Chapter One

Ricky

The music didn't hold my attention the way it normally did, as my head was full of… balls.

Enormous balls.

Soft balls.

Bull's balls.

Was there something wrong with me?

Dismounting the pole went somewhat awry, and I ended up attempting to do the splits. It wasn't that I couldn't do them easily, it's just that doing them wasn't part of this routine.

Was I coming down with some sort of rhubarb ailment that no one had told me about? I felt my sweaty brow and went cross-eyed, trying to see if I was more flushed than normal.

All I did was make everything look weird and give me two poles. The one I reached for disappeared and I hit air. Scowling, I considered that maybe my alpha, Crimson, who had waved me off when I'd asked about some unknown illness like I was being silly, could have been wrong. Nothing affected my ability to twirl around my pole, yet here I was, out of time to the beat of the music and unable to swing the rhubarb if my life depended upon it. All because of…

I heaved a sigh. Beautiful balls.

"What's with you this afternoon, Ricky? I could do a better job myself swingin' ‘bout that stick," Dom called from his seat at the bar counter where he, as far as I could tell, lived. The stalk was one of the biggest in town and was as graceful as a baby elephant. Thoughts of him doing better than me… well, that was just plain scary.

"Stick?" I sighed, offended for my pole and stroking a hand down the shiny metal. "This is not a stick, as well you know. This is the finest dancing pole money can buy." I should know, I'd paid for it.

Dom was the tightest rhubarb in town, even though he was the closest thing I had to family, except for Mom. He'd agreed to let me dance in the hottest club in town, ‘Rhurbarella'. Okay, it was the only club in town, but when I found a TV programme with these dancers doing all sorts of magical things with a pole, I wanted to try, and he'd eventually agreed, as long as I paid for it.

It turned out, I was pretty good at pole dancing because I was really bendy in both forms.

Just not today. Today I was more like a stalk in the mud.

"Stick… pole…" he coughed, looking at me through thick rimmed specs, "you suck."

"Thanks!"

"Just telling it how it is." He kicked at the seat next to him.

I got the hint and walked over to him, swiping my arm over my sweaty face, and plonked my skinny ass on the seat. I met his stare, wondering if it was concern I could see for me, or more likely about what me falling on my ass would do for business. "Do you need to tell me quite so bluntly?"

Dom was not known for his diplomacy, yet this was worse than normal for him.

Did I really suck that badly?

Oh Great Rhu, I sucked!

See, Crimson was wrong, something clearly wasn't right. Me and my pole never failed to make a crowd holler for more.

He patted my sweat soaked T-shirt clinging to my shoulder, then looked at his hand, his lips curling in distaste before he rubbed it on his pant leg. "Yep. You been working here, what, four years?" I nodded. "I ain't ever seen you looking like you're off the rhubarb."

I sniffed, hiccuped, and attempted to stifle a sob. "I…" I sagged. "You're right… I don't know what happened. I was fine as rhubarb until the other day… then… it's all gone to rhubarb in a handcart." I ran my shaking hands over my face, wondering how to mention my new obsession, or if I even should.

"What day?" His bushy brows merged, making him look like he'd leafed out. "Talk it through, maybe that will pinpoint when things went wrong." Dom gave me an encouraging smile. At least, it could have been a smile, but it was hard to tell when he was toothless and more gum than lips.

"It was the day that Tim went all limp and I had to carry him to Crimson, then go find his lion." When he frowned at me, I continued on. "You know, the day the lion flashed the town?"

"Yep. Yep, I heard he put on quite the show…"

I blushed, recalling exactly what kind of show he'd put on, and I had to say it was impressive. "It was. Anyway, his pride"—I rubbed at my chest—"they gave chase. Or that's what Tim said they were. And I met Burke. He's a small brown bull with big…" I coughed and tried not to focus on the size of Burke's balls, but it was hard when I got the oddest of urges…

"Why you blushin' like that?" Dom's voice penetrated past what I'd become obsessed with over the last couple of days.

Twirl around the pole, think about Burke's balls…

Dance to the beat, while executing a standing split, think about Burke's balls…

Shimmy my way up the pole, think about Burke's balls…

Ohhhh…

"I… Burke…" How was I supposed to say that I'm ball obsessed? Maybe I really was sick after all… ball sick?