A Gift in Disguise Ch. 13

We took the VIP elevator down to the lobby. When we walked from the VIP elevator foyer through the secured door into the lobby, I noticed that it was another person, not Bethany, at the concierge desk to assist anyone entering from outside. We appeared to be the only guests in the lobby.

As soon as we entered the lobby, Risa slipped her arm through mine and edged closer to me. She looked at me and gave me an encouraging and reassuring smile. I felt my cock starting to harden when the warmth of her touch and closeness engulfed me.

We walked to the main dining room doors where Michael, The Club's Manager and maitre'd Michael, greeted us personally by first name. We politely returned his greeting.

There was the usual hum of random conversations among the guests mingling in the room during the social hour.

"Shall we get something to drink?" I asked Risa.

"That would be nice," she answered. Arm-in-arm we walked to one of the three hosted fruit juice bars. The beverages all had descriptive and somewhat exotic names that seemed to describe their contents.

The bartender was a pleasant and attractive young lady. When she saw we were somewhat unfamiliar with the drinks' names, she said, "May I make some suggestions?"

"Please," I answered with a smile.

The bartender made eye contact with Risa, then with me, then said, "May I recommend the strawberry lemon iced tea for the young lady and the peach lemon iced tea for the gentleman?" Her voice was polite but not stuffily formal.

Risa smiled at her and said, "That sounds perfect for me."

The bartender turned to me, still smiling. "And for me, too. Thank you," I said.

As the bartender prepared our beverages, I glanced at the tip jar, an oversized brandy snifter. It had several five dollar bills in it, so while the bartender continued to prepare our drinks, I took two fives out of my wallet.

"There you are," the bartender said as she placed our drinks on the bar. "I hope you like them."

Risa and I each took our drink and sipped them.

"This is really good," Risa said. "The strawberry and lemon flavors go very well together."

"So does the peach," I agreed. I dropped the two fives in the brandy snifter as discreetly as I could.

"Thank you, sir," the bartender said warmly and sincerely. "I hope the two of you enjoy your evening here."

We turned back toward the rest of the people in the dining room.

It may have been my imagination, but the conversational hum seemed to have subsided a bit.

What was definitely not my imagination was that many of the men and women were stealing glances at Risa while they tried to maintain their conversations with each other.

Bethany seemed to appear out of nowhere and approach us. She had changed from her functional but feminine black slacks and sleeved white blouse into a very stylish lace A-line knee length long sleeved round neck cocktail dress. It was attractive but not at all revealing, presumably an effort to avoid upstaging the other women in the room.

"I know it's awkward when you are in a group where you don't really know anyone, so would you mind if I walked with you for awhile and introduced you to some of the members and guests to make it easier for you?"

"Thank you, Bethany. That would be great," Risa answered for us. I smiled and nodded in complete agreement.

For the remainder of the social hour, Bethany was the perfect hostess. Most of the people we met were understandably eager to talk with Risa. Some of them recalled Sharon's introducing me to them when I had been there as her guest before. Bethany made sure that Risa and I met as many of the others as possible.

Promptly at 5:55 p.m. Michael walked to a floor microphone and asked that we proceed to our tables so that dinner could be served.

Bethany walked us to our table and remained with us until the other two couples joined us. She then introduced us to each other. After making the introductions, she said to the three couples at our table, "Now if you all will please excuse me, I need to go prepare for the rest of the evening. I hope you'll all enjoy the dinner and the evening entertainment." With her radiant smile seeming to linger behind, she made a very graceful departure.

In passing, I wondered what she needed to do to prepare for the rest of the evening. Her comment made earlier to me, her hope that Risa and I would turn up the suite lights and stand close to the suite glass while the evening entertainment was being introduced popped back into my mind.

The dinner was excellent, and the conversation at our table among the six of us was interesting, definitely not too intrusive, and with no inappropriate sexual references. The other two gentlemen at our table, George and Roger, were corporate executives from other parts of the country. They and their lady guests, Gerilyn and Lynette who were introduced as George's 'daughter' and Roger's 'niece', were fascinated by Risa's background and the explanation of her advertising business's focus. Both men asked Risa for her business card. Risa proved to be an exceptionally gifted conversationalist, talking as comfortably and at ease with the men as with the women at our table.

