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Club Deep: The Complete Series

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by Wylder, Penny




  Club Deep

  The Complete Series

  Penny Wylder

  Contents

  Tease

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Spread

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Bang

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Note from Penny

  Books By Penny Wylder

  Copyright © 2017 Penny Wylder

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely coincidental.

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  One

  Shit. I slam the car door, trying to shield myself from the rain with my bag. It’s not working. It’s pouring, and I can barely see the entrance to the club through the sheets of water. At least I’m getting a uniform today. Small favors.

  Headlights cut through the rain, and I get a flash of the front door. There are some people gathered under the edge of the building, smoking. The club doesn’t have any glitzy neon signs like most clubs do. In fact, unless I didn’t know there was a club here, I might assume that it was a vacant building and that the full parking lot was being used by other businesses. I’ve only been here once before for my interview, and it was during the day. So I didn’t notice the lack of signs.

  I give up trying to keep myself dry and sprint for the door. There was a major accident on the highway, so now I’m a half-hour late for my first shift. I’ll be lucky if they haven’t already fired me by the time I get inside. The main area of the club is one floor down, the basement opening up to a large two-story space. I’ve been told that Club Deep owns the whole building, though I don’t know what the upstairs floors are used for. None of my business, anyway.

  The bouncer waves me through, and I gather my hair in my hands, trying to wring it out the best I can. I twist it up into a knot at the back of my head, trying to tie it back while I hurry down the stairs. I should have worn better shoes and changed into the heels once I got here. Lesson learned. Shoes are the only things the club doesn’t provide.

  There’s a deep pounding through the walls. Bass from the music. I start to hear the sounds of people, and the stairs are lit up with flickering, colorful lights. This place was impressive when it was empty and dark, so I’m excited to see it when it’s full of life.

  I hit the last stair wrong, and I stumble, fighting to keep my balance. In classic Andrea fashion, it doesn’t work, and I’m about to end up sprawled on the ground when an arm catches me around the waist, saving me. The person helps right me, and I immediately turn. “Thank you. I’m so sorry. It’s pouring outside and I must have slipped and—”

  My words suddenly fall short as I take in my rescuer. It’s his lips I notice first. Full lips, begging to be touched. Then his eyes, which are dark. I can’t tell the color with all the lights, but I don’t need to see the color to feel the intensity of his gaze. He’s wearing a button-down shirt and vest. They fit him perfectly, and the sleeves are rolled up to show toned forearms with a peek of tattoos underneath. Arms that are still around my waist, holding me firmly to make sure I’m standing. Arms leading to a body that feels rock hard. Damn.

  If this is the kind of person that frequents Club Deep, sign me up. Yes, please!

  He smiles, slow and easy. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  “Good.”

  Behind him, I see a waitress passing by and my mind snaps back to why I’m really here. “I’m sorry, I have to go. You don’t happen to know where the employee dressing room is?”

  Handsome man lets me go, pointing across the club. “It’s over there, entrance is behind the bar.”

  “Thanks.” I wish I had more time to talk to him, but I need this job. Keeping it is more important than flirting. Unfortunately for me.

  The club is already busy, the dance floor packed with people under the rotating laser lights. House music vibrates under my feet, and I weave through the crowd of people as quickly as I can. I’m hoping that my drenched state will earn me some sympathy for being late.

  I find the entrance exactly where he said it was, and luckily someone is coming out just then. I use the opportunity to push inside the locker room. The sounds of the club fade to almost silence behind me. Soundproofed, then. The locker room is huge and comfortable, and I see a bunch of go-go dancers getting ready for the next shift, and a few waitresses scattered throughout.

  A harsh voice cuts across the room. “Are you Andrea?”

  “Yeah, that’s me.”

  A petite blonde woman comes over to me with a smile. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m Rosie. I’m your supervisor. We’re a little understaffed tonight so I need to give you the rapid-fire orientation.” She hands me a pile of clothes.

  “Okay. I’m really sorry I’m late. There was an accident on the highway, and it’s pouring.”

  “Just don’t let it happen again.” She gives me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Come with me.” She leads me over to a locker in the corner and hands me a piece of paper. “This is yours. The combination is on there, along with your personal safe code. Every employee has one so we know each time the safe is opened. If money is missing and your code was the one used, you’re gone. That’s the first thing you need to know. Got it?”

  “Got it.” I open the locker and shove my bag inside. “Is it okay if I dress while you talk?”

  “Be my guest.”

