0 comments/ 49831 views/ 0 favorites Magdalena By: Patrick For me, birthdays came and birthdays went with very little fuss, but my father had always asserted that ‘0’ related birthdays were significant milestones in our lives, so we should celebrate them accordingly. I accepted that advice, so my 20th, 30th, 40th and 50th birthdays had all been celebrated with due reverence, a lot of food and drink, and a damn good party! My children thought that when my 60th came along I would treat it a little differently, having lost my wife of 35 years to cancer just 18 months before. But I thought it was important to keep the tradition going, so I expressed my desire to have a large gathering on my birthday. Fortunately I had been blessed for the last 20 years with a Secretary without equal .. I’m sure at times she even thought the way I did – only sooner! I was the owner and managing director of a small but prosperous company which employed about 50 people and had led the field in some computer developments over the years ...making me quite a wealthy man in the process ...so on this special occasion I decided to go all out and have my workers and their families at the party as well as my family. Mary Stein was 5 years older than me and on the verge of retirement, but she set about organizing my little bash like it was a military exercise ...the music, the catering, the decorating of my large house in the suburbs, everything. I think she saw it as her farewell gesture to me after so many years working together, and I appreciated it greatly. She’d decided it was time to take things easy and go and live with her children a few thousand miles away, and I knew I was going to miss her and be a little lost without her, she had almost become a family institution, and all three of my kids had grown up calling her aunty. But the night had finally arrived, and when I came down the stairs into the main hall area I could hear the noise of music and people talking, coming from the large entertainment area. I glanced in the mirror to see if I was ready to meet the throng, and saw reflected back at me a slim, silver haired man, with a slight tan still evident from last summer. A little over 6ft, my shoulders just beginning to stoop a little, a lined face, though not ancient looking, rescued from age, I think, by the twinkling eyes and the smile that I had been told was warm enough to melt an Eskimo! I was dressed relatively casually in a light floral shirt and thin slacks, because the weather had turned unexpectedly warm for so early in the year. Satisfied that I was presentable, I opened the door, to be assailed by the loud rumble of many voices all talking at once, and the music struggling to be heard over the top ... I smiled ... just the kind of party I liked, lively and animated. My children quickly came over and hugged me and wished me a happy birthday .. they’d given me their presents earlier.. and my eldest son handed me a glass of my favorite Vodka and orange. Then they were gone, into the swirling mass of humanity, leaving me to wander around slowly, greeting people, chatting, smiling, even occasionally dancing a little. Most of the workers had been with me as long as I’d had my company so were more like friends than employees. I knew some of their families too, but, of course, I only got to see them on rare occasions, and time can create significant changes, especially amongst the young, so when my chief accountant Joseph berg introduced me to his 20 year old daughter Magdalena, I was astonished at what I saw. The girl that I’d remembered as an awkward buck toothed kid of 11 or 12 had blossomed into an absolutely beautiful woman. She was tall and slim and had black hair cascading down past her shoulders, hair that she had a habit of partially hiding behind as she gazed up at a person, giving her an air of innocence and even tentativeness. I found myself drawn to her immediately, and stood for quite some time talking to her. Joseph and his wife were both small and rather plain looking, so I wondered how they had managed to create such an exquisitely beautiful daughter. We danced together, and I enjoyed the feel of her slim, tight body wrapped in my arms, she seemed to mold into me as we danced, making me seem a much better dancer than I really was, and her initial nervousness gave way to a delightful warmth. I was even sorry when the music ended and I had to hand her back to her parents and continue on my rounds of the party. A little something of her remained with me, and my thoughts went back to her time and time again, but when I finally caught up with Joseph and his wife again they said she had excused herself and gone home. I was surprised at the little twinge of disappointment that went through me. By this time the gathering had thinned considerably, and was obviously winding down. Mary came and said goodnight and told me she’d organized a clean up squad for 10 the next morning , so not to worry, and I gave her the usual kiss on the cheeks and a quick hug, and she was gone. Followed soon after by my three children and their families, the musicians, the caterers, and the last slightly intoxicated company workers, all proclaiming loudly that it was the best bash they’d ever attended and they couldn’t wait for my 70th. I smiled as I let the last one out and walked over to refresh my drink, Mmm, only the second for the evening, I’d done well. I stood, gazing around at the empty room, the echoes of the party still humming in the air, and I sighed, alone at last ... not that I really liked being alone, but I’d grown accustomed to it since my wife died and at times found myself eagerly seeking it out, perhaps a sign of my age, I don’t know. I walked slowly towards the steps to the basement, we’d had a small In ground pool placed there many years ago, and it had become something of a tradition after any celebration to end the night by taking a dip in the pool. But as I reached for the door handle, I heard something, a small sound from another room. I stopped, listening, but it didn’t come again, but I was sure it had come from the library. I frowned, I was sure none of the guests would have had reason to go in there, but I walked slowly over and opened the door. The room was virtually in darkness, but there was enough pale moonlight coming in from the window to see a figure sitting behind my desk. “Who is it? who’s there?’ I called out. There was a slight gasp, and then silence, I’m not sure why I didn’t simply put the light on, but something held me back. I walked slowly forward towards the desk, and my eyes widened as the moonlight finally fell onto the person’s face, “Magdalena! What are you doing here? Your parents said you’d left earlier” I said. She stood up, “I wanted to speak to you and I didn’t want them to know about it because they would have stopped me” she said, quietly, a slight tremor in her voice. “Stopped you?, why?, they seemed quite happy for us to talk earlier, even to dance” I said, “Yes, but they didn’t know I was going to ask you for a job” she said. I smiled, “Oh, and you think the appropriate way to ask for a job is to hide in a darkened library and frighten the life out of me” I said. I saw her raise her hand to choke back a laugh, “I’m sure I didn’t really frighten you” she said, ‘And if I’d come to the office daddy would have known, and I wanted it to be a surprise” she added. “Well it certainly is a surprise” I said, wondering why I wasn’t angry about this intrusion, “And what job is it that you want” I asked. “I want to be your Secretary” she said, with a slight swallow and squeak in her voice that told me how nervous she really was. I laughed gently, “But I already have a Secretary, a very good one” I said. “But she’s retiring soon, and you’ll need a new one, and I want to be it” she said, surprisingly forcefully. Then she hesitated, and her voice dropped, “I really need it, I’ll do anything to get it” she whispered. I felt a shiver run up and down my spine. “We can’t talk here in the dark” I said, “I was about to go down to the basement pool and take a swim, why don’t you come along, and you can tell me why you think you’re qualified to take over as my Secretary” I said, and not even waiting for an answer, turned and walked out. I was surprised to find that I was a little aroused. I opened the door to the basement and walked down, flicking on the lights within the pool rather than the overhead lights. So the room took on a beautiful blue green glow. I glanced up and she was standing at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide and her mouth a little open, “Wow, that’s beautiful, I didn’t know you had a pool” she said. I smiled, “We had it put in quite a long time ago, it’s kept heated so we can use it all the year round, and it’s lit so we can pretend we’re out in the moonlight” I said. She moved slowly down the steps towards me and I was struck again by her innocent beauty, “I guess you mean you and your wife” she said, “I’m sorry about that” I shrugged, “I think I’ve dealt with that now, although it’s at times like this when I feel her absence most, we always made it a ritual to come down here after a big party, just the two of us, and we’d take off our clothes and swim, and ... Well .. I blushed .. I guess you know what I mean” I saw her tongue come out and brush quickly over her lips, “Yes” she whispered, “And now you come down and take your clothes off and swim alone” I nodded. Her head lifted and she looked at me, “Do you want me to leave?” she asked quietly. Once again I felt that strange shiver run through me and my eyes flitted over her from head to toe, noticing...not for the first time, I’m sure, but quite consciously now .. the delicate thrust of her breasts beneath her thin dress, and I had the feeling that the nipples were much harder and firmer than before. Without even thinking, I reached out and trailed the fingers of my right hand down over her breast, feeling her nipple leap and jump, hearing her sharp intake of breath. Then I pulled my hand back, flushing, ashamed of what I’d just done, damn she was just 20 years old, “I’m sorry” I whispered, “I guess I got carried away with your beauty ... and my loneliness. Perhaps you better had go and wait for me in the library, I don’t want to shock you again, but I don’t wear anything when I swim” I watched , fascinated, as the pink seemed to start on the upper slopes of her breasts and race all the way up to her hair line and beyond, she gulped, then lifted her head, tossing the hair aside, and almost glared at me, “I’m not a child” she said, “I have seen a naked man before” I grinned at the spirit she’d shown, “But that doesn’t mean you want to see an old man like me naked” I said. “You’re not old” she blurted, “In fact” she blushed furiously again “you’re...you’re rather attractive” I’m not sure if the flush that ran through me was a blush ... or an arousal ...I know I was surprised that she found me attractive...surprised...and pleased. “And you, Magdalena, are probably the most beautiful girl I’ve seen in a long time, and if I was 30 years younger. Or you were 30 years older, I’d be tempted to invite you to join me” I said. “Invite me? ... you mean .. to ...oh” ...she glanced again at the pool, her tongue again coming out to run over her lips, “It does look beautiful .. and inviting” she said. There was no doubt this time, my cock, just lurched up into instant erection...the thought of seeing this adorable young girl naked. I groaned inwardly, but then suddenly felt a streak of wildness run through me, and without a word I started to unbutton my shirt, easing it from my trousers and tossing aside. Her mouth was shaped in an ‘OH’ of surprise, but she made no attempt to leave, or even to look away. I slowly undid my belt, then unzipped my trousers, and hooking my fingers into my underpants at the same time, stripped them down and stepped out of them. As I stood up, I tossed them aside, and I was standing before her totally naked ...naked, and very, very aroused! This time her gasp was loud and long as her eyes almost popped out of her head, staring, staring at my rampant cock, throbbing and bobbing out in front of me. I reached out, and this time I slipped my fingers under her chin and lifted it, so she was looking straight at me. I used my other hand to brush her hair away, so I could see her whole face. “Now you know what your beauty does to me ...you can either leave...or join me” I said. Then I smiled, “My last Secretary never came down here, never shared it with me ... perhaps my next Secretary will” I said, and watched the shiver run through her. Then I let go of her, turned around and dived, not as elegantly as I would have liked, into the pool. I swam backwards and forward across the relatively small pool, trying to get my erection to go down in the cool water, but it refused. So when I came back to stand just below her in the pool I was still visibly rock hard. “It’s your choice Magdalena ...head for home now and come and see me in the office next week with a job application for me to consider ...or ... Show me exactly what you have to offer a new boss” I said, smiling a little crookedly up at her, not quite sure it was really me uttering that slight touch of blackmail. I could see the struggle going on in her mind, see how much she really wanted the job, and I almost