Volume 3: A Shot in the Dark
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The group around the Octopus seemed to be settling in for the evening, and they evidently no longer required my assistance. The blonde woman's place had been taken by the muscular oriental man I had spoken to earlier, and he and the machine's appendages were now engaged in a wrestling match he must have anticipating losing, judging by the way the tentacles were already massaging his balls and caressing his anus. As I watched, two tentacles converged on his rock-hard and impressively large cock, one wrapping itself around its base and the other folding in on itself before sliding over his helmet. The automation flashed me a sign indicating that I was required elsewhere. I made my way slowly around the club until I ended up in the hospitality suite, adjacent to the main reception area, where the VIP members and guests wre usually greeted. When I arrived, the room was clamorous and nearly full with guests circulating, and several other hosts and hostesses were offering drinks and drugs, or assisting in more intimate ways. Madame Maxine and Kitti were both in evidence, greeting personally a few of the more important - or at least self-important - guests themselves, occasionally directing members of staff, or introducing one member to another, based on their encyclopedic knowledge of everyone's indulgences and peccadilloes. In this area, dress of some description is generally worn, although elegant nudity - frequently aided with extravagant make-up or body paint - is also much in evidence. Some wore elaborate garments of leather and straps and boots, while other wore clothing which, I'm told, in another era would have been regarded as underwear - a popular retro look these days. Yet others wore modern clingy and intermittently revealing dresses, usually needing built-in automation to manage the flow of the fabrics. Looking over, I could see Madame Maxine, looking regal in her black silk kimono, rather formally embracing another woman, although the apparent formality was somewhat dispelled by the kiss exchanged and the way Madame patted the naked ass of her friend. The stranger had a tall slender form, pale skin and very dark - almost black - hair piled up on top of her head in an artful mass of tangles and curls, and looked cool and elegant with narrow hips and muscular thighs, and tastefully large and smoothly-rounded breasts. She was dressed, in the retro style many people seem to prefer these days, in lacy white underwear: stockings and suspenders, with tottering strappy high-heeled shoes and a revealing brassiere - but not, I noticed immediately, any knickers. Glancing in my direction, the proprietor subtly waved me over, a gesture make unambiguous by a subliminal flash from the PA. "Tania," Maxine instructed as I approached, "Please guide my good friend Victoria to the Wet Rooms." "At once, Madame." Maxine nodded to the other woman, then turned away to smoothly intercept another new arrival. I faced the newcomer. "How can I be of assistance?" I asked, carefully formal. "Oh, there's no need to stand on ceremony, Dearie," she said with a noticeably British accent, "Just call me Vicky." I wondered whereabouts in England she had originally come from, and also wondered how long she had lived over here, since long-distance travel is now so rare. "OK, Vicky," I replied, warming to the woman immediately, "Just what can I do for you?" She looked me up and down, realizing for the first time, perhaps, just what kind I was. "Maxine told me that you had a Hydra here," she said, grinning widely, "Perhaps you'd care to help me with it?"
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Part 1