“Yes, ma'am.”
“I might let you off with a spanking if you do a good job.” She sipped her champagne. This was getting to be fun.
“At what, ma'am?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Chloe stood and slid her slender skirt down. She was not wearing stockings, merely a tiny wisp of lacy panties. She pulled them down as well, then sat on the edge of the sofa, knees spread. She crooked her finger for him to approach. “Crawl over here and see what you can do with my pussy,” she said. “Then we'll decide on your punishment for being bad.”
“Oh, yes, ma'am,” he said, scuttling across the brown tweed carpet on his hands and knees. Somehow it was even more exciting for Chloe since he was still wearing a three-piece suit, white shirt and tie. As he approached, she grabbed the back of his head and pressed his face into her crotch.
He had a wonderfully talented mouth. He alternately flicked her engorged clit and stuck his pointed tongue into her canal, exploring every fold, licking and delving. After a few moments, he pressed his lips around her clit and sucked, rubbing the tip with the flat of his tongue. “Shit,” she said as she came in a rush, straining against his face. “Shit.” He didn't stop pleasuring her pussy until she pushed his face away, totally replete.
“You did that very well,” Chloe said, having trouble breathing. “Therefore, you will only need five swats.” When he looked disappointed, she said, “I mean ten.”
“I couldn't take ten, ma'am.”
“I don't really care,” she said, standing and heading for the bathroom. “Remove your pants and briefs and wait for me.” In the bathroom she cleaned up, then returned to the living-room area where Rick waited. He still wore his vest, shirt and tie, and his shoes and socks. His pants were discarded on the floor, his erection hard and thrusting straight out from his groin.
Chloe sat on the edge of the sofa and patted her bare thighs. Panting, trembling, he stumbled, then stretched out across her lap. “P-p-please don't hurt me.”
“It's necessary.” To prolong the excitement, she caressed his pale ass cheeks, making large circles with the tips of her fingers. “I'll try not to hurt you too much,” she crooned. Suddenly, she raised her hand and brought it down across Rick's buttocks.
“That's one,” he said. “Two,” he continued as Chloe's hand landed again. “Three, four,” he said. Then his entire body shuddered and she felt his hard cock twitch against her thigh and semen dribbled down between her legs. “Oh, God,” he said.
Â
Chloe took a deep breath. “He was scheduled to return to the West Coast the following day, but he calls me occasionally to make sure I'll be around if he ever returns to New York.”
“I never considered all that stuff until I talked to Erika. Now I find out that you're a practicing sadist.”
“No, I'm not really. I just get so high out of giving pleasure and he certainly enjoyed it.”
“It's going to take a while for me to get used to all this.”
There's so much,
she thought.
So much.
“Eventually, we can look over the basement and see what we have to do?”
“Sure. This is really strange. I haven't actually done anything yet, with a guy for pay, I mean, and here I am planning a business, complete with bondage room. It's sure happening fast.
“One more thing. In my talk with Erika, she mentioned that you'd been talking it up and word about Club Fantasy had been getting around. You've got to get serious about this. What we're considering doing is illegal as hell and really dangerous.”
“How dangerous?” Chloe said, her eyes widening. “It's just folks Frank knows.”
“And folks those folks know and on and on. Chloe, there are lots of guys out there who get their jollies out of hurting women or taking things we aren't willing to give. We've been talking about bondage. What if you let someone you didn't know tie you up, then he got nasty?”
Chloe's face quickly registered her shock. “I never thought about that. I'm really sorry. You're right.”
It was important to Jenna to make sure Chloe was careful, yet not to scare the daylights out of her. “Chloe, it's okay. Just keep your mouth shut. Enough folks know about this for the moment. We'll have to have some rules about who does what to whom. Remember that this is our house and the guys will know that it's a brothel of sorts. We don't want anyone hanging around outside thinking they can get stuff for nothing.”
Chloe looked concerned. “Will we have to move?”
“Certainly not yet. We'll play it by ear for the moment but one wrong vibe and I, for one, will be out of here.”
“I guess that's fair. God, I never thought of all that.”
Jenna knew her friend well enough to know that Chloe seldom thought about anything too deeply, but she was Jenna's best friend so she reached out and wrapped her arms around the tiny woman. “I know. Let's just pretend that it's all right for now. Maybe it's playing ostrich but it's either that or not doing it at all.”
“You're right, of course.”
“You said there's a guy who wants to play out a fantasy with me. Like what, exactly?”
“Actually, it's pretty simple. He wants to watch.”
“Watch what?” Jenna asked.
