Club Fantasy

by Joan Elizabeth Lloyd

  Jenna sat back, deep in thought. “I guess you’re right. What Chloe and I have done so far has been a lark. You’re talking about a business.”

  “I certainly am. If you want to continue on a lark, as you put it, that’s fine and it can work for you. But, if you want to make real money, hire employees, and in every way expand Club Fantasy to something larger, that means records, bookkeeping, taxes, health plans if you want that, schedules, and lots of psychology. It’s not easy and it takes lots of time and energy.”

  She had both, but did she want to spend them on a major business? “I gather.” She thought about Marcy and her lists. Could Jenna become as organized as her sister? It was obvious that, if she and Chloe wanted to make Club Fantasy a success on a bigger scale, Chloe couldn’t take on the responsibility. She could.

  Erika spent the next hour explaining the intricacies of the business to Jenna. She offered to demonstrate her computer programs for scheduling, tracking employee hours, and, most important, collecting and cataloging customer preferences. “I’ll give you copies of anything you need. I’ll even show you how to dial into my system from your home phone and check on whether a particular man has been my client and what his specific tastes are.”

  “Why are you being so generous? We’ve just met, after all.”

  “Many years ago someone I cared about very much was as generous to me in similar circumstances. Valerie’s in Dallas now and I’m trying to close my business.”

  “I can’t believe you’re quitting. You’re a legend.” When she watched Erika’s eyes widen, she realized what she’d said. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  Erika’s chuckle was warm and friendly. “I’m not at all insulted. I’m a happy woman now. Stuart’s the love of my life and my daughter’s pregnant with my first grandchild. I’m ready to be a plain old housewife, in the best sense of the word.”

  Her voice filled with her surprise as Jenna said, “You’re going to be a grandmother?”

  “Yup. After lots of years of estrangement, Rena and her husband Alex are living in Westchester, and we’re very close. I’m trying to resist buying every piece of baby stuff I see, but I’ve already got a few things put away.”

  “That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”

  “It’s good news for you too. I’m more than glad to help you get started but you have to want it. Consider what you expected when we met. I’m a madam, although I prefer courtesan, and with that label comes lots of negatives.”

  “I’ve thought about that. I don’t think I could even tell my sister what I’d be doing.”

  “That’s the problem. I had a hell of a time when my daughter found out about Courtesans, Inc.”

  “It obviously all worked out.”

  Erika shook her head sadly. “Not without lots of problems.”

  “Why do men do it?”

  “Pay? Because they want something they can’t get at home. It’s just that simple. Either they don’t have anyone, or they think their partner isn’t interested in what they want. Sadly, many times the husband or wife would be more than willing to play but the couple just can’t communicate. However, that’s not our responsibility.”

  “Any more advice?”

  “Lots.” Erika took a sip of her wine and signaled the waiter. She looked at Jenna. “Coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  Erika waggled two fingers and the waiter hustled off. “Okay. If you’re going to entertain as a professional, there are lots of things I can tell you. From the business end, I suggest that you never entertain anyone you don’t know either personally or through someone you trust. There are too many weirdos and cops out there.”

  “Cops. That’s scares the shit out of me.”

  “It should, if only to make you wary. I’ve never had a problem. Courtesans, Inc., identifies itself as an entertainment corporation. We take clients to dinner and entertain them. If there’s sex afterwards, that’s not part of the package, and it’s difficult for the cops to get their teeth into that unless they’ve been ‘entertained.’

  “I pay my employees properly, with all taxes taken out, and I file all the forms with the IRS.

  “From the personal side, be charming, interested, and get to know your client and all his desires. The more you know the happier he’ll be. I say he, but, as I said, don’t overlook female clients. Eventually you might want to employ men as entertainers for women.”

  “Do you?”

  “Of course. Actually my son-in-law worked for me several years ago. That’s where he met my daughter.”

  Jenna was having a hard time taking it all in. Prostitutes of both sexes with families and private lives just like real people. “Shit. It’s all incestuous.”

  The corners of Erika’s mouth turned up. “It is a bit, isn’t it. Cleanliness, sweet breath, deodorant and diaphragms for those days of the month are all important.” The two women talked for another hour, consuming several cups of wonderful hazelnut coffee.

  “You haven’t done it yet, have you,” Erika said suddenly.

  Unable to deny it, Jenna shook her head and told her about her evening playing doctor.

  “How wonderful. I’ll bet the guy was in heaven. Making the final jump into intercourse for money is like crossing the Rubicon. After that, it’s all fun and games, with the emphasis on the games. You’ve obviously decided to do it.”

  “I still vacillate but I think I’ve made the decision.”

  “Just thinking isn’t enough. As I said, it’s a gigantic step, at least it was for me. Some woman can do it without much soul searching but for us—pardon me for assuming I know you but I think I do—it’s not just doing it. It’s an entire change of attitude and you have to be sure. Once you’re sure, go for it in every way and don’t second guess yourself.”

  “You sound just like Chloe.”

  “When and if you are sure, straighten your backbone and give whoever the guy turns out to be the best fuck he’s ever had. Then continue to do that every time.”

