Weekend Valkyries

Once again I was trolling through adult classifieds search results when I came across this ad:

"Sydney Ladies club seeks male assistants for the weekend..." I had to read the ad a few times to make sure it wasn't just wishful dyslexia... This ad was in the "Other" section of a same sex social networking site so I was a little unsure as to what kind of assistance they were looking for. I clicked on the ad and read the body: - can't find it now -- must have been taken down - this is what I remember of it:

New Motor cycle club seeks Male helpers to facilitate club activities and generally serve the needs of club members.... ...tryouts will be held on Thursday night between 7pm and 8.30pm.... There was some other stuff... like uniform and temporary joining fee of $40.00 cash payable on entry.... Etc

OK, I may have been wishfully reading into it but still I was gob smacked. I mean, I was thinking... A club full of girl bikers looking for weekend boy toys? Sometimes relentless internet searching does pay off I guess.

I didn't even think this could be a scam, I just fired off the email with a head shot to book my place and got a reply minutes later with an address out near the airport and a 7.03pm appointment.

Thursday rolled around and I packed up everything at work early so I could get home to shower and shave again before heading off. I arrived at the address, an empty bus depot. I felt a little embarrassed and sheepishly looked around for another option in case I had botched up the address. Just then a red arrow appeared on the road. It was shaking a little, clearly one of those laser pointer things. I walked toward it and followed as it moved up the street. Half way up the block it disappeared and the rear door of a commercial space opened up. I stepped into a very small dimly lit room and the door closed behind me. Hanging on the wall was a white stretch cotton boxer bodysuit with a note:

Take off your shoes, socks, watch, wallet, and clothes into locker number 2. Then put on the bodysuit.

I took off my clothes and shoes. When I put them in the locker they slid down and out the back. I turned to see a side door open as I closed the locker and then was blinded by a camera flash. The door closed again to the distant sound of several woman laughing. I quickly put on the white cotton bodysuit and started lacing it up when the door opened again. I closed the buckles on the bodysuit and noticed there was no visible way to open them again. A bright red light in the next room was pointed in my face and the door closed behind me. A women standing under the light handed me a clipboard and a red sharpie and said

Sign here.

Holding out her red fingernailed finger to the clipboard. I took the pen still dazzled by the lights I could see it was a photocopy on dark blue paper but in the bright red light could not see what exactly. I signed in the box at the bottom and as my eyes adjusted I could see the top of the paper had a copy of a Polaroid of me naked in the change room next to a copy of my drivers license. Before I had a chance to protest the board and pen were snatched away and I was directed to walk past the lights and wait to the left. I walked through a doorway into a large factory floor space and stood next to another man looking embarrassed in a white cotton bodysuit.

Three more cheers and bouts of laughter a few minutes apart preceded three more Tryboys as we were being referred to coming in to be lined up. The five of us just stood there in the corner of the large high ceiling hall. As I looked around I could see along one side of the big room, a very large trampoline with a clear plastic sheet underneath, a large mirrored table and blue blow up pool. Spotlights from a stage shone on our faces and I could not clearly see the others or the women but I could hear quiet talking and laughing. A tie down strap looped over me and pulled me up on to my toes as it pinned my arms to my sides. I could see the shadow of a short but shapely woman walk down the line behind us. I felt a soft football helmet pull over my head and I could see in the shadow two long floppy ears attached to the sides.

Over the a load speaker I heard "Legs apart!" Less than a second passed before I heard the man on my left make a muffled cry followed quickly by myself and the others as the short lady took to our balls one at a time with a rubber crop. At the end of the line she said: "You get your instructions once."

She peeled off a sticker and said to the man on my left. "You are Dachshund, what are you?" Another thwack to Dachshunds balls before asking again "What are you?" and he replied:

"I am Dachshund."

And another thwack, "I am Dachshund. Ma'am!" - said the Lady with the crop

He quickly confirmed: "Yes Ma'am. I am Dachshund"

Another groan but I didn't know why just then. Next it was my turn,

"You are Poodle, what are you?" -- instructed the crop lady.

I said, "I am Poodle" and got a thwack to the balls to remind me -- Ma'am.

The other three were named "Toy", "Corgi", and "Schnauzer". We all got a doggie name sticker slapped onto the side of our butt cheek, to golf claps from the other women on a stage behind lights somewhere to our left.

We were told that we would play some games and the winners would be servants for the weekend. The other Tryboys could apply again next week if they wanted.

I looked down at my aching crotch to see red lip stamps from the shorter ladies crop -- it had a red stamp in the end. I wanted to cup them for comfort but the tie down had my arms securely pinned to my sides. The first game of the night was referred too as "Whirlpool". Above the blow up pool were two ropes and a stepladder at each end outside the pool. The pool had a shallow layer of foamy water.

