Hole 3

The course was designed by a seasoned tour professional, renowned for his long hitting and clever approach shots. The fairways were cast upon acres and acres of lush greenery, breathtaking scenes, dense hazards, ample water and eighteen holes of pristinely manicured landscaping. A golfer's dream.

The course was only available to members and almost impossible to gain access too. The common man and public could only dream of stepping foot on the sacred greens. Membership alone was nearing $100,000 per year and only the very successful ever played at the illustrious and private course.

Naturally, such a price had its perks and there were many rumours surrounding those who carried membership. The course was shrewd in its secrecy and a haven for the rich and famous. It was also almost exclusively for men with only a handful of women ever known to have graced the course.

Emma had two hobbies, golf and investigative journalism. Both hobbies had often led her longing to get inside the walls of the club and experience all the course had to offer, for better or worse. The only issue was that you had to be recommended by a current member who would take you on a round but only once you paid the 10% deposit. That meant almost $10,000 would need to be spent just to access the course for a single round. As much as she loved the sport, that kind of money was out of her reach.

Emma had begged her boss at the local newspaper to give her the funds to complete the round and get an inside view of what the club offered. 'I know they are hiding something in there.' She had pleaded. 'I just need a chance to expose them. The story could be huge!'

Her pleading had mostly fallen on deaf ears but out of the blue, he had accepted and, in doing so, had completely taken her by surprise when he had made a startling admission. 'The owner has expressed a desire to have more women at the club and they have a few openings, I can take you for a round and they will waive the deposit.'

'What about being escorted by a member?' She had asked with her excitement peaking.

'I am a member.' He had confided, causing her jaw to drop. 'I'll take you on a round this Sunday and you'll be given the full tour, the whole package. You'll be treated like a member for the day and you'll see all it has to offer.' He stared at her, enjoying her reaction and uncontained excitement. 'And I'm told they are so keen to have a few more females that you'll be given a way to join the club, free of charge.'

'Free of charge!?' she exclaimed. '$100,000 off? They must be really keen for more women!'

'You in or not?'

'Does a bear shit in the woods?'

'Meet me here on Sunday at 8am.'

With that Emma was sent back to work, a skip in her step as the delirium of the occasion echoed through her body. She could hardly wait.

The day dragged as did the week, but she practically bounded out of bed when her alarm sounded Sunday morning.

She arrived at the meeting point at 7.30am, parking her old sedan in the empty garage. No one worked on a Sunday and she had her pick of the parking spots, choosing to stop near where her bosses often parked. She jumped out the car, nervous energy pulsating through her. Emma grabbed her clubs and waited.

At exactly 8am, a rather expensive and unfamiliar sports car rolled to a stop beside her. Two men were inside, and she recognised one to be her boss who gradually got out the car to meet her. The other man was introduced as the owner of the course and handshakes were conducted. The owner, Drew, looked over her intently, taking in her long blonde hair, light blue shirt and short white skirt that had a faint pink outline down the seams. Apparently, he approved and motioned her to get into the car.

Emma had grabbed her clubs, but Drew had raised a hand in protest. 'You won't be needing those dear, he smiled, handing her the car keys. Today, you're getting the whole membership package which includes a brand-new set of clubs and a car. You'll be member 167, hence the licence plate.'

Emma stared in disbelief at both men and took notice of the plate which simply had the number 167 on it. No more. No less. Emma wondered at its legality which caused the journalist inside her to twitch, however, the golfer inside of her was far more interested at this point and she eagerly grabbed the keys. She had never driven a sports car before and the engine purred as she pressed down on the accelerator.

Twenty minutes later and perhaps taking a slightly longer route than required, she manoeuvred the vehicle down a long drive, past the security gates and into the private surrounds. Taking in the scenery for the first time and gasping at the affluent grounds, she parked the car beside a row of similar vehicles. Looking at the licence plates she concluded she had parked between members 117 and 142. There were approximately 30 other sports cars within the parking spaces, all with personalized number plates.

