The Club

Principle Characters:

J – me.

C – my wife.

Girth – yes, that’s spelled correctly. Owner of the Club. Not his real name.

Toya – employee of the Club. Keeper of the toys. Because she’s going to ‘toy ya’. Dear Gods, that joke is terrible.

Dawn – another employee of the Club and the closest character I have to a bad guy. In the previous chapter she drugged me and forced me to have sex with her in front of C, in order to break C’s faith in me. Went a bit wrong.

- - -

DAY THREE, ACT ONE – MR. RELIABLE

Three days have passed since we were last in the Club. The unprecedented testicular workout that...that woman...had given me took its toll, and I spend a large part of two days with a bag of frozen peas, using them in ways that Madhur Jaffrey or Tesco never intended. C had looked confused - her weird selective amnesia about remembering the Club and events therein having kicked in. I told her I'd walked into a door. In fact I'd actually been somewhat worried I was never going to get an erection again, that Dawn's pill had permanently damaged me, but then I'd watched as you bent over the sink, reaching for something in the window. I admired your arse, and felt a familiar twitch. At the back of my mind a deep, sonorous voice said "+++ALL ASSIGNED AUTO-REPAIR SYSTEMS ARE NOW COMPLETE. FULL FUNCTION HAS BEEN RESTORED+++"

Yeah, ok, my mind is a weird place at times. Bite me.

I'd phoned Girth to say I was temporarily off the road and we wouldn't be back until further notice, then called him yesterday and told him we'd be back tonight.

And we were.

We arrive, and Girth leads me by the arm to a spot some distance from you so you can’t overhear him. He clearly wants a chat.

“Tonight’s Training is - well, not actually a Training. Also somewhat shorter. Essentially it's going to be something of an apology,” he says. "We genuinely had no idea that Daw.." - he sees me tense - "...er..the last Training session would go the way it did. I'm honestly sorry about that, J.

So tonight's will be something of a making-up-for-mistakes session. I think C will enjoy it. Well, in hindsight. Eventually. Basically, we're going to make her cum. A lot."

I see a guy over in a far corner chatting to Toya. I can't help noticing he's rather lacking in the clothes department. He’s tall, around 6ft-ish. Nicely toned. Mid 30’s I estimate. Skin so black it’s almost blue. And he’s the living embodiment of the “black men are well hung” cliché, because his dick is definitely in the 12” range and perfectly proportioned.

“Wow.” I say. "It doesn't involve him, does it?" I ask, genuinely slightly scared for you.

Girth grins, something clearly amusing him. “Sadly not, he was for another Training. But you'll like this: you know how we generally don’t use our real names here?” he asks.

I nod.

“Guess what we call him.”

I think about this a bit. Despite Girth’s deeply held desire that I never, ever try to name anything again – honestly, do something once – he’s not great in that department either. It’ll be something simple. Something obvious.

I pinch the bridge of my nose as the answer occurs to me.

“Please tell me it’s not ‘Dong’,” I almost plead.

Girth punches the air with delight. “It is!” he says, gleefully. “And do you know why we call him ‘Dong’?”

I look over to him again and stare at the foot-long ebony dick that I'm still not convinced won't be embedded in C later this evening. Judging by the look on Toya's face she'd quite like a go on it herself.

“I can hazard a guess,” I say.

“And you’d be wrong. Well, coincidentally right, sure, but we call him ‘Dong’ because…wait for it…that’s his actual name!”

I blink. “What, seriously?”

“Yep. Clive Dong.”

I stare at Girth. “Has someone cruelly kept the existence of Deed Poll from him?”

Girth laughs. “He likes it. I think that in whatever part of the world his family hailed from originally it’s actually a noble name. And he’s a really nice guy. He’s a joiner.”

“A joiner, eh? So,” I waggle my eyebrows at him, “he knows how to use his tools, then?”

Girth looks at me. “I’m adding ‘jokes’ to the list of things you’re not allowed to do here, J. That was fucking awful.”

