Perverts 'R' Us

Letter Number Seven From Wendy

By Ellen ( M+/f, voy, cons )

Dear Reader,

Mom suddenly decided that she needed to take a photo of Leon and me so, asking us to wait for a moment, she went upstairs to get her camera. When she came back she handed me one of her lovely silken shawls, this one made of rich golden-colored silk. Draping it around my shoulders, she stood back and had Leon and I pose for several photographs. I didn't mind because I knew that, to her, this was a very important occasion as she was sending her only daughter out into the big wide world on her first serious date - a date which was - if she but knew it at the time - to change both our lives in ways we could not even imagine at the time.

The photographs duly taken, Leon escorted me to the waiting limousine and the chauffeur opened the rear door for Leon to hand me in. To say the interior of the car was luxurious would be no exaggeration. It was, with real leather seats, a beautiful carpet on the floor and with all the fitments, including a small, well-stocked bar, that go with the vehicles belonging to the rich and famous. A sliding glass partition separated the passenger compartment from the chauffeur who, once Leon and I were settled, started the motor and we drove off to meet with my destiny.

Leon played the part of the considerate host to perfection. Opening the bar, he offered me a choice of its contents. I didn't want alcohol so early in the evening and opted for a deliciously cold glass of freshly squeezed orange juice while he helped himself to a light beer. Without asking me, he activated the sound system and the most beautiful piece of piano music I'd ever heard came through the discreetly placed speakers. We sat back, listening to the music and I asked him what it was. He told me it was the first movement of a piano sonata by Beethoven - the one called the 'Moonlight Sonata.' I was surprised that he had chosen such a calm, peaceful piece of music - not what I was expecting at all to be a favorite of a young man of his type. I'd expected rock n'roll or heavy metal. We got into a discussion of our respective tastes in music and before I knew it the car was out of the city and heading out into the desert.

Looking out of the window at the almost barren landscape I did feel a little like those heroines of the romantic novels who are captured by desert nomads and carried off to their fate in some lonely, isolated oasis. My captor, however, was no desert nomad but a perfectly groomed young man who was treating me almost like a movie star. I must admit I was flattered by his attention and was lapping it up like a puppy with a bowl of fresh cream.

The journey lasted for almost an hour before the limo slid to a stop in a small settlement, little more than a collection of half a dozen houses on the shores of a lake. It was a beautiful spot with the hills in the background and the still waters of the lake reflecting the setting sun. There was one building that stood out from the rest and the car came to a halt at the foot of the steps leading up to the ornate door. At first I thought it was some sort of church or temple but the doors opened and a uniformed janitor emerged. Coming to the car he opened the door. "Good evening Sir," he said as Leon stepped out. He turned and came round to my side, holding the door open for Leon to hand me out. "Good evening Madam," he said. "Welcome to Club Georgio." The limousine disappeared round the back of the building and Leon took my arm and led me inside.

Although the exterior of the building was very ordinary, this was only a façade, for once inside I was immediately struck by the opulence of the lobby. It was just as luxurious as any five-star hotel yet, there was nothing ostentatious about it. It was a kind of quiet, subdued elegance that murmured 'money' yet didn't boast about it. There were paintings on the walls and the floor was partly of marble and the rest covered by what looked like oriental carpet in muted tones of red, blue, green and gold. Leon guided me over to the reception desk where an elegantly dressed black girl welcomed us with a flashing smile. She took my shawl and we went over to the carved oaken door that led off the lobby and into a small bar.

There were two or three other couples already there, all of them older, mature couples obviously out for an evening's wining and dining, the men in tuxedos and the women fashionably dressed in long-skirted evening gowns. I was glad that mom had helped me buy my dress for although I felt very self-conscious and not a little awkward inside as I had never been in such company before, Leon's presence at my side, and the obvious respect paid to him by the establishment's staff, helped to settle my nervousness. The barman, a big black guy, made us welcome and, when Leon asked me what I would like to drink, suggested one of his special cocktails. I don't know what he called it, but his performance in preparing it was worthy of any circus act and when, eventually, he put the frosted glass in front of me and I tasted it I realized this was something he'd made up specially for me. It was light and sweet and icy cold but not, so far as I could tell, had any alcohol in it, or if it had it was discreetly melded with the other ingredients.

