The Brothel

[Ambrosia_64]

(Reserved for Saedo)

I strode up the front door and opened it. From the street, it looked like another dingy old building, just like the dozen others on this block. But down a short passageway was a brightly lit door painted a lively green. Further signifying its importance was the brown-haired slab of beef standing guard nearby.

I interrupted the tune I was whistling to greet him. "Hello, Reggie," I called out warmly. "Busy night?"

"Fairly so, Mr. Badger, sir," rumbled Reggie as he rose to his feet. Reggie had clearly been hired for his brawn, not his brains. While I was at least average height, Reggie's chin was level with my forehead. However, despite my having told him that "Badger" was just a nickname on at least three separate occasions, he continued to use it as much surname.

I started to step past, but a hand the size of a ham blocked my path. "Um..., Madame Richardson says you weren't supposed to be let in anymore." I took mild solace in the fact that Reggie seemed a bit uneasy about telling me this; not everyone seemed as eager as Richardson to impede my desires.

I smiled coolly. "I imagine she was a bit heated when she said that, wasn't she, Reggie? Oh, the names she called me after that thing last week. My ears are still ringing. But such is the way of business partners - you don't always agree. Sometimes you even fight. But because you've both got money on the line, you work it out. That's what I'm here to do - workout with the missus of the house."

Reggie looked less certain, but his hand remained. "I don't know, Mr. Badger... She seemed pretty sure that you wasn't to be let in no more...."

My tone dropped a few frigid octaves. "Reggie, the last bouncer who told me to step off still walks with a limp. Get the fuck out of my way."

Reggie flinched and withdrew his hand as if I were on fire. I strode through the green doors and past the coat check girl. I heard her gasp slightly as I passed.

The main parlor had about half a dozen gentlemen scattered around. All had at least one or two young girls in snug dresses attending to their every word. Some men liked the illusion that they were seducing some lovely thing at a party rather than picking out a prostitute. I didn't see the point in such delusion, but I apparently suited Richardson's clientele. She'd never once missed an interest payment to me since I'd provided the funds to open her brothel.

Unfortunately, we continued to disagree over what my role was towards her enterprise. She seemed to think more no more than a banker and therefore should have no cause to drop by on my little visits. As I'd attempted to explain to her before, a banker wouldn't have loaned money to an illicit enterprise - particularly one run by a woman whose only experience was as a whore. That's why she came to me for the money; "Benny the Badger" Cumberland often investing in profitable ventures - particularly the illicit kind. But that also meant I had a vested interest in the enterprise, so I liked to drop by to check up on things. Always good to check on the quality of the product.

I glanced across the room towards the bar and found my most recent contribution to quality control. A comely blonde in a shiny dress was mixing drinks. She had lovely pale skin, but the left side of her face was dominated by an ugly bruise that was turning purple and yellow. Richardson had been furious about it at the time, but I felt my actions were justified. Admittedly a cock my size is a challenge, but the stupid whore should have known her limits and admitted I was too big for her. Instead, the bloody cow gagged while trying and nicked me. Given the ensuing pain to my member, I think the roundhouse I'd landed on her cheek was comparatively light punishment.

"Mr. Cumberland!" Judging by the tone, she was still displeased. I turned to watch my accoster stride towards me. Richardson was a gorge woman, albeit a tiny one. Her diminutive height could make any man feel like a giant.

Of course, not everything was undersized about her. Though her dress showed not a hint of flesh below the nape of her neck, I clearly covered what had to be one of the most magnificent bosoms in all of England. Just watching the fantastic orbs bounce with every purposeful stride was divine entertainment. Of course, like an iceberg, it was impossible to ascertain how much truly lurked beneath; modern corsets were tremendously powerful in such regard. To my minor dismay, I had never once seen her in an outfit even remotely revealing I had never seen in her in any outfit even slightly revealing; since she'd first approached me about starting the brothel, she'd always dressed in conservative elegance.

I watched her approach with a smile on my face. "Good evening, Madame Richardson. How kind of you to personally welcome me into our establishment." My charm seemed to have not the slightest cooling effect on the fire in her almond-shaped eyes.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

A ripple of alarm moved through the unoccupied girls-they watched him with lifted brows and small, nervous glances towards one another, all -very- aware of their Madame's displeasure, all slightly fearful of having to deny him as they had been told to do.

A red haired, freckled young lady in a pretty blue dress stole up the center stair case at once, slipping past the double doors that led to the Madame's office-and exiting with the Madame herself in tow.

Marie Richardson was a petite Italian beauty who looked surprisingly respectable given her calling. Dressed in a dark purple dress hemmed with black lace, the high collar hid even the delicate skin of her throat from lusting eyes, her skirts just brushing the tops of her black lace up ankle boots.

Her attire was proper but could not hide her shapeliness, the material not quite concealing her small waist or the flare of her hips, the softness of her chest.

Her dark hair was tied back in a school marm's bun, her expression just as disapproving. "Mr. Cumberland!" Dark eyes sparked with flame and fury, that Mediterranean temper infamous among the regulars. A lesser man would have fled at once.

She came to a halt with a near stomp of her left boot, skirts swaying forward from the suddenness of her movement. Curious eyes drifted towards the two, but she took great pains to make her establishment worry free-and would not ruin now by making a scene-though her eyes narrowed dangerously as he spoke.

"Mr. Cumberland, I believe I made it -very- clear you were not welcome here." She stepped past him, a glance towards the hall where her doorman SHOULD have been keeping the scoundrel out.

