INSPECTION by Joe Doe AN MBA'S FANTASY ABOUT A NIGHT IN A BROTHEL COMES TRUE. My wife, Sharon, had fantasized about being a prostitute for years. In her professional life, she was confident, self-assured, and in control. She made the decisions and gave the orders. But the fantasy of being a nameless prostitute, forced to sleep with the highest bidder, thrilled her. Prostitution is, of course, illegal in Las Vegas (Clark County). But, thereabouts, money can buy any dream. So Sharon and I had sought out an accommodating brothel just across the line, in friendly, nearby Lincoln County. We were standing in a secret room adjacent to the main parlor, watching through a one-way mirror as the lounging women on the other side of the glass waited for customers. "You realize that, once you go out there, you're playing for keeps," the Madam reminded Sharon, sternly. "If you are chosen, I expect you to please the customer completely, no matter what is asked." "She'll be chosen," I said confidently. "And she'll do whatever her john tells her to do, just like a good little whore, won't you, Sharon?" I said, playfully patting her bottom. "As a matter of fact, the more humiliating, the better!" Sharon blushed hotly, looked at her shoes, and nodded. "There are many beautiful women here," the Madam cautioned. "And she may well not be chosen. I think Kara is especially fetching in her blue lingerie tonight, don't you?" The Madame pointed out a lovely brunette in a red teddy, who was casually reading a magazine. Although she was indeed beautiful, she was no match for Sharon. "Sharon, why don't you take off your dress and show the Madam the lingerie you're wearing?" I suggested. Sharon looked at me dumbly, not certain if she had heard correctly. The Madam quickly responded to her lack of obedience. "You heard the man!" she said, crisply. "When a man gives an order, you jump! Take off your dress...NOW!" Sharon reached for the hem of her midnight blue cocktail dress and quickly pulled it over her blonde head. My wife was a vision in blue: lacy blue bra and panty set, blue garter belt, very pale blue stockings, and glittering blue high heels. "Not bad," the Madam said, appraisingly, as her eyes swept up and down my wife's blushing form. "But to really make a judgment, I would have to see Kara and your wife standing side by side." The Madam opened the door that led to the main parlor and beckoned Sharon forward. As she passed the Madam, my wife reached to retrieve her dress, which was folded over the Madam's arm. Her efforts were rewarded by a sharp slap on her posterior. "I think I can make a better appraisal if you remain under-dressed," the Madam said, slyly, as she ushered my blushing wife into the parlor. The Madam was starting to explain to the others who Sharon was, when the bell at the front door announced a new arrival. Within seconds, my beautiful young wife was standing in her scanty lingerie next to a dozen other women. It was time for Sharon to be shown off to her first potential customer.... The client was a middle-aged businessman, short, bald, and very unattractive. He looked exactly like the type of bloated, middle-aged executive whom Sharon helped down-size on a regular basis. The only difference was that, today, he would be in charge, and she would be one taking orders. The fat man sidled down the line of girls, occasionally stopping to run his fingers through a favored girl's hair or to give a familiar girl a playful pat on the cheek. When he got to Sharon, he stopped. His eyes dropped to her shoes and then slowly ran up the length of her blushing form. Sharon put her hands over her breasts, until a sharp command from the Madam forced her to put them back at her sides. "It looks like we have a fresh new peach today," the dirty old man snickered. "You will be her first customer," the Madam replied. "Her name is Sharon, and she used to be a business consultant. She specialized in mergers and down-sizing, until she got down-sized herself." At the word "down-sizing," the man's face broke into a scowl. "I've been down-sized twice by little snips like her! I never had much use for candy-ass consultants," he growled, angrily. The man paused, smiled and looked Sharon up and down appraisingly. "At least, not until now...." The man nodded to the Madam, who immediately turned back to Sharon. "Pull down your panties, spread your legs, and put your hands on top of your head." Sharon looked at her in stunned disbelief. It wasn't often that she was ordered to drop her knickers in someone's living room, especially not with a leering, smirking, middle-aged pervert watching her every move. "DO IT NOW," the Madam said, harshly. Gritting her teeth, Sharon reluctantly reached down and rolled her blue lace panties down to her knees. "Well, it looks like we have a real blonde here," the tubby man