Amanda reached down and readjusted her fishnet stockings for the third time. They were cheap, and the lace at the top was scratchy. She fought back a sigh and tried to focus on looking pretty and vacant as her eyes scanned the room.
The club was dark, all the lights fitted with red and purple filters, and the air was thick with smoke. The dance music playing over the speakers was so loud she could feel the bass vibrating in her chest, and the press of bodies made the air feel hot and moist. The air felt thick and smelled like sex and weed and sugary body spray. Every step she took, her ridiculous heels pulled against her feet, the floor was so sticky with spilled drinks.
“You good?” Fin asked, leaning in close to whisper in her ear, making a show of moving a lock of overly hairsprayed blonde hair out of the way. She wasn’t sure how he wasn’t sweating, just looking at his leather jacket was making her hot, and calling what she was wearing a dress was being generous.
“Yeah,” She answered, eyes still scanning the dancefloor. “Just looking for our guy.”
“Benson and Stabler said this is his regular hang out, but so far it looks like a normal club.” Fin waded into the crowd, heading towards the bar. “I don’t think he coulda gotten away with raping and murdering a woman in here without no one seeing him.”
“You thinking there’s a back room?” Amanda clung to Fin’s arm, half for the stability he gave her wobbly legs, and half for the way the crowd seemed to part around him.
“I’m gonna find out.” Fin slid up to the bar and leaned forward, getting the attention of the bartender. She was older than most of the club goers, and more heavily tattooed than most of the clientele.
“What you want?” She eyed the pair of them, eyes lingering on the white knuckle grip Rollins had on Fin’s sleeve.
“Well, I came here looking for a real party, but I can settle for a Jack and Coke right now.” Fin reached into his coat and pulled out a wallet stuffed with cash, a condom in a bright wrapped haphazardly tucked between the bills. “And a vodka tonic for my girl.”
Rollins pet the lapel of Fin’s jacket, letting her fingers brush over the buttons of his shirt. “Thanks Daddy,” she whispered, voice high and breathy to cover any trace of accent.
The bartender took the twenty Fin handed her and smiled. “Coming right up.”
Fin grinned. “Keep the change.”
The bartender started mixing the drinks, glancing to her side to see what the other bartender was doing at the opposite end of the bar. “You know, if you’re looking for something more...intense, you aren’t gonna find it here.”
Fin picked up the glass she placed on the counter and took a sip. “Oh, and you know where we might find it?”
The woman looked from side to side and then leaned across the bar. “Yeah, okay, what you wanna do is go out the back, the door labeled fire exit. You’ll be in this alley, and there’s stairs leading down to the basement level. Knock on the door three times, fifty bucks to get in.”
Fin nodded and grabbed Rollins by the waist. “Well then I know where I’m headed now. Thanks for the tip.”
“No, thank you.” The bartender picked up Amanada’s untouched drink and salutes Fin with it as her walks away.
“Okay, heading outside, moving to basement level of the building now,” Fin ducked his head and whispered to the comm radio hidden inside his coat. “We got a tip that’s where the real party’s at.”
Amanda let herself be towed across the club, making a show of wobbling a bit to show how “drunk” she was. It got a little old sometimes, playing the same part. The blonde bimbo, the girlfriend, the wife. At least at SVU the cases felt like they mattered. Dressing up like a fake hooker to work vice was depressing, in SVU it felt like she was doing something real.
Working with Fin was good too. They had a good rapport, with him it was easy to fall into the role. Plus, with him there she felt safe, she knew he wouldn’t let her get into any real trouble.
They made it outside the club and she took a moment to suck in a few lungfuls of cold air, not even minding the faint smell of pee and stale beer. She hated the feeling of being covered in other people sweat. When she got home she was planning on taking the worlds longest bath.
“Ready to head down there?” Fin raised an eyebrow and gestured to the stairs leading down to a metal door. There was a single flickering bulb above the door, and outside the club, the night seemed almost eerily quiet.
“Yeah, just takin’ a moment to enjoy the quiet.” Rollins shrugged.
