Message-ID: <60848asstr$1293106208@assm.asstr.org>
From: Thinking Horndog <im_a_thinker@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} The Pact: Episode 5 -- The Clubhouse 52/57 {Thiniking Horndog} (mM oral anal D/s mf Mf ir exhib mc)
Lines: 655
Date: Thu, 23 Dec 2010 07:10:08 -0500
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


Chapter 52



      

<1st attachment, "The_Pact_5.52.txt" begin>

Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: The Pact:  Episode 5 -- The Clubhouse
Part: 52 of 57
Universe: The Pact
Summary: With Amy providing a feminine conscience, the boys clean up their
act somewhat and employ new recruiting methods -- at a new place.
Content: mM oral anal D/s mf Mf ir exhib mc

Chapter 52


	Antoine's early childhood had been in Haiti -- his family had moved
to the United States when he was five.  In the neighborhoods where he had
lived for the next several years, there was a lot of the whole overcoming the
stigma of being black and coming into one's own in a world where white guys
still generally ran things and everybody seemed to remember when great-great-
granddad was a slave -- but Antoine saw a lot of this from the outside; it
didn't really resonate with him, largely because the older folks who had it
the worst seemed to be blind to the fact that it was all over.

	When Antoine began discovering his sexuality at thirteen, his black
friends discovered it and began rejecting him before he learned to mask
things.  This left him needy -- and white guys were hot, some of them, and
they couldn't seem to see the word 'Queer' tattooed on his forehead like his
black friends did, so he began to hang out with white guys, who sometimes
treated him sort of as a pet or mascot.  Then one day one of his one-time
friends spurned him as he tried to insert himself into a conversation with,
"Get out of here, Antoine!  Why don't you go find yourself a nice, white
massah and suck his dick for him?"  The whole thing kind of snowballed; once
it was started, blacks tended to give him similar shit regularly, and a
fantasy was born.

	Antoine got his first taste of white cock in a dirty men's room at a
park; he'd been hanging out, ogling guys as they stepped up to the trough
urinal and he got a little too obvious with a much older guy who was probably
in his mid-thirties.  The guy was hung and under Antoine's hot eyes, he got
long and thick and hard.  "Like that, do you?" the guy asked.  "Go ahead --
touch it -- you know you want to, you little nigger cocksucker."  Antoine's
hand had moved on its own, reaching out to stroke the hot, hard shaft, and in
no time, Antoine was on his knees in the shadows beside a back stall, sucking
and slurping and jacking himself while the anonymous white guy called him
names while hissing in pleasure.  This guy was a classic -- he knew all about
the nigger slave bullshit and all about queers and believed it all and took
his golden opportunity to be on top and ride herd over a 'black queer' -- and
Antoine, having found a niche that resonated with him, sucked it up with the
guy's cum.

	Antoine took to hanging out at the restroom and other similar places
-- they seemed to attract the kind of nasty white racist hypocrites who would
take advantage of his mouth and his ass while stroking their egos.  Antoine
didn't mind; his ass didn't last a week before it had taken its first cock
and he took to arriving at home late, smelly and sometimes beaten, but
satiated; there was apparently an endless supply of nasty white master
wannabes out there...

	His family couldn't take the embarrassment, and Antoine slowly
realized that he was just too visible in his old neighborhood, so he left
home as soon as he graduated high school and got work in a garage and
training in a tech school.  Cars were wonderful things and he learned how to
tease from them their needs and wants based upon the slim clues they gave and
rose rapidly to the top spot in the garage.  Work and play were separate,
though; Antoine kept a low profile and went hunting for his 'white masters'
in the neighboring town, sometimes surfing public restrooms (which were more
and more dangerous, now that video surveillance was becoming cheap and
plentiful) and the bars whether the leather muscle-type gays hung out.  The
problem was that the muscle gays had their own thing going -- stuff that just
didn't trip Antoine's trigger.