The four chimes announced that dinner service was about to end. Michael walked to the microphone again, thanked everyone for attending, and suggested we should return to our rooms. The evening entertainment would begin in twenty minutes.

We arose from our table, and the six of us walked to one of the public passenger elevators. Risa had once again taken my arm, but when I started to walk toward the secured VIP elevator door, she skillfully guided me to the public elevator. The six of us from our table boarded one elevator together. George and Roger and their guests were on floor three, Risa hit the '2' button.

It was close but not uncomfortable with six of us in the elevator car. Risa was on my right. George's 'daughter' Gerilyn, a young woman maybe 22 or 23, was next to me on my left. As our car started upward toward floor two, I felt her hand insert something into my left trousers pocket. As Risa and I stepped out of the elevator car, we wished them goodnight.

The access controlled door to the VIP elevator foyer and the suite was in the center of the remaining six guest suites on the floor.

We walked to the access control box by the VIP door, and Risa inserted her right index finger. The electric latch release clicked audibly, and I pulled the door open. I pulled the door closed behind us and we walked through the small VIP elevator foyer to the suite door. This time Risa inserted her left thumb into the access control device. After hearing the 'click,' I pushed the VIP suite door open to allow Risa to enter first.

Inside, I asked, "Did you enjoy the social hour and dinner?"

"Yes, very much. I have to say I was a bit surprised at how tame the conversation was. I guess I expected something a bit more suggestive, maybe even raunchy. The people we met and certainly George and Gerilyn and Roger and Lynette were very nice, very polite. And they were all excellent conversationalists, very articulate and obviously very well-traveled and worldly.

How about you, Tom?"

"Yes, but I've been here with Sharon before and knew what to expect. I was having fun watching other people at other tables watching you. Especially the women who were giving you the eye."

Risa laughed easily. "I guess the one thing that really surprised me — it shouldn't have, but it did — was that most of the women were wearing 'fuck me' dresses. I had been worried they and the men might think the same thing about what I'm wearing."

"No, Risa. You were dressed perfectly. I'm six-one, so in your heels you look as if you're nearly as tall as I."

"Speaking of which, would you mind if I took these heels off now that we're in the room? I'm really not used to wearing stilettos.

And I hope you'll be comfortable, too, Tom. Take off your coat and tie and relax. I know Bethany wants to see us together in the window at the beginning of the show, so we've got a couple minutes."

"She told me the same thing," I said as I removed my coat and tie and draped them over the chair in the sitting room. "What's that all about?"

"I don't know. I asked about that and about the show itself. All she would say is, 'You'll see.'" Bethany had slipped off her shoes in the sitting room. "Let's go in the bedroom and open the curtain. The lights are still down too low for anyone to see in. We can turn them and the audio up when it looks like the show is about to start.

She seemed to think we might not want to necessarily watch the entire program. She said she put a special program on channel 33. But I checked that channel before you got here before dinner, and the on-screen message said 'Risa and Tom, Your special program will start at 8:30. Have fun!' Mysterious, huh?

And something else. When I opened the suite's curtain to look out at the stage, there was a black traveler curtain blocking my room and any of the others from seeing the stage. Then again, it may have been to prevent the stage crew from seeing into the guest suites, too." Risa seemed quite knowledgeable about stage performances.

It was 7:58 p.m. according to my cell phone clock, and the stage show was scheduled to start at 8 p.m. Risa turned up the stage audio volume in her room and opened our curtain. The black traveler curtain was still closed, though it allowed enough stage light to bleed around it to suggest the stage work lights were still on.

At about 7:59:45, the work lights went black. Promptly at 8 p.m. the traveler curtain parted in its center in front of Risa's room and opened completely. A few seconds later, the stage lights came up to signal the beginning of the program.

We immediately recognized that what we assumed might be a bedroom scene or some other appropriate stage set was in fact either a boxing ring or a professional wrestling ring. I estimated it to be about 18 to 20 feet square. The ring floor's height and the ropes had been positioned so that Risa's and the other suites would have a slightly elevated view over the stage.

