A Night at the Club

She turned me so I was facing away from her and then I felt something rubbing against my back. It took me a minute to realize that she was writing on the simple white dress. I concentrated on what she was writing and figured out that the last letters were l, l, y, and s. She must have written "Shelly's" across the back of my dress.

"Now we're ready to go into the club," she said firmly as she took my hand and led me toward a set of black doors with the winking cat logo in the center of each of them.

The club, itself, was even more dim than the entryway. There didn't seem to be any lighting except for the lights shining on a circular stage in what I assumed was the middle of the club. After a few minutes, when my eyes adjusted to the near darkness, I could see that there were also very dim lights hanging from the ceiling above each table. A naked waitress with a cat tail similar to what the twins were wearing led us to a table in the far corner.

"We'll start with Margarita's,' Margi said. "For some reason that is my favorite drink and whoever is paying names the drink."

When the drinks arrived, it looked like mine was a slightly different color. I don't normally drink, so I don't know all the variations of the various drinks. Mine tasted like pineapple with an overtaste of strawberry. I tried to nurse it along, but a short while later it was gone.

Evidently so was everyone else's because Shelly waved at one of the waitresses and said, "Let's go with a round of Vodka Gimlets."

I know that is just vodka and lime juice because Shelly has me make her one once in a while when she is studying. "Make the newbie's a double," she said with a laugh. "She appears to be thirsty tonight."

Apparently the bartender at The Club adds a little sparkling water because there were bubbles in mine when the drinks arrived. I usually don't like a Gimlet, but this one wasn't quite as bitter as the ones I made for Shelly. Again, I tried to nurse it, but mine was the first one gone.

"We'll have to wait until after the first show for refills," Dianne said calmly. She then snapped her fingers and pointed at the floor next to her chair. The kittens immediately slid off their chairs and assumed a kneeling position at her feet.

"Good kitties," she said as she pressed a button her small remote. Soon both kitties were purring gently as they swayed at her feet.

Margi leaned across in front of Shelly and said to me, "This first show is a pole dancing contest. The winner gets a thousand dollars." She looked up at the stage and laughed. Then she looked back at me and said, "The loser gets to do a different kind of pole dance."

I looked over at Shelly hoping for an explanation, but all she said was, "Their Mistresses made the bet. If I made the bet, it wouldn't be the losing dancer on the punishment pole. It would be her Mistress."

The lights got even more dim and bright lights came up on the stage. An extremely beautiful black woman in a white catsuit very much like what Shelly was wearing walked out to the middle of the stage. She was apparently the Mistress of Ceremonies or Head Mistress... or both.

"Mistresses, Ma'ams, and slaves," she began. It wasn't until she spoke those words that it sank in that there were no men in the club, only women. She continued, "Our first display is a wager between Mistress Luann and Mistress Kiara. Mistress Luann thinks her slave, raven, is the best pole dancer in our club. Mistress Kiara, however, thinks that her slave, madeline, is best. Your vote will determine the winner of this wager." She paused, looked around the room, and then said firmly, "Remember only Ma'ams and Mistresses may vote."

I leaned over to Shelly and asked softly, "What's the difference between a Ma'am and a Mistress?"

It was Margi, however, who answered me... more or less. She gave me a really strange smile and said, "It all depends on who's moving and who's on top."

Shelly gave her a very stern look and said very softly, "A Ma'am is an independent woman who knows her own power. A Mistress is a Ma'am who exercises power over another woman... or man."

"Thank you, Mistress," I replied. Then I turned very red. I had called Shelly Mistress. I would have to be careful with what I drank for the rest of the evening or I would totally lose control.

Shelly just smiled at me and said, "You are so precious, Precious."

I tried not to look at her. Besides, raven and madeline had come out onto the stage and were standing next to their poles. Both were totally naked and from the way the lights reflected off their skins, both were heavily oiled or greased.

The music was unfamiliar to me, but it was loud and had a strong, swaying beat. There must have been some agreement as to who went first because raven stepped back and madeline grabbed her pole and began swinging around it with her feet on the ground. After just a few minutes she had one leg bent around the pole and was swinging faster and faster with her other foot right at the bottom of the pole evidently pushing her along. Then suddenly she flipped herself into the air and began circling with her body fully out from the pole.