Her voice was low with anger, even as she attempted to take his arm and lead him out, her boots making small clicks against the floor.

No one touched her girls and got away with it. Not even him.

"I made this month's payment on time, and therefore we have nothing to discuss." She hissed.

 

[saedo]

I turned at the sound of my name. Well, that hadn't taken long, had it?

Judging by the look on Ms. Richardson's face, she was thoroughly incensed. It wasn't a bad look for her. Normally she was so calm and serious in our dealings. I found such pragmatism preferable in a business partner, but at times it seemed a shame that such a beautiful woman would be so devoid of life. The fire in her eyes today gave her face a hint of passion, though - quite beguiling, in my opinion.

She strode directly in front of me, her eyes glaring at me. "Mr. Cumberland, I believe I made it -very- clear you were not welcome here." She kept her voice low lest her other patron's overhear. Making a scene might be bad for business. Like I said: pragmatic.

I smiled congenially. "Madame Richardson, how can I be unwelcome in an establishment that would not even exist absent my financial contribution? Perhaps we should discuss this further in your office?"

Her eyes glimmered with furious intent. She placed a delicate hand on my arm and gripped it with surprising firmness. "I made this month's payment on time, and therefore we have nothing to discuss." She then pivoted slightly and tugged my arm towards the exit. For a brief moment, her long skirt pulled tight across her body and permitted me the outline of a firm buttock and thigh. The fabric slipped free and slid smoothly a heartbeat later, erasing the view, but it'd been a pleasant sight, however brief.

For a woman her size, she exerted considerable force. Understandable, given the outline of flesh I'd glimpsed. I'd heard tale of her personally throwing out drunken louts twice her size. Given her apparent fearlessness and the power lurking in her taut body, such tales seemed quite credible.

I, however, was not drunk, nor did my reputation contain any tales of my readily yielding to opposition. "Madame Richardson, how kind of you to personally escort me. Such a paragon of service!" I proclaimed pleasantly for those within earshot. I congenially placed both my hands around her upper arms just above the elbow and pulled her in affectionately.

Still smiling, I leaned down. There was no hint of a smile in my quiet growl, though. "That wasn't a suggestion, Richardson. You'll either walk me to your office now or I'll sling you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carry you up there." My grip on her upper arms tightened as I lifted her a couple inches off the floor. Not enough for anyone to notice, but enough to convey toher that if anyone was going to be moved against their will, it wasn't going to be me.

"Now I know that you don't want to disturb your clientele, so why don't you give me a pretty smile and then take me up to your office like a good little girl?"

 

[Ambrosia_64]

He didn't budge, still smiling that charming smile, looking for all the world as if he were on a pleasant outing somewhere.

Marie exhaled sharply as he spoke aloud, her dark eyes firmly focused on the hall she wanted to walk him down, the door she wished to slam in his face.

He'd have her fall to his feet in gratitude, work to placate him tirelessly-but Marie was no fool. Her brothel was making money. It was making them -both- alot of money. Not that she saw much of her own share-she paid her girls well. Some were saving for different, better lives. Marie was determined to help them see their dreams become a reality.

"-or I'll sling you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carry you up there."

Her eyes cut back to him, glittering with indignation. Cart her upstairs like -what-?! She wasn't a whore anymore. She was respectable, God dammit-

With no small amount of effort, she allowed her expression to relax, masking her fury carefully. Businesslike and proper, her other dainty hand came down on his tightly gripping fingers-and she turned and walked them towards the stairs, chin lifted slightly as if his grip wasn't bruising her olive skin beneath the sleeve of the dress.

Her girls were watching. The gentlemen visitors. She didn't dare let him undermine her, at least not publicly.

It wasn't just fury she was masking. He frightened her. When she had borrowed the considerable sum to start this place, she never imagined the sort of man she was getting involved with. A stowaway on a British ship, she had come to the city with the clothes on her back and nothing more-she had had no idea the man who had given her idea for a "respectable" whore house a chance was so dangerous.

She should have known better. Should have learned from Carlo.

"I overlooked your complimentary "visits" a long time Benny, but you went too far." She hissed as they climbed the stairs. She should call Reggie, but the brute hadn't kept the loan shark out-she doubted he'd do anything but hurt himself should things turn sour.

Marie's office was not quite the grand affair the rest of the Club was-a roaring fire danced in a rather mundane fireplace on the left wall, a large bookshelf on one side of it-a fancy Persian rug. In the center of the room was a large desk, two separate record books still open upon it-filled with spidery figures and accounting of the business as Marie worked wonders with the small fortune the brothel was producing. The large chair behind the massive slab of wood would surely dwarf a woman so small-while a dark green, velvet couch stood proudly against the right wall, it's clawed feet a different wood entirely than her desk.

With the door closed, her lips were again pursed in a frown as she moved to shake off his fingers. "No one abuses my girls."

 

[saedo]

I followed her into her office. As she shut the door behind us, I stepped behind the massive desk. The style was simple, but well-crafted. As with virtually everything about her, she prized quality and value.

I waited till she'd turned before I took seat in the heavy chair behind the desk. I knew it would only further incense her for me to take her chair, but I felt it time to remind Madame Richardson about the nature of our relationship.

"How kind of you to invite me into your office," I said magnanimously, knowing she'd bridle at the suggestion that my presence was at her invitation. "I enjoy our occasional chats." I pursed my lips and furrowed my brow as if in deep thought. "Now what should we talk about?"

