Club Velvet 4
Copyright© 2026 by Kynlas_DK
Chapter 14
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 14 - Frank Devon, his pack, his club and the people who come to his club for connection and entertainment, this is their story and this is book 4 of the series. I would suggest starting at book 1 to understand the background and the world this club resides in.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft mt/Fa Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Science Fiction Incest Brother Sister BDSM DomSub Light Bond Polygamy/Polyamory
The next morning, Ezra and Sofia followed the same routine—light breakfast, then back to their hotel room to polish their reports before sending them to their father for review.
Frank read them carefully, impressed by the level of detail they included. He felt a surge of pride—not just because they had visited the clubs, but because they had gone all the way, fully immersing themselves in the experience, including being intimate with the dancers and pleasure consultants. He had anticipated this might happen and was proud they had chosen to step outside their familiar circles—away from family or school friends—and embrace the unknown.
After reading, Frank sent personal messages to Dana and Terry, letting them know his interns needed to meet with them at Juniper Biscuit Co. to discuss their findings. He assured both managers they were doing an excellent job, but said the interns had some notes and feedback to review in person. He purposely left out the kids’ last names, simply saying Ezra and Sofia would be meeting them.
The message felt a bit cloak-and-dagger, and Frank didn’t love that—but it was necessary. This was their moment to shine, and he intended to give them every opportunity to do so.
When Ezra and Sofia left the hotel and headed to the brunch spot, they dressed professionally for the occasion. Ezra wore dress slacks with a button-up shirt and tie, while Sofia opted for a sleeveless dress that hugged her curves tastefully—professional, polished, and confident.
Dana and Terry arrived just moments before them and greeted one another warmly. Working in the same city, they had met many times before and shared a friendly rapport. They were already seated at a table when Ezra and Sofia walked in.
The waitress had brought water to the table earlier and returned with two more glasses when she learned two additional guests were expected.
“Good morning, Dana and Terry,” Ezra said with a polite smile, stepping up to the table. “I’m Ezra Devon, and this is my sister, Sofia Devon.”
Both managers were momentarily stunned as recognition set in. They stood quickly to shake hands.
“Wait ... didn’t we meet two nights ago?” Terry asked, shaking hands with them both.
Dana tilted her head. “Yeah, I saw you two just last night!”
Ezra nodded. “That’s right. We’ve visited both of your clubs and enjoyed ourselves completely. Our father, Frank Devon, asked us to evaluate each location and report back to him. We’ve each prepared a write-up for you.”
Sofia reached into her purse and handed them two folders. Dana and Terry opened them and began reading.
Terry read aloud, “Classy and seductive with a strong emotional undercurrent. The dancers are magnetic, the energy is smooth and confident. Feels like a high-end destination for emotional and physical connection.” He paused, blinking. That wasn’t how he’d ever thought to describe the place. He closed the folder and looked at them again—processing.
Dana’s eyes scanned her own report. “Lively, youthful, and down-to-earth. It’s got spark and spirit, with a hint of mischief. A perfect mix of neighborhood bar meets playful fantasy.” She looked up, incredulous. “Well, yeah, we’ve got a lot of young dancers trying it out ... but really?”
Sofia smiled. “Really. The vibe at both clubs is noticeably different, but each is outstanding in its own way. You should both be proud.”
That brought smiles to Dana and Terry’s faces just as the waitress returned to take their orders. They relaxed into conversation—talking about the club scenes, their standout staff, and, inevitably, who had made the strongest impressions during Ezra and Sofia’s visits.
“Well,” Terry said with a smirk, “someone’s getting a gold star on his chart when I get back.”
Dana nodded. “Robert deserves it. He handled things perfectly.”
After brunch, Ezra and Sofia returned to the hotel, changed into travel clothes, and checked out. They were halfway to their Jeep when their phones buzzed with a call from their father.
“Hold on, you two,” Frank said. “There are still two more clubs that need reports. Don’t head home just yet.”
“Daaad!” Sofia groaned.
“Seriously?” Ezra asked, stunned.
