The House of the Rising Star

As soon as Keisha climbed off, she called to her customer in the chair. "Get up here, little dick! It's your turn now."

Ronnie rolled over and watched the timid Japanese gentleman take a good ass fucking from the black powerhouse who seemed to have inexhaustible reserves. The poor man climaxed more from fright than pleasure, squirting on the sheets without his cock receiving any attention.

Keisha pulled out, addressing her client. "You and I have more business to attend to, but give this beautiful woman a generous tip before she goes." The man pulled out $500. "What? Dig deeper, tiny dick; this girl put it all out there for you." He pulled out $500 more. Ronnie grabbed the stack of bills. The thousand would add nicely to her cut of whatever he paid the house.

"Thank you, sir." Ronnie winked at Keisha, "Thank you too, girl!"

Keisha whispered to Ronnie before she left: "That's the only time you'll ever hear black demanding yellow pay white!"

Emily came up right after Veronica left the room. "The touchy guy never left. He's been sitting in a corner, nervous as hell, waiting on you to come out. He wants another hour."

"Jesus, Emie, this bit with Keisha kicked my ass. I'm sweaty, tired, and in need of a shower."

"He's willing to pay $1500 if you see him right away."

"I never see him; I'm blindfolded! Aww, fuck, send him in in five minutes."

The session was eerie. Ronnie understood kinks and fetishes, but these cravings for touch scenes seemed bizarre. He never spoke, never had an orgasm, never did anything except touch her. At times she wanted to take the blindfold off, but then she concentrated on how much she was getting paid and calmed down. This time he took her hand, gently pulling her to a standing position. He knelt behind her, moving his hands over her ass, up and down, around in circles, for an hour. He then left. There was $500 on the coffee table.

.........................

The most exhausting session ever was when six NFL players came in together requesting the best girl in the house for a gangbang. Keisha begged off, hiding in her room. Two other girls also turned down the opportunity. Ronnie decided to take one for the team, but only after she was sure the money was right.

When they all squeezed into her room, the 6'4" defensive lineman explained what they wanted.

"We have a bet amongst ourselves about who has the most sexual stamina. What we'd like you to do is bend over doggie style. We will mount you one at a time for five minutes, pumping as hard as we can. If we come, we're out. If we are still going after five minutes, we pull out, and another takes our place. We go until the last man standing shoots his load. Can you handle that?"

Ronnie cringed. Four of the men were huge, well over three hundred pounds. She wondered if she could endure. Athletes turned her on; she often became aroused watching football players on the field. This session would be a challenge, but it would also be her best payday ever, so she agreed to the terms. After lubing herself thoroughly, the one hundred fifty-pound woman got into position on the bed in the doggie stance. Five of them clapped and cheered as the tight end got behind her on the bed.

He was 6'3" and all muscle, slamming hard for five minutes without breathing hard. Ronnie worried, for if they all went like that, she might have a problem. Her anxieties were somewhat relieved when the wide receiver, perhaps afflicted with a premature ejaculation problem, came within a minute. Veronica felt sympathy as the others razzed him.

The defensive lineman, middle linebacker, and left tackle all took their turns. Last was the punter, all 5'5" and 160 pounds of him. As he was climbing on the bed, Ronnie turned her head. She was stunned by what she saw. The smallest guy on the team had the most massive cock she had ever seen. It was a monster, at least twelve inches long and two around. She squealed as he went in, penetrating further than anyone ever had before.

In round three, the left tackle and the defensive lineman ejaculated, putting them on the sidelines. The brothel queen smiled as she thought to herself that these boys weren't as virile as they pretended to be. In round five, the punter shanked his kick with an illegal procedure that put him on the bench. The middle linebacker and the tight end were the only players left in the game besides Ronnie.

At the beginning of the fourth hour and the sixteenth round, Veronica was near collapse. Her vagina was sore, and her legs were exhausted. The two brutes showed no sign of weariness. She came up with a plan.

"Let's do a threeway. I like to fuck and suck at the same time."

The two men agreed. Ronnie went five minutes with the tight end in her mouth before switching them off. She was determined to nail the linebacker. She took him deep in her throat, oozing saliva down the length of his shaft while jacking with her hand. The sly girl reached under and put a finger in his ass, finding his prostate aching for her finger massage. Within a minute, the massive man blew his load. The competition ended.

The men thanked her profusely. When they walked out, Veronica picked up the $12,000. She took no more customers that day.

..........................

"I have a long-time wealthy customer who has a unique request. You don't have to do it, but it will pay very well if you do."

"Special requests usually do, don't they? What does he want?"

