The Little Red Bordello

  The Little Red Bordello

  By Lily Magee

  Copyright 2013 © Lily Magee

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  The Little Red Bordello

  Dust clung to Jim’s jeans, shaking off in wisps where his sweat hadn’t soaked through the denim. It had been a hard four days but the steer had now been transported from El Dimina, Texas state all the way to Arkansas. This time was all his own and the dollars he had remaining after whiskey and cards was burning a hole in his pockets. It was time to visit Miss Suzanne.

  Dusk had long fallen and behind him the lights and laughs and smashed bottles and screams of the town drifted into the long night. Madame de Bombadier’s little red bordello was a shabby old place to be sure, but then, the Madam was much too smart to sour the tempers of the local ladyfolk by drawing attention to the place with a lick of paint. Not for her to holler to all and sundry what their menfolks were really doing when the saloons ran dry and their men still thirsted. Lord only knows, the heat in this neck of town would make prunes of even the finest, juiciest fruit. Ought never marry if only for that reason. Old Jim had been saying that for years, though in his quieter moments, he did consider that had Miss Suzanne not taken to whoring and had he been the kind for wooing, he may just have asked her. Then again, maybe it were the whoring that kept her so ripe. Hell, as long as she kept her legs open and her cunny damp, he’d keep going at her as long as he had coin.

  He entered the bordello’s lounge and removed his hat, careful not to tip it so as not to drop dust over the worn chaise longue. The wooden floor was warped and stained from repeated splashes of rosewater and across the pink painted room, before three closed doors and worn velvet drapes stood Madame de Bombadier. As soon as she laid eyes on him she sashayed across the room, all exaggerated hips and rouge and cleavage. “Why bonjour Monsiuer Jones, what a real pleasure to see you again,” she drawled. Everyone in town knew that Madame was as french as a haggis but no one in Brightwell cared to view her little affectations with anything other than benign amusement. Well. Perhaps the ladyfolk had a different view.

  “Ma’am,” he nodded, hat in both hands. “Is Miss Suzanne accepting visitors this evening?”

  Madame took his hat from him with a flourish. She sighed, her head tilted and with an exaggerated pout. “Ah mon dieu, but I am afraid not today. I am afraid all my girls are entertaining this evening.” She caught his frown of disappointment before continuing, “and they said they intended to keep each girl all the night through and I can believe that to be their true intentions. Big gang of gentlemen, seven all counted. Paid up in advance too.”

  JIm scratched his ear.

  “Well ma’am, I’ll beg your pardon, you know I ain’t an educated man, but I was under the impression you only had three girls. Unless you been holdin’ out.”

  “Holding out? Why no sir, it is exactly as you say, seven gentlemen and three girls.” She paused for thought before shaking her head sadly. “I do hope they don’t ruin those girls.”

  Jim ran his hand through his hair and looked at the floor with a grimace, feeling the ache in his balls and dreading a night of his own comforts before Madame touched his chin.

  “Ah couilles! If I cannot trust you, Monsieur Jones, truly who can I trust, eh? I cannot offer you any of my girls and you will be back on the trail very soon, no? Perhaps I can entice you with a slightly different pleasure this evening?”

  “Pray what did you have in mind ma’am?”

  Madame de Bombadier clapped her hands in glee and wiggled at speed to the back of the lounge. With a theatrical sweep, she flung back the velvet drapes to reveal a narrow little corridor lined with wooden panes and plush burgundy paint.

  “Please now, if you would follow me.”

  "Well this ain’t somewhere I've seen before Ma'am."

  "Ahhhh! But of course," she smacked at his arm playfully, "I must be sure that my dear girls are safe. And also that they are as, shall we say, as skilled as they will need to be." Jim was not a subtle man but he could not help but note the red flush that crept up the Madam's throat. He cleared his throat. "Well I'm sure that your interest is purely professional ma'am." She regarded him with a salacious eye. "But of course mon cherie. But of course. It will of course be a great assistance to know what your opinion is of what is seen. Excuse me monsieur, I must reach past you. Quiet now, monsieur."