I snapped my fingers. "I know! We can talk about proper grammar. For example, pronouns. I have noticed that you keep referring to things as 'my'. 'My girls', 'my establishment'." I smiled. "You mean 'ours'. Or to be truly accurate, 'his'." My voice became chilly. "Because all of this belongs to me."

I raised a cautionary finger to ward off her impending outburst. "Don't interrupt. I haven't finished."* I leaned back in her chair and propped my boots up on the desk.

"Don't think because your clientele includes ministers of Parliament and bankers from Broad Street that you are respectable." My mouth curled in a sneer. "This is a whorehouse. Your are barely a step above the whores you employ. These 'honorable gentlemen' being served downstairs wouldn't give you the time of day outside these walls. You are gutter trash in their esteemed eyes.

I jabbed an accusatory finger at her. "So spare me your uppity attitude. No one respectable would lend you a shilling to star this place. Without me, you'd still be earning a wage on your back!"

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Marie pursed her lips as he boldly seated himself behind -her- desk, propping his feet on her careful records. As he spoke her eyes narrowed, walking closer with the faint clicks of her ankle boots upon the wooden floor.

And then at the "uppity attitude" bit, she scoffed. "I am not the brute waltzing around striking women-mmph!" Her slight exertion as she grabbed hold and tugged the record book out from beneath his feet was feminine sounding, irritation clear in her tone and voice.

"They are -my- girls. Your investment, the starting capital, did not purchase mere -whores- off the street." She shook her head, eyes glaring at him as she flipped back the pages. "It bought this building, the furniture, the wine-and many a garment. The women came willingly, and free of charge thanks to -me-."

She slammed the book open before him, to the right of his arrogant boots-pointing out the evidence to this revelation. "As for "gutter trash"-do you realize how little sex takes place here? Entertainment, conversation, drinks-this isn't some bawdy whore house, you know it isn't-they pay for pretty company, some of these ladies have never even bed down at all."

Marie crossed her arms, one hip propped against the desk. "So no-you still cannot abuse them. And I -am- respectable. I receive requests for all sorts of important functions, and I send others in my stead because that keeps them coming. What do you possibly have against my business model? I make payments on time."

Marie nodded towards the record book. "Or should I seek another loan shark and pay off this bothersome debt? Then you get no girls and no cut, Mr. Cumberland."

And there, apparently, Marie felt she had him beat. Right now he was receiving interest and a cut of the profits. If he pressed her-well, she'd just end their business relationship by entering another with someone else! When she had come to Benny, she had been nothing more than a runaway whore ready to walk into the ocean-but NOW she was Madame Richardson, a woman who could make coins spin.

 

[saedo]

I know it's trite to speak of a woman being beautiful when she is angry, but Madame Richardson certainly was. I think it was because of the contrast with her normal demeanor. Always the cool, imperturbable proprietress as she circulated amongst her patrons. Seeing her face consumed with strong emotion gave her a delicious vibrancy.

As for "gutter trash"-do you realize how little sex takes place here? Entertainment, conversation, drinks-this isn't some bawdy whore house, you know it isn't-they pay for pretty company, some of these ladies have never even bed down at all."

I ignored her imperious tone and glanced at the open accounts book. Keeping my head aimed at the desk, I gazed upward at her using only my eyes. "Madame Richardson, do you presuppose that because I share the company of thieves, smugglers, and cutthroats that I am a nothing more than a glorified thug? That I cannot possibly understand the sophisticated intricacies of your business?

I pointed to a column in her accounting. "You make great hay over the significance of ys our gross income, yet you conveniently fail to mention the size of your expenses. Oh yes, your fat bankers and politicians spend a pretty penny to just drink whiskey and champagne with your girls, but you're not serving rotgut and bubbling cider, are you? No, well-aged scotch an French bubbly line your bar, just as your whores dress in silk and fuck their customers on fine linens and soft beds. Attracting such well-heeled clientele isn't cheap, is it?

I flipped a few more pages and sneered. " And where's your line item for bribes? Do you think the Wortham gang would let you run your little whorehouse on their turf for free?" I snorted derisively. "The only rreason you're not paying protection to them is because you work for me. Same thing for the coppers. They stay away because I make it worth their while not to interfere with my interests. Perhaps I should start charging you for that as well, hmm? Perhaps my cut should better reflect the value of the services I provide, hmm?

I suppose I could admire her courage. Rather than acknowledge defeat and yield, she squared her shoulders and tried an alternate approach. "Or should I seek another loan shark and pay off this bothersome debt? Then you get no girls and no cut, Mr. Cumberland." Courageous, I must admit. Recklessly so, of course, but courageous.

I sighed. "Madame Richardson, I can tell by your tone that trying to rationally engage you with words is a waste of both our time. So instead of trying to explain it to you with words, let me see if a physical demonstration is easier to understand.

I rose from her chair and stood opposite her. "For another 'loan shark' - truly a gross mischaracterization of what I do, by the by - to take over your debt, they would have to buy my out. Why? Because your debt belongs to me. And since you owe me, you belong to me."

By nature, my movements tend to be calm and deliberate. Most people mistake that for being slow, but that is a mistake. My right arm was already across the desk before she even started to flinch away. My hand buried itself in her dark tresses and took a firm grip. I suspect she was only just recognizing her predicament as I slammed her head down on the desk.

