The club Eros is well known for its wide range of sinfully delicious acts it offers. As the best sex dungeon in town, it truly provides a unique and outrageous experience every night. Attendees can only come via a personal invitation from the mysterious owner. Even the most successful, rich, and famous individuals find it difficult to procure an invitation. It’s rumored some have even murdered others just for the chance of an invitation. I happen to find myself possessing one of these rare invitations, delivered to my hotel room in a black envelope with a golden seal shaped like a luscious woman’s ample breast. It came with a simple set of instructions: dress to impression, bring your invitation for entry, arrive promptly at 8 o’clock, and tell no one what you saw. It’s what I expected, truth be told, but a final handwritten instruction left me intrigued and curious. Bring plenty of cash, specifically dollar bills and quarters.
I dressed in a form-fitting black three-piece suit accented with a blood-red waitcoat and golden cuff links. I had no idea why I had caught the attention of the elusive club owner, but I was not one to turn down such a perfect gift. Many have been said to go mad wondering what goes on behind its dark pink walls and flashing blue signs. While those who entered would merely give a dreamy, almost hazy orgasmic grin when asked what was inside. Today would be the day I discovered what lurked behind these walls. A hulking figure that cast a dark shadow across the entryway, checked over my invitation and waved me in.
“Enjoy the attraction tonight, sir. I hope you brought plenty of cash,” he said with a grin while lifting the red velvet rope. I entered through two large obsidian doors, waiting at the entrance were a redheaded man and woman, both wearing tight suits it a deep bow. They looked like they could be twins, as they raised in unison with welcome smiles.
“Welcome, dear guest, we have been awaiting your arrival. We hope you will enjoy today’s attention, for the owner has truly created a splendid show. Follow us to your suite tonight, as each show will be a private exhibition.” They waved their hands to the right where a bubble and large-chested maid appeared at the hall entrance. Her latex maid outfit was short, cutting off halfway down her thigh, and shined in the neon pink lights of the hall. The latex-hugged, every curve and oiled to perfection. She walked me down the hall, beckoning my way, dozens of doors held muffled moans and gasps of pleasure. I tried my best to focus on the maid, but my curiosity was beginning to hunger for a glimpse into these unknown worlds. Finally, at the end of the hall, at the last door the maid halted and opened it for me, she nodded her head and waved me inside.
A plus black leather couch was settled in the middle of the room, and in front of it hidden beneath a deep blue curve, appeared to be a large box. It stood at least 6 foot 5 inches in height and was wide enough to contain many human or larger-sized items. I slowly approached the couch and unbuttoned my suit jacket before taking a seat on the inviting couch. The maid stood in front of the mysterious box and began to recite a very well-rehearsed speech.
“Welcomed honored guest. We at Club Eros are proud to present the most recent exhibitions here in our sacred halls. To your left is a money bowl to place the cash you We were instructed to bring, this is so it is easier to access once the entertainment begins. We would like to remind guests that all participants are consenting to this performance but can stop this at any time. So please respect our friends and co-workers with the utmost reverence,” She motioned to a big purple cord connected to the curtains, “When you are ready to begin, please pull the cord and enjoy the show.” She took a bow and shuffled out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
It was just me and the mystery box.
I wanted to enjoy this moment, so I took my time before unwrapping my present. I emptied the contents of my wallet into the bowl as instructed. Removed my jacket and neatly folded it along the couch before unbuttoning and rolling up my sleeves. A minibar was located to my right, with a written sign stating it was complimentary. I found a set of whiskey glasses and a bottle of the house’s home-brewed whiskey. I poured myself a glass with two ice cubes, I let it slowly move its way down my throat. It was earthy, with a gentle burn with an aroma of cinnamon and apples. I had settled in quite nicely; it was time to see what was behind curtain number 1.
With a drink in hand, I pulled the cord. The blue curtain fluttered to the floor like a wave crashing to shore. Before me sat the bulkiest pink and black vendor machine I have ever seen in my life. The base paint is blushing pink while the words are done in glittery night sky black, the top of the machine reads Pleasure Machine. The buttons are unreadable as no light illuminates them, at the very top the numerous buttons are a coin slot and dollar feeder with simple elegant letters that read Feed Me, Daddy.
Is this supposed to be some sort of condom and toy dispenser? I thought to myself, disappointed. All that build-up, and it’s a fancied-up condom machine, what a pathic game. I scoff and take another sip of whiskey; I pace the room for a moment, wondering if I’ve been made a fool. Thinking I should call it an evening and take myself home before suffering further humiliation. But as I grab my jacket, I stop myself. Eyeing the cash bowl, plucking a shiny quarter from its horde I had gathered.