weakened ... but before I could, she placed her small handbag to one side and reached behind. The sound of her dress zip was loud in the room, and she stared at me from a flushed face as she allowed it to cascade to the floor, leaving her in just a red, satin, half bra and pants set. I felt my cock surge even harder, and my breathing became ragged as she reached behind again and unhooked her bra. She hesitated a little nervously ...and then , as she saw the expression on my face, a little provocatively ... before she brought her hands forward, easing the bra from her high, firm breasts, and letting it drop. I gasped at the beauty of her breasts, like two half oranges thrusting forward with surprisingly large, puffy nipples making them seem twice as large .. I heard myself groan, and she smiled, her confidence increasing as each moment passed. She was beautiful...and she knew it ... she was turning me on...and she knew it. She reached down and took hold of her panties .. and then hesitated, looking at me, a mischievous grin suddenly coming onto her face ... and walking over to the pool, she sat down on the side, facing me, her lower legs dangling in the water, “Wouldn’t you like to take them off for me , David” she whispered, and sent shudders right through me. As I moved slightly forward, she lifted her gorgeous legs and placed them on my shoulders, putting her hands down by her side and lifting her backside off the tiles. I groaned as I reached forward and took hold of the waist band of her panties and drew them down over her hips and buttocks until ...with a sharp gasp I was staring close up at her succulent young pussy ...totally clean shaven and glistening with wet ...and I knew she was turned on too!! I drew them forward, lifting each leg high and slipping them right off, in the process, opening her pussy lips and gazing at her beautiful pink inner walls. Then she was naked, her legs still resting on my shoulders. I leaned forward and brushed my lips over her pussy lips. feeling her shudder, hearing her moan, slipping my tongue briefly inside to taste her sweet juices. Mmm she was so succulent. Then sliding my hands behind her back and ass cheeks, I lifted her off the tiles completely, stepped back, turned around, and hurled her into the cool, refreshing water. She screamed and choked as the water cascaded into her open mouth and she came up spluttering, eyes wide, shock written all over her face. I reached out and drew her to me, pressing her naked body to mine, “Welcome to my pool” I said. She tried to strike out at me, pummeling me... “You! ..YOU! .. you could have drowned me” she squawked. I grinned, “But then I would have had to give you the kiss of life” I said, and pressed my lips to hers. Drowning any further protests .. She wriggled and squirmed, still a little angry with me...but gradually her struggles became sensuous writhings, and her angry noises became moans of passion as I stroked her body, rubbed my hard cock over her succulent pussy, kissing her deeply and passionately, my tongue engaging hers in a hot dance. Then I pulled away, smiling hotly at her, “Will your parents’ notice you aren’t home?” I asked, quietly. Her breathing was ragged, “No” she whispered, “I have a small apartment of my own attached to the house, they never come in there unless I invite them, why?” I trailed my hands down over her breasts, cupping and stroking them, rubbing my palm against those amazing, exciting puffy nipples ... “Because I intend to check your job application very carefully ... I let my hands stroke down to her pussy ... explore your resume totally ... and satisfy myself that all your references are accurate” I said. I grinned a slightly evil grin, “I did hear you say you’d do anything for the job? Didn’t I?” I whispered. A shudder ran right through her, and her eyes dilated, then she took a deep breath .. “Anything you want me to do” she whispered. I smiled, “Remember what I implied we used to do after parties? .. my wife and I?” I asked. “Yes” she whispered, and without me even having to say anything, she reached down and started to stroke my hard cock, causing me to shudder. I decided to see just how far this acquiescence of hers would go ... “Well, what she liked best was for me to slide my big cock into her ass hole as she stood holding on to the side of the pool” I said. She gasped, her eyes sweeping wide, and she gulped, “But I’ve never” she stammered. That thought excited me even more .. a virgin ass taking my cock ... I shrugged, and immediately saw the momentary flash of panic flit through her eyes, “Of course, you don’t have to” I murmured. A whole series of shivers ran through her, “But ... but .. wouldn’t it hurt?” she whispered. I nodded ..”Yes. it probably will if you’ve never done it before ... but sometimes in pain .. people find pleasure” I said, “It would undoubtedly be so tight that it would be painful for me too ... But the thought of fucking your virgin ass is turning me on like crazy” I said, deliberately being crude to shock her, and all the time I was talking, I had one hand stoking her hot little pussy and the other stroking her ass cheeks, brushing a finger occasionally down over her tight ass hole . She was shuddering and shaking under my ministrations, her mind and her body in total turmoil, each fighting against the other. But as I looked into her eyes I could see that the mind was losing ...there was a hotness and a hunger in them that was growing and growing .. and with a shuddering moan she turned away .. turned to the edge of the pool and leaned down to hold on to it, arching and stretching her body backwards lifting her ass cheeks clear of the water. Immediately my hands were on those ass cheeks stroking and cupping them, loving their firmness. I pressed forward, rubbing the stem of my cock up and down her ass crack and heard her moan again. I reached between her widespread legs and gently caressed her pussy and her clit, then slowly slid my cock into her pussy. She gasped with shock, her head snapping around, “I thought you were going to ...” she gasped. “Oh I will Magdalena, I will, but first we must get my cock all wet and juicy so it slides in better and hurts less” I said, “Any way, I want this too ...don’t you?” I said, thrusting deep, impaling her with my full cock, fucking into her tight . hot pussy. “Oh god yes!” she moaned with surprising passion, and thrust back at me, forcing me even deeper, then squirming around on my cock, “Mmmm , David, that feels so good’ she murmured, and I had to agree with her, my cock was loving the tightness of her, loving thrusting in and out of her, loving the aroma of her heightened sex, loving the hot