I twisted her head slightly so her right cheek rather than her nose hit first. The heavy accounting book softened the impact as well. Judging by her face as I snapped her back to vertical, nothing was broken.

"I do what I want with what I own. And you belong to me." Her head made a quiet thud where it hit the accounting figures. This time I caught the ride side of her mouth, because her lip looked swollen when I brought her back up.

I held her upright while I fumbled with my belt. "Now last week, I came to this establishment - which belongs to me - and attempted to be served. However, the whore did a terrible job, so I punished her performance. Why? Because she belongs to me."

I grunted softly as I finally managed to extricate my cock from my pants and flopped I across the book of accounts. Even soft, it extended across most of the page. Her eyes widened as all women's did. Even when I forewarned them, they all seemed incapable of believing its size till they saw it firsthand.

"See that little scar on the head where she nicked me with her teeth?" This time I slammed her head down a few inches away from my cock and held her there so she could get a close look. "Hurt like hell. Also kept me from blowing my load while it healed.

Ilifted her back to vertical and leaned in closer. " So here I am, balls heavy as lead, in need of some relief. And since your whores proved so inadequate, you're going to personally suck my cock. And do you want to know why?"

"Because." Thud. "You." Thud. "Belong." Thud. "To me."

I pulled her upright. Yup, her lower lip had started to bleed a little. That right eye might also be getting a little puffy. Still, just bruises for the moment.

"Before you begin, Madame Richardson, are there any questions?"

 

[Ambrosia_64]

He rose to his feet and she straightened up off the desk, still defiant-but somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear warning sirens. Cumberland was more intelligent than she had previously believed-but that excused nothing. Or at least, that's what she told herself, that's what steeled her resolve.

"You belong to me."

"Like hell I do-" Her unladylike oath was interrupted when his hand flew across the desk and into the dark, silky curls of her hair-she did flinch. Old habits.

A feminine noise of surprise, half squeak and half gasp slipped past her lips as her cheek bone became intimately acquainted with the careful annotations in her record book. Her hands found the desk to struggle-but he yanked her upright again, disorienting the prim and proper woman before slamming her back down.

Bastard, bastard, bastard-she's had worse, she tries to tell herself. The idea of being untouchable had gotten her into this situation, stupid stupid stupid-he fumbled with his belt, and Marie's hands went to the hand in her hair, trying to pry his fingers from her ruined, half undone bun. Marie was much prettier with her hair tumbling across her shoulders. She looked as young as she was.

How -dare- he expose himself to her-Marie fought to right herself but he was too strong, his blather unnervingly calm and collected even as he held her trapped.

She was dizzy, she felt a bit like retching, and this bastard was telling her how he -owned her- while he slammed her into the book, her teeth cutting her lip, that side of her face feeling sore and numb. No, never again.

Never again. Her boots scraped against the floor as she tried to find purchase and pull herself free, hands tight on his wrist.

"...any quest-" Marie spit on him, her dizzied shock melting into unbridled rage.

Oh God. That was a mistake.

 

[saedo]

The swollen lip likely interfered with her ability to get full force behind the spit. Still, enough of her spraying saliva made it onto my suit for me to get the message.

I locked glares with the contemptuous bitch for several seconds as I corralled my anger. I tugged upwards on her hair, forcing up on her toes. I had close to a dozen inches and several stone on her - not to mention a well-earned reputation for violence - yet she stared back at me unabashed. Reckless courage.

My left uppercut slammed into her torso. Her large breasts made it a little hard to target where her rib cage ended. When her breathe exploded out her with an ugly wheeze, I knew I'd hit my intended mark.

I released my grip on her hair and gave her a soft shove away from the desk. Her legs buckled and she collapsed to her knees. She wobbled a moment, then toppled to the floor.

I circled around the large desk and gazed down at her. One hand clutched her abdomen while the other fingered her throat. Her breath came in short, torturous gasps.

I'd been there myself. Before I knew how to fight, I'd gotten the wind knocked out of me like that. It's a horrible sensation. Your lungs ache for air, yet your aching diaphragm only permits only the shallowest inhale. It's like being on the cusp of drowning and slowly crawling your way back to being able to breathe normally. And the worst part is that there's not a damn thing you can do but lay there, gasping for breath like a beached trout.

I stood over her while she gasped. Since my cock's satisfaction was definitely going to be delayed, I gathered up the dangling flesh and stuffed it back in my path. I sighed. Should have been so simple, but she just had to screw it up.

I removed my jacket. "Damn," I muttered as I inspected the front. The blood from her lip had left little specks of dark red from where she'd spat on me. I held it over her and pointed. "You see that?" I demanded. "Cleaners will never get that out. Damn thing's ruined." I scowled and tossed the jacket onto her chair.

"Shouldn't have done that, Marie," I counseled her as I unbuttoned my shirt cuffs. "Shouldn't have done that. All you had to do was show a little humility and suck my cock. You've probably dine the same thing hundreds of times, so what's one more?" I shook my head disconsolately.

My sleeves now rolled up to my elbow, I reached down and grabbed hold of her dress just above the sternum. She'd recovered enough to put a hand on my wrist but she had no force behind it. I hauled off the floor. The dress has not been designed for such rough handling, so I heard threads snap and buttons pop. I slung her face down on the desk, her hips hanging on the edge. Her petite size meant her dainty boots didn't even reach the floor.