We sat at the bar sipping our drinks and exchanging pleasantries and small talk with the barman - well, at least Leon did. He obviously knew the man well and from what I gathered was a well respected client of the establishment. I sat there, soaking up the atmosphere and wondering what I - a 12-year-old schoolgirl - was doing in such surroundings. This was way out of my league and, although I had been to restaurants in the city with Mom, this was something else. Yet somehow Leon's presence, and the respect which he was given by the workers there, helped me to overcome my shyness and a few tactful questions and comments from the barman, bringing me into their conversation soon had me feeling more relaxed and comfortable. I began to enjoy myself.

We hadn't been sitting there for very long - about 15 minutes I guess - when a tall black guy in full evening dress came up to Leon. "Your table is ready, Sir," he said quietly. "If you care to come this way." We slid off our bar stools and followed him, Leon again taking my arm. He led us through the lobby and into an elevator that carried us up swiftly and silently to the top floor of the building. From the elevator we went through another richly carved door into a small but intimate restaurant. There were only six tables in all, each covered by snowy white table cloths and each with a full compliment of shining silver and glass, surrounding a pocket handkerchief dance floor. A small trio of musicians played quiet music while two couples enjoyed a leisurely waltz.. He led us to a table placed in an alcove overlooking the rest of the room and which had a view out across the lake that any painter of any degree of skill would have been unable to resist.

The maitre'd held my chair for me and we settled into the comfortable seats. We were not the only people dining that evening for already three of the other tables were occupied with older couples. Some of them I recognized from seeing them in the bar earlier and as we passed through the room to our table they had acknowledged Leon, the men with a bow or a wave of the hand, the ladies giving him a smile. Again I was impressed by this. He was obviously used to this sort of acknowledgement and returned the greetings with a smile and a simple "Good evening."

I was dying to ask Leon why he was so well respected but o course I didn't want to appear brash. I think he sensed by curiosity because once we were settled he leaned across to me. "Just relax, Wendy," he said softly. "In case you are wondering, this is one of the clubs my Uncle George owns. We are his guests for the evening and he will probably join us later on." Now it all made some sort of sense. Mom had told me of George and how he was one of the richest black guys in Vegas with fingers in a lot of pies. She'd told me of his interest in at least three casinos and his ownership of several clubs. Now, as the partner of his only nephew, I was being treated as an honored guest.

The specially printed menu was presented and I noticed that mine had no prices shown against the various dishes. Most of the dishes were unfamiliar to me, and with the names of the dishes in French. "You choose anything you want," Leon said. I was lost, for my command of French is limited to a few words and phrases I'd picked up from different sources and I was glad of the English description given under each title. I decided to take the easy way out. "Why don't you choose for me," I whispered. Leon and the maitre'd went into a whispered conversation and eventually the menu for the meal was decided.

While the meal was being prepared Leon asked me if I would care to dance. Luckily I enjoy dancing and Mom had enrolled me in a dance studio for my birthday the year before. It was the sort of studio where the emphasis was on what Mom described as 'Social grooming,' the idea being to supply young ladies in particular with the social skills that would enable them to feel comfortable in more exalted society. This included tuition in ballroom dancing and so I had few qualms about accepting Leon's invitation. We circled the floor for several minutes, dancing to one of my favorite tunes, the Aker Bilk classic 'Stranger on the Shore,' before returning to our table. As we did so there was a polite smattering of applause from the other dancers. I felt wonderful.

I am not going to go into all the details of our meal other than to say it was a delightful meal in delightful surroundings, with a delightful partner. We started off with a fresh fruit cocktail followed by a simple grilled fish dish. The main course was a veal steak with a selection of fresh vegetables and was followed by fresh strawberries smothered in thick clotted cream. I was glad that the meal proceeded at a slow pace, with fairly long gaps between courses. It gave me time to digest one course before the next was presented. I drank a little of a very pleasant chilled white wine with my meal but Leon insisted on me having a glass of French champagne with the dessert.