  She advanced a few more feet before turning to the wall and with a deft twist of the wrist, she pulled two plugs from the wood, each adorned with a tiny bronze hand. Standing on tiptoes, she peered in briefly and, satisfied all was as it should be, she turned and gestured Jim to join her. Stooping slightly, he gazed inside.

  He recognised the room well enough - he had visited Miss Suzanne several times in that boudoir with its violet satin drapes and the soot stained lanterns. What took his attention immediately was the man's backside, pale with with tan striped arms and neck where his shirt didn't cover. He had hold of Miss Suzanne's smooth, soft hips and he was rutting her like a beast in full heat, her creamy flesh pink and plump like a fine ripe fruit and fulsome titties wobbling with the impact of each thrust. With each of her delightful yelps, her mane of golden curls was tossed back and forth and a wave of jealousy struck Jim hard. A growl passed his lips and Madam de Bombadier clasped her hand to his mouth in horror. "Monsieur, no! No, they cannot know about this little secret of mine," she hissed. Jim looked to her. "Monsieur, I must ask you to control your reactions or else I must ask you to return another day." He inhaled deeply, taking in Madam's perfume of honeysuckle, rosewater and musk and wished he hadn't. His member stood as tall and durable as Mount Lemmon and he knew if he headed to camp now, he would have the worst ache in his balls he had ever known. He peeled her hand from his face.

  "I shall be controlled. You shall have nothing to fear from me Ma'am."

  It was a real test of his resolve. The burgundy walls in the narrow passage seemed to contract and throb with every burning heartbeat that passed through his prick. Madam regarded him momentarily before nodding and with a smile and a curtsy, she swept silently through the passage. Jim watched her arse sashaying down the passage and wondered if he ought to have propositioned Madam directly. On second thoughts, he didn't want to risk a bar from this little pleasure house.

  A sudden cry from the room drew his attention and he quickly returned to the show. His left hand slid down to his member and through the denim, he began to gently stroke his balls.

  Miss Suzanne had, it seemed, been surprised by the addition of another fellow. Like his bulkier friend, he was a working man, a hotchpotch of tan and pasty skin but unlike his friend, he was built like a wire trap, short and slender and boyish, all veins and thin strong muscle. The slender friend had positioned himself underneath Miss Suzanne and was stroking her sweet little cunny whilst Bulk continued to rut her, all the while suckling at her lovely plump titties. Bulk seemed not to mind. In actual fact, he would groan whenever Slim's fingers strayed and touched his balls. Slim's erection belied any idea that his member in any way suffered for being attached to a smaller gentleman. Barely constrained by his longjohns, Slim ground his crotch into Miss Suzanne's hip. The room was filled with whooping and hollering, in the background but try as Jim might, he could not see how many guests Miss Suzanne would be entertainin
g tonight.

  Miss Suzanne looked fair fit to burst, so much attention she was getting to her cunny and titties. Her lips were fixed in a perfect “oh”, eyes raised high in her head and low throaty moans escaping her lips every time Slim made contact. At that moment, Jim would have sold his soul to have been stood but a few feet closer with his member prepared and willing for those beautiful "oh" lips.

  A new urgency became apparent for both Miss Suzanne and Bulk and a symphony of cries rose in a crescendo through the room. Miss Suzanne cried hardest and longest, eyes squeezed tight and a flush of red fluttering across her chest and face as she went to fall. Bulk grasped onto her and pulled her back onto him, arms across her chest as he rutted her with sharp urgent thrusts until he too with an almighty roar, a cry passing his lips with every final thrust as he filled her with his seed. As they came to rest and catch their breath, Miss Suzanne cried, "Now, now, please, you must stop stroking me! It needs a moment's rest, it's sore sensitive." Reluctantly, Slim retreated and Miss Suzanne showed her appreciation, stroking Slim's now bare naked erection as she recovered her breath. Bulk's prick shrank and slid out of her, a little string of pearls hanging from her sex.

