Collette the Virgin is brought to a BDSM club.

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“I go to parties, and I get paid. Wanna come?" Mia Hernandez, my friend from church asked. She was a curvaceous Latina with a body for sin and a smirk that let you know she enjoyed it.

I wondered, "Why would anyone pay you to go to a party?"

"My boss wants the party to look really packed, for some out-of-town guests. They like to have pretty girls around to dance and chat them up, make them feel like big shots. They hired me because I know how to have a good time," she grinned, "Do you?"

Did I? I was a 19-year-old virgin raised in a tiny town with nothing to do. I shrugged, "Uh, sure?"

She laughed, "I'll show you, don't worry. Come over Saturday at 7, we'll pregame."
The next Saturday night rolled around, and I met Mia at her apartment. Hardwood floors, crown molding, Ethan Allen furniture, copper pots hung on a rack over the sink. It was closer to a model home than the apartment of a 23-year-old. I glanced around, "Wow, club promotions pay well."

"What is it that you've been doing?" she looked me over.

"Bussing tables at the country club, why are you looking at me like that?"

She hesitated, "There's was no way you're going to the party dressed like a little girl. It'll send the wrong message." Evidently, my Hello Kitty tee, jeans, and black sandals were not going to cut it with her bosses. We went through her closet and eventually settled on a stretchy purple dress I initially mistook for a t-shirt. The material made panty lines look weird, so I took them off.

She curled my hair into loose copper waves that framed my face. Then, she did my make-up; red lips and black eyeliner around my olive eyes. I saw myself in the mirror, but it wasn’t me. The red lipstick made my paleness so much whiter. I was a fancy impersonation of myself. Mia said I looked fuckable and that was the goal. She poured me a margarita and said I should pick a name for the night. I licked the salt on the rim, took a gulp, and brilliantly responded, “Huh?”

“Pick a name for the night. It’s fun, and that way no one knows who you are. You’ll be the fuckable mystery woman. And don’t gulp your drink; it’s not ladylike. You want them to think you have some class, right?” She daintily sipped her drink to illustrate.

I giggled at the thought of doing anything ladylike. “Ok, sure, a name...” I thought of the most ridiculous girly names I could imagine. “How about Ginger or Kitty or Bambi?”

“Yes! Bambi, it is a pleasure to meet you!” she laughed, too. I stood and did my best imitation of a curtsy, and Mia cackled so hard she couldn’t breathe.

“It wasn’t that bad,” I objected in mock offense.

“Oh my God, YES it was!” For the next hour or so, I got lessons on sitting without flashing my goodies, how to daintily laugh in public, and how to pose in a room. The last one was the trickiest; you had to make sure your back wasn’t to any available person you wanted unless you were bent over to let them check out your ass.

At 11, we pulled up to a mansion on the outskirts of town. Mia slid her black Audi TT past the driveway fountain and into a spot behind a blue Porsche 911 in the valet line. I’d never been to a party with valet parking. (Hell, I’d never been to a restaurant with valet parking.) The outside of the mansion was lit up with floodlights strategically placed around trimmed trees. The place reminded me of a Tuscan villa: off-white with vines up the sides, a Spanish tile roof, and lots of tropical flowers everywhere. I imagined it’d be so much prettier in the daylight.

A well-built man got out of the Porsche. He looked back at her Audi and smiled, as he handed his keys to the valet. He walked like a jungle cat to the mansion's entry. There was something unnerving about him. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I was pretty sure I wanted him to put his finger on it.

As we walked in and the music became louder, Mia leaned over and told me to stand up straight, keep my borrowed black clutch in my hand not under my arm, and if anything went sideways, there was a fixit kit in the clutch, so never lose track of it. I must have given her quite a look, because then she said, “And whatever you do, do NOT make that face for the rest of the night.”

“Mia, hello! Who is your friend?” A stunningly beautiful woman greeted us. She had chocolate brown waves hair pinned up like a Botticelli painting and wore a long ivory beaded gown. It was somehow both ornate and understated, like the mansion.

“This is Bambi. Bambi, this is Dalia Grimaldi. She is our gracious hostess for tonight’s festivities.”

“Thank you for having me, Ms. Grimaldi.”

“Dalia, please. And it's my pleasure, make yourselves comfortable. We will be getting started shortly.” She gestured for us to move into the rest of the house. As I tried to manage all the lady goals Mia had laid out for me, I took a glass of champagne from a server and attempted to look sophisticated. But, then, how does one look sophisticated? I pondered this as the champagne tickled my throat.

“Stop thinking so much, you’re making that face again.” Mia quietly corrected me.
“I was trying to-

“Stop trying. Just be here, in the moment. Take it all in.”

“Okay.” So, I took it all in. I was in a ballroom of a mansion. Me. Resplendent, with marble floors and gold-trimmed everything. And me. There were 3 giant chandeliers and servers in tails. It was like I was watching a movie, but I was in it. The guests were beautiful men and women, dressed to the nines, and I had never felt more out of place in my life. “What am I doing here, Mia? I work for these people; I don’t mingle with them.”
“You’re fine, you look amazing, and if they know you, they will have no idea it’s you. Just act like you belong and you’ll be great.”

“Mia, hello!” It was the Porsche guy. He had a deep tan and dark hair with a hint of purple to it. His suit had to have been tailored because it was amazing on him. He had something of a swimmer’s build. But the best part of hi

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Written by cpells
Uploaded October 31, 2020
Notes Collette is tricked into her first trip to Dalia's BDSM club. After watching a virgin have her first experience, Collette is so horny she can't think straight. Thankfully, Simon is there to lend a hand and a toy.
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