The Best Little Whorehouse
ahorsewithnoname
The Best Little Whorehouse
By ahorsewithnoname
Description: This story take place in a fictional whorehouse in Texas, run by a high-stakes businessman who has recruited the top talent available for his clients, including members of Congress, foreign dignitaries, and others, seeking the ultimate pleasure. EXPLICIT!
Tags: oral, anal, gangbang, mind control, lesbian, humor
Published: 2023-06-02
Size: ≈ 13,662 Words
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The Best Little Whorehouse
by ahorsewithnoname
Prologue
Incorporated over 150 years ago, La Grange, Texas is a small town in southeastern Texas. With a population just under 5,000, and nestled up against the Colorado river, town folk (many of German and Czech heritage) enjoyed a relaxed way of life. 38 years ago, a landmark brothel known as the Chicken Ranch was closed down through the efforts of a Houston television reporter, and the state Attorney General.
The Chicken Ranch was located several miles outside of town. With so many years passing, nature had swept away the last remaining remnants of the place. But the land was still there. And land was what a man known as Mr. Horse was interested in. Through an attorney, he quietly purchased up one hundred acres, including the land that was once where the Chicken Ranch was situated. Within a few weeks, construction began and a multi-story structure arose. Townspeople paid little attention. With the economy being what it was, they had little time for foolishness outside of their own existence.
The mysterious Mr. Horse had spent years planning this venture. Having made his fortune in the stock market, he meticulously planned out a strategy for his newest venture. Local politicians were cultivated, their campaigns seeded with money from an anonymous source known only as Mr. Horse. Politicians in Austin, the state capital, were also sought out and coddled over the years. Key members of Congress received contributions, or had fund-raisers conducted for them. Many favors were being accumulated.
The coup de grace was a relationship built up by Mr. Horse and the leaders of the island nation of Palau over the past few years. He obtained dual citizenship, and was appointed Palau’s ambassador to the United States. No one in Washington really cared since Palau, with its population of about 20,000, was of little significance in the overall world stage. And when Palau quietly announced that it was establishing its embassy outside the small town of La Grange, Texas vs. Washington, DC, it was reported by the Washington Post, but on page 37.
Now, eleven years later...
CHAPTER ONE
The Greyhound bus stop was nothing more than a general store that sold newspapers and soft drinks. When she exited the coach, few took notice, but those that did took note of her lithe figure, long blonde tresses, and near peasant attire.
Looking at the slip of paper, she saw that her destination was several miles away, and longed for the comfort of a taxi. Her budget wouldn’t allow for that extravagance, however. So, she set off on foot, her long, strong legs helping to support the backpack which contained pretty much everything she owned.
She passed by Brendan Manor, the Stoltz Mansion, and later the County Courthouse, what few looks she drew she was used to. As she walked by the large, red-roofed Department of Transportation complex, she saw that a police car was pulling to a stop just in front of her. The passenger window lowered, and as she got close, she could almost feel the cold air pouring out into the heat of the day.
“I’m Sheriff Don,” came the voice, laced with a classic Texas drawl. “You heading out to the Castle, Miss?” He noticed her nipples protruding somewhat against her shirt.
She seemed to study him for a moment.
“Castle?”
“The embassy. Outside of town?” A furrow appeared at her apparent confusion. “You going to see Miss Ellen?” he tried in a bit of a stage whisper.
A smile confirmed the answer to his question.
“Yes, I have an appointment today to see Miss...”
“Well, get in, Miss,” said the Sheriff as he popped the lock open, “it’s a couple of miles and in this heat, you might just melt.”
She gratefully accepted his invitation, putting her backpack on the floor between her legs. As they rode off, the Sheriff got a call on his cell phone, which kept his busy for a couple of minutes. She saw the beginnings of a large structure in the distance just as the Sheriff was finishing his call.
“Yep, that’s the place,” he said, patting her knee affectionately and thinking of what lay just north.
She thought it impolite of her to not have at least introduced herself to the Sheriff.
“I’m Gay,” she said with a smile.
The Sheriff looked at her, the normally jovial expression on his face replaced with one that typically indicated a bitter taste. He immediately removed his hand from her knee.
The Palau embassy was quite a fortress. There was a fifteen foot tall brick wall surrounding the entire complex, topped with razor wire, security cameras, and powerful halogen lights. The gate to the entrance was a three-foot tall wall of rebar-reinforced concrete that would descend into the earth when so commanded by one of the two guards on duty.
The Sheriff pulled up to the guard station and lowered his window.
“Good afternoon, Sheriff,” said one of the guards, “how may I help you?”
“The lady says she has an appointment.” The Sheriff gave the guard a knowing nod.
The guard looked at his clipboard, then looked at her, as if comparing information.
“Come with me, Miss,” he said, “and thank you, Sheriff. Will we be seeing you later this evening, sir?”
Sheriff Don loved his job. In his mid-60s, he was a town favorite and had been Sheriff for the past 33 years. He had run unopposed for the past 20 years, except for that one year when CJ Wildcat ran because he got mad at Don for tossing him in jail for a night after he got into a bar fight. CJ got 3 votes. Two of his cousins and one of his brothers didn’t vote for him. What the Sheriff loved best about his job was his weekly visits to see Miss Ellen. Dinner, dessert and her company.
“Yes. Yes you will.” He raised his window and after the woman had left his vehicle, he turned around and headed back for town, thinking what a waste that the fine woman he just dropped off was only interested in pussy.
CHAPTER TWO
The guard escorted her inside to the Reception desk situated in the center of the room, where a pretty young woman with long red hair and ample bust was just getting off the phone. Her name plate said “Miss Jessica” and in smaller letters “New York”.
“I’m here to see Miss Ellen. I’m Gay.”
“Honey, your lifestyle is really your own business,” replied Jessica. Then, pointing towards a door with the number 404 on it, continued, “You can wait for Miss Ellen in there.”