Three motorized carts immediate appeared and Emma became aware she would have her own transport for the round. The cart was far from the usual golf attire and was decked with gold, leather seats, wine cooler, radio and numerous other features. Her cart was the only one that held a set of clubs and she marvelled over the brand-new set, a popular brand and seemingly tailor made for her. On closer inspection, she saw 167 had been etched into both the cart and every club within her set.

As she marvelled at the attire, she noticed Drew and her boss in discussion before the owner approached her.

'Emma, love, we are quite keen to have more females at our club, but we only offer our membership to the very best. I'm willing to place a wager with you, if you beat me today, you can join for free. Right here. Today.'

'Oh wow!' Emma was ecstatic at the opportunity. 'Thank you! But you mentioned a wager? What happens if I lose?'

'You'll be given a chance to meet some of our other members and given a second chance.'

'So, if I win, I'm in and If I lose, I still get another shot?' Emma asked inquisitively.

'Correct. Shall we start?' Drew asked, motioning towards the sign with 'Hole One, 457m, Par 4' written upon it.

'Absolutely!' Emma shrieked.

For the most part, Emma was an exceptional golfer and she had entered many tournaments previously. She was confident in her ability but soon fell behind both men, their accuracy and power lending for several better positions on the long, expansive course. Unperturbed, she took in the course management, astounded by the beauty of the course and the immaculate upkeep.

Everywhere she looked, screamed wealth. The paths were marble, and the signage all laced in gold, there was not a stone or leaf out of place and the clubhouse towered in the background, the three-story building etched in stone and not unbecoming of a castle. Emma was in love and enjoyed every shot, even as she slowly lost ground on the two men.

By the last hole, Emma was seven shots behind her boss and nine shots behind Drew. As she stood on the green, about to make a simple foot-long putt it dawned to her that this might be the last shot she ever makes on such a course. She felt an insatiable sadness in her stomach as the little ball rolled toward the hole, a ting emanating as it found its target and sunk beneath the ground.

'Well played, you were a couple under par there, impressive.' Drew smiled.

'Thanks. I really enjoyed it. You had me beat pretty early, but you mentioned a second chance?'

'Yes, I did, didn't I.' He admitted. 'However, I'm not really sure it's for you. Perhaps it's time we return you to your car.' He looked over at her boss who merely shrugged in reply.

'I'd really appreciate the opportunity.' She said, pleadingly.

'Well, you see dear, the girls at the club are expected to be exceptional and while you are certainly better than the average player, you'd have to benefit the club in other ways to maintain a membership here.'

'Other ways?'

'Yes, only about 5% of our members are females and they tend to work here. You know, when they are not playing.'

'I think this would be an amazing place to work!' Emma exclaimed before realising she was within earshot of her current boss. 'You know if it were possible and everyone agreed.'

'Well, it would only be once a week, on a Sunday actually.' Drew said. 'I'm sure that will be okay with you?' He looked at her boss. 'She doesn't work weekends currently?'

Emma's excitement grew as she watched her boss nod in agreement. Work once a week to earn membership to an exclusive $100,000 per year club? This was too good to be true! What would she be expected to do? Did it matter? She'd do anything!

'Well, I guess we could give her the afternoon to trial.' Drew said, looking at her. 'Thing is, I don't know if you're the right fit.'

Emma sensed her opportunity being taken away. 'I'd love to give it a go. I'm happy to do anything.'

'Anything?' Drew asked, cautiously.

Emma nodded her head in agreement, a little unease sweeping through her in the way he spoke that single word but still, she wanted that membership more than anything. Also, she felt a need to inspect further with her boss on hand and having given her the opportunity to investigate. She needed to know what else was here. What was the story?

'Follow me.' Drew said, getting into his cart. 'Let's see if she's good to her word.'

Emma followed the motorized buggies as they raced towards the clubhouse. Once parked, Drew came over to her and ushered her forward through the glass sliding doors. The clubhouse resembled a palace with an internal waterfall and an almost obscene amount of gold, silver and crystal. Emma's mind boggled at the cost of building such an entrance, however, she was quickly escorted from the foyer and into a side door. Drew sat her down on a wooden seat inside a room that appeared to be a locker room yet was carpeted and abounded in wealth.