	Antoine was uncertain just how old Hobart found him -- but he did,
and the job offer he made was just too tempting -- especially when he added
the wrinkle of showing Antoine pictures of himself and white guys going at it
and blackmailed him into a suck.  The money Hobart offered was good and the
job brought plenty of leisure time with it and an opportunity to get DEEP
into working on fine, high-end cars, complete with formal training -- and old
Hobart's interest in doing the 'white massah' thing straight out was icing on
the cake.  So Antoine had gone to work for old Hobart, and it had been a
pretty good gig.  Miz Elaine had showed up a couple of weeks after he started
and let him know that she knew EXACTLY what he and old Hobart were doing --
complete with video -- but that it was no harm, no foul; she was feathering
her nest in case old Hobart decided one day to put her out.  Somewhere in the
process it became clear that she might like some black dick sometime -- but
it wouldn't be Antoine's.

	But there'd been a fly in the ointment -- old Hobart was slowly
losing it -- and he knew it.  He was somewhere over forty and Antoine was in
his early twenties and when push came to shove, old Hobart couldn't keep up.
He'd admitted as much, too, recently, climbing off Antoine after an
exceedingly short fuck and wheezing, "I need an overseer to keep you
tuned..."  Also on the agenda, suddenly, had been the distraction of old
Hobart's sudden interest in his daughter Cindy, who he seemed to think would
fuck him, too, since she was doing black dick.

	When brother Tyrone had arrived out of the blue and started taking on
the women, Antoine had counted that as a good thing -- and when he'd stepped
in and felt him out and more or less agreed to coordinate their efforts to
keep the turmoil and confusion down, it had been even better -- but when he
had actually surfaced Vince...

	Vince was fucking PERFECT!  Young and hot and hard and he had the
attitude and he had gone to the effort of REALLY dominating Antoine -- not
just talking shit, but physically overpowering him without even being
particularly violent about it -- and when push came to shove (and it was --
Vince's cock was slowly sinking into Antoine's ass), Vince had it going on...

	Vince had made Antoine suck him, bent over and chained, holding his
head and fucking his face and saying, "You're mine, now, little nigger..." --
and Antoine had sucked like a mad thing, so happy that he almost got a nut
without even being able to touch himself!  Then they'd come upstairs because
Vince didn't want to fuck around on the bare floor of the dungeon. They'd
taken a room, and Vince was introducing Antoine's ass to his fat dick.
Antoine's hands were still bound behind him and he was knelt up with his head
on a pillow, groaning as he worked to open himself for what he knew would be
an incredible fuck...

	It was.  Vince gave no quarter, but didn't feel it was necessary to
beat on Antoine or anything, just fuck him without mercy -- Antoine was
thoroughly dominated and they both knew it.  Vince just pounded Antoine's
ass, taking his pleasure, at one point grabbing a handful of Antoine's
dreadlocks and pulling his head back.  It was about the rights of ownership
-- Vince was entitled to them, and Antoine was happy to provide.  When Vince
hammered Antoine a few times hard, then backed off until the double ring of
his anus milked the head of his dick while he shot his juice into Antoine's
rectum, both of the players were more than pleased.

	Vince let him go and Antoine collapsed, exhausted, but his cock was
rock hard.  "May I jerk off?" Antoine asked.

	"Yeah, go ahead."  Momentarily sated, Vince was inclined to be
magnanimous -- but he still didn't want to suck face or anything -- and that
was FINE with Antoine, as it would have blurred their roles.  "Maybe I'll
play with your nuts."  He disconnected Antoine's binders from each other so
he could get at his cock.

	"Can I suck you?"

	"Yeah."  Antoine had rolled over onto his back, so Vince knelt up and
Antoine sucked him in, tasting the slight mess he'd left on Vince's cock
momentarily before saliva washed it away.  Vince leaned over to scratch
Antoine's balls while he jerked himself, and he played with Antoine's asshole
some and tweaked his small nipples, but he didn't touch his cock.  That was
fine -- Antoine didn't want him to.  It was over relatively quickly; Antoine
spurted onto his belly and chest and sagged back from it, well-pleased.
Vince grimaced at the mess and said, "Now you're all nasty -- let's go clean
up."

	They went to the big shower room and Antoine quickly sluiced the jizz
off his belly and chest before worshiping Vince's body with a bar of soap.
Vince didn't return the favor; instead, he played grab-ass and tugged on
Antoine's balls and other distractions while Antoine did a more thorough
cleaning of his body.  The roles were clear; Antoine was there to service
Vince -- period.  When they were done, Vince said, "Let's go check out that
steam bath..."  Five minutes later, Antoine was lazily sucking Vince's cock
in a room so thick with steam that they could hardly see one another.

