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Dear Ms. Moore,
We’re pleased to welcome you to The Pleasure Club.
As you have already signed and returned the contract and filled out all the necessary forms to ensure you receive your every wish, we will be in touch with you shortly with the details of your first Pleasure Night. Your Wish List and Pleasure Forms have been turned over to our staff of highly trained Pleasure Guardians, and they are hard at work finding your perfect match.
We will endeavor to meet your personal fantasy.
When you are contacted again, you will be given a location where your Pleasure Night will begin, and you will also be given a safe word to use should at any time you become uncomfortable. There is no shame in changing your mind. We’re here to pleasure, and should your safe word be used, your match for the evening will cease all activity, and the game will be put on hold until a mutual agreement between you can be reached.
Once again, welcome to The Pleasure Club.
Please feel free to contact the office at any time should you have any questions.
Yours truly,
The Pleasure Club Management
* * * * *
Ms. Moore,
Your Pleasure Night will be held at Pamper You, Friday, September 4th. Please arrive at precisely 9:00 p.m.
Your safe word is Therapy.
Sincerely,
The Pleasure Guardians
* * * * *
Lynae Moore turned around to face the mirror, adjusted the cap on her head and moved the tassel to the left side of her face.
“It was the single most erotic experience in my life,” her sister, Celeste, told her.
She couldn’t wait until the dean of colleges announced that they were all college graduates and she could toss the square blue contraption up into the air with the rest of her classmates.
Celeste was recounting the tale of her “night of pleasure” with The Principal four months ago, before she’d completed her residency in anesthesiology and moved to Atlanta. Lynae couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wrinkled her nose. “But it was with a complete stranger,” she said. “How could you do that?”
“Girl, when I walked into that office, the only thing I could think about was how fine that man was and what he was getting ready to do to me.”
She shook her head. “He could have been a rapist or a serial killer, or both.” Turning and pointing a finger at her, she said, “You’re nuts.”
“Oh, he had nuts all right. Big, gorgeous, sinful, chocolate nuts, and they were delicious,” she said with a wicked grin on her face.
Lynae grinned. “O-M-G, you are so nasty. I’m your little sister, remember?”
Celeste laughed and stood, then came forward and straightened Lynae’s gown, looking at her from head to toe. “I am so proud of you.”
“Me? For what?”
“You’re graduating from college.”
Lynae shrugged her shoulders. “Well, you inspired me.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. Going to college, then medical school and completing your residency. I’m the proud one. I wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t motivated me.”
“You’re still thinking about going to massage therapy school in September, right?”
Lynae glanced at the huge white envelope sitting on her nightstand. She’d already begun filling out the paperwork. She had to complete the application packet and send it in by the end of next week if she even wanted to be considered a candidate for the classes starting in mid-September. “Yes, I’m still thinking about it.”
“Then look at it like this.” Celeste grabbed her around the waist, turned them both around to face the mirror and hugged her from behind.
They were different as night and day, literally—her creamy white skin, Lynae’s caramel-colored features—stepsisters who’d become the best of friends.
“I spend my days sticking needles in people’s arms and backs. You, on the other hand, when, and I do mean when you finish massage therapy school, people are going to pay to have your hands all over them, and they’ll walk away with smiles on their faces.”
That conversation was five weeks ago. Now, Lynae was sitting outside Pamper You, the most expensive, sought after spa in Atlanta, about to experience her own single most erotic experience of her life. Why had she let Celeste talk her into this? But she knew why. Because deep down, she hadn’t been thoroughly fucked since she’d gone back to college.
When Celeste graduated, Lynae had seen how proud her father and stepmother were, so she’d decided to take the plunge too. She’d never even considered college when she was in high school. All she’d ever wanted to be was a cosmetologist. She’d loved doing hair ever since she could remember.
In middle and high school she’d had her own little shop in her house, doing her friends’ hair almost every weekend. Then, right after high school, she’d gone to cosmetology school and, after graduating, worked for one of the most exclusive salons in Dallas and never looked back or regretted one minute of it. She’d met the man of her dreams, a handsome law school student who treated her like a queen. They’d dated. He’d even proposed. But two months before the wedding, right after he’d graduated from law school, he’d told her that he couldn’t possibly marry someone who was only a cosmetologist, who’d never even gone to college.
It didn’t matter that she loved him or that he loved her. He’d only been thinking about his reputation in the ritzy ditzy law firm that had offered him a job, and what type of woman he wanted seen on his arm at their office parties.
And that person wasn’t her.
He’d even asked her why she couldn’t have been like her sister. That was what dug into her soul the most. When Celeste’s mother had married Lynae’s father ten years ago, she’d wanted to hate Celeste and her mother for taking her dead mother’s place, but they’d both been so loving and patient with her in the beginning that she couldn’t help but love them. She’d gained a new mother and an older sister, and her father had been the happiest she’d ever seen him. She and Celeste became the best of friends despite their age difference, and not once had she been jealous of her or resented her presence.
But after what her ex had said, she’d begun to doubt herself, doubt the choices she’d made. And after Celeste graduated and announced she was going to medical school as well, Lynae had made up her mind that she could do it too. She’d worked another couple of years and saved enough money so she wouldn’t be destitute. Then she’d gone to college to get a degree in business administration and had sworn off men, at least for the time being, anyway. She hadn’t wanted or needed any distractions while she was in school.
However, her love for the field of cosmetology never wavered, so she decided she’d use her degree to open her own day spa and salon and not only have hair stylists, but manicurist
, makeup artists, massage therapists, and skin experts. When she opened her salon, it was going to be the one-stop shop for women of all colors, all races, to come and be pampered.