“Yeah, not much of that where we’re going.” Fin took a step down the stairs and held out and arm for Amanda to hold onto. “You remember the code word if you want out right? Cause things might get a little real down there.”
Rollins frowned. “Yeah, stoplight. Yellow means hold up, red means I want out,” she huffed. “I’m not really some innocent farm girl Fin, I just sound like one.”
“Okay, okay!” Fin held a hand up in surrender. “Last time I worry.”
They descended the stairs and Fin knocked on the door, three times in rapid succession. They stood there outside the door for almost a full minute before it pulled open a few inches, a chain bridging the gap between the door and the wall. An eye under a bushy brow peeked at them through the gap.
“What do you want?”
“We’re here for a good time.” Fin flashes his wallet. “Heard the going rate is fifty to get in, that right?”
There was a brief moment of hesitation as the eye looked the two of them over. “Fifty each. Cash only.”
Fin nodded and fished the bills out of his wallet and slipped them through the door. As soon as the money was gone the door slammed, and it took a full thirty seconds for the person on the other side to undo all of the locks and open the door again. When the door did swing open it revealed a huge man, well over six feet tall, with a massive beard and a leather vest over a bare chest.
“Come in. The party is down the hall. You leave, you pay again to get in.” He waved them by.
Fin took Amanda’s arm and walked them down the hall, the sound of industrial rock growing louder as they moved. Halfway down the hall, they spotted a doorway, with beads strung across the opening in lieu of a real door. Through that, they could see they had finally found what they were looking for.
The basement club was like a mirror universe of the one above. A nearly identical layout and just as many sweaty bodies, but where upstairs it had been college kids, bridge and tunnel crowds, and tourists looking for some mild fun, below it was different. First the crowd was a bit older, Rollins even saw a silver head of hair here and there. The clothes were different too. Less club dresses and polo shirts, more leather and lace.
Here and there was a girl or boy, wearing nothing but body paint, dancing on a table or in an oldschool gogo cage. Rollins eyed them carefully, trying to guess if they were jailbait or just pretty young things shaved smooth for added effect. But aside from that there wasn’t much dancing going on. Instead, it looked like a scene from Dante’s Inferno. Writhing naked bodies in piles. Women walking men on leashes attached to their testicals, women tied to wodden crosses and covered with slowly melting candles.
This was the place where the murders had happened, Amanda was sure of it.
“Well hello, you two look new.” A tall person of unidentifiable gender sashayed up to them on six inch heels. Their body was wrapped in shiny black leather, and they were holding a riding crop in one hand, tapping it against black painted lips. “I think I would have noticed you before. Such a nice...contrast.” They let their eyes linger on the place where Fin’s hand wrapped around Amanda’s wrist, his skin looking even darker against her paleness.
“We usually play at home.” Fin pulled Amanad in roughly, almost toppling her over until she fell against his chest. “Wanted a change of scenery.”
The person leered down at them, the strobe lights reflecting off their shaved head. “Ah, let me guess, looking for an audience hmm?”
“Audience?” Amanda hazarded, trying to get her bearings. “You mean like voyeurs?”
“I mean the rules honey, didn’t you know?” the person leaned down and whispered in Amanada’s ear conspiratorially. “You either play, or you leave. No Looky Lous allowed.”
“That’s not a problem.” Fin made a show of grabbing a handful of Amanda's ass and squeezing. “She likes it, even if it’s just cause I say so.”
Amanda let out an involuntary gasp at the sensation. Fin had big hands, and the thong and nearly see through lace dress she had on left him touching her bare skin, and she was shocked by the warmth of his touch. She just hoped the tinted lights the blush she knew was spreading over her face.
“But first, I need a drink.”
Amanda let out a small sigh of relief and looked towards the bar. There was a woman laying on top of the counter, and people were lined up doing shots and licking salt and lime off of her naked torso. She made a half step towards the bar before her view was blocked by a massive chest wrapped in an expensive suit.