Frank’s tone sharpened slightly—more CEO than father now. “Yes, seriously. I hired you both to evaluate all the clubs. East St. Louis is just a few hours away. Go there next. Spend a couple of days, then head to New York as planned. This is what I’m paying you for. I expect you to follow through. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, Dad.”
They hung up and started the engine.
As they drove, signs along the highway began popping up—neon billboards promising lounges, triple-X theaters, and clubs boasting “the best entertainment in Missouri.” Most were in the middle of nowhere.
One enormous sign loomed ahead: “The Best Club in Missouri—Exit Now!”
Sofia raised an eyebrow. “Really? Let’s see what makes them so special.”
She veered off the exit, curious. Both siblings doubted the bold claim—but needed to see it with their own eyes, if only to confirm that nothing beat Club Velvet.
The building was a square steel box on an outer road off the highway. Once painted white, it now bore more rust than paint. The parking lot was gravel, the overhead lights dark, and nothing about it screamed best in Missouri. If anything, it whispered of better days long past.
As they opened the front door, the stench hit them immediately—stale cigarette smoke and flat beer, a gag-worthy combo neither of them was used to.
The man at the door barely looked up from his newspaper. He didn’t speak, didn’t ask for a cover charge, just sat there, disinterested in the young couple walking past him.
Inside, the lights were turned down low—so low they couldn’t see to the far side of the room. What they could see wasn’t much to brag about. A few waitresses leaned against the bar, wearing bras and shorts that might have once been sexy, but now just looked tired.
On stage, one dancer was present, shifting her weight lazily back and forth, barely interacting with the pole. She glanced down at Ezra and Sofia with visible disdain and didn’t bother changing her routine. She was nude and clearly not happy about being there.
They picked a table near the center of the mostly empty club. The chairs were padded vinyl and metal, sticky to the touch and worn with age. The table was a wobbly round one supported by a single post and four-legged base—like something salvaged from a failed diner.
A waitress approached, her WE bubble identifying her as Angie Johnson, 55 years old. She held a tray in front of her and offered a tired smile.
“What can I get you two?”
Ezra and Sofia exchanged a quick glance. Ezra ordered his usual Coke. Sofia asked for a Dr. Pepper. Angie nodded and shuffled off.
Not the best club in Missouri, Sofia sent silently.
I agree. No energy. Everyone looks sad to be here, Ezra replied.
Their drinks arrived in tall, red plastic cups. At least they were cold, fizzy, and well-mixed—probably the best thing the club had going. Everything else was the polar opposite of Club Velvet.
They sipped quietly and watched the lone dancer finish her non-routine. The music played on as she stepped offstage, with no money to collect. Moments later, she returned in a short satin robe and walked straight toward them.
“Hi. Either of you need a fuck?”
“Um, not really,” Ezra replied, keeping his voice polite. “We were just passing through. Needed a break.”
She shrugged. “Your loss. I’ll be around if you change your mind.”
The music kept going, but the stage remained empty. Sofia and Ezra exchanged another look, the discomfort between them undeniable.
Do you want to go? Sofia asked, sending him her rising unease.
Ezra didn’t answer. He stood and walked to the bar, pulled a twenty from his pocket, and handed it to the waitress. She made the change, but he waved it off.
“Thanks for the drinks.”
He returned to Sofia and they walked out without looking back.
The moment the Jeep doors shut, they both burst out laughing. Best in Missouri—what a joke. Ezra pulled onto the highway again, heading east toward St. Louis ... and eventually East St. Louis.
They checked into a well-kept hotel near the arch. A valet unloaded their bags and welcomed them with a smile.
Inside their king bedroom, they finally relaxed.
“What time does the club close—or get busy?” Ezra asked, pulling Sofia in for a hug.
The club is busy early in the morning and late in the afternoon. The WE said to them.
Why those hours? I’ve never seen a club busy during those hours. Sofia said.
The reason is that their customers come to the club in the morning before they load up their trucks for work. Then in the later afternoon, they come to the club after they are loaded and before they leave to do their deliveries or their long drives. At least this is the pattern that has emerged since the club was reopened by your father.
What about at night? Don’t people come to the club in the evening? Ezra asked, thinking of the way their other clubs work.