We were half way through the meal when Leon's Uncle joined us. Uncle George is a big man - a very big man, yet I doubt that there is an ounce of excess fat on him. Like his nephew he has the build of a successful athlete, and I found out later that in his younger days he played semi-professional football for his college. He was immaculately dressed in a white tuxedo and perfectly creased black evening trousers. His crisp white lace trimmed shirt was set off beautifully by his neat red bow tie and the red rose in his lapel.

"So this is Wendy," he said, Leon introduced us formally, and his Uncle smiled at me as we shook hands. It was a smile I was to come to know well in the days that followed - a smile that took in my appearance from the top of my head to the soles of my shoes and it was obvious that he liked what he saw. "My dear, you look absolutely stunning," he said slipping easily into the third chair which the maitre'd had hurriedly put to our table. I thanked him for the compliment but he brushed it aside. "There is no need to thank me for telling you what is so patently true," he said.

For a moment he chatted with Leon and I gathered he was making sure that the arrangements for the rest of the evening were satisfactory. At the same time his eyes kept glancing over to me, and I felt that he was imagining what I would look like without my clothes on. (We girls can sense that in the way some men look at us, can't we?) Somehow it didn't bother me as it otherwise might have done - perhaps it was the wine I had drunk, or the ethos of the restaurant itself, but I found myself appreciating his scrutiny. I knew I was looking good, and I was pleased to know that this man also appreciated me too. It stroked my ego quite considerably to know I was as attractive to the uncle as I was to the nephew.

George didn't stay for long, pleading pressure of business for his leaving us. "Now make sure that this young lady enjoys the rest of the evening," he said to Leon, at the same time taking my hand and kissing it gently - the gesture of a true gallant. "I shall be away all night so you have the full run of the house undisturbed. But before that, enjoy the show. You know you have the use of my private box, don't you?" Leon nodded. "Thank you," he said. "So we will see you in the morning?" It was a question rather than a statement and I noticed that he said "We" and not just 'I." So he was expecting me to stay the night. "Not too early," George replied. "I shall be late to my bed tonight so it will be mid morning before I get home. You can sleep in as long as you like." With that, and another smile at me, George left us to finish our meal.

It was well into the evening before we eventually came to the end of what was the most perfect meal I had ever enjoyed. Finally pushing our chairs back, Leon took my arm and we left the restaurant, the maitre'd escorting to the elevator. Leon thanked him for the meal and the unobtrusive but excellent service we had enjoyed and, getting into the elevator, we started to descend.

I was rather surprised when, instead of stopping at the ground floor, the elevator continued downwards eventually stopping at what the indicator said was 'Auditorium.'

"I thought we were going to a theatre," I said. Leon laughed. "We are, but this is a very exclusive theatre and the show we are going to see is just a little different from your Broadway shows." Getting out of the elevator I found myself in what was obviously a theatre foyer with doors leading to the auditorium opening off it. There were a few people around making their way through into the theatre itself but Leon took me through a doorway marked 'Private' and up the stairs to the owner's private viewing suite.

This consisted of a glass screened box furnished with very comfortable chairs and small couches and looking out and down on to the auditorium itself. From what I could see there were three banks of seats arranged on three sides of the stage which was what is known technically as an apron or peninsula stage so the audience would be able to view the performance as they were sat on both the sides as well as the normal front position. The curtains were closed and soft music was being relayed over the hidden speakers. I found out later that the theatre seated a mere 100 people and most of the seats were already occupied. I was intrigued to see that the audience consisted mainly of black men, with very few women, other than a few young ones who seemed to be acting as hostesses to some of the more obviously wealthy men.

There was a small bar at the back of the box and Leon asked me if I would like a drink. I had had quite enough to drink with my meal I felt, so I declined his offer, concentrating instead on the surroundings I found myself in. Apart from the stage itself, which was really quite small - or so it seemed with the curtains closed - the theatre looked to be very professional in its equipment and furnishings. In front of each bank of seats, but above eye level, were large screens on which, I presumed, the action on the stage could be viewed by those unfortunate enough to be seated the rear seats. The stage lighting was dim with just low lighting illuminating the curtains although the house lights were fully up.

