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Asphodel's

By: voluptuary_manque



"Cornwall's, Merry Christmas."

"And a Merry Christmas to you, too, Andrew. It's Camellia, darling. How are you and yours?"

"Camellia, what a surprise. We're going very well, thank-you, and how are things at the Trevethlyn's?"

"Just lovely, thanks." There was a pause, "Andy, I was talking to Poppy last night and she told me that she and your dear Steven have never gotten past heavy petting. It seems that the farthest they've ever gone was a hand job or two. I thought you might want to know?"

"No! Oh dear, eighteen years old and they're both still virgins? Good Lord, who'd have thought?"

"I know. Surprising, isn't it? Whatever is wrong with the current generation, I sometimes wonder. Anyway, because she's still a virgin I'm going to start her on pompoir exercises after the New Year so that by June she will be fully trained."

"Are you? What an excellent idea. You know, Jane and I were wondering what to give the boy for graduation. A full course in tantric control might be just the ticket?"

"Really? Hmmm—Asphodel's doesn't usually accept clients as young as he is. The assumption is that young men will make their own arrangements but it does make a certain amount of sense. At least that way he won't have to unlearn anything. And of course it would be all for Poppy's benefit—eventually. I wonder about the ethics of it, though. I mean, should I be training my daughter's fiancé?"

"For that matter, should I be sampling my future daughter? Presuming she and Steve continue to restrain themselves until they graduate Poppy will be a very expensive 'date' when June comes. I mean—a pompoir-trained virgin? Pricey!"

"You bet she will be and you can be sure I'm already thinking along those lines, my dear Andrew. Jane may have to put in some overtime to pay for your dalliance. Either that or you're going to have to win a very big case."

"That much? But you know, Jane might just do that since my birthday is June twentieth. Not that it would bother her to spend more time 'at work' whatever the reason. I'll talk to her on both subjects, sweetheart. Have Axel kiss you for me and I'll see you next Wednesday."

"Smooches, Andy. Pinch Janey for me. Bye, now."

*****

Poppy Trevethlyn kicked off her galoshes and hung her coat in the mud room. Then she stomped into the kitchen, sat down at the breakfast bar and rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Boys!"

Camellia raised her head from the roast she was basting. "Mmm?"

"Mom, where is Asphodel's?"

Her mother raised an eyebrow with a half smile. "Asphodel's? It's the sixth floor of the Hotel Gentian, right across the street from the capitol building."

Poppy froze. She looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Why do I just know I'm going to wish I hadn't asked this? Mother, what is Asphodel's?"

Camellia put down the basting brush and reached up into the cupboard. Her smile broadened as she took down two mugs, filled them with coffee, slid one across to her daughter and sat on the stool next to her. 

"Asphodel's is the oldest, most reputable and most expensive bordello in the state. Why do you ask?"

"I knew it, I just knew it," Poppy muttered under her breath. Aloud she continued, "A bunch of Steve's friends are talking about going to Asphodel's after the grad prom."

Camellia snorted. "In their dreams! I'll bet they don't even know where it is and even if they did they couldn't get there. One must have a key to open the elevator on the sixth floor and the stairwell door only opens from the inside. Besides, none of them can possibly afford it. A trip to Asphodel's costs a minimum of five hundred dollars and since I'm sure what they want is to get laid good and proper, it would be a thousand or more. Fat chance of that."

Poppy spewed coffee all over the counter. "Mom! How do you know that?"

Her mother sipped the hot coffee and winked conspiratorially. "Because we own it, or should I say, your grandmother owns it."

The girl was dumbfounded. After several tries she finally managed to squeak, "Grandma?"

"Mm-hm. And her mother before her and so on clear back to your thrice great-grandmother Asphodel, the one it's named after. You see, dear, over a hundred years ago your thrice great-grandfather Alonzo died of pneumonia leaving Asphodel a widow with two small children. He'd been a successful merchant but had encored considerable debt in an attempt to expand his business. Asphodel was able to pay off all the indebtedness but had to sell off most of his holdings to do so. By the time she was free and clear all she owned was their home. Admittedly it was a large one but she didn't have the money to pay for enough staff to run it.

She might have turned it into a boarding house. That would have been a proper thing for a widow of the time to do but instead she moved with the kiddies into a smaller house and turned hers into a house of assignation, that's a place where people having affairs can meet discretely. All she had to do was make sure the sheets were cleaned after each couple left. It was quite profitable, given that legislators often had (and still have) mistresses in the capitol when they are far from home."

"And later she turned it into a brothel? I'm shocked."

"No, later she bought a small hotel and turned it into a brothel. She moved back into the house. Unlike many of her contemporaries she didn't spend all the money she made on high living. Instead she bought property. When her daughter took over the business she bought railway stock and more income property.  Her daughter bought oil and auto stock and even more property and so on. But the only business we ever actually run is Asphodel's and each of them, or should I say of us, has learned the business from the mattress up."

Poppy took a while to digest that. "Mother, I'm descended from six generations of . . .?"

"We like the word courtesan, darling. When a man is paying as much as we charge, it's way beyond whoredom. And yes you are. That's how I paid for college. That's how we all pay for college. Sure, Mama could have afforded to send me but earning your way through school flat on your back has become traditional."

"Does—does Daddy know?"

"Of course he does. We met there. I know you aren't aware of this but your father swings both ways and as a poor boy on the make, working Asphodel's was how he paid for college. He doesn't now, of course, he's too busy running the foundation. But once you children were old enough to spend the whole day in school I went back to work. I do the lunch shift because it is one of the busiest times of the day. There aren't many jobs a woman can clear a couple of thousand dollars between eleven and one, you know."

"Daddy. Swings. Both ways?"

"Yes. Of course now when he wants some cock he goes to his club where his like-minded friends all hang out. That's his way of getting a little variety just as working at Mama's place is mine. It obviously isn't the money, Poppy, not after six generations of intelligent investment. I do it for fun and getting paid is part of the fun."

*****

Poppy sat on her bed, her head in her hands. It had been too much information. And she knew where it was leading. With six generations of 'working women' behind her there was no way she was going to avoid working her way through college flat on her back—or on her hands and knees or reverse cowgirl or any other of the many positions people had sex in. I'm a hereditary whore. She needed to talk to someone about it but who? Ordinarily she would call her patient, tolerant grandmother O'Malley but it was Grandma who was at the root of the problem. Maybe if she called Grandmother Trevethlyn? No, not Nona. She was so proud that her son had pulled himself up by the bootstraps that it would be just rotten to tell her what some of that had entailed. On the other hand her Aunt Cora, her father's sister, had gone to college on a softball scholarship and was now a prominent attorney in the capitol. A much better choice. She popped open her cell phone.

"Auntie Cora?"

"Well, hello Poppy. What can I do for you?"

"I need to talk to someone."

"And your mother won't do?"

"Talking to my mother is why I have to talk to someone, Auntie."

"Mm?"

"She wants me to start practicing exercises—to learn pompoir, Auntie."

There was a chuckle on the other end of the conversation. "That's a very good skill for a young woman and one that's not easy to learn. I wish I had time to study it, myself, but I hear it takes about six months to develop the strength and coordination. Did she say why she wanted you to learn it?"

"Well—not exactly. But she told me some other things and I'm afraid I know where this is leading."

Cora laughed out loud. "This is about the family firm, isn't it?"

Poppy gasped in disbelief. "You know about it?"

"Honey, I'm a lobbyist. Everyone in state politics knows about Asphodel's. Shoot, girl, I've been laid there myself a couple of times."

The silence was long. "You got laid at Asphodel's?"

"Sweetie, like I told you. I'm a lobbyist. And there are times when the chair of the Senate finance committee won't be swayed by campaign contributions, good booze or just any pussy, she wants mine. If that's what it takes to get a bill through I can muff dive with the best of them."

"Wait, the Finance Chair is a lesbian? I thought she was all about pride in her family and shit like that."

"She is. However, now and again she likes something a little different. I'm the different. It gives me an edge over male lobbyists and all's fair in politics."

Poppy thought about this for a while. "But you want to be in politics, Auntie. I don't. I just want to go to college, get my credential and teach kindergarten. I don't want anything to do with politics or with my grandmother's business."

"That, young lady, is where you are dead wrong. Have you any idea how powerful your grandmother is, politically? Remember last year when the majority and minority leaders where having a very personal spat over the budget? And it looked like it wouldn't get passed for months, leaving the state treading water and the schools unfunded? And then suddenly all was love and kisses and the budget passed? Have you any idea why that happened?"

"Uh—yes, I remember and no, I don't know what happened."

"Your grandmother Azalea quietly called each of them and said that if the state shut down she'd close Asphodel's until the budget was passed. And not only would she close up shop, she'd go on television and say why, naming names and giving dates."

"But—but that's blackmail."

"No, Poppy, it's politics. Now, I have a client on call waiting so I'm going to have to hang up. We can talk any time, dear. 'Bye, Poppy."

*****

The following Wednesday Camellia closed the door to her room and pushed the "Do Not Disturb" switch. She turned languidly and slid the satin robe off her shoulders and raised her chin. She held the pose long enough to give her client a good look and dropped the robe over the back of a chair. She stepped forward and put her arms around his neck drawing him down for a long, deep, swallowing and probing kiss. When it was over she leaned back.

"Good morning, Mr. Cornwall." She undid the watch chain from his vest and tucked it into the pocket next to the watch. What tales that time piece could tell! Cornwall men had been clients at Asphodel's ever since it opened and that watch had been handed down from father to son for six generations. She patted it fondly and continued to undo the vest. Andrew reached into his coat pocket and handed her a fat envelope. She looked at the symbol on the front. It said today he wanted conversation and missionary sex and counted the bills inside. Everything was in order.

As she helped him out of his coat and undid his tie she looked up at him. "You know, Mr. Cornwall, I've been giving it some thought. I believe I will take personal charge of Steven's training. There's something so deliciously semi-incestuous about getting fucked by one's future son that it is positively irresistible."

"Now don't get me started on thoughts like that," Cornwall smiled as he ran his thumbs gently under her nipples. "You'll have me wanting to put down a deposit on Poppy's first trick, as right of first refusal to use the legal term for something technically illegal."

Camellia's nipples stood up straight and the tingle reached her pussy. She shuddered and licked her lips. "Wait a bit on that, sir. We don't know that the kids will be able to resist each other for another six months. However, I will teach her how to give good head. That should keep Stevie satisfied for a while. And if it does, I'll let you know in time. Mother and I have discussed this. Since Poppy's just the prettiest little thing her well trained virginity will be priced at around forty thousand dollars. After all, she is the Asphodel-in-waiting."

She moaned as he bent down and sucked one nipple while twisting the other. His style greatly resembled her husband Axel's and she wondered if they had ever done each other. It seemed unlikely. There was never any subliminal heat between the men when the families got together and twenty years of sex work had made Camellia very good at detecting such things.

Andrew undid his trousers and dropped them to the Persian carpet along with his silk boxers. He lifted her easily off the floor and carried her over to the canopied and veiled four poster. He inspected the tethers that hung from the headboard but decided against them. Not that he couldn't afford the extra charge but today he wanted talk with his nooky. He kicked his socks off and lay next to her.

Camellia rolled on top of him for another long, wet kiss. She reached down and began stroking his cock. "Some evening when the kids are out, the four of us ought to get together the way we did back in college, Mr. Cornwall. Jane and I could put on a show for you and Mr. Trevethlyn and then the two of you could have your way with us. It might keep your mind off Poppy's pert little boobs and ass for a while."

Cornwall held her close with one arm while the other clutched her butt. "Are you kidding? As much as Poppy resembles her mother all it will do is give me more incentive to pay that forty grand. I look at the pictures in the upstairs lobby and I'm amazed at how much the Asphodel women's looks have carried down through the generations. You're only one-sixty-fourth of the first one but the two of you could be sisters. And so could Poppy!"

Camellia ground her hips against him and reached up for the condom package on the night stand. Even with clients who were also old and trusted friends, house rules were house rules. She ripped it open and tucked the roll against her pursed lips. Leaning down she put it over the head of his cock and with an easy motion slid it all the way to the base. That was one trick Poppy was going to learn soon, she thought as she worked her throat muscles, squeezing and teasing him. She lifted her head and leaned back, spreading her thighs as she did, then moaned softly as he entered her. She sank her nails into his back and reveled in the warm weight pressing down on top of her, the turgid mass sliding in and out of her. "Ah, Mr. Cornwall, you are always such a good fit. Now, shut up, sir. Just fuck me. We can talk later. Oh, Poppy will just love this."

*****

Her mother's Mercedes purred down the street with a very anxiety-ridden Poppy in the passenger seat. The trip down-town from their home in the suburbs could not take too long as far as she was concerned. Her mind drifted to last night's conversation.

"Mom," she had begun, "have you any idea what this will do to my life? If Steve ever finds out—worse yet, if his parents ever find out, I'll be a pariah!"

Camellia smiled benignly. "Honey, Andrew Cornwall has been a client of mine for ten years and Jane occupies the room next to mine on Tuesdays and Thursdays. She's one of Daddy's favorites. We used to get together and swap informally before you kids came along and I'm thinking we should resume that. After all, what Andy pays me is just turned around and paid back to Jane. Why even bother with money?"

It had seemed to Poppy that it was at least five minutes before she could speak again. "Jane? Jane and Daddy? You and Andy? What? Is this entire town one huge orgy?"

That had made her mother guffaw. "No, it's not and we're not going to talk about this anymore tonight where your younger siblings can hear. However, tomorrow I'm taking you out of school and we're going down town. It's high time you toured Asphodel's in person."

Poppy tried to imagine what Asphodel's could be like as Camellia's car turned down the driveway and into the underground garage of the Hotel Gentian. That seemed perfectly normal but when she got to the end of aisle, instead of turning to go look for a place, Ms. Trevethlyn swiped a key card and a pair of large doors opened in front of them. A young man in a tuxedo opened the driver's door with a bow and then dashed around to let Poppy out.

"Good Morning, Juan." Camellia handed the valet her car keys.

"Buenos dias, Señora Trevethlyn. You are a little early today, no?"

"Yes, I am. But I'm not working today, Juan. I'd like you to meet my daughter Poppy. Poppy this is Juan Costada, the head valet."

Juan bowed deeply and Poppy blushed. "Con mucho gusto," he intoned.

"Uh, el gusto is mio," Poppy replied properly, despite a terrible American accent. Still blushing she took her mother's proffered arm. They walked to the elevator as Juan drove off to park the car. 

When the doors opened, Poppy could see that there were only five buttons for the floors above but her mother nonchalantly took out a key and fitted it into the lock above the top button. The doors closed smoothly and the car zipped up to the sixth floor. There the doors opened again to reveal Azalea O'Malley, elegantly clad in a Chanel original suit.