juices oozing down over me. Mmm I could do this for ever ... But I had to know for sure...know just how far she would really go! I slid my cock backwards one more time, and this time let it slide right out and guided it with my hand upwards to her tight ass hole, and pressed forward. Magdalena Her tight elasticated hole resisted as expected, but I held my cock firmly there, pressing forward...”Oh, no, no” she squealed, “It won’t...it’s too big .. it will hurt too much” yet even as she cried out, her body was pressing back, wriggling and writhing, as if trying to screw my cock into her ...and then ... the elastic gave way just a fraction, and my cock head invaded .. and she screamed, loud ...shuddering.. “Oh god, Oh god” she cried. But I closed my ears to her cries, pressing forward, deeper and deeper into her incredibly tight, hot ass hole, until finally my balls were banging on the backs of her thighs. Then I stopped, holding myself in her ..waiting for her ass to adjust, waiting for the pain to diminish, as I knew it would, and she whimpered and moaned. I reached around and started to stroke and caress her beautiful breasts and those horny, puffy nipples, and she squirmed with the sudden pleasure, squirmed back against my cock, forcing it to move inside her, then moaned again. But this time the moan had a deeper sound .. the sound of growing passion .. and slowly, gently, I began to move inside her, fucking her tight sexy ass ...and she responded, pressing back against me, moaning and shuddering, starting to cry out, “Mmm yes, David, yes, oh yes, fuck me ... oh god it feels so good” I was amazed, it had taken my late wife at least four attempts before she found any pleasure in having her ass fucked at all. Although it had become one of her passions right to the end, and here was this sexy 20 year old taking to it like a duck to water... I sure liked her resume so far! So I stood there hip deep in the water and I fucked her ass ... and it was better, better than anything I’d experienced before .. she was crying and shuddering and calling out and I was fucking into her faster and faster ...and then I was EXPLODING ...pouring my hot juices into her ass ...and she was screaming out an orgasm too .. her legs almost collapsing beneath her as she came and came and came!! I don’t know how long we stood there afterward, my cock still firmly jammed into her ass, our breathing sounding like a runaway locomotive in the cavernous room, but finally I pulled it out, the plop sounding loud, followed by her mew of disappointment. I swam away from her to gather my breath .. and my thoughts ... this was totally crazy .. could I really consider her as a Secretary .. what would everybody say ...what would they think ...could I really keep my hands off her. I looked back, she’d pulled herself from the pool and was standing there smiling down at me ... a smile that radiated contentment ... and...she’d really loved the slight roughness of that sex...my cock stirred wildly again, and I groaned ..no...no .. I’d fought that all my life ... that part of me that got excited by things in those books and magazines and videos .. sex that wasn’t as loving and gentle as mom always told me I had to be. I climbed from the pool and walked towards her, taking her into my arms and kissing her passionately, almost brutally, feeling the wildness in her own response, and groaning inwardly. I pulled back, “What about boyfriends?” I asked, She smiled, “There was one that daddy wanted me to go with, but it finished, he couldn’t satisfy me the way I needed to be satisfied” she said, staring me straight in the eyes, “Oh, he was gentle and loving and ... But, there’s something in me that needs to be dominated ...taken...like tonight ...god, you aroused me so much” she whispered. “Take me again ... now!!” I pulled back, holding her at arms length, feeling the wildness surging up in me...all those suppressed feelings ... “You must learn to control your desires” I said, “A good Secretary, knows when to be proper .. and when to be hot” Her whole face glowed, “You mean ... I’m going to be your new Secretary?” she gasped, I smiled, “Oh, you have the perfect resume ... the perfect ass! ... the perfect pussy! ... but most of all the perfect attitude!” I said, “I know very well you will carry out my every instruction .. without question” and I turned her around and bent her over and ...well, it was a perfect ending to a perfect evening as my cock slid deep into her tight ass once more ...and she went wild!! Magdalene House CHAPTER I: SAINT & SINNER At the age of twelve Bess Scanlon was branded a whore and sent to the Sister’s of Mercy. Cast out in shame, the bloodless brides of Jesus branded her a temptress, never bound for heaven. Women who never glimpsed their wombs, who wilt the grass they walk upon and leech the light from the room, never took her into their hearts of stone. So in this heartless place of charity, the brides of Jesus beat her, to redeem her sin. Even at her tender age, Bess was just a whore. At seventeen Bess left Holy Mother Church; a mattress strapped to her soul, thinking she might as well be paid for sin. Men soon became lost in her seductive means, and before long, men of means were at her beck and call. At first she only took money; then she collected power. Power, you see, is sometimes an article left behind, like a tie or a handkerchief, and Bess soon discovered, if folded carefully and stored in a safe place, it’s more valuable than gold. At twenty-five Bess bought an old hotel, a place of prostitutes and the destitute; its primary asset was location, to one side St. Mary’s Church, to the other the Central Police Station. Fixes were made, the church, police, unions and street gangs were bought and sold to restore the old six-story brick hotel. Downstairs was a bar and four star restaurant where the powerful ate and plotted. Upstairs, dessert was served to those who could afford the exclusive menu. Boys and girls, men and older women, any shape, color or talent awaited to satisfy the powerful’s perverted appetite. At the age of thirty, Bess Scanlon was rich, her clients like blank checks waiting to be cashed as the need arose. * * * Monday, December 24 Seven days before the next thousand years. * * * Never barter a part of your heart, for despite what smooth lips may say, shame is the consequence of the trade. Bess Scanlon never heeded those words. Deaf and dumb and blind with ambition, she sold herself for Magdalene House and every Wednesday, no matter the weather or season, the judge collected. The only son of a powerful politician, he was man of consequence who every Wednesday became a pathetic “peeping tom.” It