



                        INSPECTION

                            by

                         Joe Doe


AN MBA'S FANTASY ABOUT A NIGHT IN A BROTHEL COMES TRUE.

                         
 
My wife, Sharon, had fantasized about being a prostitute for years. 
In her professional life, she was confident, self-assured, and in 
control.  She made the decisions and gave the orders.   

But the fantasy of being a nameless prostitute, forced to sleep 
with the highest bidder, thrilled her. 

Prostitution is, of course, illegal in Las Vegas (Clark County).  
But, thereabouts, money can buy any dream.  So Sharon and I had 
sought out an accommodating brothel just across the line, in 
friendly, nearby Lincoln County.  We were standing in a secret 
room adjacent to the main parlor, watching through a one-way 
mirror as the lounging women on the other side of the glass 
waited for customers. 

"You realize that, once you go out there, you're playing for 
keeps," the Madam reminded Sharon, sternly.  "If you are chosen, 
I expect you to please the customer completely, no matter what 
is asked."
 
"She'll be chosen," I said confidently.  "And she'll do whatever 
her john tells her to do, just like a good little whore, won't 
you, Sharon?" I said, playfully patting her bottom.  "As a matter 
of fact, the more humiliating, the better!"
 
Sharon blushed hotly, looked at her shoes, and nodded. 

"There are many beautiful women here," the Madam cautioned.  "And 
she may well not be chosen.  I think Kara is especially fetching 
in her blue lingerie tonight, don't you?" 

The Madame pointed out a lovely brunette in a red teddy, who was 
casually reading a magazine.  Although she was indeed beautiful, 
she was no match for Sharon. 

"Sharon, why don't you take off your dress and show the Madam the 
lingerie you're wearing?" I suggested. 

Sharon looked at me dumbly, not certain if she had heard correctly.  

The Madam quickly responded to her lack of obedience.  "You heard 
the man!" she said, crisply.  "When a man gives an order, you 
jump!  Take off your dress...NOW!"
 
Sharon reached for the hem of her midnight blue cocktail dress and 
quickly pulled it over her blonde head.  My wife was a vision in 
blue: lacy blue bra and panty set, blue garter belt, very pale 
blue stockings, and glittering blue high heels.   

"Not bad," the Madam said, appraisingly, as her eyes swept up and 
down my wife's blushing form.  "But to really make a judgment, I 
would have to see Kara and your wife standing side by side."  The 
Madam opened the door that led to the main parlor and beckoned 
Sharon forward.  

As she passed the Madam, my wife reached to retrieve her dress, 
which was folded over the Madam's arm.  Her efforts were rewarded 
by a sharp slap on her posterior.  "I think I can make a better 
appraisal if you remain under-dressed," the Madam said, slyly, 
as she ushered my blushing wife into the parlor. 

The Madam was starting to explain to the others who Sharon was, 
when the bell at the front door announced a new arrival.  Within 
seconds, my beautiful young wife was standing in her scanty 
lingerie next to a dozen other women. 

It was time for Sharon to be shown off to her first potential 
customer....  

The client was a middle-aged businessman, short, bald, and very 
unattractive.  He looked exactly like the type of bloated, 
middle-aged executive whom Sharon helped down-size on a regular 
basis.  The only difference was that, today, he would be in 
charge, and she would be one taking orders. 

The fat man sidled down the line of girls, occasionally stopping 
to run his fingers through a favored girl's hair or to give a 
familiar girl a playful pat on the cheek.  When he got to Sharon, 
he stopped.  His eyes dropped to her shoes and then slowly ran up 
the length of her blushing form.  Sharon put her hands over her 
breasts, until a sharp command from the Madam forced her to put 
them back at her sides.
 
"It looks like we have a fresh new peach today," the dirty old man 
snickered. 

"You will be her first customer," the Madam replied.  "Her name is 
Sharon, and she used to be a business consultant.  She specialized 
in mergers and down-sizing, until she got down-sized herself." 

At the word "down-sizing," the man's face broke into a scowl.  
"I've been down-sized twice by little snips like her!  I never 
had much use for candy-ass consultants," he growled, angrily.   

The man paused, smiled and looked Sharon up and down appraisingly.  
"At least, not until now...."

The man nodded to the Madam, who immediately turned back to Sharon. 
"Pull down your panties, spread your legs, and put your hands on 
top of your head."   

Sharon looked at her in stunned disbelief.  It wasn't often that 
she was ordered to drop her knickers in someone's living room, 
especially not with a leering, smirking, middle-aged pervert 
watching her every move.
 
"DO IT NOW," the Madam said, harshly.
 
Gritting her teeth, Sharon reluctantly reached down and rolled her 
blue lace panties down to her knees.  

