EXTRACT FOR
One Night At The Klub Kinque
(Kilogram)

	Allison Morrison brought the car to a halt in a side street, half a block up the avenue from the mansion, and on the other side.  The sign read "No parking from here to corner."  She justified what she did in that she was not parking there.  She merely stopped for a while.

	Two attendants stood on the sidewalk next to the gate checking invitations.  She saw at least two others inside moving back and forth in case someone scaled the fence.  The tuxedos they wore gave them an innocuous look, but she knew they were security.  No guns were in sight, but she was certain all were armed.

	There were other ways in.  There always were other ways in.

	She had just not found one yet.

	She had been there long enough to know the paparazzi had their cars parked around the corner so they were out of sight of the main gate.  As she watched from her car, a patrol car rolled slowly past the front of the estate.  A couple of cars had stopped to gawk at the activity.  The car flashed its lights to get the spectators to move on.  The police car turned right down the side street.

      She put the car into gear and started forward.  She slowed as she drove past the front gate.

      A large hedge blocked the view of the front of the building.  She knew that behind it was an eight-foot high chain link fence with concertina barbed wire along the top.  She knew she could not get in that way.

      She continued along the front of the property, turning right at the side street past the parked cars.  The hedge continued to the back corner of the lot.  She expected it to continue along the street, but at that corner it moved diagonally to a building, while the chain link fence continued along the edge of the property.

      She was unsure at first if that was the main house or a guest house, or simply an oversized garage.  She got the answer to that midway down the block.  The drive could accommodate two large trucks side-by-side.  The dock at the end of the drive told her this was the main house.

      She saw that most of the back of the house also was protected by the fence.  The fence continued to the building.  The gap between the last fence post and the building could not have been more than three or four inches.  The only part that was not blocked by the fence was the area behind the dock.  She nodded to herself as she slowly cruised past.  The dock would be her means of entry to the house.

      She turned left to go down another street that took her away from her objective.  She knew she might be noticed if she drove by the front of the house a second time.  She looped around another block, coming upon the line of cars at a different angle.  She pulled to the curb at the end of the line of cars.  Anyone who say her car would think she was just another of the paparazzi.

      She locked the door and hid the key in a special niche under the left front fender.  She did not want to risk losing the key if she had to beat a hasty retreat.

      She stopped at the corner of the drive.  Hoping the fence would shield her from prying eyes, she leaned forward.  No one seemed to be there, but she could not see if eyes watched her from one of the many windows.

      She started forward at a run.  Well, it was something of a run.  She certainly moved faster than a walk.  In the pumps with the four-in stiletto heel, she could not run.  

      Her target was the set of five steps on the right side of the dock.  She sprinted up the stairs and across the dock toward the double doors leading inside.  She leaned up against the corner of the house to catch her breath.  She immediately fished a pack of cigarettes from her clutch purse and lit up.

	She travelled light.  The purse was her only accessory.  The purse looked expensive, but it was only a cheap knock off.  It would pass all but the closest inspection.  She had a compact and a hairbrush inside. 

	She looked at the cigarette as she exhaled.  Soon she would have to light up another.  This was the worst part of the job for her.  She had smoked in high school, but had given it up.  A beautiful woman smoking a cigarette and acting as though she afraid someone would see her disarmed all suspicions.

	The sound of a door opening told her she would not have to go to a second.  The busboy, waiter, whatever he was, wore a short white jacket.  He dumped a large container into the dumpster.  He did not see her until he turned around to go back inside.  Her presence startled him.

	Allison smiled at him once she had the cigarette out.  She dropped it on the concrete dock and rubbed it out with the toe of her Nine West knock off heels.

	"Don't tell my husband," said.  "He thinks I gave up cigarettes for the New Year."  The evil grin on his face told her he had bought the story.  She moved toward the open door with the fluidity of a cat.  She walked pigeon-toed to give her gait an exaggerated sway.  She was certain he was going to tell everyone about the hot young wife in the slinky red gown he had found out back.  All he would remember was how she wiggled her bottom, not what she looked like.

	Allison moved through the house without hesitation.  Should she encounter anyone, she wanted them to think she belonged there.  Her purposeful steps hid the fact that she had no idea where she was going.

