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The Foundation
11
Wednesday Afternoon Tea
Less than a week after the Lone Star Incorporated Bank approved a $6 million loan to The Foundation, Carmel and Hector lunched at the Grand Hotel to discuss the details of the first three ‘adult entertainment venues’ to be opened in Austin, Houston and Dallas. The meal of turtle soup, roast duck and peach trifle was delicious, but Hector glanced at his watch and passed up the chance for a brandy.
“I have to entertain some very respectable ladies on the seventh floor. Well, not me. One of my male acts, Ramon, is … performing. Do you remember him?”
“Ramon?” Carmel was careful not to look up from her plate, but she could not avoid raising her voice as she asked the question. “Yes, I think I do recall him.”
Carmel had diligently collected titles from Ramon’s video portfolio for the past four months. The quality of the camerawork was appalling, the dialogue, even in Spanish, was stilted, but Carmel could not avoid sitting by her computer every night to watch him mount a succession of Latina girls after they fellated his magnificent erection. She also gathered 117 pictures of Ramon, meticulously arranging them in order of preference. Carmel was captivated, but she also knew that a senior executive did not pursue a porn star, especially a convicted drug dealer who also served as prostitute. So, her nights spent gazing at the computer screen with her knickers around her ankles would remain no more than her dirty little secret.
“I’m on my way for the conclusion of his performance. Would you like to see him in action? I have yet to meet a woman who has not enjoyed ‘Wednesday Afternoon Tea’ with Ramon.” Carmel pretended to check her watch and ponder her options. “It will be over soon. The matrons of Houston should be watching Betty licking the whipped cream from his weapon by now.”
“Well, I’m not due back until two thirty, and he does have a magnificent cock.”
As Carmel and Hector walked into the hotel suite Ramon was standing before an audience of about two dozen women, wearing only cuffs at the wrists. He was, naturally, fully erect, his member glistening in the pale afternoon sun. Carmel noticed a prison guard by the window, nursing his shotgun.
“Unloaded,” Hector said. “He’s actually off duty. The guns, the guard and the shackles increase the allure for our respectable ladies.”
“I thought a handsome man with a fourteen inch dick would be alluring enough.”
“True, but Ramon must play his part. You find him handsome?”
“Well … I think most women would say that … well, he is good looking.”
A woman dressed in black stockings, red corset and long black gloves, the standard whore uniform, began massaging Ramon’s member, running her hands back and forth along the shaft. She placed his cock in her mouth and thrust the head against the inside of her cheek, pretending to chock on his erection. The whore then offered Ramon to a woman in the front row. He thrust his foreskin against her dank hands, causing her to yelp when she touched his flesh. The other women in the front row were less wary, giggling to their neighbours as they fingered his foreskin with one even stealing a fleeting lick of the tip.
After the audience participation, the whore cupped her breasts in her hands as he shoved his member into her cleavage, tapping her face as she opened her mouth to fellate him with each thrust. Throughout the clumsy massage from the ladies and the fellatio Ramon’s face remained blank, oblivious to the passion aroused by his outstanding organ. Carmel knew that few men would choose to stand naked in chains before a group of women being milked by a whore. She sensed his shame and his resignation as he gazed at the far wall and she was about to leave, reluctant to witness his degradation, when he noticed Carmel by the door. She was flustered by his intense stare, aware that she was responsible for the day toiling in the villa garden beneath the bitter sun with those three whores. She suspected, having watched all six hours of film from that day, the film crew must have abused him into submission to gain such debasing and exhausting footage.
The whore noticed Hector by the door, and once he tapped his watch she briskly ended the routine with her breasts and bent over to stow Ramon into her vagina. For the next five minutes Ramon thrust his pelvis against the whore’s buttocks, the sound of slapping flesh ringing out around the room. Ramon continued to stare over the audience towards Carmel, yet she was no longer unsettled by his look, because she was certain there was the trace of a smile. After five minutes of fervent thrusting the whore shoved Ramon into her anus. Hector tapped his watch once more and the whore’s gasps became even louder until, amidst a spate of excitable shouts, she appeared to achieve yet another orgasm.
“The performance has reached its climax,” Hector told his business partner. “Betty will collect her sachet and, like a magician’s assistant, ensure that Ramon experiences the most stupendous orgasm, though he’ll be ejaculating a mixture of glue, cornflour and salt. Watch Betty. There, it’s in her right hand now, and so she begins to massage the head and within the next three seconds.” Ramon fabricated an unconvincing pant, looking up to the ceiling to highlight his sexual ecstasy. “There we go. Mission accomplished.” A surge of seed appeared to burst forth from Ramon’s foreskin as he grunted with pleasure. A gasp from the audience and then a polite round of applause mixed with a few giggles.
