Fifty Shades of Niamh (Patreon)

So - I've written this for a freind, but I wanted to share it here too. Story followes a cute lesbian couple.

As the music stops, Niamh lowers her head onto the mic as she finishes her last song for the night. Sweat beading down her back and face, she glances at the audience to see one single drunk guy beaming a pervy smile in her direction.

Her voice is a little horse, and she begins to wonder why she bothers. Maybe she’s not as talented as her mother suggests.

“Hey, dude…,” Niamh says into the microphone, addressing the one guy gawking at her. “Wipe the drool from your mouth, drink up, and scoot. We’ve got cleaning to do.”

“Encore…,” the man slurs back, barely able to hold up his head. “Encore!”

“Nah, dude,” Niamh stands up straight, and her feet ache like crazy. They are stuffed into heels one size too small for her. “My voice hurts. I ain’t singing another thing.”

The man slaps the small round table he sits at and glares up at Niamh on stage. “Dance then,” he commands. “I wanna see more skin. Get your tit—”

At that moment, Beth, the bartender and manager of the club, stomps over and lifts the guy by the scruff of his neck. As he stumbles to his feet, his chair falls backward and slams down on the sticky concrete floor.

“That’s quite enough from you, Jerry,” Beth says, having to use all her might to lift the overweight man. “Niamh here isn’t employed to do that, and I don’t have the license for such a show, now—unless you want to mop and clean the toilets, you best fuck off.”

Niamh watches from the stage in delight. She can’t help but giggle as Beth, with her five-foot-five frame, hassles the man to the door with all the venom of a coiled snake. As the guy stumbles through the doorway and onto the street, Niamh chuckles to herself.

“Bye, dude…!” she laughs, smiling at Beth as she locks the door behind her. “Hey, Beth,” she talks in the microphone and it echoes of the solid walls. “I’d have got them out if he was going to pay, y’know. I need the money.”

Strutting with purpose across the club floor, Beth gives Niamh a sour look.

“Whaaaat?” Niamh asks, carefully stepping off the stage to join Beth at the bar. “Why you gotta be so cranky?”

Stepping behind the bar and grabbing hold of a towel, Beth starts spraying down the bar to clean it. She stops as Niamh sits opposite her with a cheeky look on her face. “No,” Beth says before Niamh can even ask.

Niamh pouts. “Why?” she complains, lowering her head into her hands. “I’ll get my tits out for you….”

Beth frowns harder. “As lovely as I’m sure they are, Niamh,” Beth replies, pushing her elbows off the bar so she can clean. “I’d rather not see them when you aren’t trying to score a beer as a freebie.”

Tucking her long black hair behind one ear, Niamh watches Beth clean for a moment. She then leans in and rests her elbows back on the counter. “So…you do want to see them then?”

“Your tits?” Beth asks plainly, stacking beer bottles back into one of the fridges behind the bar.

Niamh leans further over the bar to see Beth’s face. “Yes.”

“Probably,” Beth answers, concentrating on the job at hand. “But right now…,” Beth looks up to Niamh’s silly smile, looking down at her. “Right now, I’d like those sexy legs of yours to go grab the mop and do the floor. I ain’t doing it for you again.”

“Ah, Beth…,” Niamh grumbles, sitting back down on her stool like a naughty child. “Why, you gotta be like that. We all know you fancy the pants off of me, so why you gotta treat me like every other employee here?”

After a few more clinks from beer bottles, Beth stands, leans on the bar, and looks Naimh dead in the eyes. Her expression remains stern, and in reaction, Niamh smirks like a naughty schoolgirl.

Beth lowers her face to look over the top of her oval glasses. “You want me to…err…want you?” she asks with a weary tone in her voice. “I tell you what, missy,” she leans toward to touch Niamh’s chin with her fingertip. “I precious little thing like you—I’d eat you alive.”

Beth’s stern expression slowly turns into a smug grin as Niamh goes quiet. But as Beth backs away to continue cleaning, Niamh’s cheeky attitude returns.

“Well, derrr…,” she says with sass. “Isn’t that the point? Surely you’d want me to eat you too!”

Beth, who’s cleaning some glasses at the bar sink, stops, lowers her head, and sighs. “What’s wrong with you tonight?”

Niamh bites her bottom lip and crosses her legs. “N-nothing..,” she’s quick to answer, almost like she’s hiding something.

