Written in collaboration with Snuffher

Sue grew up in a strict Catholic family. Although corporal punishment was politically incorrect by the time she reached high school, the nuns could still resort to pretty horrific discipline when necessary. Of course, her mother was under no such restrictions, and could teach the famed nuns of old some lessons in child discipline.

Immediately after graduating, Sue married a prim and proper young man: a 4th Degree Knight of Columbus who often served communion to the parishioners.

But Sue wasn't satisfied. Ever since puberty, she had always known deep inside, that she was a physical person with a strong libido. Her husband, as good as he was to her, would never eat "down there." He would never so much as even touch her "down there." When they made love, which was precisely at 11:00 PM when they went to bed on Thursday night (Thursday being the least holy day of the week in his opinion), he would lay upon her in the "missionary position" then roll off and fall asleep immediately afterward.

It took Sue four boring years to realize the mistake that she made.

On a hot August night while her husband was giving a sermon while the Priest was away on church business, all she left was a note. She watched the Raleigh station slowly roll away from the window. The train sped through the night, making a few brief stops here and there. It held over in Washington DC for a while before taking off again for New York City.

She stepped out onto 34th street and walked away from Penn Station. But she was no innocent lost girl with nowhere to go; her destination was on a slip of paper that she pulled from her purse and looked over once again; not that she needed to, for the address was committed to her memory.

A few blocks south brought her to 20th street and 8th avenue. An alley between two shops led back and around a corner to a set of plain steel double doors, one of which was open. A sign above the entrance read, "The Death Dealer Club." The name of the club gave her the creeps, but, after all, it's just a name. Being late morning, the club wasn't open. The club was deserted except for a few men in suits poring over record books at one of the tables.

"Ahem!" Sue announced herself.

They all looked up at her.

"I called a few days ago. About the job."

"Yeah, right," one of them said and came toward Sue. "Cute outfit!" he said when he stopped in front of her.

Sue didn't have any sexy clothes. Her plaid skirt, white socks, and loose pink blouse clashed with everything about the place.

"Er, thanks," Sue stammered.

"Ever sold yourself before?" he asked in a thick Brooklyn accent.

"No," she whispered.

"Well, okay then. That's probably for the best, because our club is a little different from the rest. Come with me."

The man, who still hadn't told Sue his name, led her through a rear door, down a hallway into a small windowless room. Looking at her, he said, "You understand we're not just a sleazy strip joint or hook shop, don't you?"

"Yeah," said Sue.

"We cater to a unique customer who wants more than just to pay for a fuck..."

Sue interrupted. "That's what drew me to a job with your club."

"Our customers want to make a game out of it..."

"What sort of game?" Sue interrupted again.

"You'll see," he said with a chuckle. "Now, make yourself comfortable. Your shift starts at 8:00 tonight. Someone will come get you. Be wearing just a robe."

He left Sue alone in the small room. She looked around. It was neat and clean, but stark and dreary. The walls were concrete blocks painted yellow, and there were no windows. The only other door led into a tiny bathroom, with a shower stall, sink, and toilet.

The room contained a single bed, a counter with a small refrigerator and a microwave oven, and a TV on a stand. Sue hadn't eaten since she bought a midnight snack on the train, so she rooted around. There were some Cola, milk, and butter in the fridge. The cabinet held some bread, and a few microwave dinners, sugar, and a jar of instant coffee.

Sue nuked one of the dinners and then watched some TV. As 8:00 drew near, she took a shower. She wanted to be fresh and clean for her first customer. As the warm water sprayed on her body, she reached "down there" and felt herself wet already, and not from the shower water. The thought that she'd be having sex with a man in a few hours whom she hadn't even met yet wouldn't leave her mind.

As instructed, she was wearing a pink terry bathrobe that she found hanging in the bathroom. A few minutes after 8, someone knocked on the door and walked in before she could even say, "Who's there?"

It was one of the other men in suits that she recognized. "Follow me," he said.

He led her through the back hallways of the club. She could hear music and the din of voices echoing through the walls. The club was in full swing then. A gray steel door opened into a plush velvety room with thick carpeting and recessed mood lights. An overstuffed sofa was at one end of the room, and throw pillows were scattered about everywhere. A second door faced them from the opposite wall from where they entered.

Then Sue noticed the giant dartboard mounted on one wall.

"Come on!" he urged her. "Over here!"

Sue walked up to the dartboard and stepped up on a wooden step stool. Gasping in terror, she let him shackle her spread-eagle to the board.

"Are they really going to throw darts at me?" she gasped.

"Nah," he laughed. "The johns get three shots with a laser gun. An infrared camera," he pointed to a small black hemisphere mounted in the ceiling in the middle of the room, "hooked up to a computer senses where he hits you. But you won't feel nothing. Each part of your body is worth different points. Like your nipples are 100 points each, and your breasts are 50 points."

"Okay..." Sue stammered, but the man continued, "His score shows up on that display," he pointed to a small LCD TV monitor on the wall next to her, "If he gets enough points, the shackles automatically release you and he gets to have sex with you."

"Uhm," Sue started to speak, but he left through the other door.

Some time passed, but Sue didn't have a clue how long, when the dartboard started spinning like a theme park ride. A moment later, a man in jeans and a leather jacket came in, but it was hard to make out what he really looked like because she was spinning on the dart board and the room was like it was spinning around her.

Sue was getting crazy dizzy. The man standing in the room was a spinning blur. She could sort of make out him holding up the laser gun before he muttered "Shit!"

He muttered, "Yeah!" then "Shit!" again, then he left the room. The dartboard stopped spinning and then slowly righted her again.

Even though the dartboard had stopped spinning, Sue's head felt like it was spinning like mad and she was feeling nauseous.

About an hour passed as Sue hung dizzy on the stationary dartboard. An old bald man, about twice Sue's age, came in. Sue shuddered when she noticed how gray and wrinkled his skin was. Oh, gross! She took in a breath and figured he doesn't have a chance to win her.

Then she started spinning again. The man, like the last, was a spinning blur. She saw him hold up the laser gun and just hold it still for the longest time.