"Two sisters for two hours. He wants to watch the first hour and have a threesome the second hour."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"You'll make $10k in two hours, maybe more if he's extremely pleased."

"Jesus, Emie, are you in for it?"

"I like making that kind of money. We act and put on a show, just like every other gig."

"Yeah, but this is different; it's incest."

"That's why it pays so well. Try to pretend I'm someone else instead of me."

The billionaire was an important customer. The entrepreneur had started a gourmet cat food company in the late eighties investing a million dollars of profit into a fledgling company called Amazon. He had met Emily right after she bought the business. She always called him when she had a quality new girl. He would often fly in from Chicago to try out her recommendations. He enjoyed kink and certain other desires that many might call perversions. Emily had made an offhand remark that her sister had started working there, and the idea for the incestual session was born. He was bringing a lot of cash with him.

The appointment was set for the following Sunday, five days away.

In the meantime, "touchy guy" came in twice. The first time he had her stand while he again felt her all over. Twice Ronnie thought she heard him whispering short sentences, but she could not make out the words. She felt increasing stress with every visit, yet she couldn't object because the money was incredible for doing nothing except being there. That was the thing that made no sense; why pay so much for so little? Was he so rich that the money meant nothing? But what was he getting out of it? Why was he doing it?

The second visit that week was even stranger. Ronnie's oddball client knelt in front of the stool to touch her for the entire hour. Again, there were times when he said indecipherable phrases that to Ronnie sounded somewhat prayerlike. At one point, she thought he said "Mary" and at another, "I know you," but she was not positive. She sensed that he was in pain, but she didn't know why. Toward the end, warm drops of fluid hit her leg. The assumption that the whoremonger had ejaculated on her added to the creepy atmosphere.

He left soon after. Veronica pulled off the blindfold to see a stack of hundreds on the table. She was astounded when she counted $1000. Just then, she noticed the drops on her legs. They were blood, not semen.

...............

The two sisters sat on the bed facing each other. Ronnie had put on a black leather Rottweiler collar with a large metal ring dangling in the front. It was a last-second improvisation, perhaps an unconscious effort to distract from the primary element of the scene. Otherwise, they were both naked. The wealthy investor sat in a recliner in the corner, sipping Austrian absinthe on the rocks. He was ready to be entertained.

Veronica was anxious. There was no way she could make the first move; she could not even bring herself to look at her sibling. The scene felt unnatural to her. She understood the customer's motivation. This type of session plumbed the depths of sinful taboo, enticing those aroused by secluded rooms at the end of the dark hallways of sex. The only way that Veronica consented to this was for a huge payday, but as the moment arrived, she had her doubts.

Emily took the lead gently, starting with soft touching and light kisses to bridge the divide. There was a difference in the feel of this scene. Brothel sex is Playhouse 90, persuasive acting to satisfy fantasies. Working girls know enough not to let emotions arise as that is the surest way to create complications that have no solution. But this was drastically different as non-erotic feelings were already in place. The pair had to feel trust and confidence to proceed. They could not hurry it through, for the emotions involved were most fragile.

The younger sister knew this, moving slowly, gradually increasing the contact in their kisses. Veronica was passive at first, tepidly feigning engagement, but there was a tenderness in Emie's approach that appealed to her. She began to loosen up. Emily broke off briefly to sing in a loud whisper:

"Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play..."

Ronnie smiled, then shared a giggle with Emie over the creative icebreaker that broke the tension. The wall created by the incestual taboo started to crumble as the pair delved into the possibilities of their encounter. Their tongues probed more deeply into each other's mouths, giving and taking in an exhilarating slip-sliding dance of passion. With eyes closed, the sensations of intimate French kissing combined with loving affection for each other ratcheted the feelings skyward.

Their fingers roamed in deliberately delicate motions, through each other's hair, across receptive skin, to areas so sensitive that mere brushes of touch elicited moans of joy. The lovers submerged into each other's pleasure. Time evaporated as reality faded out of existence, leaving the lifelong soulmates absorbed in the consciousness of their lovemaking.

There was an intensity to the kissing that neither had ever experienced before. Both knew that women were more sensitive and patient kissers, but this went far beyond that. There was no desire to stop. They went past the hour allocated for the first part of the session. The spectator sipping his liquor did not object.

Eventually, Emily broke away, positioning herself on top in a sixty-nine. The cunnilingus lit raging fires inside both of them, with the sisters honing in on the most sensitive spots, instinctively knowing where they would be. They pulled their clits into their mouths, swirling their tongues in circles, furiously licking and sucking each other past the boundaries of absolute ecstasy. Their orgasms flowed into one another, some eruptive, others more subdued, but all as sublime shares of Paradise presented as heavenly gifts to each other.

