Tales from the Club: Bought to Pop

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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.


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 Maltepe Escort 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”

I said, “John will do nicely, Jill. And it’s very good to be with you again.”

Jill gave a little smile and turned to Rebecca, saying, “How about pouring our drinks, dear?”

As Rebecca filled the two glasses Jill said with a little bitterness, “At 18 you can make contracts, marry, get an abortion without anyone’s consent, and even kill people legally if you join the Army to do it. But we’ve agreed with our hostess to honor that bullshit law about the drinking age being 21.”

Rebecca just nodded Yes, and Jill said, “Good girl. Now, bring John and me our drinks and put the pitcher on the bedside table. Then you can go sit on that chair while John and I have a conversation, maybe a couple of conversations,” she said with a wink in my direction.

When Rebecca had carried out her orders, Jill clinked glasses with me and we each took a long pull. She patted a spot at the foot of the bed and said, “Have a seat please, John,” and came to stand in front of me when I did.

“Yes, Jill,” I said, sitting down. “Before we go any further, if you don’t mind, may I ask, why me? You could have almost any other man in the room tonight, for free.”

“Well, John, there are a couple of reasons. For the second one the short answer is because I want you. To be honest, every since you put on that little show with Carla and me, and then with Susan, I’ve wanted you, and somehow you’ve Cevizli Escort always been busy one way or the other. There’s a lovely, easy way about you, and everyone I’ve heard say anything says you give really great, well, everything.

“The first reason, though, is that I want you for Rebecca. Maybe you should tell him, hon,” she said as she turned to the girl.

Rebecca looked down, blushing, and said, “Mom wants you to pop my cherry.”

“Don’t be crude, dear,” Jill said. And she must have caught my look of surprise because to me she said, “Please don’t tell me have a problem with that.”

“No problem, it’s just that I’m finding that hard to accept.”

“Hard to accept or hard to believe, John. Don’t tell me that you have something about deflowering virgins. I know it’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it,” she said with a smirk.

“Okay, hard to believe. First, hard to believe that Rebecca is still a virgin. Shes 18, she’s lovely. Second, hard to believe that you would need to pay anyone to go to bed with her. There are about a hundred guys downstairs who would fight each other to do that for free. Hell, if she wanted, show them a tight hymen and she could sell her cherry for a lot more than what you paid to buy me tonight. So, again, why me?”

“Hey, you guys, I’m right here, you know,” Rebecca said. You want to let me talk?”

“I’m sorry, honey,” Jill said. “You go ahead.”

“Well, John, let’s just say that through most of high school I was part of the goody goody group that had pledged to save ourselves for marriage. But as time went on I kept hearing from some of the other girls how much fun they were having with boys, and I found myself thinking more and more about sex. I decided that for my 18th birthday present to myself I’d give up the good girl act and see what it was all about. So on September 15th I had a little party for just me and a couple of cute guys from the football team. We drank a little wine and fooled around some, kissing and groping, and it felt really good. They wanted me to go all the way but I told them I wasn’t ready for that. They were nice, and they backed off. But somehow word got around the locker room that I was available.

“Then one day this guy from the wrestling team cornered me and told me he was going to ‘stick it in me.’ I told him No, and he tried to force me. He had me pinned pretty well and was ripping at my clothes when I kneed him in the crotch and ran home crying. When I got home Mom was there, and she asked me what had happened, and I told her everything. She really surprised me then. Instead of calling me a slut or blaming me for what had happened, she held me and rocked me, and we cried together, and she told me that it wasn’t my fault, that sex was a good thing, a great thing, when you did it right. She told me to try not to do anything stupid for the next few days while she worked on something.

“That next Monday, Mom sat me down in the kitchen and said she thought she might have a solution, but she needed another week. It was two weeks later when she told me that she had worked things out. She said that next year, when I was in college, sooner or later I was going to start having sex. She couldn’t do anything to help me or protect me there, but that if I’d trust her, she could see that my first time was as good as it could be. She told me about this club, and that she could get me in and get someone who knew how to do it right to be my first. I just told her to let me think about it, and the more I thought about it the more I wanted it, so by Friday I told her, ‘Let’s go for it.'”

Jill cut in, “Honey, please pour us another drink and let me take it from here.” Rebecca didn’t seem to have any problem this. She got up, refilled our glasses, then went back to her chair.

“John,” Jill said,” I’ve been a member here ever since you’ve opened. I’ve watched you with women. You treat them with both respect and, as far as I’ve seen, considerable expertise. And I’ve watched Susan from the first night you brought her here, and I’ve seen her blossom. That was one frightened woman, and now she’s running this place, and enjoying sex on top of that. I would not be upset if she was what my daughter were to become when she grows up.

