Walk in and get a drink...

You pushed the door open, unconsciously posing to draw attention...only the place is almost completely empty. The dance floor has music thumping quietly...but only an older married couple are dancing on it, and they must have requested a specific song, as rather than the standard EDM, it's playing and oldie, one of the ones that you've always liked, even if online discourse, "Baby it's cold outside," you'd always liked it, even if some of the lyrics were problematic.

As the futa crooned, back, answering the man's question of "what's in this drink?" with "no cabs to be had out here" actually made you wince, but they were clearly a happy couple, reliving a song from their youth. Too old for you to want to play with them, so your gaze swept on. There was an employee wearing a tight little black dress that did nothing to conceal an impressive cock, standing on one of the raised platforms for dancing, but she was just watching the older couple with a small smile.

They'd actually pulled a temporary wall over, blocking off the spanking benches, stocks and public restraints that were usually on the other side of the room. There was a door, but a quick glance through as you walked showed a single employee in there, working on his laptop, though he started to hide it when you walked past, he stopped when he recognized you and nodded politely. "Hey, Doug."

You nod back, "Hey, Will!"

Will was older then you, a slim, handsome man in an outfit not too dissimilar to yours. In fact, you'd modeled yours on his, with enough changes not to be just a copycat. Will was a professional sub for the club, demonstrating bondage techniques, helping futa get over their fears of hurting subs, provided in person workshops in the club, which were always popular and he was even a small time BDSM influencer, with his videos on how to best take massive futa cocks being how you'd originally heard about this place. He also taught a self-defense course for men, not to fight, of course, fighting a futa without a gun, or a weapon to balance the scales was suicidal, and even with one, it was really dangerous, no his course was focused on how to satisfy a futa attacker as quickly, completely and as low risk as possible...That had been very educational, but he was clearly working, so you left him in peace.

The free use wall, with its holes for dicks, necks, or even waists, was completely empty, though a big black futa was working on one of the holes on the end, replacing the soft, smooth fabric that lined the interior of the hole to protect against chaffing and reinforcing the whole, which, you noticed as you walked past, was actually damaged? She muttered something about "fucking Alicia shouldn't be allowed back in here, that cock's a menace to infrastructure, not just bois."

Access comes with two drink vouchers, though you weren't old enough for any of the alcoholic drinks (it was hilarious to you and, you knew from past experience, the bartender, that you were 18 and so old enough to be in this club, but not old enough to drink ****), they did have energy drinks, and...rehydration focused ones for when a partner came so much they might actually be dehydrated. Given how empty the place was. Getting an energy drink would waste a bit of time, and make sure you were at your best for whatever came next.

You walk to the bar, its long length of polished expensive wood was usually packed, but this time you had it to yourself. The screen behind it that usually showed the public play room downstairs still did...but it was empty, so boring. The second showed commercial porn, one of your favorite pornstars, Diamond Jackson was splitting some Asian femboy open in a business meeting, cruelly denying any of the other futas the right to use her toy's mouth, as she displayed her dominance. Not bad. The last screen showed the feed from the club's social media, where folks posted authorized clips of their visits to the club. He'd made sure not to go into any of the open recording rooms, or authorize any recording, as he didn't want his family to spot them on social media, but they were hot as hell. The current scene was one of the top rated ones, twin bois being led around the stage on a leash by their mistress, who auctions off access to their asses to the howling crowd in exchange for promises about boyfriends, friends, bosses, employees, sons and fathers. You snorted to yourself remembering the top comment under that video:

I should be mad about it, but I found out how she got those twins so obedient! Alicia number 1, sorry babe!

You sit down and nod to the bartender, who looks away from her phone and slides over to you. Her eyes light up after a moment, recognizing you. "Doug, right?"

"Yeah, Asia?" you ask, though she has a name tag sewn into her too tight maid outfit. The name was obviously fake though, all the futa employees used fake names, though he wasn't entirely sure why. It's not like working at a sex club was scandalous? Though you could see why she and the other 'off limits' employees would. Her hard cock tented the front of her maid outfit, but you knew that it was actually tied with elaborate knots to her belly, with silk restraints, almost like a belt for her cock, which meant she couldn't get it into anyone.

Some bois tried to tease the "off limits" futas because there was a rumor that if you could make them so hard they broke their restraints, then there was some reward (besides the undoubtedly incredibly fucking you'd get), but you'd never bothered. It seemed mean and it's not like it was hard to get futa attention generally, let alone in a place like this. Besides, if just being in the club didn't do it, you doubted anything you did would.

"You remembered! Or you can read. What can I getcha?"

"Give me a Cumback Caffeine. Is it always this quiet this early?" you ask. "When does it start to heat up?"

"Depends on the day. But yeah, usually the Jacksons over there," she nodded to the married couple, you glance over and see the man has somehow lost his pants, "are our only early customers, they come in every day. Honestly, we shouldn't open this early, but the boss doesn't have the heart to change the hours, the Jacksons have been coming here since this place used to be the Cat and Mouse."

She pauses, then passes you the drink, its frothy pink, designed for men, as no futa is likely to need extra energy when there's a chance to get their balls drained. You sip it.

She hurries to continues, "All the amenities are available, though. The playrooms, the on-call domme and sub, if you need a quick fuck, or a slow one, not like there's a line this time of day!"

You smile at her, reassuring her that you aren't disappointed...even though you are. The professionals were all well and good, but always made you feel like you were, well, hiring a professional, which didn't feel great. You were all dolled up and no one to stare at you, touch you, want you...it wasn't what you'd hoped for today.

Then you hear doors swing open and turn to face them, only to be surprised by who you see...

Writer's Note: Thanks to Grok for the drink name, I'm shit at coming up with those.