Michael, The Club's manager and maitre'd, appeared from between two black curtains directly across the ring from Risa's room and beyond the ring by about ten feet. As he appeared, a follow spotlight highlighted his movement to the ring ropes, then through them and on to the center of the ring. He was carrying a handheld wireless microphone and wearing a crisply pressed black tuxedo with a white shirt and black bow tie and black patent leather shoes.

"Good evening again, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to this evening's event," he said as his eyes looked slightly upward to appear to be addressing the guests in each of the suites. When he saw Risa and I standing together just behind her window with her room lights up, he paused and smiled briefly.

"As our members know, last year we took a survey of all members and asked you what kinds of entertainment performances you would like to see at The Club. You'll recall we asked for your own suggestions rather than merely giving you a list of our ideas for you to select from. To your great credit, nearly all members provided not just suggestions but detailed suggestions with explanations why you thought other members would enjoy your recommendations. Thank you all for being so responsive.

I admit to being a bit surprised but very pleased that the majority of you listed one type of event as one that would be entertaining and appropriately stimulating for The Club's members and guests. In fact, what you suggested was an improvement to an event we've offered for a few years. However, my able associate Bethany who also happens to be my daughter was not at all surprised.

I'll invite Bethany to come forward now and provide you with an introduction to tonight's event, an event in which she will be a personal although secondary participant. I hope you all enjoy the program.

Bethany..."

Once again, the curtain across from Risa's room parted and a second follow spot picked up Bethany as she moved to the ring. She had changed her appearance after leaving us in the dining room. Now her normally shoulder-length straight black hair was in a tight bun on the upper back of her head. That made her look taller than her normal five-two. She was now wearing a very crisply pressed and creased woman's white dress shirt with black bow tie and tailored black pressed jazz pants. She was also wearing black sneakers. Her demeanor and costume exuded control.

Bethany's attire appeared functional rather than sexual, but for some unexplained reason it started to get me hard. Looking out of the corner of my eye, I also noticed Risa seemed more attentive now, too.

As Bethany moved alongside Michael, she took the hand microphone from him.

"Thank you, Michael," she said crisply. At that instant, Michael's follow spot extinguished leaving her in her own spotlight at center ring. He left the ring by the same route from which he had entered.

"Michael was right. Michael, Paul, and the owners of the four clubs throughout the United States were surprised and quite pleased at your nearly unanimous desire to see..." she paused as if trying to come up with the right word, "... enhancements to our annual women's erotic professional wrestling event here at The Club.

I was not, however — not surprised, I mean. Pleased? Absolutely!

As some of you know, I lived for three years in Japan and worked as an assistant manager at Japan's second largest love hotel. One of my principal duties was to find and arrange for the hotel's special entertainment events for its VIP guests. The VIPs were often from other countries, so our events had to be sexually stimulating to people with a variety of preferences and from a range of cultures."

Bethany was obviously comfortable with the microphone. She spoke easily and conversationally, almost intimately, with the audience watching from the other side of the glass and on the large televisions in their rooms. She walked around the ring smoothly but slowly enough for the follow-spot to easily stay on her. Her voice and movements were those of someone skilled at addressing a large, even if unseen, audience.

"It was there in Japan that I became fascinated with women's professional wrestling," she continued.

"In Japan is called joshi puroresu. That's usually shortened to just 'Joshi' which is also the title given the women wrestlers.

Admittedly I found Joshi to be far more athletic, far less scripted, and remarkably more sexually stimulating than women's professional wrestling in the United States.

In Joshi there are two distinct classes of wrestlers: the entertainers and the shooters.

Entertainer Joshis are young, attractive women, but they perform more like scripted entertainers than athletes. It looks fake because it is so scripted. More drama and trash-talking than aggressive physical contact. And although the entertainer Joshis show a lot of skin, their performances are superficially athletic but not especially sexually arousing. In American professional women's wrestling, the wrestlers more closely resemble and perform like the entertainer Joshis in Japan.

In your survey responses to us, you clearly indicated that our American women's wrestling shows were getting a bit stale.

