Soo I was causally looking at some of your past stuff and stumbled upon the stripper!verse, and uh, the mood for the night is stripper!Michael putting on a show drenched in "holy water" in a "priest" outfit, like that scene in Flashdance, because priest kink, blasphemy, Michael being Michael, all of it, that's the mood. you got me fucked up with these concepts Eva 😤 -🌶
STRIPPER!MICHAEL PLUS RELIGION KINK!
OMG I FEEL LIKE IT’S BEEN MONTHS SINCE SOMEONE BROUGHT UP THE STRIPPER!VERSE!
LITERALLY.. I LOVE STRIPPER MICHAEL SO MUCH. MY PRIDE AND JOY.
Also. This ask inspired me to bring Xavier into the stripper!verse but that’s still a WIP!
God, he’d eat it up. Every pair of eyes trained on him; watching his every move. He flashed them a knowing smirk as he began to undo the buttons of his black button up shirt. He only undid a couple of buttons - giving them just a peek of his toned chest. His clerical collar hanging loosely from his neck.
The music began playing as he toyed with his buttons. Pink and purple lights reflected back on his long blonde hair. Michael had yet to look up to the audience, his head hanging low until he undid the buttons to his breastbone.
That was when the seductive music paused as his head snapped up; blue eyes piercing into the audience. The man wasn’t even undressed and the crowd was bumping against each other to tips him.
This was a routine Michael loved. It had taken him a few years (and a great dancing instructor) for him to really feel comfortable on the stage. He still remembers his first night on the glassy surface, blushed cheeks and swinging hips.
He was far from a dancer at this point. Truly a performer.
Michael chuckled to himself, just the hint of a smile spreading across his face as he brought his index finger to his lips to hush the crowd for a moment. With that same hand he blessed them by doing the sign of the cross before the lights went dark.
The music restarted along with flashing strobing lights, making the audience cheer loudly for Michael. Taking advantage of the split moment of darkness, he was handed one of his props from another stripper.
In his hand was a clear bottle with an upside down cross with a label that read unholy water.
Michael ripped open the reminding buttons of his shirt, his toned tummy now on display.
Dropping to his knees on the end of the stage, he bucked his hips into the air, as clients slipped bills into the waistband of his pants. He popped off the cap to the water and drenched himself in it. His blonde curls turned a shade darker as they became wet. He used his large hands to rub the liquid all over his torso. He had a look of ecstasy that the crowd went crazy for as he dipped his head back, lips hanging open as he rubbed himself.
Long, skilled fingers found the buttons on his pants as he stood up. His tall frame hovering above his admirers. His worshippers.
He turned around giving them his back as he tore apart his pants - having his perky ass in a black thong face them. Michael looked back at them over his shoulder, smoldering blue eyes catching the red dancing lights.
He grabbed onto the pole, moving languidly along to the tempo of the music, rubbing himself on the cold metal.
Touring the stage was next. He power walked along his devoted fans. Michael fed off of the energy they gave off. Their neediness filled his ego (and their money fill his wallet.)
The only garments remaining were his barely there underwear and priest collar, secured around his neck.
Wanting to draw more attention to the theme of his “outfit,” his hands ran down his neck, mocking a choking position before they trailed down his torso, until he cupped his own bulge.
His cock was tightly outlined in the sparkly black thong. Michael was big - he knew this. Everyone in that room knew this. There was little left to the imagination with his costume choices.
Dropping on the ground as the last chorus of the song started playing, Michael supported his weight on his forearms as he humped down on the floor mimicking the way he would grind down on someone.
He knew the people in the strip club would go home and dream about the fantasy that he sold.
The beautiful priest sinning and pinning them down. The image of Michael fucking the air would be something they would replay over and over in their dreams.
As the song ended, Michael returned to a kneeling position, hands pressed together in a praying position as he brought them back up to his chest, bowing his head down as if he were in deep in prayer.
