A Night at the Club by The_Technician
This is the story of a young woman’s night at a club with her college roommates. It ends up being a night that totally changes her life. , WARNING! All of my writing is intended for adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY and should not be attempted in real life.
All characters involved in sexual activity in this story are over the age of 18. If you are under the age or 18 or do not understand the difference between fantasy and reality or if you reside in any state, province, nation, or tribal territory that prohibits the reading of acts depicted in these stories, please stop reading immediately and move to somewhere that exists in the twenty-first century.
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement of limitation of use is included with the article. This story is copyright (c) 2019 by The Technician.
Individual readers may archive and/or print single copies of this story for personal, non-commercial use. Production of multiple copies of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format is expressly forbidden.
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When six college girls room together, certain personality types become apparent. There is always the alpha female– or at least one girl who thinks she needs to be in charge of the rest. Dianne is the one whose name is primary on the lease. Everyone else is a flatmate. In addition, she has everyone’s classes and activities on her calendar. And she keeps adding group activities for all six of us… or at least for the five of them.
She is assisted in planning everyone’s life by Shelly, the activities director. Shelly knows everything that is going on in town or on campus and knows what each of us… or all of us… would really like. There isn’t a club in a hundred miles that she doesn’t have complete information on.
There is the ever-faithful follower… in this case, twin followers, Mary and Marcy. The twins are like a double shadow wherever Dianne goes on campus. It is like they draw power from her, and she draws power from them. Or at least she seems to have power over them.
Every group needs a class clown. Margarita– Margi– gets every class giggling at least once each day. She sees the funny side of everything that we do. And she isn’t satisfied unless one of us pees our panties at least once a week from laughing too hard.
And finally there is the dweeb… the little sister that tags along even when everyone keeps telling her to go home… the desperately shy girl who gets kicked around like a dog and keeps coming back for more. … That’s me.
I really don’t belong in this group. I’m not sure how I ended up as a flatmate or why Shelly asked me to room with them. They are way out of my league. But for some reason they invited me to join them and for some reason they keep me around.
Actually, I think they keep me around primarily to cook, clean, and do their laundry. I don’t complain, though, because even if I am the lowest in the group, I am still a member of one of the most elite cliques on campus. Besides, I could never afford to pay my share of the expenses for our apartment in cash and they count what I do as my share.
Then one Friday night– or to be more accurate, very early Saturday morning– Dianne, Shelly, Margi and the twins came home raving about this new club that they had discovered. “It’s gloriously decadent,” Mary and Marcy said in that weird unison way they have of speaking. “You really have to come with us next time.”
“You don’t really want me to go with you, do you?” I replied. “Besides, you know I could never afford it.”
“That’s the marvelous part,” Margi gushed. She was a little bit drunk and she gets very gushy when she has had too much to drink. “If you are a first time guest, you get in for free.”
“And you get free drinks for the evening,” Dianne said excitedly. That surprised me. Dianne is normally so cool and reserved. She never lets her emotions show. This had to be a really interesting club.
“What kind of a club is it?” I asked.
“One that is exactly what you dream of,” Shelly said, grabbing my hands and staring into my eyes as she said it.
I always get a little mushy inside when she does that. I have always thought of myself as straight and not at all kinky, but when she does that, I feel like I should kiss her… or let her kiss me… or throw myself flat on the ground at her feet with my face to the ground. I don’t know where those thoughts come from, but they pop into my head whenever she stares at me like that. And then I get all wet… and ashamed that I’m trembling like a whore in heat… and I get even wetter because of my shame. I’m not that way normally. It’s like she casts a spell over me and brings out a whole different me.
She often does that to me just before they leave. She will grab my hands, stare into my eyes, and tell me to make sure I finish the laundry or whatever while they are gone. I always just look down at the floor and mumble something like “Yes, ma’am.” I can hear them laughing as the door closes and I can feel my face flushing red with shame. But as soon as I am sure that they are gone, I flop onto the floor and rub myself to orgasm thinking about Shelly’s black eyes burning their way through me. Her eyes are actually dark brown, but for some reason I always remember them as deep black after she has been staring at me.
“OK,” I finally answered, “but I’m not sure I have anything to wear.”
All five girls began laughing and the twins said in unison, “Don’t worry, ma salope, no one will notice what you are wearing.”
I should have said no. I should have said I didn’t want to go with them. I should have said that, but I didn’t because I really did want to go with them. I wanted to be accepted by them and their friends… even if it was just as their maid or servant or whatever.
So I said, “Count me in.” Then I asked, “When are we going?”
Dianne answered, “Tomorrow night.”
Shelly smiled at me and said, “Actually that’s tonight, but it’s tomorrow after we sleep off last night.” She shook her head, gave me a really weird smile, and then said, “It’d be a lot easier if our days started at noon.”
“Yours usually do,” Margi said, and everyone laughed… except me. I was too scared to laugh. They were taking me to a club with them.
I barely slept the rest of that night… or morning… or whatever. A little after two the next afternoon, Shelly wandered out of her room into the kitchen where I was working and slowly turned me so I was facing her. “We want you to make a good impression tonight, so I think you should take a long hot bath and make sure that you are freshly shaved.” She stared into my eyes and added in a deep voice, “… everywhere. I don’t want to see even a hint of hair anywhere below your neck.”