“Is he hot?” I asked her.
“I almost quit to take my own shot,” she told me, her eyes misting up.
“What’s his name?” I asked her, and I suddenly realized that this was also a first… I wasn’t thinking with my vagina, it was my heart. Part of me wanted to find this hurt and broken man, and smother him with love, paint the raw and painful parts of his soul, and I hadn’t ever met him! Talk about neurotic! Right?
“Alex Johnson, but he’s been highly sought after. He took one of the most notorious Dom’s in Vegas and switched her, and her husband and she had been trying to have a baby forever and couldn’t… She’s now pregnant,” she told me quietly.
“He what?” I asked her, somewhat shocked.
“Do you know much about Dom/Subs?” she asked me.
“No, honestly, until a week and a half ago I was a virgin,” I told her, and I heard somebody choking and looked to see Janice, whom I’d forgotten, trying not to spew her drink all over in laughter.
“Bitch, you knew,” I told her, kind of pissed that she’d interrupted.
“I thought you were exaggerating,” she told me, smiling.
“OK, so forgetting Mrs. Crankypants there, yes, until a week and a half ago, I was a virgin, but what’s a Dom?”
“Well, in this case, she was a Dominant personality, sexual, violent, and headstrong. He subdued her as gently as possible and made her submit.”
“And then what happened?” I asked breathlessly.
“She submitted. She let him do whatever. He impregnated her,” she told me, a tear running down her cheek again. I was guessing he didn’t know about this, though.
“You love him, don’t you?” I asked her, touched. She just nodded.
“That’s what hard about my job. I know everything, and I mean everything, about my clients. This man deserves so much more than what his wife did…” and she stopped, wiping her eyes.
“What about his wife?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t say. The non-disclosure agreement,” she told me.
I nodded, and noticed that Jan was on the edge of her seat, still eyeballing the guys at the bar, who had turned and were making unobtrusive gestures for her to come join them.
“Get your bitch ass over there, slut,” I told her, “Otherwise you are going to give them the wrong idea.”
“Caroline, you have no idea what the wrong idea is,” she told me, laughing and standing.
“Melinda, you’ll get her signed up?” she asked.
“Sure, as long as she passes the physical.”
“She has my club card. I’m sure there’s enough on it to get her membership going.”
“Jan, you don’t…”
“Oh, shut up, you never know,” she said, swaying slightly, “I may request you handcuffed and spread-eagled on a bed someday… That alone will be worth the price of admission” she said with a wink and turned, walking towards the bar.
The goose bumps were back, and not only did my nipples immediately stiffen, but I could feel my panties getting wet.
“Oh, what a bitch,” I muttered under my breath, but my condition didn’t go unnoticed.
“You like girls?” Melinda asked me frankly.
“If you would have asked me yesterday…”
“You were a virgin a week ago? You’re what, twenty-two?”
“Twenty-five,” I told her. “And yes, sort of long story, but I ended that in a fantastic way,”
“Want to share?” she asked me in a low voice.
We ended up talking for hours, and I barely noticed when Jan left the lounge with the two guys. The slut; I vowed to up my game. She walked back into the bar, her hair slightly messy, and her outfit in slight disarray. She gave me a smile and I wrote my signature on the final document.
“OK, Carrie,” Melinda told me, and I squirmed with the name, the intimacy of the secret name, “last thing, I need you to go to our clinic for a full physical,” she told me.
“Now?”
“Why not, it’s staffed 24/7.”
So I stripped under the gaze of an Indian doctor who worked for the club, and after he examined every inch of my skin, I gave urine and blood samples.
“How long will this take?” I asked him as I was pulling my clothing back on.”
“A week, perhaps two,” he told me, and let Melinda know I was done.
She downloaded some apps on my phone, and showed me how to check out requests. She also helped me set up my personal profile while we waited for Jan, who had found some other hapless victims somewhere. I was ready to leave when she walked back into the bar like a drunken sailor, saddle-sore, and walking stiffly.
“Ready to go, you dirty slut?” she asked me, with a hiccup. The smell of Cuervo was strong, so I knew she’d refreshed her drink in the past hour.
“Yeah, I’m all done for now,” I told her, kind of pissed that I got dressed up in my “Fuck Me” clothing, and the closest I got was second base with my fucking best friend… The guy she tried to set me up with was too lame to even consider a waste of time….
“OK, call a cab?” she asked me drunkenly.
“Oh yeah. I’m not walking in these shoes.”
“Bitch.”
“Slut.”
“Hussy.”
“Hooker,” I laughed, as I put my arm around her and headed for the exit, getting my phone from security.
“Caroline, here, this is an about us that you have to read, sign, and bring back to me before we finish signup… but wait till your medical release comes in,” she told me, taking a sip of her wine, handing me the final sheets.
Chapter 13 - Fantasy Inc. – The Concept
Fantasy Incorporated is a business that operates out of an old twenty-story hotel building. From the outside, you would never know the type of business it is. Many folks know of it by reputation, and once the good folks from the city tried to get it shut down only to get rebuked at every turn. It seems that most people have fantasies, and between consenting adults, almost every fantasy can be fulfilled here.