wasn’t watching which shamed Bess, it was he never took to bed. For the bedchamber was where she’d controlled and no matter the temperature of the water or the strength of the soap, shame’s seldom washed away. Wednesday evenings Bess slowly, deliberately stripped. First gown, then stockings, finally lace bra and panties. Leading him by the hand she’d enter her marbled tiled bathroom, jasmine scented candles and soft music setting the mood. He’d never say a word while removing his thousand-dollar suit, only mumble some unnoticed words between perverted breaths. Stepping into the shower Bess began to bathe, rivulets of hot water and lavender soap drifting on her firm breasts, steam saturating the room. Repeatedly washing her body, scented soapsuds circling the drain, she’d sense his masturbation on the other side of the shower glass. He never uttered a sound, until whimpering at climax, like a child who’d lost his mother in a crowded department store. Then, without a word he’d dress and leave. Bess always choose whom she’d take to her bed, according service performed. Sex was only a means to the end. The judge bestowed no power nor left any gold, only indignity without end. After he left Bess continued showering, using hard working man’s soap. Scrubbing her soft white skin red to remove shame, her only consolation being the new linens, beige, soft, oversized, tight knit and on them printed in gold, “Magdalene House”. Toweling herself dry Bess was careful where she stepped, avoiding blemishes of semen on the imported marble floor; generations not conceived left for the morning maid. “Sick son of bitch”, she thought fixing her hair, wearing only a towel around her frame. “Some day someone’s going to teach him a lesson. I just hope I’m there to see it.” Blowing out the candles, Bess thought the night’s early yet. Tonight she’d write a long letter to the person she loved, a personal Christmas wish enclosed. She never saw the dark shadow in the bedroom corner, never felt quick and sharp blow to her head, then falling to the floor. It was pain conspired with the stench of blood which returned reality. A stench similar to a salty, old, musty, marsh; like a stale sinkhole in dark wet woods. It was a fragrance she knew well. “Oh Christ... No... Not here.... Not now... Not him”, were her thoughts as time once again began to tick in her head. The once white clean room was red with blood. Stumbling to her feet like a person in a windstorm her body was streaked with blood, her prized whit linen lay nearby ripped and red. Blood covered and nude, slipping on the wet floor, a hurricane in her head Bess staggered to the door mumbling, “Jimmy? Please, Jimmy. Help.” Then swallowing hard, supporting herself along the wall, her soiled hands making childish red finger paintings on the white painted surface; she cleared her throat, gathering the steel of a whore and screamed, “Jimmy, get your ass up here.” “Yeah Bess, I’m coming, give me a minute ... Hang on a sec,” yelled Jimmy slowly making his way down the hallway. Jimmy was a man trusted in Magdalene House. Caring more for drugs than sex, Jimmy looked after the girls, the rooms and the linens. Old, bald, dirty and dressed shabbily, Jimmy entered finding Bess leaning against the wall. For a little moment he never spoke, just stared in disbelief at the sight beheld. “Holy shit! Bess, what the fuck happened? Bess ... You didn’t?” “No, Jimmy. I’d never do something like this. You know if I kill it’d be neat and clean and not here. Someone knocked me out and made this mess ... this mess of the Judge.” “Bess? What’a we gonna do? Ahhh, Bess we’re in deep shit now. Of all people, the Judge.” “Calm down Jimmy. Think ... just think a minute. Get me my robe while I figure what to do.” Grabbing the white robe from Jimmy, throwing it on her shoulders Bess again to speak. “Okay Jimmy ... okay. Here’s what we do. Go to the rooms, calmly ... real calmly ...tell the girls to get rid of their customers. Then, go down to the bar. Get Sam and tell him to close down. Keep it low key. Won’t be many around tonight, being Christmas Eve. Do it Jimmy, and keep your mouth shut about what you seen here. Don’t tell anyone. Not even Sam. I’ve got calls to make. You got it? When you’re done get back up here.” “Got it Bess. I’ll do what you say. But ... Geez Bess, this mess, him gettin killed like this.” “Jimmy do as I say. Now get going and on the way back up bring some ice; my head’s killing me.” “Okay Bess. Anything you say. But I tell ya we‘re in deep shit now.” Said Jimmy wobbling down the hallway, still mumbling about the circumstances, as Bess started making calls; thinking through her splitting head, “Why here? Why in my place?” * * * Mister Thomas was just about to unwrap his Christmas present from the Judge when the phone rang. She was fifteen, blond and firm breasted, and arrested for standing on the wrong street under the right lamp post. Sentenced by the now dead Judge to be a seasonal gift, she was one of the fringe benefits of Mr. Thomas’s job. To most in the city his name was Mister Thomas but to the powerful he was “hanger on, opportunist and fixer”, who was simply addressed as Tommy. The Judge was up for re-election and Tommy was the man to get the election won, the man who made the fixes and the deals, so the election was in the bag before the first ballot was cast. Tommy Thomas and the Judge had plans. Two years from now the real prize, Governor; then maybe after a respectable amount of time, a shot at national office. After all, the Judge was only thirty-seven and a good family man. It was all within their grasp if only Tommy kept “the fix” going. Meantime Tommy intended on enjoying the Judge’s Christmas present. But the phone kept ringing, then the voice on the answering machine. “Tommy it’s Bess. I know your there, pick up God damn it! Get your ass over here right away, something’s happened to the Judge." “Okay honey, were done for tonight”, were Tommy’s words. “Get out and don’t come back.” Maneuvering through the cold Christmas Eve night to Magdalene House all Tommy thought was, “This better be good. That son of a bitch. Shit, gives me that girl and then takes it away, going on one of his binders.” * * * Detective Halloran was also unwrapping his Christmas present, a can of soup when his phone rang. Not many called him “Detective, Sir, Cop or Kevin”, most addressed him as Halloran. He lived alone in a one-bedroom walk up, which he shared with the ghosts of family and friends, lost to whiskey, women and death. A can of soup, a cheap bottle of whiskey followed by Internet chat room was his Christmas Eve plan. Halloran answered on the second ring. “Okay .... Okay ... Calm down Bess. Take it easy. I’ll be right there. Don’t let anyone in. I’ll get the right boys to handle the job." * * * “And a Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight. Now children it’s bed time." the mother spoke to her three squirming children. “Where’s Daddy? We want Daddy! We want to stay up for Daddy and Santa!” the children pleaded as Maria, their nanny tried to usher her charges to their beds. Their Mother appeared impatient by her children, sometimes she love them with all her soul, other times they seemed to be props for photo-ops for her husband’s political career. Yet she too had ambition and although tonight was Christmas Eve she only wished them to bed. “Now children you know Daddy works hard, putting the bad men in jail. He’ll be here in the morning when you get up and see what Santa Clause brought you. Be good and go with Maria. Sweet dreams my loves." Disappointed, their father not being home, her two boys and little girl trudged with hard steps up the grand staircase of the mansion followed by the nanny. Ignoring her children’s disappointment, she wandered into the den for a drink. She knew where “Daddy” was, he was with his whores. Years ago, when first in love their names were Darling and Love, but those nights were past. Last born Judy, that sweet innocent little girl was more a product of violence than love. Her father now considered her a political prop, after all the photo-ops were enhanced with three young children with their loving, religious father. He had polls which told him so. Since four-year-old Judy was conceived, they hadn’t made love but she didn’t care, having no desire for him. His name was lost to the river of life, now he was branded “The Judge”. To most, the woman in the expensive evening gown was know as Mrs. Murphy, to friends Mary, but when she looked in the mirror her given name was “Whore”. Taking a long, strong swallow of Crown Royal, staring at the burning crackling logs in large marble fireplace, Mary’s thoughts wandered to love. Like a child longing Santa, she desired that special person who held her tight at night. The one with whom she’d cry and laugh over old movies and jokes. The person with whom she sit in bed, drinking coffee and eating sweets. The one who pointed out the beauty of the flowers in spring. She yearned to hear her voice, but it was too early, her place wasn’t close yet. She’d call later and maybe tomorrow steal away to see her; if only for a few minutes. Mary Murphy would see Bess Scanlon tomorrow, if just for a few minutes. * * * When Tommy arrived at Magdalene House there was a crowd of reporters, cops and bystanders standing outside the front entrance. The midnight winter air was crowded with winter snow and rumors. Entering through the back alley service entrance he knew something “big” was happening and making his way through the kitchen, up the back stairs he overheared people saying. “Jesus Christ, what a blood bath. Sure must have been one sick son of a bitch to do that. Really must have suffered. Shitty way to die." All Tommy could think was, “Shit ... did the Judge get out of control and kill a whore?” Arriving at the top floor Tommy met ashen complicated Halloran standing in the hallway outside the crime scene room. “Christ Halloran! You look terrible, been out on one of your binders again? Once a drunk always a drunk. This better be good to get me out on Christmas Eve. Where’s the Judge?” “He’s in there,“ Halloran said pointing to the room off the hallway. “But I’m tell ya it’s a scene. Worst I’ve ever saw. Tommy hope you got an empty stomach, it’s a mess in there." “Shut up and get out of my way,” said Tommy, pushing Halloran aside. “I need to talk to the Judge. Keep everyone out of here till I get him outt’a here." Tommy had no idea before he entered the room, no idea how much blood a human body contained. The once white painted room was red, the dead Judge lay on the bed. His arms and feet bound to the post of the bed; throat cut so deep that with one quick jerk his head pop off. The white, fat Judge’s torso was slit from crotch to sternum. His internal organs, heart, lungs, liver and stomach thrown against the wall. The heater in the room was still set high, which enhanced the coagulation and stench of flesh and blood. Harsh fluorescent overhead lights left no detail unseen, the blood covered floor was like a snow covered field, testifying every footstep. Most gruesome was the little Christmas tree on the table in the corner of the room. A concession to the season by the normally cheap Bess, all the rooms contained a small Christmas tree. “Make the customers think of the season and leave a little something extra," was the logic behind this decoration. The two-foot innocent Christmas tree was something from hell because over the tinsel and colored lights the Judge’s intestines were wrapped like garland. The hot blue, red and white lights were baking his intestines as little puffs of cooked human flesh smoke rose above the tree. Grasping the horror, Tommy turned and vomited on the floor. Thinking he’d collapse, turning to leave the room above the doorway he witness a bloody mad man’s scrawl pronouncing, “Come Jesus!” Standing in the hallway, watching Halloran smiled as Tommy staggered, ashen white from the room. He knew it! That cocky son of a bitch puked, he only regretted not seeing it. “Told you it was a mess.” “Fuck you Halloran! You should’a said something before I went in there. You set me up. Where’s Bess? She’s got some God damn explaining to do!” was his abrupt response, wiping his mouth with a white handkerchief, forcing himself from gagging again. Halloran, leaning against the wall only pointed and said, “In her office, she’s expecting you." He almost felt sorry for Thomas, not because of the death of the Judge, but Bess. Tommy was no match for Bess Scanlon. Halloran known her better than fifteen years; she a street whore, he a cop who walked a beat. He’d always admired her intelligence, honesty, and looks. Maybe if things were different they could have been more than friends, but that was wishful thinking. How could a woman with her talents ever consider an aged cop. He never communicated his admiration, being too ashamed thinking she’d reject his advances. Turning from watching Thomas walk to her office door Halloran took control of the crime scene. “Okay boys let’s get the crime lab in here and get it cleaned up. Better hurry or the Judge’s guts are going to barbecue on the tree. Oh yeah! That puke on the floor? Isn't the murderers, it’s Thomas; the big shot. See, they puke and shit just like us poor folks.” The crime scene technicians laughed nervously, making sick jokes