  I peel my soaked shirt over my head, and hang it inside the locker. I’m hoping it dries at least a bit before I head home later. “Keep the cash from customers on you so you can make change. People order drinks from their stations and we bring them. If they haven’t paid by card—and most of them haven’t because they don’t want Club Deep on their billing statements—they’ll give you cash right then. You’ll drop that cash off at the end of the night with your code.

  “Rule number two: No sex with clients on the clock. I don’t give a fuck what you do once you’ve punched out, but when you’re working, your time is my time. Number three: keep all the theme rooms stocked with supplies whenever you’re not serving—especially the orgy room. They use up a lot. And don’t interrupt any scenes that are taking place. Number four: wear gloves when you’re cleaning. That’s the down and dirty basics, the rest you can learn on the fly. That all sound good?”

  Umm…okay? Why would I have sex at work? She said something about an O.R.G. room. I need to figure out what that stands for later. Gloves, yes. Always smart. I nod, trying to absorb everything. I’ve gotten on the low-slung black pants.
They’re so tight that they feel like a second skin. The top is barely more than a bra, black with extra decorative straps that hug across my skin. They did tell me the uniform would be like this, but it’s a little strange now that I have it on. There’s a mirror in the locker and I glance at it. There’s a reason they’ve chosen this. It looks sexy.

  “You’ll get a second uniform later so you can swap them out,” Rosie says. “Take a couple minutes and then meet me at the bar.”

  “Okay.”

  She leaves, and I fix my hair, wringing more water out of it. Wait...what?

  Everything she just said to me hits at once. No sex with clients? Oh my god. Orgy not O.R.G. I realize that this is a very different club than I thought it was. This is a sex club.

  I suppose it’s too late to turn back now.

  Two

  Coming out of the locker room, I look at the club with new eyes. Clubs look different in the daytime—dead and empty, nothing is what it seems. And I was rushing through too quickly the first time to really take this all in. It’s…not what I had thought.

  I see now the roped off areas against the walls, filled with strange equipment and people in various stages of kinky sex. But it’s more than just that. The entire center of the club is a massive dance floor. There are three bars surrounding it, and go-go dancers are on top of the bars and suspended in cages from the ceiling. One floor up, a balcony runs around the entire club. There are tables and couches scattered around up there, and I suspect that’s where the theme rooms are that Andrea mentioned. Just from here I can see a giant window into what looks like a room filled with trees. There’s another level above that, but I can’t see what’s up there from down here.

  I take a deep breath and try to reassure myself. Okay, so this is a sex club. No big deal, right? It doesn’t change the job description at all. You’re still here to be a waitress, and that’s exactly what you’re going to do. You just might see more nudity than you thought you would.

  Rosie sees me and waves me over to the bar. “Here.” She hands me a plastic card while shouting over the music. “Keycard. It’ll let you into the locker room, stock room, and to restock the theme rooms even if they’ve been reserved or locked.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “I actually want you to do that now. Come with me.”

  We make our way across the dance floor to one of the staircases. Rosie leads me up the stairs and to a back corner where there’s a door that blends invisibly into the wall. I probably wouldn’t have noticed if Rosie hadn’t stopped in front of it. She waves her own plastic card by the door at hip level, and I see the outline of a sensor there. The door slides open, and I follow her inside. Again, the sudden absence of sound is jarring. “There are two stock rooms: upstairs and downstairs. It makes it easier to restock when you don’t have to carry tons of supplies up the stairs.”

  The stock room is bright and clean, shelves filled with blankets, bottled water, chocolate bars, condoms, bottles of lube, and more. Rosie gestures to the computer in the corner and activates the screen with her finger. “The rooms up here haven’t been restocked in a couple of hours, so I want you to do that. I don’t think anything will be really low, but it will be good practice for you. There are seven rooms on this floor. You can’t miss the shelves you’ll need to restock.”

  I clear my throat. “And what if…something’s happening?”

  “You mean if someone’s doing a scene or having sex?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I didn’t actually know about that…aspect…when I applied.”

  An unexpected laugh bursts from her. “You’re shitting me right?” I shake my head and she laughs harder. “Well you must be feeling like you’re in way over your head.”

  “You could say that.” I let out a nervous giggle.

  “It’s not going to be as awkward as you’re thinking,” she says. “Everyone who plays at the club knows the rules. They’re used to both wait staff and monitors walking in and out. Besides, most of the time they’re so immersed in their own little world that they’re not even going to notice you. Just be quick and quiet. Don’t be a distraction.”

  “I can do that.” I mean, I think I can do that. No fucking clue. “What’s on the third level?”