A onetime membership purchase of $10,000 and a monthly fee of $500 is only the first step. Fantasy Inc. has its own doctors who will thoroughly examine every member monthly and conduct drug and STD testing to ensure the health and safety of every member. After all, most fantasies are sexual in nature, although many of them are also focused on power and dominance. Members are entitled to as many Step 1 fantasies as they can handle in a month’s time, two Step 2 fantasies per month, and one Step 3 Fantasy per month.
Step 1 Fantasy – You are an extra. Often you’ll be like a movie extra. Your night might consist of sitting in a restaurant and having dinner with another member so we can fill the seats.
Step 2 Fantasy – Often a step 2 fantasy involves folks who want voyeurs to watch them having sex without the worry of being arrested for lewd or indecent acts. Participants in a step 2 fantasy are allowed to disrobe, and pleasure themselves, but are not allowed to become active participants.
Step 3 Fantasy – This is your fantasy. You and your participating member choose what the fantasy is, and how it’s played out. Anything goes unless it is illegal such as pedophilia, necrophilia, etc. You can set up threesomes, foursomes, group sex, gang bangs, rape fantasy, or a more traditional fantasy. Meet a guy/girl at the bar and take them to a room for fantastic, guilt-free sex.
Note: No matter what fantasy you are participating in, other members may be cashing in their fantasy at the same time. Our servers and schedulers coordinate this to ensure everyone gets a chance to participate as much as they would like. We encourage every member to sign up for multiple fantasies. This gives you more chances to find a matching participant. We also encourage every member to sign up for at least one or more types of traditional fantasies so they can be sure they can cash in their Step 3 Fantasy every month. It isn’t usually a problem, but availability is all membership driven.
How is this legal, you ask? We operate a worldwide database. For members to be entered into t
he database they must pay their fees and get their health certificates certified; we help match them up with a complimentary member who’s looking for the same fantasy. We provide the location, be it a bedroom, washroom, a mock bar full of patrons (no kidding) or anything else you can imagine. We also provide videographers, lighting and sound folks who can help you make this a moment to remember.
If you’re looking for something more private, we can record through two-way glass, or by remote cameras. No matter what, though, it is recorded. That is how we ensure two things; first, we are not accused of prostitution. We provide a service and a database that is used worldwide. Secondly, if we are giving the folks involved copies of the fantasy, they can save it to relish and remember for later.
The video is immediately burned to DVD and provided to the customers. The recording is non-negotiable with our members, though; it protects all parties involved. It gives both the membership and Fantasy Inc. “artistic license”. Those who are married must have spousal consent on every fantasy they sign up for. There are no members of a fantasy who are “paid help”; everyone here who participates in the fantasy is a member, even if they are there to help set the mood for an evening dinner, or taking a more… active part in the fantasy.
The rules are simple. You must be healthy, disease- and drug-free, fill out a questionnaire, checking off what you are willing to do and what is off limits, and provide the spousal consent form (unless their own membership implies consent). And remember, at any time, “stop means stop”—and we will enforce this rule. People can get scared and change their minds. They will provide us with safe words to know they want out of the fantasy in case things get out of hand. Just remember, those guards at the front door checking membership aren’t the only ones.
Finally, we promise the utmost privacy. Our servers have the best encryption money can buy. Your privacy is even more safe and secure than in most servers that any government can come up with. Records and videos are recorded here. We have members worldwide, many including government officials, royalty and the movers and shakers of major businesses and of course regular every day people.
We will contact you regarding available fantasies by an encrypted text message sent to your smart phone using our proprietary application. You can make your reservations, review profiles of members who have made a request, or confirm an appointment through this application. As with any electronic device, we encourage you to password-protect your main screen, and we will provide you a password to use to decode the text messages.
Thank you for considering Fantasy Inc.
Chapter 14
Frustratingly enough, dreams of the summer house haunted me nightly. The days that followed signing up at Fantasy Inc. were rather anti-climactic. I hadn’t heard anything back from them, and I was starting to think the whole night was a drunken dream or fantasy.
Taking care of my mother wasn’t as bad as I had feared, and she was very mobile. She wanted somebody around in case she slipped or fell, hurting herself. Pretty easy stuff.
I talked to Jan daily, and she was as disappointed as I was that I hadn’t heard back, and I was feeling guilty about her using that card, spending that money. What was I thinking? I was some religious freak who’d had a slip of faith. Maybe I shouldn’t have blown off Michael, but Melinda’s description of Alex still gave me tingles. I knew he had to be older, but somehow I didn’t care. I’d gone though the “Catalog of Kink,” as many folks called it.
He was one of the guys who didn’t hold back; his pictures were un-blurred and right out there. Somehow, someway, I knew I was being pathetic for wanting somebody I’d never met, and furthermore, somebody who’d never met me.
It was about ten days after I signed up that Daddy answered a call and handed the phone off to me.
