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“Mr. Ventura,” she murmurs with a nod. “It’s a pleasure to see you here tonight.”
I cut her off. I’m not interested in making small talk.
“Is she ready?” I ask in a nonchalant tone. “The girl, I mean.”
Amanda’s not offended, and nods politely.
“She is. The other gentlemen are eager too,” she says, gesturing to two men sitting just behind my shoulder. “If you’ll follow me, please.”
The three of us get up, and trail Amanda out of the lounge and into a darkened hallway. The décor is sumptuous, with ornate gold mirrors and a bouquet of blossoms on a gilded side table. After walking about three hundred feet, Amanda stops in front of a door.
“Gentlemen,” she intones. “Before we go in, let me reiterate the rules of the breeding party. As you know, certain young women come to the club with a dream of getting pregnant. That is what we’re here to do tonight. To help them achieve their goals and ambitions.”
“Got it,” one of the other guys rasps in a low voice. “We already know the drill.” He’s a burly dude clad in a dark suit with a blindingly-white shirt beneath it. In fact, the third guy is clad in a dark suit as well, and we probably look like triplets, seeing that we’re all tall, dark and athletic.
“Yes, of course, Mr. Kimball,” Amanda murmurs in an unruffled voice. “But I’m sure you understand that I need to review the rules before we step in. Club policy.” Then, she turns expectantly to us again. “Our hostess tonight is a beautiful young woman who goes by the name Kim. She will be wearing a mask, per her request, but you will not. She will see your faces, and if conception is achieved, it will be Kim’s choice to reach out to the prospective father on her timeline.”
I shrug. I’ve done a couple breeding parties before, and they were great. The girl often wears a mask for her privacy, but my understanding is that for the right price, she’ll lose the mask. As to who’s getting paid, I’m not sure, and it doesn’t matter to me, frankly. I’m here for good times, and any talk of cash is boring.
But Amanda continues.
“Because this is a breeding party, no contraception will be used. There are no condoms in the room, and Kim is currently not on the pill. However, she has let us know that all holes are available for your pleasure tonight. She asks that you come in her pussy at least once, but her mouth and anus will also be in play.”
I nod with satisfaction, already growing hard in my pants. Good. I love sluts, and to be honest, Club Z doesn’t attract the type of girl who doesn’t let men use her every which way. Those girls go elsewhere. Maybe to Club K or Ecstasy. I don’t know, and I don’t give a shit either.
“What else?” I ask, an edge to my voice. “I think we’re ready here.”
Amanda smiles politely.
“Just one more thing. As always, the club requests discretion, both on your part, and for the benefit of the girl. Often, women come to us in desperate situations, and of course, Club Z is always here to help. With your cooperation, I know that we can accomplish what we set out to achieve. Thank you, gentlemen. I leave you to tonight’s pleasures.”
Then, Amanda opens the door before us before stepping aside. The three of us enter a small, windowless antechamber with velvet-flocked furniture and a small changing area. There’s also a two-way mirror looking into an adjoining room, and that’s when I see her. There’s a gorgeous girl strapped to a pedestal, completely nude. She’s got a mask tied behind her head, and her hands are bound behind her back. Not only that, but she’s on her belly, with her torso fastened to ropes that dangle from the ceiling. Her rose-red mouth opens silently even as her big breasts hang, and my cock jerks with lust.
Holy fuck. Dark shit is going down tonight … and this luscious woman is definitely getting pregnant.
5
Kimber
I feel like I’m a ham hanging from a hook, or even worse. Did Amanda pick this position to torture me? Probably, seeing that she’s doing me a “favor” by allowing me to participate in the breeding party tonight.
After all, I was a mess when I showed up in her office for the second time today. Despite my best efforts to clean up, my mascara was still streaky around the edges, and my lipstick slightly smeared. My hair was mussed, and my top even had damp marks on it from tear tracks. That’s how sad and pathetic-looking I was.
But Amanda didn’t comment on my appearance.
“So how can I help you?” she asked, folding her hands calmly. “I must say, it’s a surprise to see you again so soon, Kimber.”