It wouldn’t be too much of a hassle to place one in the machine and let them laugh. I twirl the quarter in between my fingers while taking steps towards the vending machine. Show them I’m a good sport and go, and it’ll cost me nothing but a quarter.
Place the quarter in the coin slot and press a random button. The machine comes alive; the buttonsshine in their neon hue one by one. And as the inside begins to illuminate, the center of the machine shows me its dark purpose.
In the center of this machine are no snacks or drinks, or even condoms. But a beautiful blonde and blue-eyed girl. She is on her ass, legs bound to the ceiling and arms pinned behind her back. Her beautiful cunt and heaving breasts are on complete display. Naked and wild-eyed, she blinks in disappoint at the sudden bright lights, attempting to squirm but barely able to make a single movement. She looks around, unable to see me, the glass must work as a one-way mirror. My mouth hangs open suddenly I am very thirsty and it’s not for the whiskey spinning on the floor next to where I dropped it. After a moment, I’m finally able to remove my eyes from her and down the illuminated buttons. The first three read as “Tease 25 Cents, Tickle 75 Cents, and Vibration 1.00 Dollar.” My eyes follow the flashing timer just above the cash taker, which reads Every quarterr is 5 minutes, every dollar is an hour.
The bowl of cash is in my hand once again, like a man possessed with a mission I place the next quarter in the machine.
A robotic voice sings strictly, “Thank you for your purchase deploying Tease for 5 minutes.” The girl’s blue eyes go wide and begin to dart wildly around her, searching for the source of the voice as slots start to open from the walls inside the vendor machine. I slowly step back onto the plus couch, not wanting to let my eyes miss a single moment of this. From the opened slots on her right and left, two robotic arms come out and grip her breast roughly squeezing them in between their chrome, probably icy fingertips. She tries to let out a surprised yelp, but it comes out as a muffled cry due to the gag tied around her mouth.
I watch as She endlessly tries to twist out of the grasp of the mechanical hands, as they begin to massage and stroke lightly across her ample breast. She tries this for a couple of seconds, till one of her pale nipples is pinched between its fingers. I watch as a chill shivers up her spine and a muffled moan escapes her as it begins to roll her sensitive nipples. She arches her back into it as both hands begin to work her nipples, rolling, pinching and even tugging at random intervals. They become perfect pink mountain tips under the robotic hand’s skilled programming. At first, she moans sweetly beneath her eyes rolling back in ecstasy, I’m sitting on the edge of my seat my whiskey turned lukewarm, untouched in my hand. At the 4-minute and 20-second mark, her moans become frustrated groans as she attempts to lift her ass, grinding the air. Her attention is below, but the robotic hands ignore her motion and continue teasing her breast till her nipples are as flushed as her cheeks.
The bell rings, and the robotic hands return to the slots they came from, and she is panting. Her arousal is clear, pale skin blushing from her cheeks to her shoulder and breast. Her eyes look disappointed the touches have ended. I once again approach the machine, three-quarters rubbing against each other in my sweety palms. For a moment, I enjoy watching her eyes dart around, her frustration clearing and growing, squirming with the little ability she can. I lick my lips and loosen my satin tie, the heat from my arousal makes the room like a sauna. I place the next three-quarters within, and press on the next illuminated button. Tickle 75 cents.
The machine’s voice comes to life once more, “Thank you for your purchase deploying Tickle of 15 minutes.” The girl squeals behind her gag with delight as, once again, the mechanical arms descend upon her, she throws her back, wiggling in delight. But instead of approaching her hardened nipples, they approach her sides and without any delicateness, begin to squeeze and knee them. The blonde bombshell chased on her moan and started to giggle and squirm desperately, trying to escape the tickling hands. This was notwhat I was expecting. Her heightened arousal has made her vulnerable to the ticklish assault, making her even more vulnerable than before. Her squeaks are cute as the hands continue to massage and ticke her sides mercilessly, then from the floor just under her thigh, two more hands rise from it. The robotic hands begin to rake across her things and squeeze in the same fashion as the ones at her sides. Her squeals reach a new Octave, her eyes are wild, and the squirming becomes more desperate and futile, she has a little sweat beginning to form as her face turns a light red from her muffled laughter. She endures this torque for ten full minutes.
