Chapter 79

In the bleary half-light of what must have still been the earliest hours of the following morn, raised voices awoke you.

You were surprised to be able to hear anything at all, having spent the proceeding evening with nothing but muffled darkness and physical sensations. The rough treatment of your last few customers must have dislodged your outfit's headpiece. Your body ached and itched from the restrained position it had spent all night in, but such complaints seemed dulled by the simple fact that there was nothing you could do about them. Perhaps the endless, switch-rhythm pounding your muscles had gone through had actually helped to supple them a little? Your asshole stung predictably… you could feel the dried-on mess of semen which had dribbled out of it, down towards your exposed, hanging testicles. Similar amounts of crusting substance covered your chin, cheeks and even hands. Nobody had bothered cleaning up after themselves… you were the rag to wipe on after all.

"Where. Is. My. Daughter?!" Demanded one of the voices, hissing indignation clear even though he still sounded like he was on the far side of a tunnel to you.

The reply you recognised as the sweetly, condescending tones of the Mayor when he had you right where he wanted you. Full of feigned surprise and gentle mockery.

"Gone AWOL has she, Robert? Believe me, I know how difficult raising these late teens can be…"

"My Emily is nothing like that hellion of yours! She's never done this before!"

The Mayor's voice took on a consoling tone. "Well all the more reason not to overreact now, dear boy. She's 18 now… an adult in her own right. You've got to relax and let her explore those boundaries, else she'll never find her place in the world. All politics aside, I'm telling you this parent to parent: You've got to loosen up a little."

You could almost imagine the aggressor's shoulders slackening slightly, struggling to shake off his rival's charm. You had witnessed and experienced the way the brothel's most prominent customer could wrap his words around you, gently persuading that up was down. It was clearly the skill which had got him this far in life and even his would-be opponents were not immune.

"I suppose I have been rather wrapped up in the campaign of late… It is hard to find time for anything else. You think she's just trying to tell me that?"

“I’m sure of it… You’ll get home and she’ll already be there waiting, mark my words.”

This, you knew to be a lie. The Mayor knew exactly where Mr Stevenson’s daughter was; though you yourself couldn’t see exactly where she’d ended up. You wondered how Emily had handled her first night of being a sexual plaything? Presumably she was in a similar state to you: holes agape and drenched in the dried up leavings of a hundred strangers. Could they really get away with this right under the nose of her clearly overprotective father? What would he do if he found her, tied and bound in skin-tight plastic and quite clearly a virgin no more?

The Mayor was still talking… his words simply dripping with honey and wicked delight.

“You’ve got to learn to live a little, Robert. Can’t just give everything to the job. That’s all we do in these little soirees: let off some steam. It’s all above board, all voluntary. Look: this young lady’s just gagging for her next go-around, even after a whole night of it. Go on… indulge yourself. What harm can it do?”

The men had drifted away from you, off into another corner of the hall and out of your still limited range of hearing. Surely the Mayor wasn’t suggesting what you were thinking? Surely his political rival wouldn’t be so easily persuaded to partake? As your narrowed senses closed in again and a fresh wave of tiredness took hold, you couldn’t help but fret that this would be a step too far. That finally all this debauchery would come back to haunt the household.

As the world of dreams reclaimed you, they were filled with just one quiet, possibly imagined sound: The wet slap of flesh upon flesh. A lullaby you were more than acquainted with.