For Your Dining Pleasure 1

OK, call me a whore. If getting paid for sex makes you one, I guess I was, at least for the evening.

But this was... different.

.

I knew I had a winner with Tanner. We were deeply in love and optimistic about the future. Our relationship was solid as they come.

Financially however we were doing no better than average for an undergrad couple our age, which is to say not particularly well. Thankfully, neither of us were wasting our time with a degree in some worthless warm-fuzzy pseudo-subject; Tanner was studying to be an electrician and I was studying computer programming.

We'd be OK in a couple of years, but at that moment, yeah, money was always short. We had enough for a membership at the local Y, basic food, a tiny apartment and each other. It was -- almost -- enough. Part-time jobs never provided us quite enough to make ends meet and we were uncomfortably aware of our snowballing student loans.

It wasn't just money - we didn't have a lot of time to waste, either. Our days were spent in class, studying, in bed together or working out at the gym.

One November evening, I came home to find Tanner reading a short note which had been left in our mailbox.

Dear Lisa and Tanner,

You have been recommended for a special employment opportunity.

I think you will find the terms interesting

and the pay very satisfactory.

The phone number is good for the next 36 hours. After that,

it will be assumed that you are not interested and it will be disconnected.

I look forward to hearing from you.

J.T.M.

There was nothing else but a business card for a 'Joy Thea McMann', with no job title given. Professional-printed and expensive-looking, it bore the name and logo of something called 'Wildebrandt Enterprises', but with no address or further information beyond an out-of-country phone number.

We looked at each other and shrugged. Any chance to pull in some extra money was worth investigating.

.

We met Joy McMann in due course at a small restaurant on the outskirts of town. She turned out to be a well-dressed, handsome woman in good shape for her age, which I judged to be perhaps late 50s. I sensed somebody with a will of iron, somebody who had been down a lot of rugged roads. Despite a somewhat severe appearance, she had a winning smile and greeted us both with hugs and a kiss.

After ordering us all a drink, she got straight to business.

"I have a business proposition for you two," she said. "It's rather... unusual in nature, but legal enough and pays quite well - $2,500 for an evening's work."

Tanner and I looked at each other. To us at that time it was a fortune.

"What does it involve?" he asked, staring at her.

She sat back. "There is a smallish group of men and women in the area who get together from time to time for a dinner and subsequent..." she paused momentarily, something I was to soon realize was a strong habit, "business discussions. I manage the meetings, including the meal, the facilities and the..." she paused again, "entertainment."

She looked from Tanner to me, looking for a response. Seeing none, she continued.

"It's become traditional to provide some sophisticated... diversions for our patrons over dinner."

My eyebrows went up, as did Tanner's.

"OK," she said. "I'll cut to the chase. You two have impressed some people at The Circle. From what I've seen, you're pretty impressive together."

"The Circle?" I asked. "I'm not sure I've ever seen you at one of their events."

Tanner and I, while primarily monogamous, had become involved in a local swinger group, known to its members as The Circle.

"I hope you haven't seen me," she said evenly. "We have an... arrangement with them and I tried very hard to be inconspicuous." She smiled. "Given the circumstances, it wasn't all that difficult.

"My point is that, in a large room full of naked men and women in the midst of every possible sexual activity, you two were the ones all eyes were on all evening. You made men horny and women jealous."

I was embarrassed, but not really surprised. Both of us had good figures to start off with. Tanner was only five feet, nine inches tall, but was lean, very handsome and buff as all heck. He had certainly grabbed my attention the first time I'd seen him the gym. I thought he would look good with a mustache, but he insisted on being clean-shaven.

Everywhere.

I found that pleasing.

Myself, I was not quite 'short' at five feet four but had a figure which drew a fair bit of attention, a really cute face and long blonde hair.

Put simply, we were miles ahead of the pack, appearance-wise.

"Lisa,' McMann said seriously. "you've a truly sweet bod and Tanner, in addition to be a very good-looking chunk of man, is, shall we say, properly... equipped for the job. You're both limber, uninhibited and gorgeous. You're also clearly in love. I think you'd be... perfect for the rôle."

"Which is?" Tanner asked, very softly. I was suddenly concerned he might lose his temper.

