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Subject: {ASSM} The Club: First Contact (FF,Sexfight)
Date: Mon, 27 Mar 2000 16:10:04 -0500
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The Club: First Contact
Karen St. James wheeled the BMW into the long
driveway. The concrete curved around the huge front
yard to pass in front of a set of dark paneled French
doors set deep within a shaded porch.
Karen parked under the shade of an enormous oak and
switched off the ignition. She regarded the house
with cool blue eyes behind dark glasses. She had a
pretty oval face with sandy blonde hair that bounced
in casual waves behind her ears and halfway down her
back. Her makeup was understated; a hint of mascara,
a suggestion of blush. Her lips were full and
sensual, painted with a pale salmon gloss.
She laid her sunglasses on the passenger seat, and
gathered up a file folder and her shoulder bag.. She
opened the car door to a cool April morning. Wind
ruffled the branches of the trees. Sunlight dappled
her face as she stepped towards the house's entryway.
She wore a short black skirt, ultra-sheer pantyhose,
and an emerald-green long-sleeved blouse with a square
low neckline that revealed the tops of her high, pert
breasts. On her feet were a pair of high-heeled
jet-black sandals; a little early in the season
perhaps; but it showed her shapely feet to good
advantage. At five-foot-seven, she was an elegant and
stylish package.
She looked at her Rolex. Right on time. She extended
her slender arm, and pressed the doorbell button.
Chimes sounded softly inside. One side of the French
doors opened to reveal a Latina woman in her late
twenties. She wore a white uniform dress that hugged
her generous breasts and hips. Her long dark hair was
thick and glossy.
Karen smiled and said, "Hi, there. I'm Karen St.
James. I think Ms. Cavanaugh is expecting me."
The woman in the uniform paused for a second. Her
eyes briefly swept up and down Karen, as if taking a
quick inventory.
Apparently she passed muster. The woman said, in a
lightly accented dusky voice, "Yes, please come in,
Ms. St. James."
Karen stepped in. The foyer was wide and brightly
lit. An old, faded rug rested on the polished
hardwood floor.
The uniformed woman said, "This way, please." She
started walking down the foyer and turned right into a
long hall. Karen followed a couple of steps behind.
She admired the sway of the Latina woman's hips under
the dress. And that flawless matte complexion!
Beautiful.
Karen followed the woman into a large living area.
Holly Cavanaugh sat at one end of an overstuffed
davenport. A sterling silver tea service rested on
the low antique coffee table before her. She smiled
brightly in greeting. She stood up and came around to
greet Karen.
"Karen, darling! How nice to finally meet you. I've
been looking forward to this for a while." Holly's
voice had a British accent, with a pleasant, lilting
tone. She extended her hands to Karen.
Karen took Holly's hands in her own, and squeezed
lightly. She smiled and said, "I've been anticipating
this myself. How wonderful of you to have me over."
Holly shook her head lightly. "Oh, no, it's my
pleasure. Please, sit down, dear."
Holly then turned to the dark-haired woman in uniform.
"Thank you, Lydia. That will be all for now. Please
see that we aren't disturbed for at least an hour."
Lydia said, "Yes, Ms. Cavanaugh." She turned quickly
and left the room through another door that led to the
back of the house.
Karen watched the scene with interest. There was a
hint of imperious tone to Holly's voice. And there
was a shade of defiance to Lydia's carriage as she
walked out of the room.
Karen sat down on the davenport, and Holly eased
herself down after Lydia left the room. Holly was
wearing a snug-fitting dark red skirt that ended three
inches above the slender knees. She had a jacket in
the same color over a powder blue blouse of a
semi-transparent weave. On finely muscled legs she
wore a pair of dark sheer stockings. Her feet nestled
in classic high-heel pumps with open toes.
Holly had a bright animated face framed with short
light brown hair that formed a parentheses for her
head. Her nose was small and pixyish. She wore
little makeup. Her eyes were her most striking
feature. They were pale, about the color of a fine
Chardonnay, and they gave Holly a look of startling
intensity. Karen found herself being drawn into those
pale eyes.
Holly busied herself pouring tea while they chatted
lightly about the fine spring weather and other
trivia. After Karen took a couple of sips of
excellent Earl Grey, Holly picked up the folder that
Karen brought over and opened it.