"Darlings," Grandmother exclaimed, "your timing is exquisite. The tea has been steeping just long enough. Come sit down."

A boyish but well muscled young man poured their tea and faded into the background. Poppy looked at her grandmother. "Is that the bouncer?"

"Good heavens, no! Asphodel' doesn't need a bouncer. We do background checks on all prospective clients and if they have the slightest inclination to rowdy drunkenness they never get invited. All the lobbyists know that, as well, as does the entire legislature. And any new assemblyman or Senator with overly kinky taste? We know about it early and they get a quiet little note letting them know what the limits are here. We do have a dungeon in the subbasement below the parking lot but it hardly ever gets used. Once people find out how much that kind of play costs they make their own arrangements—elsewhere! No, dear, Clarence is the barman—usually."

"I get it, Grandma. Clarence is the barman for all the straight clients but if a gay guy shows up . . .?"

"Indeed. Or if a lonely lady comes in. That does happen periodically."

"Like Daddy was?" Poppy's smile was overly bright.

"Yes, little smart alec, like your father was." Azalea's expression was serene but her voice had an edge.

Abashed, Poppy sipped her tea in silence while Camellia and Azalea discussed adult things like cash flow, depreciation on the hotel and health insurance for the workers. Eventually the pot was empty and Grandmother stood up . "Now darlings, Mr. McBride is due here in about ten minutes so I must get ready. Do enjoy the tour, Poppy, and pay attention." She kissed her daughter and granddaughter on the cheek and breezed out of the room.

Poppy looked around. The lobby looked like a bar in the most expensive, tasteful restaurant in the city. No velvet flocked wall paper, no aspidistras in pots and none of the attractive ladies who floated in and out seemed to be dressed in the least bit provocatively. In a way, it was a bit disappointing. Still, her grandmother's last comment required clarification.


Asphodel's Ch. 02



Mavis Beacon sauntered into the senior partner's office, closed the door behind her, and perched her well-toned derriere on the top of his desk.

"Good morning, Mr. Cornwall."

"Good morning, Ms. Beacon, and how is my office manager this day besides the usual gorgeous and delectable?"

"Quite fine, Mr. Cornwall. Thank-you for asking. I think you ought to know about that the young accounts intern you took on—Brian? He has quite the eye for discrepancies."

"And he found . . .?"

"After looking over the Vander Meer contract, he told me that there were three different billing errors in the final copy. They would have cost the firm," she reached into her cleavage to pull out a note, "eleven thousand, seven hundred forty-eight dollars and nine cents."

Andrew Cornwall sat up straighter, "That's not an inconsiderable sum! We're going to have to make sure he knows that when he graduates he has a place here. Yes, he definitely has an eye for discrepancies. By the way, that's not the only thing he has an eye for."

"Mmm?"

Mr. Cornwall leered slightly, "I've noticed that whenever you walk through accounting his eyes lock on your backside like a heat seeking missile. He just sort of freezes until you get out of sight."

"Oh, that's just too adorable! I wondered. Every time I speak to him about his work he stammers and his ears turn red. I thought he was afraid of being corrected or caught in a mistake. I didn't realize there was a carnal involvement. My, my, that's interesting. He has the hots for me and our para-legal, Prudence, would be on him like a duck on a junebug if only she wasn't so shy and inhibited. Ah, the human side of a law practice . . ."

"Do you think we should help the situation along or just let Nature take her course?"

Mavis snickered, "Are you asking what we should do or what I'd like to do? I know which would be more fun."

"That goes without saying but we must keep the well-being of the practice in mind. You know the policy."

"'Gentlemen keep their pens out of the company inkwell', and a good policy it is, too. Of course, in Brian's case we always have the alternative of having Asphodel's do a house call. It would fit perfectly into the Professional Education account. Little Pru, on the other hand . . ."

"Asphodel's? A house call? Fat chance! For one thing it would be far too expensive, even after giving the boy a cut of the money he saved the firm. The poor kid might develop a taste for the place and it will be years before his discretionary income is in their range. On the other hand, a nudge towards the pleasures of the flesh wouldn't hurt. Any way you can 'nudge' him toward Pru?"

"I'll work on it, in my spare time." She hopped off the desktop and turned to the door, then froze. Over her shoulder she said, "And I just had an idea. I'll let you know how it works out."

*****

The next morning Mavis approached Brian's desk with just a bit more swing in her step than usual. She grinned internally to see his eyes focus on her swaying hips and the tips of his ears start to pink.

"Brian," she purred, "I told Mr. Cornwall about your work on the Vander Meer account yesterday. He was quite impressed and wants you to know that in circumstances like those, company policy dictates that the one who saves the firm money gets a ten percent cut. So here are two envelopes. One is your share, one thousand, one hundred seventy-five dollars and the other, this big one? It's from one of our most important and certainly oldest accounts. Make sure their tax filings are correct for this quarter."

The blush spread from the intern's ears down under his shirt collar. He muttered his thanks for the bonus and did a double take when he looked at the label on the larger envelope.

"Asphodel's? This is a joke, isn't it? There really is such a place?"

Ms. Beacon was surprised. "You thought otherwise? Brian, Asphodel's has kept Cornwall, Cordoba and Cho on retainer since the era when Mr. Cordoba and Mr. Cho's ancestors were thought suitable only for manual labor. The two businesses have had a continuous relationship for over one hundred twenty years, through six generations of both families. Yes, it's most definitely real."

Brian stammered, "I—I had no idea. I've heard such wild tales about the place I thought it had to be—be a myth."

A sly smile spread over the office manager's face. "Young man, most of the tales you heard probably have a strong core of truth. Be assured Asphodel's is real, highly regarded, influential and very profitable. Continue to show the kind of ability you currently seem capable of and there is a good chance that after you complete your C.P.A., Azalea O'Malley will have you looking over her personal accounts as well as her professional ones. Look over these documents carefully. You will find them educational—and very, very extensive. She's the richest woman in the state."

Brian took a very deep breath and shot his cuffs out before opening the envelope. "They will have my utmost attention!"

*****

The next noon, Andrew looked up at the sound of his door opening to see his wife enter and then turn and lock the door.

"Mmm?"

She slithered onto his lap and began to unbutton his double-breasted vest.

"Yesterday after the noon shift, Camellia and I were showering and she told me about the house call she made to Senator Garcia's office."

"A house call from Asphodel's? Wow, that water project is definitely important to someone. Was she paid by the proponents or the opposition?"

"Now, Andrew, you know we never ask that sort of question," She unknotted his tie and started to unbutton his shirt. "It would be so unprofessional. Anyway, that evening I was thinking that with all the gentlemen who have enjoyed me over years, none of them has ever done me on his desk at work. It was an experience I've missed.

So I thought to myself, Andy has a lovely big desk in his office. I'll just pop in on him some lunch hour and get properly used. And since this won't be an official coupling, he can do anything he wants with no prior contract. It will be such fun."

She leaned forward to lick his throat and then ran her tongue down to his bare chest, and around both nipples. She pinched on between her teeth.

"Jane, much as I would love to indulge your fantasies, lunch times are when lawyers meet clients!"

"Not today, they don't. I called ahead this morning and had all your appointments cancelled from eleven thirty, on."

"You what?"

Ms. Cornwall unfastened his suspender buttons and undid his fly. "I cancelled your appointments. I looked them over and since everything was routine, I told Mavis you weren't going to be available until late this afternoon. She thought it was a great idea. Darling, though I generally agree with your policy about fun and games with the staff, not fucking Mavis is just—just extreme. There's a woman with a body built for pleasure, hers as well as yours. But today," she got off his lap and pulled down his trousers, "you're going to make use of mine."

She stepped back from him, reached behind her back and languidly pulled down the zipper on her cashmere sweater dress. Shrugging her shoulders and tugging gently at the cuffs of her sleeves, she let it drop to puddle softly at her ankles. Putting her hands at her shoulders, she ran them down her torso, stopping to cup her unfettered breasts, stroke her smooth mons and off her thighs. Jane opened the purse she had set on this desk and withdrew a few squeeze bottles and then dropped to her knees.

"I've brought along a selection of lubricants, both hot and menthol for whatever you want to do to me. I think it's time we got started."

She took his stiffening member in her mouth and sucked hard, running her tongue up and down the shaft and under the head of his helmet. As he hardened she bobbed and rotated her head, running her fist up and down the shaft.

"My, you certainly seem ready, Mr. Cornwall, I'll just hop up onto this lovely green leather, shall I?"

Jane sat on her husband's desk, leaned back on her elbows, spread her thighs and lifted her knees with a knowing wink. Andrew stared hungrily at her lush body and down to her beckoning sex. When he was a young man just learning about sex accepted wisdom said that the man had to persuade the woman through foreplay. It occurred to him that such an approach might serve most men well with most women. Fortunately for him, Jane's appetites were as robust as his own. The swollen, glistening labia told him that more fooling around would be redundant. He leaned forward, clutched her by the hips and took her.

Jane moaned. Andrew knew just where to drive his thick member and at what angle. He was deliberately pounding her G-spot. He wants me to come hard and fast. Oh god, is this going to be a quickie so he can get back to work or does he want to make me melt-down? The man leaned down, took a nipple between his teeth and squeezed.

"Andrew!" Jane gasped as the thrill shot down her body. She felt the familiar build up and started to pant. He's going to make me scream. The whole office will hear me! I'll have to pretend to be so embarrassed. So. Much. Fun!

"Oooooh . . . god!" The orgasm hit like a wave crashing over her in spasms of emotion. Most of the women in Asphodel's concentrated on pleasing their clients but Jane could not help herself. Any man who could last five minutes would make her cum and cum again. She thought it was probably one of the things that kept them coming back and asking specifically for her. Then Andrew withdrew.

"Turn over." Jane was still shuddering from the last climax as she complied and she lifted her hips in anticipation. But instead of diving back into her muff, Andrew smeared a gob of gel onto his cock and pushed it against her anus. "Open!"

Her eyes widened. He was going 'around the world' with her, something that rarely ever happened at home. Anal sex at Asphodel's was a premium service and had to be negotiated in advance but today her husband was not even bothering to ask. He knew what he wanted and was taking it. She bore down and he popped inside. So! Full! Being buggered always felt like she was getting fucked by a horse. Men seemed so huge back there. Jane began to rotate her hips. He'd made her cum really fast, let's see how he liked being rushed to climax.

The combination of her tight sphincters, the way she swung her ass and the view of it waving around him was too much. With a grunt Andrew sent his load into her bowels. Again and again he came until finally he was spent and slipped out.

"Damn, woman. That was amazing. Just make sure you don't show up here when I've got important clients to meet."

"Why not? Let me soften them up and they'll agree to anything. Everybody is easier to deal with when they've been laid."

*****

"O'Malley residence."

"Hi, Henry, it's Andy."

"Top of the marnin' to ye, Cornwall! To what happy circumstance to I owe this call? I trust everything is well with you and yours."

"Oh, we're good. The family's healthy, business is up and even my golf game is improving. However, I do have an odd little situation at work I think needs your dear wife's consultation. Is she in?"

"Sorry, she'd down at the Gentian. Axel Trevethlyn is giving his quarterly dog and pony show to the foundation board of directors and she's sitting in to keep them under control. That will take until noon and then there'll be the traditional buffet in the Purple Sage Room."

"Mm-hmm. And that will be followed by a discrete withdrawal to the sixth floor for the afternoon's entertainment. I know how that goes."

"You got it. After all, the directors should support the business that helps fund the foundation and I've never heard any complaints about the service at Asphodel's. I'll tell her you called. She'll be intrigued and probably want to come see you about it in person. You free around nine thirty?"

"If I'm not, I will be. How about your schedule? You up for a round of golf Saturday morning?"

"Sure. I've let my swing get rusty over the last month or so and need to get it back. Seven a.m. tee off early enough?"

"Just fine, Henry. See you then."

*****

It is said that a man never forgets his first woman and if asked Andrew Cornwall would heartily agree. Of course, his would be especially hard to forget since she was sitting in his private office at nine thirty the following morning. Though her hair had turned silver, Azalea O'Malley was still slim and desirable in a cream Bill Blass suit and matching Gucci pumps. Andy whistled silently to himself and decided that though there was twenty years difference in their ages, he really ought to make an appointment with the most renowned madam in the state. She had been the best lay a young man could have hoped for and there was no reason to believe she had forgotten anything in the intervening years.

"Henry said you had something you wanted my advice on, Andrew?"

Cornwall grinned broadly and explained the dynamics that were affecting his staff.

"So you see, dear Azalea, young Brian thinks he is smitten with Mavis and Prudence is suffering from unrequited desire for Mr. Lancaster. It isn't affecting the operation of the office, yet, but I am concerned that it might."

Azalea gave a lady-like giggle, "I can't question the young gentleman's taste. On more than one occasion I've approached Mavis with the offer of part-time employment but she insists that she has more than enough on her plate keeping Cornwall, Cordoba & Cho in line. However, he really isn't in love with her, merely, as you say, smitten. How old did you say he was?"

"I didn't. However, he is just shy of twenty-two."

"Hmpf! At that age he is smitten by anything in a skirt. I'm assuming you want his attentions turned towards the younger lady? I'm sure Mavis is flattered but it could get annoying in short order. You said he's just shy of twenty-two? When's the big occasion?"

Cornwall grinned ruefully. "Honestly, I don't know. Mavis would. Should we be planning a serious celebration?"

"Perhaps. But do tell me, dear man, why you feel it necessary to get involved. It is most atypical of businesses to have anything to do with employee's love lives. Is there something special about either of the two of them?"

Cornwall leaned back in his chair. "Indeed there is. In a few months, Brian's internship ends and he is supposed to return to Berkeley. When he graduates he will probably be bombarded with offers from the biggest accounting firms in the country. I need to forestall that. He is good, really good. In an hour's time, reviewing a single document, he saved Cornwall, Cordoba and Cho over eleven thousand dollars. In an afternoon, he found one hundred thirteen thousand dollars in tax savings for Asphodel's. I want him to transfer to the local campus to finish that degree. I want him to complete his C.P.A. and I want him to go to law school here. He has the potential of making this firm the most important tax law specialist in the state."

"Ah," Azalea nodded sagely, "and the best way to capture his body is capture his heart first. You are a sly devil, Andrew, just like your esteemed father. Speaking of whom . . .?"

"He is still attempting to prevent the republic from collapsing into idiocracy. He despises Washington and most of the people in it but Mother tells me he insists on staying until after the next election. If the stress doesn't kill him, they'll be home the following Christmas."

