Destiny at Mollie's Brothel

"Hmm. That sounds like fun!"

"And then they're teaching school. Visitors get to teach their prostitutes reading and arithmetic. They're pupils on Monday, and you can fuck them on Tuesday. I think I'd enjoy both parts of that bargain."

"Cool!" said Bob. "How long are you staying?"

"Five days. It's an all-inclusive package, including the girls. Even some alcohol is included."

"And then after that you get a date with Mollie. How many girls do you gotta fuck before she'll agree to see you?"

Jim laughed. "I don't need to tell her the truth, do I. She's gonna be more interested if the sheets were clean and if the food was good." He paused, pensively. "I'm an old guy. I may not actually fuck all that many."

"Take some blue pills with you. That'll probably help."

"Yeah, I'll do that. Good idea."

"As I say, I envy you, Jim. Not many guys can do that. Either we're married, or we don't have enough money, or our health is failing, or whatever. But go have a blast. Before you talk to Mollie you gotta fill me in on it."

"It's a deal," said Jim. And they ordered another round of drinks. Chapter Five

Ruthie's mother tried to keep her anger in check, but failed. "So you wasted sixty cents in bus fare! Do you know how long it took me to get that money together for you? I can understand if you don't want to work at Lagarde's, but why can't you make that decision here, for free? You don't need to go all the way down there and then come home empty handed without even trying."

"I'm sorry, Mama. But it all happened much faster than I expected. He just out of the blue asked me to take my clothes off. I mean, if they could've been a bit more gentle about it. How would you feel if somebody asked you to take your clothes off, in public, after not even five minutes of conversation?"

"I'd take my fricking clothes off. What do you expect in a brothel? That all they do is sit around and think about it?"

"Now I know better," Ruthie said.

It took a week and a half before, between the two of them, they'd managed to scrounge up money for another trip to Lagarde's. "I won't let you down this time, Mama," promised Ruthie.

So once again she walked through the steel door, and again the guard ushered her into the waiting room. Now there were two other women also waiting. They sat as far from each other as possible. Ruthie took a seat half way between the two.

There was no conversation -- everybody was too nervous. Ruthie eyed her competition. The lady on her left was older -- maybe even fifty. She had borne and nursed children. While dressed nicely with makeup, she didn't look like a prostitute.

The woman on her right might have been Ruthie's age, or perhaps in her twenties. She was a tall, big-boned girl, though well proportioned. Handsome in her own way, she didn't fit the sweet little sex toy stereotype. She had big tits, loosely covered in a blouse that exposed plenty of cleavage.

Ruthie recognized Ronaldo's footsteps. He looked round the room at his new charges.

"Ruthie!" he exclaimed. "I'm happy to see you again."

Ruthie was impressed that he remembered her name.

"My name is Ronaldo," he said to the other two. And who are the other young ladies present?" He looked first to the older woman.

"My name is Faith."

"And you, my dear," asked Ronaldo, politely.

"I am Felicity," replied the younger girl.

Faith, Ruthie and Felicity followed Ronaldo to his office, and sat down on the chairs in front of his desk.

"I need to see your ID cards, ladies."

Ronaldo glanced briefly at Ruthie's, and then paid careful attention to the other two. It took five minutes. Finally he returned the cards. "Ruthie, I took the liberty of having security check your information, and it is verified. So you've passed the ID test. Faith and Felicity -- security will be verifying your IDs over the next day or so."

There followed some brief conversation about what happens in a brothel, and then came the request upon which Ruthie had foundered.

"I now ask all three of you to take off your clothes. I need to see you naked. After that, I will send you to the doctor's office."

Then he turned to Faith. "Faith, I doubt I will be able to put you on the roster. European men have a taste different from us Poverans, and I'm afraid you don't have the body type to be successful with them. It's not your fault, and you should please not take it personally. Indeed, in my opinion I think you're beautiful.

"Now I won't know this for certain until after you take off your clothes, but if you're shy about that, you can leave now and not worry too much about it."

Faith started to cry. "Please give me a chance, sir. I will try very hard to make you happy."

"As you wish. If the three of you could please take off all your clothes and stand naked in front of the desk, then I can make a judgement who moves on to the the next step."