When she let go with one hand, everyone in the place gasped, but their gasps turned to applause as she twisted her body and placed her hand back on the pole about three feet higher than she had been. She did this several more times until she was at the top of the pole. She was losing momentum and her spin was slowing, but she somehow kept her body almost straight out from the pole. As she slowed almost to a stop, she suddenly seemed to lose her grip on the pole and began falling. It looked like she was going to crash headfirst into the stage, but somehow she was able to regain control- or perhaps she had never lost control- and curved as she reached the floor so that she came sliding out onto the stage on her stomach with her hands held high above her head as if she were flying. As her body slowed, she brought her feet up under her body and brought herself to a yoga sitting position so that she was facing the tables at the front of the stage. She then bowed low with her face touching the stage just in front of her crossed legs.

The applause was tremendous.

Margi disappeared from the table and when she returned, she was carrying a small tray with six champagne flutes on it. "Waitresses can't come out during a show, but there's no rule that says I can't go over to the bar." She smiled, held up her phone, and said, "Besides, I texted an order over to the bar for pickup as soon as madeline finished her portion."

"Someday you are going to go too far, Margi," Dianne said dryly. "And the whole club will enjoy watching you get your just desserts."

"Until then," Margi said, "drink up." As she quickly handed the drinks around she said, "The Newbie's is the one with the bow on the stem."

My drink didn't look any different from theirs. I wondered why it was marked. For a moment I was worried that perhaps it was drugged. Shelly must have sensed my concern because she took it and downed about an inch of it. "They have to mark the free drinks," she said. "Something with the liquor license."

"Oh," I said, "thank you." Champagne normally tastes like bad wine to me, but this wasn't too bad. There was an overtaste of something that tasted almost like lime, but I couldn't place it. I was still trying to figure out what it tasted like when I realized that I had downed the whole flute before anyone else had taken their second sip.

The applause finally died completely away and a new song began. This one was more... haunting. It was slow and had violins and everything that normally makes me cry. I'm a sad drunk, I guess because tears were flowing down my cheeks as I watched raven grab her pole and seem to somehow slither up to about half way. Then she began doing a series of very slow, very athletic, acrobatic moves. At one point she was holding herself straight out from the pole with her legs spread wide as she slowly rotated herself around the pole using just the strength of her hands.

I giggled slightly and Shelly leaned in and said, "What?"

"It's true," I said between giggles. "We're all pink on the inside." She glared at me slightly and I quickly said, "Sorry, that must be the bubbly talking."

Margi must have caught her drink in her throat because she started coughing and hacking and gasping for air. Both Shelly and Dianne shot daggers at her with their eyes and she immediately took several deep breaths through her nose and quieted down.

By the time I looked back at the stage, raven, was again at the very top of the pole and was lowering her body downward while keeping it flat like a flag waving from the pole. Then somehow she managed to put both feet against the pole and somersault herself into the air, landing facing the front of the stage in full splits with her hands high in the air.

Again, there was tremendous applause. This time, after it had died away, the Head Mistress stepped onto the stage and said loudly, "Time to vote, my dears." She paused a moment and then added, "Remember, any ineligible female... or sissy... who votes will join the loser up here on a punishment pole... except they will be up here for the rest of the evening."

I leaned over to Shelly and whispered, "What is a punishment pole?"

"Later, Precious, later. I have to think so I can vote." She then closed her eyes like she was trying to remember both performances, opening them only to look down at the small pad in her hand before pressing one of the squares on the screen.

As the Mistresses and Ma'ams voted, a running total of numbers appeared above where each of the two slaves was standing. Their Mistresses were now standing by their sides. When the numbers stopped moving raven had 109 votes. Madeline had 103.

"That was close," I said softly, more or less to myself.

Dianne chuckled and said, "Raven's performance was by far the most beautiful... and demanding, but Mistress Luann is a bitch that likes to lord her husband's money and power over everyone so a lot of people voted for madeline just for spite.

