Tales from the Club: Bought to Pop a Cherry
This is an episode from happenings at the very exclusive New Xanadu sex club. John is the main character of the club's back-stories, which are set out in the 12-part series New Xanadu. Jill makes a brief appearance in Tales From the Club: Susan's Reboot. You don't need to read the back-stories to appreciate what's going on here; but if you like this one, you'll probably like what came before.
Please remember to vote; and comments are really appreciated. If you have an idea for a scenario that you'd like to see played out at New Xanadu, I'd love to hear that, too.
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As New Xanadu approached the end of our second year of operation, the partners decided that we wanted to do something special for our staff. As a practical matter, we couldn't offer them sex - they were already getting all the sex that they wanted as a tax-free fringe benefit of working for us - which meant it would have to come down to money. And since we kept spending every cent we took in to make the club better, money was something we were always short of,.
None of us, even Mary and Susan who would not have felt it, wanted to dig into our own pockets. So, for lack of any other ideas, we settled on an old fashioned slave auction of some of the partners. Mary was out because of our deal with her dad to keep her ownership status buried, and Susan declined on the ground that her status as chatelaine of the club might be diminished if she was sold for sport. Matthew begged off for unexplained reasons of his own and, sadly, Thomas's sons, who would have been excellent cougar bait, were at college out of town.
That left Martha and Joan as the female sex slaves, providing bidders a choice of a fit mid-20s, and a voluptuous mid-40s. The guys to be sold would be Thomas, about 50, short dark and built like a brick; James, about the same age, tall, fit and capable of being very debonair looking when allowed to wear clothes; and me, now just north of 30, also tall if not particularly fit and definitely not debonair.
On the night of the auction, we had a crowd of about 200 people, thin for a Friday, but the early December weather had been miserable enough to discourage a lot of people from driving. At 7:30 Joan took the stand we'd set up in Union Station to announce the terms of the sale. The "slaves" would be at the disposal of their buyers: from 8 until closing at 2 am. Buyers could be a single person, a couple, or a group of not more than three people. They could retain sole use of their slave or allow others to share them. Slaves were either bi-, in the case of the women, or straight in the case of the males. Buyers were responsible to insure that slaves were not abused beyond the normal limits of what we tolerated in our Dungeon rooms. Payment was to be made by cash or IOU immediately after purchase, with any notes to be covered within 24 hours. Since all proceeds were for the staff, buyers were encouraged to to be generous, and to overlook the possibility that their slave might put out for free on other nights.
With that the sale began. James was offered first, and fetched $1000 from a plump young woman who I guessed might have a Daddy fetish. She claimed her prize by reaching under his tunic, grabbing his cock and leading him from the room.
Next Martha was bought by a consortium of three middle-aged men, for $1500. These guys' claiming ritual had her taking each of their cocks in her mouth for a quick suck before being led off. I could envision her being airtight within the next few minutes.
Then Thomas brought $1200 from a middle aged couple. Since he was sold as straight, I had to assume that the man was there to watch his wife as she played. This was confirmed when she had Thomas drop to his knees and bury his head in her snatch before she led him away, meekly followed by her husband.
Joan was sold, after spirited bidding from another male consortium, for $1800 to one of our Premier members and his new trophy wife half his age. From long experience I knew that while Joan definitely preferred cock, she had spent enough time in bed with Martha, Mary and Salome to establish her bi- credentials. This was good, because the trophy wife immediately pushed Joan down on her knees and spread her legs to give Joan access to lick a freshly-shaved mound.
Finally, I was standing on the block in our standard "slave" costume - the short tunic designed to be so easy to take off, with nothing under it. It was all turning out to be good fun, I thought, moving toward an evening of even more fun. As the bidding passed $800, my ego was hoping to score higher than the other guys, when a new bidder entered the picture. I had seen my Mom at the club many times by now. She and my Dad had been among our first members. But beyond watching her as she feasted on cock in our Union Station room, I had studiously avoided all contact with her. When she stepped toward the front of the crowd and said "Eleven hundred," my cock shriveled.
I looked around wildly, searching for a way out of this looming disaster. To my relief, another woman who I recognized as Jill, another very early member in her 40s who had actually had my cock I her mouth one memorable evening, came forward with a $1200 bid. Mom turned to look at who was bidding against her. Sensing that they were likely to get caught in a crossfire, the three previous bidders dropped their hands and stood waiting to see what would happen next. After a few seconds thought, Mom turned back to the front and said "1300, and Jill promptly said "1400, and that's my last offer."
My heart skipped a beat when Mom, with a big smile on her face, quickly followed with "1500." I had no idea what I was going to do. We'd gone to great lengths to keep things squeaky legal in the club, and last I heard incest, at whatever age, was still illegal in Illinois. I can't say that sex with my mother had never crossed my mind, and I didn't know whether anybody in recent memory had been prosecuted for it, but I didn't think that having sex with Mom was something that I bring myself could to do here.
However, before Joan could declare the auction over, a new voice said, "Wait a minute." I looked over to the door between the lounge and Union Station and saw a very a young woman, clothed in a fluffy robe and white mask standing next to Susan. After a brief whispered discussion with the girl, Susan raised the girl's arm, and the girl held up two fingers. Seeing that, Jill said "1700" as she turned to glare at Mom. After what seemed like an hour Mom just gave me a little smile, shrugged her shoulders, and turned away.
Joan scanned the room, asked if there were any more bids and, getting none, declared the sale over. When my savior and new owner reached the stage, she merely took my hand and walked me over to the young woman and Susan. She placed my hand in the hand of the younger one, then took my other hand and led us all into the lounge. There she got Ron to make a pitcher of Margaritas and, handing these and two glasses to the young woman and me, said "Let's go find us a quiet room upstairs." Normally we don't allow food and drink to leave the lounge area, but before Ron could say anything Susan gave him a look and he decided he should let it go this time. Passing over a couple of bar towels he said, "Here, please use these to cover things up and try to save me having to answer questions from the other members."
My new "owner" took the door to the lounge that led to the office, where she signed a chit for $1700. Then rather than turning toward the elevator to the second floor bedrooms, she turned right and walked us to the new elevator that went to the attic, which at that time had some very basic beds for the staff and Joan's private apartment. I said, "You know this elevator is key-operated and that members are not allowed up in the attic, don't you?"
Jill dangled an elevator key in front of me and said, "Yes, I do. Let's assume that I know people, shall we." There was not much I could say to that - Susan's key spoke much louder than words.
The elevator came and nobody talked until we were inside Joan's apartment. Once inside, my owner guided us into Joan's bedroom, then turned to me and said, "Now that we're all here snug and private, you may call me Jill. My young friend here is Rebecca, and I don't want to call you 'slave,' so what shall we call you"