  "I reckons that's a good ol' warm up" laughed Slim as he pulled Miss Suzanne, giggling, towards him. She groaned dramatically and whined "Oh my days, I must insist, I need a rest!" Slim laughed again. "Missie, you got all my friends here who need some of your tender sweet care, we ain't got the time to let up the pace now!"

  With that, he grasped her waist and pulled her onto him and with a single thrust, he buried himself in her to the hilt. Holding her hips high, he hammered into her with a fury beyond any bull Jim had ever seen. Miss Suzanne, by compare, was hollering like a fresh branded steer. Jim grunted, his prick now very much out of his denim and between his calloused fingers, transfixed by the scene. Miss Suzanne cries had a tinge of pain to Jim’s ears and he scowled, angrily vowing to himself to always be a more tender lover to her whenever he next visited but her yelps soon turned to lusty cries of encouragement. Slim was glowing, a sheen across his chest and face evident even in the grimy light, his face fixed and determined. Jim knew that look - the look that said there was no world, no creatures in this sphere but he and the golden ringletted goddess captured above him.

  The whooping continued afresh and one more body came into play. A smaller, tan man with a paunch that hung low strode over, his erection swaying in upward salute with every step. With a creak that the whole building felt, he stood atop the bed and with no ceremony or invitation, he silenced Miss Suzanne’s mouth. Brought from the immediacy of the fucking she was getting below, she wrapped her pretty little mouth around his prick and held his balls and base. Paunch would have none of this and grabbed her by the ears, pushing harder and harder into her mouth. Miss Suzanne resisted a little, giving a coquettish gaze and a firmer grasp on his base to protect her throat but Slim, evidently aware of his new bedfellow, drove into her as deep as she could bear. Despite herself, she shrieked; a delightful, sordid little sound. Paunch wasted no time and thrust deeply, causing her to choke a little. Slim fair burst laughing and resumed his pounding at pace.

  “Aw Missie, you’re a-dribblin’ on me now! Come on, you gotta take care of all o’ my friends.”

  Paunch gave a hard smile.

  “An’ your pretty little throat can take all of my prick. Every bitty inch of it.”

  Jim paused, teeth gritted. Nothing would have pleased him more than to head on in there and take out Paunch. Yet he couldn’t look away. Miss Suzanne steadied herself and gave a most gallant effort. Her throat swelled with cock and the movement of his member up and down her throat was clear to see. Never had Jim seen such a feat, nor a woman so abused. Thoughts ran unbidden through his mind, thoughts of wild and stupid promises to make Miss Suzanne an honest woman, even if he never took her as a lover again. Anything but let her suffer so. Yet his hand pounded his erection ever harder.

  Her ringlets stuck to Paunch’s hands, a mixture of hair, sweat and spittle and Paunch groaned, swinging his head back.

  “Larry boy, I think we’ve got ourselves here a very talented little lady. Think you can put her through her paces?”

  A deep, grumble emerged from the darkness. “Ain’t no way I’m touchin’ her shithole and I ain’t being left with just hands.”

  Slim chuckled breathlessly.

  “Why, ain’t no reason we can’t be sharing. I’m sure Missie has more tricks up her sleeves than that.”

  The meaning was not lost on Miss Suzanne and her eyes widened like moons but Paunch held her too tight to allow for protest.

  “Yessir, I do believe we can. She don’t mind now, does she Pavel?”

  So Paunch had a name huh? Pavel grinned and looked Miss Suzanne dead in the eyes.

  “I ain’t hearing no complaints here.”

  With a cruel thrust, he drove himself hard into her throat and a little gag came from her.