Leon looked at his watch. "We are just in time," he said. "The show will start in two minutes." He was right, for very shortly afterwards the house lights dimmed and the stage lights came up. The music changed its tempo and I recognized the music to be very similar to the music from the hit show 'Riverdance.' Slowly the curtains rose to reveal the stage itself. It was bigger and deeper than I had thought and the set was a simply designed setting with mainly black velvet curtains as a back drop and a gently curving stairway in the centre at the back. There was a rustle of anticipation from the audience as the back curtains at the top of the staircase opened and the first of the performers came on.

She was dressed in a very simple outfit - a short skirt and a halter top both in some glitzy material that showed off her long, shapely legs and was molded to her upper body, emphasizing her small but well shaped breasts. She was followed by five other dancers, each dressed in an identical costume. They all seemed young to me, probably only a little older than myself, as they formed up into a chorus line. The choreography was simple, based on the Riverdance style with the girls keeping their upper bodies still, their hands by their sides and their feet twinkling in the elaborate steps of the traditional Irish dancers.

As the music quickened the girls were joined on stage by six guys, again relatively young - I would say somewhere about Leon's age. As the routine progressed the movements became more exuberant and high kicks from the girls produced spontaneous applause and some ribald comments from the audience. At first I was puzzled at this, but then, as the girls performed one particularly high kick, I realized what was different. None of them was wearing any panties and their naked cunnies were fully visible each time they raised their legs.

I looked at Leon and found him smiling at me. "They've no panties on," I whispered to him. "They're not supposed to have," he said. "But you've not seen anything yet." He was right for a moment later the young men, each behind his partner, suddenly whipped the girls' tops off, exposing their naked breasts for the audience to admire. The dance continued at a slightly less frenetic pace, the guys embracing the girls from behind, fondling their tits and caressing their semi naked bodies very suggestively. The audience was showing their enthusiasm by unrestrained applause along with increasingly loud and lewd comments.

As the dance reached its climax the boys did what the audience was both demanding and expecting, ripping the girls skirts away so that for the last sixty seconds or so remaining, they were totally naked, except for their high heeled shoes. As the dance ended the girls exited the stage, but not the way they had come on, but through the gangways between the banks of seats, spotlights from above the stage following each of them as they made their way out of the auditorium. As they did so hands reached out to touch them and several of them paused en route to allow the groping hands to touch their private parts or to fondle their tits. One girl in particular was literally dragged on to the lap of one elderly character who spent the next few seconds mauling her supine body. She did not resist him and seemed to be enjoying his attention before she scrambled to her feet and fled after her colleagues.

The whole performance had me gasping. I had never expected anything remotely like that and I must admit I found myself excited by what I had witnessed. The thought of those young, white girls being stripped naked in front of an audience of black men really turned me on, but I was even more amazed by what followed.

There was a short gap of a minute or two before the curtains at the back of the stage opened again to reveal three figures in the semi-darkness at the head of the steps. The music faded away to be replaced by the voice of the announcer. "Good evening Gentlemen," he said, his voice magnified by the audio system, although he remained invisible. "It is Club Georgio's pleasure to present for your entertainment this evening one of our young stars, Miss Alison. For those of you interested in such things, Alison is 9 years of age and a student at one of our local schools. She is keen to follow a career in show business and tonight is only the second time she has graced our stage. Her attendants are well known to our regular patrons, Shannon on her left and Alysia on her right. We know that you will make them all welcome."

As he spoke the trio moved to the front of the stage and into the lights. Alison was dressed in a simple school-girlish party frock with short white sox and black 'sensible' shoes but it was her attendants who caught my eye most. They were identically dressed - if that is the right word, for both of them were stark naked except for a skimpy black g-string. Their breasts were firm and full with their nipples each sporting a tiny gold nipple ring. Their navels were decorated with what could have been diamond studs that glittered in the light. Their feet were encased in impossibly high heels so that they towered over their young charge.

The music changed to a muted drum solo and as it began to accelerate towards a climax the two attendants began to undress Alison. Her dress was slowly removed to reveal her white cotton vest and white cotton 'schoolgirl' knickers or briefs. Her chest was flat, with just a suggestion of breasts that were in reality little more than 'puffy nipples.' poking through the cotton of her vest. The audience was again showing their enthusiasm and there were yells from some addressed to the attendants to "Show us her cunt," and similar requests.

