Chapter 1

Hunks and Dolls squatted just outside the city limits of a Midwestern college town. It was a 'gentlemen's club' -- which translates generally as 'strip bar.' Most of the month, it catered to males from 21 to 90 who weren't getting any female entertainment at home. It was a clean place -- there was no prostitution in the back, although if you wanted to spend money for a 'champagne room' you could expect to be jerked off while exploring every square inch of the dancer you were with. MAYBE once in a while one of the girls got carried away, but it was against the rules -- and any girl caught actually hooking was let go (or perhaps hired elsewhere, as there WERE a couple of underground cathouses in the town.) Once a week, however, the big main room catered to the ladies, hosting male strippers for 'Ladies Night.' Every other week, 'Ladies Night' was pretty much a female version of the normal thing -- no limitations on the female customers and the male dancers handled things as female ones did -- no actual sex. However, on the OTHER evenings dedicated to the ladies, the 'Unrestricted Ladies Nights' the parties were decidedly different...

For one thing, for Unrestricted Ladies Night the club converted to a private one; the evening was conducted as a private party for a club -- a club the women had to be a member of called 'Discerning Damsels.' To get in, a woman had to fill out an application and sign a release acknowledging the fact that they were aware that they might actually witness sex acts. The disclaimer actually said 'participate in sex acts' in the fine print, but few girls read that far; besides, they knew the score -- it was part of the draw, after all ... There were other, unlisted restrictions -- basically, old married ladies couldn't get in to the main room. The club didn't want married girls -- or even girls with steady boyfriends -- attending the main party, as they were considered to be too likely to develop a conscience over things that happened during the parties and put a damper on things or force some kind of investigation. Actually, the club opened a side room to the married and/or over-thirty females where the male strippers put in an occasional appearance -- but they tended to be flagged from their efforts in the main room. The older matrons got thrown an occasional bone -- and the fight over said morsels by this often more desperate crowd could be tooth and nail and quite entertaining -- but the main room had most of the action.

The main room catered to college girls who filled out their applications and disclaimers and paid twenty-five dollars to gain entrance, where heavy-beat music mixes played constantly and drink flowed freely and inexpensively and a trip to the Ladies Room might score them some pot or maybe a tab of Ecstasy. Six buffed male strippers with serious, working erections worked the stage and the floor; at least four of them were in the main room at all times, and one was generally doing his thing on the long stage that dominated the center of the room. And this was where the word 'Unrestricted' came in; generally, especially after nine p.m., a stripper didn't leave the stage until he had ejaculated in the mouth or pussy of some member of the audience! Everybody in the room was encouraged to push the limits, deliberately; a roving cameraman videoed the girls dancing and kissing and fondling each other and the dancers -- or engaging in sex acts -- and the video appeared on four big-screen TVs along the walls, adding to the flow of excitement and lowering the barriers. Drunken girls watching other drunken girls bare their breasts or fondle huge male cocks tended to look upon the idea of doing such things themselves with a lot less concern...

The whole situation was carefully designed to encourage excess, for a number of reasons. The clientele was selected for their age and inexperience and their receptivity and they were encouraged at every turn to do something bawdy. Grade A girls tended not to attend these parties -- they HAD boyfriends or they had other interests -- and probably experience, too. The parties tended to collect Grade B or C -- or even Grade D girls -- which tended to ramp things up as the lower grades in particular possessed a certain amount of desperate fascination for the exposed male members. They also tended to let it all hang out once properly lubricated and aroused...

'Encouraged' is the operative word, though; there was NO coercion in the big room. The dancers encouraged audience participation, bringing girls onto the stage to be kissed and licked and fondled and to get their fill of returning the favor to the dancers. Things started slowly and ramped up; early participants got a kiss or a feel, while later ones might get a pretend fuck, then as more and more of the dancer was exposed, things would get more and more torrid. A dancer who was nude and invited a girl onto the stage usually started with kissing and mutual caresses, but would move on to attempting to remove clothing or feel the girl up -- but the moment she refused any advance, the dancer would back off, give her a goodbye kiss, and hand her off the stage. There were plenty of fish in the sea; he would move on to the next volunteer -- who knew what would be asked of her and was usually willing to supply it. Many a girl who instinctively put a stop to a dancer's advances found herself on the sidelines wishing she hadn't been an idiot while her replacement rubbed herself over the dancer's buff body.

The first dancer of the evening might find the crowd too uptight to get down to actually blowing or fucking him, but by nine-thirty, the girls were up to crossing the line. Once things got hot on the stage, the 'off-duty' dancers, who were circulating through the crowd half-dressed, could also ramp things up. Between ten-thirty and midnight, just about all of them were in a pussy or a mouth or at least mauling and fondling a girl all the time and dependent upon Viagra to maintain themselves. Things got wilder and wilder until the official closing time at two a.m.

This brings us to the other activities -- starting with a second group of 'club members.' These were also males in the same age group as the girls -- males who paid two hundred fifty dollars a pop to pretend to be waiters, dressed in T-shirts with a Chippendale collar and fake set of pecs and washboard abs on them. These 'waiters' circulated on the floor, limited to five at any one time, taking advantage of an odd phenomenon first noticed in male customers during normal operating hours -- that other women present -- wait staff and the VERY occasional female customer -- got a LOT more attention than the dancers. The idea seemed to be that they weren't 'professionals, ' but -- especially in the case of the female customers -- were open to sex, one way or another. There weren't enough dancers to go around, so aroused females turned to the 'wait staff' to help cover the bases, instinctively aware of the fact that they would be receptive. The 'waiters' had the same rules as the dancers -- no meant no -- but in a room filled with overexcited young women this wasn't a serious issue. When an individual got his fill and could perform no more, the next guy on the list put on a T-shirt and headed out into the crowd. These 'members' referred to Hunks and Dolls as 'The Hump Club.'

