Octagon; Strip And Screw
Chapter 1

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa,

Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Robyn, the real estate executive in Golf, A Skins Game, has come upon hard financial times. This is the story about her experience in the adult entertainment industry.


It was hard to believe four and a half years had passed. It felt like ten. A lot of water had gone under the bridge. My life's path had taken an unexpected detour. I hadn't found my way back to the original freeway. I poured myself another drink. I think it was only the third so far today. I put in the DVD. That went almost back to the beginning of my detour.

It came up to speed. I watched the opening, mesmerized, even though I knew it by heart, as I knew every second of the next three hours. I watched the opening visual, the mountains, the moving image, coming in over Reno, the shot getting tighter, closing in on the new hotel, dissolving into a shot of the auditorium, closing in until the octagon filled the big screen. The arena and the octagon were empty, except for the king sized bed. Six feet by seven feet -- they call that a California King -- with a light blue pillow top mattress. The title superimposed on the screen, as the excited voice of a play by play style sportscaster read the title, drawing out the words until they took nearly twenty seconds to say:




The title dissolved, and the credits scrolled up the screen. The producer, the director, a few other names, followed by the stars.




I'd been using Gloria Irene almost exclusively, ever since I began my detour through the seamy side of life. The voice over continued,


With video of Roy walking down the aisle and into the Octagon,



As video of me walking down the opposite aisle and into the octagon played,



As the shot cut to the big blue bed,


As the camera pulled away from the bed, panned over the auditorium, now filled with cheering spectators, up the wall, across the ceiling, and closed in on big red numerals over the bed reading 16:00.


My name is Robyn. I'm a single gal. I'm single, never been married, with no children. I've had several relationships from a few weeks to almost six months, but I'm not quite ready to settle down to just one man yet. Any man who'd want me now is probably the wrong man.

Seven years ago, I became the youngest vice president of the largest land developer in the west. I'd done good work, and made the company a lot of money. I spent three years developing a classic property for my company. It had two new championship caliber golf courses and a little executive nine, with a world renown touring pro as the name behind the course. A high-end time-share resort complex surrounded the courses. It also had tennis, skeet, archery, and three lakes, fishing, boating, swimming, hiking, a gym and health spa. It was definitely upscale. It was 45 minutes away from great skiing, but the immediate area almost never got any snow. It seldom even got really cold there. A major national resort hotel contracted to rent the unsold units, and the sold units if the owners weren't using them. We expected some people to buy several units, and let the hotel rent them out. The big money we were anxious to see was from the sales of units, followed by the steady cash flow from management fees and services provided.

The publicity and promotion garnered a lot of attention in the trade press, the business press, the convention and vacation magazines, the newspaper travel and business sections, and even the sports sections. It was amazing. Most of that was my doing.

I orchestrated everything, from planning and zoning, through the bidding, permits and construction, the publicity and into the beginning of the sales phase. Some people in the office thought it was a bit too much, when I put myself into the publicity in a major way. There were more photos of me in the promotional material than everyone else combined. It didn't hurt that I was in spectacular shape, not so much from hard exercise as from good genes, a careful diet, a little running and light weights; and a lot of golf.

There were photos of me in the office, and walking the grounds in business attire. There were photos of me in slinky eveningwear, in the restaurant, at the bar, and dancing in the nightclub. There were photos of me on the golf course, including one pretty risqué one of me following through after a shot, with obvious nipples at high beam. There were photos of me in the newest skimpy tennis dress with spaghetti straps and nipples. There were photos of me by the pool in a tiny bikini, and tanning my back, with my bikini top straps untied, and several views of the sides of my breasts. I was shown in the gym, in skin tight lycra and spandex. I was shown on a massage table, and in the sauna, obviously naked under a towel, and in a hot tub, with the top of my breasts poking out of the water, with no obvious bikini top. I was featured in a video we showed on late night cable; it was somewhat sexier than in the print ads.

I'd been with the company for three years, when the executive vice president dropped dead. I expected a promotion up to his position. I began to worry when it remained vacant for a few months.

The timing couldn't have been worse. Just as we began to sell units, the economy went into the Dumpster, and interest rates spiked upwards. Not only was nothing selling, but the company couldn't get financing for the next projects in the pipeline. They had to cut back. I was one of the casualties.