Betty used her left hand to stroke his foreskin and Ramon enjoyed a second explosion, sending even more seed cascading down his magnificent tool. Then he stood, semen dripping onto the floor, as the cameras and the phones captured every degrading moment. Betty drew Ramon’s legs further apart to allow the audience to view the tip of his cock covered in fake semen. The paste rolled down the shaft and one woman was particularly keen for a close up of the seed rolling down onto his testicles before dripping onto the ground.
The guard, familiar with the routine, joined Ramon’s elbows with a metal rod and then fitted a neck brace, attaching the collar to the elbow bar, before he was hauled to the door on a lead held by Betty. It was a demeaning and inelegant departure as Betty, tugging on the metal chain, forced him to bow to his audience, who responded with a last round of gentle applause. A minute later the audience dispersed, some of the ladies picking at the remains of buffet selection on the table as they left.
“Would you like to have a closer look at Ramon before his next session?”
“I thought he was going back to prison?”
“We say that to get him away from these women. He has three sessions every Wednesday afternoon. One, two and three o’clock. The next one’s in just ten minutes on the eleventh floor. It’s hard work in every sense, but we have our own special brew to keep Ramon standing proud for the next four hours.”
Ramon stood by the fireplace as Betty stood over the washbasin, scrubbing her gloves.
“The paste leaves a stain if you don’t wash it straight out,” she explained to Carmel as she stepped through the door.
“Please mistress. It dries. Hurts.” Ramon thrust his erect penis towards the whore by the sink, but she did not even turn to look at the gum smeared on her partner’s cock.
“I have to piss,” she told him. “I’ll wash you later.”
Carmel went to stand by the bound convict. She could smell his sweat and the scent of the whore’s holes still clung to his raging tool. The paste was already crusting against his bulging bright pink skin, so she took a cloth and held it under the tap. She laid the warm cloth on the shaft and wiped away the paste. Another douse of warm water and Ramon’s excellent member was free of the fake semen. She placed her hand on his chest and his side as she removed the paste, and she sensed a tension with every touch. Carmel had almost hoped that encountering the obscure object of her desire would ease her fascination, expecting to find an oaf, or vulgar conceit. Now, resting her hands on his stomach and thighs, the passion was even stronger as she rose to meet his eyes.
“Thank you, Mistress De Bois.”
She glanced at the guard by the door, but he was enjoying some pickings garnered from the buffet, giving her the chance to caress the inside of his thighs, running her fingers down to his knees. She could hear his breath quicken as her fingers crept towards his groin. Betty suddenly returned and presumed Carmel was stroking Ramon’s cock.
“Knock yourself out, dear. He’s free meat today.” Carmel rinsed the cloth once more to wash his chest and his back, and she could not resist dwelling over his buttocks. By the time she reached as far down as his knees, Ramon protested.
“Mistress, please. You are a lady…”
“Ramon, you’re getting special treatment from … who are you?”
“Carmel De Bois, director of The Foundation in Harmon County, and an associate of Senor Ceballos.”
“You’re making all those robot whores with massive tits and tight holes. You’re going to put normal working girls like me out of business.”
“Now would be the time to take advantage of your college education.” Only later Carmel recalled that Ramon laughed at the comment, but she had been told that he barely spoke English because he was rather stupid. She was not sure that Ramon was quite so dumb.
“Mistress De Bois, I am thirsty.” Carmel found a glass of water and set it against his lips. Now there was no choice but to look into his face as he drained the glass. “More please, Mistress.”
“Don’t give him anymore,” Betty said. “It’s a fucking hard job to get him to piss when he’s got that massive pole sticking up. We make him go in a bucket. Isn’t that right big boy?” Betty came across and took hold of his shaft, pressing his flesh. He winced. “Next time don’t ram me so bloody hard at the end. I could feel it coming up through my throat. Miss, you’ll have to book an appointment with Senor Ceballos if you want to taste Ramon’s cock. There are twenty women upstairs staining the plush seats, waiting for him and his massive beef bayonet to make an appearance.”
Ramon turned to Carmel, and she had never seen such a striking smile.
“Good day, Mistress De Bois. I hope to see you again.”
“Wait.” Carmel’s voice was quiet, but assertive as she filled the glass from the tap and held it for Ramon for a second long mouthful. As soon as the glass was empty Betty took hold of his collar and yanked Ramon into the corridor to be paraded, naked, chained and erect, on his way to the eleventh floor. Hector moved to the door as Carmel washed her hands in the sink.
“I believe that young Ramon has developed a … regard for you. I would be impressed, Carmel. Ramon has fucked thousands of women, and has never shown an interest in any of them. He is quite heartless in that respect. You have made an impression on him. You have answered a difficult question for me.” She looked up from the bowl of water. “Now I know what to give you next week for your birthday present.”
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