tagIncest/TabooThe Fenyx Lounge

The Fenyx Lounge

bySon_of_Battles©

This is my last minute entry for the Literotica Nude Day contest. I was a little late getting to the party and had to write this one a bit quicker than I would have wanted. I hope you enjoy the little jaunt into my perverted mind.

A quick, grateful thank you to my editor, Skye4Life, for editing this on short notice.

This story contains accidental, and intentional incest, as well as exhibitionism.

*

"Do you guys know of any place that's hiring?" I asked as I slid into a bar-stool next to my friends.

"What, did that big promotion fall through?" John asked from beside me as he sipped on his beer.

"Sort of." I sighed, holding up a finger to signal the bartender for a beer. "You remember that blonde chick from my office that I showed you a pic of? Well I fucked her, and the whole thing was caught on surveillance."

"Did you get a copy of it?" Mark asked, leaning forward to see me from the other side of John.

"No," I said flatly, ignoring his usual one-tracked mind. "I got fired."

"You should have asked for a copy," Mark said taking a swig of his beer. "Hello, severance?"

"You know," I said with a snarky tone. "I had more pressing things on my mind, like how I'm going to pay my rent without a job."

"You know what you should do," Mark continued. "get a job over at the Fenyx lounge. They pay dudes big bucks to fuck chicks on a stage."

"That's just a myth," I told him. "People have been whispering that for years."

"No myth bro," he said before lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I've seen it. Two people were on the stage, wearing nothing but these masks, and this dude just went to town on her."

"And how the hell did you get into the Fenyx?" John asked, just as much disbelieving as I. "That place is so exclusive, you have to know somebody who knows somebody, and then you have to have a seven figure bank balance just to apply for membership."

John wasn't exaggerating. The Fenyx was the most exclusive club in town. It was all for stupidly rich socialites, and what went on behind those doors since their founding had been a closely guarded secret. There were rumors of course. Some claimed they had live sex shows, two strangers wearing nothing but masks, paid to fuck for their entertainment. Other rumors said that they were Satan worshipers and conducted secret rituals they didn't want anyone to see. There were many more theories, but the Satan thing was the most believable.

"The owner of my company took me last week," Mark claimed quietly. "I closed a huge account with West Coast Medical that everyone had been gunning for. It was his way of saying thank you."

"So you're saying you went and saw a live sex show at the Fenyx last week, and we're just now hearing about it?" John asked eyeing him. "I call bullshit."

"Me too," I nodded. "Hey John, do you think you could get me a part time gig working at the warehouse or something?" I asked, pulling away from Mark's delusions. "Anything is better than nothing right now."

"It's not bullshit," Mark persisted over me. "I didn't say anything because I knew you fuckers wouldn't believe me. I guess I was right."

"If you told us right away, we still wouldn't have believed you," John said shaking his head.

"In the words of our fallen forefathers, screenshot or it didn't happen," I said, taking a long pull from my beer.

"Fuck you, cock gobblers," Mark shot, looking offended. "I would have taken pictures, but they don't let people bring in their phones."

"A likely story," John continued, screwing with Mark even further.

"I'm with John, buddy. Besides, how would they even find people to do that?" I asked skeptically. "Just post an add in the paper? Craigslist? You know, 'Looking for desperate people to fuck on stage? Fatties need not apply?'" I asked, unable to control my laughter towards the end.

"They have a job posting on their website. It's all vague and shit, something about performers, or entertainers..." he countered, ineffectively.

"Whatever, losers," I said pounding the last of my beer. "I'm out. I gotta help Krista move the rest of her shit before it gets too late.

"You just got here!" Mark exclaimed.

"I could only stay for one drink," I said.

"You are so whipped, and you're not even getting any," Mark ribbed, trying to gain back some of his dignity.

"That's my sister dude, gross," I said standing and pulling some cash from my wallet and tossing it on the bar.

"The only thing that's gross, are the things I would do for just the chance with her," Mark said wishfully. "Now that she's left that douche-bag, do you think you could put in a good word for me?"