“Well well, what have we here?” The man was well over six feet tall, with sallow skin stretched tight over his face and thinning black hair. She recognized him immediately. He was the muscle their man had hired to keep him out of trouble. And possibly one of the men who had raped one of the many victims who had been to the club. He might have even been the one dumping the bodies after his boss was done having fun with them.
“Newbies, feeling a little stage fright it seems,” The bald person replied, grinning wolfishly. “I was trying to get myself a front row seat for a good show, but it seems they don’t wanna play right now.”
“The it sounds like they were just leaving.” The man made a move to grab Amanda.
Fin yanked her back quickly, pulling her tight against his chest. “Hey! I ain’t said no one could touch my lady but me. Now if a show is what you wanna see, I can do that.” He didn’t even hesitate before flipping Amanda around so her back was against his chest. “Show ‘em how good you can be baby.”
Amanda opened her mouth up instinctively to yell, but managed to bite her lip and hold it back just in time. At the same moment, Fin grabbed a hold of the hem of her “dress” and pulled it up over her hips, leaving her pink thong on display. She flushed to almost the same color, knowing what they were seeing. Pale skin, even paler where her bikini lines remained from the Summer days out at the beach and tanning on her building’s roof. She had gotten waxed earlier that week and suddenly wished she hadn’t that there was just a bit more to hide behind.
Fin slid his knee between her legs and pushed them apart, moving a hand to cup her through her panties, the heel of his hand pressing against her clit. “Look, I can play this girl like a piano.” he grabbed a handfull of her hair and puller her head back, forcing her to arch her back and push her chest forward.
“D-don’t-” She she whimpered, wiggling a bit in his arms, and only succeeding in making her dress ride up even further.
“Don’t what, don’t stop? Okay, I won’t.” Fin bit gently at the exposed curve of her neck, moving his hand away from her panties to grope at her chest. The dress was low cut, and she had forgone a normal bra in favor of silicone stick ons. A few yanks at the neck of her dress had her breasts spilling out, leaving her virtually naked in front of the crowd. And it was a crowd, a number of people had paused in their play to gather around, drinks in hand, to see the show.
“No, don’t!” Amanda groaned, trying to pull her dress back down with the hand not clinging to Fin for balance. It took him only a moment to peel the silicone petals off her nipples, leaving them hard and visible in the warm air of the club. She could feel her panties getting wet, and could only pray it wasn’t too visible in the low lighting.
“Ooh, I think she likes it!” A lady in the crowd pointed between Amanadas legs.
The person with the shaved head cackled. ‘Ah yes, the lady doth protest too much!”
Fin pushed his hand into Amanda’s hair and pushed her forward, a hand sliding between her legs again to tease at her entrance through the fabric. “I told you, my girl is a good girl for me, even when she makes a fuss.” He moved his hand faster, pushing his fingers just insider of her, but keeping the fabric barrier between them. His other hand pulled at her niiples, first gently, and then harder and harder.
Amanda was cumming before she realised what was happening, shaking and shivering and moaning in Fin’s arms, relying on him to keep her upright. A few of the onlookers hooted and clapped. The man in the suit seemed intrigued.
“You two put on a good show, I think my boss might like seeing a bit more, maybe get a turn himself?” He leaned down and moved a sweaty lock of hair out of Amanda’s face, not even reacting when she flinched away
“You boss?” Fin hesitated for a moment.
“Yeah, Vinny Brooks. He’s in a VIP room in the back right now.”
Fin pulled Amanda upright and moved a hand to his comm radio. “Alright, let’s get him.”
It took less than a minute for the police to storm into the club, bashing down the door and flooding the room with bright lights and shouting voices. Amanda managed to straighten herself out just in time, pulling her clothes into place behind Fin while uniformed officers began corralling clubgoers.
Munch marched to the back room, Stabler and Benson in tow, to pick up Brooks, while Fin cuffed his associate. As soon as he was done reading him his rights, Fin turned to Amanda and smiled.
“Anytime Fin, anytime.” She smiled and hurried off to find a jacket.