Felicity looked as surprised by this request as Ruthie had been. But apparently she had more courage. She started to unbutton her blouse. Faith, nervous for a completely different reason, was already half naked.

Ruthie wore the ankle-length skirt and button-down blouse common to rural women. She'd rehearsed in her mind how she was going to take her clothes off, and like Felicity she started unbuttoning her blouse. Her "bra" was a piece of cloth tied firmly around her bosom, holding it in place. She untied that and let her medium-sized breasts fall out. They were small compared to her countrywomen, but very attractive. The skirt was held in place by a drawstring tied in the front. She untied it and let it fall around her ankles. She had smooth, clear-skinned thighs, perfectly proportioned.

Her "panty" was a discarded pair of men's shorts. She'd meticulously laundered it the night before -- it couldn't possibly have been cleaner. But it wasn't fashionable, and couldn't compare to the lace panties she'd once seen in a foreign fashion magazine.

"Please take off your shoes," Ronaldo asked.

Ronaldo didn't care what they wore. He sized them up carefully, literally from head to toe. Without touching them, he moved closer, searching for blemishes, imperfections, and signs of disease.

"Hold out your hands, please."

His passionless, queer eye considered only how much money he thought they'd earn. Ruthie felt humiliated, but not as bad as she'd imagined.

"Faith, you may get dressed now if you'd like. But please wait here. I will be back for you in a moment. Ruthie and Felicity, please come with me, and bring your clothes with you.They gathered their things and followed him into the next room, with the lockers.

He found two empty lockers. Each contained a pair of flip flops that he removed for them to wear. "Put your clothes in here. I will lock it for you and you'll get them back when you leave. Right now you have to go see the doctor. After they'd hung up their clothes his card swiped the lockers closed.

They walked out into the hallway. A couple security guards stood there, obviously enjoying this part of their job. Ruthie kept a stiff upper lip and ignored them. Felicity tried, unsuccessfully, to cover herself up. Fortunately they didn't have far to go, for soon they turned into the doctor's office.

The waiting room was full. There were about eight women present. "Every hostess has to have a monthly health check. Most of them get that done right after shift change," explained Ronaldo. Besides Ruthie and Felicity, none of the others were naked. Instead they wore bikinis -- more than a thong, but not modest enough for polite company. Ruthie sat down in one of the few remaining seats.

"Congratulations," said the woman next to her.

"Congratulations? Why?"

"Because if you've gotten this far you've been hired. Ronaldo likes you. That will change only if they find a problem.

"My name is Hilda. And your name is...?"

"I am Ruthie," she said, smiling. "Should I be happy about working here? So far it's not a lot of fun."

"It won't be fun at all in the beginning. You'll hate it. But you'll make more money than you've ever dreamed of. And then you'll get used to the bad stuff. It still won't be fun, but it won't be all that bad. Parts of the job will be fun."

"What do you like about working here?"

"The people are very nice. Ronaldo is a kind-hearted man -- don't let him scare you. Elizabeth is also a good person. And I like our new owner -- Miss Mollie. She doesn't come all that often, but she's made changes that are good for everybody. Some of the guests are nice. Actually, most of the guests are nice. But some of them are real jerks. Perverts. You just have to deal with it."

Hilda was called into the doctor's office. Forty five minutes later it was Ruthie's turn.The doctor and her staff poked and prodded, took blood tests, wanted a urine sample, and asked some very personal, impertinent questions. Ruthie chose to tell them the truth. Chapter Six

The flight to London had been on time and uneventful. Jim had a six hour layover at Heathrow before catching the British Airways flight to Putaville. Finally he got on the plane, grateful for the Business Class seat. His seat partner was a youngish, attractive woman, perhaps forty years old. Jim just wanted to sleep, but she started to talk.

"Hi. I'm Megan."

"Hello. I'm Jim. I'm from Chicago. Where do you live?"

"I'm from London. I've been home visiting my folks. I'm actually living in Putaville right now."

"Really. Do you like living there? I've been there a couple of times, but never for more than a few days. That's long enough."

"It is a bit dull," answered Megan, with a smile. "But my job is there, so I have no choice."

"Where do you work?"

