GITJ Tangent Thread: Seeking Approval, p9

Seeking Approval, p9

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“Sam, you’re staring again!” Ashleigh laughed, slapping him right upside the back of his head, right where he sat on the short, strangely ornate wrought-iron fence in front of the sorority house. Sam had taken a seat, chatting with Sammi who - at the moment - was standing in front of him laughing, his face in her hands. “She’s a freshman!!”

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he replied, sheepishly, as he cast his eyes away from Sammi’s chest as she backed away and casually started rolling her shoulders in a little dance, to her own private beat, maybe remembering a song from earlier. He had been, he scolded himself, he had been staring at her boobs again. And this was right after the even younger Sofia caught him ogling the curvy sway of her hips from behind as they walked here from the bar.

The last hour at “The Old Boot” had been Sam and the girls on the dance floor. He’d found himself surrounded, not just by them, but by the whole barfull of college women who, after they’d had enough cheap beer, were all ultra eager to bounce and jump and sway to the music while their dates and male hangers-ons mostly stayed off to the side. The soundtrack had changed from late 90’s rock to something more generically electronic and pop-y, and the girls all loved it. For himself, Sam was just dumbfounded by his luck. His four new friends were all but sandwiching him between them, not allowing him any chance to do anything but stand there and awkwardly dance, watching them as they moved, feeling them as they pressed into him. Jesus they were soft, they were strong, and maybe because of the shitload of beer he’d had by this point he’d found himself focusing intently on them, on their every single move. He couldn’t look away, he could barely speak. They seemed to get more and more alluring with every cheap cup he drank from that pitcher that never seemed to empty. While on the floor Ash, Mimi and Sofia had all the typical quasi-sultry hot-girl moves, and Sammi obviously prided herself on being some sort of actual trained dancer.

“Oh, I don’t mind!!” Sammi laughed, shimmying herself in front of him on the sidewalk with a set of tits that seemed two cup sizes bigger than what he’d originally would have guessed her at. The blue and pink streaks in her hair caught the streetlights fetchingly. “Knockers. That’s what they’re there for, eh?!!”

The girls, having tolerated the bar scene long enough at The Old Boot, had earlier pulled Sam off the dance floor just before last call. “Wanna go to an after-hours??” Ashleigh had asked him, as he watched Mimi, her tall Korean sorority sister, still swaying slowly and bobbing her head to the beat of the music. She’d taken off her varsity letter jacket to dance, and jesus lord the figure on this girl; her tits were as big, if not bigger, than Ashleigh’s, creamy tan in a plunging black top.

He hadn’t really had a choice, he figured. If Sam wanted the chance to finish the night off with Ashleigh rather than just retreat back to his lonely little hotel room with a solid beer buzz, it would have to be going to this after hours place first. But, cool, I guess! Sam easily agreed with drunken, energetic aplomb, and soon the four of them were out on the streets, headed to the girls’ sorority. Kappa Gamma Delta apparently ran a very, very exclusive after-hours out of their basement. He’d love it, they told him.

And so here they were, waiting for Mimi - who wanted to drop her jacket back up in her room before they all headed down the steps that, just beyond the fencing, lead from the street down to the basement of the KGD house. “House” may have been a little bit of a misnomer; here in the city, on the outskirts of the urban Westhall University, it was more of an old four-story residence building, sandwiched in the middle of the block in between others. Stonework in this part of town was old, pseudo-Gothic, gray granite. Modern touches here and there and a row of old trees on each side of the narrow street softened the look, but the scene was classic, old-world, dark. Quieter here than around the bars, for sure. Undergrads heading home for the night still roamed the streets, but in fewer numbers.

“Here she is!” Sammi sang, as Mimi and her tits bounced down the stone steps which, in contrast, ran up from the street into the main entrance to the sorority house. The quaking of her big chest which dramatically joggled and jiggled as she descended while watching her feet on the steps, immediately drew Sam’s eye when he stood and turned to watch her.

Holy shit, he marveled, that girl’s built like a porn star.