The experience drained the two of them. Veronica cried in her sister's arms as Emily held her tight.

The voyeur with the big bank book sat silently for a while. He had paid for titillation, but the emotional depth of the scene had knocked him off balance, delivering far more than he had bargained for. Feeling a need for restorative serenity, he laid down between the two women, holding them close until they all fell into the bliss of sleep.

.........................

Three days later, the frequent flier was back. Veronica stood in her black blindfold for most of an hour while he slid his hands over her body, focusing mainly on her ass. Toward the end, he led her back to the stool. A minute later, a spray of warm droplets fell on her thigh, but this time Ronnie had to respond. The exasperated woman couldn't take it anymore, for she had reached the limits of her patient endurance of this strange behavior. She tore off the blindfold, then cried out with the shock of recognition of a man from her distant past.

"You! You son of a bitch!"

The man dropped to his knees in front of her. The only clothing he had on was a white loincloth. He had pressed a crown of thorns into his scalp, the blood streaming down his face.

"Mary! Mary, please..."

"You motherfucker!" Ronnie screamed at him at the top of her lungs. She opened a dresser drawer, pulling out a whip her Germanophile client had given her on his birthday a month ago. She wasted no time laying in on the creature before her, whipping him across the back, raising flaming red welts across his white skin.

Their screams got attention. Emily and Sugar Ray, the house bouncer, burst through the door in a panic.

Veronica erupted: "Get the fuck out of here! I'll handle this bastard myself. Get out! Now!" The couple went out as quickly as they had come in, but the shocked looks had not left their faces.

The angry hooker gave him thirty-nine lashes before stopping from exhaustion. Her best paying customer was on his knees, face in the carpet, covered in blood. When the whipping stopped, he raised himself back up, still kneeling. Without any stimulation, his throbbing erection ejaculated gobs of thick semen. The tortured man cried in the throes of agony and ecstasy as he experienced his first orgasm in twenty years.

When the tumult died down, Ronnie sat on the bed glaring at the man she had last seen when she was twenty-two. He had been a priest. She was a volunteer girl scout leader who had taken her troop on a field trip to see the historic missions in the LA area. The recently ordained clergyman had stared at her throughout the tour of his church, making Veronica edgy. Near the end of the visit, he stood behind her and put his hand on her ass, groping it while breathing heavily. Ronnie promptly turned around, driving her fist into his face, shattering the bones in his nose. He denied touching her, and as a result, she was banned from being a scout leader. Her only thought had been the protection of her girls, but he had never approached any of them, a truth she never knew. Now, they were together again, for the last time.

"It was only you, Mary, only you. We have met twice this time, but Father has reunited us many times over the centuries. It was preordained. We are actors on a stage."

After speaking, he removed his crown and loincloth, put on his overcoat, and walked out, leaving an envelope with $25,000 in it on the table.

.....................

Veronica took a month off, recuperating on vacation at a four-star hotel on Lake Tahoe. She decided that she would go back to the Horse and Bull for a year to make as much money as she could before retiring from the profession forever. But once again, her life was to take a drastic, unexpected turn.

On July 18, 2018, three tourists discovered the severely sunburned body of Reverand Bartholemew bin Boddhishakti nailed to a cross on a hill in Death Valley. They contacted the police, who found a bloodied lance and two sponges that smelled of vinegar at the base of the cross. They arrested seventeen members of a secret religious cult. Their claims that it was a suicide were discounted when no one in the group could explain how the minister put the nails in his hands.

A month after this horror in the desert, Veronica Andrews learned that her former client had left her 6.9 million dollars in his will. Rev. Boddhishakti, whose original name was John Smith, had been a Catholic priest but had been excommunicated from the church in 2008. He filed a wrongful defrocking suit and settled out of court for $200,000, a tidy sum that allowed him to start his own religion. He also invested $30,000 into Bitcoin at sixty-nine cents a unit, an insight he gained from a vision he had while fasting for forty days. His last will and testament read that he "was eternally grateful to Miss Andrews for giving him the most touching moments of his life." He described in detail the visions he had had of Veronica being the reincarnation of Mary Magdalene.

Veronica was shocked in disbelief. For a day, she thought about refusing the money, but Emily quickly crushed that stupid plan. Ronnie not only came around to the idea of taking the money but embraced it as Fate smiling upon her. She donated $50,000 to the women's shelter in Los Angeles and bought everyone at the ranch a bottle of Dom Perignon Champagne.

She moved to Portland, Maine, to be near her daughter. Six months later, she paid two million in cash for a nightclub on the beach called The Tentacles. A new chapter in her life had begun.