Go to the club

You decide the best course of action is to go to the club as instructed. It is only a short distance away, and the walk helps you to clear your thoughts.

The initial weakness and unsteadiness you felt when you transferred into Tabby’s body have subsided, but you still have the nagging feeling that something is not quite right.

You snort a derisive laugh at the thought. “What the fuck is ‘normal’ anymore?” you say to yourself. Within the past 48 hours, you have gone from being a shy, geeky, inhibited college freshman to suddenly having strange psycho powers. While your body remains **** back at the university, your brain has inhabited several different bodies — male and female, alike. The inhibited sexual urges that had only manifested themselves in your fantasies and wet dreams suddenly become almost overpowering, compelling you to do outrageous — and even forbidden — things.

The cool night air does wonders to calm your nerves and clear your head. You reflect that there seems to be a direct correlation between the strength of your powers and the intensity of your sexual hunger. There also seems to be a connection between your libido and your personality. Looking back over the past couple of days, it is almost like watching a movie about someone else, even though you clearly remember being fully present and active during your sexual escapades. In retrospect, however, it seems that once you get to a certain level of horniness, there’s simply no stopping you from acting out whatever slutty scenario you find yourself in.

You are forming that hypothesis when the muffled sound of loud rock music causes you to look up. The sound is coming from inside the seedy-looking establishment with “BITCHES” illuminating the door in a neon sign. A rough-looking man stands at the door. A couple of middle-aged men approach, and the sentry nods at them and allows them to pass. Behind them is a group of younger guys. They dutifully hold out their IDs as they approach the door. The man glances at each ID before nodding and allowing entry. He holds out his hand to one of the young men and takes his ID for a closer inspection. Glaring, he thrusts it back to its owner and says, “Nice try. Come back in a couple of years when you’re old enough to shave, kid.”

The young man looks indignant. “Give me a break! I just want to see the girls! I’m old enough for that.” His protest falls on deaf ears. The older man points to a notice by the door: “No one under 21 admitted. No exceptions.” He says, “It’s just two more years, kid. We’ll still be here. Now beat it.”

One of his friends taps him playfully on the shoulder before bringing his hands between his legs and making an exaggerated masturbating motion. “That’s right, Jon. Go back to the dorm and ‘beat it.’” He and his buddies laugh as they leave Jon behind and enter BITCHES.

As the last of the young men go through the door, he gets Jon’s attention and points in your direction. “Hey, that looks like one of the girls. Maybe you can arrange for a private show with her.” Without waiting for a response, he disappears inside the establishment, leaving a dejected-looking Jon standing outside. He looks at you uncertainly before walking off.

You make your way toward the entrance, and the older man looks up. He recognizes you and says, “Hey, Tabs. Good to see you. It’s a full house tonight, and I hear it’s a bit more than the girls can handle.” He gestures with his head to his left. “The latch on the side door still isn’t fixed. Just knock on it, and someone will let you in.”

You nod and walk toward the corner of the building. A growing uncertainty returns in the pit of your stomach as you start to second guess coming here.

As you turn the corner you enter a dark alley. You see the side door of BITCHES, dimly illuminated by a single outdoor light. The alley is so dark that you almost walk past the person who is leaning against the wall. When he speaks, it startles you. You wonder if it is some back alley hoodlum and consider retreating from the alley when you recognize the person as Jon, the apparently-19-year-old college student who got separated from his older buddies.

“Hey,” he says, somewhat sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He steps a bit closer, and you can see the earnestness in his expression. “I was wondering if you could help me.”