	She found a corridor.  From experience, that was a good sign.  Corridors usually led somewhere though she had discovered one that led to six locked doors.  She did not have that worry this day.  On her right twenty feet ahead, she saw an opening in the wall.  She turned right without knowing what lay in that direction.

	She stepped through it into some sort of entry room with the front door immediately in front of her.  Taking a deep breath, she walked quickly toward the door.  She had covered a quarter of the distance when a little movement and a flash of red drew her attention to the left.

	She almost peed in her panties when she saw the figure there.  It was ??" well, it was a woman, she could tell by the curves.  Her whole body was covered with red rubber.  Only her eyes were visible.  Her hands were bound over her head to a column at the foot of the stairs.  More ropes encircled her lower thighs at the knee and her ankles.

	After a few seconds hesitation, Allison took a few steps in her direction.

	What she saw puzzled her.  The woman did not seem to be struggling to get free.  She had accepted the fact that she was tied up.  She almost seemed ??" to like it.  The, what did they call it?  Bondage.

	She turned toward the front door again but stopped when she saw someone coming toward the door through the glass in it.  She glanced over her shoulder at the rubber-clad woman bound to her left.  She did not want anyone to know that she knew about that woman.

	She continued to turn to the right.  There were two doors from the entry room.  She had entered through one.  She hurried toward the other.

	At her entrance to the room, three men turned toward her.  She recognized one.  He was some type of international banker.  She would love to hear what they talked about, but their little meeting certainly was intended to be private.  She had no means of forcing herself on the group without arousing suspicion.

	They concentrated on her and not on the business at hand.  She felt their eyes on her as she crossed the room toward the French doors leading outside.

	"That door is locked.  You will have to use the door on the right."

	She turned toward them, making her right now her left.  She looked to the right with a puzzled looked on her face.  Between the door and the wall and the wall were a couple of large windows.

	"That door," a man said, pointing to the right.

	She glanced in that direction and saw another door there.  Raising the purse in front of her mouth, she emitted an embarrassed giggle.

	Let them think she was as dumb as a box of rocks.  It would make her job all the more easy.

	She saw people standing around talking a couple dozen feet ahead beyond some bushes.  She walked in their direction.

	Her first objective was to get a drink.  If she had a drink in hand, the others would think she was a guest as they were.

	Once beyond the row of bushes, she looked for a waiter or a bar or something where she could get a drink.

	Many people looked at the far side of the pool.  The people were clustered about the side.

	She stopped and stared as one woman on the other side of the pool began stripping off her blue silk designer gown.  Even at that distance she could tell that rag cost at least two or three thousand.  Once she had the frock off, Allison saw that she wore only black panties and a garter belt to hold up the stockings.  She wore no bra.

	The beautiful brunette's brown eyes opened wide as she saw the two men next to her tie her arms behind her back.  When they finished tying them, they turned their attention to her legs, tying ropes about her lower thighs immediately above the knees, and at her ankles.  At the same time a young woman clad only in her panties and bra pulled an inflatable raft from a tent.  She squatted down to place it in the pool, and held it at the woman's feet.  When they had finished tying her, the men eased her forward at an angle toward the water.  When they let go she landed on the raft.  She bounced up and down.  They pulled the raft back to the edge.

	Allison's eyes grew even wider as the men bent her legs forward.  They tied her legs in that position.

	To the cheers of the onlookers, the men gave the raft a shove.  She floated out into the centre of the pool.

	Allison had no idea what to make of this.  This was far too kinky for anything she had planned.

	She grabbed a drink from a passing waiter.  This would be the perfect accessory to prove she belonged at the party.  She sipped it as she walked across the patio.  

	Once again she stopped to stare and gawk.  To her left about twenty feet away, a young woman stood motionless.  She had something red in her mouth.  At that distance she could not see why.  The woman held a tray upon which rested a pair of empty champagne glasses.  The woman was dressed in a stereotype French Maid's outfit.  As Allison looked closer, she saw the woman held the tray without the use of her hands.  The tray just seemed to hang there at her at her waist.

