Chapter 1
"Movies, Madame Tranh?"
Moderately amused, Warren Wilson arched a questioning eyebrow. "When I got your call that this was an emergency, I hurried right over. But I didn't think that you'd call me over just to watch some movies!"
"This is an emergency, yes," Madame Nuyen Tranh said, "An emergency for you, not for me, my dear young man."
"I'm afraid that I don't understand," Warren Wilson said.
"You will," Madame Tranh promised.
Madame Nuyen Tranh, formerly of Saigon, was now one of the most influential, if unpublicized, hostesses in the nation's capitol, Washington, D.C.
Small, slight, slender, she was an Oriental beauty, a living Dragon Lady. And indeed, her past was no less colorful than that imaginary heroine.
She was in her middle forties, standing little over five feet tall and weighing slightly less than one hundred pounds.
Her jet-black hair was cut short and straight, framing a face with aristocratic, doll-like features of stunning clarity and expressiveness.
Her face was lean, the good fine bones of her skull prominently displayed under the covering of her dusky amber skin.
Her almond shaped eyes held dark brown, nearly black irises, giving her eyes the look of holes bored in her skull.
Her lips were wide and full. She was slender, petite, with the figure of a young girl, a figure whose litheness was the envy of most women her age.
Nuyen was sheathed in a simple, elegant, expensive black dress, its thin straps running across her smooth shoulders, its black fabric molded to her form.
The dress was low cut, showing the round swelling curves of her breasts, which were high and firm and small.
The hem of the skirt fell to her knees, but the dress was slit up the sides, showing the middle of her taut amber thighs.
She hosted Warren Wilson in the room which served as the study and private office of her establishment, one of the most exclusive whorehouses in the city.
The Vietnamese beauty's name was a by-word for discretion. In this house, the masters of the government ignored party lines and came to pursue and savor their private desires, dreams, fetishes and fantasies.
The establishment was situated outside the city proper-, in an old brick house which had been taken over by the Madame from basement to attic.
It was a three-story house and almost every room was stocked with an international corps of beauties equipped to cater to all desires.
Everything from a standard missionary-position fucking, to an elaborate orgy of water sports with rubber-clad she-males, could be had in this house.
It served a most necessary function. Here it was that the masters of the country could let off steam and relieve the tensions of command in whatever way their lusts prompted them.
But it was no social call which had brought Warren Wilson to the house.
Why, then, had he been summoned?
Perhaps the answer to that question was contained in the wall safe which Nuyen now unlocked, dialing the combination.
Warren Wilson sat in a leather-cushioned, comfortably padded armchair by the massive desk of highly polished wood.
This room was tasteful, with wall-to-wall carpeting, wood-paneled walls and the pleasant aroma of wealth and taste.
Nuyen turned her back to Warren Wilson, who enjoyed the sight of her rounded buttocks arching and shifting under the sheath of the black dress.
She opened the safe, swinging out its rounded door and reaching into the cylinder-shaped cavity in the wall.
From within she took out a small, rectangular object of black plastic, which Warren Wilson immediately recognized.
As she shut the safe and turned to face him, Warren said, "That's a video cassette, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Must be pretty hot stuff, for you to keep it locked away."
"You will find out just how hot it is, my handsome young friend."
Her shapely legs crossed the room in lithe strides. She went to the far wall, pulling the drawstrings which caused a pair of blue, wall-length curtains to open.
The curtains swung back and to the sides, exposing a seven-foot television screen, mounted on the wall.
The screen uncovered, Nuyen inserted the video cassette into the machine and pressed down the appropriate buttons.
There was a whirring sound as the cassette was fast-forwarded through the machine.
Warren picked up his chair and turned it so that it faced the screen.
"You had better sit down for this one," Madame Tranh warned him.
He smiled. "Don't worry, I'm not fainthearted."
"You had better sit down."
Sit down he did.
