Collecting Rayne

by Havok, Rayne

  “So, you DO remember me!”

  He flings me off of him and I flop on the bed, bouncing and narrowly escape biting my tongue. “Ouch.”

  “What the fuck are you doing Haley!” he’s grabbing up clothes and covering himself with them. I stay completely naked where I landed.

  “I’m just trying to get some quality time with my dad.”

  “Are you fucking serious! You made me fucking do that to you! I can’t believe you. It’s fucking disgusting.”

  He keeps spitting short sentences at me. I let him, reveling in his anger.

  “You could have just called,” he finishes.

  “You would have found the time to answer?” I feign shock. “All those days I cried because you didn’t want me. All those nights other men wanted me. You sat here, building a beautiful life for yourself all alone. Even having another kid. You take care of her. You find time for her. But never me.”

  “I was older when she was born.”

  “Ohhh, ok. I see. You weren’t ready for me to be born. Got it.”

  “It’s not like that, I never wanted kids, I didn’t know about her until she was born.”

  “Oh, so my mother just needed to wait ‘til my birth to tell you, then you wouldn’t have left.”

  “No… I don’t know.”

  “Well, dad, I’m not really happy with the apology,” I tease. I’m not really angry anymore. My past is what it is, what it will always be. Him apologizing won’t change that.

  “Haley…”

  “I’m kinda upset you think so little of me that you didn’t even think of me when I told you my name, for fuck sake, I’m named after you. Remember you and mom did that stupid Brangellina bullshit and squished your names together to make mine. Haden plus Lilly equals Haley, that’s me!”

  “It’s not that I don’t think of you…”

  I interrupt the awkward attempt at lying about how frequently he has had me cross his mind. “It’s ok, dad.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t call me that while you’re naked on my bed.”

  “You liked it a few minutes ago. I’m naked and full of more than one load of your come because you liked it so much.”

  “Oh my god, I can’t believe you did all this.” His legs give out and he rests his ass on the mattress.

  I crawl over to him and wrap my arm around him. He freezes, unsure about my motives—as he should be.

  “I couldn’t think of another way to introduce myself.”

  “I’m not buying that; this is the most fucked up thing you could have done.”

  “I could have waited until you fell so in love with me that we were getting blood tested for a marriage license and got the news together that we couldn’t legally be together.”

  He practically jumps six feet in the air, “was that the other fucking option?”

  “I had many years to think about making my grand entrance. I figured this was as good a way as any.”

  “What do you want from me? Aside from making me disgusted with myself.”

  “I just wanted to know if you could have made time for me.”

  “I suppose I could have if I tried, I’m sorry I didn’t make the effort.”

  “It’s ok, daddy, you can make it up to me now.” I get up from the bed, saunter into his master bath and turn the hot water on.

  “What does that mean?” he follows me as far as the doorway, but doesn’t cross the threshold. God forbid he see me shower.

  “It means, you have yourself a new roommate.”

  Silence.

  “I’m not going to be too much trouble, but I need a place to stay and you feel really bad for leaving me to the wolves, so you get to make up for it now.”

  “Fine,” I hear him say.

  “Oh my god, there is so much of your come inside me, it’s a good thing you have the detachable shower head in here.” I shout above the noise of the water.

  I hear him grumble something but ignore it, instead, turning the nozzle toward my clit, I let it get me off.

  “What the fuck are you doing in there!” I hear my dad ask annoyed.

  “Just enjoying myself. Wanna watch?”

  “Of course I don’t! Stop messing around Haley.”

  “That reminds me,” I say, turning the water off and stepping from the walk-in shower, wrapping a towel around my chest, “do you want me to call you Haden… or daddy?”

  He rolls his eyes in frustration, “I suppose I’d actually appreciate Haden.”

  “I’ll try and remember that, Haden. Now, can you show me to my room?” When he hesitates, I ask, “unless you want me to sleep in here?”

  “No, god, quit it.”

  The End.

  Necrosis

  A man’s body is found in the park, all leads are pointing to the strip club he’d visited the night before.

  Nothing Chief Cunningham can’t handle, until the M.E notices some peculiar and irregular signs of decomposition.

  And then... a second body.

  Chapter one

  Josh Whitmore…

  I was nominated unanimously to be the bachelor party planner. Now, I know nothing about such things. I’ve never been, nor do I ever want to be, married. But the other guys need someone to blame, I suppose, for what might transpire during tonight’s shenanigans. If wives or girlfriends can point the finger at me for any, or all, things that have gone on tonight, then it saves the rest of them from the doghouse.

  I think on some level they know that I’d be the one to find us the best show in town. And honestly, after weeks of investigating, and even going so far as to ask around about such things, I’ve found the perfect location, a strip club simply called Vīrya. It boasts the best private rooms and all the nudity one can handle.

  It’s expensive but, for what I’ve heard happens here, it should be worth every penny.

  The heavy, metal entrance door is hidden below street level; if you had not been given directions, you’d probably miss it. Not great for walk in traffic, but it sounds like reputation alone keeps these ladies drenched in cash. I had to book out weeks in advance to get this VIP room, and even then, it was like pulling teeth to get it reserved. So many requirements, at one point, I thought they’d demanded virgin blood for payment.