while going about their work. None ever seen a murder this gruesome and some wondered. “How long it’d be till Bess was arrested and the best whorehouse in the state would close. After this happening the Senator destroy her. Too bad, but after all Bess was just a whore.” *** Tommy didn’t knock before he entered, men like him don’t bother knocking on a whore’s door. Magdalene House was six stories of mostly small bedrooms. The top floor was private with only one large bedroom and larger office. Few men were privileged to be allowed on the sixth floor. Entering, Tommy Thomas was unprepared for her office, large in scale, bathed in soft lamplight; it spoke of wealth, power and intelligence. Gleaming hardwood floors accented by oriental rugs. Mahogany paneled walls, collectable oil paintings, bookshelves contained the works Shakespeare, Bryan, Keats, Shelly, Hemingway, Faulkner. From the white plaster ceiling hung a cut crystal chandlers. The furniture was classic and upholstered with leather and crushed velvet. Set in the corner a large mahogany desk, on it a small lap top computer, pen and a drink in crystal glass. The corner behind the desk was floor to ceiling smoked glass which afforded a view to the main entrance of the next door church. Tommy immediately realized he was dealing with the worst possible person, a whore with intelligence, power and money. “Bess, God damn it. What the hell happened here tonight!” was his greeting. Bess looking from the computer screen, a reaction of interruption in her voice said, “Didn’t Halloran fill you in?” Dressed in faded jeans, t-shirt, no make up, hair tied in a ponytail, she despite her attire conveyed supremacy. Power was her currency, her life and sometimes her only love and she counted it well. “Yeah he did ... But I want to hear it from you. You're supposed to run a high-class place here. A safe place! These things aren’t suppose to happen at Magdalene House. How’d some nut get to the Judge on a private floor and do that? It’s like a slaughterhouse in there! And you mind telling me where the hell were you? Probably passed out drunk, typical whore.” “You know better Thomas. I never lose control. I don’t get drunk with men. I fuck them.” “You mean to tell me you didn’t see or hear anything? Christ, how the hell am I going to tell Mary and the press! Shit ... they’re gonna have a fucking field day with this! Then the Senator! What the hell am I gonna tell him?” “How about the truth Thomas. That’d be a change”, she said not looking up from her computer. Confident, cocky and horny Tommy Thomas was shaken. His candidate was dead in the worst possible way, in the worst possible place. He worried that his career was as dead as the Judge. Bess never looked at Tommy speaking his complaint, she’d heard them before from little men like Thomas. Decisively gazing into his eyes, taking a sip from her drink, she then spoke in the low voice of guard to prisoner. “Tommy? I’m tired and my head hurts. Get the details from Halloran. As for me, I was cold cocked. Who’d do this? Fuck if I know and I don’t give a shit. I do care he was killed in my place. Someone is gonna pay for that. And little man, if that someone is you? If you set this up to have this done at my place I’ll be only too happy to make sure you pay in full.” Bess’s cold steel brown eyes cut into Tommy’s soul, she was colder than any political boss. “She must cry tears of stone“, he thought. “Bess? Who killed the Judge? Hell if I know. That family, the Senator and the Judge had so many enemies it could have been one of a hundred people. But killed like that, cut open, gutted like a fish that’s just plain sick Ah hell! ... It’s late, nothing much is going to be settled tonight. I got’a call the Senator. I told Halloran to keep me informed on the investigation. If you find anything out call me at my private number. You have it right? Oh! ... By the way Merry Christmas.” “Yeah I got your number. I’ve got everyone’s private number. Close the door on the way out.” Just before he reached the door Tommy heard Bess speak for the last time but this time in a louder voice. Magdalene House “Thomas get this. I’m not one of your lackeys. From now on when you come to my office you knock first. Barge in here again and I’ll have Sam make sure you knock on doors with your feet after he gets through with you. Oh yeah a Merry fucking Christmas to you too.” Stopping to look over his shoulder to the steel woman her desk, Tommy knew he’d been bested. When this affair was settled one of them would be damaged. Bess appreciated Thomas was a treacherous man. He’d turn on his own father to further his greed. cheating to gain advantage in a stock deal, leaving his dad broke and Tommy rich. “What a sick son of a bitch. Hope someday he’ll end up dead like the Judge.” she thought, taking a last sip of her drink. Standing, absently staring beyond her office windows, watching snow flakes floating in the black winter night, Bess dismissed Tommy Thomas as a weak little man. Her mind was consumed in searching for the correct words for the only person she’d ever loved. The person whose husband was killed in her bed tonight. How to compose the fitting message to Mary Murphy, the wife of Judge Murphy. Mary know how, she’s the one who loved letters and words. Bess loved numbers, she could add a column of numbers quicker than a machine, but prose and verse were beyond her grasp. Turning, pouring another Courvoisier, swirling the liquor in the crystal cognac glass, staring at books neatly stacked on the shelves, the ache in her heart replaced the one in her head. It was Mary who found and read those books. Bess was too busy being a whore, selling her soul for Magdalene House. The next door bells of Saint Mary’s church began tolling, summoning the faithful to midnight mass. Below her six floor window families with Santa Claus anxious children were entering the church. Sometimes Bess scrutinized the churchgoers with curiosity, other times with envy. The world thought her cold unless paying for her attentions, then she was lover, sweetie or darling, until the clock ran out. But the world was wrong Bess did love, but from afar. It was the soft knock on her office door which awoke Bess’s shame, not the deafen church bells. “Come in Jimmy." She knew his soft, gentle knock. “Bess? ... It’s me Bess. Gees Bess ... Don’t you ever get sick of those damn bells? They practically shake this place they’re so loud." “Nah. Sometimes I actually I like them. They remind me of? Well they just remind me. Funny ain’t it? Me, liking those Goddamn bells. Halloran gone?” “Yeah they’re all cleaned up. Halloran said he get back to ya later. Hauled the Judge off in