"Don't be coy, Tanner," she said soothingly. "We all know that neither of you are shy and that you're quite prepared to have sex in front of strangers. All we want in this case is to pay you to do it."

After a moment, he seemed to relax.

"Porn movies?"

"No, there will be no recordings made of any kind. We're talking one live... performance."

She paused to let that sink in, a very long pause this time.

I looked at Tanner and we gave each other a very small nod.

"We're willing to listen," he said.

"Let me show you something to make matters clearer," she said. "Have you ever worn contact lenses?"

"Both of us wear them on a regular basis," Tanner replied. "Why?"

"Good, that makes it easier." She brought out what looked like a normal lens case and opened it. Inside were what appeared to be ordinary contacts, but they were an odd, electric blue, totally unlike any real person's. She motioned us to pick one up. On doing so, we found that while they looked normal in one sense, the pupil was opaque, obviously designed to block all light. A person wearing them would be totally blind until they were removed.

"Part of the agreement," she said, "is that you would each wear a pair of these. They're high quality and perfectly sterile; we have them made in a professional lab in Europe."

"But how would we be able to see?" I asked, rather taken aback at the thin sapphire-colored disc in my hand.

"That's precisely the point," she said. "You wouldn't. You would put them on before our... patrons arrive. One of the things they insist on is anonymity. With these in, you won't be able to see them; the color will allow them to see at a glance that they're... invisible to you."

Tanner and I exchanged glances. "Erm, I guess so," I replied hesitatingly.

McMann smiled, replaced the lenses in their case. She then produced what looked like a pair of wireless ear-buds. "Try these, one each," she said.

They fit well enough, although I could barely see the one in Tanner's ear.

She held one wrist to her mouth. For the first time, I noticed an inconspicuous microphone there.

"I'll be your director for the evening,"

her voice in my ear explained.

"When it's time to change positions or do something different, I'll be able to talk to you through these without disturbing the patrons."

Tanner shrugged. "I'm not sure I'm into some blindfolded 'Eyes Wide Shut' scene."

McMann put her hand on his forearm, briefly, before holding up a printed form. "This is our contract," she assured him. "The patrons have all signed their own agreements, including both no-imagery and no-touching clauses. If any of them so much as lay a finger on either one of you, it's a six-figure penalty, bond already posted."

"Has that ever happened?" I asked, pensively.

"To be honest, yes, it did happen, two times. The last time was eight years ago and the other one three years before that. The patrons in question each received a forfeit which shook even their peers. I don't think it's going to happen again."

"How long would the show last?" I asked.

"It depends," she replied. "Generally, between an hour and 90 minutes."

Tanner shrugged beside me. "An hour and a half of straight...?" He rolled his eyes. "I don't think I can last that long, sorry."

McMann smiled reassuringly. "Of course not, Tanner. No normal man could. But, first off, it wouldn't be continuous. There will be some breaks for you two. And the last event at The Circle went on all evening.

"Secondly, we have access to some pretty special, um, substances to help the man out. Or the woman, if it comes to that."

"Viagra?"

"If you insist, but I doubt you'd need that, at least initially. Actually, we have some more effective things, ones still on the experimental list."

"So...?" I asked.

"So, dear, the plan is merely for you two to enjoy each other as evening entertainment for our patrons. You yourself get to have as many orgasms as he can give you -- and don't worry about being quiet." She turned to my boy and laid a hand lightly on his arm, this time not briefly.

"You, Tanner," she smiled thinly, "should aim for four."

"Four? In two hours?" he exclaimed. "You must have a lot of faith in me."

"How many did you have last week at The Circle?"

He closed his eyes in thought. "Um, three?"

"Four!" she retorted. "Two with Lisa, one with the tall brunette and one with that little Asian girl, the one with the tattoos. Don't sell yourself short, Tanner -- you're young, full of vitamins and really fit." She smiled at him -- a knowing smile.

"Four would be nice, Tanner, but it really doesn't matter provided that the show is good."

We again looked at each other, nodded.

