Another brief, square tap to the ass with his boot, and then he grabbed her by the hair and hauled her back. The crowd hooted and hollered. Kavinsky groped at her breasts, slapped and jiggled them. A man from the crowd reached out to touch, and Kavinsky swatted his hand away.

"Mine," he snarled with possessive authority. The man deposited two fifties on the stage. Kavinsky felt a little sick with glee.

He turned Alex around, on her knees and gave her a brief, confirming look as he opened his jeans and drew her close to his crotch. She, of course, could tell he was soft but the crowd couldn't. And they were going to get a lovely show of simulated oral, Kavinsky's hands wrapped in her hair like he intended to be cruel about it.