I enjoy watching her suffering under ticklish torque, the way her breasts jump with every laugh and sweet giggle has my erection pushing at my zipper desperately. But as the tickling appears to slow down, another slot opens from the floor of the machine a smaller robotic arm holding a single lush blue feather. The two arms ticking her thighs stop and deliciously spread her puffy pussy lips, swollen from arousal and sweat. Expposing her cute pleasure button. The entire hood of her sensitive clip is exposed, and she avoids enough composition to look down and see what’s coming. Her eyes become wild; she begins to shake her head while screaming no into her gag. The robotic hands have no ears to hear her pleasure, and I have no desire to save her from this.
The tip of the feather is painfully slow and methodical as it begins to stroke her clip, the girl moans and screams in one breath. The feather continues its assault slowly and surely tickling her clip in a maddening fashion. It switches between slow and long strokes up and down her cunt to a twirling spiral across just her clip. Her tights shake with need and desperation, but the hands never stop their delicious purpose.
“Tickle, Tickle, little Princess,” I mutter to myself as she continues to moan and beg behind her gag. Tears of frustration form at the corner of her eyes as her cunt grows wet with the need for more pressure and gratifying teasing. By the time the last 5 minutes are up, she is a dripping mess of sweat, tears, and glistening slick across her cunt. Her breathing is ragged, as she hangs her head, catching her breath while the air around her causes goosebumps to form on her light skin.
The last button Is glowing bright. Vibration- 1.00. A fucking dollar to watch her come undone with release for a whole hour. I unzip my pants and pull out my throbbing cock, as begin to stroke my length I load in the dollar.
“Don’t worry baby, we’re both going to cum tonight,” with those words I press the final illuminated button and the sweet voice sings to me my price.
The vending machine comes to life once more, I watch as she groans waiting for the inevitable torture of teasing to continue once more. The two hands once again rise from the floor, but instead of tickling her tighs their way to her hips and rest their cold roboticpalms against her. She eyes them nervously; I lick my lips, enjoying her arousal and anticipation. My cock head twitched at the sight of her twitching clip, I nearly bust at the sight of her wide eyes as the little robotic had risen, but instead of a feather, it was holding an XL vibrating dildo. She wants it. Her eyes and heaving breasts say as much as the tip of its head presses against her cunts entrance. But she’s hesitating; it’s massive. Perhaps she is afraid she can’t take it.
The machine doesn’t let her stall any longer. She yelps as the hands resting on her hips grab her roughly and forcefully push her onto the monster of a toy. She lets out a primary scream and moan, as her pussy takes the entire cock to the hilt. My forehead touches the glass, my hot breath fogging up some of its display. This is the most Sensual experience I’ve ever had, and I haven’t even touched the girl.
Only contributed to her every tease and torque. As I watch the dildo be pushed in andout of her, her back in a desperate, impossible arch, I know I would continue to torment her for whatever it would cost me. She moans through the gag, eyes closed, body moving as if a succubus possesses her. I Fist my cock, pumping myself into my hand, imagining the feel of her tight wet cunt wrapped around my dick. She would be milking me dry after the sexual torque I put her through.
The vibrator increases Its speed inside of her she moans wildly when I think she could’t possibly handle any more. The vibrator continues thrusting in and out when suddenly a slot opens from the ceiling of the machine where another robotic hand descends directly towards her exposed swollen clip. I watch, memorizing, waiting for the inevitable shock that it would be towards her system. Just as her pleasure seems to hit a steady pace, she opens her eyes. Just in time to see her clip pinched, a scream escapes her gag, and she squirts on the glass right where my forehead is pressed against the machine.
I cum at the sight of her pleasure torture, my hot cum coating my side of the glass. Her breath is labored as the vibrator and clip torture reach her to heights of pleasure, I pump my cock till every drop is emptied. She lets out a long, wonderful scream of pleasure as her entire body shudders with sweet release. The timer dings sweetly, the robotic hands return to their original slots. Her restraints are loosened, and I watch as she slowly frees herself from her restraints.
The voice of the vending machine sings sweetly, “Thank you for your participation tonight in Club Eros’s performance of the Vending machine.”
I breathe heavily and stumble backward, running my fingers through my hair, just noticing the sweat trickling down my hair and neck. The blonde beauty carefully massages her limbs, and Just before the machine goes dark. I swear to God she looked straight at me, smiled mischievously, and mouthed thank you.
Twenty minutes later, a latex-wearing maid guided me back to the front of Club Eros the same twin servants bowing and hoping all of the dazed and sweaty customers a farewell for the evening. Men, women, and couples excited the club with a dazed look of satisfaction, but also hunger. I felt it myself, I loved every minute of this event but god how hunger was beginning to stir in me for more.
Before getting back in my car, I looked back at Club Eros, shining pink lights illuminated its doors still. It feel like a calling, a siren song that I would never be able to stop listening to again.
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