“So I asked Susan for a conference. I told her about Rebecca’s problem, and about my desire to get her sex life off to a wonderful start, and I asked her about you. Susan told me her story, and about how you helped her get over it. Then she called Joan in and that woman thinks you might be God’s gift to battered women. Both of them said they couldn’t think of anyone better for a girl’s first time.

“I’d been planning to approach you privately, but when the auction came up, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to buy you, as it were. For me and for Rebecca. And by the way, I really was prepared to give up at $1400, but it seems that Rebecca wanted you too. That last $300 was hers, so she has skin Atalar Escort in this game in more ways than one.”

I looked over at Rebecca and she blushed, then nodded Yes before looking down.

“So, John, are we good here? Are you ready to be all that you can be for me and my girl?”

“Jill, the pleasure will be al mine,” I said.

“Oh, I assure you, it will not be,” Jill shot back. And turning to Rebecca she said, “Honey, I once heard a priest say that he thought sex was what God gave us to make up for all the bad stuff. Usually I don’t have much use for priests, but I think he may have gotten that one right. Now, you just sit there and pay close attention while your old mom shows you how it’s done.”

With that, Jill dropped to her knees in front of me, lifted the hem of my tunic, and sucked my cock into her mouth. I’d seen Jill give head in the Union Station room many, many times, and based on our one fleeting shared encounter, I’d thought she was good at it. I was wrong; good was hardly the word. She was one of the most creative cocksuckers that I had encountered, and after Martha and Mary that was saying a lot. Swirling her tongue and giving little scrapes with her teeth around the tip of my cock, she had me rock-hard within seconds. Any thoughts or questions I was having about Rebecca’s imminent defloration evaporated as she worked me over with her mouth.

I started to thrust but she pulled back and said, “No, John, just let me play a little, and don’t even think of coming in my mouth. I’ve got a better place for that.” Then she gently sucked on one of my balls before nibbling her way from base to tip and suddenly plunging down my shaft.

Christ, I thought, for a woman who doesn’t want me to come in her mouth, she’s doing everything she can to get me to come in her mouth. Think of something else before you blow your load. So I thought about accounting problems, which is about as un-sexy as anything in the world.

Even accounting problems could hold out for only so long against Jill’s expert mouth. When she sensed that I was close to coming she pulled back, stood up and shucked her fluffy robe to reveal a red cupless, crotchless lace teddy. “Now, lover, I want you scoot up on the bed for me.”

I didn’t need to think; my little head had taken over long ago. I scooted.

Jill climbed up on the bed, straddled me, and grabbed hold of my cock, aiming it at the lips of her cunt. Slowly she descended and wet as she was already, had no trouble taking me in smoothly. The look on her face was sublime: eyes closed, lower lip caught between her teeth. When she was fully impaled on my prick, she opened her eyes and flopped forward to plant a big, open mouthed kiss on my mouth. Then, looking me in the eyes, “John, don’t be shy about being a little rough with my tits. Make me come big, and then you can fill me up with your cum.”

I pushed her up far enough to get one of her tits in my mouth and then I began to suck and lick it as she started to move up and down my prick. I’d been close before we started, and wasn’t going to be able to hold out for long. She’d said a little rough, so I took a nipple between my teeth and bit down softly. She moaned and didn’t pull away, so I bit harder. “Oh, my god, yes. Don’t stop,” she said as she slammed her cunt down hard. I really was getting close, and was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to hold out until she came, so I decided to go all out. Still biting her tit, when she next raised her cunt I got a hand in between us and started rubbing her clit. And on her next down thrust I plunged a finger from my other hand into her ass.

She screamed as the muscles in her cunt clamped down on my prick, and her anal sphincter grabbed my finger. I spurted string after string of cum into her hot, tight cunt.

Jill flopped forward again and whispered in my ear, “Honey, that was so good, and worth the wait.” We lay like that until our breathing had calmed then she said, “I’ve heard you’re an expert pussy eater. I hope you don’t mind creampies, because now I want you to eat me out until I come again. Will you do that for me, lover?”

“Come on down, or up, or whatever,” I said, and gave her a little thrust with my hips to get her moving in the right direction.

Jill started slithering up my belly and chest, depositing a trail of our mixed juices as she went. When she got to my shoulders I grasped her hips and lifted her so that she could plant her knees either side of my head, then I settled her down until my face was buried in her cunt.

That was one of the sloppiest cunts I’d ever stuck my tongue into. I must have cum gallons, or a whole lot anyway, and Jill’s juices had flowed copiously as well. Happily, I’d learned to enjoy eating creampies, my own and others’, a long time ago, so what might have turned some guys off was a turn-on for me. I began licking around her lips, occasionally sticking my tongue in as deep as I could, but avoiding her clit for now. I wanted to show her a good time, and probably wanted to show her that I was as good at oral sex as she was. Besides, we were in no hurry; she’d bought me for the whole night and, truth to tell, by now I would have been happy to throw in extra innings for free.

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