"Grooming," she said next. "You are both well-kept, thankfully. The day before your engagement, you will both need to have a full body waxing. It's up to you but I would recommend this salon," she said, passing us a business card. "They're used to... accommodating both sexes. Bring us the bill and we'll add the cost to your fee.

"You," she said, pointing at Tanner, "need to get a haircut as well. Don't change your style, it's... darling, just trim up any loose ends."

Turning to me, she smiled brightly. "Dear, your hair is gorgeous as it is. Don't put it up or anything. We'll just leave it loose, OK?"

I nodded in agreement. I'd always thought my hair was one of my best features.

"Makeup," she said. "Obviously you will need some, Lisa, but I will have an esthetician there before you go on. Don't bother to wear any that day or she'll just have to scrub it off."

I nodded again.

.

The contract she presented was short enough, committing us to provide our 'professional entertainment' services to 'Wildebrandt Enterprises', plus a total lifetime non-disclosure agreement. Oddly enough, it seemed to be written in plain English rather than incomprehensible legalese. Our fees were spelled out, although the exact nature of our duties was not. The penalty clause for breaking silence was surprisingly stiff and I got the impression that Wildebrandt had an entire cohort of flesh-eating lawyers waiting eagerly in the wings for that possibility. As she noted, we were indemnified against any actual contact with her 'patrons' or other Wildebrandt employees.

Tanner laid his hand on mine. "You're sure?"

I looked at him and, turning to McMann, simply asked for a pen.

Before we finished, she handed me an envelope containing $500 in cash. "An advance on expenses," she said. "Keep your receipts."

With that, she left.

.

We were to meet her in a local coffee shop on The Day - 23 December. We had been seated for no more than a couple of minutes when a very large, well-dressed, friendly-looking black man came up to our table and, smiling, said our names.

"My name's Jamie," he said. He extended his arm as if to shake hands, but instead his palm held small photos of Tanner, McMann and me at our initial meeting. "Ms McMann sends her apologies but she is tied up and sent me to fetch you. I have a car outside."

We walked out of the shop and stood on the sidewalk. A grey limo, no less, pulled up and the passenger door opened. Jamie waved us in and followed. Only when the door closed behind us did we notice that the privacy screen in front of us was up and all the windows were blacked out.

Jamie noticed our obvious unease and reassured us. "Just a matter of confidentiality," he said as the vehicle started off. "Oh, I'll also need your phones if you brought them. More privacy stuff," he smiled.

I remembered that had been mentioned in the contract.

He handed us a bag with a self-seal strip. Once we'd put our phones in it, he sealed it and handed us a pen to write our signatures on the security rectangle over the seam. "You'll get them back afterward, no problem."

He then opened a small compartment which proved to be a built-in refrigerator. "Coke? Ice tea? I'd offer you wine or beer, but not on production nights."

We pointed at our choices; he handed us each a bottle and selected a Perrier for himself before sitting back in his seat. "Just relax," he said. "It'll take about an hour to get there."

"And you're not saying where, are you?" Tanner asked, his eyes fixed on Jamie.

"Nope," Jamie grinned, taking a sip of his water. "That's all part of the game."

"Have you worked for Ms McMann very long?" I asked, trying to make conversation.

"Long enough."

"What's Wildebrandt Enterprises do in the daylight? We couldn't find it on the net."

"Oh, it's a service company. Does lots of things, depending on the needs of the customers."

It was pretty obvious that Jamie was a past master in keeping his mouth shut. I noticed a modest TV screen at the front of the compartment. "Does that work?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I should've asked." Reaching into a side pocket by his seat, he pulled out a standard-looking remote. The TV showed perhaps half a dozen major news networks - CNN, MSNBC, BNN and so forth. Nothing particularly interesting, but it was better than just sitting there, so I chose one and settled in. There was a small rack with current magazines and Tanner buried himself, typically, in 'Sports Illustrated'.

.

It could have been half an hour; it could've been an hour and a half. The limo bumped here and there, made turns, sped up, slowed down. We could've been in Patagonia for all I knew. Eventually, it turned, slowed, turned, slowed still more, stopped. The engine shut down.

Jamie smiled again, opened the car door.