Karen put down the teacup. Now it was business.
Holly glanced at the contents of the folder. She said
softly, "All right, dear, just for the purposes of
verification, who recommended our little club to you?"
"Trinidad DeVries," Karen said.
"And what was the password that dear Trini gave you?"
Holly smiled at Karen and ran the tip of her tongue
over her pale red lips.
Karen pause a second. She started to speak, then
stopped.
Holly prompted, "Go ahead, dear. Just say it."
Karen blurted, "Hot to twat." She giggled.
Holly laughed. "That's our Trini. Somewhat juvenile,
but she is a luscious package, isn't she?"
Karen smiled. "She is indeed."
Holly asked, "So, have you two....?"
Karen said, "No, not yet. I've certainly thought
about it. But then, after a workout at the gym, she
mentioned this little club. It sounded like it might
fit my...tastes."
Holly put down the folder. "I suppose it could. And
we are always on the lookout for people who possess
the right qualifications."
Karen leaned forward and asked, "So. Is it all erotic
fighting? Is that what everyone does?"
Holly said, "It is mostly catfighting and sexfighting.
There are a few members who prefer straight
wrestling. We try to accommodate them."
Karen asked, "So how, exactly, does it work?"
Holly stood up. "It's a little warm in here. I'm
going to take off my jacket."
She removed the dark red garment. She wore no bra
under the sheer blouse. Her breasts were easily
visible. They were not too large, about the size of
the bone-china teacups that held their tea. They were
crowned with pink protuberances set in a puffy dark
circle. They bounced slightly as Holly sat down
again. Karen felt a distinct twinge of arousal.
"Our little club started about five years ago. I
developed a taste for this type of thing in England
when I was a teen-ager. After I married, we came here
to live. Through discreet inquiries and the judicious
application of money, I found some other women who
share the same kink."
Holly paused and took a sip of tea. "All the women in
the club have some things in common. One, they're all
rich. Two, they all are married, and they keep this
little aspect of their sexual persona to themselves.
Three, they know that to disclose this to anyone means
the one think they could not bear: the end of the
sexual combat."
Karen said, "I can see why that is an incentive to be
discreet."
Holly nodded. "Now, a few miles away is large house.
It has no permanent inhabitants. Inside are several
rooms with different d cor and accoutrements. This is
where we have our...contests. Now, when you want a
little exercise, call me or e-mail me. I'll give you
the special phone number later. By messenger, you'll
receive a package containing a picture of your
opponent, vital statistics, rules for the fight, and
the date and time most feasible for your meeting.
"Show up there a few minutes early. You will have the
entire house for yourself. Refreshments will be
available should you desire them. Meet your opponent.
Talk with her if you wish or just have at it.
Whether a contest will be to first orgasm, or until
one of you has just had enough, is up to you.
Karen asked, "Who chooses the opponents I face?"
"We'll put the data from this form into the computer.
The software will match you with the women that meet
the desires and needs that you and the others
indicated. We did this to ensure that all women get a
chance for a bout."
Karen smiled. "This is a superb setup, Holly. It
must cost a pretty penny."
"It does indeed, sweetheart. Did you bring the
check?"
Karen reached into her bag. She pulled out the
cashier's check for five thousand dollars and handed
it to Holly. Holly took it and slipped it into the
file folder.
Holly said, in soft British tones, "Thank you ever so
much, darling. Now, would you do me the courtesy of
sharing with me the details of your first sexfight?"
Karen said, "Well, okay. It was in college. My
roommate and I were on the tennis team. One night, we
got into an argument after practice. I forget just
what it was about. It degenerated into a shoving
match in our room."
Karen stood up and stretched. While she talked, she
walked over to the large fireplace along on wall. She
looked in the antique mirror over the mantle. She
could see Holly sitting down, listening intently.
"We were both wearing our tennis skirts. We were
wrestling around on her bed. She grabbed my skirt and
pulled. It tore. I got mad and tore her blouse."
Holly got up silently and walked to the fireplace.
Karen's eyes were closed in memory, and she was
unaware of Holly's presence.
