The Club 37

**This story contains references to japanese rope bondage. If not done properly, japanese rope bondage can be extremely dangerous. If it's something you'd like to try, please do some research beforehand.**

The Club

I don't go to "the club" very often. Going there usually leaves me with this vaguely guilty-dirty feeling. I can never seem to pin down the reason for the feeling. I mean gees, what does anyone care what I do with my own body, or anyone else's for that matter? Consenting adults and all that. I'm pretty open about sex, and very tolerant of other people's turn-ons, no matter how kinky or weird they may be. Despite that, however, I don't seem to be especially forgiving when it comes to my own little hungers.

Well, I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about my emotional double standards. This isn't about emotion anyway. This is about hunger... and how I keep mine fed.

I've been a member of "the club" for about three years. After the first time I went, it was Toni who introduced me, I promised myself that I'd never go back. I remember that Toni laughed at me when I told him that.

"You'll go back," he said. "You won't be able to stop yourself, Sam." He was right too. After that first time, I managed to make it for six months before the urge overcame me. The next time I only held out for four months. Nowadays, it's usually about six weeks between visits. Less if I'm stressed about anything.

"The club" is a little hard to describe. It's the kind of place that you have to see for yourself. Look, I'll tell you what: If you're really interested, why don't you come with me? I'm going on Friday, and you can come as my guest. I'm warning you though, once you've been to "the club", you may not be able to stop going back. If you really want to know what it's like, meet me at Quincy and 8th at 11:15 on Friday night. Wear something that's easy to take off.

Friday, 11:10 pm - The corner of Quincy St. and 8th Ave.

The woman on the corner ignored the occasional catcalls and the whistles directed at her from the passing traffic as she glanced at her watch. Her short brown hair was cut in a kind of soft bob that curled forward, framing her perfect complexion. What little make-up she wore had been applied skilfully to accent her stunning hazel eyes and her full, slightly pouty lips. Her straight nose and gentle cheekbones gave her a delicate, refined look.

Perched atop a pair of strappy black heels, she paced back and forth. Her long shapely legs were tightly hugged by black, silky-looking stockings. The tips of the straps of her sapphire blue garter belt peeked out teasingly from under her short black leather skirt as she walked.

Her white silk blouse was knotted loosely around her slender waist. The top few buttons were open, revealing a soft, round cleavage framed by the blue lace of the bra, which could be seen through the filmy shirt.

She looked at her watch again. She would wait for five more minutes, and if Roxy still hadn't shown up, she'd go without her. She'd promised to introduce her friend to "the club" tonight, but Roxy could very well have gotten cold feet. She was about to give up on her friend, when she heard the click of heels on the sidewalk. She turned and smiled as she recognised the woman coming towards her.

Roxy was wearing a simple dress made of a soft, clinging material. The spaghetti straps led forward to a low-scooped neck, and back to an even lower-scooped back. It was obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra under the white dress, but even without it, her breasts were pert. The flared skirt swayed seductively around her bare thighs.

"I was about to give up on you, Rox. But I'm glad you decided to come. You look sexy as hell."

"Thanks, Sam. I'm really nervous though. Can't you tell me anything before we go?" As they started walking, Sam answered.

"All I can tell you is this: you'll come in as my guest, but we'll be separated once we're inside. Someone will ask you a lot of questions, a kind of interview. Some of them will be really personal and some of them will seem really strange. Take my advice, and answer as honestly as you can. After that, the fun will start! But I'm not going to tell you any more. You just have to find out for yourself. Trust me, you're going to have one hell of a night. And don't worry, we'll leave together when it's over."

The two women came to a door tucked along the side of an average-looking building. Sam stopped and looked at her friend. "Are you ready?" she asked. Roxy nodded her head. Sam smiled at her reassuringly and turned to knock at the door. As it opened slightly a hard male voice said, "Yeah?"

"Rob, it's Sam. I brought a friend."

The door opened, admitting them into a dimly lit entrance way. As the two entered, Roxy looked around. There were only two other people in the small room. The man, she guessed, must be Rob. He was wearing tight black leather pants. The muscles along his well-tanned stomach and arms rippled as he moved. Roxy blushed slightly when he winked at her, catching her staring at his naked torseau. She wondered if the leather armband around his right bicep meant anything special.