I turned to Shelly and asked, "Didn't Mistress Kiara know that raven was much better than madeline? Shouldn't a Mistress watch out for her slave and protect her?

"Yes, she should," Shelly answered. Then she looked directly at Margi before adding, "... unless she wanted to punish a wayward slave." She looked back at me and brightened. "But in this case," she said, "Mistress Kiara was looking out for her slave. She knows that madeline is a painslut and the punishment pole is one way to inflict pain without causing any harm to the body."

"How can you do that?" I asked, and Margi immediately answered, "One way is to use a TENS unit set a little higher than recommended." As if to emphasize her point, she triggered her joker's scepter and sparks flew out at the head. "Or," she continued, "you can just overload someone with pleasure... like on the punishment pole."

She pointed to the stage and I could see that two stagehands were rolling out a strange-looking doorway that appeared to have a short dancing pole mounted in the middle of it. While they were moving, the lights came up in the club and the waitresses moved rapidly out to the tables. I watched Mistress Kiara lead madeline over to the strange doorway and then leave the stage. The two stagehands guided madeline so that she was standing in the open doorway and then lifted her hands above her head. There were leather restraints in the upper corners of the open doorway. After her wrists were secured they pulled her ankles out to the bottom edges of the doorway and strapped them into restraints located there. Finally, they grabbed the brass pole and lifted up on it so that it extended up to touch between madeline's legs. They seemed to move it around just a little bit and then pulled it up several more inches. I could tell because there was a dark band around the pole near the middle. After lifting the pole one last time, they both left the stage.

The lights in the club blinked twice signaling the waitresses to return to the bar. The lights then dimmed leaving just a bright spotlight beaming down on madeline in the doorway. There was just enough light for me to be able to grab the drink that had been set before me. Dianne called it a Manhattan, which I think is just whiskey and vermouth, usually with a cherry floating in it. They must have spilled some of the maraschino cherry juice in mine because it had a heavy cherry overtaste when I took my first sip.

The club was very quiet as if everyone were waiting for something. Then I heard it. As it grew louder and louder, it sounded like the strongest vibrator I had ever heard. There were several whoops and cheers as madeline's eyes shot open and she pulled against the restraints holding her hands. The pole was visibly shaking and the black band was moving up and down. It was the strongest vibrator I had ever heard... or seen.

It took only a little over thirty seconds for her to reach her first orgasm. "No," she called out, "it's too much. It's too much." But if anything, the noise got louder and the motion got faster. She soon screamed out her second orgasm.

"How long must she stay on there?" I asked Shelly. "What if it actually hurts her... I mean harms her?"

"The normal punishment on the pole is twenty orgasms," Shelly answered.

"And her safe word is Cherokee," Dianne said calmly, "... should something go wrong." She took a sip of her drink and added, "Besides, Mistress Kiara wouldn't let someone else harm her slave."

I wanted to ask if that meant that Mistress Kiara would harm her, but all I said was, "Oh." I was going to take a sip of my drink but realized that I was holding an empty glass.

I may not have been keeping track of how much I was drinking, but my bladder was. "I need to go to the bathroom," I said softly.

"Go with her," Shelly said to Margi, "just in case someone can't read the back of her dress."

"And leave the joker stick here," Dianne added.

Margi looked disappointed as she set the joker's staff on the table. "Come on," she said as she started walking into the darkness.

As we entered the restroom, I turned to her and asked, "Would you have shocked me with your stick?"

Her face got really weird and her voice got slightly higher than normal as she said, "Until you peed all over yourself and the floor and everything within thirty feet."

For a moment I was very afraid, but then I got that same warm feeling I get when Shelly looks into me with her black eyes. "Oh, my god!" I yelled as I ran for the stall, hoping to make it before I lost control. If I had been wearing panties, I would never have gotten them down in time. The way it was, I barely got the dress out of the way before sitting down and emptying my bladder.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Margi said from the other side of the stall door.

"Like what?" I said, then quickly added, "No, I wouldn't."