Warren Wilson was a handsome, clean-cut young man in his early thirties. Tall and athletic, he had short dark hair and a pleasing, well-formed face.
Madame Tranh stopped the fast forward, freezing the picture. "What I have to show you - what you must see - starts here."
She threw the switch which allowed the video to run at its normal rate. She turned off the lights, throwing the room into darkness.
In that darkness, the video screen was a square of light. Warren Wilson took a good look at the images unrolling on the screen.
It was a porno film, of course. The lined texture of the video told Warren that what he was watching had been filmed on inexpensive video tape, rather than being put on film stock. It had the usual poor production values.
The scene, about a quarter of the way into the picture, took place in the usual cheesy motel room.
The room was simply furnished, with bare blue walls, a white plaster ceiling, a chest of drawers, a chair and a big, big bed.
The bed was the focus of attention for the picture.
A man and woman lay stretched out in bed.
The man was short, dark, muscular, with thick brooding features. His black hair was balding and his upper lip was shrouded with a thick drooping mustache.
His muscles showed the effects of bodybuilding, with the shoulders slabs of flexing muscle. Thick patches of black furry hair matted his chest.
He was bare from the waist up, with his lower body covered in black slacks, slacks whose crotch bulged conspicuously.
He lay on his back with his head resting on his folded arms.
His companion lay beside him, a voluptuous, statuesque platinum blonde.
Warren Wilson had a taste for vixenish trashy ladies with the bodies of burlesque queens and his interests were stirred by the sight of this blonde.
She was in her early forties, about the same age as the male companion who lay on the other side of the bed.
She was tall - tall, broad and wickedly curved. She had a wide sharply featured face, heavily made-up with wet red glistening lips.
Her hair was dyed a shade of blonde so pale that it was almost silver, except for the black roots to be seen at the scalp.
Her build was phenomenal. Her breasts were creamy melons of flesh whose sheer abundance was breathtaking.
Her torso was wickedly curved, shaped like an hourglass. Her hips widened out, full and womanly. Her legs were long and straight and strong.
She wore a black garter belt, stockings and high heels. Between the garter belt and the stocking tops, she was bare.
The thick black bush of her pussy testified without doubt that here was no natural blonde. The lips of her pussy were full and fleshy.
As the action on the screen progressed, the couple in bed were roused by a knocking on the door to the room.
The woman, sitting up, called out, asking who it was. From the other side of the closet door, an unseen speaker answered in a girlish voice that it was Sally.
The man, Tony, looked questioningly at the buxom blonde, Stella. Stella leered, red lips smiling in a look of hot lust.
She explained to Tony that it was Sally, her niece, come to call. Tony sat up in bed, back propped against the headboard, legs extended across the mattress.
Stella swung her long legs off the bed, set her high heeled feet down on the floor and rose, breasts bobbing heavily.
"Ummm! What a figure!" Warren murmured.
"Rather overgrown, for my taste," Madame Tranh sniffed, her woman's vanity stung by a compliment to another female in her presence.
"However, Warren, Stella is not the star of this show, as you will see."
Stella picked up a robe from a chair at the bedside. It was a gauzy black negligee, a wickedly see-through item which she shrugged on her shoulders.
The garment clung to her lush curves. She had creamy flesh and her nipples stood out dark and red and thick like cherries.
She pulled on the garment, belting it at the waist. See-through as it was, it made her look even lewder than she had looked earlier.
She crossed to the door with a breast-bobbing strut, hips swinging, long legs flashing. She unlocked the door and opened it wide to admit the newcomer.
Standing close to the video projector, Madame Tranh's wide lips quirked up in a chilly smile which was totally devoid of mirth.
"Now, dear Warren, you will have to, as you Americans so picturesquely put it, 'hold on to your hat'."
Standing outside the motel room was a young girl. She was in her middle teens but had been dressed to look even younger.
She was five and a half feet tall, sweet and nubile. Her chestnut brown hair was done up in a pert little pony tail.