They all were, really, he’d decided. Where Mimi was athletically luscious, head-to-toe, a bit more square of shoulder and round of hip, Ashleigh was tall, thin and just plain-ol’ stacked. Both built for pleasure, blessed by nature. And even the littlest, Sofia. At some point in the night she’d found a moment to tighten the wide, black belt around her waist, accentuating even further the dramatically lush hourglass of her figure in her grey, cowl-neck sweater dress. Her breasts may likely have been as equally enormous as Mimi’s and Ashleigh’s, just more covered up. And, dang, Sam thought, stealing another glance at Sammi as the slender girl stretched her arms above her head, still giddy with energy, this other Freshman’s not too far behind. Laura’s little sister, huh?

“You ready?” Ashleigh asked, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of his reverie. She looked him in the eyes and they connected, there, for a second, her own gaze glittering with its own light. He’d noticed that not only about Ashleigh, tonight, but the other three girls as well. Something in their eyes, something in the way that they seemed to capture light was eerily similar among them. They seemed to be able to take it all in and hold it within themselves, like magic, glimmering gems. Asheligh’s, though, at the moment, pulled him in with a particular intimacy that grabbed him by the loins, reminded him of the kiss they shared back at the bar. If he played his cards right, he figured, there might be more of that. “Let’s head in…” she suggested.

Just then, just as he’d turned with Ashleigh to take his first step down, Sam was startled by a voice, a guy’s, apparently calling to him:

“Watch out - <hic!> - brother!!” the guy - anonymously grungy, in a knit hat and long neo-hippie hair, old cargo shorts and tie-dye, walking by on the other side of the street  - yelled out drunkenly, “You’re headed into the - <hic!> - ‘oven!!”

Under her breath, Sofiia whispered something, soft and sibilant.

Sam had turned his head back to see the guy, now laughing, take no more than two more steps and then suddenly stumble, tripping into a bush. The dude stopped laughing and, as Sam turned back away, he heard retching.

“That guy’s in rough shape…” Sam offered, but thinking to himself Wait, why would he say that? ‘Headed into the oven’? And did I actually hear him say ‘oven’, or…something else?

But, before he knew it, he was being pulled enthusiastically down the stairs by Ash, the other three girls right behind them; he felt a couple hands on his shoulders, helping guide him. The stairs were dark, and ended below street level at a big door of blackened wood, heavy and bound with black iron. The symbols “ΚΓΔ”, also in black iron, impressively marked the entry. Ashleigh knocked - three times short, a pause, and then a fourth. Then she whispered a word which Sam didn’t catch and within a moment the door opened inward.

A warm light, lurid with magentas, reds and purples, poured out, along with the first deep beats of music. Whoever had opened the door had, like, disappeared.

“Welcome to the Kappa Gamma Delta after-hours!” Ashleigh laughed, having spun to face Sam, take both his hands in hers, and walk him into the strangely-lit room. Throbbing music, equally strange, filled the air along with warm, floral smells. Ash’s eyes were alive with excitement and the promise of a wild evening, and though their magic excited him it actually made Sam a bit nervous. He wasn’t, uh, really used to this sort of place. “We call it ‘The Milk Club’…”

“Haha I’m not really, uh, used to this sort of place,” Sam thought aloud, feeling sort of like he had all night: not quite in control of what he was doing or saying…or thinking. He heard the door shut behind him, sealing off the world with an audible hiss.

The girls - Mimi, Sammi and Sofia - moved from behind him, giggling at his discomfit, and began to help him with his jacket. It had been turning into a chilly evening, and he’d been glad he wore it. “You won’t need that in here, son…” Sammi said, pulling the jacket down his shoulders.

“…Kappa Gamma keep you warm.” Mimi finished, helping him pull his right arm out.

“It is…cozy in here,” Sam agreed, looking around the shadowy place, as he slipped his left arm free. It was indeed warm, almost moistly so, the air laden with a sultry scent he recognized. “Is that incense?” he asked aloud, sniffing the air, then breathing deep.

