Tales from the Club: “Schoolgirls”

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Tales from the Club: The Night of the “Schoolgirls”

By the end of our first year in operation New Xanadu had signed up 120 couples, almost 100 single females and just over 100 single males. We had had quite a debate within the partnership group about the mix of singles. Not surprisingly, the guys in the group wanted to make it easy for single women to join, and to make it very difficult for single men (other than ourselves, of course). The women in the group said that this was typical male chauvinist piggishness, and pointed out that they, and by extension women in general, enjoyed variety as much as guys did. Words like “harem” and “roosters in a barn yard” were thrown around with enough force to get us guys to accept rough parity.

We guys were able to get a slight break to make the annual membership fee more attractive for the women, based on the feminist argument that since women made only about 80% as much as males, they should pay only 80% of what males paid. We tried for an even bigger reduction on the nightly admission fee based on the argument that, being on average smaller, women ate and drank less than guys, but the women partners called bullshit and drew the line at 80%. What all of this worked out to was that couples paid $2500 a year for a regular membership, single guys paid $1400 and single women $1100, with nightly admission fees of $50 for males and $40 for females.

When Mary, Martha, Susan (yes, she had joined us; but that is another story) and Joan did a little informal “market research” among the single women over drinks in the lounge they found that the word had gotten out that ours was a great place for safe and discreet casual sex — just what we had wanted for ourselves — with more up-scale people and fewer, as several women had put it, “creeps.” In a nutshell, the research that we put in to screening our applicants had made hookups at New Xanadu a much safer bet than anything they could do on their own, and thus worth the price of being a member.

When Matthew, Thomas, James and I did similar market research among the single males, the best we could get was that New Xanadu was seen as a great place to fuck classy broads without having to worry about getting the clap. Guys really are simple minded when their little head is calling the shots.

We had also signed up 4 Premier members, 3 local and 1, via James’s SNCTM contacts, from California. One of the perks of our $10,000 Premier Membership at New Xanadu was that up to 4 times a year the Premier Member could request a private party of his or her choosing on a weeknight when we were normally closed. They could bring their own guests or they could have us invite people from our regular membership, or a mix of both. They would have to pay $50 per invitee to cover our costs for food, drinks and clean-up, and any of their guests who were not already a member would first have to pass our background and STI checks. If the Premier Member specified it, these private parties, unlike our public sessions, could be maskless.

We had been open a little over a year when we got a request for one of these parties. The guy from L.A. was a wheel in the movie business (mainstream, not skin flicks as it happens) and he said he wanted to “Look at some local talent, maybe find a fresh face that I could use in my pictures.” Maybe he was even telling the truth; whatever. But his background had checked out, so as long as it made him happy enough to renew each year we were happy to accommodate him.

Since he was looking for local talent at a one night party booked for himself and 2 personal guests, he requested that we have eight would-be starlets for them to “look over.” He specified women aged 21 to 25, hair color and precise dimensions unimportant as long as they were fit, well-proportioned and willing to go “the extra mile” sexually. He insisted that classic model facial beauty was not as important as features that were “provocative.” As a sweetener, he was offering to fly at least one contestant and any others that he thought worthy of a screen test to L.A. and back.

He set a date that gave us a month to put things together. He told us he wanted two sessions with four women in each. These would be held in different stage settings that we were to prepare. The first would be a classroom with blackboard, extra-wide teacher’s desk with gym mats on top for padding, 4 student desks, appropriate wall art, and a sturdy yard stick. The second would be and a Principal’s office with an executive desk with a couple of sets of restraints in the center drawer, half-filled bookcases, file cabinet (empty was okay), two side chairs and a couch, “and don’t forget the yardstick.” We were to send him measurements of the “contestants,” so that he would send us costumes.

When I put this to the partners we all thought that Mary would be a natural fit as a contestant. She looked a bit like Audrey Hepburn, and one of my reactions when I met her had been that if you put her in a private high-school girl’s uniform, the sort with a plaid skirt ankara moldovyalı escortlar and knee socks, she could raise a dead lecher. If this “audition” worked out and she were to hit it big in Hollywood, it could work for her on several levels, not the least of which was that her father should find it less personally demeaning if she became notorious as a sex bomb there rather than here. After all, sex is what they did for fun in Hollywood, wasn’t it, so Mary’s antics would not stand out.