                       ----------------------------------

	At the dance, Otis sidled up to Tyrone.  "Do you know what them
dickheads Marcel and Slick are up to?"

	"No, what?" Tyrone asked.

	"They've got Patty and Simone in stalls in the boys' restroom giving
out ten dollar blowjobs!"

	"Shit!" Tyrone rasped.  "Go tell 'em to stop -- but keep it low-
profile.  I can't -- I got it through the grapevine that Cindy's old man is
looking for a way to snag my ass.  I have to stay squeaky until I have him
nailed down."

	"Lucky me," Otis grunted.  "Bev's old man isn't that way -- Hell, I
bet I could get him to suck my dick if I presented it properly.  And he's
slavering over the idea of ripping a piece off Bev..."

	"You should let him -- and get video, just in case," Tyrone told him.
"That's what I'm gonna do."

	"Good plan," Otis agreed.  "Fuck, he might even smile for the camera.
I get the impression that he knows I've put the dick to his old lady -- and
he'd give an eyetooth to be able to watch."

	"That's not so bad, either, if you can get it to work," Tyrone
replied.  "Go fix Marcel and Slick, though, for now -- we can talk about that
other shit later.  I don't want some teacher wandering in there..."

	"I got it."  Otis headed for the boys' restroom.

                       ----------------------------------

	"Hey, Otis!"  Marcel grinned from ear to ear.

	Then his face froze as Otis lit into him, "Are you fucking nuts?
What if a teacher walks through that fucking door?  If I heard about this,
how long do you think you've got?"

	"B--but..."  Marcel was making good money and didn't want to bust
things up!  Slick looked unhappy, too.

	"Do you want to end up in jail tonight?  All four of you?" Otis
rasped.  "Patty!  Simone!  Get your asses out of here, NOW!"  There was a
line for service -- and groans came from it.  "You two move them somewhere --
you can tell this bunch where and charge an extra five for the move."  Patty
and Simone did as they were told -- their conditioning to obey Otis still
carried weight.

	"Where?" Slick ranted.

	Otis thought about it.  It had to be close -- but most of the school
was blocked off...  "Lookit, this thing is winding down.  A bunch of people
are going to that diner over on Newbury.  Maybe you can move this there...
There will be a lot of traffic, so the staff probably won't catch you -- and
if you hand out a couple of freebies, they might look the other way..."

	Slick squinted, thinking.  "I think I know a guy over there.  He
busses or something.  I think a couple of the waitresses are fucking the
manager to keep their jobs -- and he might be pimping them, late..."

	Otis nodded.  "Split the take and let him run them and then if
someone busts the place, your hands are clean," he advised.  Slick nodded,
his eyes hooded.  "I'm outta here.  Clean this mess up and move the girls.
Marcel, let Slick handle the negotiations with the diner guy while you
advertize."  Otis headed out.

                       ----------------------------------

	Carmela and Chuck were keeping it clean on the dance floor -- well,
almost.  Sort of.  Usually.  The problem wasn't Chuck, either -- it was
Carmela.  She was out and Chuck was not only dancing with her and paying
attention to her, he had promised more, and she was flying high!  As a
result, she was all over him, wanting the illicit touches, the evidence of
his desire for her.  She wanted him making those moves that signaled his
possession of her -- and as a result, Chuck found himself glancing around
nervously while he surreptitiously fondled her plush ass or squeezed one of
her soft titties through her bra.  Carmela found the requirement to be alert
mildly irritating, but she understood the reason for it.  The good news was
that they were in a very public place and Chuck's attention to her couldn't
be missed by anyone watching.

	Mrs. Carmody WAS watching, and she alerted on three different
occasions, but Chuck was careful and did nothing prolonged.  Ironically, Mrs.
Carmody was aware that she was ruining Carmela's evening and had some
sympathy for the girl -- but couldn't let it stop her.  At one point, a rumor
that there were girls in the boys' restroom distracted her for several
minutes while she chased down Mr. Finch to go investigate, but he reported
nothing untoward going on...