“Sorry.”

"You should be. Anyway, yeah. Nice guy. Breeds hamsters in his spare time.”

I yet again look at the 6ft of frankly scary, black male sexuality that is Dong, and try to marry the image with someone who would make cooing noises over a baby rodent. I’m not entirely successful.

“...’kaaaaay,” I say.

"He also has a penchant for Lady Sonia videos".

“Name doesn't ring a bell, sorr…oh, hang on,” I say, because a very faint bell has rung at the back of my mind.

“Give me a sec.” Inside my head, reels of magnetic tape start metaphorically whirring Joe 90 style, as my retrieval systems run up to speed. It takes me a minute - my brain's an older model and it wasn't expecting a test - but it arrives at an answer I’m pretty sure is the right one.

“Made porn in the, what, 80’s? Early 90’s?

Girth nods.

“Did the whole ‘mature white aristocratic lady dominated and used by black guys’ thing?”

Girth nods.

“Big boobs, tight blouse, rocked skirts or jodhpurs? Really annoying voice?”

Girth winces. “Yeah, that’s her, “ he confirms.

"Any reason you're telling me all this?" I ask, well aware that there's been much more unexpected character detail and much less fucking-of-my-wife than there normally is at this point in the narrative.

Girth looks embarrassed, which I'm pretty sure is an uncommon calendar event.

"Truth be told we weren't quite ready for you. The previous Training session unexpectedly overran. Considerably. The woman's Training 'took' and you never, ever, interrupt that. It's an extremely singular event. C will eventually have her moment, when her Training 'takes', and then you'll understand. The lass became extremely enthusiastic. Basically exhausted our on-site supply of DOLs."

"Dolls? Er...what?" I ask.

"Not 'dolls' - DOL's. 'Dicks On Legs'" Girth explains. "But we have an arrangement with another outfit like ours, which generally caters to women Clients and male Trainees..."

"Is it called 'Peggers'?" I ask brightly.

"J! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT NAMING THINGS?!" Girth roars, clearly annoyed.

I shuffle my feet. "Sorry," I mutter, slightly put out.

"Of course it's not called 'Peggars'! Fucksake, J! Although...ok, admittedly that's what we call them. But it's not their actual name. You daft twat."

"So, I win then? I WIN! I WIN! I WIN!" I exclaim.

"J, mate, can I remind you that you're 57, not 14?"

"You can try," I say, "but I should warn you that the success rate of people attempting that is extremely low."

"Anyway, " Girth says, clearly seeing some sort of signal given, "let's get this show on the road."

You're lead, struggling, into another room by a couple of men. The only item in this room is a padded, 'Y'-shaped bench. One of the men unceremoniously reaches under your skirt and drags your panties down, making you struggle even harder and emit a cry of shock and shame. He unhooks them from one leg, but then pulls them back up the other so you're wearing them like a garter. You are forced down onto the bench, your legs spread and then bound to it. Your hands are tied under it. Your blouse is torn open, your bra dragged down, displaying your breasts to the room. You skirt is dragged up. Not a single item of clothing has been removed, yet you are left exposed and vulnerable in ways simple nakedness couldn't remotely approach.

You look incredible.

One final detail - a blindfold - is applied, and the men step back, admiring the view. I can't blame them. It's taking a significant effort of will not to lower my jeans and bury myself in you, but Rule 5 says I can't.

Toya enters the room. She's holding something.

"Oh, a sports massager," I say.

"A what now?" Girth asks, clearly confused.

"A sports massager," I reply. "They're wonderful on your back."

Girth looks at me. "J, mate, despite the hair I had you down as being a fairly bright bloke..."

...that was uncalled-for, I think, slightly hurt...

"...but let me tell you that although they're sold under that description, no woman in the recorded history of ever has used one for just that. They are, quite simply, the single most potent and reliable orgasm-inducer ever manufactured."

He turns and looks at the camera, significantly.