Karen continued. "Before you knew it, our clothes
were in absolute tatters, and we were locked together
in a hard embrace, my hand pulling her hair, her hands
pressing on my breasts. We were starting to breathe
very heavily, when suddenly she leaned forward, and -
OH!... GOOD GOD!... AHHHHHHH!"
Karen looked down. Holly had worked her hand
stealthily up her skirt, and had started fingering her
crotch through her pantyhose. Karen wore no panties.
The insistent fingers rubbed her pussy. She instantly
started to moisten and flow.
Holly whispered to her in a silky cultured voice.
"This is the best way to tell you, dear, that this is
no club for college girls. There are some of us who
can destroy you sexually in mere moments."
Holly stared at Karen with those piercing pale eyes as
she continued her assault on Karen's cunt. Karen's
face was contorted with desire and shock as her clit
felt the pressure of Holly's thumb.
Holly continued to speak into Karen's ear. "Ah,
you're going to lose it any second, dear. I'll have
you a quivering mass of jelly. Are you sure this is
what you want, darling?" Holly stuck out her tongue
and licked Karen's cheek.
Karen's legs started to buckle. Her knees spread
apart as Holly continued to rub her nylon covered
pussy. She could feel the approaching orgasm nearly
on her. Behind that was the absolute shock at the
unexpected invasion.
Holly extended her thumb upwards. Her sharp nail
sliced open the nylon crotch of the pantyhose. She
widened the rip with her fingers. Now she had Karen's
naked cunt at the mercy of her questing fingers.
Holly slipped a finger hard up Karen's vagina.
Karen gasped. She could not and would not allow
herself to be taken by this devilish bitch. With the
last bit of her will, she reached her hand down. She
felt the handle of a fireplace poker. She
straightened up slightly and placed one leg behind
Holly's. She took her left hand, reached out and
firmly grasped one of Holly's unholstered breasts.
She pinched and pushed simultaneously.
Holly squawked and fell over backwards onto the thick
hearth rug. Her breasts bounced and jiggled as she
hit. Her skirt rode up revealing the shaven pussy
beneath sheer dark hose.
Holly looked up, surprised. She laughed loudly.
"Well, someone unsheathed her claws."
Karen looked down. She was still breathing heavily.
Her cunt was soaked. As she moved, a drop of liquid
fell down through the ragged tear in her hose and hit
Holly's leg.
Karen reached out with the fireplace iron and poked
the tip of Holly's left breast. She was rewarded with
a quick inward hiss of air. She took her foot and
brought her shoe forward to rest on Holly's cunt. She
pushed with her leg and saw Holly's thick labia spread
outward under the hosiery. Karen worked the tip of
the poker around the thick nipple as she applied
rhythmic pressure with her foot.
Holly started to shudder. Her eyes closed and her
hips started to undulate. A low guttural moaning came
from deep within her.
Karen kept up the rude assault for another couple of
minutes. When she thought she could trust her temper
again, she stopped. She put aside the fireplace tool,
and reached down to Holly.
Holly took her hand and came to her feet. "Well, in
for a penny, in for a pound." She smiled at Karen.
Karen didn't smile back. In a low voice, she said,
"I'm no fucking amateur."
Holly looked in the mirror, patted her hair and
rearranged herself. She retrieved her jacket and
slipped it on. She said, "Of course you aren't, my
dear. I was just having a little fun. And I will
have to go to my room as soon as you leave, and finish
what you started, dear. You left me in quite a
state." She sighed theatrically.
As Karen gathered her things, Holly said, "Well, I'll
get this into the machine. If you want, you can
expect you first contest within the week. I'm sure
you'll acquit yourself marvelously. As for myself, I
can't wait until we meet in a bout. It should be
smashing."
Karen paused at the entry to the room. "Yes, I
definitely do want. And you left me in quite a state
as well." Karen felt her hostile feelings diminish.
All in all, the experience had been
quite...exhilarating.
Karen left her there in the living room as she made
her way to the front door. Lydia was there to open
the door for her. As she opened it, she leaned over
and whispered in Karen's ear, in words dripping with
venom, "I hope you fucked the bitch up."
Startled, Karen dumbly nodded. She walked to her car
and drove out, wondering. Just what had she gotten
herself into?
= To Be Continued =
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