	But midnight was approaching; the band announced their last number --
only, as is generally customary, to be talked into one more -- and began
packing up, afterward.  Singles and couples, and the occasional odd trio --
like Eddie Ray, Nick Mangia and Lucy O'Donnell, who'd been together all
evening -- drifted out the doors toward the parking lot.  It had been a
memorable evening -- an exciting game and a good, celebratory but not wild
dance party -- and as she drifted out to ensure that there was no last-minute
trouble in the parking lot, Mrs. Carmody was pleased.

                       ----------------------------------

	Carmela wasn't; she couldn't get her swollen feet back into her shoes
and had to go out barefoot, carrying them.  Chuck would have liked to have
been able to carry her, but there were at least two reasons why he couldn't
-- decorum and Carmela's size.  "I'm sorry I can't get back into my
Cinderella shoes," Carmela husked, apparently feeling that she'd failed Chuck
in some manner.

	"Don't worry about it," Chuck replied, "I like you barefoot."  That
got him an odd look from Carmela, but a smile came with it.

	'And if I added pregnant?' had flitted through Carmela's mind.  She
minced out across the parking lot to Chuck's car, her gait accentuating the
roll of her ass under her dress.  Chuck followed, enjoying the show.

	"Carmela!"  Isobel tottered up, presenting Carmela with her overnight
bag and her flip-flops, already extracted from it.

	"Thank you!" Carmela exclaimed as she dropped the thongs on the
tarmac and stepped into them.  Then she flicked a guilty glance at Chuck, but
he merely grinned.

	"Close enough," he said.

	"So," Isobel confirmed.  "You're at my house?"

	"Yes."  Carmela nodded.  Isobel would cover her.

	"I'm at yours," Isobel replied, glancing back at Rick DeMeter.

	"Oh?" Carmela blinked.

	"A hand job, maybe," Isobel replied in quiet Spanish.  "I like him.
Maybe a blowjob.  Maybe, if we get to three dates..."  Carmela smiled and
nodded, then turned to Chuck and shook her head; she wasn't translating THIS
one.  Chuck merely snorted, then moved on to unlock the car.  "Good luck,
Cinderella," Isobel offered.

	"Thanks.  You too!  Things have gone well after all..."

	Isobel nodded agreement; if nothing else happened tonight, the
evening would have exceeded expectations.  She headed back to her car, and
Rick, who she was 'taking home.'

	Tina and Alonzo were kissing in the front seat of Alonzo's car.
They'd been called down twice as they -- Tina, in particular -- got wilder
and wilder on the dance floor.  Now, she was kissing wide open -- but Alonzo
wasn't doing this in a car.  Backing off, he started the vehicle, saying, "We
can be a lot more comfortable than this.  Let's go get that bite and then we
can REALLY make out!"

                       ----------------------------------

	Arvid 'Radio' Culpepper looked up from where he was bussing a back
booth at the diner on Newbury Street to watch Marcel and Slick and two chicks
blow through the door.  Slick picked him up with his eyes and made a beeline
for him, a man on a mission.  "Hey, Radio.  What the fuck?"

	"You tell me."  'How come you're towin' pussy around, Slick?' Arvid
wondered.

	"Big Jack on?"  Slick asked.

	"Yeah."

	"Is he pimpin'?"

	"Is it fuckin' Friday night?"

	"What's he got?"

	"Ginny."  Arvid pointed at a skinny, dispirited-looking bleached
blonde.  "Fat Connie called in sick."

	"Take me to him."

	"I'm busy, Man," Arvid went back to bussing -- he didn't want to piss
Big Jack off.

	"They's money in it..."

	"Money."  Arvid frowned.  He was pissed because Fat Connie liked him
-- enough that he got a piece every once in a while if he rubbed her feet
after a shift.  Money wouldn't buy him a piece of Ginny -- and he didn't want
any of her skank shit, anyway.  He was pretty sure she was into crack.
"Rather have pussy."

	"Huh!  Even better!  Simone!  Bring your ass over here!" Slick
yelled.  Simone obediently hopped up and swayed over to where Slick and Arvid
were standing.  "This look good to you, Radio?"

	"Yeah," Arvid agreed, eyeing Simone greedily, "Fuck yeah.  But you'll
be dead in the water when you tell her what you're talkin' about."  'Slick
don't have no women -- and he DAMN sure don't have any who put out!' Arvid
thought.