"Not gonna happen," I said turning to walk towards the exit. "Let me know if you find something for me John."

"Will do buddy," he said while Mark continued over him.

"Come on man, it doesn't even have to be a good word," he shouted after me. "Any word! So long as you reminder her that I exist."

"You do realize how pathetic you sound...right?" I heard John say to him just as I stepped outside.

This wasn't anything new. Growing up, all of my friends tried to get me to hook them up with Krista. She was very pretty I guess, but there was just something I was missing with her being my sister and all.

Fishing my keys from my pocket, I climbed into my truck and drove to the other side of town where Krista's old place was. The whole ride I thought about how I was going to pay my rent without a job. I hadn't exactly been sensible with my finances over the last two years.

I'd gotten an amazing job as a claims adjuster for an insurance company a couple years out of high school, and it paid extremely well. Having all of that money coming in, I got my self a nice apartment downtown, and bought a brand new truck. It had been easy to pay for them, and have fun whenever I wanted. Now that my job was gone, and with no savings, I was left in a difficult spot. I didn't even have the safety-net of my parents basement anymore since they decided to retire to Florida last year.

As I pulled up in front of a nice little house in the suburbs, I shook those thoughts out of my head. Everything will be fine, I thought to myself. I put on a tough face, walked up the path, and knocked on the door.

"Hey Kris," I said as my sister opened the door for me.

"Hey Sean," she said, her usual warming smile nowhere to be found.

She looked tired, and her eyes had a hint of redness, more obvious from her lack of makeup. Her long honey blonde hair was in a pony tail, and she was dressed down in a pair of faded, cut-off shorts, and a somewhat transparent tank top with a pink and black sports bra peeking out. It was unusual seeing her not all done up.

After they'd gotten married, Chad convinced her to quit her job. He made enough money for the both of them, and was actually being a real gentleman. Kris had taken that free time and put it all into making a home for them, and making sure that she looked her very best in every way. Nails, hair, and makeup always done, wearing a perfectly coordinated outfit that showed off the body she worked so hard to maintain. It had been a long time since I'd seen her at anything less than her absolute best.

"Is he here?" I asked.

"No, he's at her house right now," she said, turning sideways to let me in. "I think he's avoiding you just in case you decide to kick his face in."

"I would say he's a smart man, but he cheated on you," I said, surveying the clutter of boxes spread out across the living room. "We're definitely not working with the mind of a genius here."

"Thanks," she muttered. "Most of my stuff is just in here," she gestured. "All of these boxes, that lamp, and the sofa. The bed is mine too, but I've already bought a new one. There's no way I'm sleeping in that again."

It wasn't an overly large amount of stuff to move, but with my truck, it was easily a full load. I hated helping people move, especially since I was the only one of my friends with a truck. I was constantly being asked to help move sofas, or the entire contents of peoples apartments. This was my sister though, and it wasn't like I had a busy schedule right now.

"Alright," I sighed, "let's get to it."

It took the better part of three hours to load up all of her things, and drive it across town. It was rather depressing. She hardly spoke a word the entire time that didn't include instructions. Even on the drive to her new apartment she was uncharacteristically quiet. The only thing that could be called a high point was when I convinced her to take the mattress. It was hers, just because she didn't want it didn't mean it should be his gain. Half way between her old place and her new apartment, we stopped and chucked it into a filthy ally. Enjoy sleeping on a box spring, asshole.

I understood her withdrawn state. She had been dating Chad since her freshman year. They'd been high school sweethearts, and we'd all been sure they would be together forever. Sure, they had their on and off moments, but as far as I saw recently, they had been solid. A little over a year ago they had even made it official, and gotten married. That was all over now.

I didn't get a full accounting of all the details, but from what I gathered, he had been cheating on her off and on with the same girl. Someone we knew from school, and who used to be good friends with Krista.

Seeing her look so beaten down like this was frustrating. I didn't really know what to say to make her feel better either. I'm a guy. If it was Mark or John who'd just had a bad break up, I would've taken them to the strip club or a bar and tried to get them laid. What was I supposed to do for my sister though?