	This was a phenomenon that demanded further investigation.  She finished her champagne with two large, unladylike gulps.  She approached the woman with her arms extended.  As she stepped closer, she saw that the red thing was held in the woman's mouth by a black strap.  There were straps running from the shoulders to her underarms.

	The corporate spy placed her glass on the tray.  She stared at the woman's eyes that gave no sense of fear or panic at being bound.

	Allison turned to walk back toward the pool.  There were things going on here that she did not understand.  Still, she had a job to do.

	She grabbed a second glass of champagne as she headed for a group of men.  Well, they were mostly men.  The group had one woman in it, but she looked like a man in a green business suit.

	She listened in on that group until the conversation moved from business to sports.  She turned to move on to a second group.  She had just joined them when a woman in a long, black velvet dress tapped her on the upper arm.

	"Mr. Hartke would like to see you in the gazebo."

	"I...I..."

	"You don't know Mr. Hartke?  You should, he is our host today.  If you'll follow me, I'll show you to the gazebo."

	Allison had been caught before.  Usually a guard would discreetly ask her to leave.  Not wishing to make a scene that would draw attention to herself, she would leave.  Never had to the host asked to see her alone, and certainly not in private.

	She nodded her desire to comply and followed the woman along the length of the pool.  She glanced around guiltily, but no one paid her any attention.  A few feet past the far edge of the pool, the woman stopped, turned toward the brunette and pointed.  A brick path led to the gazebo that she could barely make out through the shrubbery.

	She mounted the four steps to the floor of the gazebo.  A man waited inside, staring out the far side.  Without turning he asked, "I believe you are...Allison."

	"How did you know my name?"

	As soon as she blurted that out, she realized that was the wrong thing to say.  She assumed the man knew she was not supposed to be there.  She could have claimed she was a guest of one of the invitees.

	"A couple of months ago you were escorted from the Guilford's soiree.  I managed to call my chauffeur on the cell phone to get him to follow you.  You lost him in just a few blocks, but he managed to get your license plate number.  A little research led me to you.

	"I will confess I was disappointed you did not crash one of my parties sooner.  Why weren't you at the party I held a couple weeks ago?"

	"I had another function."

	"The Campbell's?"

	She nodded.

	"I have a business proposition for you to consider.  Would you like to sit while we discuss it?  I can get something for you to sit on."

	He did not wait for her to answer.  He leaned out the window and waved.

	Two women appeared at the opening less than a minute later.

	"Miss Morrison and I need something to sit on.  Will the two of you accommodate us?"

	"Sure!" they said in unison.

	One woman, wearing a floral sun dress, dropped to her knees in front of the man.  From her knees, she fell forward to all fours.  Hartke stepped around her.  Looking back to judge his target, he sat on the woman.

	The second woman, wearing a red blouse and a black miniskirt, dropped to all fours in front of her.  Allison looked at the back of the woman and shrugged.  Stepping around her, she sat down as gently as she could.

	"I'm sure you are wondering why these two lovely creatures would degrade themselves at my request."

	"The thought has crossed my mind."

	"Look at her neck."  He gestured toward the young woman under her.

	Allison twisted around to look.  The woman's light brown hair hid her neck.  She brushed it away.  A black velvet band passed behind her neck.

	She looked up with a puzzled look on her face.

	"Think of it as a collar, or perhaps a choker."  He paused a second before patting his woman on the head.

	"Tell us why you do it."

	"So I can be rewarded."

	Allison just gave the two of them a blank stare.

	"Explain."

	"You won't let me come if I'm not good."

	He saw the look of scepticism on her face.  He permitted himself a little smile.

	"When a woman comes here wearing a collar, she agrees she will not have sex in her..." he paused for a second to find the proper word that would not offend her.  "In her vagina without the permission of one of the masters or mistresses here."

	"Why not?" the beautiful brunette asked.

	"Simple.  If you no longer have control over the sex act, you will find it much more enjoyable."

	"I don't think so."  She tried to sound indignant but he noticed the slightest hesitation in her voice.

	"But you've never tried it.  Let's get two independent opinions from women who have.  Joani, what do you have to say about it."

	"Multiple orgasms."

	"What?"

	"I always have multiple orgasms."

	"What about you?"  He playfully slapped the other woman on the bottom.

