Chapter 7

Jennifer, seeming immensely pleased with herself, showed Daphne to her room. It was up a winding staircase and down a long corridor, on either side of which was a long row of doors.

"Will any Johns be up today?" she asked, smacking on a fresh wad of gum.

Jennifer looked at her sharply. "We refer to them as clients here, Candy. You'll find we're the very highest of the upper echelon in our profession. Rule number one is that our clients are treated with the utmost respect; they are dignified men in lofty positions, and they warrant consideration. Anything they want, you give them with a smile. If you don't enjoy it, you'll damn well act as if you do. Understand?"

"Sure, no sweat," Daphne said. "Uhm ... we never did discuss pay."

"You get room and board, since our girls live here. Plus six hundred dollars a week."

Daphne didn't know which statement to comment on first. Six hundred dollars a week was much more than she had ever earned-ever hoped to earn-in a legitimate job. And if she had to live at the house, how could she communicate with Greg? She weighed them in her mind, and decided to laud the high pay first, in order to avoid any suspicion.

"Yes," Jennifer said, "we pay very well. We feel our girls deserve it. And, considering what we charge our clients, we can easily afford it."

"I guess I'll have to go back to town and ... check out of my motel," she said, relieved that she escaped her near-slip of the tongue and avoided telling Jennifer that she would move out of her apartment. Girls just in from New Orleans don't have apartments.

"That would be a good idea," Jennifer said. "You can do that tomorrow. You can park your car in the stables behind the estate."

"What about time off?" she asked off-handedly. "Gotta have time to spend all that money."

"Our girls get three days a week, plus any emergency time they need. You may be a hooker, dear, but in this house you're treated like any regular employee. We even give vacations."

That was good. "What days do I get?"

"Weekends are a privilege of girls who have been here a while. You can have Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Does that suit you?"

"That'll be fine," she said, but she thought it would be fantastic. Three entire solid weekdays to do other work on this case, to meet with Greg, to compare notes and exchange information.

Jennifer opened one of the doors in the corridor and ushered Daphne in. The room took her breath away. Lavishly decorated with stunning examples of antique furniture, it was without a doubt the most beautiful room she had ever seen. The centerpiece, of course, was the bed, a massive king-size feather bed with posters and a canopy. Suspended from the canopy above the bed was a full-length mirror; another mirror hung from the wall beside the bed. Both mirrors had drapes surrounding them. "Some of our clients like them, some don't. Keep the curtains drawn," Jennifer said. "If your client wants to use the mirror, uncover them."

Daphne nodded, and followed Jennifer around as she was shown the rest of the room. When she was finished, she said, "You have access to the living room and drawing room downstairs, as well as the library here upstairs, and the kitchen downstairs, which is well-stocked with snacks. Meals are served at 9 a.m., noon and 7 p.m. in the dining room. There's a patio and sundeck, as well as a swimming pool outside. If you like to ride horses and you have no appointments, you're welcome to use the stables. Any questions?"

"Nope," Daphne aid. "Sounds like the ideal arrangement."

"We think it is," Jennifer said. "And, by the way, Candy: please try to clean up your grammar and vocabulary a bit. Our clients do like a sophisticated class of girl."

Daphne smiled, holding back a burst of angry words, and said, "I'll do my best."

"I'm sure you'll work out fine. If you have any questions, you can reach me on the house phone at extension one." Then she turned and left the room.

Daphne lay on the feather bed for a while, enjoying its soft, bouncy feeling. She watched television, took a shower, then walked through the house and grounds, which seemed all but deserted. At seven, she found her way to the dining room, where a dozen girls were congregated for their evening meal. Daphne was stunned by their beauty and grace. She sat beside a black girl, over six feet tall with a massive Afro hairstyle. Her name was Gloria, she said, and Daphne learned during the course of the meal that Gloria spoke three languages, and had a master's degree in civil engineering.

Jennifer was nowhere to be seen. "Jennifer doesn't eat with the working girls," Gloria said. "She and her associates have a private dining room upstairs."

Daphne was also impressed by the meal: filet mignon, cooked vegetables, a fresh avocado salad, three kinds of wine and a mousse for dessert.

Stuffed to the point of bursting, she and Gloria went upstairs. Just as she was about to enter her room, a gentle buzzing sound went off. "What in the world was that?" she asked.

"Cattle call," Gloria said. "Slip into something sexy and meet me out here. I'll show you the ropes."