"It will be good to see them again. Do give them my regards and tell your mother that I still owe her lunch. Besides, I am agog to hear the latest gossip and scandal from the Capitol. But back to the subject at hand. Tell Mavis to give me a call. This could be devious enough to keep me amused for a good week or so."

*****

Ladies' Friday Out was progressing from convivial towards giggly. That happy situation was due largely to the instructions the bartender had received regarding the strength of the drinks being served to one of the younger Ladies.

"Have another, Pru?" Jane Cornwall, society wife and hobbyist courtesan, was acting as hostess to her husband's staff monthly TGIF. "Dominic is such an artist with alcohol and mixers. It would be a shame to deprive yourself of his expertise."

Prudence had already undone a couple of buttons and loosened her hair band. Now she fanned herself with a napkin. "I really shouldn't but they are so good. Anyway, like I was saying, if I wasn't still living with my parents I could probably invite Brian in for a drink and seduce him but without a place of my own . . ."

Mavis sipped her Cabernet. "And unfortunately Mr. Lancaster has taken on the persona of a responsible member of the accounting profession. Expecting him to wine, dine and bed you is a waste of time. It's too sad. He's so young he should be prowling the bars and cafés but instead he leaves work late, eats a frugal meal at the local diner and retires to his studio apartment to delve into the excitement of the Wall Street Journal and Barron's. This is unnatural. I think as women it is our duty to loosen the lad up. What we need is an opportunity and that will present itself in two weeks."

"Oh," Prudence hiccupped, "You mean his birthday?"

A predatory smile spread across both older women's faces. "Precisely," they said together.

*****

Mavis and a somewhat hesitant Prudence entered the elevator of the Hotel Gentian. To Pru's amazement her office manager withdrew a key from her purse and inserted in a lock above the button marked '5' and turned it.

"What . . .?"

"We're going to Asphodel's, Pru. It's on the sixth floor and you can only get there if you have a key."

"You have a key to Asphodel's? But that's a brothel. Why?"

The corners of Mavis mouth turned up in mischief. "I borrowed it, dear, because when it comes to dealing with men on an intimate basis there is no one better to consult than a skilled courtesan. And the women in Asphodel's are the best. You want Brian so you're going to get him as his birthday present. The trick is to keep him and that we'll do by making you so irresistible that he never wants to let go. Now no arguments, young lady, and no reluctance. This is for both of you."

When the door opened, Mavis turned to her charge. "Azalea, this is Prudence Cabot. Prudence, Azalea O'Malley, owner of Asphodel's and our firm's longest running client."

"Uh, how do you do, Ms O'Malley?"

"Quite well, thank-you, and you may call me Azalea, Prudence. Please step out here in the brighter light so we can take a good look at you."

The three of them were joined by a scholarly looking woman with carefully sculpted iron grey hair and a professional manner. 

"Ah, Dr. Feinberg, I'd like you to meet Prudence. She's come for some consultation in matters of the heart—or regions near to it."

Dr. Feinberg chuckled in a husky, Middle-European voice. "Call me Marta, Prudence, I'm only Dr. Feinberg vhen I'm in my own office. Zo, a conzultation? Vhat zeems to be the problem?"

Prudence looked at Mavis for support and got only a gesture to explain. "Well, there's this guy in the office I work in? And he's really cute? But he has the hots for Mavis here even though she's—uh, several years older than he is? And I'd really like to get his attention but I'm too shy to start up a conversation or anything with him? So he treats me like a colleague!" Tears started to well up in the young woman's eyes.

The older women all nodded sagely. "That's not uncommon, dear," Azalea patted the girl gently on the shoulder, "unfortunately this society has little in the way of supervised courting these days. It's amazing anyone meets anyone and no surprise that so many of those relationships fail. Young people stumble across on another and think that if the first one doesn't work out, they can just stumble over to someone else."




Asphodel's Ch. 02



Marta agreed. "I zee. Vhat you are vant is for him to sveep you off your feet and carry you avay no? But the young man is not of that personality. In my professional opinion, this can be a good thing. He is shy, too, I suspect."

Mavis chuckled. "Oh, definitely. Much as he is taken with my backside, whenever I speak to him he blushes clear up to the ears. I'm afraid that if I cornered him in the stock room he would faint dead away."

"Mr. Cornwall tells me he is a hard worker and very good at his job." Azalea nodded in agreement. "That is high praise from that man. So what we have, dear Prudence, is two young people too shy to engage each other but who, should they make each other's acquaintance, will probably be together for the next sixty or seventy years. To my mind that is the penultimate of Romance. I must say I approve. Ladies, let's make this happen! Now I think our first stop will involve a trip downstairs to the spa on the ground floor. We need to begin from the inside out."

In the ground floor spa, Azalea handed Prudence a plush white robe and guided her towards a changing booth. "Just undress and put the robe on, dear. We'll go into a private room before you have to get naked."

Have to get naked? Pru was not upset. She was fully accustomed to locker rooms full of naked women showering and changing together but being the only nude in a room with fully clad ladies would be, she thought, a little odd. But she complied and, as an after thought, undid her hair, letting it cascade in dark billows down her back. She put on the robe, which had been thoughtfully pre-heated, straightened her back, and strode out of the booth with her head high and only the tiniest quiver in her stomach.

In the private room, Marta helped her out of the robe and up onto a low dais. There the other women looked her over critically. 

"Goodness, Prudence," Marta began, "Vhat a lovely little body. Do you haf a regular exercise program to keep in zuch fine shape?"

"Mm-hm. I go for an hour of hot yoga every evening after work and on Saturday morning."

Azalea's hands flashed across the screen of a pad. "Do you? Where?"

"The Mid-Town Serenity Center. It's on the way home."

"Ah, that's perfect. You use the heated rooms on the first floor, don't you? And I'll bet you've never even asked about those upstairs."

"Uh, there are more hot rooms on the second floor? I never knew."

"The advanced classes take place upstairs, Prudence, where they practice in the nude. I'll let Jasmine know that you should be up there from now on. Our first goal is to get you more—let us say blasé about going naked. One of a young woman's most powerful assets, dear, is what I call her erotic capital. At Asphodel's we utilize it for profit. You, on the other hand, need to invest yours more personally. We'll help."

"Prudence, honey," Mavis began, "your cute little thatch, does it just grow that way naturally?"

So personal a question broke Pru's composure. She blushed all over. "Um, yes. I've never had the nerve to shave or anything."

"Don't!" Azalea was imperious. "Women across the nation pay millions to have cosmetologists pluck, shave, wax and electrically shape their pubic hair to get what God gave you naturally. Appreciate it."

"Um, Azalea, are these nude yoga classes, um, co-ed?"

"Indeed they are. And that is exactly the point. You can't expect to be able to flaunt your sexuality to Mr. Lancaster if you aren't comfortable with your body, young lady, and flaunting your sexuality is precisely what you need to do. In fact, I must insist that Mavis see to it that you stop eating lunch in the office and come join us here—naked! Of course you will be off limits to the clientele but it will do you good to become accustomed to an atmosphere of sensuality and desire. Mavis?"

"As you wish, Azalea. I'll let Mr. Cornwall know. There won't be any question of his agreeing. You know your wish is his command."

Azalea smiled benignly. "I do know, very well indeed. And don't bother yourself about it. He has an appointment with me this afternoon. I'll let him know then."

Prudence goggled. "Mr. Cornwall comes here?"

The older women laughed. 

"He most certainly does," Azalea continued. "Cornwall men have either lost their virginity or had their erotic education seriously advanced at Asphodel's for seven generations now. I used to say they were almost family but now that his son Steven has married my granddaughter, they are family. It's so delicious, you know, that spice of almost incest from getting done by one's son once removed. Now where were we?"

"Naked lunch und naked yoga," Marta responded.

"Ah, yes." Azalea circled around Prudence regarding her as one would a fine piece of sculpture, "a superb body, especially that little bubble butt, lovely hair, attitude improvement coming over the next two weeks—what we really need is a touch of the exotic."

Marta nodded in agreement. "I find that plumeria perfume zeems to have a very zatisfactory effect on gentlemen."

"Oh, yes," Mavis added, "or carnation. But let me find out what Brian's favorite exotic daydream is. I suspect that it will turn out that patchouli is our friend in his case. I distinctly remember him complaining that there wasn't a good Indian restaurant to be found, at least none that compare with what he is used to in Berkeley."

The figure on the dais brightened up. "Oh, I know where to go. Patel House over on Sherman Drive has the best tandoori and butter chicken I've ever tasted."

"Well for heaven's sake, don't tell him, yet!" Mischief spread across Azalea's face; "Once he's bedded you down properly you can take him there the next evening. Then head back to his apartment and curl up on the couch together to digest the meal. He'll be warm, well-fed and well-fucked. That's all it takes to keep a man happy, after all. He may propose on the spot!"

"Hmpf!" Marta snorted, "He vill probably vant to make love to you on the couch and then he vill be varm, vell-fed, and vell-fucked. Tventy-four hours is a long time vhen one is only tventy-two, after all."

Azalea retrieved the robe. "You can get dressed again, Prudence. I think we have enough information about you and Brian to get started. Mavis, your job is to make sure whether Brian really wishes he could live in the world of the Kama Sutra. If that's the case, then we'll plan a birthday party for him in the Purple Sage Room and have Patel House cater it. Let me see which of the upstairs rooms best lends itself to an Indian theme. I'll make sure Prudence has a key to the sixth floor and—I think I need to make a phone call or two. Oh, this is going to be such fun!" 

*****

That afternoon at the Serenity Center, Jasmine handed Prudence a robe as she walked in the front door and nodded toward the stairs. Obviously she had already heard from Azalea. So instead of changing into her leotard, Pru just put her clothes in the locker, donned the robe and walked self-consciously to the heated yoga room. Swallowing, she hung her robe on a wall hook and sat down right on the mat near it. Others in the class were filing in and taking up positions in the center of the room except for one who came over to her.

"First time here, honey? I hate to point this out but you will be a lot more conspicuous up against the wall than you would be in the group. All the skin sort of blends together. Come on, join the crowd."

Reluctantly, Prudence got up and sitting next to her new acquaintance, pulled her legs into an easy full lotus. She straightened her back, closed her eyes and began to breathe deeply.

"Ommmmm . . .," the chant filled the room as the radiant heaters on the ceiling beat down on them. Prudence felt the sweat begin its familiar trickle down her body and heard the pad of feet at the front of the class. She opened her eyes. A white-haired, white bearded man with a wiry physique and perfectly defined muscles sat before them. He smiled at her.

"We have a new classmate. Everyone say 'Namaste' to Prudence when you get the chance but for now, let us begin. Full lotus to the headstand and then to a planch. Begin."

Across town, Azalea snuggled next to Andrew Cornwell and laid her head on his bare chest. He had done her well, she thought, more like a lover than a client but then, that had been the way of the Cornwall men with her ancestors ever since Asphodel's opened. "Mr. Cornwall, you are a wonder. Is that what you did to my granddaughter for her first trick?"

"What a naughty question, Azalea! But in the interest of keeping peace in the family, yes it was. She seemed happy with it."

"So she should have, Mr. Cornwall. A thorough licking followed by a half hour of getting pounded into the mattress is how any virgin should enter womanhood."

"I hope she wasn't too sore the next day."

"Hah! After six months of pompoir training? No, dear, she wasn't the least bit sore the next morning. In fact, she reported for work and dealt handily with two gentlemen at lunch and another three in the evening. Of course, being both the newest girl and the Asphodel-in-waiting did make her highly attractive. It was nearly a month before the novelty wore off. And now that you've gotten what you paid for, how about a second one, on the house." She squirmed her way down to his hips and tucked the soft head of his cock into her mouth. Flicking her tongue across the frenum under the helmet, Azalea sucked strongly as she gently fondled his balls. It would not be long before he was ready again.

*****

At noon the next day Prudence would have preferred the company of the rest of the staff at lunch but a stern look from Mavis sent her downstairs, across two blocks and into the elevator in the Hotel Gentian. She rode it to the fifth floor and when the last passenger got out she screwed up her courage and inserted her key into the lock that took the car to Asphodel's. Azalea was sitting at a table in the bar area and motioned her over.

"Go into the office and strip down, sweetie, then come back and have lunch with me. We've got chicken scaloppini and a spinach salad coming. Go on, quickly, and leave your shoes on. Heels do such wonders for the line of a woman's leg."

When the blushing Prudence emerged from the office she was alarmed to see a nattily attired gentleman with a shaved head and bushy white mustache sitting at the same table. He winked at her.

"Prudence, honey, this is my husband Henry. He's a columnist for the Herald. Henry, this is Prudence, the one I was telling you about."

"Hello, Prudence," the man fairly twinkled, "sit your pretty self down and get a napkin over your lap. The sauce is quite hot and you don't want to splash it down your front. We'd hate to send you back to Andrew with blisters in your passionate places."

"Oh, stop, you 'orrible man! The poor thing is having a hard enough time getting used to being naked without you teasing her. And make sure that your friends among the clientele know she's completely off limits, understand? Just because a pretty girl is naked in Asphodel's does not mean that she's available to them or to you."

Henry sighed and pouted dramatically. "Oh, very well. I'll have to restrict my amorous intents to my daydreams. But Prudence, you really are gorgeous and would have quite a following if you were one of the staff here. And I mean that in the most complimentary possible way."

Pru dimpled and blushed again. "Thank-you, Mr. O'Malley. You write about sports, don't you? That column that says snarky things about our minor league team? It's really funny."

"And thank-you, Prudence. I do my best to amuse and it's nice to know that sometimes I succeed."

*****

On the Monday before Brian's birthday Mavis was once again sitting on Cornwall's desk.

"You have a report?" the senior partner said with a grin.

"Yup. Brian's father was in the Foreign Service and he spent his formative early adolescence in New Delhi with vacations to the Western Ghats and the Himalayan foothills. Yes, he is very strongly attracted to Indian cuisine and culture. I got this by sending our junior attorneys out to take him drinking."

"Oh, well done! Did Fotheringill and Tanaka have anything else to report?"

"Yeessss—it seems our boy has a bit of a fetish for Henna tattoos. I told Azalea and she told Pru. Prudence was not immediately enthusiastic until Azalea began spinning her a vision of a modern Apsara, bejeweled and adorned with trailing designs all over. But the more Azalea talked, the more Prudence liked the idea. So the party will be done in a Bollywood theme and our little hottie will be discretely covered in a high neck churidar until she gets him into the room down the hall."

"After which point we let nature take her course and the fireworks begin. I like it! Have you told Jane?"

"Would I let you know if I had?"

"Minx! All right, then. Get off my desk and on with the planning. I wonder what the chances of my getting a look at Pru are after she's all done up and before she puts on the churidar."