My boss liked me, just not enough to keep me on the payroll with diminished cash flow. What he did was find a spot for me running the resort I'd developed, working for the single purpose entity formed to sell the units and manage the property. It didn't pay what I'd been making, but jobs were suddenly scarce. I took the job, rented my condo out, and moved up in the foothills. My six-figure salary was cut by more than half. At first, I assumed the reduction in my income was only temporary, and I didn't cut back much on lifestyle expenses. When I decided I had to, I found it was an incredibly difficult thing to do.

My deal allowed me to sell units too. I got a commission on my personal sales, an override on sales by my staff, and I got a bonus when 35% of the available units sold. There were other bonuses at later points. My commissions and overrides got deferred until bonus time, when I'd get both checks. It was a long struggle, but the first bonus point was approaching, probably in about sixty days. My bonus was going to be over fifty thousand dollars. My deferred commissions were over forty thousand dollars. When I got those checks, my total income since coming over to the resort would still be far less than I was earning before. The money was already spent.

I had burned through all my savings. My credit cards were maxed out. I had almost no food in the apartment. Most of my breakfasts and dinners, were macaroni or tortillas with cheap cheese and beans, unless the supermarket thirty miles away had something on special. Breakfast cereal was an occasional treat. Lunch was often donuts from the sales office. They had apples at the hotel registration desk. I had one each morning when I came in, another in mid afternoon, and I always took one home with me.

Hardly a day went by that I didn't get multiple phone calls from bill collectors. Some of my creditors were sending me two threatening letters a week. The last three months, I'd taken cash to the finance company the day before they told me they were coming to repossess my car. The only reason I wasn't bouncing checks was that I had overdraft protection on my checking account, but that was pushing the limit. I had changed my withholding to maximize my take home pay, and was going to owe IRS big bucks next April 15.

One morning, I received E-mail from my boss. His development company had borrowed almost all the cash from the company I worked for. I wasn't going to get my bonus and deferred commissions on schedule. I'd get it paid eventually, equally, over twenty-four months, starting "in a few months." They'd pay me interest on the money at the end.

I was angry. Even more than angry, I was fast approaching desperate. I was counting on that money to get out of the hole I was in. It would do that, and provide a cushion of a few months, if I was careful. I'd been trying to be careful for months now. I'd also been looking for jobs, and there weren't any worth more than mine, even without the bonus and commissions. To the extent that I could do it, I was even running personal expenses through the company, for items that should have been paid by me personally. Not very many -- and they weren't blatant expenses -- but in my heart, I knew they were questionable.

I was eleven days from payday. I was desperate for some cash. There was a man I'd met a couple of months ago, who was generous. Not big money, but he was good for a few hundred bucks after a mid week date. He had invited me for a weekend, with the promise of some money, but I had to spend the weekends in the sales office. He told me he had a friend I might like. I was seriously considering calling his friend.

Last week, I'd gone down to Shadypine, a town just off the Interstate, and won the amateur night contest. It was only two hundred bucks, but I needed it. The manager offered me a job dancing three nights a week. He said I could make big tips. I was so desperate I was considering it.

I saw the ad in an underground paper, which had been left in the lobby a few weeks before. "Wanted, attractive women in good condition, for experimental adult entertainment project, winner can earn over $10,000."

Adult entertainment sounded like porno, or hooking, but I was confused at the use of the word 'winner.' The company paid for my cell phone, and long distance was free. I was almost broke, so I made the call. They asked a lot of questions, but wouldn't tell me about the job over the phone. They said they'd call me back, if I qualified.

I didn't hear from them, and I'd forgotten about it when they called back. It was a one-week project, if I got it. They would pay for room and board for those selected. I had to go see them on Sunday afternoon. I'd be finished the following Sunday morning. It was less than two hours away, by car. I still had the two hundred bucks I won from dancing, and another hundred I had to get me through the week, so I took the chance, and left at 2:30 Sunday afternoon. Sunday morning saw no traffic through the sales office, so I didn't feel bad about leaving early. I took a small suitcase with me, just underwear and two changes of clothing. I had plenty of vacation and personal time off coming. I'd planned on not taking the vacation, and getting paid for it, but earning at least ten thousand dollars for a week was better than I was getting now, and I'd get my regular base pay on top of that. If I got the job, I'd phone and tell them I'd be off for a week. If I didn't get the job, I'd be back at work on Monday, and only poorer by a tank of gas.