Daphne went into her room and rummaged through her bureau until she found something she liked. It was a nightie, its hem cutting across just below her pussy. If she raised her arms, the nightgown would lift up over her navel. It was white lace, and sheer, so her alabaster orb-like breasts would be clearly visible through it, yet covered enough to be sensual and mysterious.

She undressed, and while she was naked, she studied herself in the mirror beside the bed. She didn't think she had the assets of the other girls, but she was very attractive, and, if Paul was any judge, she was one hell of a good fuck. The thought turned her cold for an instant, as she recalled her life before undertaking this assignment, and her life before coming to Washington. She forced the remembrances aside, and slipped into the nightie, then stepped into a pair of spiked shoes. Then she surveyed herself again. Something any man would want, she thought.

She put a robe on over the nightie, and stepped into the hall.

Gloria was already there, and the change in her amazed Daphne. She wore a long, black, silk nightgown, translucent only at her huge breasts and bushy cunt. The gown opened just below her pussy and revealed deliciously long, tapering legs. She wore platform shoes that added five inches to her height, and she had painted African-like designs around her eyes. "Some men like my type," she said good-naturedly, "and some like yours. Come on."

Daphne followed Gloria downstairs and along a shadowy corridor into a small waiting room, containing three couches, a television and a few pictures on the walls. The other girls were also there, dressed in a variety of seductive ways. They sat on the couches while the television flickered a silent picture. They chatted idly about this and that. Then a bell rang, and one of the girls stood and left the room through a door on the other side.

"She's on display. You walk into the display room, show the client what you've got, then come back here. He makes his choice, and Jennifer will let us know who it is. Got it?"

"Got it," Daphne said.

The first girl returned, smiling broadly, and the next went out. When the door was closed, the first girl said, "It's Congressman Post." The girls all relaxed suddenly, and their chatter turned happy.

"Phil Post isn't one of our regulars, but he stops in now and then," Gloria said to Daphne. "He's about forty, in good shape, and he's good looking. Most members of Congress are in their late fifties or sixties, and they're fat and balding and have varicose veins. Phil Post is a real treat."

Daphne waited, her pulse accelerated, as the girls left the room one by one, were gone for a minute, then returned. Gloria took her turn, and when she returned, she looked at Daphne and said, "You're on, kid."

Daphne took a breath and stepped from the waiting room into the display room. The door clicked shut behind her.

Phil Post was, indeed, a good-looking man. He sat in his tailor-made three-piece suit, his legs crossed, his deep-blue eyes drinking her in. She walked up to him, did a turn, then stretched her arms above her as though awakening from a luxurious nap. The hem of the nightie rose, and she watched his eyes lock on her exposed pussy.

Then she turned again, and left the room. "God," she said, once she was back with the other girls. "He's a fine specimen, isn't he?"

"One of the very best," one of the girls agreed.

They all chatted together for a while more, then the door opened and Jennifer came in. She pointed first at a short, richly tanned girl with long rolls of flowing brown hair, and then she pointed at Daphne. "Oh, Jesus," Gloria squealed gleefully. "A two-way!"

Daphne looked at Gloria uncomprehendingly, then it dawned on her. Congressman Post wanted both of them.

"You'll use Candy's room," Jennifer said, "give her a chance to break it in."

This was met with a round of laughter, then Jennifer said, "Come on, girls, upstairs."

Daphne and the long-haired girl left together. "My name's Dawn," the girl said. "Ever hook a two-way before?"

"I honestly can't say I have," Daphne replied truthfully. No harm in being honest about that. Then, just to make sure she was covered, she added, "but I'll bet it's fun."

"That depends," Dawn said as they began to mount the stairs. "With Post, it's bound to be a kick. With some of them, it's just passable. And with others, it's a real drag."

"The old ones, with the varicose veins," Daphne said, remembering Gloria's words.

Dawn laughed. "That's them! A real boring evening, those old fogies."

Daphne held her door open for Dawn, who plopped onto the feather bed without comment. She kicked her pumps off, and snuggled into the soft mattress. "You like it here?" she asked.

"I guess you know it's only my first day."

"If you're a working girl, you'll love it here. It's Paradise."

"That's what I'm told."

There was a knock on the door, and Daphne jumped to her feet, her pulse beginning instantly to race. Dawn just swung her long, slender legs over the side of the bed, and waited expectantly.

The door opened, and Jennifer ushered Post inside. "Congressman," she said, "this is Dawn, whom I believe you already know. And this is Candy. She's new with us."

Post nodded at Daphne, his eyes hungry. "We hope you enjoy your stay," Jennifer said, and began backing out of the room.