  Early that evening the phone rang. “Hi, Jenna, it’s Glen.”

  Jenna dropped into a kitchen chair. “Hello, Glen,” she said, schooling her voice to be cheerful and impersonal. “It’s good to hear from you.”

  “I thought it would be okay to call. After all, it’s been four months.”

  “Has it been that long?” Jenna said, knowing full well how long it had been. “I got the flowers. Thanks so much. They are lovely.”

  “I know. Marcy told me. How are things in the big city?”

  Keeping her voice light, Jenna told Glen about her life in New York, carefully omitting any reference to the topic at the front of her mind. It was difficult to keep the two sides of her brain clearly separated, one steeped in sex and the future of Club Fantasy, the other a small-town girl with an old lover back home. Home? No. Her home was here now.

  “So you’re enjoying yourself,” Glen said.

  “I really am. I just love New York. I know I must sound like a commercial, but I’m happy here.”

  She heard his hesitation. He’s not going to ask whether I’m coming back. He doesn’t want to hear my answer. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

  “How are things back in the Gateway to the Finger Lakes?”

  “Things here are great.” He spent five minutes filling her in on office gossip and the goings on at AAJ, much of which she already knew from her sister but she let him ramble.

  “Sounds like things there are about the same,” Jenna said, when he’d wound down.

  “The same, but really quite interesting.”

  “I’m sure they are,” Jenna said politely. It sounded as exciting as a church social.

  “Well, I guess I’ll be going now. Can I call from time to time, just as a friend?”

  She put all the warmth she could into her voice. “Of course you can, Glen. As a friend.”

  Chloe walked in as she hung up the phone. “You don’t look so good. Bad news?”

  “Not really,” Jenna said. “Th
at was Glen.”

  “The old boyfriend?”

  “Yeah. He called as a friend, he says, to say hello.”

  “And?”

  She propped an elbow on the table, chin resting on her palm. “Lots of old stuff. I feel guilty, as if I led him on, then dropped him. He still sounds lost and I couldn’t seem to tell him straight out to give it up.”

  “Did you love him, way back when?”

  Jenna shook her head slowly, then said, “I don’t really know, Chloe. I thought I did, but when he asked me to marry him I freaked. Now that I’m here I can’t imagine going back to the kind of life I had there.”

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Ever.” Chloe sat across from Jenna. “Did you talk to Erika?”

  “We had quite a lunch. She’s an amazing woman.”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t join you.”

  Chloe’s work schedule made weekday daytime plans impossible, and Erika couldn’t make it any other time. “I’m sorry too. You would have liked her a lot. She’s a real person, and I don’t use that term lightly.” Jenna relayed most of Erika’s conversation, then said, “Sometime during the conversation I think I made my decision. I’m ready to go through with this nutty idea. The whole Club Fantasy thing.”

  “Did you tell Erika about it? She might be competition.”

  “Yes, I did, and no, she’s not. She loved the idea and even suggested that we set up a few rooms in the house as specialty areas. Keep the doctor’s office and the motel room, maybe make a Western room, and even create a dungeon.” Jenna vividly remembered that part of their discussion:

  “If you’re really going to fulfill fantasies,” Erika had said, “you need a room for dominant and submissive games and someone who knows how to use it.”

  “Like what?”

  “Let me suggest that you rent some videos about bondage, discipline, and such. Then you can set up a room, a basement if you have one, for folks who want to play with darker fantasies.”

  “There are men who want that?”

  “You are really new to this.” Erika had smiled indulgently. “Lots and lots of men either want to be dominated or want to dominate. You need to read a few books on the subject and watch lots of movies. Your education is sorely lacking.”

  “I guess so.”

  “One important thing. If you’re going to play with BDSM fantasies, you need to screen your clients extra carefully. You can’t afford to make a mistake. One error in judgement might be one too many. Trust your stomach, then check everything once more. If you have any doubts, say no. It never hurts to turn down a customer. There are always more.”

  “Phew,” Chloe said in the kitchen. “I never thought about it like that.”

  Jenna glanced at the counter. “I picked up a few books Erika recommended, then went to the video store and rented lots of movies. We really should watch a bunch, then consider what she said about a dungeon. We could use the basement.”

  “You’re really getting into this. It’ll take a lot of time and muscle to get it cleaned up but I think it’s a great idea.” Chloe pulled a movie called Bondage Sluts from the plastic bag on the table. “You said she’s phasing out her business. Are you sure she won’t be competition?”

  “Not only is she ending Courtesans, Inc.,” Jenna said, staring at the cover of another video, one that showed a shapely woman in a leather bathing suit and thigh-high boots, a whip in one hand, standing over a man with his hands and feet bound, his smooth, white ass covered with red welts, “but she’ll even let us use her computer system and employ some of her people if we want.”

  “Whoa. Computer system?” She made an X of her fingers. “Not me. That will be your department. I’m hopeless. The Erika thing sounds too good to be true.”

  “She seems to be a happily married woman, ready to get out of the business. I think she’s just hanging on for the people who depend on her, both employees and customers.”

