Arriving at The Club we were admitted inside, Walter, Nellie and Mary being well known to the doorman and I was given a new temporary ID to wear until security got to know me. Once inside the real fun began.
I will say very little about The Club itself except that it was a well known spot for "ladies that lunch" and bored River Oaks housewives that played tennis or racquetball during the day, but at night it was restricted for Private members only. Even the Mayor (not a member) couldn't gain entry inside after hours. The furniture was all either priceless antiques or the most comfortable modern style club furniture that money could buy. A single chandelier or sconce would have probably paid my full tuition all the way through my Doctorate.
There were several large "public rooms" near the main front doors where dining or lectures could be held and the "private" restricted areas were to the back, the main part of which was laid out much like a Victorian old boys network London Club with big oversized leather chairs and small tables with reading lights, but usually not much "reading" occurred. The dress code was 'clothing optional'.
At one end was a long bar made of crafted antique oak and at the other end was a small DJ area with a dance floor. A number of more exclusive private rooms were along the center, each catering to different sexual specialties. Only a "Marked Member" was allowed to get unrestricted entrance into any of those rooms, but a 'MM' could bring an "escorted guest".
I was theoretically still a "Guest", but actually for purposes of mobility I could go anywhere and see anything, but in the private areas I was to definitely ask before entering, at least for tonight.
The "MM" business confused me until I saw several scantily clad ladies, young and not so young, scampering off into the Pink Room (Lesbian sex only, watchers tolerated).
They all had what appeared to be a tattooed mark at the bottom of their lower back, just above the ass crack, and most women also had additional designs to both sides as a larger and more exotic "tramp stamp" decoration.
This 'mark' was technically a tattoo, but it involved a complicated high-tech machine that injected a clear ink under the skin and then used different lasers for the design and coloring. This allowed an exceptional range of tattoo coloring, clarity and precise design details, far more so than traditional needle tattooing. The mark on the lower back was traditional, but some of the women placed theirs directly on their bare pubic mounds. Several others, in a Gorian style, had the mark on their upper thigh or ass cheek, as if it were a brand. A few more mature women had the older original hot iron brand marking of The Club burned into their flesh. There were more than few rather submissive women with additional branding marks, usually the initials of their Master, and this seemed to be a popular fetish here.
I won't even mention the cross-dressers, transgendered and several chicks that had dicks. It was obvious that this was a place where 'anything goes'.
Some men had a more masculine variation of this tattoo as well, but mostly male members simply wore their membership ring which was considered ample for admission anywhere they pleased. The membership ring, or the tattooed back stamp for the women, also allowed them admission, rights and privileges to other similar and affiliated clubs around the world.
Still dragging Mary back and forth while she toted my heavy bag of bricks, I was shown my new work area in the back and it would do well. It was an older laundry room that had been replaced a few years back so it had plumbing and floor drains. It also had a good storage area, was very well lit and had room for all of the equipment that I would later need.
I was told that members and their guests would start arriving about eight, but most of the 'fun' would be much later, but I was expected to be "on duty" between eight p.m. and 2 a.m., unless dismissed by the Club Manager early. The fun sometimes lasted longer, but usually by then the more enthusiastic players will have moved onwards for more private parties.
He would be my nominal boss, but I should feel free to ask Walt if I had any questions or problems. From the deference shown to him by everyone, I could tell that Walt was indeed a very senior member. My job was to remain in the background but be immediately available if anyone wished a photo taken. I was not to otherwise photograph members or guests without their express granted permission. I also found out that I would soon be responsible also for storing The Clubs security camera footage and would be often required to obtain still photos from the film.
I had about twenty minutes to get ready and I used them to run Mary ragged back and forth from the car to the new lab room, loading her down with equipment - most of which I would not need that night. Finally, a few minutes before 8 p.m, I considered myself ready, and now it was time to get Mary ready as well.
"Strip" I ordered her, and she just stood there looking at me. About what I had expected.
"When I tell you to do something, you will
do
it, immediately and at once, do you understand me?" I told her in my sternest voice and with what I hoped was my biggest frown of annoyance. She nodded her head and started to undress, too slowly for my taste.
"Faster, Hurry!" I barked, and her clothes began to fly off onto the floor. When she was done standing naked in front of me I took a walk around her as if to inspect her, and I found much that I disapproved of.
If anything, she was much thinner than even her previous photos suggested. The way her ribs stuck out was frightening. The only comparable images I had seen even close to this were pictures of WW-II death camp survivors.
She had been quite busy cutting herself as well and there was a row of Band-Aids running down the inner sides of each thigh. I ripped each one off in turn, and told her when I ordered her to be naked she was to be completely naked with nothing on her but her skin.