However, that “we” did not include Mary. She made it plain that she was more than happy to be an interior decorator in Chicago, and not a film star, much less a starlet. Instead she suggested that we put Salome in the mix, and hope that she made it to Hollywood. If she were there, it would save us having to worry about what trouble her wild behavior might cause for us here

We put Ron to work on finding the other 7 candidates. By focusing on members with some sort of a screen presence — modeling jobs, their own webcam broadcasts, YouTube channels and podcasts — or local theater, and who had already displayed willingness to go that extra mile at New Xanadu, he was able to come up with another 10 women who fit the bill.

Invitations were sent out inviting these women to a free private sex party hosted by a “gentleman from Hollywood,” with a maximum of 7 invitees to be accepted, first come, first served. We thought about mentioning the screen test as a come-on, but decided that we didn’t want to be seen as offering anything of value for their attendance (especially since we had no guarantee that it was real), so we left that part out. In the end, 2 of our top choices declined with regrets due to being “very open to the idea but unavailable for that time,” but we easily filled those slots from our second string.

On the evening of the theme party, four of the partners, Thomas, Mary, Susan and myself were present. Mary was stashed in the security room with a very virile Sheriff’s Deputy to keep her happy, and Susan was up in her attic room, available if needed. Thomas manned the bar and I acted as Host, MC or whatever.

We had the local contestants assembled in the lounge at 6pm. On the way in they had changed into, as I had expected, schoolgirl uniforms with white blouse, plaid skirt, white socks and Mary Jane flats. No underclothes had been supplied with the costumes, so none were worn. At 6:30 our Premier Member arrived with his two guests, a man of about 30, very well-built and tanned, with movie-star quality facial features and hair; and a tallish woman of about the same age, who had a severe ice-maiden presence, definitely on the butch side. Our Premier Member was not unpleasant to look at; mid-50s, lovely silver hair offset by a deep California tan; and what his slight paunch lost him was more than made up by the air of power and wealth that he exuded.

He introduced himself as Mr. North and his companions as Mr. West and Ms. East, and instructed the contestants to address them at all times as Sir or Madam. He said that there would be two sessions, at 7 and 10. The first would be in the school Principal’s office and focused on disciplinary problems. The second would be in the classroom where the subject would be Sex Ed. There were no fixed scripts. He would set the scene and each contestant was required to to ad lib her part within it.

He went on to say that between the sessions there would be an approximately one hour break so that he and his guests could refresh themselves, and a light supper around midnight. At that point he announced that there would be a screen test offered to at least one of the women present, and to any others whose performance tonight indicated that they might have a future in the movies, with the winner or winners of the screen test to be announced over supper. That got the expected noticeable rise from the contestants.

He turned the floor over to me so that I could explain that, while CCTV cameras and mikes had been installed in each of our sets, with the feed piped in to a large screen TV in the lounge, no recordings were being made other than our normal security tapes, which would be scrubbed at the end of the next day providing there were no problems. Contestants not involved in a session were invited to watch from the lounge, where the bar was open. And, finally, anyone not wanting to drive back home afterward would be able to stay over in one of the second floor bedrooms — with door open or closed as she preferred

Mr. North asked if any of the contestants had a strong preference for first or second session. To my surprise, given how deeply she had been into the submissive side of BDSM, Salome opted for the Sex Ed session, and was allowed to be in that group.

Mr. North directed his guests and the first 4 contestants to go to the “Principal’s office.” Once they had arrived we heard Mr. West tell the contestants that they were in big trouble, and to act accordingly. Shortly after that Mr. North entered and said, sincan ukraynalı escortlar “Well, what have we here?”

Mr. West responded, “Sir, I have a couple of hard cases here who just won’t follow the rules in home room. They sit where they want to and talk when they’re supposed to be reading to themselves. I’ve tried everything sir, but I just can’t get them to behave.”

“And do these hard cases have names?”

“The blonde is called Heather, sir, and the brunette is Hillary.”