"Well, it looks like we have a real blonde here," the tubby man 
observed, approvingly.  "And I thought these management consultants 
were all fakes." 

Sharon put her hands on top of her head and obediently spread her 
legs as the snickering man complimented her on being such an 
"obedient bitch."  

"I'm just sorry we can't get all the little blonde bimbos at my 
office to drop their drawers and spread 'em the way you do," he 
sneered.  "If I could, I'd be a lot happier about having those 
uppity broads around my office!" 

Sharon flinched at the demeaning term, "uppity broads," but 
dutifully maintained her position.  She nervously bit her lip 
as the man toyed with her belly button and teasingly ran his 
finger down her stomach towards her crotch.  He stopped when 
he got to her pubic hair and asked the Madam whether or not 
it was okay for him to "try her on for size."   

The Madam smiled broadly and nodded.  I chuckled.  It was obvious 
that the Madam was enjoying my wife's panicked eyes as much as the 
fat man was.... 

The man's finger resumed its teasing journey, and he soon worked 
it into what he crudely described as Sharon's "steamy, wet 
beaver."  My wife ground her teeth and closed her eyes in shame 
and humiliation as the smiling executive played with her pussy 
like she was some 100 peso hooker.... 

"That's it, you little bimbo!" he taunted.  "Squeeze my finger!  
Hump my hand, you randy little bitch!  Prove to me that a female 
MBA is good for SOMETHING!
 
"I'd like to check out her rear blow hole, too," the man said, as 
he pulled his finger out of her twitching, quivering pussy.  "If 
she's as tight there, I think I might try the old Hershey Highway 
tonight." 

"Please...I've never had...'it'...anal sex," my wife squeaked.
 
The Madam immediately made a compassionate response.  "Since she's 
inexperienced, and since you are a regular customer, you can pop 
her anal cherry for an extra $10," she said to the executive.  
"Sharon, turn around, bend over, and spread your cheeks.  I need 
to show the man what his $10 will buy him." 

Sharon's standard billing rate was $400 per hour.  She couldn't 
believe that this randy pig was going to hump her in the most 
shameful way imaginable for a measly $10 extra!   

Her face burned crimson with shame, but I could also tell that the 
very degradation of the experience excited her.  She swallowed, 
turned, leaned forward, and obediently spread the shapely cheeks 
of her enticing bottom. 

"Now, that's the prettiest one I've seen for quite a while," the 
fat man gushed as he looked at Sharon's exposed asshole.  "I always 
knew these management consultant bitches were tight-asses, but I 
had no idea how tight!" he guffawed.  Sharon flinched as she felt 
him playfully finger her sphincter.  "You don't look so high and 
mighty, now that it's your ass on the line.  Do you have any pie 
charts or spreadsheets to explain how I'm going to butt-fuck you 
until you squeal?  Do you want to call a meeting while I bang you 
like a drum? 

"It's going to be exactly like it is at work," he jeered.  "Except, 
this time, I'll be on top.  I'm going to enjoy showing one of you 
corporate down-sizers what it feels like to get it up the ass," he 
chuckled.  "I'm going to put you in front of the mirror, so I can 
see the look on your face when I drive my point home." 

We had discussed the possibility that Sharon might have to 
perform oral or anal sex, and she admitted that the possibility 
both thrilled and frightened her.  Now her worst fear -- and her 
darkest fantasy -- was about to be fulfilled. 

The leering fat man turned to the Madam as Sharon nervously 
pulled up her panties.  "I'll take this frosty blonde bitch," 
he said.  "And I want her for a full hour."  

The man turned and playfully ran his fingers across my blushing 
wife's cheek.  "Since it's your first trick, darling, I'm going 
to take my time," he said, menacingly.  "You won't be so sassy 
when I'm done riding you." 

As Sharon was led up the stairs, she looked anxiously back toward 
the mirror to see if I was going to save her.    

The room was silent.  Sharon could see only a frightened blonde 
hooker in blue lingerie staring back at her from the mirror. 

From behind her, she could hear the Madam's voice.  "I think I 
was too pessimistic at first, Sharon.  An outside consulting 
firm has down-sized or closed completely several plants here 
this week, and we are expecting a lot of the affected employees 
-- both white-collar and blue-collar -- to come in tonight.  You 
are going to be a VERY popular girl!  And I'm going to make a 
pretty penny selling that cute little ass of yours," she chuckled.

Sharon staggered and grabbed the banister to keep from falling as 
she looked back in horror at the grinning Madam.  But, after a few 
seconds, her customer delivered a sharp SLAP across her shapely 
bottom, and she resumed her humiliating march.  "Time is money, my 
little MBA," the man chuckled as he prodded her on up the stairs.  
"And you have a busy night ahead of you."



Edited by C. Lakewood


              