a bag. You know his head fell off when they bagged him up. Never did like that Judge. He was mean Bess, mean to you and Mary. You Okay Bess? How’s your head? Need anything?” “I’m Okay. Thanks Jimmy. Halloran really helped out tonight, he’s a good man.” For a moment her thoughts turned to Kevin. She’d known him since he was a beat cop and she a teenage streetwalker. Kevin, although twenty years older he was her knight in rusty armor, more than once he’d pulled the strings or swung the night stick to protect. He, besides Jimmy was the only man she respected, the only man she could love. Setting her drink on the desk Bess put her arm around Jimmy, to kiss on his rough, dirty unshaven cheek while whispering through her soft lips, “By the way Merry Christmas, I got you a little something. It’s there under the table. The box with the white wrapping.” “Geez thanks Bess. You shouldn’t have. Sorry I didn’t get you anything. Forgot all about Christmas." Ripping open the package and seeing the contents Jimmy’s eyes glowed and his veins quivering in relish. Insides were syringes, needles, a gold spoon and most prized a large bag of white powdered heroin. “Damn! Thanks Bess! Best present I ever got, ya knew just what I wanted." “Be careful with that junk Jimmy. It’s only been stepped on twice so just use half you do normally or you’ll end up dead.” For a brief moment she reached around and embraced his frail body to relish the touch of an innocent human being. “Merry Christmas, Jimmy." She said giving him a light kiss on his unshaven cheek. “Thanks Bess. Hey Bess! With all the people still milling around, you mind if I shoot up here?” “Nah go ahead. I don’t mind.” Bess didn’t judge his affection, after all Jimmy was a broken man. “You want some Bess? After tonight it might help ya.” Like a child with a Christmas toy which he couldn’t wait to enjoy, Jimmy with quivering hands quickly cooked his fix. “No Jimmy, you know liquors my only vice. Go ahead and enjoy yourself. You deserve it, you did a good job tonight.” Watching Jimmy shoot up, then lying back on the velvet couch Bess observed the glow of heroin pumping in his veins. She’d seen this glow other times before, when men had orgasms or counted money. Picking up her drink she wondered how much longer Jimmy live and what’d she do when he died. Jimmy’s heroin was like winter’s snow, marking time until his demise. “Jimmy you got any ideas how this shit happened tonight? Any ideas at all? I don‘t care how crazy?” “Nah Bess. Been thinking all night. Been thinking, how in the hell did anyone get past Sam and me to do that? Everyone who goes upstairs gets that special pass to open the security doors. Nothing’s broken, no forced doors; I even checked the roof door locks. Nothing touched, everything’s all in place. I just can’t figure it out.” “Jimmy when you told the girls to get rid of their customers, did you notice anything unusual?” “Nope. Nothing Bess. Everything was normal. Was a slow night, Christmas Eve and all you know. Only a few of the girls had customers. That new girl had one. What’s her name? Sally? Oh yeah, that Sally, she had a customer. She’s weird Bess. I went in her room and there she is naked kneeling at her bed. Almost like she was praying.” “Was her customer still there?” “Think so. The shower was running. All I could see from the door was the shower door. Lot’s of steam, hard to tell exactly, but there was a black shape in the shower. So I guess it was him. Besides you said keep it quiet so I just told her to quick get rid of the guy. Then I went down to Sam.” “Did you see all the customers leave Jimmy”? “Saw most of them leave, but not all. Got busy with Sam. Letting the cops in, and watching to make sure those clowns didn’t steal anything or try to buy a girl without going through the house. Can’t trust those cops you know, they’re thieves with the law.” Jimmy was right about the cops stealing the law; thanks to the likes of the Judge, justice in the city was sold to the highest bidder. High on heroin Jimmy continued mumbling about crooked cops while Bess covered him with a blanket. “Let him sleep“, she thought. “Jimmy should know about the law“. Once he was the best lawyer in town; until the Murphy’s took his practice, family and honor, leaving only shame. Some men crawl in a bottle to forget, Jimmy decided to inject his veins. There’s little difference between the two, both are designed to shorten time. Bess delayed long enough and after a few drinks with Jimmy still sleeping on the couch she sat at her large mahogany desk, turned on her e-mail and began to type. “Mary .... I’m ashamed to tell you but Joe was killed here tonight. Killed in my bed. We need to talk. Can you meet me at our usual spot tomorrow? It’s been so long. Please Mary. Love .... Bess” Leaning back in her large leather chair, taking a last sip of cognac, Bess touched the send button on her e-mail, wondering how’d Mary take the news. “Going to go crash Bess. I’m beat”, came a voice from the darkened office. Without her realizing Jimmy awoke from his drug induced slumber and was standing in front of her desk. “Night Jimmy, sleep well”, absent minded Bess responded, still looking at the computer screen. “Get some rest. We’re going to stay close tomorrow, Christmas you know. If you need anything, help yourself from the kitchen.” “Thanks, but I don’t eat much lately. But tomorrow ... Oh shit! Bess, I’m sorry. I forgot it’s your birthday isn't it. Happy Birthday Bess. How old are you now?” “That’s okay Jimmy. I almost forgot myself. I never remember my birthday much anymore. Doesn’t seem so important, like it ever was. Yep, born on Christmas, just like Jesus. Hit the big-three-o this time. Never remembered it much though, them nuns always reminded me it was selfish of me to even consider myself on such a day. Like it was a sin or something. Like I had a choice of the day I was born. Like I had a choice about anything.” “Nonsense Bess ... you’re the best. Better than them nuns, any day of the week. Thirty years old? Shit Bess you still look like a teenager. Best body in town, best woman in town. Them nuns might have treated you like a sinner, but your a saint. Yep, you’re more a saint than any of them people in the church next door. And the best looking saint I’ve ever seen too. Could be a model, Bess. You’d could be model sure as shit ... thirty or not.” Grinning, as he spoke, his teeth yellow and broken, Jimmy, turned and with a stumbling walk left her office, leaving her alone in her room of power and wealth. Power and wealth are poor companions on silent nights. Family beyond her capacity, Bess was neither saint nor sinner but just a whore. The End of Chapter 1