  The neon light above the door says Vīrya in the reddest red neon they could probably find, the rectangular glow creeping through the crack around the door is also red, giving it a sleezy feel that has me more than excited.

  The six of us stand patient, following the instructions of invite that state someone would see us in after signaling our arrival. Our excitement building in wait. It doesn’t go unnoticed that the rest of them fall-in just behind me, making me lead them inside when it’s time. They are desperate to distance themselves from any responsibility for this.

  The women they have all involved themselves with have barely let this event happen. We made promises of checking-in with them throughout the night and met their list of demands. The evenings rules were practically put in a written contract before allowing them to participate.

  Lies also were told, plenty of lies. For one, they don’t know we are coming here, or even that here exists. They do know we are going to a strip club though, topless only. We had to divulge that, you can’t return to your house without the woman living there knowing you’d been inside a nudie club, even if it was for only a moment—maybe you had to piss, maybe you needed the phone, doesn’t matter the length of time. The glitter and smells will alert them every single time and she’s instantly yelling above the sound of your excuses.

  So, as far as their women know, we are at a respectable gentleman’s club. And it’s on my friends to keep it from their significant others. The cover story was made and, if all goes as planned, each of them can answer the questions that may arise with the same response, knowing that if one falls, they all fall.

  The door opens and a too-large man merely lifts his chin at us. I’m assuming he wants to know if we know what we’re doing here.


  “I’m Josh Whitmore; we have the bachelor party in a VIP tonight, it’s been reserved.” I try to sound authoritative, but the size of this man alone has me feeling like a child, looking so far up to see his face that I feel small by comparison. I’m sure his size alone is enough to keep him gainfully employed here.

  “No guns or weapons beyond this point, take everything out of your pockets, put your shit in a container, and then walk through single-file.” He sounds like he has something thick lodged in his throat, like half a sandwich from lunch, giving him an ogre-like grumble.

  After following all his commands, we walk through the door, the light is blinding, red and strobing. It’s hard to get anything accomplished when my hands are jumping through space. We all manage to make it without stumbling, then await further instruction.

  There is no music in this secondary part of the building, I can hear it thumping in the distance beyond the walls, but this area is quiet enough that no one has to shout to be heard. It makes me wonder if the strobe light is more for the guest’s confusion than anything ambiance related.

  The security guard ambles his way over to us, looking even more intimidating as he moves about the small room.

  “You can touch. But if the girl wants you to stop, you stop.”

  Pause for dramatic effect while he scans our faces for sinister intentions.

  “No rules, other than what the ladies put on you. I hear even one peep about you not following that rule, the consequences will make you wish you hadn’t hit puberty yet. Secondly, the deposit was just that, a d-e-p-o-s-i-t,” he enunciates each letter. “It in no way means you have paid for your time here tonight. If I hear one word about you being cheapskates, you will leave here broke in more ways than just that one. The girls work hard and deserve to be taken care of.”

  Another of his signature pauses while he judges whether we’ve all gotten the message before he continues.

  “Most importantly, have a good time, boys. You’re in room 104, Tula is yours for the night.” He gives us a grin that almost looks like it pains him to use those muscles.

  The hallway is dark and long, giving my eyes time to adjust—and appreciate, the lack of strobe.

  Passing an open door, I can’t help but peek inside, giving my baby ducks a moment to catch up. The large room has a gleaming pole dead center with the most beautiful redhead twirling gracefully around it, fully naked. We pause long enough to catch her finale—which happens to be the best use of a pole I’ve ever seen.

  I lead us deeper into the hall, and when the last of the numbers still isn’t ours, we turn the corner down another hallway, each of the doors having a placard for its number. They are in numerical order, but not all numbers are there, it jumps from 97 to 104 and then 217 next to that.

  I enter the simple four-digit code I was given at the time of reservation, after hearing a click, I push the door open.

  To say I am surprised by what’s inside is an understatement by far. I’ve been places and seen things in my life, traveled to other countries, dabbled in a bit of this-and-that, but I have never come across something like this.

  The caliber of women this rinky-dink place has acquired is astounding. I thought the red head from the other room was as close as you could get to a ten, but seeing our dancer, the bouncer guy said her name was Tula, makes the ginger a low seven on a good day.

  Tula has the darkest black hair I’ve ever seen, like the vinyl of new record, it is shiny enough to see a reflection in it; her crisp, blue eyes hold mine as I step aside to let the others enter. The heavy door closes behind, leaving us awestruck by what lies in front of us. We stand frozen in time just staring at her.

  She is in leather—red leather, stuck tightly to her like skin. Her nipples are exposed through cut-out circles. The matching red boots, high on her thighs, meeting the hem of her skirt, leaving just a hint of skin to see, part of which is the lips of her pussy.

  She’s tall and long legged, round tities, probably bigger than her waist, bounce youthfully as she approaches us.

