Foreword: This is a work of fiction. None of the people in this story are real. None of these events ever happened. This story is nothing more than words that came from my imagination. Any similarity to any real people, places, or events is purely coincidental.
This story is a sequel to OH SHIT! OH SHIT is a sequel to TOILET SLAVE 2. TOILET SLAVE 2 is a sequel to TOILET SLAVE.
Operators of erotic story web sites and other collections, whether free or fee-based, have my permission to post and/or distribute my stories, provided that credit is given to "Hungry Guy" (firstname.lastname@example.org or email@example.com) as the author. You may not make changes other than fixing typos. Even beware of fixing typos, for I occasionally use local slang and dialects that may be flagged by your spell checker. Thanks.
Julie and two of her friends, Donna and Cindy, had come up from North Carolina to New York for a weekend of partying. They took Amtrak since the recent series of unexplained plane crashes made them fearful to fly.
Their hotel was on 34th street, across the street from Penn Station. After getting checked into their room, they quickly showered, changed, and went downstairs.
The next thing they did was to ask the concierge for advice as to where the best nightlife could be found. He pulled out a map and circled various hot spots, the casinos, the singles clubs, discos, and risquÈ bars.
They headed to the hotel's restaurant for dinner and to plan their evening. After ordering, Donna, who suggested the trip and who seemed to want to sow her wild oats after going through a messy divorce, pulled out that map that the concierge gave her. "Ladies! Let's check out one of these alternative clubs?"
"What's alternative about them?" asked Cindy.
Donna flipped through the booklet. "It says in here that a lot of these bars have really kinky special features to them."
"What does that mean?" asked Julie.
"Well," started Donna, "I'm not really sure, but it mentions one place, called the F/m Club. Says here that women dress up like a dominatrix and their guys go as slaves."
"I don't think we're dressed for the part," injected Julie.
Donna continued, "There's a place called Edge Play. We're real close, it's just over by 6th Avenue and 14th Street -- just a block away. Then there's the She-She Club."
"That sounds like a lezzie place," said Cindy.
"Then there's all kinds of raves," Donna continued. "But they're mostly all up in Harlem or out on the Island. Nothing near here..."
Julie interrupted, "What's it say about Edge Play?"
Donna flipped through the guide again. "Says that they have private dungeons for rent and -- what the hell?"
"What?" Julie asked.
"They've got live toilet slaves in the restrooms," Said Donna.
"What are toilet slaves?" Julie and Cindy asked together.
"I think I know," said Donna. "But I think I should let that be a surprise for you, ladies!"
"Do we have to dress, like, in all leather?" asked Julie.
"It says, 'Street clothes preferred for admittance,' so we should be fine," answered Donna.
"Then it's fine with me," said Cindy.
"Then Edge Play is where we're going?" asked Julie.
"Why not? It's close! It's kinky! It's what we came for!"
They finished their meal and left the hotel.
They went back to the train station and took the subway down to 14th street. From there, they walked across town to 6th Avenue and turned south.
They stood before a pair of glass doors in a stainless steel frame on an, otherwise, featureless gray stucco building, the entrance to Edge Play.
As they were waiting, other people came up to the club. Two young men walked past them and entered the club. Then a couple walked up to the door -- an interracial couple. Julie couldn't help but notice how they clung on to each other for dear life. And the clash between them was striking. The woman was black as coal, with black hair all in braids and with eyes like white beacons against her pitch-black face. The guy was white with flaming red hair and brilliant blue eyes. The black woman looked back at Julie and say, "Hi, I'm Keisha!"
"Hi. I'm Julie, and this is Donna and Cindy." Donna and Cindy nodded, and Julie Continued, "We're from out of town and thinking of going in here. You've been in there before?"
"Un-uh. We ain't never been in here befo'. Mah squeeze here, Eric," she gave him a kiss, "and I are jus' lookin' fo' some fun."
Eric just said, "Hi."
Julie could hardly understand her Bronx accent, "We think we're going to check it out. Maybe we'll see you inside."