	"Simone, Radio wants a piece.  It's a trade thing -- we're
negotiating.  You don't mind giving Radio a piece, do you?"

	Simone knew the correct answer:  "No, Slick, I don't mind."  She
stepped up and ran her fingers over Arvid's crotch.  "Got a big one, Radio?"

	Arvid's eyes bulged.  "Big enough!" he croaked.  "Okay, lemme see
what Jack is doin'."  He made a dash for the back.  Seconds later, Big Jack
Osborn stuck his head through the kitchen door and beckoned Slick.

	"What do YOU want?" Big Jack grunted.

	"I hear you're short-handed," Slick ventured.  "I can fill the
openings with some temporary help for a fifty-fifty split."

	"Waitresses?"

	"Hookers."

	Big Jack eyed Slick askance.  "I probably won't need 'em."

	Slick looked at his watch.  "The Jefferson High Homecoming dance lets
out in fifteen minutes -- and in thirty, the place will be full, because the
football team is coming here -- and I ALREADY got a waiting list for
blowjobs."

	Big Jack eyed him.  "You're shitting me, right?  What you got?"

	"Simone!  Get Patty and come over here!" Slick roared.  Simone waved
and Patty got up and the pair headed for Slick and Big Jack.  "This be prime
stuff -- still in high school -- but they're seasoned sluts.  They've been
hookin' a couple of months.  They already got a customer base and regulars.
We just need a place, because they's always a lot of horny guys lookin' after
a dance..."

	Big Jack liked what he saw -- a LOT!  A pair of husky black girls
with big jugs and big smiles and big hips, still young and sweet -- he could
charge twice the usual rate for these, make his and give young Slick his end,
no problem!  "What do they do?"

	"Ask 'em."  Slick replied.

	"What do you do, Honey?  Do you go around the world?" Jack asked
Patty.

	"Whatever Slick and Marcel say," Patty replied, "Sure, we do that."

	"Awright, let's talk economics."  Big Jack waved the trio toward the
back rooms he had set up for his small brothel.  "I might want a piece, too
-- a test drive."

	"Pick one," Slick agreed.  "I promised Radio a piece for hooking us
up.  He can have the other."  Two minutes later, Big Jack and Arvid were both
pounding pussy.

	Five minutes after that, Big Jack stuck his head in the kitchen and
roared, "Awright, look lively!  We got incoming!  Get some shit started --
make sure we got coffee runnin' and get some biscuits in the oven!  Ginny,
you'd better push for tips because I don't see you makin' a lot on your back
tonight!"

	Five minutes after THAT, people started wandering in from the
dance...

	Booths filled rapidly.  Ginny and the other two night waitresses
scrambled to push together tables to make a long one for the team and their
dates, ending up putting nine tables in a horseshoe in the open area on one
side of the diner wrapped by booths.  Slick and Marcel took up residence on
the far side -- and when young guys started arriving and making a beeline for
their booth, Big Jack grinned from ear to ear, seeing dollar signs.  With a
place to operate on their backs and some basic cleaning facilities available,
Slick and Marcel could -- and did -- up-sell customers from blowjobs to fucks
-- even anal -- at Big Jack's set rate.  Big Jack watched a lot of young guys
talk to Slick, leave -- and come back in fifteen minutes, having clearly
visited an ATM.  Then it was off to the door marked 'Employees Only' in the
niche that led to the bathrooms...  Big Jack watched the girls at work for a
bit, then left the cash collection to Marcel -- things were well in hand.
The night shift was going to pay for itself BEFORE the truckers and drunks
started wandering in after two...

	Kids were sucking face all over the restaurant -- which was SUPPOSED
to be a 'family' place with standards -- but Big Jack wasn't stopping THIS!
He might make his month on tonight alone if he didn't get stupid -- besides,
guys watching other guys feel up girls got horny and needed sex...  "Let 'em
do what they want as long as they don't start a riot," he instructed the
waitresses.  "At this point, I don't care if they fuck in the booths -- it'll
give 'em something to do while they wait for food!"  A couple of the older
waitresses were scandalized, but knew better than to cross Jack -- they would
end up unemployed, ESPECIALLY if they weren't in his stable...

