Chapter 4: Adventure Time
It was Friday night. The household had settled into a comfortable rhythm: school; a gentle homecoming; warm, erotic company; Regan spending almost all of her time with Cindy. Every now and then, soft sighs or muffled screams would issue from Cindy's room.
Lillian had decided it was time to shake up her young friend a little more, and try to widen Sharon's horizons a little further. She was dressing for her favorite club in a high, long-sleeved, polo neck top, a matching tight, hip and leg-hugging pencil skirt, and intimidating high heels. Her hair was tied back into a severe ponytail, and her makeup was harshly defined. She looked very stern.
The only real clubs Sharon knew about were the one's at school; the tennis club, the chess club, physics club, etc. She had seen the TV versions, of course, but had always tossed them off as being unreachable to her. When Lillian told her they were going to an, "exclusive club," her mind immediately conjured visions of, "CSI: Miami," "Burn Notice," and several other "slick" television shows which took place in the Miami, Florida area.
During the week, Cindy had washed, ironed and either folded or hung in the closet as deemed appropriate. Sharon went through the meager collection, choosing a few totally mismatched pieces; she wanted to make her own statement.
A short lime-green halter top over a blue tie-dyed t-shirt, the fashionably ripped blue jeans she'd worn when she showed up on Lillian's doorstep, blazing yellow socks, and purple high-topped sneakers (the same style worn by Regan the other day). She fastened her hair into pigtails on either side of her head, applying a modicum of makeup.
Lillian strode out, pausing when she saw Sharon. "Oh sweetheart. You look positively good enough to eat." She grinned and headed down the stairs, managing to walk smoothly despite the skirt and heels. "Come on then. Lets go. We don't want to catch the rush."
The Gigglebox did her thing, giggling as she smiled cutely. "Ms Lillian? Are you sure they'll even let me in? I saw on TV once where the guy at the door would point to one person and motion him in and then the girl behind would be sent away. That's kinda mean to do to somebody."
"It's... not quite that kind of club, sweetheart. Besides, I'm a member. They'll let me in and anyone with me. Come on now, lets get going."
Sharon skipped down the stairs, pinching Lillian's butt as she did so, giggling madly as she followed her girlfriend to the car, virtually leaping inside. ADVENTURE TIME!
Lillian laughed as she was pinched, shaking her head, moving around to climb into the car. Seconds later they were reversed out and cruising down the back roads of the suburb, leaving Regan and Cindy behind in their own little "Lust Nest."
"It's an interesting club. When the gentlemen's clubs closed down in the area, they grew too elitist, some of them survived by catering to a new clientele. This is one of them, that... well, you'll see." She grinned and turned another corner, heading for a large mansion-like house with a very high wall at the end.
The young girl could NOT keep her eyes of Lillian, despite having seen her every day for the past week. She simply stared at Lillian's profile, reaching out to lay a hand on her thigh. The latest music from Shakira came on the radio, and she reached to turn it up, quirking a brow at Lillian to see if she minded.
Lillian seemed quite happy with the music, slowing the car as she came up to the gate. There was a brief pause and then the large gates swung ponderously open. She turned in, the gates closing behind them, a long row of cars lining each side of the driveway. She found an empty space and parked, then turned to lean and brush Sharon's lips with her own.
Sharon returned with a gentle kiss of her own, gently squeezing Lillian's thigh. She needed almost constant reassurance that the gorgeous woman was real and not a dream. Breaking the kiss, she looked out the window at the grounds and the other cars; faint outlines of people in some, but most cars were empty. She took a deep breath, seemed to settle herself and opened the door to get out.
Lillian climbed out, and then led the way up the driveway to the front door of the house. The door opened as she approached, a tall figure in a very formal suit outlined in the light that spilled into the dark garden. It seemed odd that none of the windows emitted light. "Good evening, Wilson. Is the house master in tonight?" Lillian asked as she stepped up to the doorway.
"I am afraid not, Madam," the man answered. "He's in Germany this week, I believe." Lillian sighed and reached back to take Sharon's hand and led her inside.
Sharon gawped at the man. This guy was huge! Some of those wrestlers on TV weren't this big! Sharon visibly shrank and clutched Lillian's hand almost in a death grip, her feet refusing to move. "M-m-m-ms Lillian..." she stammered. "I'm scared. Can't we go to the mall or something?" The girl was terrified, not scared (not to put too fine a point on it).