	"I have them too.  And it's fun not knowing who is going to have me."	

	He noticed the brunette's eyes opened wide for a fraction of a second.  Not being able to choose who her sexual partner was distasteful to her.  A blunder.  He hoped it was not a fatal one.

	"I am going ask this next question based on the assumption that you will agree to my proposition, a proposition I have not made yet.  Will one of you agree to help dress Miss Morrison for her share of the afternoon's festivities?"

	"I will."

	"I will."

	"Okay, Joani, you agree a little faster than Helena here.  Both of you get up and we will move to one of the guest bedrooms inside.  Miss Morrison?"

	He stood and extended a hand to help her rise.  The two women immediately came to their feet.  The man motioned toward the opening to the steps.  Allison went first.  Joani and Helena brought up the rear.

	Hartke ignored the calls from a couple men as the small party moved toward the house.  He merely acknowledged their presence with a wave of a hand.  He was with three beautiful women.  They could guess what he was up to.

	Allison turned to the left once they were through the door, certain the stairs lay in that direction.  Hartke touched her on the arm.

	"This way."

	He motioned toward a blank wall.  He took the lead at that point.  Touching a panel on the end of a bookcase, he caused a portion of the wall to slide back, revealing an elevator car.

	Allison started forward, but he stopped her with a touch on the arm.

	"Ladies, will you take you places."

	The two women stepped around them and into the car.  Once inside, they turned, then backed up until they reached the back of the car.  Once in their proper places, they knelt.

	"You're kidding me," she said to him with a slight look of disgust on her face.

	"They know their place.  Shall we?"

	The four rode up the third floor.  Hartke skipped the first two doors.  He opened the third and immediately said, "Excuse me."  He closed the door quickly, but Allison caught a glimpse of a woman spread-eagle at the foot of a four-poster bed while another knelt before her with her head at crotch-level.

	The fourth room was empty.

	"Joani."

	He gestured toward the bed.  The woman pulled her sun dress off over her head, leaving her in only panties.  These too landed on the floor so she was buck naked.  She crawled on to the bed with her head at the top and knees 

	"Helena, will you do the honours?"

	The second woman started to take her skirt off.

	"I think you can do it clothed."

	Allison paced back and forth about the bed to inspect the work the woman did.  At one point when she thought no one paid attention to her, Allison looked in the mahogany wardrobe.  She found no clothes, only ropes, handcuffs, chains, and an assortment of other stuff she did not recognize.

	In twenty minutes, Joani, with some assistance from Hartke, had Helena bound on the bed.  She knelt facing the headboard on all fours.  Ropes ran from her ankles, knees, elbows and wrists under the sides of the bed.  They kept her from pulling her arms and legs together.  Additional ropes between her knees and between her wrists made it impossible for her to move her limbs further apart.

	Ropes between her upper thighs and the bedposts kept her from moving her body forward.  More ropes between her shoulders and the other pair of bedposts made it impossible for her to move her body back.

	She could only remain there on all fours, her bare cunt visible to anyone opening the door.

	"Let's return to the first floor and we'll discuss my proposition."

	He gestured toward the door.  The two women preceded him from the room.  Joani walked down the hall without looking back.  When Allison looked back, she saw he had left the door halfway open.

	When he turned, he saw her stare.

	"That is the signal that anyone who wants her can have her."

	The beautiful brunette looked back down the hall after the other woman.  She wanted to her his proposition before she told him to shove it.

	The room he took her to in the back of the house was his den.  He motioned toward one of the cabinets.  Helena hurried there to get decanter and two glasses.  She placed the glasses on the edge of the desk.  She poured a little into each glass, then placed one glass before each of them.  When she finished, she dropped to her knees beside the desk.

	"What I propose is that you dress up in some frilly frock.  Let me apply a little bondage and place you out in the middle of the party."

	"I don't think so," she said with a little chuckle in her voice.  She was convinced these women were nuts or drunk or both.

	"I will made it worthwhile by placing you in a central location where you can overhear a bunch of conversations ??" that was the reason you came here, isn't it."

	Allison stalled for time by taking a drink.

	"What would I be doing?"

	"You would be holding a tray so other could get rid of their empty glasses.  I will even let you pick the place where you stand."