  “That’s fantastic. Okay. Let me grab a bite of dinner, and then we can watch some of these films on the big-screen TV.”

  While the two women ate, Jenna thumbed through one of the sex books, this one based on the joys of the BDSM lifestyle. As she flipped pages, she realized that she’d already begun to think of this as a business, not prostitution. Certainly she’d be selling her body. No, she corrected herself, renting her body. But what was the harm? Erika seemed to have come out of it all a happy, together person. Why not her? Why not indeed?

  Together, Chloe and Jenna watched four videos trying not to laugh at the poor quality of the acting and the visibly faked whippings. But the atmosphere was real and it was obvious that lots of men did get off being tied, spanked, humiliated, and possibly even wounded. “I don’t think I could really hurt someone,” Jenna said with a sigh.

  “I don’t know,” Chloe said. “I think I could. I might be dynamite as a midget power wielder.”

  “You’re right,” Jenna said, brightening. “I hadn’t thought about that but someone with your lush body and small stature would be a knock out—pardon the pun. Have you ever tried it?”

  Chloe actually blushed. “Yes, with one guy I knew.”

  When she didn’t continue, Jenna asked, “Did you have fun? Did you dress up?” When Chloe nodded, sheepishly, she continued. “Do you still have the costume?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said, looking slightly sheepish, “and lots more.”

  “You never told me about that side of you.”

  “Actually, it never came up and it’s not something you drag into a conversation by its heels.”

  “I guess not,” Jenna said. “I don’t think I could do any of that, money or no money.”

  “You’d be amazed at what you’d do if it turned someone on. It’s like being drugged. You see his excitement and you’d do anything to make it even better. Before I first spanked a man I didn’t think I’d like it either but when push came to shove, if you’ll pardon the pun, it was wonderful. He got so excited that he came without my even touching him, except where he lay across my thighs.”

  “I’d love to hear about it. Was it like the movies we just watched?”

  “Not at all. Rick was here from Oregon and I met him through work. We had dinner together and finished a wonderful bottle of cabernet. Needless to say, I was loose and horny. When he suggested we go back to his hotel room I was more than ready.”

  Chloe and Rick walked into his hotel room and Rick ordered a bottle of champagne from room service. The room was actually a suite, and they settled in the living area, Rick on a straight chair and Chloe on the sofa. While they waited they continued a conversation they’d been having in the taxi, getting into a heated argument about the way a current court case should be prosecuted. “He’s just a kid,” Chloe said. “He should be treated like a kid and his parents should be horsewhipped.”

  Suddenly, Rick seemed to get flustered and, as he cleared his throat and squirmed in his chair, the waiter knocked at the door. Rick let him in and signed the room-service check while the white-jacketed server opened the bottle and filled two glasses.

  After the waiter left, Rick and Chloe clinked glasses and, while she sipped, he downed the entire glass. He poured another, cleared his throat again and said, “You really think so? About the kid’s parents, I mean.”

  “Sorry,” Chloe said, wondering why the guy was suddenly so flustered. “I forgot what I said.”

  Again Rick coughed. “You said the parents should be horsewhipped.”

  “Right. It’s really their fault that the kid got into so much trouble.”

  He cleared his throat again. “Would you horsewhip anyone whose kids got into trouble?” he asked, his voice hoarse and low.

  “I guess so,” Chloe said, confused and disappointed. She had thought they had come to his room to have sex. Her panties were wet and she was anxious to get to it. Now he wouldn’t stop talking about this court case.

  “What if one of my kids, uh, did something like that?”

  Slowly t
he light dawned. “I guess I’d have to horsewhip you,” she said, a coy smile now spreading over her face. She’d never actually hurt anyone, but she had dated a man several months before who had liked to be swatted on the ass as he was about to come. She was starting to get the message Rick was sending.

  “Would you? What if you didn’t have a horsewhip?”

  Chloe looked at Rick carefully. His hands were trembling, his chest heaving as if he’d run several miles, and his eyes downcast. She didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know what was going on. “I guess my hand would have to do.”

  “Oh,” he said.

  “It would be even worse if you’d been bad yourself. Have you?”

  Chloe watched his body shrink, his shoulders droop, and his chin fall against his chest. “Maybe.”

  Making her voice sound stern, she said, “Don’t give me any maybes, have you been bad?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Shit. She could feel her pussy twitch and fluids sop the crotch of her panties. This game was raising her temperature as much as Rick’s. “I might just have to horsewhip you,” she said, and watched his body jerk.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I might let you off with a spanking if you do a good job.” She sipped her champagne. This was getting to be fun.

  “At what, ma’am?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Chloe stood and slid her slender skirt down. She was not wearing stockings, merely a tiny wisp of lacy panties. She pulled them down as well, then sat on the edge of the sofa, knees spread. She crooked her finger for him to approach. “Crawl over here and see what you can do with my pussy,” she said. “Then we’ll decide on your punishment for being bad.”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am,” he said, scuttling across the brown tweed carpet on his hands and knees. Somehow it was even more exciting for Chloe since he was still wearing a three-piece suit, white shirt and tie. As he approached, she grabbed the back of his head and pressed his face into her crotch.