"Absolutely zero. Perhaps you may get a look at her afterwards but I wouldn't bet more than loose change on it."

"Damn! Oh well, there's always the possibility of setting Jane up like that." He turned to his computer screen and the case at hand.

Mavis smiled to herself as she left the office. Yes, there was a very, very good chance that the boss's wife could be decorated and dressed like that—and waiting for him in the room she used at Asphodel's two days a week. 

At lunch, Brian walked to the staff break room to retrieve his poor boy sandwich for lunch but when he entered, he froze. The smell of lamb korma and cauliflower curry filled the air.

"Who . . .?"

Prudence, for the first time in a week, sat at the table with a collection of high temperature food storage boxes in front of her and a blissful expression on her face. She looked up."

"Hi, Brian."

"Prudence, I didn't know you liked Indian food."

"I love it. Mom took it at cooking school years ago. We have it a lot. My dad even built a tandoori in the backyard instead of a normal barbecue. When he fires it up, people start drooling over the fence."

"Can—can you make it, too?"

"Oh, sure. Want to try some? I made it for dinner last night."

Pulled like a fish on a line, Brian sat across the table from the girl and opened his mouth in begging anticipation. When she popped the forkful of korma onto his waiting tongue, the intern nearly melted. The effect was so endearing Prudence fed him the rest as a mother bird fills a nestling. Gosh, if I'd known that was all it took to get his undivided attention, I would have done it months ago. Maybe the way to this man's heart really is through his stomach. Oh well, nothing lost. Friday I'll just reinforce my appeal. 

Pru followed Mavis' instructions to take the afternoon off and report to Asphodel's where once again she stripped down in the manager's office and glided out gracefully to meet Azalea's approval.

"Beautiful, dear, just beautiful. Maybe I should contract with Jasmine to do some P.E. for all my girls if that kind of fluid movement comes from yoga. Now come down the hall with me. Twyla is taking a couple of weeks vacation to go skiing so her room is vacant. For the rest of the week you can just report there."

Prudence was not the first to be impressed by the quality of the artwork displayed on the halls of Asphodel's. And when she walked into Twyla's room her jaw dropped in surprise. If she had ever wondered what a high-class boudoir looked like, this was it. Gleaming antique furniture displayed the finest linens and upholstery. More artwork hung from the walls and graced the dresser and armoire top. And waiting for them was an attractive middle-aged woman in a white uniform.

"Prudence," Azalea began, "this is Stephanie, our resident cosmetologist. She's going to tastefully cover you in botanical tendrils of henna. Brian won't have any idea because your coat at the party'll cover them all. But when you take him down the hall, turn your back to unbutton it and let it fall to the floor. Then he'll see the display down your back and when you turn around, pause and pose."

"Will he grab me and throw me onto the bed?"

"Perhaps. I suspect he'll just freeze in shock and will need you to lead him to the bed. Either way will be fine. Now lay down on your tummy. Steph will do your back, bottom and thighs today. Then you just lie there and take a nap. It will take about four or five hours for the henna to have its best effect. Tomorrow you'll come back and she will do your front. By Friday everything should be perfect."

Prudence saw Stephanie's uniform out of the corner of her eye and then closed it. Taking a nap sounded like a wonderful idea until the cool henna paste began its dance into a floral starburst on her right shoulder blade. She turned her head farther and saw that Stephanie was wielding a squeeze bottle with a slender tube top. 

"I really ought to get Azalea to let me do this more often," Stephanie told her, "Of course that would require some way for the staff to show it off as part of that appeal and Asphodel's simply doesn't' work that way."

"I've noticed that no one goes naked around here except me."

"Yes, when a gentleman is referred to Asphodel's, he fills out a questionnaire and from that, Azalea makes recommendations. It seems to work. The ladies build up a surprisingly loyal clientele. Why, Azalea herself still has regular clients that have been seeing her for forty years!"

The nozzle left her shoulder blade and began its tracery down Pru's back.

"Really?" she exclaimed, "That sounds more like love than a professional service."

"I suspect it is, dear. After all, the other name for having sex is making love and if you have sex often enough with the same person, the chances of your falling in love with them are very high. In fact, they can be increased, if you do it right."

"How?"

Now the design was crossing her lower back and swirling around her left buttock.

"Friday night you take Brian down to the room and display yourself. If he's stunned, help him get undressed. If he grabs you, giggle and guide him. The goal is not the bed; it's the side chair. Once he's naked and ready for you, push him into the chair and sit on his knees. You can do a lot of foreplay in that position but when you're ready for him, skootch forward and let yourself down onto his manhood. Then put your arms around his neck and focus your attention on his right eye. Tell him to do the same. When he inhales, you exhale and vice versa. Rock your hips forward and back. Breathe deeply. You will be able to keep this up for a long time and that's good."

"Oh, I know about that position. It's called yabyum."

"Very good! It's the one you want if you really want him falling in love with you. It knits souls together."

With starbursts on her shoulder blade and butt cheek and trailing vines between them and down her high, the henna stopped.

"Now go to sleep, Pru. I'll wake you when it time to brush the stuff off and head for your yoga class."

*****

Wednesday, Prudence brought enough tandoori chicken and lentils with vegetables for two and Brian showed up, to the firm's utter amazement, with a sitar. He demonstrated modest skill with it while Prudence heated up their lunch and then semi-serenaded her after they finished.

When word reached Andrew Cornwall, he immediately called is wife. 

"Babe, I'm not sure we need to work so hard on Brian and Pru. Once he found out she was a fan of Indian cuisine and pretty good at cooking it, he seems to be starting a concentrated courtship."

Jane giggled, "Oh, good. Then he'll be even more eager to get intimately acquainted with her Friday night. Azalea and I were afraid he might be shy but now that he's the one in pursuit I think we can let that rest. I imagine it's time to go pick up a bunch of brochures from campus. Find a way for him to 'discover' them and start thinking about transfer."




Asphodel's Ch. 02



"Right! I'll call Admissions next and pick them up on the way home. After all, this is for the good of the firm."

"Sure, it is," Jane replied with her tongue firmly pressed into her cheek, "We all know you'd never do anything that might cause a man and a woman to get in bed together."

"Meeee? Never! Gotta go. Love you."

Jane went up to the master bedroom, dropped her clothes and stood in front of the three-sided mirror. The henna designs that ran up and down her body were fascinating. Maybe she ought to make them permanent. But that decision could be made at some future time. Looking over the evening's plans she saw that her twin younger daughters were suitably distant at a teens' slumber party, the fondue could be ready at a moment's notice, the wine was chilled and she was clean, moisturized and exotically perfumed. Now what to wear . . . .

The Cornwall Bentley pulled up their driveway and into the garage. As the door closed behind him, Andrew ran down the list in his head. There were no work related items he needed to deal with tonight, the not-very-subtle hints to Brian could stay in the car, no family celebrations were on the calendar so he had not needed to stop at the store or the florists. It appeared that all he needed to do was go into the house and get out this infernal pin striped suit and pour the pre-dinner drinks. Pajamas, here I come!

Jane met him at the door, a high-necked caftan clinging to her curves. She pulled him in for a long, open-mouthed kiss and then whispered in his ear, "Go get cleaned and shaved, sweetheart. I've laid out your lounge p.j.'s and smoking jacket. The Grahams are in town. Pamela invited us out to dinner but I suggested that we have a quiet evening at home. We can have wine and fondue in front of the fireplace and when we're finished, you guys can strip us down and fondle us while we chat. Pamela thought about that for a few seconds and said that since it's been just ages since you got into her pants that the idea was wonderful. She and Livingston will be here inside the hour, so scoot!"

A bit dazed by the suddenness of the news, Andrew did as instructed. Jane was right. It had been quite a while since the couples had swapped partners. Ever since Livingston had taken over the Minnesota operations of his corporation, their friendship had survived mostly by email. It would be great to see them again and even better to get his mitts on Pamela. Unlike his tall, slim brunette wife, Pam was blonde, short and just overweight enough to jiggle when she giggled. Remembering the 'Cadillac ride' he got from her made his cock stiffen as he shaved. Strip her down and fondle her while they chatted? Oh yeah! And that chat would be short, if he had anything to say about it. The girls could talk later while the men recovered—at least until they were ready to go again.

*****

In his apartment that night, Brian Lancaster sat on the sofa bed hugging his sitar and rocking back and forth. Prudence had been impressed. For the first time in his life he had done something that made a girl's eyes open wide and clap her hands together in delight. Until now the most he could expect from a pretty girl had been kindness. And certainly Pru had been kind when she shared her lunch with him but when he took out his sitar and began to play her kindness had turned to admiration. It was a new experience for the intern and one that he was sure he would treasure for the rest of his life. Practice, he needed more practice. The Journal could wait tonight. It was time for music!

*****

Across town Pamela Graham seductively licked the traces of chocolate fondue from Andrew Cornwall's face. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her husband wrap his arm around Jane and pull her in tight. 

"Janey, that was fabulous. A cheese and a chocolate fondue and some Riesling? Simple pleasures in the midst of all this affluence. It was pure genius." His hand crept up to the zipper pull on the front of her caftan. 

She smiled and nuzzled his cheek in response but whispered, "Not yet, Liv, let Andy start. I've got a surprise for him."

Livingstone Graham cocked an inquisitive eyebrow in response but lowered his hand to gently stroke the underside of her breast. She hummed happily and then said, "Pam, do you remember when we used to go camping with the Trevethlyn's?"

Pamela giggled and said, "Only too well! The girls would climb into our sleeping bags and the guys would play paper, stone and scissors to see which tent to visit for the night. We didn't find out who'd had us until the next morning! Great days."

"Well," Jane continued, "Camellia and Andy were talking about starting up the swapping at home again, now that the kids are old enough to get rid of easily. Since you two are relocating back to the capital, we could do something like we did back then. We could take three rooms at the Gentian and the men could draw room keys. It would be a lot more comfortable on king-sized beds than on those air mattresses we thought were great when we were younger."

"Do you mean regular rooms or the sixth floor?" Livingstone's smile turned into a leer.

"Regular rooms, Liv!" Jane was adamant, "If we use Asphodel's floor the men pay Asphodel's prices and I don't think your sweet Pamela is ready to turn pro just yet."

Pamela was about to emphatically agree when Andy pulled her up onto his lap and ran warm hands up under her sweater. As he suspected, she still wore bras with the catch between her breasts, a much more civilized and welcoming arrangement, the man thought as he undid the fastening and let her globes fall softly into his waiting palms. 

She gave a little gasp and then spoke, "Oho, is my eager beaver eager for some beaver? Jane and I haven't finished catching up." But she raised her arms overhead to let him pull the garment off. She turned and put her hands on the coffee table between the sofas, straightened her legs and arched her back in that pose all female mammals use to invite their mates. Andrew grinned as he slipped the ski pants of her and let them puddle around her ankles. He leaned forward and ran his tongue across her presented labia, making her hum.

"Now," Jane whispered to Livingstone and stood up in front of him. The man took the zipper pull in his hand and drew it down to mid-thigh and then sat back in surprise as she shrugged her shoulders and let drop revealing the network of intricate henna tattoos that covered her torso and thighs. Jane looked over her shoulder at her husband.

"Do you like my new garden, Andy? And aren't you jealous that Liv gets to play in it first?"

Andrew froze in astonishment and sat up with his tongue still protruding. Pamela took the initiative and sat back on his lap and raised her arms behind her head to grasp his hair and pull his head forward.

"Don't worry, Jane dear, I'll make it up to him. But those really are gorgeous. Where did you get them done?"

"Asphodel's," came the mischievous answer, "but you could get decorated up like this without having to work for it. Just pay Stephanie for a couple of hour's work and we can both be exotic objects of desire. Does it sound like fun? Livingston, does it look like fun?"

Both Grahams nodded assent and Livingston pulled her back down on top of him and began to run his hands and mouth over as much of her body as possible. Andrew had one hand on Pamela's breast and the other between her thighs. She smiled appreciatively.

"You know, Andrew darling, once you've done me good and proper we're going to let you two rest and then you're going to have to do your wife, too. I'll sit on Liv's cock while we watch you fuck her soundly. It's so nice that men have to really work for their seconds and it's more fun for us."

*****

Brian's birthday party wound down. After the honoree and his fiancée-elect slipped out of the room, unobtrusively they thought, the rest of the guests gathered around Andrew's laptop. Since it was hooked to a well-concealed mini-cam in the room Azalea had reserved for the couple, the on-screen action was enjoyed and applauded by all. By the time Prudence was slowly gyrating while straddling Brian's lap, a wave of self congratulation filled the room.

"Our work is done here, Keemo Sabe," Mavis muttered in her boss's ear. "Those transfer papers to State U. are as good as mailed."

"Mm-hm!" Andrew switched off the screen and turned to face his office manager. He found himself staring down her cleavage. "Two happy kids and a promising future for the firm. What more could anyone want?"

"Well," Mavis purred, "a bonus for work well done might be appropriate."

"Oh, of course!" Cornwall kept trying to force his gaze to Mavis' face but the treacherous eyes kept returning to her top with one too many buttons undone. "How much do you think is appropriate?"

"I don't mean money." She leaned closer, her perfume insinuating itself straight to the animal portions of his brain. "Your wife is upstairs in her room. I think an hour of the two of you working me over would take care of the bonus—on your bill, of course." 



Asphodel's Ch. 03



Mary Jane swallowed apprehensively as she helped Steven Cornwall pull his shirt off over his head, kick off his boat shoes, unbuckle his trousers and slide them down his legs. Her best girlfriend's husband leered lazily at her. He pulled off his socks and dropped his briefs. Now he was as naked as she was with one difference. She held the envelope he'd just given her. Inside were five one hundred dollar bills that she would get for having sex with him. Across the room, Poppy Cornwall looked on with a benign smile from a club chair. Unlike the other two, Poppy was still fully dressed and sitting with an open laptop across her knees. The nude girl made a beseeching face.

"Relax, MJ," Poppy responded, "Not a man in a thousand knows his way around the female body the way my Stevie does. He was trained by the best—my mother, in fact. Today you're going to find out how sex can be when you're not hooked up with some slacker dude. My guy is going to make you come and come again and again. You may even beg for mercy. And while he's at it, I'll take notes and afterwards you and I will have a little discussion about what other things you need before starting your exciting new career."

It had begun a week before in the sauna.

*****

An hour of Pilates in the university gym left both Poppy and Mary Jane sweaty and tired so a trip to the sauna was in order to give their muscles a chance to relax and not be sore in the morning. As they threw their towels down on the cedar benches and splashed a dipper full of water on the hot rocks, Poppy looked at her friend.

"MJ, this class may be hard but what it's done to your shape is a wonder. Girl, you are tight!"

