Random Scripts and Stories

NSFW: Jezebel: Part Time Job

Checking her emails, Jezebel came across one from a club owner asking for her help. She read the main parts out to John.

"Dear Miss Connelly, I have heard many great things about you and your partner, John Constantine, within the occult/ supernatural community. So I hope you can help me with a problem that I have. You see a lot of my dancers have gone missing and the ones that do reappear have appeared with blood drained almost completely from their bodies. Another ongoing issue I noticed was they all left with the same group of men: very pale, young looking, a bit of aging to the eyes. I would like to employ you and your partner to sort this problem out for fear of my club running out of business from the huge loss of employees. Thank you. Frank Way - Owner of the Chemical Club."

John came up behind her, folding his arms as he leaned on the back of the couch to get a better view of the email Jezebel was showing him, "Wow, he sounds a bit hoity toity, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, but he says he'll pay us a huge" She scrolled to a certain part in the email at the bottom, showing him; in a sing-song type voice, "amo-u-nt."

He grinned at her, "I like the sound of that."

"So do I, dear; so do I." Jezebel grinned back at him.

Jezebel got John to do a bit of research on the club, while she got their equipment ready. Later, they went to the club with intentions of talking with the club owner. They saw the club had been closed for a few hours for break purposes. The owner obliged to a talk with them, and he eagerly took them to his office. He closed the blinds for a bit more privacy.

"Thank goodness you're here! I was beginning to worry you wasn't coming." Frank - the club owner - sat at his desk.

"You know who we are?" John raised his eyebrows - rather surprised.

"John Constantine." Frank took hold and shook John's hand; he looked to Jezebel, taking hold of her hand, shaking it before kissing the top, causing John to push him off her when he took too long to part from her, "And Jezebel Connelly, correct?"

Jezebel awkwardly took her hand away from him, "That's correct."

"So, have there been any survivors from these attacks?" John noticed the owner looked hungrily at her with lust; he cleared his throat.

"Only one... She says she won't perform though in case the pricks get her again... Her boyfriend also won't serve at the bar because he'd rather protect just her. So, I'm down a bartender and a dancer." Reluctantly tore his eyes away from Jezebel to look at John; he went into thought, "Hmm - don't suppose you two are good at undercover work, are you?"

John and Jezebel looked questionably between each other, a little anxious to what he was suggesting. They nodded anyway.

"Good!" Frank exclaimed, turning to opening a drawer in his desk to pull out some papers, "You'll need to sign these. You're going to be my new bartender and exoctic dancer."

His eyes flicked between John and Jezebel, lingering on her.

Jezebel replied, shocked, "Exoctic dancer?!"

Frank raised an eyebrow, "What kind of dancers did you think I had at this type of club?"

"Forgot to mention it was a strip club, luv." John leaned into Jezebel, as Frank turned away to retrieve something; he whispered, smirking at the rising blush on Jezebel's cheeks.

"Ya think." Jezebel looked at him with an almost glare; she saw he chuckled and playfully punched him in the arm.

"How soon can you start?" Frank looked back at them.