She had a sweet, lovely face, pure and untouched. She looked totally out of place here, in this sleazy environment.
Stella, smiling broadly, stepped to one side to permit the girl to enter. At first, Warren Wilson could not get a clear look at the girl, due to the unsteady camera work of the cheaply shot video.
He leaned forward in his chair, features intent as he tried to get a better look. His sharp eyes narrowed as he stared.
Stella closed the door and locked it, she turned to hug and kiss the girl, who greeted her as "Aunt Stella".
Stella was close to six feet tall, with her high heels on and had to bend forward to kiss the girl on the mouth.
One of Stella's luscious tits flopped out of her gown. Unconcerned, she slipped it back inside the see-through black robe.
She held the girl's head in her hands and kissed her on the mouth. Her head blocked that of the girl's, so Warren still had not seen her.
Stella gave the girl a most ardent kiss. Her red painted lips pressed the girl's soft pink mouth, her tongue thrusting.
Her hand holding the girl's head hid the features of the little lady, but Warren could see the lush nubile mounds of the girl's breasts pressing out the front of the pink, little-girl dress she wore.
Stella took a long, lingering kiss. She broke it off at last, to slip her arm around the youngster's waist and give it a squeeze.
Now the girl stood so that she faced the camera, so that for the first time Warren Wilson got a close clear look at her.
He knew her.
A knife of unease twisted in his belly. He knew her! His guts churned and his skin tingled and his blood chilled.
"Oh, shit!" he cried.
Madame Tranh's long brown finger with its sharp polished painted nail reached out to halt the scene, freezing the image in place.
The action of the movie interrupted, the girl's face was frozen in place like a photograph, so that Warren Wilson could scrupulously examine it.
Yes, he knew who it was. There was no hope that this was just a chance resemblance with a stranger - no such luck!
Warren put his hand on his face and squeezed his flesh, moaning as he did so.
The girl was quite heart-breakingly lovely. She had an oval face, with delicate features, merry deep set dark eyes, a thin straight nose and a pink rosebud mouth.
"Now you know why I said that this was an emergency," Madame Tranh said. "It is her, isn't it?"
"Yes, that's her," moaned Warren Wilson. "That's Dana, all right! Christ! How can she be so fucking stupid?!"
He asked Madame Tranh, with a sinking feeling in his gut, "Just how bad does this film get?"
"That all depends on your point of view," she replied. "For the lover of such films – for those who fancy young, fresh girls - the film gets very, very good. From your standpoint - and that of your boss - it could hardly be worse!"
Warren Wilson chewed the inside of his mouth, his brain reeling, his mind working like a computer, thinking through plans, schemes, options, trying to figure out some way to minimize the damage from what was shaping up like a big damn mess.
No point in trying to make a decision before the damage reports were all in and until he had all the facts at his fingertips.
"It's her," he repeated. "Might as well see the rest of it!"
Madame Tranh's finger stabbed the button, once more freeing the frame and advancing the film, so that the action resumed once again.
Arm circling the girl's waist, Stella brought Dana to the bedside, where a grinning Tony looked her up and down with evident lust.
He moved over on the bed. Dana sat down between him and Stella. Warren Wilson just knew what was going to happen.
In this kind of video, such things as notions of plot were meaningless, so it took all of one minute or less of screen time for the adult couple to begin kissing and caressing the girl.
Dana was a lovely teen girl. She was sixteen, with thick dark hair, a radiant face and a deliriously nubile body.
Dana was also Dana Hawker, oldest daughter of former General Darius Hawker.
General Hawker was now one of the top policy makers in Washington, a leading and controversial figure in the current administration.
Darius Hawker was also Warren Wilson's boss. Warren was a shrewd, fast-moving trouble-shooter, one of the General's leading aides.
Warren was used to having hot potatoes dropped in his lap, but this one was shaping up as the biggest mess of all.