“Haha sorta…” Ashleigh laughed, watching his face as he took in his new surroundings, let the calming vapor settle into his lungs. It was a similar reaction most guys had, their first time here. “What do you call it again, Sofia?”

“Cloud of Love,” the smaller girl answered proudly, her smile a bit shy. Sam’s jacket lay in her arms.

“Cool…” Sam nodded, glancing around for other patrons, looking about a bit more. It was not a huge place, the main area maybe the size of good-sized classroom. A dark wooden bar sat at the far end, and what looked like alcoves lined two of the walls. Some had thick burgundy curtains drawn across them, some were open, revealing deep cushioned seats, like little bedded rooms, plushly appointed and dancing with candlelight. There were some other people here, in the deep magenta shadows. How many, it was hard to say.

He followed Sofia and Ashleigh as they stepped him to the left, where they could hang his jacket. Along the wall where a long row of coat hooks stretched, several candles in iron sconces lit an array of photos, some black and white portraits, some in color, all of the same size, all framed in simple, dark wood and hung on the panelling. “What are all these?”  Sam asked, squinting  to see, checking them out as Sofia placed his jacket on a hook. They were all women, girls, a collection of maybe thirty or forty portraits from different eras it seemed. Posed, classic photos they were, each woman in a black, high-necked top and a string of pearls.

“These are our prominent alumni, women who have risen to, y’know - ‘help the cause’. Sisters from other chapters, mostly,” Ashleigh explained, floating in behind him, right hand coming to rest on his left shoulder as he looked from picture to picture. “Kappa Gamma Delta’s been around a long time - look at that one, from the 1800’s,” she said, pointing to a particularly faded portrait, mounted high, “centuries, actually, not always under the same name.” The proud looking woman’s name was etched into a small brass plate, across the frame's bottom edge.

“There might be a couple you actually recognize,” Ashleigh continued, perusing the photos herself. In a moment, she had what she was looking for. “Oh, yeah, this one,” she said, stepping him a bit to his right, pointing to a picture of a striking young woman with intense green eyes. By the hairstyle and coloration of the picture, Sam guessed it was from the late sixties or early seventies. ‘Penelope Hayworth’ read the nameplate, in scripted font.

“She’s, like, a politician, right?” Sam asked, recalling the name and - yep, the face and figure - from some news story recently, “but, how old is that picture? The woman I’m thinking of is only in her, like, twenties or thirties.” And is famous for pictures from that press conference, he remembered, the way she looked in that skirt. An ass that could conquer nations.

“Yah, she’s congresswoman from Georgia, running for Senate this year. Very progressive, big advocate for women,” Ashleigh explained, “and a redhead…like me <giggle!>” She eased Sam down the wall a bit more, to look at another pic. “And I guess she’s aged well…” she said offhandedly, moving on.

“There are a bunch of redheads up here,” Sam commented, finding one, two, three or four more just at first glance. He turned his head to look at Ashleigh, smiling. “Maybe one day you’ll be up here, famous too!” he praised, bringing a wide, goofy smile to his date. “Like…’Harper Berlich’ here,” he said. raising his hand to tap his finger to another auburn-haired girl, hazel-eyed and gorgeous, in a fresh, modern photo, “What's her story?”

He noticed that Sofia was now holding his right arm. The other girls had drifted off, maybe to get them drinks. “Harper Berlich comes from a long line, very powerful,” Ash began, “was head girl at one of our strongest chapters. Her last name is a reduction of the surname Berlichingen, after the German knight Götz von Berlichingen. He fought in the Peasant's Rebellion in Württemberg during the mid-1500's. But it’s the other side of her family that really made her a Kappa G girl. The crushing new Protestant repression after the Reformation forced Harper’s ancestors to-“

Sam’s eyes had glazed over, Ashleigh saw, glancing over at him as he stared at the photo. She giggled. She shouldn’t expect, she knew, for him to really have any sort of attention span unless-

Sam felt Ashleigh’s right breast push into his upper left  arm, and Sofia hug his right one tighter. Ashleigh felt him perk up.