  “Careful now, she ain’t vomiting on me down here. Pull her back now Pav. Sure you’re not for the shitter Larry?”

  “Damned if I do that now when there’s a cunthole there for the taking. Ain’t taking it after you fuckers have stretched it loose either. Any stretchin’ bein’ done, it’s by me.”

  Larry clambered onto the bed - a bear of a man that Jim knew he could never best, even without his friends. Larry was built big in every respect with a girth thicker than Miss Suzanne’s wrists.

  “Push a bit further forward boys - get her on her knees. Oh sweet baby Jesus, she is sodden. This ain’t gonna be any trouble.”

  Larry held his prick and stroked the head around her cunny. Even in the grimy light, Jim could see the glistening fluids coating his tip.

  “You ready?”

  Pavel gasped in response, “Dios, I’m fucking ready!” Paunch was so scarlet in the face, he seemed ready to have a nosebleed.

  “In we go now Missie.”

  Slim came to a halt, though Paunch continued to thrust, shaking Miss Suzanne with each impact. Dirt handmarks mingled with her sweat, marring her creamy complexion. Eyes scrunched tight, she prepared herself, still held tight in Slim’s white knuckle grip.

  Larry positioned himself and slid in alongside Slim.

  Miss Suzanne’s eyes widened immediately and she gave a great muffled shriek. Paunch reacted immediately. Groaning and swinging his head back, he gave a series of staccato moans as he pumped her throat with his seed whilst Larry and Slim began their slow dance. No further words were uttered, just the sounds of Slim and Larry grunting and Miss Suzanne’s spluttering and deep breaths as Paunch slipped out and wandered with legs visibly trembling to his chair, a string of spittle still clinging to him.

  Larry pushed Miss Suzanne’s head towards Slim’s shoulders as they forced their two pricks into Miss Suzanne’s stretched cunny. Pressed between them, Miss Suzanne trembled, breath hitching through her chest. “Oh my days… oh my days…”

  Though gentlemen they were not, they had the decency to pause for just a moment. Time seemed almost to have frozen as Miss Suzanne groaned quietly as she became more accustomed to the cocks inside her before slowly Slim and Larry began to slide in and out of her. A steady tension grew as their pace increased. Larry’s groans deepened and Slim’s breath became ever more ragged.

  “Ye gods man, you ever going to finish in there,” laughed Bulk, evidently recovered but out of sight.

  Slim gave a half hearted chuckle.

  “Oh, I’m being tested, I can assure you.”

  For Jim, it was enough. With more self control than he ever thought himself capable of, he came to his knees and pressing his head to the floor, he pumped and pumped his seed onto Madame de Bombadier’s rugs with a pained, stilted whine. With the final, aching throb of his prick, he rolled silently to one side and lay quietly, trembling and suddenly feeling very cold. Never in all of his days had he spent so much. A minute, two moments, three eternities, he could not tell how long he lay there but he could hear Miss Suzann
e’s wails of pleasure ringing through the walls and he smiled with relief.

  “Monsieur?”

  A mere whisper but he became alert immediately and got up with great speed and shame. A flurry of words were about to tumble from his lips but Madame merely smiled broadly and placed a finger across his lips. He paused, nodded and carefully stood up, remembering rather too late that he was still exposed. As quietly and quickly as he could, he fastened himself away, to Madame’s evident amusement and pleasure. With a wave, she gestured him to follow and after a final lingering look at Miss Suzanne, he replaced the plugs. His member twitched even now with a dull ache. They entered the lounge and with a swift shakedown of the velvet, Madame’s secret chamber was again hidden to the world.

  “Ma’am, I really must apologise for the mess I made of your fine rug, I truly am sorry. I can reimburse you most handsomely for-”

  “Shush, shush, shush you silly man!” she declared, waving away both his apologies and his dollars. “Ah, these are but material things. Joy however, ah now that is something that must be shared, cherished. No, no, it is quite fine.”