	There was a lot of grab-ass.  The group basically owned the
restaurant, and school officials had been keeping them under their thumbs at
the dance -- and almost everyone was used to fooling around after a game.
Girls went into the ladies' room and got out of bras and panties and
generally made themselves more accessible, after which bare breasts began to
appear here and there to anyone watching.  Late-night losers filling the
barstools at the counter were thrilled to death -- and when it was quietly
noted that there was young stuff to be had in the back, Big Jack, Slick and
Marcel made even MORE money...

	Damian, Alyssa, Terence, Bonita, Clint and Brenda crammed themselves
in a horseshoe booth.  Damian and Alyssa were shameless; Damian unzipped the
top of Alyssa's backless dress and folded it down and mauled Alyssa's titties
in plain sight.  Mac and Donna, Chris and Misha, and Tad and Anita had the
other corner booth; when Mac good-naturedly yelled across to Damian, "Why
don't you just fuck her?" Damian's response was, "I will if you will!"  This
resulted in frenzied negotiations -- especially between Mac and Donna -- but
in the end the guys turned sideways in the ends of the booth seats and the
girls lifted their skirts and bounced on their cocks to the applause,
whistles and cat-calls of the rest of the team, their bare breasts jiggling
and they rose and fell.  It wasn't a good fuck, objectively, for anyone
involved, but excitement made up for what was lacking in the physical piece
and all four of them got off fairly quickly.  This kind of thing would
probably never have happened if just about everyone present wasn't used to
wilder goings-on at the club, but that experience made the whole thing seem
more normal than it was...

	Emma, the oldest waitress, was horrified!  "Jack, you have to stop
that!" she insisted.

	"I don't HAVE to do NOTHIN'!" Jack roared back.  "Go wait tables --
that's YOUR job, not teaching those kids morals!  You start raising Hell and
so much as ONE customer leaves and you can follow whoever it is out the door!
Get me?"  Emma shut up, but let Ginny tend to the booths.

	"That's gutsy," Tina opined, proud to be sitting at a seat at the
horseshoe table with Alonzo.  She had a pretty good view of both couples as
Donna and Alyssa bounced on their boyfriends' cocks.

	"Well, it's a little more public than they're used to, I guess -- but
things like that happen at the club..." Alonzo replied.

	Tina turned to him, wide-eyed.  "Maybe you should tell me about this
club?"

	Amy, sitting nearby, released Alonzo a bit from his inhibitions,
knowing that the couple was headed for the club afterward.

	"It's a place we go to have parties and let off steam after games,"
Alonzo related.  "There's no booze or drugs, but it IS a place you can have
sex without anybody giving you sh-- I mean, trouble.  We used to meet in
somebody's den or game room at a house somewhere, but now we have a big old
house that somebody is renovating and making real nice.  Girls can come and
wear masks so nobody knows who they are and cut loose and mingle with the
guys and do stuff they normally wouldn't without worrying about their
reputations, because what happens at the club stays at the club -- it's sort
of like Vegas.  I don't know all of the rules, but I think they basically
have to agree not to get all prissy if somebody asks them for something.
Older people come, too -- women in particular -- and they generally don't
have any problem with sex..."

	"So you've had sex at this club," Tina verified.

	"Yes."

	"With who?"

	Alonzo grimaced.  "That would be telling.  If we were having sex, you
wouldn't want me telling people about it.  Besides, like I said, what happens
at the club STAYS at the club."

	Tina was suddenly ambivalent.  What did this mean for her and Alonzo,
exactly?  What did he expect?  Plans she'd made for the evening were suddenly
withdrawn...

	Toby, who was sitting nearby with Amy, noticed how the whole thing
had suddenly backfired.  He put his hand in Amy's under the table and shot
her the gestalt.

	<Oops!> Amy yelped mentally.  <I'll fix it.>

	<Tina would actually like to have a place to let her hair down -- but
this didn't go well...> Toby advised.

	<Yeah, my fault.   I keep forgetting that girls are so much more
cautious than boys...>  Reading boys' minds made what she knew about how
girls dealt with things look seriously complicated -- because it was.  Amy
got up and stopped by Tina's chair.  "Let's go to the bathroom."

	Tina blinked -- but she wasn't EVEN stupid.  This was a classic
move...  "Excuse me..."  Alonzo gallantly got up, which pleased her; she
smiled as she let Amy lead her off.