You wanted more, and tonight for the first time in the United States in a club setting, you will see a match by the second class of Joshis. They are the shooters.

The shooters are young women who have been selected for both their athletic ability and their toughness. They need to be able to take rough treatment and then bounce back. Shooters can take a punch and a fall and keep fighting. They engage in full contact wrestling that more closely resembles mixed martial arts than a stage production.

Because Japanese women tend to have less body mass, their kicks, punches, and throws tend to cause fewer injuries. But their moves are much faster, more gymnastic with lots of throws and flies. You'll see what I mean.

Tonight for your pleasure, we are presenting two young women who are shooter Joshis but who engage in an emerging form of joshi puroresu."

Bethany paused for dramatic effect, and she looked straight at Risa standing next to me.

Once she knew she had Risa's undivided attention, she said, "It is called joshi puroresu orugazumu."

Risa gasped and instinctively covered her mouth with her hand in surprise.

Bethany obviously got exactly the reaction she had hoped for from Risa. Bethany's smile was one of purely wicked pleasure.

"Ah," she told the others viewing live from their suites or on wide-screen video in their rooms. "I see some of our guests speak Japanese.

Joshis who accept the pleasures and challenges of joshi puroresu orugazumu — it's usually shortened to just joshi-O — can win a match by any of the usual means: pinning her opponent, forcing her opponent to submit, or rendering her opponent unconscious or injuring her so she cannot continue.

Joshi-O adds another way of winning. A Joshi-O fighter can win by bringing her opponent to an orgasm in the ring. Once a Joshi has applied an orgasm hold, her opponent is not allowed to submit to avoid orgasm. She must either cum or she must fight her way out of the hold. And since many of us have experienced orgasms, you know that once an orgasm has begun, fighting to avoid it usually the last thing on our minds.

We hope you enjoy tonight's Joshi-O match.

Now, let me introduce tonight's two Joshi-O contestants.

First, wearing the blue bikini. At age 24 from Hokkaido Prefecture, standing 5'-04" and weighing in at 103 pounds, Sky Blue."

The curtain parted and Sky Blue jogged down the ramp, jumped up to the ring apron, and vaulted the top rope into the ring. She waved to all the viewing suites and to the video cameras.

"And now, wearing the red bikini. At age 25 from Nigata Prefecture, standing 5'-03" and weighing in at 110 pounds, Firestorm."

Firestorm entered the ring in the same way Sky Blue had.

Both women were quite attractive, but at the same time, neither of them had wasted a minute putting on makeup. The determination to fight and win showed on both their faces.

"Joshis, go to your corners and prepare to fight!" Bethany instructed in perfect Japanese.

Then Bethany backed toward the unoccupied corner which was clearly visible to all the suites and the cameras. As she neared the corner she stopped suddenly and once again looked directly at Risa, still standing next to me.

While grasping at her blouse with one hand and her slacks with the other, Bethany pulled her hands sharply away and to the sides. There was what sounded like Velcro parting as Bethany's slacks and blouse tore away.

Underneath the tearaway costume Bethany was wearing a tight black-and-white striped referee's short sleeved shirt, tight black low-cut booty shorts, and black sneakers.

Except she wasn't.

A moment after seeing Bethany expose her new costume in such dramatic fashion, Risa's right hand once again flew to her mouth in surprise, and my eyes widened. Bethany saw our reactions to her costume and smiled.

At the same moment, Risa exclaimed, "Holy shit!" The force of her uncharacteristic profanity caused me to turn and look at her. She read my quizzical expression perfectly.

"You don't see it, do you?" she said loudly and excitedly to me.

See what? Obviously, I was missing something. Yes, Bethany's costume was sexy, but ...

Risa turned back toward Bethany who was still looking at her. While making eye contact with Bethany, she gave her the two-thumbs-up sign through the glass while practically shouting at me, "Bethany's nude except for the shoes! The shirt and shorts are painted on! She's fucking nude!"

My head snapped back toward Bethany, and I stared hard at her. Well, actually I stared to see if I could make out her tits and pussy. I very quickly did, then I looked up into her eyes and I, too, flashed her my own two thumbs-up.