The Fantasy Club

Chapter 4: The Fantasy Club

1: The Morning – 2:00am to 1:00pm

2: The College – 1:00pm to 3:00pm

3: The Mall – 3:00pm to 6:00pm

4: The Fantasy Club – 6:00pm to 9:00pm

5: The Nightclub – 9:00pm to 12:00am

6: The Apartment –12:00am to 2:00am

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Characters in Chapter 4:

Club employees:

Ali - grad student (24 years old)

Stephanie - entertainer (26 years old)

Mira - switch (25 years old)

Phaedra - domme (26 years old)

Lisa - mistress (36 years old)

Tiffany - flexible (22 years old)

Dirk - switch (30 years old)

Club clients:

Dr. Johnson - Ali's first client (55 years old)

Edwin Brand - Ali's second client (46 years old)

Jerry - Phaedra & Dirk's first client (42 years old)

Larry - Phaedra & Dirk's second client (39 years old)

Thomas - Mira's first client (26 years old)

Alphonse - Mira's second client (38 years old)

Doug - Tiffany & Lisa's first client (44 years old)

Helen – Tiffany & Lisa's second client (48 years old)

Rob - professor (32 years old)

Sarah - backup dancer (27 years old)

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Prologue - 5:30pm – in the School Classroom:

"Why, Dr. Johnson, are you trying to look down my blouse?" Ali exclaimed in a shocked tone.

"I don't think that's very appropriate – after all, you're the principal and I am your student"

She pursed her lips tight and tsk'ed, "No sir, I don't think that is appropriate at all."

Each time she said the word "appropriate", she ground her left knee into his crotch, pressing against the erection clearly visible through his thin dress slacks. Her short, red plaid skirt shook with the motion.

Both of her knees were in his lap, and she kneeled on him with her hands on his shoulders. Her "blouse" – which was actually a tight, plunge-cut, white sleeveless top – was inches away from his glasses, and the red-sequined push-up bra peeking from underneath gave her a deep canyon of cleavage. The tops of her breasts shook she ground down her knee.

"You should respect me."

She leaned forward and pressed her chest right into his face, popping his glasses up and off, and folding her arms behind his head. He barely had time to gasp with pleasure before his nose was full of perfume and his mouth was full of soft creamy flesh.

She let him stay there for a minute before grasping the back of his balding head with both of her hands and gently but firmly tilting it back until he looked up at her. She leaned her head down so she was staring right at him, and their noses lightly brushed. Her breath was hot against his face and she smelled of exotic, intoxicating perfume. He stared back, utterly captivated.

"You should look me in the eyes."

Ali reached down and took hold of Dr. Johnson's necktie, pulling and stretching it. She ran her tongue along the fabric and smiled wickedly, remembering Francis. Dr. Johnson was fixated on her mouth.

As she started to lick his face from his chin up over his lips and nose to his forehead, his hands, bound together behind the chair with a pair of pink panties, shook as they pressed against each other.

*********

Chapter 4.1 - 6:15pm – by the Front Entrance:

"This can't be right."

Rob looked down at the doorway, five feet below the street, at the foot of a short flight of steps. He could hear the river one block over, the low slap of waves against the embankment siding.

The door was metal, rusted in places but extremely solid-looking. Above it was a cracked and faded sign that said "Flights of Fantasy" in embossed letters.

As he was standing there puzzled, the rusted door opened, and a man came out. He was in his 50s, balding, wearing glasses and a rumpled tan sport coat with leather elbow patches. His tie was completely undone, hanging from his collar and falling down his shirt. He came up the steps slowly, as if he was in a daze, and had a slack smile on his face. He nodded amicably to Rob, and winked. Then he was past, walking into the night.

Rob watched him go for a minute, then shrugged and went down to the door. He pulled at the handle, but it was locked. To the right of the door was inset a red square push button.

Swallowing his nervousness, Rob pressed the button. Somewhere in the shadow above the door, a speaker crackled to life and a woman's voice said, "Yes?"

"I ... I'm supposed to meet someone here."

Silence.

"I have a card," he remembered, and held out the card Ali had given him. He assumed there must be a camera somewhere.

"Who are you here to see?" the voice challenged.

"I am here to see Ali. Alison, I mean."