'Well, Emma.' Drew started. 'This is your second chance draw. Behind me are several small rooms, you'll see 167 has been sketched upon one of the doors. That is your room. You'll find it adjoins several other of our member's rooms and, if you wish to join our club, all we ask is that you keep our members happy.' He paused. 'The role I'm offering you is to work a full Sunday, every Sunday, within your designated room.'

'And what do I need to do within the room?' Emma asked, suspiciously.

'Whatever is required.' Drew answered, cryptically. 'Should we give it a go?'

'I'm not really sure what I need to do?' Emma replied.

'You can leave now if you prefer?'

'Will I be alone in the room?'

'Yes.'

'I'll be alone in the room every Sunday?

'Yes.'

'How do I keep your members happy?'

'Would you like to give it a go or would you rather finish the tour here?' Drew asked. 'I really need an answer.'

Emma's mind raced with possibilities but casting her mind back over the 18 holes she had just played and the overall celebrity experience, she couldn't bring herself to leave. Not yet. 'Okay.' She said meekly.

Drew led her towards the back rooms and opened the door marked 167. Emma peered inside and was surprised to see a quaint cubicle, padded seats lined the outer walls and there was a desk, tv and couch centrally. Drew motioned for her to enter and remarked; 'We'll give you an hour and see how you go.' She stepped inside, and the door closed behind her.

Emma took in her surroundings and made a bee-line for the couch. What exactly did they want her to do? She looked over the desk for instruction but there was nothing written. She sat on the couch and glanced around the room. Odd that all the furniture was in the middle, why was there padded seating around the whole perimeter? The shower and locker at the far end were the only resemblances of a typical locker room. Weird.

It took only a minute for her to have her answer. As she searched for the television remote a soft sliding of wood caught her ear and following the noise, she realised a small hole had appeared in the right-hand wall. Inquisitive, she approached and kneeling upon the padded seating, casually looked through the hole.

The room she peered into was similar to her own. Emma could clearly make out the shower and locker at the far end, and something appeared written on the far wall. Emma Leaned in closer to attempt to read the print, irked and mystified at the whole experience. Squinting, she could make out the writing. "Keep the members happy and keep your 167 membership. You have one hour." Besides the writing, a clock with huge illuminated numbers beamed 60 minutes and zero seconds. As she stared, the clock moved and 60 became 59.59 and it began its descent, the seconds quickly falling by.

Emma read it twice and pondered its meaning before hearing a now familiar sound. Wood being slid open. She surveyed the room and was shocked to see a large semi-erect penis protruding through the wall. On it, a single piece of paper hung via a thin thread.

Emma stared in horror at the intruder. It certainly wasn't the first she'd seen but never in this kind of circumstance. She stared at the paper before curiosity got the better of her and she crept over towards it.

The meat flinched as she reached out and tugged the thread, the piece of paper coming off and resting in her palm. The paper had only one word scribbled upon it, in what was clearly a gentleman's hand-writing. It simply said, "hands".

Emma watched in a weird sense of fascination as the penis began to stir and rise a little in anticipation. She marvelled as it grew, eventually stretching out and resulting in seven inches of thick meat protruding into her locker room. She read the note again and it dawned on her that she would be required to please this member with a hand job.

"Please the members." She thought, realising that Drews words may not have been referring to those who played at the course but rather the projection between their legs.

Emma thought back to the round she had played, the feeling of rejoicing of new clubs, the thrill of the ride and the car that awaited her if she survived the hour. "Ah, to hell with it." She thought and grabbed the erection between her fingers.

It was an odd sensation to her, feeling his pulsations through her hand but having no other contact with him. Her lovemaking was often sensual and erotic while this felt strange. She grasped his member firmly and slowly ran her hand back and forth, increasing her rhythm incrementally until she felt his erection start to shake. She kept her hand moving up and down his shaft as it tensed in her hand and gushed a sticky white liquid over her fingers and down the padded seats. As she eased her rubbing motion, the package withdrew, and she was left with a sticky mess upon her fingertips.