The rules were explained; Each Tryboy had to swing from one rope to the other, step onto the step ladder and wait for the next game. If they missed the ladder they had to get out the end they came in and wait at the back of the line to try again.

No points or time limits were mentioned.

I was first in line. From the top of the stepladder I could see some women standing behind the spotlight and the little red light of one with a video camera. The crop lady pulled the first rope toward me. As she pulled the rope wound up. I took the rope handle and swung out. I spun around backwards on my first swing so I decided to swing back until the rope unwound a little more so I could see the jump to the next rope. It spun faster. Five or six revolutions later I was dizzy but it slowed down enough for me to try. As I spun around and swung closer I felt like I was swinging crooked. I tried to correct and just got more off course. I was loosing strength in my arms so made an attempt and caught nothing but air and fell ass first into the warm pink foam. Laughter ensued.

As I climbed out I noticed that the white cotton boxer bodysuit was now pink and transparent. One after the other all of us swung and missed to hoots and cheers from the unseen women (and one of the other guys).

The second time through the ropes weren't wound up and I caught the other rope first time. My wet hands slipped straight off and I fell in the pink foam again, as did all the others. With less laughter, but more applause this time.

Third time through the rope in the middle was knotted by the crop lady and I made it across. Schnauzer, next after me, was the only one who did not make it the third time, was taken away.

The four of us now pink wet and translucent faced "Trample". A large trampoline had the middle of the mat removed and replaced with thick clear plastic sheet. The sheet was slightly cone shaped. Above the tramp', there were three dog chew toys. We all slid into the middle and started sitting back to back.

The short lady said on the whistle to reach up for a chew toy.

She blew the whistle and I tried to stand and with still wet feet slipped back down. Someone stood on my chest as I slid to the middle and he pulled one of the toys releasing a bucket of water on us all. The rope pulled him up two meters or so out of the way. The rest of us slipped and slid struggling just to stand. I slipped over; as my face pressed into the plastic sheet I saw a laptop and web cam underneath. I got to my feet and to the second toy and was pulled up to dangle wet and soapy above the other two Tryboys. I could here splashing and struggling and after a few seconds one more joined us dangling and dripping in the spotlight.

The next game "The Thrust cart", was a backwards tricycle with no seat. It had knee rests either side of the rear wheel. Above the small two front wheels were short handles. A plank was hinged so that pushing forward on it with the groin pushed the peddles and each turn of the peddles pushed it back again. So one thrust turned the tricycle wheel half way round.

The Other two went first and I could hear cheers and groans as they made their way around the track. I just hung in the air until it was my turn. I was lowered onto the cart and my knees were strapped in.

"Lean forward". Was my first instruction and: "Bite the sausage". My only other.

As I let go of the rope I fell backwards and the short crop Lady had to help right the cart. I lent forward almost on all fours after that. Moving the cart meant thrusting the plank forward and quickly moving myself back out of the way to avoid getting hit on its return. Kneeling on the cart each of my bunny rabbit sex thrusts crushed my balls and drew: ...'oh's and 'arh's from the crowd.

I steered the cart toward the ramp with a dildo hanging above it and got a good run up. About half way up I ran out of speed and slowed. I made a few quick thrusts that quite hurt then the cart stalled and rolled back down the ramp, slapping my balls repeatedly on the way down. I spun around at the bottom and got claps and cheers for the effort. I was too sore but tired to continue... I asked to stop.

The crop Lady came over and said I could go... right after I got a bite of that sausage at the top of the ramp.

I shook my head and she said: Yes Ma'am and took to my ass with the crop.

I shouted "Yes Ma'am!" and she continued cropping me all the way up the ramp. I was thrusting so much I forgot to steer and I missed the dildo and rolled down the other side of the ramp. My balls caught another pounding and I locked the wheel to stop it.

I was left on the cart while the other two played a game of "Table balls". On opposite ends of a mirrored table the two Try's played a game of table tennis. Hands bound, water pales on their heads and a bat tied around their neck so it hung in their crotch. Every missed ball added water to their pale.

The crop Lady threw another ball in every few seconds so there were often three or four balls bouncing on the low-mirrored table at once. At the end of the game I was wheeled to laundry chute and slid down a slide into the gutter outside. My clothes and things followed in a plastic bag. I got dressed in the dark industrial street. A note in the bag said If I wanted to try out again I would need to return to the bus depot in my "uniform" and nothing else next Thursday night at 7.03pm.

To be continued...