How in hell could Dana be so damned stupid?!
But she was always a trouble girl. She was smart and. spoiled and lovely. She was also reckless, headstrong and an insatiable seeker after kicks.
In his capacity as the General's trusted subordinate, Warren Wilson had cleaned up after Dana's messes more than once.
She had been expelled from close to half-a-dozen private schools for everything from smoking grass in the girl's room to seducing her French teacher.
She had been in trouble with the law on minor matters before and it had taken plenty of fancy footwork and even more hush money for Warren to keep the offenses out of the attention of the scandal-hungry press.
General Hawker was a controversial figure with plenty of enemies just waiting for an opening to really stick it to him.
Now it seemed that his daughter had provided his enemies with plenty of ammunition by getting involved in this video fuck-film.
The General was a blindly doting daddy to both his daughters. His younger daughter, demure Jennifer, was some three years younger than Dana.
Dana had plenty of money. Warren knew intuitively that the girl had gotten involved in this fuck film simply for kicks.
In the film, now, Stella kissed the girl once more. Her open mouth locked on Dana's, her jaw muscles flexing as she thrust her tongue in the girl's mouth.
Sitting on the other side of the teen beauty, Tony fondled the thick dark mane of her pony tail, then fingered the contours of her neck and face.
Stella broke off the kiss. She didn't have to do any acting here, since she obviously had an authentic taste for the delights of tender teen girls.
Tony was equally aroused, as the bulge in his pants demonstrated beyond a shadow of a doubt. He and Stella now openly fondled the girl.
Warren grimaced. Well, what was done was done. He knew that this was Dana Hawker, knew that utterly. So, for now, there was nothing to do but sit back and see the rest of the show. It promised to be a most stimulating one.
Stella's robe was open now, with both breasts bobbing out, the fat red nipples rising up from the mounds like thimbles of flesh.
The robe was only in her way, so she took it off and threw it casually over her shoulder, where it fell to the floor.
Stella pressed into young Dana, her abundant bosom right under Dana's chin. The girl looked down, eyes wide, mouth open.
Dana wasn't acting, either. Tony and Stella, a pair of veteran sex pros, had met their wanton match in this angel-faced teen temptress.
Tony's arm was across her shoulders. Warren Wilson squirmed when Tony's bare, muscled torso leaned into Dana's high-breasted body.
Tony put his hand on her breasts and fondled them through her dress. He took hold of Dana's hand and put in his lap, pressing it against his erection, holding it there and rubbing it. The girl moaned, shivered.
Stella, leering, put her hand on the back of the girl's head and pulled Dana's face down to her bosom. But there was little maternal feeling in this gesture.
Lust was the key. Stella's big stiff-nippled breasts jutted out, with Dana's face buried deep between them, engulfed in soft bosom flesh.
Stella swayed from side to side, so that the mounds of her breasts softly slapped the face of the moaning teenage girl.
Tony rubbed Dana's hand back and forth over his bulging crotch, massaging his member. His other hand rubbed and kneaded her breasts.
Bright rosy red spots of blazing color flared in Dana's cheeks.
Tony took her hand off his crotch long enough to open his pants. He undid the top button, pulled down the zipper and pulled open the flaps.
He wore no underwear, of course. He was naked under the black slacks and when he pulled open the zipper, his massive erection flopped out.
"Damn!" Warren Wilson whistled softly in admiration at the size of the splendid male member protruding from Tony's taut, muscular hips.
He had a swollen, uncircumcised cock which measured over eight inches long and was stiffly, thickly swollen. It rose from his hips in a tilted angle.
His erection now nakedly exposed, he put Dana's hand back on it, pressing it against his red and throbbing penis flesh.
Stella cupped one of her breasts, soft ripples of bosom flesh oozing through her spread fingers. She raised the breast to Dana's mouth.
