Lester's Keeper

4) Welcome to the Club

Maggie regarded him oddly as she unclasped her purse and handed their phones to the door lady.  He wondered what that look had meant.  Had she thought he would back out?  Hoped he would back out?  Was that why she had agreed in the first place, perhaps?  This idea tickled him.  He hoped it might be true.  She clearly didn't get the memo regarding who she was dealing with.

Lester pulled Maggie tight to him.  "No turning back now."  He grinned.  "Let's do it, Babe."

The door-lady stood aside and pulled the door slowly open, the music's volume gradually increasing with its outward swing.  "Mood music," he whispered to Maggie, pulling her with him.

They crossed the threshold into the barn and his eyes widened.  Once inside, the place transformed.  It was completely repurposed, a jarring contrast to the rustic exterior in both styling and apparent utilization. 

Before them was an open floor upon which he could make out a number of couples moving amongst the shadows in a display that formed a dark mosaic of frank and explicit sexuality.  The sounds and sights and smells were unfamiliar and arcane.  Lester's wide eyes darted about the scene, hungry to absorb what he could from it.  The floor was carpeted in something dark and soft and luxurious.  Atop this inviting layer, various stations were set up to facilitate coitus. Each had its own illumination from gently glowing bulbs or chandeliers that fell down from the darkness of the rafters.    The dim lighting generated islands of illumination that fell quickly into darkness beyond their narrow radii.

The closest and most discernible station consisted of deep shag-pile rug upon which a young and sculpted lady rested, fully naked, legs in the air, head tilted backwards with the eyes staring directly at the new arrivals.  Her lip curled upward in a feline growl of pleasure.  Before her, wearing her legs over his shoulders and bathed in shadow knelt what appeared to be an older gent.  He was similarly disrobed.  His hands gripped her waist and he thrust at her rhythmically.  The warm smacking of his hips against her spiked and fell amongst the sounds of the music.  They went about their work oblivious to the intrusion of the world around them.  A grin broke out on Lester's face.

At another station, a woman was bent woodenly over a chair with her dress pulled up about her waist while a middle-aged lady in high-heeled shoes and ill-fitting lingerie paddled her pallid behind with something resembling a table-tennis racquet.  The recipient appeared still and silent while her dominatrix grunted with each connection of the paddle and barked occasional obscenities into the air as she grasped roughly at her own breasts using her free hand, angry nail marks standing out upon them even despite the dim illumination.  One wayward swing of the paddle struck the cast iron of the overhead chandelier and set the light into chaotic rolling motion, like some Gothic version of dance floor lighting. It was only the shifting of the light as it arced slowly back to rest that revealed the paddling victim's hand protruding from beneath her, wrist cocked, fingers grasping the scrotum of an intimidating rubber member, deftly driving it into herself as the paddle's action sent her fanny quivering.

At a third visible position, a dark-skinned woman lay on the floor, her legs pulled high in stirrups that hung from unseen fixings above.  Another female participant kneeled upon the floor, buttocks high in the air exposing sanguine, gaping and glistening womanhood as her arms locked beneath and through the bent legs of her partner.  Her head was buried in the other's crotch, shaking in a furious blur as the recipient tore frantically at her hair, forcing the face deeper between her thighs and emitting breathy wails of pleasure that crescendoed and were absorbed by the room.

Lester realized his heart was thumping and he had forgotten to breath.  He hungered to unearth more of what the shadows hid.  He felt like an intruder upon the scene. A peeping Tom.  A voyeur. It was as if he gained some power through his observance. The ability to point, to degrade, almost. 
"Holy crap," he said to the room.  He realized that he was salivating, the words coming out thick and laden. He looked at Maggie, mouth agape but she only offered her quiet smile. 

To either side of the entryway, polished steps led up to a raised wooden platform that ran along three sides of the building's perimeter.  The door-lady leaned to them and gestured to the steps.  "Please find a booth and make yourselves comfortable.  View until your heart's content.  Mrs. Knight will be along to introduce herself any minute now, so don't  join the floor until then."

The raised perimeter of the building sat perhaps eight feet above the main floor.  It formed a kind of balcony that surrounded the floor and created a viewing platform for other revelers.  Each of the viewing sections contained a number of seating booths.  These were wooden structures, high-walled and horseshoe shaped.  The open front provided access to users and a view of the floor, while the closed back and sides created both seating and seclusion.  Steps led from each booth to the main floor and a single light hung behind each, providing meager illumination and casting the booths in shadow.  Lester could make out unidentified individuals occupying a number of the booths.  

The first of the booths they reached appeared unoccupied and Lester approached it, pulling Maggie alongside him.  The structure appeared to be a single piece of wood with a small table within.  They slid around the bench style seat and looked out upon the floor before and beneath them.  There was a single candle on each of the tables.  Lester allowed his eyes to wander about the main floor, taking in the sights and peering to see more of what the shadows held.  All about them were the scenes and the sounds of sexual acts performed openly and casually. He made out groups of twos or threes or sometimes more being penetrated, devoured or ravished by one another.   He noted with approval that females appeared to outnumber males quite favorably. It was unlike anything Lester had ever seen or even imagined. The scene possessed a dreamlike surrealism with its unfamiliar juxtaposition of sights and sounds playing out within touching distance.

Even in the presence of such exotic sights, Lester did not forget the evening's ultimate goal.  He pulled Maggie close in a reassuring embrace. "Told you that you'd be the hottest one here," he whispered to her.  He was readying to deliver another carefully crafted line of reassurance when he was interrupted.

"Mr. and Mrs. Latroy," a voice said. 

"Welcome to our little club."

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I hope Lester and Maggie are keeping you entertained. 

Things are about to get really interesting!

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Thank you all!

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