The Fantasy Factory Duet

Prologue

I stood in the middle of the room, looking around, my emotions all over the place. After two years of driving everyone insane, my dream was finally a reality, and the place was exactly as I had envisioned, down to every last floorboard.

For the fifth time-but probably not the final time-I walked through the front doors to see what the customers would see, and each time, a smile spread across my face, wide enough to make me look deranged.

Still, I didn’t care. I was looking at years of wishful imagination come to life, and after two years of blood, sweat, and tears, the end result was more than I could have ever hoped for.

It also felt a bit serendipitous that the final day of cleaning had landed on the same day that my divorce had been finalized.

After twenty years of living my life like a ghost, I’d gotten my reparations, and I had used them to buy an acre of land outside the city limits and build my dream.

Sure, Ben had been livid over how I’d chosen to spend my half of the divorce spoils, but I could hardly blame him since he knew that he was the reason behind what I was doing.

As I glanced around the room again, I took in the bar that extended the entire left side of the room, and I was satisfied that it looked just as classy as the rest of the place.

On the opposite end were the restrooms, three for the men, and three for the women, ensuring that no one would have to stand in line for long.

In fact, the restrooms were just as classy as the bar.

Taking a step back, I took in the rest of the room, the grand staircase the entire establishment’s pride and joy.

It had three sets of steps, one on either side of the second-floor landing, and the main one that flowed right down the middle of the room.

The banisters had been carved with the most careful of detail, and it really rivaled what you might see in a mansion or castle, even.

On the left side of the staircase was a room labeled Ladies’ Night, and on the right side was a room labeled The Bachelor Pad.

They were reservation rooms for whatever kind of party you wanted to have, though they appeared to be segregated by gender.

When I had envisioned the first floor, I’d wanted to create a space where people could come for a good time, nothing more, nothing less.

If you wanted to have a bachelor party, then you could do that here.

If you wanted to host an adult birthday party, then you could do that here as well.

A promotion at work? Absolutely. A divorce party? Of course.

However, I’d also wanted something more for my patrons; specifically, the women.

After having spent the last twenty years in a passionless marriage, I’d wanted to give women a freedom that I’d hadn’t had while married to Ben.

I’d wanted to give them something more than missionary with the lights off.

I’d wanted to give them a chance to really live, and to do it safely.

So, the second floor was an opportunity to explore your wildest fantasies safely and unapologetically.

There were four observation rooms with a private suite attached to each one of them, and you could pay to observe or pay for a room if you met someone with your same sexual tastes.

While I liked to think of my business as an adult getaway, Ben had reduced it to a sex club, but that wasn’t what this was.

This place was something more, and if the Bens of the world couldn’t see that, then so be it.

It wasn’t like his opinion kept me up at night anymore.

Now, because of the nature of the rooms, my security was going to be top-notch, and my management staff was going to be trained well.

Alcohol and sex were a potent combination, and it was important to me that my customers felt safe at all times.

That was one of the reasons why I’d decided against sex in the common room.

As for the second floor, the first room was for degradation fantasies, the second room was for bondage experimenting, the third room was for multiple partner exploration, and the fourth room was for voyeurism desires.

Depending on the success or failure of the club, I might expand later down the road, but if not, I’d chosen the most common proclivities that I could think of.

Looking around, taking it all in, I also wondered if I was ever going to be brave enough to use those rooms myself.

I’d been faithful to Ben throughout our entire marriage, and so the past two years had been spent dedicated to every nail, plank, and coat of paint in this place.

I hadn’t had time to date, nor had I been ready to.

Even though my marriage to Ben hadn’t worked out, he’d still been my life for twenty years, so I’d needed an adjustment period, even if he hadn’t deserved it.

However, my adjustment period was finally over, and it was time to start the second half of my unwritten story. While I hadn’t ever imagined that I’d be starting over at forty-years-old, I found myself eager to see where this was going to go, and I was all in.

Welcome to The Fantasy Factory, my name is Chamber McLaurin.