As we travelled to Club o-X-o our conversation was uncertain. We couldn’t help but wonder why Brenda wanted us to visit a club with a female minder, and why Donna had to dress like she had. All I could say to Karen was Brenda was educating me about her adult world; and the opportunities that came with being sexual with other women.
“Maybe she was trying to shock us, or see how we react,” I suggested.
“Well, I am going to enjoy it,” Karen somewhat surprisingly stated. Then reacted to me looking at her, by adding, “We only going to be there an hour, observing. Let’s just enjoy it!”
I took my girlfriend’s advice, knowing this was part of being Brenda’s official girlfriend and she must be doing it for a good reason.
It turned out that the club was in the dock area and only a ten-minute walk from Karen’s home; though she didn’t know it was there. Club o-X-o location was on the edge of the seedier part of town, the red-light district; about a mile down the hill from “The Rainbow Bar.”
Club o-X-o was in a nondescript, brick-built building and if Donna hadn’t been driving, we would have driven straight past. The featureless structure was so discreet it looked almost derelict especially as all its windows had been bricked up. The only sign of life was a single, dull red light above a black metal security door and a few cars in the front car park.
“We are here girls,” Donna announced over the intercom, and then she lowered the privacy screen.
“I know it doesn’t look much from the outside, but that is done for a reason. I assure you both it is very plush inside. Remember, unlike Rainbows, this club is for members only and, as you know Clare, all those members are women. So relax and enjoy. But first, there are a couple of things things”
“While Karen is dressed perfectly, Clare you going to have to lose those jeans. There is a strict dress code, which says denim is not allowed.”
“I can’t go in there naked,” I quickly retorted, wondering where this was going, though my response seemed to only produce a chuckle from Karen.
“You are lucky, Clare. Brenda has supplied these.”
Donna passed me a large shoulder bag, which I opened. Inside was a pair of black shorts, the material matching my bustier. A wide, metal zip seemed to divide them symmetrically as it ran from the front, under my crutch and stopped only with a couple of inches of material left.
“What sort of club is o-X-o?” I questioned as I held the shorts up.
“It’s a ladies' club, Clare, and do not worry, others will be dressed like you.”
I looked at Karen. She was giggling again, notwithstanding the fact we were about to enter a lesbian fetish club. She seemed not to care. It now looked like my girlfriend had decided to enjoy herself despite whatever happened to me.
With everyone watching, I slipped the baggy jeans off and then went to take my fake cock off, only to be told by Donna that tonight that was part of me. So I carefully zipped up my shorts, pushing my piece to the right. It was luck that the shorts were long enough to fully cover it, but it was now obvious I was packing a nice bulge.
There seemed nothing else in the bag for my top, my nipples still on show for all to see. I looked around for my blouse. I couldn’t see it and realised that I had left it on the back of the chair at the hotel.
“I can’t go in like this,” I stated, though the walk was almost in the dark, the only genuine light coming from two distant street lights.
Donna smiled and then gave me two black pads to slip into the cups of my bustier. They may have obscured my nipples, but also made my breasts look even larger. To me, they looked huge.
With the jeans now gone, I stepped out of the safety of the car. As I did so, my eyes followed my long bare leg down to my new silver anklet. Our three names, Brenda’s at the top, mine in the middle and Karen's name hanging under it. The silver stood out, catching the limo’s door light; I knew tonight that my sexuality was on show for all to view.
Donna pushed a buzzer, and a few seconds later the shutter opened in the door. A pair of eyes appeared, which scanned us before there was a click and we were ushered inside.
Standing in front of us was a tall, slender, middle-aged lady with black hair cut into a short bob. She was wearing a black, low-cut halter-top jumpsuit; it was very nineteen-seventies. The suit's body was pulled tight at her waist, before flaring out as it ran down her long legs.
“I am Millie, the manager here,” she announced with a smile. “Welcome to the o-X-o Club,” she said as she acknowledged Donna.