“You know those films where women masturbate? He wants a live show and he's willing to pay a thousand bucks for it, and for the ability to fuck you after he's seen enough.”
“Oh,” Jenna said, considering how she'd feel playing with herself while some slobbering guy sat there and stared at her. “I'm not sure I'd know what to do.”
“Back to the video-rental store,” Chloe said, regaining her composure.
“When does he want to do it?”
“He wants to do it yesterday but he's willing to abide by your schedule. Maybe one evening next week.”
Jenna felt like she was standing on a diving board about to jump into the deep end. It was terrifying. Now she wasn't worried about letting some guy make love to her, but rather about making sure the man got his money's worth. A thousand dollars was a lot to spend so she'd have to give him lots in return. Well, if he wasn't satisfied he could have his money back. “You said he wants to fuck me when he's seen enough. He might want to stay all night and that's not an option. Like we did with the guy who played doctor, we have to agree on a time limit. There have to be rules to protect both parties. We need to list some of the dos and don'ts.” She thought about Marcy and her lists.
“Like what?”
“It can't be open-endedâlike, until he's satisfied. So, let's say he gets two hours like Collin did. And, for anyone, if he isn't satisfied he can get his money back.”
“I won't give the money back if he's fucked me. I mean, what's to prevent someone from getting it all, then wanting a refund?”
“Good point. Okay, up to but not including orgasm, they can ask for their money back.”
Jenna watched the wheels turning. Between the two of them they should be able to make this work. “That makes sense,” Chloe said thoughtfully.
“Who pays expenses?”
“Expenses?” Chloe asked.
“We can do lots of stuff with what's in the attic and some easy additional things, but what if someone wants us to rent costumes, for example.”
“You're right. We'll have to discuss that with a client beforehand. I'm the one who took all those psych courses in college and you seem to know people instinctively,” Chloe said. “Finding out exactly what the client wants and what he needs to pay to make his fantasy real shouldn't be too difficult.”
“It seems we've started something here. Club Fantasy might just become a reality.”
Chapter
8
J
enna wasn't as confident about her own ability to satisfy the fantasy desires of a client as she wanted to be. Inside she was a wreck during the days before the big event, arranged for the following Tuesday evening. She rented numerous videos and found masturbation stories on the Web. She'd been masturbating since she was in her midteens, but this was very different. This wasn't a quick satisfaction for her. Rather, it was a show she would put on for a man. It was scary as hell.
Jenna found a small erotic boutique in the East Village and bought a split crotch, black teddy trimmed with ivory lace and a matching negligee and several new dildos and vibrators she could play with. When it came right down to it this was just a matter of doing what felt right and gauging the guy's reactions, right?
As planned, Chloe met the man at the door, collected his money, explained the rules, then guided him up to the “motel room.” The ambiance had been completely altered with the simple addition of a few green plants, an urn filled with dried wheat, softer pictures on the walls, and a satin coverlet with a few matching pillows on the bed.
“This is Juan,” Chloe said as the man entered the room. It was all Jenna could do not to grin as Chloe surreptitiously waved a check behind Juan's back. “And this is Hillary. Would you care for a drink?”
The man shook his head as Chloe left, seemingly unable to take his eyes off of Jenna's body. Juan was about forty, a swarthy, olive-skinned Hispanic with a thick neck and wide shoulders. He wore his hair long, hanging to his shoulders, and had his facial hair trimmed into a neat moustache and goatee that surrounded his wide-lipped, sensual mouth. He was dressed in a simple light blue polo shirt and khaki slacks.
As he stared, his blunt-fingered hands clenched and unclenched. Jenna had to admit that she looked stunning in her teddy and peignoir, black stockings attached to the teddy's long garters, and black sling-backed pumps with four-inch heels. She'd played down her makeup, not wanting to look like an overblown hooker, but rather a model ready for a photo shoot. “I'm glad you came to watch my rehearsal,” she said, slipping into character. “I'm going to be doing this for a movie tomorrow and I thought you'd like to see me rehearse.”
“Movie?”
“I'm going to be filming one of those erotic videos tomorrow. When I'm facing a camera I can't judge how men might be receiving my performance so I thought I could use you as my test case. Is that okay?”
“Test case?”
Jenna wanted to smile. He was almost speechless, looking her over, knowing what was to come. “If that's okay? I have all sorts of toys here that I could play with and you could watch and let me know what you like.”
“Sure,” he said as she motioned him to a spot on the end of the bed.