Lillian paused, looking back at Sharon in some surprise. Then her face softened and she stepped up to the girl, lifting her face for a featherlight kiss. "It's okay, love," she murmured. "He's the butler. You're as safe in this house as you are in mine, I promise. Come on... I really do think you'll like this."
Ms Lillian said it, Sharon believed it. End of discussion. Still gripping Lillian's tightly, she mustered a hesitant smile for the butler and sidled past him. As she had done at the restaurant, the girl practically glued herself to Lillian's arm, staring wide-eyed around the room, absorbing as much as she could.
In typical grandiose style, the entryway was a large hall, with a sweeping staircase up to the second floor, which overlooked the large space. Small groups, dressed in formal clothes, stood talking... it looked like a typical scene from any fancy formal gathering. Until, that is, one started noting the incongruities.
The woman with a tray of drinks was wearing a tiny dress, it barely covered her ass and revealed a great deal of cleavage. One of the other women, dressed otherwise formally, appeared to be wearing a dog collar, the man next to her firmly holding the lead. And so on.
Sharon's head was in full-swivel mode as she started actively looking for discrepancies. She giggled and pointed to a tuxedoed woman who rested her foot on the back of a man lying prostrate, he too, wore a tuxedo. The woman was speaking to another well-dressed man who's companion sat on the floor with folded knees, eyes lowered.
Lillian nodded, glancing around to see who she recognized, nodding a vague hello to some of the patrons. "Now, we have a choice: there are the playing rooms, the trade viewing rooms, or the gardens to visit."
"Ms Lillian, do *I* have to do....?" Spotting a pair of women with their arms around each others waists chatting amiably with a male couple stopped the words in her throat. It was quite obvious that she was not out of place, though she did feel under dressed. "Never mind, Ms Lillian. What're the trade viewing rooms? That sounds pretty neat."
Lillian laughed, catching the intention of the question. "Don't worry, love. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. The viewing rooms, well, that's like the personals of the club. Slaves who are looking for an owner, or to be sold or traded, or just to show themselves off, submit a video that joins the loop. This way."
She led the way to a door on the side, opening it to reveal another large room. Rows of recliners faced a huge screen.
On the screen was a large view of a skinny young woman, bent over a kitchen table. An unseen figure was busily taking her from behind. Some of the figures on the recliners appeared to be using laptops, on another recliner, nearby, a stark naked woman was busily sucking a man's very erect cock. The moans of the woman in the video filled the room.
Sharon became beet red at seeing the room, but forced herself to look, to study the actions of everyone in the room. Her gaze lingered on the cock-sucking woman, entranced by the head motions, the jiggling breasts as the woman blew the man. Her eyes traveled up the man's body, seeing his eyes closed in ecstasy.
The image on the big screen had a 5-digit number in the corner, which Lillian pointed out. "People can use that number to link to a page with the slave's details on it. Every submissive who joins the club has to submit a video, if they want to meet anyone." The video came to an end as whoever was using the woman obviously came inside her, then changed to a video with a different number, showing an oiled, muscular young man kissing the inside of a woman's thigh, her upper body hidden from view.
The woman on the nearby recliner coughed and giggled as the man filled her mouth with cum. Other couches had more pairs on them, writhing in the darkness, outlined by the screen. Sharon, feeling much braver now that she got the idea of this sex club, decided that anything went here.
Feeling emboldened by Lillian's presence she reached under her shirt, undid her bra, and pulled it out, stuffing it in her back pocket. Her arms disappeared inside her large shirt, she reached out of the neck hole to grasp the rear of it and pull it over her head, leaving the halter top in place. Her nipples poked the fabric as she rolled up the shirt and stuffed in her other back pocket. "Is this okay, Ms Lillian?"
Lillian watched with amusement, leaning against the door frame. "Oh, very okay, sweetheart. There's no dress code here, and without a video people won't harass you... well, unless you invite them to, of course. Anyway, this is the trade room... do you want to stay here, or go to one of the other rooms?"
The youth grinned, taking Lillian's hand again, no longer squeezing the circulation out of it, and moved next to her Goddess, still a bit skittish at this new world. "Oh, we HAVE to see the other rooms! Can we, please?"