“So you must be Clare,” she queried whilst looking at me. “I see Brenda was right. You are exceedingly beautiful.”
I felt myself blushing, which I knew was not in character with the one I was meant to be playing tonight. But I did manage to say, “This is the gorgeous Karen, my girlfriend,” and then I held my right ankle out to show my anklet as if that explained it all. Millie looked, then smiled and nodded as if she understood, though I wasn’t sure.
It came as no surprise that Donna was already a member when she showed her card. I followed suit by showing my newly acquired one and then paid Karen’s twenty-pound entrance fee, before signing her in by using a false name. I didn’t know her family name. I had never asked, though I vowed to find out later.
“Clare and Karen, welcome to Club o-X-o. You come on the right night, as I have time to show you around. Wednesday is always the best night for a first visit. Brenda has told me all about the two of you.”
We followed Millie, the club’s front door, now left to another lady whom the manager had called from the front office.
I don’t know if it was me wearing the piece, or the fact that I was already horny, but as Millie spoke, I found my eyes wanted to dart around her body. Checking her out and in part undressing her. My mind began wondering if she was a lesbian, in a relationship, or if she had sex with other members.
I then realised Millie was speaking…
“So the club has been going for ten years. Until the late nineteen-seventies, the building was used for shipping offices. You have to be a woman, but you don’t have to be bisexual or a lesbian to be a member here. Though it helps as most members are…”
Millie told us more, a lot more. It was clear she was proud of the club.
I pulled Karen close, partly in case my eyes betrayed how much they were undressing our host, but mainly to make sure she knew she was safe with me; that she knew she was my girl.
With the manager still talking, we followed her past two sets of stairs. On our right, they went upwards into darkness, and on our left, downwards towards music.
“This is the main bathroom,” Millie remarked as she opened a door on our right.
The sudden burst of light from the bathroom gave me a chance to look at Millie’s nipples. They were pressing hard through the thin jumpsuit material.
The manager caught my stare and smiled. She knew. We followed her through into the darkened rear of the building. It was a bar, come dance floor area, and it was clear that tonight it was not open.
“We don’t use this floor on Wednesdays; we like to keep it compact by just using the basement. But it is always open on Thursdays through to Saturdays or if we hold a function here.”
We returned to the entrance corridor and Millie flicked a light switch on, which illuminated the upward stairs.
“Remember these switches as you might need them if you come up here,” she said as she walked up. My eyes were staring at her tight bottom. You couldn’t miss it, as it was right in front of our faces.
My pussy moistened. I was horny, and my mind wondering if Millie liked anal play.
“Up here is a private area, and another bathroom. We only really use it for functions and lap dances.” Millie pointed to four private booths with doors. I noticed each room was large, with a horseshoe bench seat and, interestingly, a pole in the middle.
Lap dances, I thought as Karen and I glanced at one another. I had heard of them, but I thought they only happened in gentlemen’s establishments.
“We also use this room for daytime dance and pole dancing classes. If either of you are interested, I have leaflets in the front office.”
I was interested, but I wasn’t sure I could afford it. More importantly, I asked myself if this was the sort of place I wanted to come to dance. It felt exciting, strange, enticing, and dangerous.
The club building wasn’t massive, maybe fifty feet wide, one hundred feet long, and it was dark; the upper two floors were only lit tonight with a few dull red rope lights. But there was something about it, a certain charm that made me like the place. However, one thing was for certain; it wasn’t either opulent or obsessive as the club’s name had suggested.
We finally walked towards the music and descended to the basement level, which was surprisingly fairly busy, even though the club had not been open long.
“These are our Wednesday regulars,” Millie stated. “Without them, the club would struggle to open four days a week.”
There were approximately twenty-five customers scattered around. Most seemed to be dressed in what I could only call erotic costumes and they were all women. That wasn’t a surprise, as Millie had said on our tour, “We are all girls here.” She had explained that while the club was exclusively for ladies, it was also firstly a fetish club. It was apparently the only one in the South of England.