"I'm sure I will," Post said, and when the door closed, he added, "as usual."

Dawn slithered off the bed and walked toward him, her small, compact ass swiveling back and forth as she moved. When she was in front of him, she raised her arms up around his neck and pulled him down to her, and kissed him. He forced her lips apart with his tongue, and then invaded her warm, moist mouth. Daphne watched his crotch as the bulge there grew larger, and wondered what she should do.

She knew what she wanted to do. Despite the encounters she had had in the last few days, she wanted to bolt, leave the room, the house ... find her car and go back to Washington, or back home.

No, never! She had to tough it out, and learn what she could so she could report back to Greg. But what to do? Dawn had already rested her hand beneath the fabric of Post's pants, caressing his stiff, blood-engorged member through the material. Their tongues fenced outside their mouths, and Post had grabbed Dawn's ass with both hands.

She could not wait any longer; she could give no clue that would indicate to Dawn or Post that she was not adept at her profession. They could report to Jennifer, and she could pass the word along to whoever she worked for. She could not allow so much as a simple, "Join us?" from Post. She had to jump right in, feet first, and she knew it.

She walked over to Post and Dawn, still locked in their passionate embrace, he clutching her gorgeous asscheeks, she vigorously rubbing his meaty member through his trouser. She told herself: one, two, three, and grabbed Post, breaking the embrace. She whirled him around, grabbed "him by the shoulders and shoved him down to his knees. Her hands wound around his head, each one taking hold of a handful of his hair, and then, closing her eyes, she pulled his face into her hair-fringed fissure.

Post was stunned, and for an instant, he simply kneeled there, his face pressed against her downy curls, the sheer fabric of her nightie between his skin and her velvety pubic hair. Then he realized the position he had been put in, and he began to push his tongue out, tasting the scent her young pussy had expelled onto her nightie, and feeling the soft pubic curls through the material. His nose burrowed between her tender lips, and he inhaled deeply of the aroma that rose from her musky cavern, and his lips quivered, opening and closing the entrance to her cunt, and generating the beginning of a flood of intoxicating female lubricant.

In no time at all, the nightie around her pussy was soaked, saturated with her flowing juices. Her eyes had been closed at first so she would not have to see what she was doing, but now they were shut so she could concentrate on the ecstasy she experienced from the movements of his expert mouth. The hands that had mechanically clenched Post's hair in order to pull him close now squeezed it and bunched it and massaged it as he drank in all of her fluids that he could through the filter of her nightie.

Dawn, meanwhile, had shed her own light layer of clothes, except for her garter belt and stockings, and had knelt behind Post and started unbuttoning his shirt. She had it off, and ran her silky fur-like pussy up and down the length of his spine, lubricating the flesh of his back. When he realized what the wet and warmth was that stroked him, he pushed Daphne away and grabbed Dawn again by the ass, and pulled her over so hard that she topped ass-first to the floor.

By the time she landed, her legs were already obscenely splayed, and her sizzling cleft was open and waiting in front of him. Impatient to quench his agonizing desire, Post dove into the parted cuntal walls, and licked and sucked at her pussy with a feverish intensity. He was on his knees, hunkered over Dawn and trapped between her bent, spread knees. Dawn moaned and whimpered, and pushed his head closer to her.

Daphne's own inflamed cunt ached for more attention from Post, from his hands and mostly from his cock. She kneeled behind him, his butt reared up toward her, and she reached around his waist and unbuckled his belt, holding his throbbing erection through the pants as she maneuvered. When that was done, she found the button and undid that, then by feel, she slid his zipper down. His pants fell loose, and she yanked them down to his knees, and put her hand between his legs to force them apart. Post wasn't sure what she wanted to do, but he cooperated, spreading his legs but remaining on his knees. His tongue had found Dawn's tiny clitoris and was drawing moist, hard circles around it as his lips sucked on her tender, pink flesh, drawing moisture from her pussy into his lustful mouth.

Daphne pulled his underwear down to where his pants rested at his knees, then lay on her back and slithered between his legs, until she saw his rigid stiffness just inches above her face. She couldn't get quite close enough, though, because of Dawn's feet, but Dawn felt her and lifted her legs high into the air, squeezing Post's head between her creamy thighs.