Beth looks back over her shoulder at the very pretty singer sitting at her bar like a beauty queen and ponders her response for a moment. Then, with a shrug of her shoulders decides it’s not worth the hassle. “Mop,” Beth says sternly. “Now!”

“Alright!” Niamh says, reacting by getting to her feet. “But I want you to know my feet really hurt! These heels you’ve supplied are too small for me! I’m going to gremlin feet by the end of the year if it continues!”

“Take’em off then, silly girl,” Beth smiles to herself.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Niamh says, standing at the bar counter, tapping her long red nails on the wood. “Oh Niamh….,” she mocks Beth by impersonating her. “Take off your panties and sit on my—”

Beth interrupts by lifting her hand from the soapy water and flicking Niamh with the suds. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks as Niamh stops talking and gives her a death stare. “Why are you acting so strange tonight. Don’t you want to go home!?”

Niamh pouts once again and allows her hair to fall in front of her eyes. She’s silent for a moment and Beth watches her in curiosity as she continues to clean the glasses by hand. The suspense amuses her. It’s not like Niamh to have nothing to say.

“Well…,” Beth chuckles, flicking water a second time

“Stop!” Niamh moans. “I’m….”

“You’re what?”

“I’m trying to ask you something!?” Niamh groans, stamping a foot in frustration. “But you keep flicking me with that crap!”

“I thought you’d like me….flicking you.”

“Bethany!?”

“Well, ask me then!” Beth laughs. “I haven’t got all night, sweetheart!”

Niamh steps closer and clears her throat. Beth looks up from the sink to look into her pretty green eyes. “Why won’t you go out with me, Beth? You know I like you, and I know you like me. Why you gotta be like this? You’re single—I’m single. What’s the problem.”

“Wow, brash,” Beth comments, giving Niamh a sarcastic smile. “How do you know I’m even gay?”

“Be serious!” Niamh says, huffing and folding her arms. “See…this is why I can’t talk to you about these sorta things. You’re so sarcastic all the time!”

“So’s your face,”

“Bethany!”

“What!?”

“Oh, forget it,” Niamh says sourly, turning away in a sulk.

“Look,” Beth says earnestly, “Maybe you’re just not my type, Niamh. Did you think of that?”

Niamh looks around and over her shoulder. “Type?” she asks. “Don’t you like a girly girl?” Niamh then spreads her legs wider and pretends to walk like John Wayne. Her impression brings a smile to Beth’s face.

“This more like it?” Niamh says, lowering her voice to sound more gruff. She then spits down onto the floor. “Wench, get me a beer.”

Beth softly smiles to herself but continues to wash the glasses. “Maybe I do like a girly girl….” Beth eventually answers as Niamh stares a hole through the side of her head. “Maybe I don’t. Maybe I like my women more grown up and responsible.”

Niamh instantly stops pretending to be John Wayne and leans against the counter. “Responsible?” she asks, almost perplexed by the idea.

“Yes,” Beth nods without looking in her direction. “Y’know…the sorta girl that’ll…,” Beth looks at Niamh with a telling expression. “Mop the floor when I ask!”

Niamh’s face drops. “Oh, fine!” Niamh huffs.

“Ata girl,” Beth grins. “See, I’m more attracted to you already!”

“Oooo, my name is Beth,” Niamh mocks, walking around the bar to grab the mop and bucket. “I like my girls to be all stuffy, beige, and wear cardigans.”

“I do like a girl in a cardy,” Beth states, drying her hands.

“Ooo, do you?” Niamh jibes, slapping the wet and dirty mop down onto the floor in such a way that the water splashes her feet. “Maybe I’ll wear one special for you tomorrow…,” Niamh says spitefully.

“Okay,” Beth grins, standing at the cash register. “I look forward to it.” As the cash register opens, Beth can’t help but stare a Niamh as she works. She admires her long legs, accentuated by the heels she’s wearing. She then looks at her backside, and thoughts enter her mind. Thoughts that she should have about someone she employes.

“I see you looking,” Niamh shouts across the bar without looking, shocking Beth out of her daydream.

“I…I….,” Beth replies nervously, having been caught out. “I’m just tired, is all.”

“Sure….,” Niamh says playfully as she mops.

“I’ll be in back,” Beth says, lifting the cash draw out. “Thanks again for tonight, Niamh.”

Niamh stops mopping for a moment, tucks hair behind one ear, and smiles brightly in Beth’s direction. “My pleasure, sweetcheeks.”