I made good time, and pulled into the parking garage at the new hotel in Reno at 4:15. I had an hour and a quarter before my interview.


Ten minutes of video had played on the DVD. I saw the surveillance camera video of me driving into the garage, and walking to the elevator. The image of me in the elevator, checking my makeup in the mirrored walls always startled me. The surveillance video of me was better when I came out of the elevator. It showed me walking through the casino, sitting in the keno lounge without betting, then walking to the elevator, and following the directions to my interview. Brief pieces of similar events played before, of both men and women.

The video of my interview was studio quality. It only lasted five minutes on video. Shorter pieces of video of other people played before mine. I didn't know I was being filmed at the time. The woman on the video told me they had already selected six men, and five women. My interview was to be the last. If I was more interesting to them then the last woman on the bubble, I'd make it into the final six, otherwise she would. She asked a few questions about my health, physical activities, and sexual history. She seemed to like my answers. She told me one of the six men and one of the six women would participate in a contest before an audience, and for pay per view TV. She asked me to strip naked, so she could make sure I looked as good that way as I did dressed. I complied, and that was on the video too. The woman's goal was to keep away from the man for sixteen minutes. The man's goal was to strip the woman naked and screw her in sixteen minutes. The winner got fifteen thousand dollars. The loser got nothing.

I was fairly animated and active during the questioning, even during the questions about my sexual activities, but the look on my face was one of terror when she told me about getting stripped and screwed.

She asked me if I'd be interested. I said not if I didn't get anything if I lost. She said I'd get something.


I sat in the keno lounge when I got inside the casino. I didn't have the money to waste gambling, and was so nervous I knew I couldn't concentrate on the keno numbers. Instead I obsessed on the state of my finances. I thought I might stand around the craps table later tonight, and see if a high roller wanted to adopt me as a good luck charm. I'd never actually had sex for money -- a straight commercial transaction -- before, but having dates with my generous friend came pretty close. It was a step I didn't want to take, but desperate situations can lead to desperate actions.

I got to the interview ten minutes early, and was immediately ushered in. It was a nice office; brightly lit, with big mirrors on two sides of the room. My interviewer's name was Barb. She was about my age, and spoke with a slight midwestern drawl. She was about 5-2, and slender, with a nice body. She was very friendly. She had me fill out a simplified employment application. Name, address, was I over 21, and a consent form for me to take a pre-employment physical.

When I gave her my application, I asked, "What can you tell me about this job?"

"Please just answer my questions for the next twenty or twenty-five minutes. Then I'll try to answer as many of your questions as I can."

Barb began by asking a few questions about my health, my job, and my hobbies. They were innocuous questions, and I answered them honestly. She was an easy woman to talk to.

The next set of questions was more sexual in nature. They were the kind of questions that are illegal to ask in a pre-employment context. However, the ad I was answering was for a job in an adult entertainment project. Before she was finished asking questions, she knew I was almost 29 years old, had lost my virginity at 15, and had about 25 sexual partners, not counting an unknown number of one night stands with men and women I'd never met before. She knew I considered myself straight, with some bi-curiosity, and aside from the one nighters, I'd experimented with six females, three of them alone, and three of them in FMF or larger groups. I told her I'd never had any STDs, was last tested about four months ago, I liked sex, with the right person, and that I was on depo for birth control. I wasn't particularly upset at answering her sexual questions.

"I'm sure you've guessed by now, this job is sexual in nature," Barb said. "Are you OK with that?"

"I need to know more, but I could be."

"Before we go on, I need you to strip, so I can make sure you don't have any unsightly scars or misshapen body parts."

I hesitated just a second or two. "Naked?"

Barb shook her head up and down, as if she'd gotten that question before, and said, "There is a second reason I'm asking that of you now. More than half of the women we interviewed never got to this point, because we knew they couldn't cut it. You can cut it, but I need to know if you are sufficiently photogenic, and if you are comfortable talking while naked."