“Anyway, her ancestors were brought up with a noble name to disguise their true nature. Or something like that, haha,” she concluded.

“Wow,” Sam said, finally, shaking his head to bring himself back to the moment. It had been weirdly confusing to him. “Th-thanks for the history lesson.”

“Yeah, sorry, I have a good memory,” Ashleigh said, with a crooked yet somehow still shy smile.

“Ashleigh is our head girl,” Sofia spoke up, out of the blue. She’d been mostly quiet tonight, but to Sam her voice was always entrancing, with her Italian accent. As young as she was, it was sultry, and seemed to come from an older place. “la nostra ape regina…”

“Really??” Sam remarked, “Wow I didn’t know! That’s impressive!”

Again the shy but crooked smile, and Ashleigh waved the compliment away. “Oh thanks but we’re a small chapter, only sixteen girls,” she explained, “but we’ve become super international, though, over these last few years. So we’ve had a couple visits this year already from some of our older sisters, alumni from here and from other chapters, to speak, meet with us, meet with sisters from around the world, welcome them.”

Ashleigh scanned the portraits.

“Like, Traci Graham up there,” she said, pointing to a photo of a pretty blonde, again in a black top and classic pearls, “Princeton chapter. Billionaire before she turned thirty. She started off with a few cookie shops, sandwich places. Now she has a, like, food products empire. She came to speak with us just last month. It was super inspiring.”

“She is very tall,” Sam heard Sofia add. The comment, strange as it was, excited him for some reason. All this, in fact, was strangely arousing to Sam. All these successful, powerful women, a whole wall of them, gazing down at him with eyes that all held a same eerie magic. Maybe it was the beer or the effects of whatever happened during those videos earlier, but he couldn’t help but think how all their eyes, though different in color, were so very similar. All had that internal light he saw in Ash, Sofia, Sammi and Mimi. Even in the oldest photos, the black and whites, the sepias. There was something there.

“So, uh,” Sam began, finally, turning to look at Ashleigh, be struck again by her eyes. She must have ditched her glasses earlier. “Are all Kappa Gammas so pretty?” He sounded as earnest as the day he was born.

Her mouth dropped open. “You think I’m pretty?!?” Ashleigh gushed, hugging his arm in full, squeezing him giddily as she bounced up and down. She began to giggle and laugh.

“Uhhh…” Sam smiled bashfully, his eyes darting down her torso to watch the jiggle show. Her large breasts, squashed into his arm, bulged healthy above the neckline of her tight black bodysuit, its arms pulled fetchingly down her thin shoulders. The candlelight from the sconces on the wall flickered shadows across her chest, while the colored lights from above played hues of deep violet and pink over her smooth, alabaster skin. He felt himself quickly becoming mesmerized.

Leaning in suddenly, Ash gave him a chaste kiss, on his cheek. Her lips lingered for a moment, but she quickly pulled away, leaving a spot that burned like ice, a persisting pleasure.

“How about Sofia,” Ashleigh asked, a new mischief in her voice as she bit her lower lip, “do you think she’s pretty, too?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to look down at the young girl to his right. From behind a few wisps of black, curly hair, she blinked up at him with huge, dark eyes that glimmered with something older than her eighteen years. There were things almost cartoonish not only about her comic-book curves, but also her big features, like she was the work of some anime artist. In their strange asymmetry, though, there was a deep, alluring beauty.

Sam drew a breath but, before he could answer, a drink was being shoved into his hands. It was not big but heavy enough that he needed both to hold it.

“How about us, mate?” Sammi asked, her Australian drawl announcing her boisterous return, along with the cocktail she had unceremoniously forced upon him, “Do you think we’re pretty?”

“Yes, are we pretty?” came Mimi’s voice, pulling up alongside Sammi in front of him. The tall Asian junior looked at Sam with wide eyes as if daring him to look down into the mountain valley of cleavage she had squashed between her arms.