I am rarely without at least one knife on my person. I picked a smaller one for better control. Looking back over her shoulder, Marie saw the gleaming blade and began to struggle to rise from the desktop. She was still wheezing for air, though, so I was able to shove her down with minimal effort. "Don't move," I cautioned.

Pinning her with my left hand at the small of her back, I sliced into her dress with the knife. I keep the edge sharp, so the fabric parted easily. I cut a jagged gash along her waistline, parting the multiple layers of dress, chemise, and undergarments till at last her soft brown skin peeked through. I extended this slice from right to left as far round her body as I could manage without flipping her over.

I then switched my grip on the blade and hauled it downwards. I opened a fresh gash in the fabric all the way to the bottom hem brushing the backs of her leather boots. I repeated the process a few more times, leaving the lower half of her dress in shambles. Satisfied, I put my knife away.

Taking a generous handful of the shredded fabric near her thighs, I yanked on it sharply. Already weakened by my assault, the various layers of cloth tore free quite readily. In short order, she was naked from the waist down to her boots. Her buttocks were well-proportioned for her diminutive frame and her legs showed a pleasant muscle tone under her soft brown skin.

" But since you did do that, Marie, I have to do this. A man in my position can't let that kind of thing go." I reached across the desk and picked up my car from where I'd left I leaning against the chair. I gripped it in my right hand a few inches below the intricately etched silver handle. "Definitely should have picked the blow job, Marie."

The hickory whistled slightly as it descended. The sharp crack it made as it collided with her soft buttocks was swiftly drowned by her scream.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Merciful Mary-

Hair curtaining her face, Marie could briefly pretend this wasn't happening. Collapsed on all fours, her hand to her abdomen while the other clawed at the floor, she struggled to draw in a breath even as her stomach rolled.

In gasps and short starts, she managed to get a little air, weakly looking up from the floor to stare warily at his shoes as he spoke down to her. Bastard. Miserable...miserable bastard.

"N-never again Cumberland." She managed as he reached for her, yanked her up by the collar of her dress. Her lip and cheek were numb, but dammit-she was no whore. Not a whore anymore!

Shoved down on the desk, dangling boots kicking slightly, Marie decided she hated this man. She'd...she'd kill him! With her bare hands if she had to! The glitter of metal caught her attention and made her realize the "Badger" might do her in first.

He cut through her favorite dress, and Marie's stomach rolled again. "Don't you dare-" She wheezed, her hands grabbing at the desk, seemingly to crawl away from him-even as he picked up his cane. "Benny-!" The heated anger became a sharp scream before Marie clapped her hands over her mouth, terrified to be found like this, terrified someone would know her humiliation even as her vision blurred.

Pretty, olive skin reddened, easily marked.

 

[saedo]

The first swing impacted did directly across her buttocks. The impact set her rump to quivering in a manner I found rather appealing. I watched her delightful ass for a few moments, enjoying the view.

The second swing caught her higher up, not far from where her cheeks swelled out from the flatness of her lower back. The angle I has caused my swing to graze and rebound off at an angle rather than sink into the flesh. Definitely a bit too high.

I swung lower the next time. The cane smacked solidly into the flesh again. I repeated the process a few times more, extending downward each time. Ultimately I left seven red welts across her buttocks and the backs of her thighs.

I considered leaving more. She was struggling not to scream and yelp, but couldn't fully contain herself. The half-strangled noises she did admit were quite entertaining.

Still, I'd managed to keep my strokes quite uniform. The resulting collection of parallel red welts had a pleasing symmetry to it. I didn't want to disturb that by having another blow overlap one of the previous ones.

"That should do," I mused aloud. "I suspect you won't be sitting down for the next few days. Hopefully when in future you have the impulse to defy me, you remember the price to be paid."

"Still," I continued, "there remains one additional matter to address. As I mentioned earlier, you employee's carelessness left me unable to seek sexual gratification for nigh on a week. This has left me with a powerful hunger in need of satisfaction.

"Now, with your naked rump placed just so, I could seek my relief here." Indeed, Marie's pussy was visible betwixt her thighs. The plump outer lips had the same olive hue as her skin, but slightly picketed. I placed a finger along the outer edge and grinned when her body twitched.

"However, I like to think I am not intolerably cruel towards others, inflicting pain just for the pleasure of the screams I produce. As such, I wonder if satisfying my lust with you might cross that line. I've been with many a woman, but never one as tiny as you. No doubt your whores have told you how large a man I am - even painfully so for some of them. So in seeing your delicate flower, I wonder if perhaps I'd be too much for your little frame to bear.

I shrugged. "So Madame Richardson, how do you suggest we resolve this? Do I sate my needs on you? Or shall I call in one of your whores to service me instead?"

 

[Ambrosia_64]

The pain and humiliation had brought tears to her eyes, water she defiantly wiped furiously away when he finally stopped. She had dared to hope he'd leave her alone now-but as his infuriatingly calm voice continued, Marie realized that would not be the case.

He touched her and she jerked hard, ramming her knees into the desk painfully as she again tried to right herself off of it. "Benny, for the love of God, I'm not on the menu-I'm not a whore!" She had seen him, earlier. She knew he wasn't exaggerating, and the anxiety and the fear were beginning to overtake her anger. But damn him. Damn him.

"I'm the madame, I'm making sure there's a profit and-and you can't run the place without me!" She wouldn't call a girl in. She wouldn't subject them to his abuse any longer!

"Y-you're not welcome to them. To any of us-let me go!"