"Any particular order you want me to undress?"

"No. You don't even need to try to do it artistically. Just take 'em all off."

So I kicked off my shoes, pulled my tank top over my head, stood to remove my slacks, unhooked my bra and pulled down my panties, all in about twenty seconds.

"Stand over there," she said, pointing to a spot near the corner of her desk. "Now turn a quarter turn to your left." Every few seconds, she had me make another quarter turn, until I'd made two complete circles. "Now stand there, while I ask the rest of my questions. Have you ever done anything in the adult entertainment area?"

"I've just begun to date a man who is financially generous at the end of the evening. Last week I entered an amateur night contest, and won $200. That was the first time I'd ever done anything remotely like either activity."

"Did you dance topless or naked?"


"That sudden start sounds like financial problems to me."

"You're right, Barb. Things are suddenly pretty tight. I've got some big bonuses and deferred commissions, which I was supposed to get next month. They have been postponed. That is why I answered the ad. I really need this job."

When I said I really needed the job, I put special emphasis on 'really.' I was looking Barb right in the eyes, and she was looking right back in mine. She showed no reaction to my implied offer.

"Pretty soon, I'll be telling you about the job. Then you might not want it so much. Are you into exhibitionism, or having sex in public?"

"Yes, I've vacationed in clothing optional places, and I've had sex there. I've played strip games at parties, and have had sex at parties. A few months ago, I played strip golf on a golf course, which was a week away from opening, with another woman and two men. I walked off the course naked, had sex in the same room with the other three people, rode home naked, and one of the men stayed with me for a week.

"It sounds like you might be able to handle this job. Let me tell you about it. This hotel has an arena in it. It has a big octagon shaped space that is used for no rules fighting, where stupid men try to maim each other until the loser can't defend himself. They enclose the space with a chain link fence for those events. We aren't going to do anything like that, but we will surround the space with three strands of boxing ring style ropes."

"Within those ropes, all the woman has to do is evade the man for sixteen minutes, while he tries to strip her naked and screw her. Our ad said the winner gets ten thousand dollars. We've decided to increase the winner's share to fifteen thousand. Do you think you might be interested."

"I could be interested. I'm in pretty good shape, I'm not slow, and I've had some martial arts training. I am not interested if the loser gets nothing, however. It also depends on what kind of athletes the men are."

"OK," Barb said, "Lets take up your questions, one at a time, starting with the second. The men's interview was different than the women's. The men didn't know anything about the contest until after they'd had a physical. Their physical included strength, agility, speed and endurance. They assumed they had to score well on those skills. The reverse is true. They have to be in the bottom half of at least three of those categories, and if they are over six feet tall, they have to be in the bottom half of all of them, because of their long arms. We want the women to have a chance. Of course, we'd like the women naked. It is a pay per view, but if there is no chance for her to win, then we aren't likely to get any women to take the chance, knowing they are going to get screwed for free, and that the guy will win $15,000 for doing it."

"Now," Barb continued, "What's in it for you if you lose? Each person who made it through the interview — men and women -- and passed the physical, will submit a sealed envelope, with a dollar figure in it, for how much money they will charge us to participate. The job would go to the lowest male bidder, and to the lowest female bidder. The contest is next Saturday. All twelve of the finalists are our guests at the hotel tonight, and the four lowest male and four lowest female bidders would be guests for the week. Tonight all twelve of you will get deluxe rooms. You will all get a hundred-dollar gift card, which can only be used for food and drinks, and is not refundable in cash. You will all get a hundred-dollar gift card, which can only be used in hotel shops or the business center, and is not refundable in cash. Finally, you will all get one hundred special one-dollar chips, which cannot be turned in for cash, but you are free to keep whatever you win with those special chips. None of these items have an expiration date, so you are free to take them with you, and use them on a future visit. Those people we ask to stay will get the same thing every night they are here, and we will upgrade everybody to suites tomorrow. When you leave, you'll all get checks for two hundred dollars a night while you are here, including tonight."

"Are you interested in participating?"