Mary Jane dimpled. "Thanks, but all I'm trying to do is keep up with you. I can't figure out why a chick that looks the way you do is majoring in Bus. Admin. and Finance. I'd have you pegged for either Drama or Media Communications. Somehow I can't picture you behind a big desk in a pin-striped power suit."

Poppy snorted. "And you'd be right on target. I'm not studying this stuff because I want to, MJ. I really wanted to teach primary kids but Mom insisted that the family firm needs financial acumen at the top. Grandmother O'Malley has announced that she is going into semi-retirement on her seventieth birthday so she can devote the rest of her working life to her charities. I happen to know that's a big lie because she still has a few clients she is very fond of and she'll still be seeing them but most of the administration will fall to my mother and I need to be at her side as an advisor."

"So you won't be confined to a cubicle for the next fifteen years? Good for you. And at least you're married. All the rest of my friends are frantically trying to get internships with big corporations so they can 'Lean In' and make 'Important Contributions' before finding some other corporate type and starting a family. It's really depressing. My mother is a lawyer; one grandmother is a judge and the other a doctor—hyper-achieving women run in my family clear back to Suffragette days and if I don't look like I'm carrying on the same way I won't be able to show my face at Thanksgiving."

"So? What are you going to do?"

"Well, it looks like I'm going to law school. I scored really high on my LSAT and that looks less miserable than other options. It's just that lawyers in big firms work such damned long hours! I mean, sixty-hour weeks can't be good for you. When do you have a life?"

By now the sweat was really flowing down their faces and dripping off the tips of noses and nipples.

"Shower time," Poppy announced and they wrapped themselves in the towels and headed for the cold water.

The next day Poppy sought out Mary Jane in the student cafeteria and plopped down next to her. "MJ, I've been thinking."

"Now you're getting dangerous, Poppy."

"Always. Anyway, there isn't any reason why you would have to fight to join some New York or Washington law firm. My father's firm has been in practice here in the state capitol for over a hundred twenty years. They work reasonable hours and still make plenty of money. You could start interning with them, clerk your way through law school and then join the firm when you pass the state bar."

"Oh, right. As if it were that simple."

"MJ, Cornwall, Cordoba and Cho have been reciprocal clients with Gram's since pioneer days. If I ask Papa Andy for something related to both companies he'd give it to me. Simple it is."

"But Poppy, how does my going to work for your FIL's law firm benefit whatever it is that your grandmother's business does?"

Poppy stuck a carrot stick between her teeth, snapped it off and grinned wickedly at her friend. "You know, I think it's time you paid a visit to Asphodel's."

*****

A couple of days later Poppy drove her jeep into the underground garage of the oppressively respectable Hotel Gentian but instead of finding a place to park, she drove to a big roll-up door and pressed a button on her key ring. The door opened and when she drove through, a tuxedoed, smiling valet stepped forward and opened each door and helped each girl out.

"Thank-you, Juan. Juan, this is my best girlfriend Mary Jane Hartwell. MJ, this is Juan Costada, Asphodel's chief valet. Juan, be a dear and leave the jeep near the front. We probably won't be more than an hour. I've just got to talk some things over with Grandmother."

"Of course, Poppita, and you will need to get back to school right after that, no?"

"Not today, Juan. I only have class Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I just have to get back to the house and make sure Steve isn't making a total mess of the kitchen. Great cook, my hubby, but the mess he makes? Sheesh!"

Juan laughed and drove the jeep away as the two friends walked over to the elevator and pushed the call button. It opened immediately. Inside, the controls showed buttons for two basements and five floors but instead of pushing one of them, Poppy took out a key and inserted it in a lock above the fifth floor.

"What?" Mary Jane looked puzzled.

"MJ, Asphodel's isn't the kind of place people can just 'happen into'. A lot of people in this city know the name but most of them think it's just a story." The elevator rose swiftly through five floors and then past them. Then the doors opened. "However," Poppy continued, "as you can see, it's perfectly real."

Mary Jane looked around, astonished. It looked as though they had arrived in the bar of a very expensive restaurant or possibly an exclusive private club. Rich carpet covered polished hardwood floors, inviting comfortable lounge chairs sat next to small drinks tables in front of paneled walls hung with fine art. An elegantly dressed, sliver-haired woman approached them.

"Poppy, darling!"

"Hi, Gram!" The older and younger women hugged tightly and them Poppy turned to MJ. "Grandmother, this is my best girlfriend, Mary Jane Hartley. MJ, my grandmother Azalea O'Malley."

MJ shook hands under the warm smile of the patrician woman. OMG, she's nearly seventy? Damn, I've got to learn how she does it. I'd kill to look like that when I turn seventy. "How do you do, Ms. O'Malley? This is a very impressive—office?"

Azalea cocked an eyebrow at Poppy who grinned mischievously and shook her head slightly. "Dear," she said to MJ, "it's not an office, it's a bordello. In fact, if you were to ask anyone in state government or most of the major businesses around, it's the bordello."

Mary Jane was gobsmacked. "A—a bordello?"

"Yup," Poppy laughed, "the oldest, most reputable and definitely most expensive bordello in the state. It's been in operation pretty much continuously for over a hundred years. My thrice great-grandmother started it. It's named after her."

"Have you turned twenty-one, yet Mary Jane?" Azalea asked.

"Er, yes, last month." MJ didn't know what else to say.

"Oh good, there's some excellent champagne on ice. Clarence, if you would be so kind?"

An immaculately dressed, muscular young man set three flutes on a table near several luxurious chairs and taking a frosted bottle pulled the cork with the merest whisper of escaping gas. Then, taking each glass in turn, he filled it up and handed it to each woman. Wrapping a linen napkin around the neck, he backed silently away.

Mary Jane took a sip and blinked in astonishment. It was like nothing she'd ever tasted before. As legend had it, she felt as if she was drinking stars.

"I brought MJ over so she could understand why it will be so easy to get her an internship with Papa Andy's firm. She doesn't believe me."

Azalea flashed a smile. "Dear, skepticism is an excellent attitude for a budding attorney, especially here in the state capitol. When dealing with politicians always make sure you get paid up front, whatever you're selling. However, the simplest way is to ask him yourself." She looked at a diamond-encrusted watch that hung from the platinum chain around her neck. "Poppy's mother is entertaining him, again, and they always like to take their time but he should be out about the time we finish this bottle."

"M—m—mother?"

"It's a family business, dear, and darling Andrew is one of Camellia's favorite clients. Poppy's rather fond of him, too."

Mary Jane nearly choked on her champagne. She turned wild eyes to her friend.

"I sure am. Stevie and I had been fooling around all through high school but we'd never gone all the way before Mom started training me. By the time I had all the skills down, they set the price for my virginity at forty thousand. The bidding could have taken it higher but Papa Andy exercised a sort of right of first refusal to prevent me from getting deflowered by some complete stranger. He's a wonderful lover. I can't often talk him up here for an hour's fun because he has some issues with bonking his daughter but I keep telling him, Stevie screws Mom, Dad does Mama Janey and he does Mom. Why the heck should he worry about fucking me?"

"And me, of course," Azalea said smiling like a well-canaried cat, "I was his first and a man never forgets his first woman. Some time the three of us need to take him into one of the basement rooms and tie him to something. We could tease and tantalize him for quite some time before letting him go to chase us. More champagne, MJ?"

Her mouth and eyes wide with speechless astonishment, Mary Jane nodded and held out the glass. Alcohol seemed like a very good idea right now, lots of alcohol. Trying desperately not to drain it all at once, she took a good swallow and asked, "And this is the business you're studying finance for?"

Poppy shook her head vigorously. "Oh no, Mom will run Asphodel's and the rest of the family holdings—well, the trusts and various funds pretty much take care of themselves. What I'm going to eventually take over is the retirement funds."

"Re—retirement funds?"

"Oh yes, " Azalea raised an emphatic finger, "even with paying the house half of each fee, the young ladies here still bring down between four hundred thousand and a half million a year. They can't legitimately spend anywhere near that, of course, even after taxes so it has to be managed for them. And managed it is. This way after a ten or fifteen year career here each girl owns her own home is some quiet town and has enough socked way in blue chip investments that she never has to work again, no matter how long she lives. It's a serious responsibility and one that Poppy will take some years to learn before taking it on alone. Not that all of them move away. There are a few who come back after getting married and having a couple of kids and work part time, mostly for the fun of it."

"Yeah," Poppy interjected, "like my mother and MIL. Not that they're the only ones."

Azalea nodded, "Yes, there are a few of the local ladies who come in during the lunch hour as hobbyist courtesans. Ah, dear Mr. Cornwall!"

By now good and tipsy from three champagnes on an empty stomach, Mary Jane looked up to see a tall, well-built man in an impeccable blue pinstripe suit coming out of the hallway. Seeing them all, his face lit up in a huge smile and he swept toward them. He kissed both Azalea and Poppy though not in the manner MJ would have expected. Rather than the familial peck on the check Andrew Cornwall kissed both his daughter and her grandmother full on the mouth. It wasn't precisely passionate but passion was an obvious option.

"Mr. Cornwall," Poppy began, "this is my best girlfriend, Mary Jane Hartley. She has just received really high marks on her LSAT so she thinks she should go to law school. I think she should go to work for you as an intern until she finishes college. Then she can clerk for the firm until she passes the state bar. What do you think?"

Mr. Cornwall looked benignly down at the petite brunette. "Really? How high, Ms. Hartley?"

"Uh, one seventy-one?"

Mr. Cornwall whistled. "And you graduate when?"

"This is my junior year, sir."

"And naturally you will apply to law school here. Well, I sit on the board of directors so there isn't any point in your applying anywhere else; you will be accepted. So, yes, Poppy, I think she definitely should intern in Cornwall, Cordoba and Cho until she graduates. I'll tell Mavis to expect you—Monday morning?"

Mary Jane's jaw dropped. After a few gasps she managed to squeak out, "Monday after lunch? I have Advanced Rhetoric on Monday and Wednesday mornings."

"Excellent. We'll be expecting you. And Ms. Hartley, I don't know what your wardrobe contains but do try to maintain as high a standard of professional dress as you can. Toodles." And with that he strode into the elevator, closed the door and disappeared.

The rest of the champagne bottle and one more were consumed in celebration so the rest of the visit to Asphodel's was a bit of a blur and as Poppy drove home, very carefully, Mary Jane turned to her and said between hiccups, "It really was that simple? I can't believe it. Cornwall, Cordoba and Cho is the most powerful law firm in the state and you just got me an internship with them. How—how can I ever repay you?"

Poppy's chin came up and she looked at her best friend slyly. "You really want to know?"

"Yes, I want to know. Poppy, you name it. If I can do it, I will."

"You know, I really ought to get that in writing but here it comes. Mary Jane, since interns don't get paid and you'll need money to get through law, you're going to go to work for me at Asphodel's."

"At—at Asphodel's? You mean . . .?"

"The word we use is 'courtesan' MJ. Given the prices we charge, 'ho' doesn't cut it."

"But, but I could never do that! I mean, what if some really icky guy comes in?"

"Says the girl who woke up with Alf Greely the morning after Homecoming," Poppy's tongue made a noticeable bulge in her cheek.

"I'd been drinking! You know that happens to almost everyone in college sooner or later."

"Oh? And what was your excuse two weeks later when the two of you disappeared for a weekend? It couldn't be that despite his being odd-looking, mega-klutzy and a totally clueless wonder Alf is a genuinely sweet person, could it?"

"Yeah." MJ's voice was barely audible.

"See, even the most unattractive men can have their good points. So it's a deal. I got you in with Papa Andy and you work part-time for me. We'll start tonight at our place. Steven's going to pay you five hundred dollars for a good fucking. Of course, when you get up to Asphodel's standard, it will be a lot more than that but five 'C's' will do for a beginning."

*****

The next morning Mary Jane dreamily wrapped a borrowed robe around herself and drifted down for breakfast. Poppy hadn't been kidding. Once she had put the envelope in the nightstand drawer ("It's traditional, girl," Poppy explained) Steven had pulled her close. With one hand around her waist, the other had played gently with her bottom and everywhere it touched, heat rose and spread forward to her crotch. Damn, she told him. Every time some guy gets his hands on my butt, I'm lost. I guess every girl has her 'on' switch and that's mine. She closed her eyes and arched her back.

Stevie delicately ran his tongue around the inside of the shell of her ear, breathing warmly. He worked his way down to the lobe, sucked it in and bit gently. She shuddered. The other hand slipped down to stroke and fondle the other buttock as he pressed her hips against his pelvis, bending her backwards.

The kiss that followed was long and hot. He gently bit and sucked her lower lip and the tip of her tongue before probing in to explore every corner of her mouth. Breaking the kiss, Steve lifted MJ off her feet and lay her down on the gleaming sheets. Climbing in beside her he took one modest breast in each hand to massage them before running his tongue tip around each nipple, sucking strongly on the areolas. Mary Jane gasped. He kept this up for a while and then started moving his way down her body, kissing, licking and nibbling. He spent a surprising amount of time at her belly button and she was amazed at how erotic that neglected part was. Finally, he moved between her thighs and slid his hands under her butt cheeks, pulling down and lifting. 

That relentless tongue attacked yet again, running slowly up her labia, flicking back and forth. It reached the hood of her clitoris, vibrating that sensitive organ and making the girl gasp. Again he did it and yet again. Mary Jane felt her juices running and her labia swelled becoming full and rosy. When Steven thought her ready, he seized the now-erect clit between his lips and sucked hard. MJ convulsed. Unstoppable shudders wracked her frame and she cried out over and over. Poppy noted the fact on the laptop.

When the climax finally ended Mary Jane looked up at her client/lover to see a sly smile. He reached up and taking a small pillow put it beside her ass. "Lift," he commanded. Once the pillow was under her Steven knelt between her thighs and lifted her feet over his shoulders. He ran his cockhead up and down her juicy slit and then, slipping a condom on ("The client always wears a rubber, MJ.") plunged it into her. The sensation of this new angle of entry was new, interesting. Making short thrusts, Steven seemed to be hitting a place that first felt odd, then good. Suddenly MJ felt like she should be running for the toilet until wave after wave of orgasm hit. The girl, like most her age, had heard of the G-spot orgasm but had never experienced one. It was volcanic. Again Mary Jane cried out wordlessly and again her body writhed in ecstasy. Tears flowed from the intensity and still Steven drove on until in desperation she screamed, "Stevie, stop! Enough, already, stop. Please, Stevie?"

He withdrew and winked. "Roll over, woman, it's my turn."