Her heart pounding with a combination of excitement and terror, Jenna slowly removed her negligee and draped it over the dresser. She opened a drawer and pulled out three dildos of varying lengths and thicknesses, two vibrators, and several kinds of massage oil, placing them on a side table within easy reach. “I can't thank you enough for helping me. For example, I'm never sure,” she said, her voice soft and breathy, “whether I should leave my shoes on or take them off. What do you think?”
“Leave them on,” Juan growled.
“Of course.” She stretched out on the bed. “Want to see my tits?”
When Juan nodded enthusiastically, she pulled down the straps of the teddy, baring her ample breasts. “I love touching my tits,” she said. “My nipples are so sensitive. When I pull on them they make my pussy really hot.” Juan's eyes never left her hands as she twisted one nipple in each hand. She took a bottle of oil from the table, dribbled some on each breast, then slowly rubbed the shiny fluid all over her flesh. She was never much for breast play but, watching Juan's eyes, she realized that he was delighted with what he saw. His rapt expression told her that she was doing everything he wanted. As Erika had said, his satisfaction was her goal.
“My pussy gets so hungry when I do this. Would you mind if I touched it?” She took his silence for acquiescence, so she slid one hand down her belly and buried her middle finger in her crotch.
“I want to see,” Juan growled, so she obligingly spread her legs. He watched for a few moments, then said, “Got a scissors? I want to see more.”
What does he want?
she wondered. He'd paid for the evening and she wasn't worried about her safety. She thought for a moment, then remembered that there was a pair of scissors in the top dresser drawer. He quickly got them, bent over the bed, and with a quick snip, cut the crotch from her teddy. The outfit had cost a small fortune but Jenna considered it a learning experience. The split crotch hadn't let him see enough. “Next time shave your pussy, too,” Juan said.
Shave? She'd clipped the hair short but she should have thought of actually shaving. She loved the phrase “next time.” It was the best indication that he was enjoying the show. “Of course.” She'd had false nails put on and she knew that her bright red polish stood out in her deep brown pubic hair. “Which dildo should I use?” she asked, motioning to the collection on the table.
Juan picked up the largest one and handed it to her. It was probably eight inches long and several inches around. “Ooo, you picked my favorite one,” she purred. Then she held it to her lips and sensuously licked the head. “I want it to be really slippery.” She sucked on the tip, then snaked her tongue up and down the shaft. She rubbed it over her oily breasts, then down to her pussy. She pressed the tip against her opening, then, inch by inch, pushed it into her cunt. “It's soooo big, I just love the way it fills me up.” Amazingly enough, “in the midst” of all the phony words and actions she found she was getting genuinely turned on. She watched Juan's eyes, moving as her hands moved. For long minutes she continued to stroke herself, seeing her pleasure reflected in Juan's eyes.
Finally she reached over and picked up a vibrator, turned it on and stroked her clit with it. “I'm afraid I'm going to make myself come,” she said. “Would that be okay?”
“I want to see you fuck yourself until you come,” he said, “then I'm going to fuck those luscious tits of yours.”
Fuck my tits? Okay,
she thought.
Whatever he wants. After all, he's paying for it.
She rubbed all the right places until she felt her orgasm build. “Hold this,” she said, gesturing to the dildo, disappearing and reappearing between her inner lips. Eagerly, Juan grabbed the dildo and rammed it in and out, while Jenna played with her clit. “Oh God,” she hissed as her orgasm overtook her. He pulled the dildo out and watched her juices drip from the large phallus.
With almost lightning speed, he pulled off his clothes and straddled Jenna's chest, his large erection resting in the valley between her breasts. “Hold them,” he roared, pressing her hands against the sides of her globes so that they surrounded his cock. Still slippery from the oil, the cleft was smooth and slick so his engorged cock slid through easily. She raised her head and flicked her tongue over his cockhead as it emerged at the depth of his stroke.
As she watched, he shuddered, screamed, semen splattering her chin and chest. Panting, Juan climbed off the bed and collapsed on a side chair. For several minutes the only sound in the room was their hoarse breathing. When they had finally calmed, Juan dressed. He opened his wallet and pulled out a handful of bills. “For the black thing I cut up,” he said, “and for the best show I've ever seen.” He opened the door and, as he was leaving, he added, “I'll be back.”
As the door closed behind him, Jenna chuckled. She'd done this sort of thing twice and she still hadn't been fucked. Amazing.
Â
Jenna had to admit that she was a prostitute. She'd rented her body, although to date not her vagina, to eager men. She'd done it. For the next several nights it was Chloe who entertained in the motel room, and they both watched the bank account they'd set up for Club Fantasy begin to grow.