Yes, but mostly on the weekends, Friday and Saturday nights. It only being Wednesday, you may find the club slower than what happens on the weekend. The WE responded, even going to display them a graph of occupancy over the course of a week.
Both of them smiled at the knowledge and the graph the WE had shown them.
They decided that they would go to the club in the afternoon. In the meantime, they relaxed in their room for a while.
Ezra and Sofia showered then put on comfy shorts and t-shirts for their trip across the river to the East St Louis club. It was about 5pm and the traffic slowed them down some, but they were used to it from growing up in Chicago.
While they sat in traffic, waiting along with everyone else, Ezra’s hand ended up on his sister’s leg as a sign of affection. He wasn’t trying to start anything, didn’t want to get her turned on or anything, he just wanted to touch her.
Sofia put her hand on his, squeezed it, then shifted around a little in her seat. She pulled her shorts down and away from her body just a little, making room in her shorts since they had been pulled tight against her body. She then took his hand and slid it up her leg toward the junction of her legs and made sure that his fingers found her pussy.
Ezra glanced over to her, his eyebrows raised and he asking through their WE What do you want me to do?
Just touch me, stroke me while we sit here. I’m passing this to Isabella so that she can enjoy it as well.
Ezra let his fingers stroke her lips, letting the tangle of her hair pass his fingers as he casually moved his fingers along her slit. Not doing anything more than just touching her.
Isabella at home was lying on their bed, her legs wide open, feeling Ezra’s hand moving along her sister’s slit and along her own as if he was there with her. His touch was just what she needed, her orgasm flowed through her body, through their link back to Ezra and Sofia who were doing nothing but sitting in traffic.
Both had to take a deep breath from the shared orgasm. Sofia pulled his hand out of her shorts, licked his fingers clean, then adjusted herself so that she didn’t look too bad.
At the club, the security cameras were still operational—though no one was actively watching them. The WE served as the perfect security system. With their constant presence, theft was unheard of, and tampering with another person’s belongings was strongly discouraged. So when the Jeep pulled into the parking lot and a young couple stepped out, no one gave it much thought. The cameras captured them meeting behind the vehicle, sharing a long, intimate embrace and a deep kiss. Moments later, still holding hands, they walked toward the club’s back entrance—unseen, but not unnoticed.
Ezra and Sofia were greeted by a woman standing behind a counter, a large pile of freshly folded towels stacked neatly behind her. The air was thick with the scent of evaporating water, crisp fabric softener, and the sharp tang of cleaning supplies. It was the kind of clean you could smell—moist, sterile, and oddly comforting.
They both paused just inside the door, taking a breath and letting their senses adjust to the unexpected blend of aromas.
The woman looked up, still folding towels, and gave them a genuine smile—one that reached her eyes and made them feel welcome.
“Good evening. Welcome to Club Velvet. How can I help you?” the woman said warmly, folding a towel with practiced ease.
Ezra looked around, still holding Sofia’s hand as they stepped to the counter. “Um ... we thought this was a club, but it kind of smells like a Turkish bathhouse.”
She laughed, the sound genuine. “You’re not wrong—this part of the building is dedicated to showers. A lot of our customers are truck drivers who don’t get regular access to clean facilities, so we offer showers as a courtesy. This is just the entrance area, though. The club itself is just down the hall. Do you need a shower?”
“No, nothing like that,” Sofia said with a chuckle. “Though if we did, this seems like the right place to get one.”
“We’re here for a night out,” Ezra added, taking over. “Some entertainment, some relaxation ... and maybe to see if someone catches our eye.”
The woman nodded with a smile and moved to the register. “Entrance fee is ten dollars each. So twenty will cover the both of you.”
As Sofia pulled out her wallet, Ezra asked, “How much are the showers?”
“Just five dollars. That includes a clean towel. Most people bring their own soap, but we also sell a little kit for a dollar—it comes with soap, shampoo, conditioner, a toothbrush and toothpaste.” She pulled one out from under the counter and held it up, a simple zippered pouch.
Sofia and Ezra exchanged an impressed glance. Their dad had thought of everything.
“Thanks. Maybe we’ll grab one before we leave,” Ezra said, and they moved past the showers toward the main club entrance.