 

[saedo]

I heard the distant sound of drums in my head as Marie continued to refuse me. "Why you stupid little cunt!" I growled. "You still refuse me?!"

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. My reputation for being a right-fucking-bastard preceded me throughout the city. You did not cross Benny the Badger. Period. End of story.

That this silken beauty had even dared decline me at the outset was so unexpected that I'd almost been amused at the novelty. Certainly never had a dame be that bold before. Most were too terrified to even consider it.

But even with my reputation, every so often there's a bloke who just has to test it. I suppose there was bound to be a cunt with the combination of balls and stupidity to do the same. So I gave little Madame Marie a beatdown like I would any ignorant tosser who balked me.

That should have solved it. Stupid cunt should have been on her knees begging my forgiveness. I expected her to be offering me every girl in the place to save her own skin.

But instead, she was still refusing. The fucking gall on this little bitch!

I'd had a couple of blokes who didn't know when to quit. Just a few. Refused to bend. Hard to the end. I'd beaten each of them to death and dumped the mangled bodies in the river. Never would have expected I'd find myself doing that to a girl barely half my size m

But as my grip tightened on my cane, I was distracted by another instinct. Perhaps it was because I had was so pent up thanks to her lousy whore nicking me the day before. Perhaps I'd enjoyed listening to Marie squeal in pain more than I expected. Perhaps there was something appealing about a woman who was obviously afraid of me and yet still courageous enough to stand her ground.

Whatever the cause, I found my angry impulse to destroy conflicting with my aching lust. No, I wanted more than merely ending her. Eventually, perhaps. But not just yet.

My hand gripped the back of her skull and forced it hard against the desk. "I ain't asking no more," I declared, unable to keep my voice from trembling with anger. "Now I'm taking."

My efforts with the knife had left plenty of cloth strips of her voluminous skirts. I selected a few lengthier examples and grabbed for her wrists. Her wiry strength had her squirming against me, but I resolutely bound her wrists together behind her back.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Her already tender lips and cheek were forced painfully against the unyielding wood as he spoke, sending a panicked twill of fear down her spine. "No-" She said into the desk, a futile twist of her shoulders, struggling against his stronger, heavier form as he caught and dragged her hands behind her back.

"You can't! " Her panicked protest as he bound her delicate wrists turned to cursing, furious Italian, her boots trying to find purchase against the desk, desperate to escape. She wasn't a whore, she wasn't available, she wasn't being pimped out by Carlo any fucking more!

She had worked so hard to be respectable and quasi independent, light years from her teenaged days under Carlo-figuratively and literally-and here she was, trapped and bent over her own desk by a brute, about to be fucked whether she was a whore or not, maybe even killed whether she liked it or not.

She was going to kill him, Marie resolved angrily, tears stinging her eyes. Kill him. He was, he was making a mistake!

 

[saedo]

"You can't!" she squealed, still managing to buck against me even with her wrists bound. "You can't! You ca-mmmmmphf!"

I pulled the strip of skirt tight with her mouth wide, catching her mid-sentence. "Shut yer bloody trap. There's only one hole of yours that needs to be open!" I snarled.

The bit of cloth limited her ability to articulate. Her imperious demands became muffled grunts of angry syllables.

Satisfied, I used one hand to free my cock while keeping her pinned against the desk with the other. "Bloody hell, you've got me fucking hard!" I declared as my throbbing shaft rose in front of me. Indeed, I could scarcely remember a time in months that I'd been so engorged.

Marie's juicy little twat peeked out enticingly between her thighs. The plump lips of her pussy virtually disappeared behind my swollen head, so I aimed in their general direction and pushed. Fresh sounds erupted from her mouth as the tip nudged inside her tight canal.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Marie screamed against the gag in outraged indignation-a sound that quickly devolved into a feminine, hopeless cry of pain and misery. She squirmed, struggling to get away or relieve the awful pressure in her nether regions. He was too large-she wasn't sure she could take him. She was even tighter, almost painfully so for him due to her fear and the length of time since she'd last been penetrated.

Part of her couldn't believe this was happening, the other was nearly resigned to it-what had she expected? Never to be abused or controlled by a man again? It was not a woman's world. She'd gotten too comfortable, assured of her untouchable nature.

And here she was, pinned to the desk beneath her own business partner, her thighs and bottom bearing painful red marks from the caning, her body forced open by his hard member. She couldn't even "zone out" as she had during her prostitution days-he was hurting her too much, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps tinged with sounds of pain and exertion.

 

[saedo]

"Fucking hell!" I grunted as I leaned into her. My girthy cock found most women slightly snug, but Marie's slender pussy was incredibly tight, even for one so petite. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were a virgin and not a fancy whore."

Judging by the muffled howls, I was unquestionably far too large for her. Had she just been a whore, I might have requested another rather than face the struggle. But this little bitch had spat in my face. I wouldn't take that from the Queen herself, let alone some uppity madam who owed me fealty. There was no way I was letting her off easy.

She showed no signs of giving into the inevitable. She had no more chance of bucking me off her than I had of becoming King, but she continued to struggle all the same. The fabric of her dress darkened with perspiration as she twitched and squealed beneath me.

In truth, her efforts only hardened my resolve. And my cock. My throbbing shaft felt like like it was two feet long and made of iron. I plowed slowly into her steamy depths, inch by steady inch. "Bet you wish you'd called in one of your girls," I taunted. "I'm going to bury my prick in your fucking womb before I'm through with you."