“Caroline, some doctor is on the phone for you,” he said, handing me the handset.
“Hello?”
“Is this Caroline Smith?” a voice with an Indian accent asked me.
“Yes, yes it is,” I told him, and I just knew it was Dr. Gupta, from the club.
“Can you please verify your social security number and driver’s license numbers, or come to the clinic where you recently signed up?” he said, deliberately vague.
“Yes, hold on a moment, let me get my purse,” I told him, going to my bedroom. A stab of fear went through me. If the physical was clear [?] I wouldn’t be getting a phone call, would I?
I finally found my driver’s license and read him off the numbers, and gave him my social security number from memory.
“Good, thank you. Now are you on a phone where we can talk frankly?”
“Oh my God, something’s wrong, isn’t it?” The fear was in my voice, right out there.
“Oh, nothing wrong so much, but there’s a delicate condition that I felt you might not be aware of, and it may affect your decision to pursue your membership here.”
My heart dropped, and I fought back a sob. A condition?
“What’s wrong, Doctor?”
“Well, on your checklist, we asked if you are pregnant and you said no, but the testing we ran shows that you are. I felt that if you didn’t know this when you signed up perhaps you were unaware.”
“Pregnant? Are you sure?” I asked him in a shocked voice.
“Oh yes, very sure.”
Of all the things that worried me, this one wasn’t even on my radar. Cancer, an STD from Derek and Daniel, a skin condition, anything but that; but if I’d had more than a few seconds to consider what it was, I might have thought of it. Silently, I wept, trying to slow my breathing while the doctor waited patiently on the other end.
“If you didn’t already know, I apologize for your finding out this way, but depending on your last sexual encounter…”
“It was about three weeks back, when I was up at the summer house,” I told him, trying not to sob out loud.
“Yes, so it is a certain thing,” he told me softly.
I thanked him and hung up the phone, wiping my eyes. Standing there in my doorway was my mother, her face stony, her skin ashen.
“You slut, you went up to the summer house for some sort of ‘rendezvous,’” she told me, using her fingers to sarcastically make quote marks in the air.
“Mother…” I told her, letting the sobs out. It was too much, the revelation and my mother’s anger.
“I always knew you’d end up like this. The moment I let your father talk me out of something, you go and wind up pregnant. What am I going to tell the ladies at the church? It’s bad enough that you’ve refused to go for years. The scandal this will bring down upon us,” she ranted.
“Get out of my room,” I tried to tell her loudly, but my voice cracked. She walked over and grabbed me by the hair, dragging me to the mirror on top of the dresser.
“Not until you look in that mirror, and see yourself for what you are. Slut, whore, harlot. Do you even know the baby’s father’s name?”
“Mother, let go,” I said, struggling, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see my dad in the doorway with a shocked expression on his face.
“What’s going on here?” he demanded.
“Your slut of a daughter is pregnant, probably from when you let her go up to the summer house,” she said, shoving me towards my dad, strands of my hair still stuck in her fist as I stumbled his way.
“Is this true, Caroline?” He asked me solemnly.
“Yes, Dad, I’m pregnant,” I told him.
“Who’s the baby’s father?” he asked, probably with visions of a shotgun wedding forming in his mind.
“It doesn’t matter, they’re both gone,” I told him, and trust me, I didn’t think to let that slip out, because my father flinched away from me.
“They? As in plural? What the hell has gotten into you?” he asked me.
Crying, I ran to my car, ignoring their shouts. I was backing out of the driveway when the cell phone buzzed, and I fished it out. I was going to send my mother to voicemail when I saw it wasn’
t them trying to call me back in, it was Janice.
I tried to answer the phone, but a sob escaped instead.
“Caroline, is everything OK?”
“Jan, can I come over?” I asked her, praying she was home.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in ten minutes,” she told me.
“OK, it’ll take me longer than that to get there,” I told her, mentally calculating traffic and distance. I figured I had thirty minutes.
“What’s going on, is it your parents?”
“No, the doctor called me from the club,” I told her, wiping tears and mascara out of my eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m pregnant,” I told her.
Later that evening, we were both cuddled on the couch under a blanket and we sat and talked long into the night. Once I got over the shock, I was actually calmer about it than I had any right to be. We talked about trying to get hold of Daniel and Derek, but when we tried their satellite phone, nothing went through. I thought it was worth a shot, and I vowed to myself to tell them somehow, someday.
“Do you want to stay here with me for a while?”
“If you don’t mind, Jan; things got ugly with my parents.”
“That’ll be great. Does finding out you’re pregnant change how you feel about things?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you going to lay some profound, come-to-Jesus type of guilt trip on me?”
I laughed; it just hit me funny for some reason. “No, if anything, I keep thinking of that old joke.”
“Which one?”
“The difference between a light bulb and a pregnant girl.”
“OK, what’s the difference?”
“You can unscrew the light bulb,” I told her, almost sobbing and laughing with the same breath. My emotions were all over the board, though.
“You know, being pregnant may actually get you laid more,” she told me with a grin.
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