“y-y-yes,” he answered, in a small little voice as his arousal doubled down under the attentions of these four beautiful, incredibly well-built girls. They were becoming even more laser-focused on him, and once again he could not believe his luck. “Y-you’re all very pretty…”

The four of them exploded into more giggles, closing in on him further and squeezing him into a four-way hug, full breasts squashing him from all sides. They held him there, surrounded, as he felt hands groping him, more kisses on his cheeks. He had begun to blush very hard, and tried not to spill his drink.

Jesus Christ what’s happening? he marveled, overwhelmed by the affection, a bit daunted by the lurid intimacy of this small, dark place with its strange music. He felt already like he was swimming in a cloud of estrogen, and it was thickening around him.

“Nice…goblet,” Sam managed, finally, focusing again on his new drink as the girls eventually backed off. Mimi and Sammi had each stood directly in front of him, shoulders now stock-straight. He’d found himself immediately staring at them but was somehow able to pull his attention away from Mimi’s chest and the new shocks of neon yellow streaking Sammi’s hair.

“It’s a chalice, actually,” Ashleigh told him from his left, petting his upper arm,  “There’s a difference.”

“Wh-what is it?” he asked, raising the carved crystal vessel, heavily, up to the light for inspection. Glimmers reflected off its facets, made whatever cocktail it was inside roil with life. He brought it close to his face, looking down into the glass. He heard a whooosh in the air around him, and looked up.

All four girls were smiling at him, holding drinks, now, all in similar crystal gobl-…chalices. Where…?

“It’s our own secret witches brew,” Ashleigh answered with a giggle, her left hand coming underneath the foot of Sam’s fancy beverage glass, urging it towards him, “Drink.”

“Yes, but…what is it?” he asked, able for the moment to resist, “What’s in it?” He was not really used to hard alcohol, and certainly didn’t make a habit of drinking anything if he didn’t know what it was. The body should be a temple, right?

“Only good stuff,” Sammi said, looking over the rim of hers directly at him, waiting for him to take the first sip.

“Very yummy-yummy,” Mimi agreed, holding her drink up as well. Sofia was merely looking at him, expectantly.

“It’s our version of the Pink Panther,” Ashleigh answered, “try it, you’ll like it.”

Sam looked back down into his crystal cup. ‘Pink Panther?’ Hard to tell in the eerie magenta light, but there was enough plain candlelight for him to see that the drink was white, like milk. He was also aware that Ash didn’t really answer his question. Maybe it was like a - what did they call those? - White Russian. “B-but it’s not…pink.”

Ashleigh cocked her head at him, amused. “Why?” she asked, “Would you like it to be? Maybe we can do something about that. Sofia…”

At that, the group's eyes were drawn to the dark-haired Italian girl, who had smiled and promptly slid the tip of one finger between her lips, into her mouth. Just as promptly she then slid it back out again, and stuck it in his drink.

“Hey..!” he exclaimed, too slow to pull his cup away. But then his eyes widened.

“Whoah….” came Sam’s sign of amazement as, right in front of his eyes, his drink - with Sofia’s finger still stuck in it - changed from white to a vivid pink. He looked at Sofia, who was pulling her finger from the drink, sliding it back in her mouth to dry it with a lick. With just her finger?? “How did you..???”

Ashleigh made a strange little move with her fingers, holding two together then curling them downwards, for him to see. Something inside Sam clicked; unbeknownst to him Ashleigh was trying out a trigger that had been implanted in him during the hypnotherapy earlier this evening. “Now drink,” came Ashleigh’s command, her voice taking on a different timbre, one deeper and which seemed to eerily echo through his ears and make his cock stiffen in his rumpled khakis. Suddenly he wanted to obey her.

“Yayyyyy!” the girls all cooed, watching him take his first sip.

Sam didn’t know what to make of the drink. It was delicious, remarkably so, any hint of vodka or whatever masked by the other ingredients. Something vanilla? Something sweet? Something almost…smoky, metallic? And, of course, something like milk. Whatever it was, he loved it, and had to keep himself from gulping it.