 

[Ambrosia_64]

His taunts only made her feel miserable, the last of her anger having finally been stamped out by pain, fear, and humiliation. He made her feel as if she had chosen this. She shouldn't have gotten angry. She should have...what? What was she supposed to do, let him abuse them? Call one in to cater to him in her place?

Marie sought to protect the women under her charge, keep the monsters at bay. She could have no more turned one of them over to Benny than sprouted wings and flown. He forced himself further and Marie fought back a sob, her eyes blurred with frustrated, humiliated tears. Her struggles were getting her no where-if anything, he liked them. Her legs were bent at the knee between his, and she lowered them, tried to relax those tightened inner muscles-and giving a pained cry when he slid further as she failed.

Her body spasmed around his violation, dry inner walls slickening in self defense, her hands tightened into fists. Hopefully it would be over soon. God, she hoped soon.

 

[saedo]

I sank as deep as her tight confines would let me. That proved not nearly enough, so I pulled back and rammed it in a bit harder. Marie wailed from behind the gag in her mouth as I gradually battered my way past her resistance. Took a bit, but her pussy gradually yielded to my iron-hard cock

It helped that her barely moist interior soon began to gush with her juices. A steady trickle seeped out with each stroke. Eventually the loud squelch of her pussy gripping my cock nearly matched the muffled cries she made.

I felt at last the thrill of satisfaction as I sank fully home, my scrotum bouncing against her. Short as she was, it felt like my cock was buried in her around her ribcage. I gasped from the effort and decided to quit resisting the pressure in my groin. I bellowed like a mad bull as I exploded deep within her.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

He began to fuck her in earnest, finally having forced his way into her tight confines. He was too deep, too large, and Marie hoped to God he wasn't permanently damaging her.

Every thrust pressed his body into her and against the welts his cane had left, his pace increasing-he was going to burst. No, no, no- if she had been able to articulate, she might have begged him not to. He was already too large, she was already in so much miserable pain-and that final humiliation she just-perhaps she should be grateful for the gag, so that in the very least-she had not groveled.

It didn't stop the scream that ripped from her throat and crashed against the gag and her full lips, the brief, renewed struggle as he flooded her. A sob wracked her small frame and she dropped her head against the desk, forehead resting on a ledger, her breathing ragged and uneven as she tried to catch it, dark curls hiding her face.

At least it was over. He'd gotten what he wanted. Now he'd either kill her or leave her alone.

Marie wasn't sure if she preferred the latter to the former or not.

 

[saedo]

I leaned against her round little ass as I recovered. Even my softening cock seemed too much for her warm canal to contain. The pressure and heat felt like a bite of fresh apple pie.

I eventually pushed back, my thick shaft making a loud, wet noise as I was slipped free of her. Marie didn't move, her body still perched on the desk. I helped her by dragging her onto the floor and putting her back up against the desk in a semi-upright sitting position.

I reached out to the ragged edge of her dress and tore off a fresh strip. Marie winced at the sound but did not meet my gaze. Fine.

"Now I hope you have learned your lesson," I began, using the cloth to wipe down my glistening cock. "But knowing what a troublesome bird you are, I bet you haven't. So let me tell you what I expect will happen."

"You're going to want to get out from under my thumb. "But if you had that kind of coin, you wouldn't have needed to borrow in the first place. And don't count on finding yerself another lender to replace me. Your establishment is in my territory. Any of my rivals will know that I won't tolerate another bastard putting a finger in my pie."

I tossed the slightly damp cloth in her direction and began to dress. "So you and me, missy, we're not going anywhere. So I think you had best learn to accept it."

"Now as you sit there with your belly swollen with my seed, I've half a mind to take you again right now. You may squawk a bit much, but I right enjoyed fucking you. But I have other appointments to keep, missy. But I'll be back, don't you worry.

"But next time, I'm not going to ask for one of your girls. You've made such a ruckus about it that I've decided to give you that. No, I'm going to ask for you personal. And you're going to give it to me." I grinned. "Or maybe you like it better when I take it?"

I turned away and chuckled. I was still laughing by the time I exited the building. I was already looking forward to next time.

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Hated him. Hated.

He pulled her of the desk and propped her against it on the floor, but Marie wouldn't look at him. She found a spot in her lap and tried to burn a hole through it with her gaze.

He talked down to her, laid things out. The words lingered in her mind, but she still didn't look at him. Best learn to accept it...?

Hated him.

"I'll be back, don't you worry."

Hate.

But the last bit, the final, parting shots-well, Marie only had so much hate and anger in her. She was abused, sweaty, hurting and sore. She slumped forward as he strode out of her office, trying not to cry again.

He'd exit to find the establishment empty of gentlemen. An anxious group of girls stood on either side of the large doors and stairs, wide eyed and giving him a clear, fearful berth-only to scurry into the office for their young madame.

The atmosphere had certainly darkened, in here.

///////////////////////////////////////////////

Benny had been right. Despite her solid business model and collaterol, no one wanted to touch the Bordello, because no one wanted to anger the Badger. And her other, more respectable appointments, though promising, still left her short the coin she would need to pay him off.

Marie preferred not to have multiple business partners in the first place, but surely anything would be better than this.

Wearing a prim black lady's hat turned just so on her head and a dark blue, conservative dress and high necked jacket that was trimmed with black lace and buttons, the petite madame cut a nice figure on her walk, looking more like a pretty governess than anything.