  I remain frozen like a deer in her headlights, and it takes her pulling me by the arm to get my feet working. She lifts my shirt over my head, flinging it to the couch, and shoves her hand into my pants, grabbing my apparently already hardened cock. I jump, clearing my throat, “Woah.”

  “Do you want me to stop?” Her mouth brushes my ear and her soft words flutter right to my dick.

  “No.”

  “Come here boys,” she says to the ducklings behind me, but they can’t move. The second we made it through the door their jaws hit the floor like boat anchors. She walks over to them, and her absence quickly has me wishing I’d come alone tonight. The jiggling of her ample ass makes the sting of her departure easier to handle, it’s full and round, and when she bends to take the pants off the groom-to-be, I can practically see inside of her. Both holes staring at me, calling to me to fill them.

  I’m the only one in the room with pants still on so she returns, crouching in front of me with her thighs spread apart, Tula makes a slow go of pantsing me.

  My dick springs free, taking it in her hand and squeezing the tip, she slides her finger along to collect the stringy bead that has seeped out. She touches it to her tongue then slowly sucks her finger into her mouth.

  Fuck.

  Gliding up my body until she’s pressed against me. “You taste yummy.”

  Chapter two

  Tula has us all seated on the leather couch. It’s horse-shoe shaped with only enough space in the middle to walk through. It leaves the six of us so close together our knees are touching. She stands in the center of us moving from one to the next, teasing and grinding.

  She knows what she’s doing for sure. I love the one-on-one attention, but as she’s paying it to another, she’s putting on a show for the rest of us as well, bending and writhing to keep our eyes on her every move.

  She continues until I’m almost on the verge of losing it, my head is so dizzy from lust I just want to come.

  Almost as though she can hear me beg, Tula takes a glass from the table, drinking the water that fills it, and then walks over to me. Snaking her hand around my throbbing dick, she milks me until I come, placing the cup in such a way that it catches every drop, like an expert extracting snake venom. She tips it back, and I watch as it slowly makes its way to the rim of the glass and into her mouth, she shows it on her tongue before swallowing it.

  Moving onto the next of us, this time waiting until they’ve all deposited into the cup before taking the drink.

  Against my better judgment, and forgetting the proper etiquette of when to touch your dick in public, my hand gets to work on getting her another drink. She interrupts my stroking only long enough to straddle my thighs. Spreading her pussy lips with two fingers she points at her glistening slit and says, “Come right here for me.”

  I do so without touching her, although it’s a struggle not to skim across her for just a taste. It seems she’s keeping just far enough away to keep that from happening. I shoot my come all over her lower lips, streams of it landing right on target.

  She drags her hand across it all and then slowly licks it clean, one finger at a time and then the palm.

  Slinking off my lap and kneeling on the rug between us all, she pulls the tight leather skirt up, wearing it like a belt, and then reaches down to slip her fingers into her wet pussy, the other hand pinching an exposed nipple.

  The room is thick and humid with heavy breathing, but in the moments between breaths, the stickiness of her hole can almost be felt.

  Nathan, the least likely to do what he does, stands and tugs on his cock. She seems to love that he’s been driven to do such a thing and pulls him closer to her open mouth, tongue out, waiting for his deposit.

  It happens quickly and not much lands on the target, leaving her with come across her chest. Against the red of the leather, it’s too much to handle. Two more of them get up the moment they see it themselves and yank until they’ve added
to the mess.

  She orgasms loudly, leaving us all craving a bit more of her.

  She stands, looking a little worn out but not any less desirable, if anything, the slutty way she wears the come as a badge of pride makes her all the more.

  “I have money for you, Tula,” I say, fumbling to find my pants. The others do too, digging out their wallets for cash.

  “Thank you, if you have time to stick around, I’ll be dancing on the stage for the final show tonight, you’re more than welcome to have some drinks and enjoy until closing.”

  Her voice is sultrier now, filled with lust.

  “Oh, for sure we will, thank you.”

  She expertly fits every last dollar into her balled fists and strolls away through a second door that I hadn’t noticed until now.

  Chapter three

  We pull ourselves together, only now, realizing what a circle jerk that was.

  The giant bouncer stops us before leaving the long hallway, blocking us from entering the large room where Tula will be dancing later and says, “Tula tells me she invited you to stay. Same rules apply, you treat each of these ladies with respect and you pay for their time.”

  “Got it,” I say. So far, everything has been well worth the time and money I’ve put into this. I have no problem taking out a loan, a second mortgage, or cashing in my nonexistent child’s nonexistent college fund, to spend every night here until my dick falls off.

  The ogre moves to one side, revealing the doorway for us to enter. We make our way to the stage where a table large enough to accommodate us conveniently sits open.

  There are quite a few people here, but all seem to be keeping to themselves and that’s fine with me.

  A petite blonde walks up to us, her tits making it to the table first, they practically rest on it as she takes our drink order. We give it to her and she walks away, her naked ass jiggling as it follows behind. I realize she’s only wearing a small pocket apron around her hips to hold a notepad and pen. Looking around, I see the rest of the ladies are in the same state of undress. Fully naked dress code for everyone here—except the bouncer, thank fuck.