“Drink it slow, it’s strong,“ Ash advised, taking her first sip herself as the others all did the same. Through the heavy air their eyes were all locked on Sam, and Sofia seemed to be whispering something sibilant.

“Let’s go this way…” Ash finally suggested, leading Sam by the arm towards the center of the room as he took another draught. The other girls helped usher him inwards, to a small high-top table, one of several in the darkly intimate space.

Sam took the moment to look around, at the myriad of tapestries that softened the curves of the ceiling, hung everywhere to muffle sound and give the place a dark, vaguely Eastern, den-like vibe. He then noticed that the colors of the lights, mauve and magenta, pink and purple, were becoming strangely both deeper and more vivid to him. The music, still throbbing with a slow, electronic beat, now grabbed him more profoundly, seeming to shake and settle into his bones. Even the feminine scents of the place suddenly seemed more gripping, the touch of Ash’s hand on his arm more intensely pleasant. It was like all his senses were being heightened. What is in this drink? he wondered, even as unconsciously he was taking another sip.

As the girls sat their glassware on the dark wooden table, began to chat about something among themselves, Sam was trying to get a better idea as to what this place really was. An after hours place? Not like the beer-soaked ones he was used to in the frat basements of his alma-mater, that was for darn-tootin’. He looked around at the other patrons. Only a single other high-top was taken, by a pair of pretty blond girls - who could have been twins - that kept stealing glances their way. At the small, dark wooden bar - manned from behind by a towering, dark-skinned girl in a black leather corset which squashed her big breasts heavenward - another couple sat. A girl, a college-aged guy, a big silver punch bowl. There were a few cushioned booths, shrouded in darkness against the wall they entered from, one which was occupied by shadowy figures sharing what looked like an ornate hookah pipe. Did he see chains around the neck of one of smokers? There were also the alcoves, several of which were shrouded behind thick curtains. From one he thought he heard a moan, a man’s, and then a high cackle. But maybe that was just the music.

“So, uh, what are those cages for?” Sam asked, nodding towards the pair of tall, narrow prisons near the bar, “Go-Go Dancers?”

“Exactly,” Ashleigh replied.

Then why do they need those padlocks? Sam wondered.

“That’s Emily over there,” Ashleigh said to him, noticing his knitted brow. She nodded towards a solidly built girl in a tight black dress, big of bosom, who seemed to have an older man pinned against a wall. “She’s so smart, a history major, was our head girl until she graduated last year,” Ash went on to explain, “she’s taking a job, in fact, at the external trial site for the Product, where Sammi’s going to be doing her internship. That reminds me - did you get your application in, to that doctor?“

“Yes Mommmmm,” Sammi drawled, rolling her eyes and laughing at her older sorority sister. Sam had noticed a change in Ash, ever since the girls had appeared back at the Old Boot. Around them she didn’t seem quite the same goofy college girl, but rather like the matronly mother-hen of the group, steering the evening. Sammi apparently had respect for Ashleigh’s wisdom and direction. Though she had begun to sway to the music, standing alongside the table, drink back in her hands, she obviously heeded her older sorority sister. “I just sent it in.”

“Good girl,” Ashleigh smiled, taking the tease well, with casual aplomb. She noticed Sam’s eyes were still on Emily and Dr. Gallagher. “Em’s here visiting, catching up with one of her professors,” Ash continued, as Sam watched the curvy, dark haired girl feed the man his drink, from a crystal glass similar to their own, “she was one of his…favorite students.” The man, in contrast to Emily’s strong, youthful curves, was old, looked withered, looked…shrunken. “Lots of us here…date older guys,” Ashleigh concluded, as Sam seemed to be lost in thought.

“Why is a history major going to work at a geriatrics practice?” he spoke, really not even realizing he was saying it aloud, but thinking back on what he’d heard about Evolution's new clinical testing site. That’s not very smart.

Quick to answer, Sammi jumped in. “I’m a fashion major!” she announced, “And I can’t wait to start!” To that, she threw back her head, mane of technicolor hair catching the lights, and gave a wild laugh. “Woooooot woot!” she called out, and hugged Mimi. Ashleigh balled up a napkin, threw it at Sammi with a cute little laugh.