Obeying, Mary Jane spread her knees as far apart as she could and arched her back, looking, Poppy though, very much like a cat in heat. Supporting himself with his hands on her butt, Steve drove into her with a growl. MJ grunted in response and then began to moan as he pistoned in and out, slapping his hips against her but loudly. MJ felt the tension rise again and then climaxed. This time the earth didn't move but the smaller quieter orgasms repeated, rolling through her and sending her into a kind of hypnotic trance. She lost all sense of time and place, aware only of the pressure on her hips, the cock inside her sex and the wave after wave of climax. Finally, with a grunt Steven, too, climaxed and sat back on his heels. Mary Jane rolled up on one side and stared back at him groggily. And he paid me for that? That was the best sex I've ever had . . . 

Sitting down the next morning at the breakfast table, MJ accepted the soup bowl sized cup of coffee Poppy poured her and took a healthy slug. Then, after a deep breath, she looked at her best girlfriend and asked, "Is Steve—I mean, does he always to that?"




Asphodel's Ch. 03



Poppy leered. "Always? No. Frequently? Uh-huh, especially when he wants something. He gets it, too!"

"And—and the other clients at Asphodel's, are they like that?"

Poppy looked up at the ceiling reflecting, "A few. Papa Andy, of course and one or two more. I think it's sort of showing off. If a man can make an Asphodel's courtesan scream that's macho points to the max, the sort of thing a guy can strut about. But most of them are just men, often lonely men. You'd be surprised how often you get paid to be a sympathetic ear. A naked sympathetic ear, perhaps, but sympathetic all the same. Marta's the best at that and she makes serious book at it."

"Marta?"

"Marta Feinberg, from Feinberg, Goldman and Ohuru, the mental health and family counseling group."

"Wait? A Ph.D. works in Asphodel's?"

"Yup. It paid her way through school and grad school and she's kept it up part time because she likes it."

"I—I never knew . . . "

After breakfast the two went upstairs to Poppy's study. MJ doffed the robe and stood in the middle of the room while Poppy went over her notes from the night before.

"Okay," she finally looked up, "first things first. MJ, like I said, you have one tight little body. It's coed gorgeous but not courtesan gorgeous. So—Saturday morning you're going back to the Gentian and spend an hour or so with Marta. Among her other skills, she's a top flight hypnotist and these cute little B cups," she tapped MJ on the chest, "are going to go D."

"What? She can do that?"

"You bet. In a month's time you'll be buying new bras. After Marta gets done with you, each boob will double in volume. Girl, you'll be spectacular. Also, you'll need to meet with Stephanie. She's our resident cosmetologist. She will depilate you, armpit to ankle. It will also take about a month but at the end you will be smooth and soft just like the rest of us. The men do so appreciate it and it cuts down on abrasions and razor burn."

"Doesn't that cost a lot?"

"It does but Asphodel's considers it an investment in employee upgrade. The bean counters have an account for it so it comes off the taxes. Now, once you're physically tuned up, how do you get to the standard Asphodel's is famous for? How's your head?"

"Uh, I can deep throat a guy, if he isn't too big, that is."

"Good, good. Actually it's kind of an over rated skill. Unless the client states in the waiting room that he's into domination and wants to face fuck his 'date', there isn't much call for it. Lips, tongue and hands skillfully applied are what makes for repeat customers."

"Face fuck?"

"Not encouraged, really. It gives the girl a sore throat and really isn't any fun for her. That's why there's a serious surcharge if that's what he wants. It's kind of like the dungeon in the sub basement. Yes, we do have one and yes, there are a couple of the girls who will either sub or dom if that's what the client wants but when they find out just how much that costs, most BDSM fans take their business elsewhere. We can provide full service sex if the client is willing to pay but for some things, they pay a lot!"

"Like anal? I did that just once. It hurt so bad."

Poppy raised an eyebrow, "Then you were doing it wrong. Probably the guy didn't know what he was doing and you had some anxieties about it. I'll tell Marta, she'll fix that, too. Anal sex is more expensive because the men expect it to be but honestly, most of the girls love it. I sure do."

Then Poppy reached into her desk and took out a smooth polished stone egg and handed it to MJ. "And I think you should start with this. You slip it up inside your snatch and try to pull it as far inside as you can and then let it down slowly, but don't let it fall out. It's pretty hard work at first but strengthening those muscles allows you to get your client off without moving. It's a very expensive skill and one that only about five of us have. It takes about six months to fully perfect but when you do? Wow! And it's great when you do find a special guy. That's when you break out the one technique we never use on the job, the Wave of Bliss."

Mary Jane's eyes narrowed. "I've heard of that. You sit on the guy's lap and trade breaths. What's the big deal?"

Poppy shook her head. "You just don't know. MJ, don't ever do it with a guy that you aren't either in love with or want to be in love with. The Tantric adepts claim that the energy moves down his chakras and up through yours then out your mouth and back into his nose. I have no idea what exactly is happening but believe me it knits souls together. Stevie and I do it at least once a month, more often if we've been fighting or stressing out about something. We may start off throwing dishes at each other but once I'm on his lap and my inner muscles are working and we stare into each other's right eye—well, all I'll say is that it's not long before love rules and all's right with the world again. No, even if a client knows about it, he can't get it at Asphodel's."

"I—I thought you just turned tricks."

"Whores turn tricks, MJ. We provide a refuge for the lonely as well as a way for lobbyist A to influence politician B or corporate types to close huge deals. Just ask my aunt. Most of the time she's a lobbyist, but every now and again politician B wants something a little more specific so she brings him or her here and has at it. Everyone's some kind of whore, MJ, we're just more upfront and honest about it. So, Monday afternoon at Cornwall, Cordoba and Cho and Saturday morning at Asphodel's will start you on your way in life. By the time you've passed the Bar, you'll have a tidy little next egg and be ready to attract some entrepreneurial sort or rising politician. Let him make the fortune, you raise his kids and practice socially responsible law part time to keep your mom happy—and come back to Asphodel's a couple times a week and make three grand during the lunch hour."



Asphodel's Ch. 04



Carmen heard, around the blindfold, the garage door close behind them and shivered in anticipation. The car door opened and she turned to get out. Strong arms pulled her from the back seat and lifted her up. For a moment she was afraid he would carry her across his chest, like a bride over the threshold but instead he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her hanging head down into the house. That was right. 

It had been a very successful auction. As she'd danced, stripping, between the tables the bidding went on and on, the bids getting higher and higher. Now someone 'owned' her and would claim her virginity. Everything had gone just as she'd dreamed.

*****

Six months before, Poppy Trevethlyn had handed the Jeep keys to the valet of the Hotel Gentian and stepping into the elevator used a very special key to send it to the sixth floor. When she emerged into the tastefully reserved luxury of the family-owned bordello she saw her mother Camellia and grandmother Azalea sitting in front of laptops with bone china tea cups at hand.

"Ah, Poppy darling!" Azalea exclaimed happily, "I was about to call you over. Something has come up."

"Nothing bad, I hope," Poppy replied removing her wedding set from her finger and carefully locking it in the safe behind her thrice great-grandmother's nude boudoir portrait that graced the lobby. It was just normal business practice and had been for over a hundred years at Asphodel's. Of course, there was the odd client who got really excited about 'renting' a married woman but that was an extra charge and required advance reservations.

Her mother chuckled. "No, not bad, just a little—odd would be the best word possibly. I believe it may have started with your friend Mary Jane."

"MJ? What's up with her? I thought she was settling into the 'hobby whore' mode rather well. She doesn't even gossip about the clients and when she's in Papa Andrew's law office she's the very model of industrious discretion."

Azalea smiled benignly. "MJ is turning into quite a valued member of the staff, dear, even to the point of having the beginnings of a repeat clientele but I've been wondering if I need to have a little talk to her about the value of discretion. Of course, I don't know that she spoke out of turn but this letter," she lifted a piece of very upmarket stationary, "makes me wonder if someone has. And MJ is, of course, the newest courtesan in the 'stable', so logical deduction would suggest she may have."

Poppy sat down at the table and smiled at Clarence the muscular, bisexual barman as he poured a cup for her and silently retreated. "A letter?"

"Mm-hmm," Azalea gracefully lifted her reading glasses and placed them on the bridge of her exquisitely chiseled nose. "Without going into the details the writer is asking for training in the sexual arts so that she can auction off her virginity to the highest possible bidder. Now that has only happened once around here and even then the 'auction' was restricted to one bidder."

"Yup," Poppy grinned mischievously, "my father, Papa Andy. He broke me in good, just like Mama, here, did his son Stevie. We must have been the best-trained newlyweds in the state. And you're right, I did tell MJ I was 'auctioned off' but since that was a private arrangement I don't think it's what the writer has in mind. Does she say?"

"No," Azalea lowered the glasses and left them hanging from the gold chain around her neck, "she does not. What she seems to be doing is making a case for a business arrangement. We train her; she pays us and then puts herself up for auction. It seems rather cold, actually."

Camellia looked skeptical. "Before we take this seriously, I believe we really need to know more. I would say an interview is in order. I don't have creepy feelings about it yet but I can certainly imagine developing them quickly. I repeat—we need to know more."

Azalea nodded sagely in agreement. "And I believe I know just who to hold the interview."

*****

A lithe brunette with a puzzled look in her flashing black eyes compared the address on the letter in her hand with the list of offices on the marquee of the lobby. There was no question. The street address and suite number matched perfectly but why she was being referred to 'Feinberg, Goldman and Ohuru, Family Counselors' passed understanding. However, the return address on the envelope clearly stated 'Asphodel's, Hotel Gentian, Sixth Floor' so this must be the right place. With a shrug she took the elevator to the top and walked down paneled halls to the door with the proper brass plate.

The silver-haired receptionist smiled at her pleasantly with questioning eyebrows. 

"Carmen Torremolinos to see Dr. Feinberg at 10:00," the brunette stated, trying to keep the quaver out of her voice.

"Ah, yes. And right on time, too. Go back out into the hall. Her office is right across from this one."

Following directions, Carmen opened the door somewhat tentatively and stuck her head in to see an attractive, fit and greying woman smile up at her. "Vell, good morning, Ms. Torremolinos," she said in a rich Austrian accent. "Do zit down here, please. would you like coffee?"

"Yes, thank-you, black."

Once both women were settled comfortably in their chairs Dr. Feinberg winked at Carmen. "Ms. Torremolinos, you are no doubt wondering why you have been sent here to discuss your letter to Asphodel's. Zer are a couple of good reasons but ze most important one is that here you fall under doctor/patient confidentiality. What you tell me about zis interesting proposal of yours is completely confidential und will go no farther zen zese walls. Ms. O'Malley, ze owner, is intrigued by ze idea but wants clarification as to your intentions and goals. Zo—what makes you interested in being auctioned off?"

Carmen blushed. "I know it sounds strange, even completely bizarre but—well psychiatrists always want to know the background so let me just say that while most little girls around here are raised on soccer, softball, Barbie dolls and Disney princesses, I was raised on yoga, symphonies and art museums. My mother is really big on them and was always taking me around to see the latest exhibition of great art. Her main interest was Impressionism and the Fauves but I always loved the Orientalists. I could sit and look at the odalisques and the bathers for the longest time. They were so pretty and they looked like they were enjoying themselves. Mother used to show me the pictures of the slave girls being sold to swarthy, lustful looking Arabs or Romans and lecture me on the evils of patriarchy but I use to get all shivery and excited at the thought of the girl being sold and then taken home and ravished. I never daydreamed about a big church wedding with me all in white, just about being sold to some masterful stud."

"Ah! Zo instead of wedding fantasies you had slave auction fantasies, no?"

Carmen giggled. "Really, I did. I still do. Mom took me with her to 'Mommy and Me' yoga classes from before I can remember so I'm fit and really flexible. I guess it was around when I was twelve that I started thinking about what I could do being that flexible. Then when I turned fifteen my Mexican grandmother told me that for my quinceañera I could have anything I wanted so I asked for belly dance lessons. Mom wasn't happy but grandma said it was my day, her money and my choice. The yoga gave me quite a leg up and in the last three years I've gotten pretty good though by classical standards I'm a little slim. But I figure I can put on a real display."

Dr. Feinberg nodded in understanding. "Ah zen, you are looking for a public auction, more or less? With lots of men bidding for you? Und have you thought through any details beyond zat? How long are you planning to belong to your buyer? Will it be just for ze weekend, just for ze night or . . .?"

Carmen sucked her lips in and looked troubled. "That's what I don't know! I never manage to get past getting into bed with him and giving him the best sex he's ever had. After that—I—I just don't know!"

Dr. Feinberg raised a silver eyebrow and shook her forefinger at Carmen in admonishment. "Well, zen it is a good thing you looked to a professional courtesan service. I am sure Ms. O'Malley will be willing to train you but only on ze grounds zat you follow her advice. Asphodel's has over a hundred years of experience in satisfying ze desires of men and in dealing with zem. Do what she says and I suspect zat you will get a happy ending to your fantasy, Ms. Torremolinos. But please stick with her. What you propose could be very dangerous if you tried it on your own."

"I know. That's why I wrote to Asphodel's. I don't really know much about the place. Hardly anyone I know does but the rumors and the stories fly around so I thought that if anyone could help me with this fantasy slave auction it would be them."

Dr. Feinberg patted the girl's hand. "Strangely enough, you were absolutely correct. Zo we have established zat you are going into zis with your eyes wide open and your head screwed on straight. I think it will be fun. If I were younger I might give it a try myself!"

*****

Axel Trevethlyn stood over the sink shaving while his wife went over the day's events and revelations. When she got to the report from Marta Feinberg he stopped in mid stroke and flicked the foam into the sink. "Really? She actually wants to be publicly auctioned off? As a virgin?"

"She does," Camellia replied, "and listening to her whole story I actually think it's kind of sweet. Every woman has her rape fantasies; that's why we love those silly Restoration Romances. Carmen has just upped the ante a little, thrown in Exoticism from the East if you will."

Axel put the razor down and stood up with a thoughtful look on his craggy features. He tilted his head one way and then the other, pursed his lips and then grinned. "A fundraiser. By the time she's got all the skills down it will be just about time for the Foundation's Holiday Fundraiser. Instead of a ball we'll throw an auction. We'll get some of the younger girls to be the 'merchandise', have everyone come in costume—heck, we could even invite the clientele to bring their wives if they want to come along."

"And provide escorts for the divorced and widowed gentlemen! Axel, my love, you are a genius. Oh this will be such fun. Finish shaving, honey, I'm going to get the harness and the KY jelly. You've earned yourself a Class A screwing tonight. Just wait until I tell Mother!"

When Axel came out of the bathroom his wife was as good as her word. A large flesh-colored Feeldoe jutted upward from her crotch, its surface glistening with lubricant. 