Now Post's cock was in tonguing range, and Daphne felt her serpent's tongue snake from her mouth, searching upward. It made contact with one of Post's sperm-laden testicles, and it tasted of heat and salt. She retracted her tongue and coated it with her saliva, then it darted out again and cradled Post's lust-bloated ball in the delicate curl. She heard Post groan, the sound muffled by the pussy he was eating, but Daphne felt ravenous passion grow inside her. Raging genital heat flooded her, making her spine shiver and quake, and her bowels felt weak. She switched to his other ball, and she watched close-up as the thickness of his cock increased, the shaft growing with each lick and bite she gave his sperm-filled sacs.

Her vulva itched from the liquids that flooded, gushed from her pussy and saturated her sparse pubic hair, then dripped onto the floor. She took most of both his testicles in her mouth and sucked on them, her fist instinctively wrapping around the thick, throbbing erection.

His body was racked suddenly by a tremendous jerk, reaction to a spasm of intense excitement, and his delicious balls were pulled from Daphne's mouth. She sought them again with her wagging tongue, but it came into contact instead with the sensitive underside of his long, stiff penis, and she licked it up to the red, spongy cock-head, then back down to the base near the testicles, using long, lingering, wet strokes. She felt him shiver in response, and wriggled a little further, so she could take his crown in her mouth.

Her lips parted over the head of his vein-lined cock, her fist still closed over the base, and she nibbled on the head and sucked on it. Post shivered in response, and suddenly his hips thrust forward, and the length of his pulsating prick slid along her tongue and down into her throat. She held back a gag, but was amazed at how good it felt, her mouth filled with his stone-hard meat, her jaws open as far as they would go and every sensation locked on the texture and taste of his manliness.

He lifted his hips again, pulling his cock almost entirely from her mouth, leaving her only the tip of his crown to lick and bite, and then he pushed it in again, and she felt his balls bounce off her forehead and tickle her nose.

He's fucking my mouth, she thought, and held his ass as he pounded his cock into her. Each time he withdrew, she sucked on his shaft, and each time he pistoned down her throat, she closed her mouth just enough for her teeth to drag along the flesh of his member. He stiffened even more, she felt, inside her mouth, and she felt the heat his genitals radiated.

Post was concentrating so hard on Daphne and the warm cavity inside her mouth that encased his throbbing cock, his own mouth work on Dawn had been reduced to virtually nothing, and Dawn shoved him away. His cock was pulled from Daphne's mouth, and together they rolled him onto his back, and simultaneously dove down to his penis. Daphne resumed swallowing his shaft, deep-throating it by herself just as much as Post had been while he was humping her face. Dawn concentrated on his swollen, moving testicles, licking and squeezing and biting them.

He shuddered as he climaxed, and his cock filled so much of Daphne's mouth that the jets of hot cum squirted from her lips, cascading like thick white waterfalls over the length of his shaft and splattering across Daphne's breasts, dribbling down her cleavage under her nightie.

She moved to lick the salty semen away, but Dawn was already there, her tongue stroking upward along his coated shaft, and she swallowed the stuff with a sly smile. Daphne licked as much as she could, sucking it out of his pubic hair and off his balls, and then she nearly jumped to the ceiling with ecstatic excitement. Dawn had put her arms around her and was licking Post's ejaculation from her breasts!

Post slid away, and sat on the bed, watching Dawn pull Daphne's nightie away and bury her head between Daphne's firm, doughy breasts. The girl's tongue followed a path along her breastplate, between her two mounds of muscle and flesh, licking away the sperm. Her fingers pinched Daphne's nipples and pulled them, extending them farther than they had ever been stimulated before.

When Dawn finished, she rose and put on her most seductive look for Post. Daphne remained on the floor, her nightie peeled mostly away, her legs dangling lewdly open, soft whimpers escaping her throat. Her hands rested atop her breasts, and her cunt quivered in agony. Through the entire sequence, nobody had touched her hungry pussy.

Dawn eyed Post's limp cock. "Can't you get your friend to stand up for me?" Dawn said.

Post grinned. "You and Candy can come over here and see what you can do."

Daphne hoisted herself up, a Herculean effort, and followed Dawn to the bed. Post had stripped himself of all his clothes, and Dawn bent to his chest and planted her moist, full lips over his nipple and began to nibble.

Daphne went to the other side and began biting gently the line his spine traced down his back. His nerves sang from the sensation, and Dawn closed her hand around his penis.

It began to grow, and Daphne watched fascinated as her hand seemed to expand as the cock stiffened inside it. Then, like something hatching from an egg, the cock poked out of her hand, stiff and vibrating.