Shannon and Alysia fielded these 'requests' by slowing down the process of stripping Alison naked, teasing the guys in the audience by starting to remove more of her clothing then changing their minds after giving just a glimpse of what lay beneath. This of course could not continue for ever though and very soon Alison's vest was removed and tossed out into the audience where a minor riot broke out as guys tried to grab it for themselves. Then her shoes and sox were removed before finally her white cotton knickers were pulled down and taken off to leave her totally naked. Again there was a scramble for her panties as they too were thrown out into the audience.

Throughout all this Alison stood there unresisting and smiling at the audience as bit my bit her young body was revealed in all its youthful beauty. When she was totally naked Shannon turned her round and bent her forward displaying her cute little backside to the clamoring mob in the front seats. Alysia held the little girl while Shannon spread her butt cheeks, displaying her puckered anus to the audience. Having done so she then took a long, pliant whip from someone in the wings and coming back to centre stage had Alysia bend Alison over, offering her naked ass once more to the audience. Shannon teased the audience for a moment or two, gently stroking Alison's naked buttocks with the whip then, without any warning, bringing it down hard on the young girl's vulnerable flesh. Immediately a red welt appeared on her creamy white skin and an agonizing scream burst from her lips. Shannon smiled wickedly and again stroked her ass with the cane. Three more strokes were applied in quick succession leaving the little girl sobbing and with four red stripes across her cute young ass.

I looked at Leon as we watched this happening and I saw a gleam in his eye that told me this was what he enjoyed. I wondered if he was anticipating doing something similar to me when we finally got back to his place. There would be no one to stop him if he decided to brutalize me in such a way. Yet somehow I wasn't afraid. Seeing this young girl being slowly and teasingly stripped naked and then beaten had excited me - I don't know why it should, but it did. If Leon had decided to fuck me there and then I would not have tried to stop him even though we would have been in full view of anyone looking towards our private box.

Meanwhile on the stage Shannon and Alysia had brought young Alison down on to the front apron where her young body was only a few feet away from the guys sitting in the front seats. Hands reached up to touch her but Shannon struck them away with her whip. "You can look, but for the moment you can't touch," she admonished them. The PA system came to life again and the announcer called for quiet. Alysia went off stage and returned immediately, carrying a crystal vase in which were a number of small balls, each numbered. She offered the vase to Alison who, her tears now dried, reached in and took one.

"Will the owner of ticket number 37 come to the stage," she said. A middle aged man rose from somewhere towards the back of the theatre and made his way down to the stage. He was ushered to one side and the next number was called, Alison again picking the balls out of the vase. In fairly short time six men were standing in line on the stage, each facing the audience. Shannon took Alison up to the first of the men and she knelt in front of him. Reaching up the little girl fumbled with the zipper of the guy's pants, finally opening it. She also undid his belt and tugging at his pants drew them down to his ankles. His boxer shorts followed, allowing his cock to stand hard and erect and free. Taking hold of his cock Alison proceeded to lick it as though it was her favorite lollipop before opening her mouth and taking his rigid member into it.

She was obviously something of an expert cock sucker even at that tender age and it was only a few moments before she had him shooting his cum over her face and hair. This continued with four of the remaining five guys, each managing to last only a few minutes before climaxing and splattering their jism over their young tormentor's naked body. That left the last one standing there alone. Leaving the stage for a second or two Alysia came back with a small wheeled contraption that was essentially a sloping bench set at about knee high to a grown man. Shannon lifted Alison into position on it, laying her on her back and spreading her legs wide.

"Do you want her strapped down?" she asked the guy "No," he replied, his voice hoarse with his suppressed lust. "Leave her free. I guess I can handle her."

Alysia helped him remove his pants and underwear and he stripped his own shirt off to reveal an over weight body well past its prime. There was nothing wrong with his cock though and at a rough estimate it would be about 8 inches long and quite thick. He had been circumcised and the purple helmet at the head of his cock was glistening in the stage lighting. He moved into position between the little girl's legs and I realized that he was about to fuck her. A grown man with a more than adequate cock was going to enter this young, innocent girl's cunt and, presumably, eject his sperm deep inside her.

