Savannah Storm was the dominant strip club domme, and she knew it. Her eyes were like shining emeralds, piercing through the smoke-filled room as she strutted across the stage. She wore a tight leather corset that hugged her curves, and her long legs were encased in thigh-high boots. As she danced, her hips swayed seductively, and her hair cascaded down her back, brushing agat the bare skin of her arms. The men in the audience couldn’t take their eyes off her, and she could feel their gazes like a physical touch. When she finished her routine, they cheered and threw dollar bills at her, but Savannah Storm was already planning her next move.
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