The hallway opened into a softly lit lounge. The lighting was low and inviting, and classic rock played through hidden speakers. Two dancers moved gracefully on stage, while a few patrons watched from comfortable chairs, dollar bills ready in hand.
“Good evening. May I show you to a table?” a man asked with a confident smile. His posture, polished look, and calm presence suggested he was in charge. Broad shoulders, tailored clothes—he looked like he belonged here, like he was the club.
As he greeted them, the WE activated for him.
This is Sofia Devon and Ezra Devon. Brother and sister. From Chicago.
Devon—as in Frank Devon’s kids?
Correct. They’re undercover, evaluating all locations as interns for Velvet Entertainment—and their father.
The conversation took only an instant. The man’s smile deepened, welcoming and just a little sharper.
“Yes, please. We’ve heard there’s something special about this club, and we wanted to check it out before heading home,” Sofia said, while Ezra’s attention wandered—he’d just locked eyes with a young waitress carrying a tray of drinks and food.
“Excellent. Right this way,” the man said, leading them through a few tables before stopping at one positioned right in the middle of the club. He pulled out a chair for Sofia, who smiled appreciatively as she slid into it. Ezra took the seat across from her and nodded his thanks.
“I didn’t catch your name, sir.”
“I’m Wes, the manager here,” the man replied, extending his hand.
“Good to meet you, Wes. Thanks for showing us in.”
“Enjoy your visit. If you need anything at all, just let me know.”
Wes gave them a polite nod and walked away, pausing briefly to speak with a nearby waitress. She glanced toward their table, smiled, and then approached with practiced ease.
“Hi, I’m Stacy. I’ll be your waitress. What can I get started for you?” she said, handing them laminated menu cards printed on thick cardstock.
“Dr. Pepper, please,” Sofia said.
“I’ll try something different,” Ezra added.
“Do you like strawberries?” Stacy asked, her tone bright.
“Oh sure, who doesn’t?”
“Then I know just the thing—our strawberry mint fizz. It’s refreshing and a little unexpected.”
“Perfect. I’ll try that,” Ezra said.
Sofia glanced at him, then at Stacy, mildly regretting her drink order. Still, she didn’t change it. She’d just steal a sip of his first.
Stacy gave a knowing smile and left to fill their drinks, leaving the pair to scan the menu more closely.
While the club didn’t offer a full restaurant menu, it had enough variety to satisfy most cravings—slider sandwiches, finger foods, and even a full-sized burger called the “Fifth Wheel.”
“What are you going to get?” Sofia asked.
Ezra was still studying the menu. His eyes kept drifting back to that giant burger.
“What’s a fifth wheel, anyway?” Sofia asked aloud, her curiosity piqued.
In trucking, a fifth wheel is the heavy-duty hitch that connects the trailer to the truck, her WE replied, instantly sharing the information with both siblings, complete with a mental image of the mechanism.
“Really? Cool,” they said in unison.
“So based on that ... the burger must be huge,” Ezra said, still considering it.
Sofia put her menu down, “Why don’t you get it and we’ll share. If it is as big as the menu describes, then we should be able to share it and still get enough food.”
“Ok, let’s do that.”
When Stacy was done taking care of another table, she came over to the pair, that confident and warm smile still on her face. “Have you decided?”
“Yes. Ez and I are going to split the ‘Fifth Wheel’. Cheese of course, all the fixings please.” Sofia said, handing the menu cards back to Stacy who left them to watch the dancers on stage.
As the dancers on stage changed and the music changed, the teens shifted their attention to the dancers on stage as they began their performance.
The woman on the nearest stage was wearing a bright pink wig that matched her outfit. She had on a simple bra and panty set with long tassels hanging from the band around her chest and from the band around her hips. The set was bright pink and purple with the tassels being white. The strings moved, giving everyone a glimpse of her body as she danced on the pole, the stage floor and standing up.
The other woman was only wearing her panties having taken her dress off after the first song. Her long blonde hair moved freely as she also worked the pole as she danced. Her body was also toned and healthy, though this wasn’t uncommon since the WE came alive. Everyone was of a healthy weight.
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