"Face down on the bed, baby," Camellia said through her leer, "since you don't have to be at the Foundation office until ten at the earliest I think I'll just see how long I can keep you moaning. Why, I may have to switch to an even bigger one. I had to have it custom made and I've been saving it for a special occasion. I was going to fuck you with it on our anniversary but I may just decide not to wait. Come on, luscious toy-man. Mama wants to play!"

Grinning happily at the prospect of an evening in the receptive mode, Axel lay down on the bedspread, spread his legs slightly and arched his back. Camellia laughed and smacked him soundly on the buttocks, paused and then began beating out a rhythm until her husband's backside glowed bright pink. She thought about just jumping on and banging him but instead leaned down, spread his butt cheeks and languidly ran her tongue between them. 

Axel moaned. A very skilled courtesan, as befitted the Asphodel's vice-president, Camellia had a long list of skills she knew made men happy—so many that sometimes she would forget how long it had been since she last used one on a particular client. And, to his regret, this included her husband. It had been an age since he'd been treated to a proper rimming and he began to melt into the covers with the raw pleasure of it all.

Once she had him whimpering eagerly, Camellia decided it was time to give Axel the treatment. She straddled his thighs, leaned forward to push the dildo up his butt and then rested her weight on her elbows. Happily, this was the exact height that allowed her nipples to brush his back, an added sensation to the impertinent silicone stroking his prostate as his wife started thrusting with her hips.

"Ooooh, gawd!"

"Mmmm, I love it when you moan like that, baby. It makes me feel really in charge and really powerful knowing that I'm send you to the moon, lover. Shall I reach around and stroke you? No, I don't think I will. I'm just going to keep fucking your butt until you can't help cumming, Axel, baby. I may not even stop then!"

As she had promised, it was a long night.

*****

Her 'buyer' was evidently quite a robust gentleman, Carmen decided, as he easily carried her into the house and up a flight of stairs. When at last he put her down, she immediately dropped to her knees, leaned forward and opened her mouth wide. Would he remove the blindfold first or just demand fellatio at once? Dampness spread between her thighs as she heard him begin to undress. She shivered. Soon he would be naked and she was still wearing the caftan that had been put around her after the auction ended. She hoped he would deflower her soon, not enjoy her mouth and then make her wait until morning. But he was the Master and she would do whatever he wished. The rustling and clinking stopped. She could smell male skin in front of her and made a happy little noise as he stroked her cheeks with the head of his rapidly engorging cock. Then he stuck it in her mouth and grabbed two handfuls of her hair. She swallowed eagerly.

*****

Carmen's training had proceeded with remarkable speed. The muscle control and tone that both the yoga and dancing had given her allowed her to master many of the more subtle techniques in record time. Azalea was quite pleased with things and said so to her husband one evening on the back deck as they watched the sun set over the mountains. "It will really be the best fund-raiser ever," she said smugly, "and the most fun as well. I can hardly wait to see how fierce the bidding gets when our little Carmen swivels out on the floor for the grand finale."

Henry snorted. "Fierce it may get but there has to be only one possible conclusion. And if necessary I'll back it up past more money than anyone believes."

Azalea put her wine glass down. "Henry, are you talking a fix? What in the world would make you do a thing like that?"

Mr. O'Malley glared at his wife over the tops of his gold-rimmed glasses. "Two words, my dear," he growled, "Richard Morganburg."

"Oh. Oh, dear. Henry, you have a very good point. Richard Morganburg, indeed. That poor man! Has his divorce come through, yet?"

Henry snorted. "He couldn't even bring himself to call his wife and talk to her about it, just had his attorney send her the papers. And what did she do? She sent them back so fast she must have signed them as soon as she opened the envelope and dropped them in the mailbox that same day! Like she couldn't wait to get rid of him and back to her 'very important' work."

"But weren't they talking about starting a family?"

"No, he was. Then she got offered that staff job on Capitol Hill and away she went. Seems she thinks what she does there is so important she has to be in the office fourteen or fifteen hours a day, seven days a week. Poor Richard went to see her a month or so after she got the job and she wouldn't even take off work to see him for more than a lunch hour. So what choice did he have? He became a client because she told him that if he got 'lonely' he should just go to Asphodel's and stop whining to her. It's terrible what politics can do to a person. Anyway, if little Carmen really wants someone who craves her, Richard absolutely needs someone to crave. A fix? You bet!"

Azalea sipped her wine reflectively for a long while and then nodded.

*****

Carmen happily ran her manacled hands up and down her new owner's shaft sending wonderful sensations through his brain with her mouth and tongue. But at last he released her hair and took her hands to pull her to her feet. Then untying her blindfold he lifted her into the air and tossed her gently onto the king sized four-poster. She looked up into his face and saw a distinguished-looking gentleman with a greying mustache gazing down at her, lustful possessiveness in his eyes. Running her tongue around her lips seductively, the girl spread her knees and reached up to him in invitation.

"Take me, Master," she said softly, "Let me be worth my price to you. Let me give you pleasure. Make a woman of me."

As he crawled up between her thighs she reached up one hand to the back of his neck and pulled him down while the other took his erect manhood and put it at the portal of her virginal sex. She gasped at the penetration. "Oh, yesss . . ."

*****

Carmen had been 'in training' for a month or two when one Saturday morning Axel and Camellia, having sent their younger children off to play soccer, were enjoying late coffees at the breakfast table. Camellia was chattering away happily describing the 'pupil's' progress.

"She's just the most toothsome little morsel, honey. I'm constantly amazed at the difference Marta's hypnosis can make in a woman's figure. Carmen's boobs have twice the mass they did when she first got here and her hips are so perfectly round and full—it's doing wonderful things to her dancing. She's going to bring a serious price at the auction. Speaking of which, how are the arrangements for the fundraiser coming?"

Axel started to laugh through his cup spewing and spilling coffee all over the table, down his pajama front and all over Camellia's lacy robe. Apologizing profusely he cleaned up the mess, got his wife a new peignoir and pulled on some Levi's and a polo shirt. Pouring more coffee he sat down again and began to chuckle.

"I'm not sure how to put this but—have you noticed any odd changes in the zeitgeist? I mean, is being sold to a loving master the latest thing in the teen-to-twenties world? Like instead of vampires?"

Camellia's eyes widened with astonishment. "Not that I've heard. Whatever are you talking about?"

Her husband took a long drag on his java, swallowed it and trying hard to keep a straight face began his tale. "I went up to the sixth floor to spend some hot time with Jane and when we were done I told her about the idea. She thought it was riotous and I guess she must have told Andrew. Now you know how he'd react; he's probably started an account to build up some serious bidding money but it seems that he also told his office manager, Mavis. When I got to the Foundation and started work, the phone rang. It was Mavis and she absolutely insisted, in no uncertain terms, that she be one of the auction lots."

"Mavis? Mavis Beacon? Mother has been trying for years to talk her into spending a few hours a week here playing hobby whore and she's always politely refused. Now you're telling me that she wants to be auctioned off for the Fundraiser? I can hardly believe it."

"Believe. And it gets worse." Axel continued, "I brought the subject up at the girls' staff meeting the next day, suggesting that they play prizes and donate the proceeds to the foundation as a tax write-off. There was some modest interest but no commitment. However, the next day the phone began to ring off the hook. Including Carmen and her grand finale, we have a dozen girls who want to be 'sold' for the weekend and get this: every last one of them is an amateur!"

"Amateur—Amateurs? Not part-timers like me, Jane and Poppy?"

"Amateurs! They're all singles who probably have plenty of experience but not a one of them has ever taken a dime for sex before. And they're all just quivering with eagerness to be sold to some guy or some couple, taken home for a weekend and used repeatedly. I don't understand it, I just don't."




Asphodel's Ch. 04



"And what did Andrew think of the potential legal difficulties?"

"He wrote up a contract that all the guests will have to sign as will all the 'prizes'. Technically they're not getting paid for sex. They are agreeing to spend a weekend with the highest bidder and any activities that take place are between consenting adults. All bid monies will be tax-deductible contributions to the Foundation—except for Carmen's, of course. She's a special case and one that sort of skirts the law. Possibly the Attorney General could make a case for prosecution but since she and her husband have already stated their intention of being in attendance with lots of cash I'm not concerned."

"Well, she and mother do go back a ways," Camellia grinned, "No one has ever breathed a word about how she paid for law school or how her nomination was approved by the state Senate. Let us just be grateful for an understanding Administration and get on with things. But Axel, this is an Asphodel's Charitable Foundation fundraiser. I would think that the attendees would expect that their prizes would perform to company level?"

"Well, I had worries along those lines myself but those who normally attend our events, at least the ones I've talked to, are quite charmed by the idea. Even Celia Havershaum, who tolerates her husband's visits to Asphodel's as clear evidence of the immaturity of men, called me back to ask if what she'd heard from him was true. And when I assured her that it was she asked again if I was sure that couples were invited and that the prizes would go home with them. Again I said that it was true. She was quiet for a moment and then said, if you can believe it, "My goodness. A threesome with a pretty young plaything? What an interesting idea!" and hung up.

"Celia Havershaum? Dear lord. If she decides that she absolutely has to have one of the girls the money will fly. That woman hasn't a fortune like Mother's but it's darned healthy. Baby, this could be the best fundraiser, ever!"

*****

Carmen moaned and chirped as her 'owner' kept up a steady, long-stroked rhythm. She panted as she'd been taught, pushing herself up to the edge. Suddenly the orgasm broke over her like a wave. Uncontrollable contractions wracked her body, making her cry out and dig her nails into Master's back. As the spasms faded the man sped up, pounding her, driving deep into her faster and faster until with a heartfelt groan he shot a load into her thirsty sex.

After a few moments he rolled off and she rolled over onto him. With a little giggle she whispered, "Master seems happy with his purchase."

The man stroked her hair and kissed her on the forehead. "Carmen, my name is Richard . . ."

"No!" the girl responded sharply, pressing her fingertip to his lips, "If we were with others your name would be Richard and mine would be Carmen but since we're alone you are Master and I am either Slave or whatever other pet name Master chooses to call me. We are not out on a date. You have bought me for your pleasure, desires and needs. That's what I put myself up for auction to do. It's what I want."

The man looked down at her in surprise. "But—Plaything, just how long have I bought you for?"

Carmen reached down to Richard's soft member and began to stroke it seductively. "Why, for so long as I please you and you need me, naturally. Now, I have one more orifice for you to enjoy. Let me get you ready." She leaned down and took him in her mouth.

*****

Henry O'Malley looked at the screen in front of him, went over the text one more time and then pushed 'SEND'. He leaned back in his chair with satisfaction. An entire week's worth of columns for the local sports page all done and in the can. And it was only Tuesday! That, he decided, called for a modest celebration so he opened the humidor at his side, selected a Churchill sized Dominican, picked up the Wall Street Journal and headed through the house toward the deck at the back. He got as far as the kitchen and then froze in his tracks. Azalea was standing naked between him and the sliding glass door, a dildo harness around her hips, a silver silicone dong jutting up from her crotch and a tube of KY lubricant tossing gently up in the air and back into her right hand. His wife was pushing seventy but a combination of good genes, proper diet, an hour of yoga daily (and some judicious cosmetic surgery when required) combined to make her still an object of desire. 

"I've locked the door, Henry," she said with a smirk, "so put those down and get out of your pajamas. You're not going anywhere for a while, maybe quite a while."

Henry was seriously nonplussed. Given that his wife was the most important madam in the Western United States, there was little in the way of sex play that he didn't already know about. For that matter, there was little he hadn't experienced but in all their years of marriage, Azalea had never even suggested anything like this.

"What are you talking about, Azalea? Where did this come from?"

"You know very well what I'm talking about Henry, my love. And where it came from is nowhere near as important as where it's going. Camellia told me she's been shagging Axel with one like it and he loves it. It gives her a great sense of power and it's physically fun so I decided we would give it a try. Now I repeat, put the cigar and the paper down and get out of your pajamas. I know you took your daily Cialis before breakfast this morning so just turn your loveable self right back around and go into the living room—and do it naked!"

Henry knew better than to argue when Azalea got definite so he shucked his pajamas (folding them carefully as they were bespoke Egyptian cotton) and entered the living room. There, to his amazement several hassocks had been pushed together to make a platform and on top were two sets of leather cuffs.

"Now see here, Azalea," he protested, "I'm way too old for this sort of nonsense."

"You are not!" his wife retorted, pushing him forward onto the hassocks, "Besides, you know darned well your urologist recommends regular prostate massage for the older man. It's one of our most popular services at the business, especially for the senior discount clientele. So just call this a more elaborate version. Come on, shoulders down, wrists at your knees."

Within seconds Henry was trussed helplessly in about as humiliating a position as he could imagine. Before he could protest Azalea dropped to her knees, took his face in her hands and stroked his smooth head. She kissed him, tenderly at first and then teasingly, nibbling first his bushy white mustache and then his ears and eyebrows. "I'm going to start now," she whispered.

Standing behind her immobilized husband, Azalea reached between his legs and started to stroke his cock and balls. She licked up and down the length of his perineum and soon had him moaning with pleasure.

"I knew you'd like this, honey," she crooned, "and now I'm going to put a cock ring on you. Don't want that lovely stiffy to go down when it's time to let you plunder me. But before we get to that point, I get to go first."

She poured a generous glop of lube into the palm of her left hand and smeared it all over the dildo. Then, with the fingers of her right hand she scooped some more out and rubbed it sensuously all over his anus, gently pushing some inside and then running it all around. Picking up a towel she snickered mischievously.

"I think you're all ready now, Henry. I'll bet you're just quivering with anticipation at the thought of being the fucked for a change instead of the fucker. Well, boy, you're in luck. Here it comes."

She put the tip of her girl cock on the opening to his ass and grabbing a hip in each hand gently and smoothly entered him. She smiled to herself as he first gasped and then moaned. And when she began thrusting for real he started to grunt softly in time with her. How long, she wondered to herself, should she do him like this. He was usually good for half an hour when screwing her so maybe fifteen minutes was enough. After all, she'd promised him the chance for payback!

*****

Richard was amazed at how quickly he recovered under Carmen's skilled attention. Soon he was hard and ready once again. She lifted her head, licked her lips and grinned at him. "Don't go anywhere, Master," she said and slipped off the bed to retrieve the little velvet bag she'd brought from the auction. Bringing it back to the bed, she unsnapped it the top and took out a packaged condom, a tube of lubricating gel and a Lubeshooter. She handed the last to him.

"Stick this up my bottom, Master, and give it a squirt. And let me be on top this first time so I can stay in control. You can sodomize me doggy style next time."

When Richard had unloaded the gel into Carmen's backside, she opened the packet and unrolled the condom down over his waiting hard-on. Then she covered it well from the other tube, discarded the materials and straddled her 'owner'.

