This story is the sixth in a series about the Director. Some of the characters in this story were introduced in
The Director's Kitten
, and
The Director: Julie Ann
; the setting of the club first appeared in
The Director: Club Incognito
.
"I'm sorry, we're not letting any more people in," said the willowy brunette, who had introduced herself earlier as Catherine Vincent. She was flanked by a big bouncer who looked like he could lift twice his own weight. They stood before a velvet curtain that separated the jam-packed lobby from the club. "I'd love to let you all in, really I would. You, miss, I love that dress. If you got it, flaunt it, am I right or am I right? But I just can't. There isn't room."
Tonya sighed. She'd been looking forward to getting into Incognito, the city's most notorious sex club. Her life was in need of a walk on the wild side, and getting into Incognito would definitely qualify. News about the club had spread through every underground scene. Two famous actors had even been spotted going in, although they'd refused to say exactly what happened there other than "unbridled licentiousness." Her roommate, Josie, had bet her fifty bucks she wouldn't dare go, and if she came home after being turned back, she'd not only be out the fifty bucks but Josie would think she chickened out. She was willing to lose the fifty bucks, but she wanted to prove she was as daring as Josie if not more so. If there was angle she could work to get in, she'd work it, but she didn't see what it was.
She'd worn her most daring dress -- a silver sequined number with a deep V neck that showed off lots of cleavage. She had to pull it down constantly to keep it from riding up over her ass. She'd bought a pair of silver heels to go with it, and had her auburn hair blown out into perfect waves, all in order to look like someone the proprietors of a sex club would want inside.
Among those who had been denied entry, hers wasn't even the sexiest outfit. Catherine had been complimenting another woman, who had more up top and was threatening to spill out of her bustier.
"What if someone leaves?" asked a man in a tux.
"If someone leaves, I can let someone in." Catherine Vincent's voice either betrayed irritation or doubt.
"Who?" asked a woman's voice.
"It depends. We try to keep a gender balance."
"I'll pay five hundred dollars if you let me in," said the man in the tux.
Catherine shook her head. "No."
"To you, personally. How much are you getting paid to do this stressful job of telling people what they don't want to hear? Don't you think you should get paid more?"
"You might as well go home now, Sir, and never come back," Catherine said. "Because you're never getting into Incognito. All my needs are taken care of." She grinned impishly. "
All
my needs, if you get my drift." She winked.
"I'd be willing to meet your needs," said a brunette in a little black dress. "Especially if it got me in."
Me too, thought Tonya, even though she didn't usually swing that way.
"Now, you know what I said to the last person who tried to bribe me," said Catherine.
"I meant inside
you
, not the club. I've got a strap-on with me."
Catherine made a show of fanning herself.
The brunette handed her a card. Catherine put it her cleavage.
"What's the maximum occupancy of the club, anyway?" said the man in the tux, who apparently had not given up.
"It's not about the fire code," replied Catherine calmly. "It's about having enough space to move around, and, well, do whatever people want to do. Not everyone inside is, um, vertical, after all."
"Ah but some of the horizontal people are probably stackable," said another man's voice, although she couldn't pick out who. There was nervous laughter. Were people having sex inside, in front of everyone? The rumors said that sort of thing happened. Tonya wanted to see for herself. She could hear noises from inside that sounded like people having a good time, but it was hard to tell exactly over the music.
"Incognito is an exclusive club for discriminating pleasure seekers. It is not a warehouse, and the people inside are not objects. Unless, of course, they want to be. Now, if you choose to wait, that's fine, but there are no guarantees. Guests very rarely leave early."
A man entered the lobby from the club. Everyone turned, hoping that he was leaving. He was a tall athletic man, the kind of man who could blend in anywhere. The only remarkable things about him was that he wore a black mask that covered his lower face, and his steel-gray eyes. He handed Catherine a note and went back inside. People sighed with disappointment when they realized he wasn't leaving.
"Well, hmm," said Catherine, "it seems we might be able to let
one
person in. But there's a rather significant condition."
The man with the tux, who still hadn't gotten the hint, thrust some bills at her.
Catherine took them, and dropped them on the ground. "The main floor is quite full, as are the side rooms. But there's room for one more, providing they are willing to spend the night in the glory hole booth -- at least until someone else wants to, um, serve in that way."
The man with the tux grabbed the money from the floor as fast as he could.
"What," Catherine asked the man. "Don't fancy a night of sucking cock? You weren't getting in, anyway. Go home." She then scanned the crowd. Most, Tonya noticed, were stepping back, including the brunette who'd offered to fuck Catherine with a strap-on.
I can't believe I'm doing this
, thought Tonya, as she stepped forward. "I'll do it," she said, almost inaudibly.
"What's your name?" asked Catherine.
"Tonya."
"Have you ever been to Incognito before, Tonya?"
Tonya shook her head. "No."
"Do you know what a glory hole is?"
Tonya nodded, looking around nervously.
"You're pretty nervous, aren't you?"
"Well," said Tonya, stepping close and dropping her voice, "it's one thing to agree to do that anonymously, and another to admit it in front of everyone here."