With a click, the door swung open, revealing a shadowy hallway extending into darkness. Rob glance behind him, but the alley was quiet. He turned back to the doorway.

The smooth hardwood floor was covered with an ornate oriental runner carpet, extending about 100 feet. Light shone through a beaded curtain at the end, from whatever space lay inside. After Rob stepped inside, he heard another soft click, and the door smoothly closed behind him.

Once his eyes adjusted, he could see the hallway in more detail. There were bookshelves and velour hangings on each side, and several large, closed doors. The dusty mansion vibe was so strong, Rob almost expected to see a suit of armor. Passing down the hall, Rob saw doors on both sides, newer looking than the hallway, with smooth, modern metal doorknobs. At the end of the hall was a beaded curtain, and Rob could see a larger space on the other side. As he parted the beads and stepped into the room beyond, Rob found himself in what looked like a speakeasy lounge. He heard light piano jazz coming from hidden speakers all around him.

To his right, a recessed seating area was covered in oriental carpeting and held ottomans, upholstered benches and the occasional chaise lounge. Beyond that was a small band stage, backed with a red velour drape. To his left was a line of semi-private booths with pull curtains, curving in a wide semicircle towards the back wall. There, a large bar anchored the far side of the room, and beaded doorways led behind it to either side. Along the wall behind the bar, interspersed with the bottles, were pairs of high heels atop lighted pedestals. On the center of the right wall was a single opening. Both the molding around the doorway and hallway that plunged off of it were painted in crimson red. Above it all, suspended from the pressed tin ceiling, a belt drive rig turned three large wicker fans, slowly and silently.

Rob noticed all of this in his periphery, looking past it all, eyes fixed on the end of the bar. There was woman seated on the second to last barstool, her back to him.

Glow from the display behind the bar combined with the shadowy overhead lighting meant Rob could see more of her silhouette than any details. But he was still taken with her immediately.

She had an overflowing mountain of curly red hair, partially up, and the backlight made it glow like a halo. She was in a gown of silver sequins, sparkling with every movement she made. As Rob entered the room, she sipped from a martini glass, and Rob could see she wore silver gloves to match her dress. Glittery platform heels completed the look, one hooked on the barstool.

Rob took a few timid steps toward the center of the room, unsure exactly how to proceed.

Just then, preceded by the sharp clicking of high heels, a striking woman came striding out of the red passage. It wasn't until she was fully inside the room that Rob recognized her as his date for the evening. His heart started beating faster as he began to take in Ali's presentation.

She was wearing a black pinstripe woman's business suit, with a tight pencil skirt and a blazer. Her lips were cherry red, and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun. A pair of nude nylon hose sheathed her long legs and nestled inside a pair black Louboutin stiletto heels, red soles matching her red lips.

As she passed the bar, she put her arm around the woman seated there and brushed aside red bouncy curls to whisper something in her ear. Then she turned and faced Rob. Her smile grew wide as she saw him take her in.

Rob, for his part, just gaped. Half of it was seeing his student – former student – in such different array, and the other half was simply how incredible she looked. He fixated on the curve of her smooth stockinged calves.

"Hello dear," she purred. "I am so happy you came. We're going to have so much fun."

His heart was a woodpecker, a jackhammer, an EDM track.

"But, I have to do something first." She looked down in mock apology, wide-eyed and cartoonishly faux-submissive. "So sorry," she purred. "I acquired a last-minute meeting, after I left you earlier."

At that moment, little bell chimed from somewhere overhead, and Ali drew in a deep breath. "Right on time." She said, and turned to face Rob directly. "I am so very excited that you're here – I have been waiting for this for a while now. But I have to put in a shift at work, now, and I hope you will bear with me."

Rob was nodding before she finished speaking. "I think it's fair to say that you have got me on the hook, Ali. Do whatever you need to do – I'd wait all night for you."

She clapped her hands excitedly. "Oh, your patience will be well rewarded, Professor."

She winked when she used his title.

"I'm going to go into character now – don't be alarmed if I get a little ... intense."

Quick as a cat, she darted in and kissed him lightly on the lips, and then, pushing him in the direction of the bar, she backed off and walked quickly to the center of the room.

Rob slipped onto a barstool in the middle of the bar and had just settled when beaded curtains parted and a man stepped in. As soon as he was through the beads, Ali called out to him.