It was around nine o'clock when we got all of her things upstairs into her new apartment, and with all the heavy lifting finished I felt awkward and out of place.

"I think I'll take off and let you get this all sorted," I said looking around, anxious to get away from the depression permeating the air.

"Nonsense, you helped me move, the least I can do is feed you, and get you something to drink," She offered, giving me a forced smile. "How does pizza and beer sound."

"Like the go to payment for anyone who has ever asked someone to help them move?" I quipped.

"Good!" she replied, her smile growing by a hair.

Forced or not, it was the first smile I had seen on her in days. It made it hard to just walk out on her. So I stuck around and shared some pizza and beer. It was still painfully quiet while we waited for our food to arrive, but once we got through our first couple of beers, Kris was talking again, and almost enough for the both of us.

"...and she thought that perm was a good idea," She gave a light laugh. "Who gets a perm on purpose anymore? It's not the eighties!"

"Yeah," I agreed, only listening with half an ear. I couldn't help but let her girl gossip wash over me while my own problems fought for my priority brain power.

Krista was quite for a moment, twisting her beer bottle nervously before opening her mouth again. "I hate to ask, but is there any way you could loan me some money?" she asked, looking pained that she even needed to ask. "I would totally pay you back, just as soon as I start working again."

I sighed heavily, feeling lousy, "If you need groceries or anything like that, I could loan you a few bucks, I don't want you to starve, but that's all I can manage right now. I wish I could help more, but I sort of lost my job today."

"What? What happened?" she frowned, sitting up. "I thought you were supposed to be getting a promotion."

"I...did something I shouldn't have," I said, not wanting to tell her what really happened. "I'm really sorry, Kris."

"It's alright. It'll be really tight, but I think I can manage," she fought a grimace from her face. "You did something you shouldn't have? That's rather vague," she said, looking curious as to what I might be hiding. "What could you have done that you wouldn't tell me?"

"You know, if you're really hard up for money, you can always get a job at the Fenyx Lounge," I said jokingly to change the subject. "Mark says that they pay big bucks for performers."

"Mark would," she scoffed. "Everyone whispers about that crap. He's the one to believe them."

"He said he's seen it," I said, glad that I had successfully diverted her from the reason for my joblessness. "Last week. Said his boss took him."

"Whether what they say is real or not, I'm not that desperate," she gave a forced laugh before adding wryly, "Thanks for offering your sister a chance to prostitute herself though!"

"I didn't mean it for real," I apologized. "That place's just been on my mind since Mark said something earlier."

"Been on your mind huh?" she asked, looking at me skeptically. "Thinking about giving it a go? Little bro is going to venture into porn?"

"Hell no," I said. "I'm not that desperate either. I still have like three weeks until my rent is due, and once I get a new job I'll be fine. Besides, I still think Mark's full of shit."

"I can't believe you're friends with that guy," Kris said shaking her head. "He used to offer girls mustache rides when we were in high school," she said shivering.

"Oh," I said, "Speaking of Mark, he wanted me to put in a good word for him, you know, since you and Chad are done."

"Are you going to?" she asked, leaning forward to pluck another slice of pizza from the open box on the coffee table.

"For Mark?" I laughed. "Hell no!"

*** *** ***

By the time the pizza was gone, so was the beer. It was way past late when we finally shut it down, and I ended up passing out on her couch rather than risk driving home. After seeing Krista laughing and smiling while we talked, I realized toughing it out for her was worth it to help her feel better, even if it just was for a few hours. When I finally woke up, there was a note on the coffee table, telling me that she gotten an early start on her job hunt, and to lock up on my way out.

When I got back to my own place I decided to begin my own job hunt. I had to start sometime, and the sooner the better. I'd rented this apartment when I was flush with income from a good paying job, now I was wishing I had been better at saving my money, as apposed to spending it just as fast as it came in.

I posted my resume to a bunch of sites online, and applied to over a dozen places around town, but after a week, I hadn't heard from anyone and I was beginning to worry. I had rent coming up, and my car payment was already past due.