The woman looked up from the table she was standing next to. It looked something like a maitre-d stand in an expensive restaurant. She was wearing a long, elegant red dress. It flowed gently from her shoulders suspended by very fine spaghetti straps. Her hair was swept up seductively, though a few strands had fallen loose.

"Hello Sam," she said. Roxy was almost started by the throaty sound of her voice. "Who's your friend?"

"Hello Rebecca. This is Roxy."

"Hello...Roxy." She purred. Roxy felt herself blushing again, like an innocent schoolgirl she thought, as she answered,

"Hello Rebecca. Please, just call me Rox." The woman just smiled as her eyes scanned Roxy's body slowly. The she turned back to Sam.

"What have you told her?"

As Sam filled Rebecca in on what Roxy knew, Roxy looked around her, a little more relaxed now that most of the attention was away from her for the moment. All the furniture in the small room was black. There wasn't much: the reception table, a tall stool near the door, and a low leather two-seater couch. The bare walls were painted red, but the dim lights, which seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, cast shadows on everything. The air smelled slightly spicy, almost like incense. She couldn't tell what she was smelling, but she knew that she liked it. There was a black door just behind where Rebecca was standing, and another in the wall to the right. She wondered where they lead. Other than the sound of Sam and Rebecca's voices, the room was eerily silent. No sound came from behind the doors, no soft music to sooth the nervous, nor, for that matter, to intensify the anticipation. No hint whatsoever of what was to come.

Roxy jumped, startled out of her imaginings by Rebecca's purr, "If you're ready, Rox..." she gestured towards the door on the right just as it opened and another man, dressed the same as Rob, all the way down to the leather armband, stepped in. With a nervous glance at her friend, Roxy stood and followed him back through the door. She swallowed as it clicked shut behind her, her heart beating faster.

Friday 11:45 pm - The Club

Sam was sitting on a chair. She was naked now, and the room was silent. She'd been blindfolded before she was led inside, so she didn't know if she was alone or not. Her hands were sweating, just a little, and there were the stirrings of flutters in her stomach, in anticipation of what was to come. A door opened behind her and the cool air caressed the back of her neck and her shoulders, giving her goose bumps. She heard the footsteps of two or three people coming and the soft click of the door closing. She heard a woman gasp and stumble, as though she'd been pushed.

"Hey," said a man's voice, "we brought you a present." Sam sensed that he was talking to her. She wanted to ask what the present was, but that was against tonight's rules: obey quickly, don't cum without permission, and don't talk. She knew from experience that obeying the rules was in her best interest, so she kept her mouth shut.

"Stand up, and step forward," he continued, "There's a bed a few steps away. Your present is on the bed."

She obeyed, feeling her way to the bed. As she reached it, she felt a bare foot, which twitched, away from her groping fingers. As she moved her hand upwards, she felt a shackle secured tightly around the woman's ankle. Her calf was firm and smooth, and Sam heard the woman's breathing become a little faster. She drew her fingers slowly up, caressing the woman's thigh. It trembled slightly under her touch. Up, and up, until she could feel the heat coming from her crotch. Sam's breath caught in her throat as the image of plunging her fingers deep into another woman, flashed through her mind. Suddenly she felt the urge to fuck this woman. To tease her with her fingers, and her tongue. To make her beg. To make her moan. To make her cum. She wanted to devour her. She drew in a ragged breath and gasped, startled, as a hand grabbed her wrist.

"You can play with her, but don't let her come," he commanded. Sam nodded her understanding, and her wrist was released. She moved her lithe body up, kneeling on the bed, close to the woman's helpless body, and reached for her breasts. The woman's bare nipples were hard, and she gasped as Sam's fingers slowly started to pull and twist at them. Sam felt the roundness of the woman's breasts as her fingers continued their work.