"I'm a country manager for the United Nations Development Program. I manage funding for projects all over Povera. I also handle Umashi, next door. So I end up travelling a lot. What do you do?"

"I'm retired as of about two months ago," said Jim. "But I used to work as a business broker. My previous visits were for business, but now I'm just going as a tourist."

"A tourist? Really? There aren't that many tourists in Putaville. Where are you staying?"

Jim really wanted to sleep. But he couldn't resist pulling this lady's chain. What was a UN bureaucrat doing flying around in Business Class, anyway? That put a lie to her claim that she was mostly helping poor people. At least that's what Jim thought.

"I'm spending five days at Lagarde's Hotel."

He watched for a reaction. It didn't take long. The smile faded. Hostility displaced the friendliness. "Isn't that a brothel?" Megan asked.

"Yes, it is." He was having fun with this. He looked straight at her, smiling.

"Do you think that's a very good thing to do? I mean, lots of people are trying to help Povera get out of poverty, and what you're doing certainly hurts that cause."

"Whaddaya mean? I'll be spending over $5,000, almost all of which will go to Lagarde's employees and local vendors. How is that making people poorer?"

Megan responded angrily. "But the women don't make any money. They're sex slaves."

Jim was matter-of-fact. "The average prostitute at Lagarde's makes $150 per 24 hour shift. They have 120 women on their roster as prostitutes. They have 60 or so other employees who make between $5 and $10 per day -- a generous wage in Putaville. And of that sixty, 30 or 40 who are female have an opportunity to sell sex on the side for extra cash. Anybody can quit at any time -- and they do. These people are not slaves."

"I take it you've spent a lot of time at Lagarde's," accused Megan. "You obviously know a lot."

"This is the first time I'm going as a tourist. As I said, I'm a business broker. The company changed owners last year and I handled the transaction. I made a couple of trips to make that happen. But I never got to enjoy the benefits of the brothel before. And since my wife died and I've become friends with the new owner, I thought I'd give it a try." Jim took a breath.

"And if you don't like what I do, just what are you doing to make Povera richer?" he asked Megan.

"We're working on establishing a micro-credit bank to lend to women-owned small businesses. That's been very helpful in other countries in helping women earn a living."

Jim knew more about economics than she did. "Until Povera has something to export, there is no way it will get rich. Without exports, all they'll be doing is cutting each other's hair. Tourism is a kind of export -- it brings foreign exchange into the country. Unlike your micro-credit, Lagarde's actually creates wealth. I agree that a brothel isn't the best export. But let me know when you have a better suggestion."

She didn't want to talk to him anymore. He reclined his seat and promptly fell asleep. Chapter Seven

By the time they'd both seen the doctor the waiting room was empty. They were asked to wait, naked. Half an hour later Ronaldo came to fetch them. He brought two bikinis with him, such as the other women had worn, and bid them to put them on. "You don't need to be naked all day. You've proven that you can do it."

They followed him down the hall to a small conference room. "Please be seated. Elizabeth will be here in a few minutes." They waited some more.

Elizabeth had a strong personality, commanding respect at first glance. Attractive, about 45 years old, and dressed conservatively, she began by admitting the truth. "I worked as a hostess for ten years before I became stage manager. I have fucked hundreds of men, maybe even thousands. Even today, I get bought out two or three times per week. So I know something about prostitution.

"Ronaldo decides if you get hired, but I can fire you. Once you walk out on stage you work for me. Actually, you work for our guests, but after them you work for me. I set the rules, and I will punish you if you break them. Is that clear?"

"Yes Ma'am," said Ruthie, echoed by Felicity.

"Let's start by watching the video that we show our first-time guests." Elizabeth showed the video starring Linda, described in the story Mollie Buys a Brothel.

"We are an entertainment business. Our guests come here to have fun. Anytime you are in a place where guests are also present, you are on stage. That means you have to smile, be friendly, polite, obedient, and cooperative. If you're sick, or angry, or too unhappy to be in showbiz, you need to get off stage.

"You will provide our guests the services normally offered in a brothel. He can ask you to strip naked almost anywhere in the building. Or he can take your clothes off himself. You need to obey this command immediately, with a smile on your face.