	"And I can overhear people talking?"

	"Most assuredly.  You would think men and women would have more than enough sense not to discuss private business where others could overhear.  You would think that."

	"And just what would I wear?"

	"Oh, just the standard attire, a French Maid's outfit."

	"And I would be tied up?"

	"Well, not with ropes.  I would use a latex single glove on you.  It makes you helpless without ropes digging you into your flesh.  Are you interested?"

	She took another drink.

	"And am I to be molested while I am helpless?"

	"Oh, no.  It will be exactly as I told you.  You will be tied up.  You will listen."

	"And what do you get out of this?"

	"Besides the lovely spectacle of seeing you bound and helpless?  I am hoping you will come back for more."

	The beautiful brunette stuck her tongue between her lips as thought.

	"And you promise..."

	"And I promise I will let you go if you wish.  Tell her, Helena, is my word good?"

	"Yes, Master."

	She did not like that the kneeling beauty had called him "Master," but perhaps this was her means of getting entry to a whole new set of soirees.

	"Okay.  What do I do?"

	"If you come with us, I will have Helena help you with your outfit."

	He rose, so Allison thought she should too.  Helena was already on her feet so she followed her from the room, with Hartke bringing up the rear.  Their destination was a room two doors down the hall.

	As soon as she was in the room, Helena went to one of the ubiquitous wardrobes.  She opened the door, then paused to look over her shoulder at Allison.

	"Size 5?"

	Allison nodded.

	Helena opened the door and  stood in the opening so Allison was unable to see what was inside.  She guessed a number of garments hung from hangers the way the woman pushed items from the right to the left.

	"Aha!"

	She turned; holding up what Allison was certain was the world's shortest dress.  The dress was black satin, complete with puffy sleeves and white lace along the hem, the cuffs and the neckline.  In front was a dainty white lace apron.

	"Crap!" Allison thought.  "What am I getting myself into?"

	Hartke sat down, similarly ignoring the scene before him.  He pulled a gold case from a desk drawer.  He opened it and selected a cigarillo.  The lighter was on the desk.  He lit up, and sat back.  By then Helena held the mini-dress up against the brunette's front.

	"Do you mind if I watch?"

	He tried to blow a smoke ring.

	"Sure.  Why not," she said with a little smile.  The dress was so small she doubted there was little between wearing it and being naked.

	He sat back in the chair, stretching his legs out before him.

	Allison started to reach behind her back to get at the zipper on the back of her dress, but Helena practically bounced around behind her to get at it.  When the zipper was down, the dress seemed to fall magically from her body, landing at her feet.

	This left her in her high heels and a black thong.

	She swung her hips back and forth as she pushed the panties down.  The micro-garment fell to her feet.

	"Here."

	Helena handed her a pair of black satin panties.  Getting them on proved to require the same hip-shaping movement she used in taking the thong off.

	"I thought you would want the panties first," Helena said with a giggle.

	As Allison pulled the waistband up as far as she could get it to go, Helen retried a bra from a drawer in the wardrobe.  Allison held it up.  She was sure something was wrong about it.  Yeah, it was a bra ??" she was certain about that ??" but there was something wrong with it.  When she raised it in the general direction of her chest, she realized what was wrong.  Most of the cups were missing.  Only the bottom half of each was present.

	"My Dear," said Hartke, "It pushed the breasts together and lifts them up without hiding the nipples."

	The brunette grimaced as she put the bra on.  She had to push her breasts up and together to get the bra on.

	She had not had the largest breasts in the world before, but now they appeared to be huge.

	"Time for the dress!  Put your arms over your head."

	Allison raised her arms in the air.  When Helena told her to raise her arms over her head, she really did not mean that.  She needed them at a 45-degree angle to fit the dress down her arms.

	"Turn around."

	Once she was in position, Helena jerked down on the hem twice.  Raising her hands a few inches, she grabbed the dress at the waist, jerking it back and forth to get it on straight.  She turned the brunette around so the two faced each other.  She made further adjustments to the bodice of the dress.  She finished by pushed up on the woman's breasts.

	"Not bad."

	She looked over at the master of the house who approved with a faint smile and a nod.