"Mister Brand!" Her voice was powerful and commanding.

The man stopped instantly and stood in place. He was broad shouldered, and blond with a crop cut. His silk suit looked like it cost a thousand dollars. He had a Zero Halliburton steel briefcase clutched in a tight grip.

Ali began walking toward him, deliberately and evenly. Her heels striking the floor sounded like a snare drum. She strode up to him and stopped only inches before they collided.

"Do you think you can just march in here with no notice like this?" Her voice was loud and crisp and filled the room.

"No, ma'am." His voice was rough and scratchy, and his accent was English.

"I am a woman in demand." Ali raised her right hand and held up her index finger.

"Yes, ma'am." He reminded Rob of a production of Oliver he had seen years ago.

"I had something to do tonight." Ali's finger stabbed the man in the chest once, then came back up to point at the air. "Something I have wanted to do for quite a while." Her voice was husky and sensual. Then without any hesitation, she whipped her hand around and slapped the Englishman across the face.

At the bar, Rob jumped in his seat. He was about to get up when an arm in a slinky silver glove slipped around his shoulder.

He snapped his head around to see the other woman, who he had forgotten about, was standing next to him leaning against the bar. His body caught up with his brain, and he became aware of her exotic perfume. The scent somehow invigorated him, as if he had swallowed a mouthful of espresso.

His sharpening focus returned to Ali and the stranger when she spoke again.

"And now I'm going to have to wait, because your needy ass is here."

"I'm sorry, Mistress." The man had a glint in his eye that indicates otherwise.

"We'll see about that." She snapped her fingers, and gestured at the Halliburton case.

He hoisted the briefcase up in his hand and opened it, presenting the contents to Ali.

Rob couldn't make out exactly what was inside, but saw a glint of glass and a flash of blue leather.

Ali pulled out a dog collar and dangled it before her. Then she closed the case and took it from him, giving him the collar in exchange. Mutely, he fastened it around his neck, and pulled the clasp tight.

Ali walked around him slowly, looking him over to bottom. When she was behind him, she turned to give Rob a wink before slapping the big man on the ass. She strode past him as he stumbled forward and then followed her. They went through a curtained doorway on the wall opposite the bar.

Rob heard Ali's heels click off into the distance as he sat frozen on the stool, trying to process what he had just witnessed. This was the same woman that had been sitting in his class a few hours ago.

Then without warning, the arm around his shoulder pulled back, spinning both him and the bar stool around, and he was face to face with an astoundingly beautiful redhead.

Her skin was pale and smooth, and her eyes sparkled a bright sapphire blue above sculpted, aristocratic cheekbones. Her brilliant red hair was a magnificent flowering of tight bouncy curls, piled into a crown, with dangling ringlets to either side. Out of his peripheral vision, he could glimpse her cleavage exploding out of that tight sequined dress, but he was struck by her flawless fashion-model face and didn't even glance down.

Her eyes stayed locked on his, and she slowly raised her left arm and pointed at something over his shoulder. Slowly, he turned and looked, letting his gaze flow from her face, past her neck and exposed shoulder and down the length of her arm. She was pointing at a series of booths on the far wall, behind a beaded curtain.

He looked back questioningly, and she inclined her head and then brought it up again, her chin nodding toward the booths. Rob knew a command when he saw one, and stood. She stood as well and started towards the booths. As she passed him, she took his hand in hers and led him back.

It reminded Rob of how an exotic dancer would take someone from the bar to the lap dance section of the club. With a fetish like his, he had been to his fair share of strip clubs ... but nothing like this before! For one, she was hotter than any dancer he had ever seen. For another, the place was totally empty.

Turning slightly, she parted the beads with her other arm, and then stopped still and pulled Rob's hand forward. His momentum carried him past her to the bench, and he half turned as her hand pulled him back. For a moment they stood face to face before she reached up, and with one dainty finger, pushed him in the chest. He sat on the padded bench, and she took a step forward so that her legs were almost touching his. Very much like a private dance, he thought. Then he took in her body, with all the good parts now at eye level.