"He can grope you and fondle you. He can kiss you. You do not have to let him put his hands inside of you. He can fuck you with a condom. He can ask for a blow job. We have been unable to require condoms for blow jobs -- that's too unpopular. You can insist on a condom for blow jobs if you want, but you will likely lose the business if you do. Some of our guests have fetishes -- for example they might want to suck your toes. You do what makes them happy.

"You can refuse to do anal, or you can charge him extra. (Our extra charges are always $50 per service, of which you get $35.) Likewise, you can charge extra for toilet sports, or refuse to do that altogether."

Ruthie had no idea what toilet sports were, and didn't really want to find out.

"Under no circumstances are guests allowed to fuck you without a condom, beat or hit you, tie you up, or injure you in any way. If a guest tries to do those things to you, return his card immediately, move off stage and report the incident to Ronaldo. We will investigate, and if the allegations seem true we will remove the guest from the hotel.

"You can always turn down a guest. You do that by returning his card to him and moving off stage. You must stay off stage for at least half an hour. We will defend you if he has made an unreasonable request. On the other hand, if you routinely deny guests services which are normally expected in a brothel, then you will eventually be let go.

"There are three sins that will get you fired immediately:

• Stealing from guests, other employees, or the hotel.

• Running away with the guest's card, especially if you run off-stage.

• Hurting a guest, e.g., biting him during a blow job."

Elizabeth spent another half hour going over more rules and regs. She concluded with this peroration.

"Your first shift at Lagarde's will be very difficult for you. Men will strip you, grope you, fondle you, fuck you, ask for blow jobs, and other things besides. Some women can't do it. If you leave the stage on the first day without good cause, we suppose that you are just not cut out for this business. So just suck it up. Psychologically steel yourself for it in advance.

"But then things will start to change. First, after your shift you will have more money than you will likely ever have had in your life. And second, your next shift will be easier. And the shift after that easier still. Soon you'll find that you enjoy some parts of the job. Some hostesses like being naked in public. I do. It's a thrill. Others enjoy men taking them to dinner, or dancing. Sometimes they enjoy the sex. Most of our guests are older. They will be gentle and they will not want to hurt you. But they do want to have a good time. It's your job to make them happy."

Elizabeth then led them into the "laboratory," a small, carpeted room. Along one wall stood four cardboard cutouts of men, similar to what's used for target practice. Attached to each were anatomically correct male genitals, with an erect penis.

"The first thing you need to learn is how to put on a condom. Please get down on your knees in front of your guest."

Ruthie did so. She tried not to look at the eye-level prick. Elizabeth gave each woman a condom.

"Unroll about half an inch. Put it over the tip, and then roll the rest down the shaft." She inspected their work. "Ruthie, you should leave the first half inch hanging loose. It shouldn't be pulled up like a sock. But it is important that you unroll it all the way to the bottom of the shaft." Ruthie tried again, and got it right the second time."

Elizabeth assigned their next task. "I want you to put on the condom with your mouth. Put it over the tip with your hand, but then roll it down the shaft using your lips and tongue.

"Make sure your teeth are covered by your lips. Never bite your guest! That will get you fired instantly."

Felicity had more trouble with that than Ruthie, but after a couple of tries they both got the hang of it.

"So now lets practice blow jobs. The most important thing is to keep your teeth out of the way. One way to do that is to suck your lips in." She demonstrated using a rubber penis. "Then move your mouth up and down the shaft. He's going to want to shove it in to the hilt. Fine if you can do that. Otherwise use your hand to as a 'mouth extender'. He'll never know the difference."

"Most of them will want to cum in your mouth. That's pretty disgusting the first time, but you'll get used to it. You'll have a bottle of mouthwash in your bag."

After an hour of lab work, Ronaldo came round to fetch them. They returned to his office.

"If you told the doctor the truth," he began, "then you have probably passed medical inspection. We won't know for a few days. Give us five days -- that would be Sunday. You can start work on Sunday or later. On your first day you need to be here by 9:30 am so we can get you prepped. Here is a temporary ID card. It will swipe you through the front door turnstiles. Come to my office.

"When you come you will audition with all the other hostesses. It is likely that you will make the cast on your first day, though I can't promise that. It may be you'll have to come back on another day."