Her button up ankle boots tapped as she slowly climbed the bordello stairs, unlocking the door and entering the quiet establishment. It was daytime, the girls were all asleep-as she herself should probably be.

Marie was tired. She needed to look over her ledgers and find a way out. She was tempted to just run-but worried what would become of the women under her charge should she do so. There was a way. She would find it.

If nothing else, she now had a snub nosed revolver in the top right drawer of her desk.

She made her way up the stairs, reaching for the knob on one of the heavy doors and moving inside.

 

[saedo]

"Ah, Marie, there you are," I declared happily from behind her desk when she entered. Her chair was a bit small for my frame, but look on her face when she saw me sitting in it more than justified the discomfort.

"I know it's only been a few days since last we saw one another, but when I woke up this morning, I had a tree trunk dangling between my legs. I just knew you were the one to see about that."

I grinned like a cat with a mouse as I ogled her from across the desk. It was impressive how much she could downplay her fabulous curves inside her demure dress. One would think her a proper lady of modest means, not a denizen of the criminal underclass like me.

"I dropped by to see you, but the girls told me you were out. They suggested I come back later, but I suggested I would wait and that they wouldn't say anything to you about my being here." My grin became noticeably cooler. "We agree my suggestion was best.

I flipped through the ledger I'd opened on her desk. "Looks like business is good. Profits keep in this direction, you might pay off your loan in a year or two. Course, you'll still be wanting the other services I provide since you are in my territory, but we can leave such discussions to a future date."

Marie still stood in the doorway, so I beckoned her. "Well, don't just stand there; come in. You look like you're about to leave what with your hand still on the door knob. Doesn't seem very hospitable, if you catch my meaning"

 

[Ambrosia_64]

Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch!

Those dark eyes had flared with temper and surprise before she reeled herself back in, dropping her head slightly so that her hat hid her gaze from him, just a slight purse of her lips to reveal her inner thoughts.

Her fingers tightened on the knob and she was tempted to turn and bolt down the stairs-but she'd have to return eventually, and again-she didn't want to abandon the girls under her charge.

With great reluctance and a moment to gather herself, she shut the door. Marie removed her hat, unbuttoned and removed one dainty black glove from her wrist. She was cool and collected, as if he wasn't sitting in her chair at her desk, as if he hadn't raped her days before.

Her heart, however, was beating hard and fast in her chest, a cold sense of fear spiraling down her spine. She removed the other, just as calmly. She moved into the room, her button up ankle boots tapping against the wood before she paused to drop her bag, hat, and gloves on the mismatched green couch against the wall.

She had the gun. It was in the drawer of her desk. How she would get to it was another matter, and then-would she really do it? Gun him down in her office?

Marie crossed her arms, her dark eyes finally settling on him with a mixture of trepidation, anger, and fear in the dark depths. You could not tell as such from the reserved expression on her face, however, or the cool way she spoke.

"Mr. Cumberland." She finally greeted with a small incline of her head. "...you're in my chair. I trust you find it comfortable?"

 

[saedo]

I watched her with almost fascination as she composed herself and entered the room. She set her belongings down and removed her gloves. Somehow even that seemed sensual. I was eager to see more.

She, alas, went no further. With her hands bare, she set them atop her shapely hips and glared at me from the center of the room. " Mr. Cumberland, you're in my chair. I trust you find it comfortable?"

I almost chuckled. After our last encounter, I should think be meek before me. Not this little fiery one. Oh, she was definitely more polite this time. Her bold dismissiveness was gone. But she wasn't quite yielding to me either. That little spine of hers must be made of iron.

I tilted my head to the side and spoke in teasingly soft tones. "My, my, aren't you direct, little Missy? No 'how do you do' or even a 'hello', but straight to business. Not very hospitable, Miss Marie, if I do say."

I grinned, belying my feigned interest in her manners. "But since you do ask, I think the chair a wee bit small and delicate for my tastes. Good for someone so prim and proper as you, maybe, but not someone like me self." I placed my hands on the desk and rose. "Not for me, I think."

I circled around her desk and sat down on the front edge facing her. Even partially seated, I still had a height advantage on her diminutive stature.

The new position also put me within arm's reach of her, which I expected would further displease her. Anticipating her next move, I held up a hand before she could move around me to put the desk between us again. "No, no, you're fine there, Missy. I prefer we do this next part without anything in between us."

"I want to discuss the security of your establishment," I continued. "I'm thinking that I should provide some. A couple of my own hardy chaps. We'll dress them in a fancy suit so they don't spook your high and mighty clientele, but they'll keep an eye on everything for me. Oh, and you, of course."

I reached into my coat pocket and produced a small, four cylinder revolver. Barely more than a derringer, really. "I assume that's why I found this in your desk in a drawer so near to hand. Seems a shame that a pretty little thing like you feels so unsafe in her office that she needs one of these." I turned the object over in my hands. "A right shame."

"Fortunately, you won't be needing that anymore, will you, Missy?" I smiled warmly. "So I'll be holding onto it for you." I opened up the chamber and let the cartridges tumble to the floor.

I tilted my head. "I don't suppose you're feeling so a-feared of your surroundings that you carry a weapon on your person, too?" I mused aloud. "I suppose you could tell me one way or the other, but I'm not sure you'd be entirely honest with me. No telling what you might have beneath all those buttons." I gestured at her with my right hand briefly, the now unloaded gun pointing vaguely in her direction. "Why don't you show me?"