"Sho'! See ya' inside."
Donna pulled one of the glass doors open, and held it for Keisha and Eric. Julie and Cindy followed, and the three of them entered and walked past the coat-check counter.
Cindy whispered to Julie and Donna, "Did you notice something weird about that guy?"
"Yeah," Donna answered, "he reeked of B-O!"
"Actually," added Julie, "his breath smelled more like raw sewage!"
"And did you notice his skin was, like, yellow?" added Donna.
"Yeah, there's definitely something wrong with him!" said Julie.
They walking down a short hallway, past a BDSM bookstore on the left and a novelty store on the right, around a corner and down a short hallway. The interracial couple had just entered an elevator as its doors were closing, but the two men were standing there arguing with the bouncer. As they walked up, they heard the bouncer say, "I'm sorry guys, but the minimum age is twenty five."
One of the guys was being belligerent, "What kind of bullshit is that? Legal age is twenty one! The law says you got to let us in!"
"No," the bouncer replied. "The law says that we can't let anyone under twenty one in, but we can set the minimum age higher if we want."
That one guy answered with, "Bullshit!" and swung at the bouncer. A split-second later, two more bouncers came out of a hidden door on the side of the corridor and grabbed the man by his arms. They dragged him to the door and threw him into the sidewalk where he banged his head on the glass bubble canopy of a pink Rolls Royce parked in front of the club, waking the snoozing chauffeur. The other guy walked out of his own accord and helped his friend to his feet.
"Sorry about that, ladies. The world is full of idiots," said the bouncer to the women.
"S'okay," answered Donna. "So what's the cover," she asked.
"No cover," he replied.
"Really?" asked Donna. "That's strange! Great! But strange!"
"Some of the services downstairs are," he paused and grinned, "personal." Getting serious again, he continued, "It'd be like we were charging for prostitution if we charged a cover. If it's free to get in, it's perfectly legal. They make up for it with the price of drinks anyway. Now, let me see you're ID if you want to go down."
They showed the bouncer their ID, then they took the other elevator down one level. A short hallway led into the club. According to the sign by the main doors, the club had only been opened for about an hour, but it was relatively crowded. As they walked through the short corridor to the main room, they passed a political poster that said:
Defend our lifestyle against the Puritans, moralists,
censors, and control freaks -- vote Libertarian!
Julie remarked, "Aren't they some kind of Communists?"
Donna answered, "Nah, I think they're Fascists?"
An adjacent poster said:
Legalize ALL voluntary activities between
consenting adults -- vote Libertarian!
Cindy then said, "I think you're both wrong. They must be Nazis!"
They took a couple more steps. Next to the political posters was a display case listing scheduled events.
Cass Carnaby Five live tonight
Big Boob Parade in Blue Dungeon at 8:00
Hot Male Revue in Red Dungeon at 8:00
Master of Illusion in Green Dungeon at 10:00
Comedy King in Blue Dungeon at 12:00
"Male revue! Whoo-eee!" Donna shouted. "Let's go girls!"
"I'm with you Donna!" answered Julie.
"Let's go!" added Cindy.
They exited the corridor into the main floor. The main floor was a large room with a high ceiling. A balcony ran all the way around the room. Several spiral staircases led from the floor to the balcony. The walls on both levels were lined with booths. One side of the room had a number of tables and chairs. The bar lined one wall under the balcony. Archways along the other wall led into other rooms. At the other end of the room was a band warming up. Five guys in sky-blue leisure suits. They were warming up with some kind of Bossa Nova tune.
Colored stripes on the floor led the way to the different venues within the club. They followed the red stripe through one of the arches into a smaller room with tables and booths. They followed the red stripe through the maze of rooms and corridors.
They entered the Red Dungeon just as the show was starting. The waiter, a gorgeous dark skinned Brazilian hunk, wearing only a G-string showed them to a table and took their order for drinks. Oh man, he had such piercing black eyes that could make you just melt -- and not an ounce of fat on that gorgeous body!
.... There is more of this story ...