Heather started to say something and Mr. North cut her off curtly. “Young lady, you will remain silent unless I tell you to speak, or things will go worse for you. Is that understood?”

“Up yours.”

“What was that young lady? And you had better learn to address me as Sir.”

“Um, up yours, Sir.”

Right,” said Mr. North. “Mr. West, please go to my desk and remove a set of restraints. Ms. East, please control this young woman until Mr. West can cuff her to a chair.”

Ms. East moved with surprising speed and had Heather’s arms pinned behind her back before the “girl” could take a step toward the door. There followed a brief struggle; not too energetic, I noted, as “Heather” chose not to overplay her part, until she was bent over one of the chairs and her wrists were cuffed to its arms. In this position, her short skirt rose up enough to let us see that she was not wearing any panties.

“Now, you be quiet while I talk to these other people,” said Mr. North.

“Bite me,” said Heather.

“Young woman, you should be careful what you ask for. Mr. West, please go over and bite her on her ass. Hard, but not enough to break the skin, please. Put a handkerchief in her mouth first, before she digs herself in any deeper.”

“You’re gong to be in so much tr…” Heather started to say before the handkerchief was shoved in her mouth. For good measure Mr. West wrapped it with some of that tape that they use at blood centers and vets to keep it in place. Then he bit her on the ass hard enough to get a muffled shriek out of her.

“Ah, trouble,” said Mr. North when all that had been seen to. “Let’s get that out of the way right now.” He pulled a paper out of his pocket and said, “You should be aware that you are in this school, my school, because your parents have found your behavior to be disturbing if not disgusting, and uncontrollable. They want me not only to educate you but to teach you how to behave. To that end they have each signed an agreement that gives me full discretion to discipline you, and I quote, ‘by any means that will not result in lasting physical harm, specifically excluding, however, electroshock and lobotomy.’ You would do well to accept that this gives me a very free hand in what I can do.”

By this time Hillary, the other “hard case” and the two other “girls” were standing with hanging heads, no sign of fight in any of them.

“Good,” said North. “Now, Ms. East, what is the problem with your girls?”

“I caught them kissing in the shower after gym class, Sir.”

“So, they’re Lesbians. Is that really a problem? Certainly I would not expect it to be a problem for you, Ms. East.”

Ms. East did not flinch or show any color at this apparent jibe, but just said, “No, Sir, being a Lesbian is not a problem, Sir. But I would think that putting on a show for the other girls in the group shower is. These young women need to learn discipline and discretion, Sir.”

“Oh, right you are, Ms. East. Turning to the two girls standing near her he said, “You will be punished for your unseemly behavior in the shower. In the process, let’s settle the Lesbian thing. You may choose between 30 strokes of this yardstick, giving Mr. West and me a blowjob, or performing a sixty-nine with each other on that couch over there until you have both come. For your sakes, I do hope that you can come. You have three seconds to decide.”

The “girls” didn’t take the three seconds. They immediately fell into a deep kiss, then went to the couch, shucking their blouses, plaid skirts and shoes, and arranging themselves one on top of the other. Each was as enthusiastic as the other and it was no more than a couple of minutes before they had both come.

Mr. North said, “Now get up, come over here and each of you give Ms. East a kiss to show that there are no hard feelings.” When the first one reached up to put her hand behind Ms. East’s head Mr. North said, “No, not there. Her skirt is slit down the front. Open it and give her a proper kiss on her cunt.”

When each of the “girls” had complied, the second spending enough time to put a little color into the icy Ms. East’s cheeks, Mr. North said, “Now get out of here, and don’t do anything that brings you back to this office unless you want to be punished again. Next time you’ll be given only two choices that I think you will not enjoy as much as today’s punishment.”

After he two girls had left Mr. North turned to Hillary. “Young lady, you have shown more restraint than Heather here, but Mr. West elvankent minyon tipli escortlar says you are a hard case, so you will be punished. You also have a choice. You may have observed the bulges in my and Mr. West’s pants. Watching women make love to each other tends to have that effect. The normal punishment for a first visit to this office due to classroom disruption would be 30 strokes of the yardstick on your bare ass. You may reduce that to 15 strokes if you give Mr. West a blowjob, or to 5 stokes if you let him fuck you. May I assume that you have had experience in these areas before?”