Dana felt and saw Tony's erection. She gasped and moaned about how big he was, until she was silenced by the stiff nipple which Stella stuffed into her mouth.
Her hand closed over Tony's thick red shaft. When he took his hand away, she continued to pump and pull his penis.
He opened her dress. It unbuttoned down the front. Her breasts were cupped in a white cotton bra a few sizes too small.
Stella and Tony both disengaged so they could strip the girl.
Dana looked happily dazed with lust. Her eyes shone and she kept licking and chewing her pink lips with nervous excitement.
She was a passive little teen toy, a doll. She sat up in bed while Stella and Tony took off her dress, exposing her superb little body.
Dana wore a white bra and white panties. She was slim, with pear-shaped breasts, wide hips, a narrow waist and a rounded bottom.
Stella sat the girl up in bed while she reached for the bra strap at Dana's back and unhooked it and took off the girl's bra.
Her breasts were pear-shaped, with sharp shocking pink nipples jutting from their tips. Stella fondled and groped the breasts.
Tony took down her panties, making her all naked. Her dark brown bush was neatly trimmed and covered a pink-lipped pussy that was a joy to behold.
"That child's skin is as white and smooth and clear as milk," Madame Tranh muttered.
In the unnatural glare of the screen, Warren Wilson looked away from the action to take a quick scanning glance at the Vietnamese madame.
She was in a state of excitement, her dark eyes fastened to the screen, her wide lips slightly parted.
The tip of her pink tongue flicked out, wetting her wide lips. She sat with her arms folded across her sharply pointed breasts, hugging herself.
She squirmed on the seat, squeezing her thighs against her pussy.
Madame Tranh was voraciously omni-sexual, with a lust for all beautiful people of either sex. Warren knew that delicious Dana was getting under her skin.
How could the kid have been so god-damned dumb?!
She was getting her kicks, though. Dana loved to be the center of attention and she was getting plenty of that from Stella and Tony.
The lustful adults made free with her tender teen body, their hands sliding over her flesh, her limbs, stroking and caressing her.
Tony took off his pants. He stood at the bedside, holding his stiff penis.
Dana crawled across the bed on hands and knees, her stiff-nippled breasts bobbing and softly slapping the insides of her arms.
She crawled to the bed's edge, where her eager face was level with Tony's groin. She turned her face up to him.
He took hold of his member and pressed the head of it against her face. Dana's eyes were squeezed shut and she moaned eagerly as he rubbed the cock head all over her face.
Stella got behind the girl. She put her hands on Dana's lean hips. The hands had sharp scarlet-painted nails.
Stella pressed her face to Dana's backside. She nuzzled the buttocks, sliding her eager face this way and that way across them.
She kissed the buttocks up and down. Dana's knees were parted, spreading her ivory thighs and exposing her tender pink pussy.
Stella fastened her kissing mouth on the pussy lips.
Tony pressed the head of his swollen penis to Dana's puckered lips. Dana kissed the head. Tony put it in her mouth.
The corners of her lips were stretched by the thickness of the cock. Tony held her head in his hands and pushed his penis deep.
The girl's eyes widened as the fat member entered her mouth. Tony's taut buttocks stood out like rocks as he pushed his hips back and forth.
He pumped his swollen penis in and out of Dana's mouth, fucking her between the lips, his penis a thrusting blur of lust.
Stella was equally occupied. She had a long pink tongue which was rolling up and down the girl's slit, licking it with thick strokes.
Dana wiggled her hips and pert little bottom as her slit was tongued. Stella licked the outside of the pussy, then penetrated it with her tongue.
Her red, painted lips were pressed to the dusky pink pussy lips. Stella slid her tongue inside Dana and licked it.
Tony's cock got redder and hotter with each stroke. Suddenly he took hold of his member and pulled it all the way out of her mouth.
His penis burned bright red. It was sticky and shining with Dana's saliva. He pulled back the rose skin, exposing the knobbed glans.
He came all over Dana's face.