She bent over Rob, red ringlets falling down beside her face, and rested her hands on his thighs, and for a minute froze there with her eyes closed. Her deep cleavage hung directly in front of his face, milky white skin curving away into the silver sequins, round and smooth and pressed together promising soft, squishy delight. They swayed slightly in the dress as she breathed, and it was with considerable willpower that Rob wrenched his gaze up and swept over her face. Her closed eyes glittered sliver and her full lips shone red against the pale field of her skin and were echoed in the slight blushed colour of her cheeks.

Her eyes popped open, shining blue and full of mischievousness.

"Hi!" Her voice was rich and musical. "I'm Stephanie. Ali told me to keep you occupied until she was done."

As Stephanie talked, her hands were slowly squeezing his legs, alternating between one then the other.

"She said I should have no problem at all. She told me you like to look."

"Well I like to be looked at." Stephanie laughed, light and musical, and as she did her cleavage jiggled within the dress. "And, I happen to know–."

Rob stared at her red lips as they moved, flourishing with each syllable.

"–That I am quite nice to look at." Her tongue darted around her lips in a quick circle, and her smile grew bigger. "Don't you agree?"

Rob started to stammer out an answer when she bent her arms all of a sudden and dropped her head into his lap. She swirled her red curly hair around his lap a few times, and as she did, one leg kicked up. Rob stared at the red toenail peeking through the black platform high heel. Steph swirled one last time and then pressed the top of her head into the crotch of his pants, pushing and squeezing the stiffening muscle there, and then she snapped back up to stare into his eyes.

"No need to answer – I can tell."

She laughed again and leaned forward until Rob's nose was touching her cleavage. He could feel the heat of her skin, and smell her perfume.

"I'm very good at these things. I know just what the boys like to see. And I'm going to treat you to a few of my best combos."

As she said this, she moved from side to side, so Rob's nose brushed against each soft breast in turn.

Then she stood up straight and, pushing Rob's legs apart, eased herself in between until her legs were pressed against his crotch. The contact was electric, and Rob gasped in pleasure. He heard her musical laughter from somewhere above him, and started to look up but then she began to spin in place. Her legs dragged against his bulge as she turned, then her ass was in his face, outlined perfectly by the tight dress.

"Unzip me," she breathed.

He leaned forward until his nose was just about to touch her butt and then reached up, over the hills of her cheeks into the valley of her upper back, and found a zipper, just where her hair stopped.

It was tight but he pulled it down, and watched as the dress separated, almost in slow motion. She stepped out of the dress, then turned back to face him.

Her lingerie was silver, too, a full cup bra with black lace trim atop a thin silvery thong panty. And the curves coming out of that bra were unbelievable, perfectly lofted spheres of pale white skin. He could see that they were firm and even, but had slight jiggle whenever she moved, and he knew they were real.

Still between his spread legs, she knelt a little until her knee was pressing right into his half-hard cock, then she began to ease her leg up and down, rubbing against him rhythmically.

She didn't say anything else, just danced on him, slow and sultry, swirling her legs all around his. Her fantastic chest and trim tight stomach bewitched his eyes as her knees enchanted his dick, owning his desire and working him expertly. It wasn't even out of his pants yet and he was getting sensations as if he was already fucking.

Her tits danced all around his face, but she never actually brought them into contact with him for more than a split second. Once or twice he felt the fabric of her bra brush against his nose or cheek, an exhilarating tease. His breathing was fast, and her perfume hung all around him like a haze of hookah smoke, filling his senses and bewildering his brain.

On one of her chest swoops, he opened his mouth and let his lips trail briefly against her breast. She paused for a moment and brought her hand up for a mock slap. Instead she touched his cheek with one finger and poked it around. It crept over to his lips and slipped inside. He stared up through her red hair, and met her gaze as he sucked on her finger. Her knee work intensified.

Then she pulled her hand back and grabbed his right arm, holding it up in the air. Spinning to face away from him, she placed his hand on her waistband and hooked his fingers inside her panty band. Her hand was on top of his, reinforcing his grip.

Like a tumbler, she twisted and pulled one leg up and out of her panties, as they both held them in place, and then switched legs and stepped fully out of them. Her fingers reached over his and took possession of the panties as she stood. Rob stared at her smooth shaved nether region for a moment before she grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him up.

They stood eye to eye and she held up the silver panties, dangling them in front of his face. Then in one sharp motion she thrust them down his pants.