I didn't even have to think about it. "Yes, I am." The worst thing I'd get if I made it past tomorrow was a week of living free in a nice hotel, with $1,400 dollars when I left, plus whatever money I got back from one hundred dollars of chips a day, if I didn't gamble the winnings away. And that would be in addition to my vacation pay at work.

"Good. I hoped you would say that. You are accepted, subject to your passing the physical tonight. I need you to sign these forms now. They are various model releases which will allow us to film you, explanations of the gift cards, permission to give you a physical, and things like that."

She handed me a large manila envelope. "Inside this envelope you will find the gift cards and a chip voucher for tonight, your room key, directions on where to meet us tomorrow at 2 P.M., and the contract we will require you to sign tomorrow, during that meeting. Finally, please take this card and go to room 3-144. That is the hotel clinic. They are expecting you. Your physical will take about an hour. After your physical, you are on your own. Enjoy the hotel, the shops, the restaurants and the casino. I suggest you make tonight a late night, and try to sleep in until at least 10 A.M. tomorrow. Do that for as long as you are here. Telephone and Internet in your room are free."

Barb continued, "I didn't give you an opportunity to ask me questions. There will be more information available tomorrow afternoon, and plenty of time for questions."

"They will all keep until tomorrow. Thanks, Barb."

"Then why don't you sign the papers, get dressed, and head for the clinic immediately. We need to get all the lab work back before the meeting tomorrow."

I'd almost forgotten I was bare ass naked. Before I dressed, I signed all the papers and gave them to Barb. I should have read them, but I didn't. I just signed them. I didn't get copies for myself either.

When I was dressed, Barb walked around her desk and opened the door for me. On my way out, she gave me a hug, saying, "I'll be seeing you every day while you are here. If you have any questions at any time, please call the number on the envelope. They can find me 24 hours a day."


The video showed several men and women hugging Barb, and walking out of her office, then it cut to other men and women exiting the elevator, and others walking down the hall to room 3-144. The video included small segments of the physicals of several of us. Several of the men's prostate examinations and the turn your head and cough were captured on the video. Almost all of the women's breast exams and gynecological exams were covered in great detail. I got more time on the video than most of the women, and all of the men.


Room 3-144 looked like a hotel suite from the outside. The sign said 'Clinic, ' but it looked like it was pretty cheaply made. There was a woman in a white dress at a desk when I went in. I handed her the card Barb gave me. She looked at it, then gave me a gown and pointed at the first door to the right. "Take off all of your clothing, including your underwear, shoes and stockings. A nurse will be with you shortly."

I went into the room. There was an X-ray table. It looked to be a portable table, and the camera was on a big-wheeled rig, not mounted from ceiling the way I'd seen them before. There was a rack on the wall for chest and other standing X-rays. There were a couple of chairs, and an examination table, with stirrups. There were three big mirrors on the walls. It didn't look like a permanent clinic should look.

I undressed for the second time today. I put the gown on. It was way too small. There was no way I could tie it in back. It didn't even come all the way down to cover my pubic hair. I took it off, and looked at the label. It was a child's large size. I put it back on.

A few minutes later, Barb walked in. She was wearing a white dress. It was short, above mid-thigh. It has a scoop neck, and her nipples were visible. She was definitely not wearing a bra. Her nametag read 'Barb M, Registered Nurse.' She had a stethoscope hanging around her neck.

"Barb! You are the nurse?"

"Yes. I do several things for the company. I was a RN before I started working for them. I keep my license active, take my continuing education, and work a shift or two most weeks, in an emergency room."

It wasn't until later that I learned how much Barb actually did for the company.

Barb took my temperature and blood pressure, and then very professionally took three vials of blood out of the inside of my left elbow, applied the bandage with cotton ball, and told me to apply pressure for a minute. She applied stickers to the vials, and took them out the front door.

Barb was back in a few moments. She handed me a plastic cup, and told me to go into the bathroom and give her a urine specimen.

A few minutes later, she had me against the wall, and was taking chest X-rays and spinal X-rays. We had some time to chitchat during the standing X-rays. I complained about the gown being so small. Barb suggested I take it off. She said it didn't cover anything important anyway, and she'd seen me naked for the better part of an hour during my interview anyway. She was right, so I took it off.