Toya kneels between your legs and gives your slit a long, slow lick. I see your hips rise in shocked, unexpected pleasure, but Toya is just teasing you. She ties the vibrator to your leg so that the head of it is firmly touching the top of your slit. Directly over your clit, I realise.

Toya smiles down at you in an affectionate way, and switches it on.

Its effect on you is, frankly, electric. I hear you gasp, and I know that under the blindfold your eyes are open wide in shock. You shake your head side to side and I hear you say "No!", desperately.

"She'll resist it at first," Girth says, "but trust me: she'll lose. They always do. The longest any woman at the Club has ever held out against Mr. Reliable there was 4 minutes and 37 seconds."

He looks at you, thrashing on the bench.

"Don't think C is going to come close to that, no pun intended." he says. "Deep down she's thoroughly loving every second of this even though she can't yet admit it to herself."

He's right. I can clearly see you getting very, very wet.

Your head thrashes again, your hips rise, trying to grind against the toy, and you scream "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!" as a strong contender for the most reluctant orgasm in human history tears through you.

"2 minutes, 12 seconds," Girth says, professionally.

You pant, and I see your hands are clenched.

"Nnnnnn....no...I....aah...ohgods....nnnnnNNNNGYAAAAAA!" you wail, a second orgasm taking you by surprise. The bench is getting drenched.

You scream again as a third orgasm, almost immediately followed by a fourth, rips through you. Your hips are desperately trying to grind against the toy again but as your hips move so does the toy and your efforts are in vain.

And then Toya starts licking you again.

You climax against her mouth, hips writhing. And then you climax again. And again. And again. Over the next several minutes you are repeatedly brought to orgasm by the toy and Toya's tender ministrations, making music that should be called "Orgasms In C Major".

This is, quite simply, the most erotic thing I've ever seen in my entire life. Girth recognizes this. "When the Club apologizes, " he says, having to raise his voice slightly to make himself heard over your ongoing pleasure, "we don't do it by halves."

Toya switches the vibrator off - too much of a good thing, etc. - but for the next 20 minutes or so continues to use all her skill to keep you climaxing roughly once every four or five minutes. She is tender, loving, dedicated to pleasing you. A stark contrast, I think, to the two other occasions when she fucked you savagely.

Complex woman, Toya.

"J," Girth says, softly. "I want you to do something for me. And I don't want you to ask daft questions like the really annoying fanny you sometimes are."

This sounds ominous, I think. Also, tad harsh.

"Fuck her, J. Fuck C. You clearly want to. And she wants you to. Trust me on this."

Rule 5* really is more of a guideline than a rule, I think to myself as I shed my clothes rapidly, and for once in my life don't try to question reality.

I position myself, look down at you, and realise you're crying. And I know it's with pleasure, not anything bad. A tear runs down my own cheek, because I love you so much and you've earned and deserved this evening of pleasure.

I gently glide into you, and your back arches as you cum on me. Wasn't expecting that, if I'm honest. You're still a bit hypersensitive it seems. Not that I'm complaining.

"OHGODSYESFUCKMEPLEASE!!" you scream. Some part of me is vaguely aware that you don't actually know the cock knowing you is mine, but some other part of me knows full well that you do. I build a rhythm swiftly, knowing I'm not going to last long. I watch as you cum again and I nearly sob in joy, then feel my own oncoming climax pass the point of no return. I try to do the best I can with the time remaining, but seconds later my own orgasm arrives, rocking me to my core. It comes up from my toes, I swear, and I'm dimly aware of your own, final climax as you tighten deliciously around me, moaning in pleasure.

Toya removes your blindfold and your wrist ties, and you see the person in you is me. You sob uncontrollably. I fall across you, hug you hard, feeling you hug me back, and my own tears join yours.

"Honestly, it's like X-rated Mills & Boon in here," says Girth, in fake exasperation. "Right pair of fannies, the pair of you."

END OF DAY THREE

* Rule 5 states that I am the only person in the Club that can't fuck you.