Emma walked over to the shower and used the sink. A soap dispenser had been installed and she washed her hands thoroughly. What would her boss think about this? Her thoughts were scattered and wild, recollecting what she had just endured and the eeriness of it all. Rumours had abounded for years on the practices between the course walls, but this was a little unsettling and completely unexpected.

Another sliding in the wall interrupted her thoughts and she stared as another lump of veiny meat poked through the wall. Again, a thread with a tiny piece of paper hung from his shaft, already erect and glistening in anticipation. This member was thicker and longer than the last, almost nine inches and was up there with the largest Emma had encountered. She took the note and read the single word upon it; "Mouth".

Emma knelt on the padded cushions and stared at the cock before her. It was long and firm and bent on an upward trajectory. She found that she wanted to taste it, that it almost beckoned her. In a weird trance, she put her lips on the tip and felt it flinch to her touch. Slowly she licked the lip then ran her tongue along the entire shaft, lubricating the skin and causing it to shimmer in the locker room lights. She placed her lips around the shaft and pressed them tight around the head, her tongue flicking over the tip.

Gently she pushed forward, taking inch by inch into her mouth and agonisingly negotiating her way down his shaft. After a few inches, she paused, savouring his taste and using her tongue to run circles over the firmness. It completely took her by surprise when after only a minute of teasing, it erupted within her mouth, discharging a wave of fluid straight down her throat and causing her to gag in surprise. She pulled back a little but kept her mouth upon him as he shuddered and spat at her, her tongue pooling his release. Without a word, the erection disappeared back into the wall and the opening slid shut. Emma swallowed and sat there blinking in astonishment.

A minute or two passed without incident and Emma waited expectantly for the sound of wood sliding open. She noticed the original hole in the wall was still there and drew her eye alongside to peek inside. The clock was still moving, 46.47 upon its digital dial.

A sound she was now accustomed too caused her to turn her head, only a meter away, another package poked through the wall. This one hung limp, barely protruding, with the note hanging lose.

Emma walked over and saw this one had written "Hands". She almost felt disappointed as she grabbed it between her fingers. A few tugs and gentle persuasion as the member started to swell, eventually, it peaked, and Emma had just about a handful to work with. She began to stroke the ridged swelling when another opening appeared right in front of her.

The second intrusion was much more impressive, already erect and standing proud. Emma could read the note without taking the piece of paper off and she instinctively put her lips around the shaft.

She now had her right hand manoeuvring up and down a skinny four-inch phallus while her lips pushed down hungrily over the larger erection. Her nose touched the wall as she took him within her throat, resisting the urge to gag and trying to ensure she kept a moderate pace with her preoccupied right hand.

Emma had never entertained two men at once and the scenario seemed unreal, a dream, she worked on both strangers, completely unaware of any of their features. Were they old? Young? Masculine? Tall? Handsome? She had no idea, but the uncanny scene had her heart racing and her body was beginning to react. With her free left hand, she almost unwilling reached between her legs, surprised at how damp her underwear had become.

The member in her right hand suddenly spluttered and a drool of cum escaped, wetting her fingers. It disappeared before she even realised it was over. With only the sole cock to occupy her attention, she sucked deeply, her lips sealing around his shaft in a vice-like grip. With enthusiasm she bobbed her head back and forth, all the while her fingers played with her own body, delicately rubbing and flicking at her own sensitive button. She had her nose pressed against the wall, her tongue flicking over the engorged meat between her lips when her body began to shake. She held the pose, taking in as much as she could, the tip of his erection bulging her throat as her own legs quivered and trembled. She was still shaking when she felt the shaft between her tips tense.

Emma made the mistake of withdrawing her lips to watch the erection shake and she felt the salty fluid splash across her cheek and down her chin. Impulsively, she clutched her lips around the pulsating meat and felt as drop by drop entered her throat. She swallowed hungrily, savouring the taste. The man kept his manhood protruding through the wall and Emma continued to lick and savour every drop, eventually, the well ran dry and after a minute or two, he clearly couldn't stand it any longer and the little door slid shut, his erection disappearing.