"Just hold still, Master, until I give you the word. Then you can ravage me as hard as you want."

Reaching down she guided member to her well-greased anus, pushed out and let herself down, impaling her ass on him. "Coo! Master feels so big this way. Just wait while I get used to your girth." 

When she was ready Carmen slowly sat all the way down taking his full length inside her. When she was sitting fully on his pelvis she let out a deep breath, smiled down at Richard and put her hands on his chest. "Now I ride my Master. Enjoy the tightness, my lord."

She took him slow for quite a while and then sped up as bucked and thrust from below. Sweat formed on his forehead from exertion and he watched her face go from smiling to slack. Her mouth hung open and her eyes rolled back as she bounced moaning above him. Eventually he groaned and jetted into her, filling the condom end and collapsing exhausted. His new plaything lay full length on top of him after he slid out of her and put her head on his chest. "Master seems happy."

"Plaything?" Richard began, "You said that I owned you so long as I needed you?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then Carmen, we're going to have to go collect all your things and Monday we'll take a trip to the Justice of the Peace. You're going to be mine for a long time!"



Asphodel's



"Mama, when Grandma said Mr. McBride was due in ten minutes, did she mean . . .?"

"She did. Yes, Grandma is in her sixties but she is still slim and trim and she still has a following of old, long-time clients who happily pay for an hour or so in bed with her. You may take the girl out of the party but you can't take the party out of the girl, even when she gets to be a grandmother. Now, I promised you a tour. Up you get."

They walked down a thickly carpeted hall with pictures hanging on the walls between doors. Poppy glanced up at a framed Vargas pin-up print and then did a double take. It was not a print. Quickly scanning the paintings on either side she realized that the hall of Asphodel's was an art museum of some of the finest of America's landscape and figure painting. Amazed she hurried after her mother who was opening a room. After the revelation in the hall, Poppy was unsurprised to find it furnished in fine antiques and decorated with exquisite but erotic paintings and bronze sculpture. The Gentian was no Motel 6!

Camellia seated herself in a bargello embroidered wingback and motioned her daughter to sit on the bed. Poppy's eyes ran around the room, up the posts to the curtains and hangings around it. She looked back at her mother.

"How much is all this art worth?"

"Rather a lot. We've been accumulating it since around nineteen hundred and as the fortune increased, we've bought more."

"Mama, how rich is Grandma?"

"Mother is the richest woman in the state. To give you an idea, when Apple issued its first public offering of stock my grandma bought a million dollars worth. She did the same with Microsoft. With Google it was fifty million. In years past Asphodel's has had to close for a few years at a time and pay some hefty fines whenever a "reformist" governor or attorney general was elected. No longer. There isn't a politician in the state who dares to go against us now. Not to mention that her numerous charities make her very, very popular."

"But without ostentation?"

"No ostentation and no daughters growing up to be Paris Hilton types, either. Why? Because every one of us knows from personal experience how the fortune was made and what it takes to make money that way. Now Cora tells me you want to be a kindergarten teacher. Sorry dear, I insist you major in economics and then go on to business school because Asphodel's needs financial acumen at the top. And to pay for school you will take a room up here like all of us have done for almost a century."

There was a quiet knock at the door and a white uniformed woman entered pushing a cart full of cosmetics. Camellia smiled.

"Ah, right on time. Stephanie I'd like you to meet my daughter Poppy. Poppy, Stephanie is our resident cosmetologist and electrolysist. She's going to depilate you so strip down."

"S—strip down?"

"That's what I said. Today she's going to wax you smooth. It hurts and you have to do it every month, but that's better than shaving every other day or so. In time she'll just kill all the follicles but that will take a while. Now, get naked and hairless and we'll go on from there."

Half an hour later, a naked Poppy sat cross legged on the bed savoring the relief provided by the Stephanie's finishing topical anesthetic. Her mother sat gazing at her in approval.

"Poppy, between now and June you have things to learn. Most are fairly easy but one will take practice. We'll start with that."

"In June I come here to work? A couple of us were thinking about hiking through Europe. Couldn't I wait a little longer?"

"No way, young lady. I'm not letting you hie off to Europe in the company of several of your worldly friends. You can take that trip after you graduate from college. Now," she opened a drawer in the night stand and removed a smooth, marble egg and a small bottle of lubricant, "we'll start with the basics. You 'slippery' this up and put it inside your vagina. The idea is to learn to pull it up as far inside you as you can and then gently let it down but not out. When you get to the point where you can just about yo-yo it, I'll introduce you to the next set of exercises. Here."

Poppy held out her hand reluctantly. The egg was about two inches in diameter and polished smooth.

"Now?"

"Now."

It was embarrassing having her own mother watch her put the egg inside but once it was there it actually felt good. "Hey, this thing is heavy. It's hard to pick it up."

"That's true. But when you can do it right it puts your price up markedly. There are only four of us who can. Besides your grandmother and I there's only Jane Cornwall and Dr. Feinberg."

"Dr. Feinberg? A psychiatrist works in Asphodel's?"

"She has for years. She started as an undergrad, paid for med school and became such an enthusiast that she specializes in therapy for sexual dysfunction. And here is the other thing you need to learn."

Camellia took out a small size silicone dildo and a box of condoms. She ripped a package open, put the condom to her lips and picked up the dildo. To Poppy's amazement Camellia put the tip of the dildo in the rolled up condom and ducked her head to unroll it over the dildo.

"There," she said, "all ready for some first class head with no coughing or gagging and no worry about whether or not the gentleman is carrying something unpleasant. And this way you can keep Steven happy and still stay a virgin until June."

Poppy took the proffered toy and preventative. "And the reason I should stay a virgin until June is . . .?"

"Not a reason, Poppy, more than forty thousand of them."

The girl dropped the dildo and her egg slipped out. "Forty thousand? As if forty thousand dollars?"

Camellia smiled very faintly. "That's correct, dear. By June you will be a fully trained courtesan and that means fully trained to Asphodel's standard. You are also the Asphodel-in-Waiting. Should you still be a virgin, as I hope you will, your grandmother and I will start the bidding at forty thousand dollars and it could go much higher very quickly. On the other hand, if you would prefer not to be deflowered by a complete stranger and will accept the lesser amount, a gentleman you know has already indicated that he is ready to pay that much."

"Which gentleman?"

"Your future father, Mr. Cornwall. And that will be only fair as I intend to start training Steven in the Tantric arts as a graduation present from his parents. By the end of the summer you two will be as erotically skilled as your father and I are and you will have a considerable nest egg put away for tuition and books."

Poppy got down off the bed and retrieved the dildo, the condom and the marble egg. She sat down in a chair next to her mother, looking down at the articles in her hands. "Forty thousand dollars," she muttered, "Andy will pay forty thousand dollars to be the first man to fuck his prospective daughter. Mother, that's creepy and disgusting."

"It is not. It is business, it is family and it will be fun because Andy is a great lover, one of my favorite clients. Once the man he is is inside the woman you will become you will understand, just as Steven will learn to become the man you will want while he is inside me. Now put your clothes back on, it's cold outside and you need to take your new toys home and start practicing. I'll give you a series of dildos in increasing size and as soon as you master one Stevie's size, I want you to give him his first blow job. He'll return the favor as he learns how."

"Uh, he already has."

"Really? Oh, good. How was it?"

"It was okay. I think he needs practice or some lessons or something. His fingers feel better."

*****

Steven Cornwall was almost trembling with excitement. Asphodel's! For graduation his father had actually taken him to the legendary Asphodel's. Boy, would the other guys be jealous when he told them—except that his father had sworn him to secrecy. Still, at least he could smile knowingly when his buddies would start their endless daydreams about it. He knew he would never be able to tell Poppy. 

Forcing his hands to remain calm, he slid the key card into the lock and saw the light turn green. He turned the lever to open the door—and froze. "Ms.—Ms. Trevethlyn?"

Camellia put her forefinger on his lips. "Hush, Steven."

She reached up and took him by the necktie and pulled him into the entryway and shut the door behind him.

"Mmm, what a fine stalwart young man you've grown into, young Mr. Cornwall. I've been looking forward to this. Poppy has told me that the two of you have never gone all the way and that makes me glad. You know why? It means I get to be your first and a man never forgets his first woman. And you have much to learn so I'll be teaching you. Your father has always been one of my favorite clients and I'm sure you will be, too." She reached around and squeezed his butt as she leaned against him, pulling him into the room. 

He tried to say something suave but all that came out was, "Uck?"

Camellia chuckled. "Mr. Cornwall there are a few rules you need to understand about Asphodel's. The client is always referred to as 'Mr.' and the woman always uses only her first name. So when you are up here I am Camellia and you, like your father, are Mr. Cornwall. Once we're inside the room I undress and while I do that you get out the envelope with the payment. Then I undress you. Ready?"

She undid the belt of her silk robe to let it fall open revealing her smooth, soft body. Steven's eyes bulged. Poppy had never gotten completely naked with him before. No girl had. And Ms. Trevethlyn had a delicious body, especially considering she was his mother's age.

He fumbled inside his coat to remove the envelope and hand it over. Camellia took it calmly, quickly counted the bills inside and put it in the dresser. She ran her hands down Steven's face and neck to shuck him out of his sport coat. As she undid his necktie and unbuttoned his shirt she continued.

"Mr. Cornwell, today you are starting a course in Tantra. We will have lots of fun together and you will have homework, breathing exercises and muscle strengthening. When we are done in six weeks or so you will be every woman's dream, a man who can take her to heaven and keep her there for hours, if necessary. Poppy is already your compliment, a woman who can drive a man wild so that when the two of you get together the 'festivities' will be amazing, especially to the vast majority of people. However, that can wait just a bit." She ran her palms up and down the sides of his bulging cock. "Right now you are a young man in serious need of getting your rocks off." Camellia put the condom on her lips and ran it all the way to the base of Steven's phallus. She stood and backed to the bed and lay back on it. "Come, Mr. Cornwell, take me."

At the other end of the hall Poppy opened the envelope and stared at it. 'Pay to the order of Poppy Trevethlyn forty thousand and no/100ths dollars' read the bank draft. Forty thousand dollars . . . She looked up at Andrew Cornwell with her mouth slightly open. This dear, kind man, the man who would eventually be her father  was willing to pay the price of a very nice automobile just for the privilege of being the first to stick his cock up her pussy. It wasn't like tomorrow she'd be any uglier, any looser or even a better lay given what she'd spent the last six months learning. It was just the point of being first. Men were very strange creatures, she thought to herself. She put the envelope in the dresser and put her arms around his neck.

"You did that to keep me from being auctioned off to some stranger didn't you Mr. Cornwall? I understand that and I'm actually grateful. However odd this makes me feel, I'm glad it's you and I'm sure that Mother was right when she said that I couldn't ask for a better first lover. It's funny, isn't it? I'm here naked with you. Mother is down the hall naked with Steven, and Daddy and Jane are in the master bedroom at your house while Aunt Cora baby-sits at ours." She would have continued but Andrew covered her mouth with his and began a long, slow deep kiss. His tongue roamed around the inside of her mouth and his hands ran warmly down her back. They cupped her bottom and massaged it. He let go and broke the kiss, leaving her panting. Before she could remember to help, he had his coat and tie off and was unbuttoning his shirt. 

Poppy recovered enough to undo his trousers and let them fall to the floor. She put her hands down the front of his boxers and fondled his manhood running her tongue back and forth across her lips. She knelt down and took off his socks before spending some quality time with his cock in her mouth. Mother had been quite specific about learning to use her throat muscles as well as her vaginals. I'm good, she thought, I'm really good. I'm going to make him glad he blew forty grand on me, I really am.

Andrew pulled her too her feet, picked her up and set her on the edge of the bed.

"Lean back on your elbows, honey. I'm going to make sure you enjoy this."

He knelt down and spread her thighs far enough to get his lips and tongue against her pussy.

"Ah?" Poppy gasped as he ran his tongue up the smooth surface of her labia. Soon he was sucking on her clitoris while licking. She whimpered and twitched. The twitching increased, the whimpers turned to moans. She could feel her juices flowing. I'm gonna—gonna . . . cum! She spasmed and cried out but Andrew didn't stop. Poppy's orgasm went on and on until she finally grabbed him by the hair and pulled him away. Panting, she looked up at him through smoldering eyes.

"Mr. Cornwall, be careful, sir. You will steal me away from your son!"

Cornwall chuckled. Stroking himself back to full erection he ripped open a condom and put it on. "Now, my lovely Poppy, it's my turn." 

He rolled her over and pulled her hips up. The view of her firm round bottom and swollen pussy brought a leer to his lips. He would have liked to just thrust into her to the hilt but taking care for her virginity, he rubbed his helmet up and down and slowly eased into her. Poppy sighed. It was done. Then, with a grin to herself, she gripped him with her internal muscles and began to milk his cock.

"Oh, you are good, little Poppy. Camellia has taught well. Yes, pleasure me that way. I'll give you just three weeks to cut that out."

Steven lay full length on Camellia gasping for air. She stroked his hair fondly and nibbled his ear lobe.

"Lovely man," she purred, "now I'm going to let you sleep for a bit. Then we'll start the lessons."

*****

Poppy sat watching the late summer sunset from the porch of the family fishing cabin. It had been quite a summer. Not only was her entire undergraduate education already paid for but there was a shiny, new Jeep Wrangler parked in front of the cabin. She heard gravel crunching as another vehicle came to a stop beside it. The sound was followed by the opening of the front door and Steven's footsteps that stopped at the refrigerator before he joined her on the porch.

"Cola?" He offered her a frosty can and sat down.

"Thanks." She took a long swallow. "There's a stew for dinner in the crock pot."

"It can wait. I'm thinking that since life is uncertain we should have dessert first."

"Mmm," she squirmed onto his lap. "Like the way you think. Mama says that last time you did her for a whole hour. She says you've got a diploma coming."

"Damn! I guess that means no more trips to Asphodel's until I can afford it myself."

"How did the interview go?"

"Great. Mr. McBride looked at all my high school transcripts, especially the AP math, and said that if I keep it up through engineering school there's a place waiting for me in his firm. His only requirement is that I don't stop playing the viola. I stopped at the store to buy a formal thank-you note to send to Azalea. I owe her big time for arranging the interview."

"Grandma says that it really was a favor to both of you. Mr. McBride only has daughters and neither of them is an engineer. Someone will have to take over the firm and we both like the sound of Cornwall and McBride, Ltd. Anyway, about dessert. Since you now have to make your own arrangements I could arrange for you to be the first man up my ass if you do me like you did Mom. And that virginity won't cost you any forty grand, either."

Steven slid his hands up under Poppy's T-shirt and bounced her breasts gently in his hands. "Now there's an offer I no canna refuse!"