I had been sitting at my computer for four hours straight one afternoon, refreshing my email over and over, like some kid with his first MySpace account, when I found myself navigating over to the Fenyx Lounge web page. Sure enough, Mark was right on at least one point. They had a running ad looking for new talent to perform live on Saturday nights. Curious, I clicked on the link, and I was brought to an application form.

The form was pretty straight forward. It asked for sex, height, weight, email address, and then there was a place to upload a photo of yourself.

It seemed rather innocent. Nothing mentioning sex at all. The only suspicious thing was the complete lack of details regarding what kind of performers they were looking for, as well as there not even being a field for a name. Curiosity still tickling me, I filled it out and hit submit. What could it hurt, right?

Less than two hours later I heard the chime from my email alert. Thinking I was finally getting a response to my resume, I rushed over to check it. It wasn't. It was an email from the Fenyx, asking if I would come in for an interview. Not exactly the job interview I was hoping for.

I knew I could have used the money, but I didn't even know for sure what I would be performing. If Mark was telling the truth, could I really go and have sex with a complete stranger for the entertainment of others? I wasn't a bad looking guy, and my cock was nothing to be ashamed about. It wasn't that I was super shy or anything, but I just believed that sex was more of a private affair. Funny right, coming from the guy with his own surveillance camera sex tape. Unsure, I closed the email and decided to call it a night.

I left the message in my inbox for two days before finally responding. I still hadn't received any results on my other job posts, and despite what I'd told Krista, I was feeling a little desperate. I needed the money, and it was time to suck it up. I replied back, and in short order a time was set for me to interview the following day.

*** *** ***

The Fenyx Lounge was located just outside of the bustling downtown, only a short mile away from the towering skyscrapers. It was a fairly large stand-alone building made of old red brick and steel with the windows blacked out. The only thing signaling that this was the right place was the large stainless steel cut-out of a bird of fire situated on the wall above the large double doors. At night, orange lights from behind it would glow and undulate, making it come to life.

I fidgeted with my phone as I stood outside the doors waiting. The parking lot was barren this time of day, the doors locked up tight, and I was just thinking that the person I was supposed to meet had forgotten I was coming, when right at 11am the door opened and there stood a cute, compact little red head in a business suit and heels.

"Hi, I'm Sean," I told the lady as I reached out to shake her hand.

"Please, keep your name to yourself. It's better that way," she smiled as she shook my hand. "You can call me Cindy. Please follow me, and don't wander."

Just inside the front door was what looked like a series of Post Office Boxes on either wall. Cindy opened one and asked for my phone. After placing it inside, she closed it and pulled a numbered key from the box and handed it to me, explaining their strict policy about cellphones on their premises.

Without another word, she turned on her heel and lead me into the empty club. I felt kind of like I was walking into Area 51. In our city, there was just as much mystery about this place as the other, and it seemed as if I might finally be getting a peek behind the curtain.

It looked exactly as I expected, and at the same time, not. Everything inside looked expensive, but at the same time, ordinary. I had imagined the decor might be a bit perverse, especially back when Satanic Cult was my prevailing theory. Now that I was sure that Mark was telling the truth, I expected something more...sexual...deviant, but there was nothing like that. Dark wooden tables, and chairs with rich velvet cushions sat atop a massive floor of expensive tile, all focused on a stage at the far end that reminded me of an opera theater, complete with a small rounded balcony on either side. There were two bars that I could see, and every bottle on every shelf was the good stuff. It looked like an ordinary night club, but for people that had more money than they knew what to do with.

I tried to take in as much as I could without looking too obvious while I followed Cindy. She lead me straight through the club and to an office around the back of the stage. Once inside, she sat in a chair behind a desk, and gestured toward the space in front of her. There was no chair, so I found myself standing awkwardly as she looked on.

"Before we get started, I'll need you to sign this," she stated, sliding a sheet of paper toward me across the desk. "It's a non disclosure agreement. Basically, it states that neither you, nor the Fenyx lounge, will discus the nature of your employment. In layman's terms, you were never here. We never hired you for any purpose, and you don't know anything that might or might not be happening inside the Fenyx Lounge."

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