observed, approvingly. "And I thought these management consultants were all fakes." Sharon put her hands on top of her head and obediently spread her legs as the snickering man complimented her on being such an "obedient bitch." "I'm just sorry we can't get all the little blonde bimbos at my office to drop their drawers and spread 'em the way you do," he sneered. "If I could, I'd be a lot happier about having those uppity broads around my office!" Sharon flinched at the demeaning term, "uppity broads," but dutifully maintained her position. She nervously bit her lip as the man toyed with her belly button and teasingly ran his finger down her stomach towards her crotch. He stopped when he got to her pubic hair and asked the Madam whether or not it was okay for him to "try her on for size." The Madam smiled broadly and nodded. I chuckled. It was obvious that the Madam was enjoying my wife's panicked eyes as much as the fat man was.... The man's finger resumed its teasing journey, and he soon worked it into what he crudely described as Sharon's "steamy, wet beaver." My wife ground her teeth and closed her eyes in shame and humiliation as the smiling executive played with her pussy like she was some 100 peso hooker.... "That's it, you little bimbo!" he taunted. "Squeeze my finger! Hump my hand, you randy little bitch! Prove to me that a female MBA is good for SOMETHING! "I'd like to check out her rear blow hole, too," the man said, as he pulled his finger out of her twitching, quivering pussy. "If she's as tight there, I think I might try the old Hershey Highway tonight." "Please...I've never had...'it'...anal sex," my wife squeaked. The Madam immediately made a compassionate response. "Since she's inexperienced, and since you are a regular customer, you can pop her anal cherry for an extra $10," she said to the executive. "Sharon, turn around, bend over, and spread your cheeks. I need to show the man what his $10 will buy him." Sharon's standard billing rate was $400 per hour. She couldn't believe that this randy pig was going to hump her in the most shameful way imaginable for a measly $10 extra! Her face burned crimson with shame, but I could also tell that the very degradation of the experience excited her. She swallowed, turned, leaned forward, and obediently spread the shapely cheeks of her enticing bottom. "Now, that's the prettiest one I've seen for quite a while," the fat man gushed as he looked at Sharon's exposed asshole. "I always knew these management consultant bitches were tight-asses, but I had no idea how tight!" he guffawed. Sharon flinched as she felt him playfully finger her sphincter. "You don't look so high and mighty, now that it's your ass on the line. Do you have any pie charts or spreadsheets to explain how I'm going to butt-fuck you until you squeal? Do you want to call a meeting while I bang you like a drum? "It's going to be exactly like it is at work," he jeered. "Except, this time, I'll be on top. I'm going to enjoy showing one of you corporate down-sizers what it feels like to get it up the ass," he chuckled. "I'm going to put you in front of the mirror, so I can see the look on your face when I drive my point home." We had discussed the possibility that Sharon might have to perform oral or anal sex, and she admitted that the possibility both thrilled and frightened her. Now her worst fear -- and her darkest fantasy -- was about to be fulfilled. The leering fat man turned to the Madam as Sharon nervously pulled up her panties. "I'll take this frosty blonde bitch," he said. "And I want her for a full hour." The man turned and playfully ran his fingers across my blushing wife's cheek. "Since it's your first trick, darling, I'm going to take my time," he said, menacingly. "You won't be so sassy when I'm done riding you." As Sharon was led up the stairs, she looked anxiously back toward the mirror to see if I was going to save her. The room was silent. Sharon could see only a frightened blonde hooker in blue lingerie staring back at her from the mirror. From behind her, she could hear the Madam's voice. "I think I was too pessimistic at first, Sharon. An outside consulting firm has down-sized or closed completely several plants here this week, and we are expecting a lot of the affected employees -- both white-collar and blue-collar -- to come in tonight. You are going to be a VERY popular girl! And I'm going to make a pretty penny selling that cute little ass of yours," she chuckled. Sharon staggered and grabbed the banister to keep from falling as she looked back in horror at the grinning Madam. But, after a few seconds, her customer delivered a sharp SLAP across her shapely bottom, and she resumed her humiliating march. "Time is money, my little MBA," the man chuckled as he prodded her on up the stairs. "And you have a busy night ahead of you." Edited by C. Lakewood