My attire fitted in perfectly, while there were five or so, other ladies wearing something similar to Karen’s little black dress. The rest wore leather, stockings, corsets, and even eccentric and outrageous attire. It made me feel strangely at home.
The basement level was quite different from the two above. First, there were the people and then there was the lighting. It was subtle and moody and seemed to bathe light in all the right places, the bar and the stage in a dull yellow, the rest an insipid red. The furniture was leather, yes, a little more opulent, but certainly not a palace. As I looked around, I imagined this place buzzing late on a Saturday night.
With Millie in the lead, we went to the bar. In doing so, I was aware of the other clientele watching us, twenty-five sets of eyes on the newbies.
“This is Macy,” Millie said, as we stood by the bar. “I leave you in her capable hands.” Macy was working the bar. She had a pink tutu on, a white leotard, and white hold-up stockings. I tried not to grin but then remembered what I was wearing.
I ordered two large white wines; Donna didn’t want anything alcoholic as she was driving. She also decided to remain at the bar to give us space. With our newfound freedom, Karen and I sat on a leather couch near the stairs. It gave me the chance to look around, people watch and for Karen and I to talk freely.
“What do think of this place?” I asked, not knowing what I thought of the club myself.
“It feels weird. I certainly wouldn’t come here by myself,” Karen remarked and then moved closer to me.
I agreed and put my arm around her, feeling protective of my girlfriend. Yet, I couldn’t stop watching the young blonde woman wrapping her body around a pole as she danced on the stage. I hadn’t dared tell anyone, but I have always had a little thing for blonde girls. I thought of Jaz, after all, it had been her blonde pubes that had originally attracted me to her.
“She good, isn’t she?” Karen whispered.
I agreed, though I thought with a little practice I could do just as well. I hadn’t told Karen, Brenda, or for that matter, David that I used to dance to an under-eighteen national competition standard.
We just sat there, observing the young dancer go through her routine. It didn’t take long for my eyes to undress her. She only wore a small white string bikini as her top seemed to of disappeared halfway through her routine.
As she danced, a few of the audience members put money into a little box which was to one side of the stage. I did the same, telling Karen that it was Brenda’s money. The routine ended with the blonde bending over. Her tight bottom faced the crowd, the G-string bikini disappearing into the crevice between her firm ass cheeks. It was a move which brought a wave of applause from the audience.
With the show over, Donna came over and told us that sometimes the shows are more explicit, or even comical, with stand-up comedians.
With our wine now consumed and the conversation not private, I asked Karen, “Have you seen enough?” Thinking she might want to go home, though we had not been there an hour.
“There is something I want to do. How much is left of your other girlfriend's money?”
“Just over eighty pounds,” I replied, wondering what she had in mind.
With that, Karen whispered something to Donna, who nodded and disappeared, only to return two minutes later and say something to Karen. They were actions which I didn’t understand, but they had spiked my pique.
What were they up to? I asked myself.
It was only a few moments later that I had my answer, Donna leading the way, Karen pulling me by the hand. We climbed both flights of stairs up to the top floor. Then slipped into the nearest of the four private booths, where I was told by Donna to sit on the horseshoe bench seat. She then turned on some low lighting and closed the booth door with a thud.
Karen smiled at me, and then told me, “I hope you got fifty pounds ready. I saw how you were so eager to give ten pounds of Brenda’s money to the blonde pole dancer. Now it is time to spend some of her money on me.”
“I always wanted to try something like this. Maybe it is not pole dancing, but I think you will enjoy it. Donna, please sit next to Clare.”
She did as told.
“Oh, and there is something else. I think it is time to remind you who she came with; I saw you looking at our host… Remember, I am gorgeous or as I would put it; I am your hot little girlfriend.” Karen giggled. “But first Clare, it is time to get your cock out. I have been waiting to see it all night.”