I turned to Leon who gave me a reassuring grin. "It's OK, she's no virgin and she's done this several times before," he said. Somehow the fact that this little girl had at some time previously had a man's cock thrust up inside her, penetrating her hymen and taking away the last shreds of her innocence, took away my concern for her and I found myself wanting to see it happen again. I knew my cunt juices were leaking and I just hoped that they would not soak through my panties and stain my lovely dress.

On the stage the inevitable was happening as the guy put his cock into the little girl's tight young cunt. She wriggled a bit but made no attempt to stop him as he drove it deeper inside her. Once well in he began a rhythmic pumping, each thrust taking his cock deeper inside Alison's tender cunt until his cock was buried up to the hilt inside her. His thrusting became more and more urgent and as he approached his climax Alison lifted her legs and locked them around his body, holding him deep inside her.

The large monitor screens facing the audience were showing very clear and explicitly detailed views of what was happening between Alison's legs, giving everyone in the audience a close up view. As he reached towards his climax the yells and cries from the audience increased in volume and also in their lewdness and I must admit I felt like yelling encouragement to him myself. A glance at Leon told me he was also rapt in what was happening on stage and I could see his cock was training against the tight fabric of his dress pants. I wanted to reach over and free it for him but as I made a tentative move to do so he held my hand away. "Not yet," he whispered. "There's a lot more to come yet."

As he said that the guy ejaculated, but he made no attempt to draw out of the young girl's body. Only by the expression on his face and the shuddering that passed through his body was it obvious that he was cumming deep inside her. When he finally did withdraw his cock was rapidly turning flaccid. It was coated with a mixture of his sperm, her cunt juices and also traces of blood. He took it in his hands and offered it to Alison's mouth. Obediently she began to clean it, licking it slowly from base to tip and swallowing the mucus herself. By the time she had finished cleaning him up he was getting hard again but Shannon stepped in at that point. "That's enough for now," she said and handing him his discarded clothing he was ushered off stage.

Meanwhile Alison was lifted to her feet and brought down to the centre front of the stage. The announcer's voice came over again. "Gentlemen, let us show our appreciation of Miss Alison's performance tonight in the usual Club Georgio's way." There was a burst of enthusiastic applause and members of the audience began what appeared to be a custom of the house, throwing coins and folded bank notes on to the stage where Alison and her attendants collected them. As the applause continued the stage lights began to dim and the curtain came down. The applause continued until Alison, now wearing a short robe, came through the curtains to take a bow.

She was called back three times in all, the final time, as she stood there enjoying the acclamation, she deliberately slipped the robe off, giving the audience a last look at her naked body, even turning round to show her ass, the four red marks from her whipping still visible across those cute nine-year old buttocks. After that the stage lights went out and the house lights came up. "Gentlemen, there will now be a short interval of fifteen minutes, during which you are invited to make use of the toilets and patronize the bar. We will resume in fifteen minutes from now, so if you don't want to miss any of the next part of tonight's show, please be seated in good time."

There was something of a scramble as the guys made for the toilets and the bar. Leon looked across at me. "Well, Wendy. What did you think of that performance?" I didn't quite know what to say but when he got up from his seat and came to stand behind me I didn't resist when he slipped his hands down inside the top of my dress and began to fondle my breasts at first outside, then inside my bra. I leaned back, allowing him to have more freedom of movement as he reached further into my dress, caressing my bare flesh beneath my bra line at both the front and the back. I wanted him to go further, but he didn't. "We have to keep something for later on," he said, giving me a wicked grin. "And I prefer to make love to this beautiful body of yours in private and not in front of an audience like this."

As the interval proceeded a waiter brought a tray into the box with a selection of small but very tempting pastries and confections, each of them proving irresistible. I must admit although I had fed more than adequately before the show, now I was hungry again - hungry for these tempting sweetmeats - and hungry for something else too. Something that I knew would happen much later that evening when Leon and I were finally alone together.

How we got to that point, and what happened in the second half of that show, as well as afterwards back at Leon's house, I will describe for you in my next letter.

I do hope you are enjoying my story. Don't be afraid to e-mail me and let me know what you think of it so far. You have my e-mail address at the top of this letter. I look forward to hearing from you.

Until next time, Love to you all,

Wendy. XXXXX

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