	In the ladies room, Amy stopped to pretend to check her makeup.  "I
guess we're looking a little wild to you, huh?"

	"Well..."

	"Look, there is a lot more to the club than Alonzo is allowed to tell
you.  Even Alonzo isn't in what you might call the inner circle.  We
generally have an initiation when we let new members in, in order to keep the
secret -- although with the guys it's generally enough that they know if they
act up or embarrass a girl, not only do they lose their privileges, we'll be
looking for a way to embarrass them badly.  Before we go any further, I need
a promise that you won't talk to a soul about the club who isn't in it
already."

	"Okay, I can do that.  So who is in this club?" Tina queried.  Toby,
monitoring from his seat in the booth, applied blocks.

	"Take a look at the team -- and then take a look at their dates.
Most of those girls took advantage of the benefits the club offers to get
where they are," Amy replied.  "The cheerleaders are actually an exception --
we put them through some hard times because certain girls felt they were
entitled to a boyfriend on the team.  Ironically, those that did don't HAVE
boyfriends on the team..."

	"You're right about one thing," Tina noted, "I've never been able to
figure out how some of those matchups happened..."

	Amy nodded.  "Tonight was classic.  So let me ask you, do you think
Alonzo would have had the confidence to approach you tonight if he didn't
have some experience with women and girls?  How many times have you gone to a
dance and been too scared to say yes -- but it didn't matter because boys
were too scared to ask?"

	Tina blinked, having been hit between the eyes.  Alonzo had
miraculously avoided all of that -- but Amy was right; it had been her
problem, and no doubt the problem of a BUNCH of guys -- other girls, too!
"Too many to count?"

	"Do you think you're alone?" Amy pressed.

	"Not EVEN!"

	"Okay," Amy backed off to explain, "The club offers opportunities for
girls to meet guys in ways that preserve their anonymity, either partially or
totally.  It specifically offers girls a chance to learn about sex without
ruining their reputation.  Let's take an, um, obvious example -- Donna.  How
likely do you think it is that she would hook up with Mac?"

	"I'd have never..." Tina began.

	"Neither would Donna on the first day of school -- but she saw the
results of some club hookups over the summer and was brave enough -- or
desperate enough -- to volunteer at the club."

	"Volunteer?" Tina queried.

	"Yes.  Volunteer."  Amy gathered herself.  "The rules are pretty
clear.  We have various places and ways that you can interact with boys --
some are public and some are very private -- and anonymous.  The main rule
for girls is that if a boy asks you for something and you chicken out, you're
gone.  Donna visited the club once or maybe twice before she actually 'met'
Mac -- but by then she had some knowledge and confidence regarding sex,
because she'd participated in some anonymous sex acts."

	Tina cocked her head, looking around.  They were keeping it pretty
quiet, but there were other girls in the room.  "Such as?"

	"Sucking a cock."

	"What's anonymous about that?"

	"Through a hole in the wall?"

	Tina stopped, stunned.  "You're kidding, right?"

	"Nope.  Think about it -- you see the thing in good light.  You get
to practice.  You get to work on a technique.  The guy never sees you.  It
works great, actually.  Let's say you decide to go crazy -- you get up and
turn around and back up..."

	"Omigawd!" Tina gasped.

	"I know at least one girl who likes it that way."  Amy grinned.
"That's just one thing we do.  Imagine a TOTALLY dark room -- you can't see
your hand in front of your face.  It's you and him...  Tabitha Hart hooked
Pete Phifer like that..."

	"WOW!"

	"I'm just saying that before you hold the club against Alonzo, you
should realize that without the club, he probably wouldn't have asked you
here.  And if and when you have sex with him, you're going to thank those
girls who went before you and taught Alonzo what he was doing.  Alonzo is a
great lover, I hear -- very gentle and romantic."

	"So, like, all of the team's girlfriends are members?"

	Amy thought about it.  "It's not limited to that, actually, but yes.
I can't think of anyone but you and Carmela who aren't -- and that's because
you two were picked up tonight OUTSIDE the club."

	Tina eyed Amy.  "Do we need to become members?  And if we do, how do
we do it?  Would I have to...?"

<1st attachment end>


----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <story-submit@asstr.org>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-admin@asstr.org> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+