The stall door opened. "You would," she said, "and I would love shocking the piss out of you and hurting you in hundreds of ways that only I can dream of... but you are Shelly's... or will be after tonight." She reached out her hand to help me back to my feet. "Still," she said in a strange almost sing-song voice, "if you ever get bored with Shelly's lovin' or want a little pain in your life, Krazy Kitty is always waiting for you."

"No," I tried to say firmly, "I don't think I would like that."

She barred my way with one arm held across the stall doorway and reached under my dress with the other hand. I felt her hand slide between my legs and go all the way up. Then I felt her fingers push into me... with no resistance. I was as wet as a whore in heat.

"That's just the liquor," I stammered. "I'm not used to drinking."

"Keep telling yourself that," she replied with a crooked smile. "Maybe you will even believe it."

She then turned and walked out of the restroom. As we got back to the table, we could hear members of the audience calling out, "Eighteen..." then a little later, "Nineteen..." and just as we got to the table, everyone shouted, "Twenty!"

Madeline was hanging limp in the punishment pole doorway as the stage hands wheeled her down a ramp off of the stage and then wheeled her slowly through the whole room so everyone could see- and smell- her close up. Her body was slick with sweat and the pole was even slicker with her juices. I stood and watched her as the stagehands wound their way around the room. I felt myself shuddering as she passed our table. For an instant, I was seeing myself hanging there with the entire club cheering. Margi snapped her electric stick in front of my eyes and Shelly asked, "Is something wrong?"

"She's just coming to grips with some realities she didn't want to believe," Margi said with a snicker.

"I need another drink," I said as I sat down.

"You need some food," Dianne said.

"Let's split the difference," Shelly said. "Bloody Mary's for everyone."

"Oh, God," Dianne said. "Not those horrid concoctions from hell that you seem to like so much."

"OK," Shelly said, "Make mine spicy and everyone else's can be boring."

"I would like to try it spicy," I said.

"You don't know what you are asking for," Margi said with a laugh. I just stuck my tongue out at her and nodded when Shelly asked if I were sure. When the waitress brought back the tray of drinks, Shelly's and mine had little umbrellas stuck into the celery stick. Hers was red, mine was pink. I took a sip of mine and my mouth was on fire. I certainly wasn't going to be gulping this one down.

As I sat there sipping my drink and breathing very deeply through my mouth, the Head Mistress again walked up on stage. "We have a sissy with us tonight," she began, "who is begging her Mistress for some relief. Mistress Abigail has promised slave-slut wendy that if she fully satisfies an even dozen of her friends, she will be allowed to cum. Do we have twelve volunteers for sissy wendy to satisfy.

"Oh, why not," said Margi as she held her hand- and her stick- high in the air. The sparks from the joker's crown seemed extra bright in the dim room. "I see Krazy Kat is more than willing," the Mistress said, "but please leave your wand at the table. The only pleasure for you will come from slave wendy's tongue."

"I might as well leave these here, too," Margi said loudly as she stood up. When she laid her jester's staff on the table, her vinyl Harley Quinn tights were laying alongside it. I watched her walk up onto the stage. She looked even more naked than slave madeline had been. Having something on top, especially with long sleeves, somehow made her naked bottom look even more naked.

I had thought that the strange tattoos and scars on her legs were designs on a special pair of pantyhose tights, but as she walked up on stage into the bright lights, it was obvious that the designs were on her skin. They were either temporary transfers or real tattoos and scars.

Shelly nodded toward Margi and said softly, "Margarita had a very interesting childhood and an even more interesting couple of relationships as she grew up."

Dianne continued the thought by saying, "She is too broken to ever be allowed to be a Mistress. She would be too cruel."

The twins spoke for the first time, "She was our Mistress for a short time," Mary said. "But she wouldn't honor our safe word," Marcy continued. Then they switched into their normal unison voice and said, "Dianne rescued us from her... and from ourselves. She is not truly Margi's Mistress, but is more of her keeper. Without Dianne, Margi would destroy someone."

"Probably herself," Dianne said flatly, "but she might take others with her." She turned to me and said a little more brightly, "She has never officially submitted herself to me or anyone else, but she knows that she needs me. And I give her what she needs."