Aware that his penis was ready for action again, Post turned around and grabbed Daphne by the waist, and flung her belly-down onto the bed. Then he moved behind her and, still holding her waist, hoisted her ass up toward him. Her sopping pussy was open and inviting. With one hand he pried her lips farther apart, and deftly poked his restored erection between them.

The nerves of her inflamed pussy sang as she was stabbed with his impaling thickness; she felt a mingling of pleasure and pain, and she remembered Paul's tremendous cock slamming into her, her back being shoved against the wall as he thrust in and out of her with strong, wrenching strokes.

But the pleasure overrode the pain, and she moaned throatily and Congressman Post's cock pumped her from behind, and his swollen balls slapped against her cheeky buttocks.

Dawn settled herself in front of Daphne, leaning against the bed's headboard, and spread her legs for Daphne. Post's long stiff member was rubbing hard against her distended clitoris, making it swell with orgasmic intensity, and she saw Dawn mouth the words, "Eat me," but no sounds fell from her mouth.

Still, Daphne hungrily pushed her mouth against Dawn's smooth, wet cunt, moistened already by a mingling of her own flowing lubricants and Post's saliva. Nothing could have tasted better. Daphne poked her tongue in, easily separating the well-worked walls of Dawn's pussy, and Dawn tightened her vaginal muscles around her tongue.

Post's hands gripped Daphne's quaking buttocks, and a finger flicked gingerly over her puckered anal ring, sending shock waves through her entire body and making her head swim.

The harder Post humped her, the more voraciously she worked on Dawn's delicious pussy, her tongue gliding along the slit of her cunt and then dipping into the honey pot below. Post's cockhead jammed against her cunt-top, hurting her a little, but the pain only intensified the sensual feelings that coursed through her. Her delicate pussy-walls felt his cock stiffen as his thrusts came in shorter, faster jerks. The pinhole in the head of his penis opened and his vicious male sperm spurted forth, filling her cunt and splattering hard against her clitoris, bringing on her own climax. Unaware of what she was doing, she bit down on Dawn's rocky little clit, and it exploded between her teeth, and her mouth filled with Dawn's inebriating juices.

The three of them fell limp. They lay together for a while, touching their hot, sweaty flesh, and giggling from the intimacy of their experience.

Then Post looked at his watch. "Jesus," he said. "I've got to be on the floor in two hours. Holy Christ, where are my clothes?"

Daphne rose and found his clothing and handed it to him, and he practically dove into them. He looked up briefly from his dressing to admire Daphne's shape, though, and he smiled. "You're definitely enough to make a man late," he said.

She curtsied. "Thank you, kind sir," she said, and he laughed.

"Walk me to the door," he said.

Daphne found her nightie and slipped it on, then stepped back into her shoes. "I'm parked out back," he said, and she walked arm-in-arm with him down the stairs, leaving Dawn spent and listless on Daphne's feather bed.

She allowed Post to show her the way to the back, and smiled and walked with a sophisticated, sexy walk, but her mind was elsewhere. First of all, her poor pussy ached from the activity of the day. But more important, she had just balled a Congressman and learned nothing of those leaks. She had so far compromised her morals, and failed at her task.

They walked down a dim hallway, past the servant's quarters, to a small porch enclosed within the great house. Post squeezed Daphne's shoulder, then went outside. A black limousine pulled up to the stoop, and the chauffeur got out and held the back door for the esteemed member of the House of Representatives.

Then the car was gone, and Daphne was alone. The firework sensations she had felt with Post and Dawn were gone, replaced by a feeling of futility and emptiness. Dejected, she walked back down the dim hall, toward the front of the house and the staircase. She wanted only to spend several hours under a hot jet of water, washing away the grime she felt.

She stopped when she heard voices.

The sounds were coming from behind a door in the middle of the hallway, muffled and spoken in low voices. She located the door and pressed her ear to it.

The voices were too soft and distant for her to hear complete sentences. But she heard enough. The words Rutledge, Middle East, sheikh, something-thousand-dollars, and others that implicated the house directly with the leaks made their way through the wooden door to Daphne's ear.

Suddenly she felt renewed, alive again, clean again. She was on to something big, and the most important thing she could think of was getting in touch with Greg Stafford.

But her day off wasn't until Wednesday, and it was only Friday. She daren't use the phones in the house, for they were surely tapped. She didn't know if she could contain herself with the information she had. But she would have to try.

Try! She had four entire days to dig up more, now that she had something. And she had only been here about nine hours. What she could learn in four days...! She hurried back to her room, where she and Dawn took turns in the shower, and then she crawled alone into bed.

But she could not sleep. Not now. Things were coming to a head.