  Rosie waves a hand. “That’s the VIP area. You don’t have to worry about that for now.” She points to the computer. “After you finish stocking a room, just make a note of how much of each item you put in there.” Clicking on the tab labeled ‘orgy,’ she shows me the menu that pops up and how to input the numbers. “This makes sure we can keep up on orders so we don’t run out, so it’s important. That’s about it—pretty straightforward. If you have any problems, come find me downstairs, or if there’s an emergency, there are monitors walking the floors.”

  The door to the stockroom seals behind us as we step out, and Rosie walks towards the stairs. She’s got the movement of someone determined that she won’t be slowed down. She turns back just before she reaches the stairs. “Oh, and the club safe word is ‘Red.’ If you hear someone saying that, get a monitor in that room immediately. Got it?”

  “Got it.” No pressure.

  Part of me is glad I don’t have to serve customers right away. At least I’ll be able to get my bearings a little. Even if I’m going to be going in and out of rooms full of naked people. Immediately my mind takes over, imagining rooms swarming with people in various stages of sex. Hands stroking, mouths sucking, skin shining with sweat and fucking. A streak of heat flares through me, and I ignore it. I take a deep breath and look around the balcony. Might as well go clockwise, right?

  The first room, to my immediate relief, is empty. I scan my card and the door slides open silently. It’s warm in here, and dry. It’s draped in silks like some kind of magical desert temple or something out of Aladdin. Pillows are scattered across the floor and the room smells sweet, like incense. It clicks in my mind—this is a harem room. As Rosie said, you can’t miss the shelves, they are right beside the doorway, and I look through everything. I’m going to have to grab a notepad from the stockroom in order to keep track of what to stock. I can do this.

  I add a few bottles of water to the harem room and note them in the computer. There’s a small room off to the side with racks of clothing. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I flip on the light. Costumes. Everything from Disney’s Aladdin to more traditional Arabian Nights is in here. There’s a basket labeled ‘laundry,’ too. This is crazy and also amazing. It’s easy to imagine getting carried away in a place like this, and I’m not at all surprised that it’s so crowded.

  The next theme room isn’t nearly as simple. This is the orgy room that Rosie was talking about. The room itself is…gorgeous. It reminds me a little of the King’s room in the animated film Cinderella. Almost the entire room is taken up by an absolutely huge bed, and above that is a giant, sparkling chandelier. The entire room is soft and warm. And full of people fucking. I know I’m not supposed to be distracting, or distracted, but holy hell—it’s almost exactly what I imagined.

  There’s easily twenty people on the massive bed, bodies twisted and entwined. There’s a woman being shared by two men, cradled between them while they fuck her from either side. I can hear her moaning above the rest of the room, a pure raw symphony of sex that’s sending shivers of desire through me—a reaction from seeing a scene of pure lust. I see another man pounding into a woman, only to see that he’s being fucked from behind by another man whose balls are being sucked from below. Everywhere I look there are cocks being sucked and mouths being used and pussies being fucked and it’s…hot. I thought I would be uncomfortable but instead I’m wet. It’s mesmerizing, and I don’t want to look away.

  A girl who’s giving a blowjob looks up at me and grins. I blush, remembering that I’m here to refill the supplies. If this room can accommodate this many people, no wonder it goes through the most supplies. Rosie was correct, these shelves need a ton of refilling, and it takes several trips to get the shelves full ag
ain.

  I don’t think I would like being in that crowd, but watching so many people connect and do what they want with each other is amazing, and arousing. Damn. I wasn’t counting on being horny on the job. I guess that’s why they made the ’no sex on the clock’ rule. I’m curious to know how many times that happened before they had to make it a rule.

  The next room is cold stone and torches, with chains and wooden tables and equipment that’s mildly terrifying. But not so terrifying that it doesn’t fill my mind with images that make me squirm in the best way. There’s a cross obviously meant to spread someone open, and even though I’ve never really thought about that kind of thing, the sight of it sends tingles of desire across my skin. Being bound and vulnerable, the idea makes my breath go short. As I look around, there are some people playing in here, and I’m curious, but the atmosphere in the room is so intense that I don’t feel like I can watch without intruding. I refill the shelves as quickly and quietly as I can before moving on. It ends up being a lot easier than I thought it was going to be. And less weird. It takes me a little more than an hour to finish all the rooms. Someone could probably just keep going in circles doing refills. But since Rosie didn’t tell me to do that, I put my last numbers in the computer and head down to the dance floor.

  I don’t see Rosie as I make my way towards the main bar, and the bartender doesn’t know where she is either. I decide to wait because I don’t want to do something I’m not supposed to on my first day. I keep looking for her though, looking across the room to the other bars and seeing if she’s there.

 

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