Picture the shipping and receiving bay in any building in any one of a thousand cities -- a poured concrete floor sloping down to drain grids, painted cinder block walls, exposed pipes and vents under a high ceiling, windowless roll-down doors at either end, both closed. There were no signs, no posters, nothing to break the institutional sterility beyond a couple of brooms, a fire extinguisher and a trash can.

"We're here," he said. "You two ready?"

Without waiting for an answer, he led us through an unmarked fire door. Beyond it was a very ordinary hallway with white walls and an industrial tile floor. We followed him until he stopped, opened one unlabelled door among many others and motioned us through.

It looked like a higher-end staff lounge in any one of a million buildings - fairly nice furniture, a big screen TV and a coffee machine with an assortment of pods. Two doors were marked with international washroom symbols. We had the place to ourselves.

"Please sit down. Help yourself to coffee if you would like. Ms McMann will be along in a minute." With that, he left.

I was making myself a tea when she strode in.

"Good to see you again!" she said. "Before we take you in for your... makeover, Lisa, why don't I show you two where you will be, um, performing?" Falling in between us and holding each of us by the upper arm, she led us back into the hallway and through yet another unmarked door.

The room was large and open, opulently decorated and furnished. Wreaths had been hung here and there in celebration of the season.

In the centre was a circular table, capable of seating perhaps 20 diners. It looked to be made of some fine wood and was obviously custom-made, with matching chairs all around the outside. The table was set for dinner with multiple sets of tableware. A row of half a dozen crystal glasses rested in front of each place. Red, white and green candles were nestled in pine arrangements here and there.

The centre portion of the table was empty, so that the table made a large O-shape. A small gap to one side permitted entry.

Inside, in the very centre, was a round platform eight or ten feet across. The platform was covered with red leather and its top was perhaps knee-high; anyone seated at the table would have a perfect view. There was a collection of matching leather cushions, pillows and ottomans of various sizes and shapes scattered between the platform and the table.

Four people were standing in one corner. Like Japanese

kuroko,

prop-movers, they were dressed in flat black from head to foot. Even their eyes were covered in black gauze.

All four were on the short side of average and slim to the point of being androgynous, but I got the impression that there were two women and two men. They stood with hands behind their backs, their posture impassive.

"They're your stage crew," Joy explained. "They'll help you in and out of the room, assist you during scene changes and so forth. Just accept their guidance."

"Let's run through this," she said. "Here are your ear buds. Let's get used to them."

We dutifully put them in our ears.

I noticed that she was again wired, this time rigged with an inconspicuous wrist microphone on the inside of each wrist. As we watched, she lifted one to her mouth. The voice in my ear was loud and clear when she tested it.

Dropping her wrist, she continued.

"You two will disrobe in the change rooms. Don't worry about your belongings; they'll be fine. You'll get a three-minute warning, your last chance to pee if you need to. One of the handlers will help you with the contact lenses. They'll lead you in here and up onto the stage.

"The stage will begin rotating once you are on it, but quite slowly, you won't have any problems with balance.

"We'll start out with you standing in the centre of the platform, back to back. Lean back a little against each other if you want but be sure to reach back and hold each other's hands. Spread your legs a little. We'll give the patrons a couple of minutes to admire the two of you while I introduce you then, using stage names. Do you have any ones you want me to use?"

We shook our heads. How could it matter?

McMann motioned us to take up our places on the stage. It was clear that we would be on full display, with everybody in the room being able to see everything. I found my heart beating in anticipation -- both excitement and nervousness. My nipples hardened just a little.

"Any questions so far?" she asked.

Tanner shifted behind me. I could tell he was embarrassed. "Erm, do I need to be hard when we come in?"

"No. Actually, many of our female patrons like to watch a man getting erect." She grinned slightly. "I know I do. Whatever works, dear.

"After a couple of minutes onstage, I'll give you your next instructions.

"When I tell you, turn, face each other and begin foreplay. You can do whatever turns you two on. I've seen you in action and you won't need any... guidance." She smiled again.

"Tanner, you asked earlier about this being a porn set. It isn't, but in general, I'd like you two to consider... positioning yourselves as if it were. Try to make sure that your audience can see the action."

We nodded, turned inwards. I saw his beautiful eyes looking at me and my heart leapt a little.