Naturally, this activity was a closely-guarded secret -- NOBODY was going to admit to what was going on to ANY girl, given the fact that the gravy train would undoubtedly pull out of the station soon afterward. Fraternity pledges got filled in when they made the grade and became brothers -- it was a 'perk' of membership. Other groups were selectively recruited as necessary, including unaffiliated jocks, certain teaching assistants and assistant professors and others who the management had some contact with and control of or confidence in. The local police cooperated fully in return for their share. Age was a criterion; you had to be under thirty and not TOO ugly to make the main room. Older guys could play the game in the side room with the older matrons -- and given the usual condition of the dancers during a rotation to the matron's room, they were badly needed there. Sex in the older crowd happened in the 'champagne rooms' as opposed to right there on the dance floor in the main room; couples were never alone in order for management to prove a lack of coercion -- and were always videoed. To avoid the appearance of running a house of prostitution, this group of 'members' had actual employment applications on file, which made them employees covered under the disclaimers the girls signed.

Girls who got too drunk or stoned to stay vertical were taken to the back rooms and tended to by a couple of the staff -- and if they recovered more or less by closing time, they were put back out into the pool. AFTER closing time was another matter; the hangover cure offered before closing was mixed with a little Ecstasy and a date-rape drug -- just enough to keep them pliable -- then the dancers came in and kissed and fondled them while one or two or five or six OTHER guys fucked them silly at a hundred bucks a pop. The camera team got THAT on video, too -- shots of clear cooperation by the girl in a gang-bang that would keep everyone involved out of trouble. Usually, the girl's face was the only one clearly on display, and shots would carefully show her in more lucid moments, but being boned furiously. The girl was usually a total blank in the morning -- and if she seemed disposed to start a ruckus, she got to see the video. Given the fact that the police were in the bag, a girl really didn't have much to say...

The flip side was that there were three or four girls every year that seemed to make a point of hanging out in the back rooms. These girls, well, didn't require coercion; once they'd deliberately delivered themselves to the back room a couple of times, they were taken aside and their wants and needs were discussed and dealt with. Generally, after these discussions, they tended to merely hang out until closing time in a more or less sober condition and retired to the back room for sex under their own power. These girls -- and some of the more loose party animals in the front room, who could be counted upon to heat things up by sucking a dick or fucking a dancer -- were given perks such as free admission and subsidized bar tabs; the back-room girls, in particular, saved management time and effort and trouble and drugs -- and provided a better fuck to the male customers, anyway, since they weren't drugged. One or two moved on to the local sex industry -- others just liked gang-bangs...

For various reasons, the older matrons were completely segregated from this process, too. In the first place, they were less likely to drink until they crashed -- and in the second, they were less likely to be pliant. The odd crash ended up in a champagne room and was left alone, sexually, although someone would keep an eye on her to ensure she didn't die of alcohol poisoning. Generally, these were few and far between, as the bartenders in the side room tended to cut off the obviously inebriated.

All in all, the concept worked; it was lucrative for the club and it provided sexual outlets for local males and females. Girls that went to Unrestricted Ladies Night knew in general that they were going to be bathed in sex and that was what they were there for -- so complaints were few and far between, even from girls who spent the night in the back room. The whole thing was so popular that the club moved it from the original Thursday or Sunday night to Saturday -- it was a bigger draw than the normal business.

This particular Saturday night was to be the culmination of Bart Delacroix's plans for his future. It was his third visit in three months -- and while he had sampled the charms of several girls on previous visits, the primary purpose of the exercise had been research aimed at a long-term solution to his particular situation. Bart (that's Hobart, not Bartholomew -- you can readily understand that he already had one strike against him in dealing with women) intended to cut to the chase and collect a semi-permanent receptacle for his seminal overflow at the very least -- and to do that, he needed a particular type of woman...

The selection was nothing if not varietal. Perfect physical specimens were in limited supply -- but then, that's the case in the general population if you consider runway models 'perfect.' There was actually thinner available, if your tastes ran to that -- basically, the actively anorexic -- but the general run of the group crowding the room was somewhat plush, varying from visually appealing curves to, well, seriously heavy, in places. Breast sizes were all over the map -- and many times not in conformance with the rest of the body involved. The same went for hips and asses. Bart swept the room again with his eyes, but he had more or less settled on a target. "So, are you gonna DO something?" his partner, Ed Monroe, asked, "or are you just gonna stand there and look?"

"Go on," Bart chuckled. "I know what I'm doing. See that one over there?"

"Over there" was a bit vague, so Ed asked for and got clarification until he had zeroed in on the target. "The bride of Frankenstein? What the fuck? What is she, six foot seven? Of all the bitches in this room..." Ed shook his head.

"Oh, come on, Ed! She's six feet even, max. Besides, are you telling me that you wouldn't let her suck your cock?" Bart chided.

"Well, sure..." Ed's master plan for the evening was the 'Four Fs' -- Find 'em, Feel 'em, Fuck 'em and Forget 'em -- and he'd spent the last two hours hopping from foot to foot waiting to unleash himself on the unsuspecting female population. "But there are other fish in the sea..."

"Yes, there certainly are..." Bart agreed blandly. He knew that -- in fact, he was counting on it. Hobart Delacroix came from a well-to-do Midwestern family and had had a good life thus far, with one exception -- he had never, EVER been allowed to come out on top in a relationship with a female. It was an itch that he had wanted to scratch since his earliest memory -- and tonight, he planned to scratch it.