“Yes Sir,” Hillary answered demurely. “If I go with the blowjob, would I be required to swallow?”

“Of course you would,”

Brightening, Hillary said, “In that case, the blowjob, please Sir. I just love the taste to cum.” And with that she turned the unoccupied chair so that she could kneel on it, lifted her skirt to reveal her bare ass, and opened her mouth expectantly.”

Mr. West said, “Um, Sir, first the spanking, I think, so that she can give her full attention to satisfying me.”

“Quite right, Mr. West,” Mr. North said as he delivered the first of the 15 strokes with the yardstick. In the lounge we could all see that he was pulling his punches, so to speak, and that while Hillary’s ass was a bright red when he was done, there were no welts on it. We could also see the sheen of her juices, no doubt produced in quantity by the big orgasm that she experienced on the 11th stroke, trickling down her thighs.

When the beating had stopped and Mr. West had moved within range, Hillary reached out and literally ripped his pants off, revealing simultaneously that they had Velcro fasteners for quick release, that Mr. West was not wearing underpants, and that he had a very nice cock of above-average length and girth. We did not have much time to assess this last detail as Hillary quickly wrapped her lips around its head and then propelled herself down most of the shaft with gusto. Pausing only for another small orgasm that seized her, she quickly brought Mr. West to his climax, continuing to suck him until she had gotten all that he could give.

When Mr. West managed to stagger back far enough for her to look up, Hillary stuck out her cum-coated tongue before swallowing, then said,”Oh Sir, I was such a bad, bad girl in class, maybe I should be fucked too?”

Mr. North thought for a moment then said, “My, but we are naughty, aren’t we. No, that doesn’t much sound like punishment the way you say it. Maybe you should be spanked some more instead.” Then after another moment, “On second thought, put that tongue of yours to work on Ms. East instead.”

That got Hillary off of her chair and onto her knees in front of Ms. East, who was leaning against the desk for support. When Hillary parted her skirt, Ms. East said, “You impertinent little girl. If you don’t make me come I shall ask Mr. North to let me use the stick, and I will not be as gentle as he was.”

Whether inspired by this threat or because she was just a natural born cunt eater, Hillary had no trouble satisfying Ms. East. Our view of the action was blocked by Hillary’s head, but we had a perfectly good view of Ms. East’s head, as it rolled from side to side and she gasped until she cried out loudly as she came.

“Well ladies, thank you; that was quite gratifying. Ms. East, please take Hillary to the staff lounge and get her cleaned up while Mr. West and I see what we can do to teach Heather to be more disciplined.”

Once they were gone, Mr. North positioned himself facing Heather and said, “Now, young miss, we can do this the hard way or the harder way. As your first lesson in obedience, you will be required to ask to be dominated. Simply put, I am going to spank you with this yardstick until you ask to be fucked. I do not want to hear any more of your dirty insults, so your mouth will remain gagged, and your hands will remain cuffed to the chair. When the time comes, and I am sure that it will come sooner or later, you will indicate your readiness by spreading those legs that you have kept so tightly together all this time. If you do that within the first 15 strokes, I will fuck you. If it takes as many as 25 strokes, Mr. West here will bugger you. And if you are so stubborn as to make me have to spank you more than 25 times, I will fuck you after which Mr. West will bugger you. Feel free to say ‘Eat me,’ or ‘Fuck you’ or whatever if you understand; it will all sound the same with that gag in you mouth.”

Naturally, Heather just clamped down on the gag and shot him a defiant look look, so Mr. went to the other side of the chair and started in with the yardstick. His strokes were even lighter than those that he had applied to Hillary, causing me to remember that this was play acting, after all, and that while the forms had to be observed, there was every incentive for him to allow Heather to choose just how much she wanted to be punished once the spanking was stopped.

It really came as no surprise to me that Heather held out until the 27th stroke had been delivered before she spread her legs. Either she wanted the full service for itself, or she was so determined to grab her best chance for that screen test that she took an extra stroke just to make sure that she had gotten the count required to act out the scene to its fullest.

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