The Club Below

They took dusty stairs and hallways. Lois felt the chill set in, especially in her aching nipples, in the plug in her ass that held the XXX inside. The metal conducted heat away from her body, and as the rod cooled, her nips get hard, tenting out the front of her shirt to make her new addition even more prominent than before.

Through the thin walls, Lois could hear the moans and grunts of people locked in sweaty sexual congress...

"Whores," Maria said hoarsely. "Most of the women that work here get the opportunity to make some extra cash that way. Management is pretty good about it. Client pays us directly, no percentage. They don't pay for condoms or lube either, but they let us buy 'em...and, well, some of the girls take their chances, and some of the customers like pregnant girls."

"Do you?" Lois asked, and then shut her mouth, not sure if that was an inapproriate question.

Maria was quiet for a time. "I tried it, once or twice. Just to see what it was like, you know? Cute guy or girl, flashing daddy's money. It's not like...I didn't feel any different after it, you know? Like so many people think you're supposed to feel dirty and cheap after it, but it was just like a date where we skipped the getting-to-know you part and got straight to the fucking. And the sex wasn't bad. Not great, but not bad. I just washed up after, and spent part of the money on an STI test at the clinic and...that was it. Not like I have 'WHORE' scratched onto my soul, you know?"

Lois nodded. She would have asked another question...but they had arrived.

It was a quiet space, some sort of former storage now occupied by a half-dozen old picnic tables, the kind with the built-in benches. Two racks of shelves held bottles, a long counter by a sink held glassware. The were two old refridgerators, one held beer and the other had wine. A metal box with a slot held the money, and people paid on the honor system; washed their own glasses. No music, no art on the walls, just...tired people, sitting, talking, drinking. Away from the noise and the hustle of upstairs.

A good place to maybe get some answers, Lois decided. She laid a hand on her stomach, felt the XXX sloshing around inside her rectum from the earlier enema. Drinking probably isn't a good idea...but I really need it. And it might be the way to get people talking.

The reporter fished some cash out of her wallet, and Maria popped it in the box and fetched ice, rum, and pineapple juice. They clinked glasses and Lois gulped half of it, her nipples really starting to hurt...

"New piercings?" A woman next to Lois leaned over and said.

"How'd you know?" Lois said...then looked down at her shirt and saw her nipples outlined in red circles of blood. The new holes had bled straight through.

"Better take it off before the stain sets. We've got club soda and the sink; a little warm water and it'll dry in no time."

Lois looked around. It was only women down here, and it had that sort of locker-room feel. The woman who spoke to her was tall and dark-haired, her long legs wrapped in tight jeans, a ripped black t-shirt hanging loose to leave her arms bare.