Next, Barb had me get up on the table, where she got ready to take a whole slew of X-rays. I was on my back. Barb bent down to insert the X-ray plate, and I could see right down the front of her dress.

"I see you're not wearing a bra. You have beautiful breasts."

Her hand went to my left breast. "You have beautiful breasts too." My left breast felt warm, my left nipple went erect, and I was short of breath.

Barb reached up to adjust the camera, and her dress rode up high enough that I could see her shaved pussy. I reached out and stoked it. "And you aren't wearing any panties either, you naughty girl."

Now it was Barb's turn to breathe faster, as my thumb touched her clit. She had one hand on my pubes, the other hand tugging her zipper down, and she shrugged her dress off, leaving her body bare. Suddenly, she was on the table with me, her mouth lapping greedily at my snatch. I returned the favor, with my thumbs sliding around her opening, my index fingers probing her anus. It felt like I was being finger fucked. I began to buck as her finger probed my vagina. It was hard for me to see what I was doing, but I knew where everything was, so as my tongue worked over her slit and clit, I had my finger searching for her G-spot, while my other hand moved in and out her rectum.

I was so busy working on Barb I didn't even feel my own buildup. My orgasm was sudden, and it was intense. It was as big as any I'd ever had with a woman. Barb was shaking like she was coming too, but my orgasm just kept right on going. I know I lost consciousness, because the next think I knew, Barb was turned around and kissing me. I could taste myself on her lips.

"That was very nice."

I replied, "That was my best ever! If they had all been this big, there would have been fewer men in my life. Do you think we can find time to do that again?"

"We might, but we'd better get to your X-rays now. The doctor should be here any minute."

Barb didn't bother to dress. She finished the X-rays, and slid the plates into a metal box. "They'll be read tonight. If necessary, we'll take replacements tomorrow morning."

She listened to my heart and lungs very professionally. As she did that, the doctor came in. He was tall, probably over 6-3, and skinny. His arms were disproportionally long and his hands were big. His nametag read 'Dr. Ray.' He was very young to be a doctor, more or less my age. I guessed he must be just out of medical school.

Dr. Ray gave her a kiss, I'm sure tasting me on her lips. "Barb, where is your name tag?"

She pointed to her dress, on the floor near the X-ray table.

The doctor didn't appear surprised that I was naked, and he didn't offer me a gown. Barb stayed in the room, and he didn't comment on her nakedness either.

He asked me questions and made check marks on the paper from which he read. There were a couple of follow-up questions I expected him to ask, but he just went on down his list. Then he did the breast exam. It didn't quite follow the protocol I was used to, it was almost amateurish, but it was also almost erotic. I decided that was probably because I'd recently had sex with Barb, and she was standing naked in my field of view. The doctor palpated my stomach and intestines; again, it didn't quite feel like any previous physical.

I scooted down the table, Barb adjusted the stirrups, and I put my heels in them. She came to stand beside me. The doctor looked and probed. Gynecological exams are never erotic, but this one felt different. The doctor had a very light touch; I didn't even feel the speculum. The doctor was standing there between my legs, when Barb asked me a question. I don't even remember the question, but I looked at her to reply and I felt something unexpected. It took me a few moments to figure out that the doctor had inserted his penis into my vagina, and was slowly pumping in and out. Barb nodded her head yes, and held one finger over her mouth, in the signal to be quiet. I was still aroused from Barb, and the doctor was good at what he was doing. It turned out to be a quick fuck. I didn't have an orgasm, but he surely did. Barb licked him clean.

"Lets all have a shower," said Barb, as she took my hand and we went through another of the doors in the room. We were in a big bathroom, with a walk in shower and two showerheads. When the doctor followed us in, he was naked. The shower took longer than usual, as each of us thoroughly washed the other two.

As we were getting dressed, it looked like Barb was trying to catch the doctor's eye. He seemed to be looking everywhere except at Barb. Finally, she coughed. He looked up at her. "Would you ladies to me the honor of joining me for dinner? They have a new steak house in the hotel, which just opened this week. It'll be my treat."

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Fa/Fa /