She leaned down and took one nipple into her mouth. The woman groaned. Sam rolled her tongue around, and over, sucking and biting gently. As the woman strained against her bonds, Sam reached down and cupped the woman's cunt with her free hand. As she felt the woman's wetness, Sam became aware of the heat between her own legs. She felt like a dog in heat; all she wanted was to be consumed by this woman's body and the feelings it was giving her. The woman pushed her hips up into Sam's hand, but Sam moved with her, never letting her hand do more than just tease along the pubic hair. She could hear the impatience in the woman's moan, and she sucked even harder on her nipple. Then she sucked and bit down at the same time. The woman gave a startled cry of pain and tried to pull away, but she couldn't go far, and Sam followed her, sucking, licking and biting. Occasionally Sam let one or two fingers of her other hand slip in and touch the woman's clit. Each time she did, the woman strained up against her hand, silently begging for more. Sam could feel the wetness between her own legs as her partner's fervour increased. Her own breathing was fast and punctuated by those throaty sounds of lust.

"Stick your ass up higher." The man's voice startled Sam. She'd forgotten that they weren't alone. Without pausing, she titled her hips forward, arching her back so that her ass was raised.

"Nice," he said, and she felt a hand caress one cheek, his thumb sliding down into her crack. She pushed back into his hand as his thumb moved over her anus, and she sighed as he pulled away.

"You're such a slut," he said, chuckling. And she agreed in her mind as she slowly slid two fingers into the woman writhing below her. She felt the woman's muscles squeeze her fingers, and she herself moaned. The knowledge that she was doing this, that she was making this woman whimper and squirm, made her feel drunk.

"Eat her out, slut," he said. Sam felt her own cunt tighten. She shifted down, ass still high in the air, and slowly began to lick the woman's cunt. It was hot. Lick. It was wet. Lick. It was fabulous. Sam groaned as she gave in to her lust and shoved her face deep between the woman's legs. The woman rocked below her as Sam's tongue stroked her clit, first softly, then hard, then softly again. The woman was moaning, and straining to break free of her restraints. Sam closed her lips around the engorged clit and sucked. The woman gasped. Sam flicked her tongue hard against her. The woman cried out.

Sam backed off, letting the woman come down. It wasn't time yet.

"Good slut," said the man, "You remembered the rules. I think you deserve a reward for your good behaviour. Straddle her face. But remember: don't cum until I say that you can."

Sam obeyed and sighed as she felt the other woman's tongue touch her, hesitantly at first, and then surer. Sam heard the man whisper something to the woman, but she couldn't make out his words, and she was very close to not caring.

"Kneel up straight, slut, and put your hands behind your head." Sam obeyed.

"Spread your knees wider. That's it. Now, don't move." Same felt waves of pleasure start to sweep up and over her. The woman's tongue and lips were working magic. She felt her legs start to quiver. She cried out as the woman bit her, that mixture of pain and intense pleasure almost pushing her over the edge. She groaned, and her head rolled back as two hands roughly grabbed her breasts. Her breathing became ragged, and she was almost sobbing. The woman's tongue plunged inside of her, and then went back to work on her clit. The hands kneaded her breasts, pinching and twisting her nipples.

"Let me see your ass again," he commanded. She struggled to obey. She was so close. She would give almost anything to cum, make almost any promise. If she could talk, she would be begging. As it was, she whimpered as wave after wave crested and broke, and she got lost in the sensations churning through her body.

The she felt something cold between the cheeks of her ass. Suddenly, one hand was gone from her breasts and, as two hands spread her wide, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable, a third pushed something inside of her.

She realised three things simultaneously as the machine in her started to hum. There were at least two other people in the room besides her and the other woman, there was a vibrator shoved up her ass, and she was about to cum.

She fought her climax as long as she could. Her hands pulled at her own hair. Her hips writhed above the woman's face. Just as she thought she might be regaining control, the woman bit down on her, the man pinched her nipple hard, and the vibrator was pulled back and driven deep into her. At the same time. She exploded. She cried out before the full force of the orgasm hit her, and then her breath and body were paralyzed by the sensations crashing through her.

As she began to breath again, the vibrator was pulled out, and the man shoved her roughly so that she fell sideways onto the bed, her leg still straddling the other woman. Her stomach knotted with dread as she realised her mistake.

"You really are a fucking slut," said the man. "You know what this means, don't you? Are you prepared to accept your punishment?"

Sam nodded her consent as her hands were bound roughly behind her back and she was dragged from the bed.

Saturday 1:00 am - The Punishment

Someone led Sam into another room, and removed the blindfold from behind. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. She found herself in a small room blanketed with a lush red carpet. It felt soft, cushioning her bare feet. In the room there was a comfortable-looking armchair, empty, and, slightly apart, a small square footstool upholstered to match. On top of the stool, soft-looking white rope was coiled.

