Read Online Fantasy Maker by Sabrina Kyle - Free Book Online Page B

and then salted and oiled, before
offering any ‘extras’ they might enjoy.
    After
that, the freshly bathed and massaged Romans would be handed togas
to wear and invited into the dining room. Here, once again, would
be a collection of alive statues, but this time in much more
provocative poses. A groaning buffet table would be laid, and
slaves in skimpy outfits would walk around with amphoras of
excellent wine. In the centre of the room would be a small swimming
pool where women would be frolicking invitingly.
    The men would then be encouraged to recline on chaise lounges, and
dancing girls would be brought on to provide some visual
entertainment whilst they ate.
    The
statues, the slaves, and the dancing girls, would all be amenable
to being fondled and touched, and would eventually be available for
other intimate acts. There could be curtained alcoves for those who
wanted privacy, but they would be encouraged by the girls to
indulge themselves openly on large piles of cushions or in the
pool.
    Jerry was
wild about my ideas and had to avail himself of my body several
times during the discussions as they got him so excited.
    It was
only after the fourth time he collapsed on top of me, that he
became aware of the obvious problem.
    “I love
these idea’s Stephanie,” he said to me, “but my house isn’t set up
to do all the different rooms we want. I suppose I could make some
alterations, but it isn’t very practical. Maybe I could convert one
of the nightclubs, but it would be expensive for just one
night!”
    That’s
when I pitched him a business idea. He’d often discussed his
various businesses with me and had always treated my opinions with
respect. He was the perfect backer for an idea I had.
    “How
about setting up a brothel?” I smiled, as he blinked in surprise.
“Not the usual kind, but a club that caters to
fantasies.”
    I stuck a
cigarette in my mouth, lit it and passed it over to him. He leaned
back on his bed and inhaled thoughtfully. “Go on,” he said at
last.
    “It
wouldn’t be exactly legal,” I warned him before I started, “But I
already have a list of clients that I know would join the club, and
who could be counted on to be discrete. Plus you have
confidentiality clauses in the sign up. After that, membership
would be on a referral basis only. It would be expensive and
exclusive, no advertising except word of mouth. All new members
would be vetted.”
    He
nodded, “You could find enough members to get it off the ground
could you?”
    “Yes, I
could also find the right kind of girls. That will be the greatest
challenge. They will need to be attractive, educated, and willing
to commit completely to the various roles they would have to play.
We would only be able to run fantasy nights at most once a week.
The girls would need special training for each one, but you could
still offer the usual one-to-one services, including private
fantasy stuff, during the week. I can come up with themed parties
that would be popular and I can organise the girls. I could also
sort out costumes for both the girls and the guests, and I can
order any props that would be needed for the night.” I paused,
gageing his reaction. He looked genuinely interested so I
continued, “But it needs an owner, someone with a few spare
millions who could buy a venue and pay to convert it for the
business. It would need to be in an upmarket part of town, Mayfair
perhaps, and it would need a front dummy company. Just think Jerry,
we could have a whole Roman suite of rooms, just like we planned
for your party, that were a permanent fixture?”
     
    It was as
simple as that. Jerry came up with the idea of hiding it in plain
sight by putting it side by side with the traditional Gentlemen’s
Clubs of St James’, and we called it The Colosseum Club on the
outside. But known only to the members it was actually The House of
Decadence.
    I think
he hid it behind several dummy companies that were based in remote
parts of the world,