The Foundation Ch 08

8

A Palpable Hit

The lighting faded as a spotlight appeared at the far end of the room. Rosemary Kingdom stepped into the glare.

"Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of Mr and Mrs Hummings and Hummings Enterprises, I hope that you are enjoying your evening here with us in Highview Mansion. We would like to end the formal part of the evening with a display from a troupe of special guests from Harmon County Prison." A murmur as loud as a car engine whirled around the room as the spotlight vanished. A figure moved in the darkness towards the centre of the room, and even in the faint light her profile attracted animated whispers. When the spotlight hit the first performer, wearing only black stockings and high heels, she froze in the 'display' stance, though with her hands secured by chains at the wrist and elbow. The gasp from the audience was heard by the drivers waiting in the driveway.

Most of the men in the room rose to their feet for a closer study of the woman who, though chained and virtually naked, exuded an air of sexual power and poise as she swayed her hips to the rhythm of the music with slow liquid movements sprinkled with the occasional thrust of her hips. There were a few shouts, but most of the audience watched in silence as the performer was joined by two companions, a blonde prisoner wearing thigh length white boots and a simple pair of cuffs and a third completely naked woman who took advantage of her free hands by stroking her vagina to the rhythm of the music. She exchanged a passionate kiss with the first woman before sinking to her knees to grasp her partner's hips and lick her vagina as the bound captive flayed her hair in a display of sexual excitement. The fourth convict circled the tables in heels and black gloves, allowing hands to explore her moist cleft as she massaged her massive breasts.

All four girls were soon among the guests at the tables and before long tabletops were cleared of crockery and chairs moved aside to enable the performers to demonstrate the sexual artistry that Carmel De Bois hoped would guarantee a successful passage for the new Special Status Bill. The low pulse of the music soon mingled with groans and moans as the four visitors from Harmon County Prison showed everyone in the room how they had earned the term of superwhores.

Half an hour into the 'performance' Daphne Maxwell joined Carmel and Rosemary to witness the scene from the stairs. The room was now complete dark, so they could only hear events unfold on the tables. There were gasps of amazement and an occasional outraged laugh as the guests admired the agility, energy and depravity of their entertainers.

"I hope the girls will last the course."

"Miss Kingdom," Daphne replied. "I would worry about your guests."

Carmel's handbag was soon brimming with napkins and slips of paper containing the email addresses or telephone numbers of distinguished diners eager to book the Harmon Prison girls for a party or a private show, but she knew without question that the performance had been a success when, shortly after one in the morning, Mr Hummings himself walked her to the front door and insisted upon his personal chauffer driving her home.

The dawn light was seeping through the drawn curtains when Rosemary Kingdom finally sat down by the ornate staircase leading up to the bedrooms. A young woman appeared at the top of the stairs, holding one of the performers by the arm, the tall brunette with slim legs who had been the first performer.

"We've finished with this one. What do we do with her?"

"Miss, that's fine. Leave her here with me."

The naked girl walked down the stairs to stand before Rosemary.

The command was no more than a whisper, but the girl drew her legs wide apart and set her hands on her buttocks, though Rosemary thought her slow to react and there appeared to be a proud stare into the distance. Rosemary, in her sweaty white shirt and smeared black skirt, was tired after a demanding and filthy evening that had stretched from dusk to dawn and had required her to clean the whores. She had spent nearly four hours scrubbing their genitals and their arseholes before sending them out again to entertain the guests loitering at the door, eager to take possession of the women. Sometimes they would change their clothing, only for them to come back missing or torn within a few hours. It was a dirty business and, even using gloves, Rosemary found scraping semen from these women a degrading act. The whores seemed to be unashamed, holding their ankles and grunting to the beat of the brushes disappearing into their holes while the young 'trophy wives' at the door giggled at their embarrassment. The guard Alimova told her that months of training had prepared these 'superwhores' for every disgrace, for every form of sexual humiliation. They were simply shameless.

The whores were prepared for this disgrace, and probably deserved their miserable fate, but Rosemary did not expect to be washing out whores' cunts when she applied for the job of personal secretary to the most influential industrialist in Houston. She had not seen Mr Hummings since the convicts' performance, so she did not know his opinion of either the prison whores or her management of the entire event. Now, sitting at the table as she rested her tired body, she decided that the naked girl standing before her, legs splayed while she caressed her firm buttocks, was insulting her with an insolent look.

"Lower," she muttered and the girl shuffled her feet to widen her gait. Her damp vagina now hung no more than two feet above the carpet, but the pose only highlighted the girl's physical prowess and her demeaning allure.

"You think you're so great, with your massive tits and your big arse." The girl did not answer. "Well?" Rosemary came to stand over the whore. "Well, are you a superwhore? Do you think you're better than everyone else? Better than me?"

"I am a filthy slut who deserves to be punished." The words were demeaning, but Rosemary was convinced that the convict slut, hired for the evening to entertain Mr Hummings' guests, was ridiculing her. She slapped her across the face and then slapped her again before walking away to the mansion's open front door.

A handful of limousines remained by the trees, awaiting a call from the butler to take their employers home. Mr Elroy Simpson, state senator and renowned bon vivant, stood by the open door, enjoying a cigar.

"Congratulations Miss Kingdom. A fine show."

"I hope you're right."

"I know so. I heard Jack before he retired speaking with Mr and Mrs Kenton. They said it was the best party in years, and they were particularly impressed by what Mrs Kenton, rather endearingly, called 'the dancing girls." Jack said that he would arrange another 'dance' very soon."

"I thought they might be a bit too much."

"Miss Kingdom. I am fifty two years old and have, I am proud to state, led a 'full' life. However, I have never seen anything to compare with those whores. They were stunning, but they were also ... relentless. Well done, Miss Kingdom, well done. You have a hit, a most palpable hit."

He accepted her offer of coffee before leaving for home.

"Your 'dancer' appears to be attracting the interest of your cleaning staff."

The girl remained where Rosemary had left her, but a handful of maids had gathered at the foot of the stairs, chattering in Spanish as they examined the superwhore.

"My political inclinations drift towards the right these days, but my dear old granddaddy was a bit of a radical during the New Deal. If he was here today, Miss Kingdom, I am sure that he would feel that this American working woman here had earned the right to stick that duster handle up that young lady's rear end."

"Senator Simpson, I believe that the time has come to share our wealth." She turned to the senior maid. "Elsa, why don't you have some fun with this convict whore and your feather duster."

Elsa looked confused until Senator Simpson recited Rosemary's message in Spanish. The group of cleaners all laughed as one of the women reached into her cart and brought out a wooden dustpan brush, unscrewed the head and brandished a thick stick about a foot long.

"Even better," Simpson muttered. He leant forward to speak to the whore, who continued to stare straight ahead as if this conversation did not concern her. "Missy, it's time to expect a surprise visitor."

Elsa set the end of the handle against the girl's anus and pushed. No progress.

Rosemary leant down and placed a thumb on her chin. She stared deep into the whore's blue eyes.

"Bitch, open your hole or I will open it for you." A moment after Rosemary's warning Elsa's efforts were rewarded as the wood sank into the prisoner. "I think Elsa and her friends need to know how much you enjoy having a wooden pole rammed up your arse."

"Yes Mistress. Please bugger my holes. I want a huge cock in my cunt. I'm just a whore. Shove that right up my hole. I want ..."

"I think its time for some coffee. Cream and sugar, Senator?"

Rosemary walked to the kitchen to the sound of the girl pleading with Elsa to push harder or find a wider stick, pleased that her 'dancing girls' had proved to be, in the words of Senator Simpson, a palpable hit.