With her wrists still bound behind her, she turned to see who had brought her in. She saw a man dressed just as Rob from the door: in tight black leather pants, naked from the waist up, with a leather armband. Steve. Beside him stood another man, wearing an expensive-looking, nicely cut suit. There was a hungry look in his brown, middle-aged eyes.

The two men guided her further into the room, stopping next to the stool, untied her hands, and pushed her to her knees. Sam watched Steve's hard body lean in front of her and pick up one coil of rope. She felt a shiver pass through her.

Steve wound the rope three times around her chest, just below her breasts. As he circled around her back the last time, he crossed the rope up and circled three more times above her breasts. He tied off the rope behind her, just next to her backbone. He picked up another piece, and doubled it. He pushed the looped end down between her breasts, behind the rope coiled around her chest. He pulled the loose ends through the loop, and cinched it tight. He wound the doubled rope through and around a few times. Then, bringing the two loose ends ups, he drew one along either side of her neck and then down her back, finally tying it to the bottom set of ropes.

Sam's breasts were now tightly sandwiched between the ropes. She could already feel the burn of the ropes biting into her skin. There was one coil left, and Sam was decidedly unsettled by the thought of what it might be for. Steve picked it up, straddled the stool, and laid it across his lap.

"I expected better from you, Sam. Haven't you learned yet not to break the rules? Or maybe you do it on purpose? Maybe.... Well, that doesn't really matter, now does it? Are you wondering what this piece is for, slut?" Sam swallowed and nodded, and Steve laughed at her. "I'll bet you are." He gestured towards the man who had come in with him. "This is Mr. Yoshihara. He doesn't speak English. He's going to be watching your punishment." Steve stood up, turned to the other man, and said, "Dozo, Yoshihara-sama, osuwari kudasai."

Mr. Yoshihara bowed slightly, said "domo", and sat in the chair, which was to Sam's right. Now Sam could see him clearly: he had a smooth, strong-looking face, accented by his jet-black, silk-like hair, which was just beginning to grey at the temples. He exuded power. Sam doubted that anyone would ever dare to refuse this man anything. He was saying something in Japanese to Steve, who bowed towards him and replied: "Hai, Yoshihara-sama, wakarimashita."

Once again Steve sat on the stool facing Sam. He dragged the palms of his hands over her nipples, and she gasped, unprepared for burning feeling that it caused. He tweaked her nipples. Once, gently. Again, gently. Then he suddenly pinched them both hard. Sam cried out softly, tears coming to her eyes. He didn't let go, and Sam began to whimper, the pain increasing with the pressure. She looked into Steve's face, her eyes pleading with him to let go. Finally he did. Then he leaned forward and took one nipple into his mouth. His tongue lapping her nipple: around and over and around again. Again she gasped: it was incredible, and she was terrified that she'd cum right then. His tongue on her nipple shot spikes of fiery ice all the way through her. She could feel her cunt tightening in response. Her head rolled back, and she became lost in a world that held only Steve's tongue and her nipple.

Then her world was shattered as he bit down savagely. She cried out loudly as the pain shot through her, but riding along with the pain, almost hidden, another shot of pleasure trembled through her body. She found herself holding her breath, hoping for the next bite, yet dreading it.

He took both her breasts in his hands, alternately squeezing them, and pressing them hard against the ropes. Occasionally he took one nipple, or both, and squeezed. Sam was panting; now leaning into his hands, now shying away from the pain of his touch. Her body swayed, torn between the pain and pleasure he was causing. As he worked at her breasts, he said:

"Spread your knees apart." She obeyed, but was rewarded with a particularly vicious twist of her nipples. "Further, slut." Again, she obeyed, and was relieved when the pressure on her breasts was relaxed a little.

"Now, touch yourself." He commanded. She was surprised to find that she was dripping with her own juices. Her fingers slid easily along her cunt. She groaned as she pushed two fingers deep inside of herself, trembling. She pulled her fingers out again, sopping with juice, and circled them around her clit. She circled faster, her fingers pressing harder, more urgently. Steve was kneading one breast, and sucking on the other. She felt herself getting close, but afraid to cum without permission, she forced herself to slow down her hungry fingers.