Literotic asexstories – Joining the Club by NotHemingway,NotHemingway
Nervousness radiated from her, as she waited for it to happen. She knew it would; it was why she was there. She would be taken and used by a stranger. Not injured, but beyond that sole constraint, the manner, the timing, the assertiveness with which it happened, was unknown. And most of all, the biggest unknown, by whom? It was a private club and she had agreed to come at her boyfriend’s repeated urgings. Every new female entrant into the club had to be initiated. She understood that. But the boyfriend had separated from her. By rule, he could not be the one to initiate her. So, she eyed the other men, as they eyed her. One of the men would win, would purchase, the right to take her.
She was dressed smartly in a stylish black dress, off the shoulder, which emphasized her features. It barely rose to cover the breasts. The fabric clung to her rounded figure. She was beautiful, tall, 5’9″, with long brown hair and blue eyes. Young looking, with an innocent appearance befitting someone even younger than her 20 years.
Anne got a drink at the bar and walked around the room. Men, many with woman at their side, watched her. Everyone knew she was the new one. People smiled at her; a few of the less sophisticated, grinned knowingly. Anne was approached by an attractive gentleman, probably in his 40s. He was the first one to speak to her.
“Welcome to the club. I hope you’re making yourself at home,” he said.
“I am, although to be honest, I’m a little nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Never done anything like what, before?” he asked.
Anne was flustered. The initiation ritual had been explained to her. Surely he must know?
“The initiation,” she said. “This is my first time at the club.”
“Ah, yes. That thing. I’m told many women enjoy it. Isn’t it every woman’s fantasy to be ravished by some tall, dark and handsome villain?”
“No, it isn’t. Women want to choose their partners. I do like sex, but I agreed to come here just to please my boyfriend. Being taken by some stranger is not my fantasy. I hope I didn’t make a mistake.”
“So what is your fantasy, then,” he asked.
“I’m not sure I have one. That’s one of the reasons Brad, my boyfriend, wanted me to join. He says I’m too conventional. That I need to explore my sexuality.”
“Well,” the gentleman replied, “this is the place to do that. Most anything is allowed here. Have you ever tried bondage?”
“Oh my, no,” Anne said. “I’d be so embarrassed to be tied up and exposed.”
“It’s only bad if your thinking makes it so. We have members here who are quite stimulated by it, and I’m including the women in that. Sometimes the men are the ones being bound by their lady friends.”
“I guess women’s lib has reached into private clubs too,” Anne said with a smile.
“Indeed it has. Let me show you the other rooms of the club. Each one is designed to facilitate a particular fetish.”
He took her arm and guided her to an elevator. They entered, and he pressed for the fourth floor.
“So, what is on the fourth floor?” Anne asked.
“You’ll see soon enough,” he answered. When the elevator reached 4, the doors opened. Suddenly, another man rushed in and pinned Anne against the elevator wall. He yanked at her dress, ripping it down from her chest, exposing the bra.
“I am the lucky man who will initiate you tonight,” the gentleman told her. “You went for a high price, deserving of your beauty. But the bidding went so high, I had to join forces with my friend here. The two of us will entertain you.”
They dragged Anne out of the elevator, she initially being too stunned to speak. The fourth floor had hooks on the walls and in the ceiling. Ropes and devices of various sizes hung against the wall.
“Oh my God,” she said. “I don’t want this.”
“It’s too late dear, but I guarantee this will be a night of pleasure.”
A hand unzipped the dress in the back and pulled it the rest of the way down to her waist. Her hands were fastened to velvet covered restraints, with ropes attached to the hook in the ceiling. Her arms were hoisted high.
The men apprised her. The breasts peaked over the bra, the nipples slightly visible through the frilly lace of the bra.
“Beautiful,” the gentleman said.
“Agreed,” said the other man, “but I need a better look.”
He reached behind her and unclasped the bra. With a scissors, he cut the straps. The bra fell to the floor. Those rounded, firm breasts the size of plump peaches, were exposed. The man felt them and pronounced himself well satisfied.
The gentleman went to her and began kissing her neck, while slowly feeling her sides and chest. He grabbed her by the buttocks and pulled her against his front. She could feel his arousal.
The second man, meanwhile, was removing Anne’s shoes. He reached under the dress and pulled down her pantyhose.
“I wasn’t told there would be two of you,” Anne protested. “I wasn’t told there would be ropes.”
“You can file a complaint with management when this is over,” smirked the man. “You are ours.”
The gentleman slid her dress to the floor. She hung there, naked now but for a small snug thong panty that did little to conceal her mound and labia.
The man went behind her, and explored her stomach and abdomen. He slid his hands down her thighs, caressing the flesh, teasingly close to the heart of her womanhood. He nuzzled the back of her neck.
Anne began to breath heavily from the sensitive skin being touched.
The gentleman, meanwhile, licked, fondled and sucked on her breasts.
Anne had had sex before, or course, but never two men at once. Never multiple areas of pleasure being probed by four hands and two mouths. And never so exposed, so helpless.
Against her will, she began to succumb to the sensations. She moaned quietly. Then the last bastion was breached. Hands rubbed her vulva through the thin fabric of the thong. She was wet from the excitement, even the fear, and the man’s fingers slid smoothly over the most sensitive flesh. Then, with a yank, the panty was pulled free. Now she clung from the rope, naked and fully exposed.
“What do you want us to do,” the gentleman asked.
“Let me go!”
“You really don’t want that. The moisture dripping from your vagina betrays you. What do you want us to do?”
“You have me helpless. I can’t stop you. Do what you want.” It was not clear if this was resignation or desire.
The gentleman slid his finger into the vagina, seeking out the clitoris. Rubbing in circles, he excited that sensitive skin.
Anne began to whimper. She didn’t want to be excited, but to her surprise, the thrill of helplessness and exposure, coupled with the gentle manipulation of her sex, pounded inside her. Maybe she did want this?
The gentleman slid off his trousers and underwear, releasing his penis. He pressed it against her vulva, not entering her, just teasing that sensitive flesh. Then he grabbed her backside, pulled her toward him and entered her. And thrust deep into her flesh, pounding into her.
Then he slid a finger into her anus, slowly at first, then deeper. She cried out and bucked her body against him. It was a guttural cry, from deep within her soul. Both of them orgasmed, one after the other.
Then he withdrew from her.
Anne hung limp from the ropes. Her nude body slid side to side, as the sexual tension drained from her.
The gentleman spoke. “I have a surprise for her. Your boyfriend Brad advised us what to do. He was sure you had this desire locked within you. He’s in the next room. He’s been watching.”
The restraints were loosened, and Anne fell free to the floor. Brad entered and lay with her.
He spoke. “Baby, this is the beginning. The beginning of a life filled with sexual pleasure.”
They returned to the club many times after that, exploring the other fetish rooms. And witnessing the initiation of other first-time women. Once they purchased the right to initiate. Anne soothed the nerves of the new woman, assuring her that she would soon thrill to sex freed from convention. And so it was.
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