Erika was a godsend. She met with Jenna twice more at the Courtesans, Inc., office and showed her the basics of the computer system. “Why are you shutting the business down?” Jenna asked one afternoon. “Isn't there someone to pass it off too?”
“My long-time business partner and best friend, a wonderful woman named Barbara, just got married to a doctor she met when I was in the hospital a few years ago. She's âgone straight' and is happy as a clam, however happy that is.”
“That's wonderful.” Happily ever after. Two women who'd been the classiest of high-priced hookers had moved on to happily-ever-after lives. Three if you counted the woman named Valerie whom Jenna had never met.
“Are you having second thoughts?” Erika asked, when Jenna was silent for a long time.
“No, of course not.” She fiddled with the computer keyboard. “Maybe just a little. To take money occasionally is one thing, but to run Club Fantasy as a business is another.”
“This business isn't for everyone. It isn't for most people. You need a strong self-image that won't be tarnished by what some folks think and a good head for business. Do you think you're ready for me to give people your phone number when I don't have anything to satisfy their needs?”
One last slight hesitation, then she said, “I'm as ready as I'll ever be.”
“Good, because if I send someone to you, I have to know you won't let him down. It's my reputation too.” She squeezed Jenna's hand. “I, for one, think you'll be great. Do you have a special phone for your business?”
“We're going to get a separate cell phone for the Club this week,” she said. “It'll be pretty much untraceable. I'll give you the number as soon as I get it.”
“How about an easy introduction?” Erika said, a slow smile spreading over her lightly glossed lips. “I have a client, he's such a wonderful man. He wants something a little out of my line. Shall I have him call you?”
Without hesitation, Jenna said, “Do it.”
Now sitting in the backyard, she was a bit nervous. She wondered what “out of my line” meant. Well, she could always turn someone down if his desires were too bizarre. When the cell phone rang she anxiously picked it up.
A soft voice with a slight British accent said, “Is this Club Fantasy?”
“Yes,” she said. “Can I help you?”
“My name is Howard Klein and Erika Holland suggested I could call.” Holland, Erika's business persona.
“I'm Hillary Oakes. What can I do for you?”
“I want a fantasy and Erika said you do that sort of thing.” He cleared his throat. “This is a bit embarrassing for me.”
“I can certainly understand. Why don't we meet somewhere for coffee? We can talk better in person I think.”
There was a long pause. “I guess if you are going to trust me, I have to trust you. How about meeting at Anna's Diner?” He gave Jenna the address. “This afternoon at two?”
“Great. I'll see you there.”
Jenna was already sitting at a small table by a window that looked out on to a damp, cold, October afternoon, when a man of about fifty walked in furling his umbrella. He was about five feet six, almost painfully thin, with curling, nut-brown hair and a dimple in his chin. She waved and he made his way through the maze of mostly empty tables. “Ms. Oakes?” His voice was slightly high pitched, yet breathy.
Jenna smiled at the use of her cover name. “Yes. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Klein,” she said as he slid into the chair opposite her. Through the windows they could see Eighty-third Street and a few pedestrians hustling toward their destinations, pushing groaning umbrellas in front of them. “Terrible day,” Jenna said, trying to appear as if she met men to discuss sex every day.
“I know,” he said. “It seems we're going to have autumn, whether we like it or not.” He signaled the waitress. “I need some coffee,” he said. “You?”
“Make it two,” Jenna said. She pushed the sleeves of her royal blue sweater up to her elbows and clasped her hands on the table. “What can we do for you, Mr. Klein?”
“Call me Howard,” he said, clearing his throat. “This is a bit awkward.”
Jenna called upon every bit of her charm. “I can understand that, Howard. It's a highly embarrassing topic, but I need to know what you have in mind.” She tried to sound experienced, knowing and trustworthy.
“You see my wife's been ill for almost a year. I'm a very, oh, let's just say, active man. I'm also very private and I can't satisfy my needs easily, that's why I frequented Courtesans, Inc. If word ever got out ...”
“No need for you to worry. Like Courtesans, Inc., everything we do at Club Fantasy will be strictly confidential. Exactly what did you have in mind?”
“Ms. Oakes, I'm a small man, with lot of money and a business that practically runs itself, both left to me by my father. I wantâ” He slammed his mouth shut as the waitress approached, placed a mug of coffee in front of each of them, then disappeared into the back of the restaurant. The two were silent as they poured milk and sugar into their cups. “Ms. Oakes, I want to become a powerful man, if only in my fantasies. I want to rescue the lady in distress and have her generously bestow her favors on me. I know that sounds corny and my language comes right out of a cheap novel, but that's what I've dreamed of for as long as I can remember.”