Shaking his head - I’ll never understand women - Sam put his drink down and began to chat with Ashleigh, the other three talking amongst themselves, giggling. Both his elbows supporting him on the high table, Ash had snuggled her tall frame in alongside him, posed just right so he could easily glance down into her pale, full cleavage when he wanted, the arms of her black Lycra top pulled down her shoulders. But, still struggling to remain polite, a gentleman, he resisted as best he could, instead looking at the other girls - who at the moment seemed to be paying him no mind, occupying themselves while he and their Kappa Gamma head girl spoke. Ashleigh seemed to be doing most of the talking.

Generously letting Sam watch her three sisters, Ash nuzzled his cheek with her nose, rubbing her forehead into him, kissing at his face. She knew she had him well on his way, and encouraged him from time to time to keep sipping his Pink Panther. If he’d noticed that his cup never seemed to need refilling, he hadn’t said a word. She loved this sort of moment, she always had, watching an unwitting man slowly drink in her love magic and fall gradually deeper under her spell.

Sam continued to watch, nodding and responding to Ashleigh when he needed. The girls had taken to moving to the music in front of him. Not necessarily dancing, just sort of…moving, still chatting amongst themselves. Once in a while one girl would whisper something to the other, eyes locked on him, and they would laugh. Sofia would giggle, Mimi titter, Sammi would snort. If they were secretly teasing Sam, he  barely noticed, caught up rather in ogling their figures as Ashleigh continued to affectionately nestle into him with nose rubs, little kisses, petting his hair, talking to him. She knew how entranced he was by her sisters’ slowly rolling hips, their unusually luscious sways. She saw how gobsmacked he was by their tits, Sammi having let herself grow bigger than Ash had seen in a while, Mimi and Sofia already so large. And she felt how hypnotized he was by their beauty, accentuated by their glamours and cantrips, made even more potently intoxicating, more irresistible by the neuroadjustments she’d made on him earlier. Oh, tonight is going to be goooood, Ashleigh thought, feeling herself wettening already as she mischievously bit Sam’s outer ear.

“So hey, are you ready to go have some real fun?” Ashleigh finally asked, whispering directly into Sam’s right ear as she stood, seeing he was already following, doing the same. The other three girls turned towards them, suddenly stopping, at attention, expectant. “We can go grab one of those alcoves, the five of us, have some private time…”

“S-s-sure,” Sam answered, watching as the three other girls downed what was left of their Pink Panthers, wiping their lips and setting their glassware down. Not saying anything, for the moment, they suddenly looked…hungry. His throat had become tight, and his pulse had started to race. If he hadn’t really known it before, now he was getting more convinced: this is some sort of sex club, isn’t it? He was understandably anxious: what was about to happen?? “Sh-should I finish my drink?”

Looking down into his carved crystal chalice, which previously had seemed eternally full, he saw now that it was empty.

Sam’s heart began to race even more as the three girls each grabbed hold of his arms and, laughing the whole way, dragged him towards one of the unoccupied nooks, the largest, half-obscured by a thick velvet curtain. Ashleigh followed behind him, hands on his back, urging him forward. The other patrons glanced their way, the women smiling secretly, as Sam put up his half-hearted protests. “Hey hey hey, ladies!” he laughed, “uh…gentle!”

“Oh, we will be gentle,” Mimi smiled, her brilliant eyes glittering merrily into his, “we will be oh..so…gentle.”

“Yes, bambino, very gentle,” Sofia agreed, her voice softer, wide eyes deep with promise.

“So. Fucking…” Sammi began, throwing wide the curtain behind her, opening up the alcove for their entrance, “…GENTLE..!"

+++Sorry, but per Patreon Guidelines, the rest of this post is not available here. Please reach out to me ++

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written on commission.

special thanks again to Joyce Julep for letting our little world intersect with hers, and for not slapping me for snatching some of her ideas or any outright plagiarism :)

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