Young Detective Harem

It's an hour's drive, past the lakes and scenic mountain views, through the hiking trails, until I arrive at the luxury hotel in the quiet, open-spaced community. It's my third time visiting and I can see why it's become a tourist destination for people around the country.

The hotel, with its rapid economic growth, represents a shining example of progress, where all the amenities are modern, the design is superb, and I'm greeted warmly by the front desk staff before making my way to the elevator and head to the eighth floor.

I knock on the door, and when it opens, Selina is standing there in matching red undergarments, fresh from a shower. Her hair is dried and her makeup has already been applied. She doesn't show any emotion to my unannounced visit, nor does she bother covering herself.

She lets me inside and I look around the room. Everything is neat -- mostly. Strings were pulled and we shook down an informant to get Selina a temporary job as a hostess here. Business is booming and women like Selina are in demand for the service industry.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, closing the door.

"I haven't heard from you in three days. I was worried."

"Fair enough, I'm actually glad you're here. Sit down. Let me show you something before I have to work."

I sit at the small table and Selina goes to a hidden compartment in the closet, bringing out a satchel for me. She opens the bag and spreads the contents across the table; a camera, recorders, and a notebook. Low tech equipment.

"Anything successful?" I ask.

"Take a look at the pictures in the camera. As for the recorder, I haven't been able to use it yet. Especially with the outfits I'm wearing."

As my attention turns to the camera, I realize that Selina's panties are sheer and I catch a glimpse of her labia. She's sitting on the bed with documents, perhaps trying to entice me, to show that she has sacrificed everything for this job, including her pride. I suppose she's accustomed to using her body as a tool. I feel some regret over this, but she's old enough to make her own decisions.

I try not to look at her, only take a glance. She has the body of an athlete; feminine yet strong. Perfect for a hostess that caters to a demanding clientele with high expectations of women.

Flipping through the digital camera, I see pictures that were taken from the window of this room. I see people who come in and out of the private lounge of this hotel. A billionaire mogul named Henrick has essentially taken over this community, having the sheriff, top deputies, and city officials on his payroll.

Henrick can do whatever he wants. This includes hosting orgies with an impressive amount of women for himself and business associates. We only care because his former bodyguard came to us with allegations of murder plots and women being abused.

"Notice anything interesting?" she asks.

Her humor is part of the reason we get along so well. She's talking about her tits as she lays in a provocative pose, or maybe she's talking about the pictures?

Unfortunately, I'm not here to entertain her puns. I reach into my pocket and drop a bomb that could effectively end her career. Sadly. I have an envelope for her. I put it on the table.

"You've done good work," I say, pushing the envelope in her direction. "But I'm pulling you from this assignment. These photos were taken by a different surveillance team yesterday."

Selina keeps a stone face as she takes the envelope and opens it. She looks at the pictures. There are pictures of her flirting with different men in suits while in the parking lot. The most damning photos show Selina entering a car with a man and having a makeout session. Her hand drifts below, clearly a handjob.

Instead of protesting or denying it, Selina remains quiet for a moment, which is a subtle admission that she performed a sex act.

"Who else knows about this?" she asks.

"Me and the photographer. You're off the assignment. As a notice, your indiscretions will be included in the final report."

"Give me a few more days to finish the job. I'm close to breaking this whole thing wide open."

"That's news to me because you cut contact a while ago. And you're already compromised. Your findings and statements may be inadmissible in court."

"Can I explain myself?" she asks.

"I'll give you that respect."

"The people who run this place really like me," she says. "That includes Henrick and the managers of this establishment. Apparently I do all the right things and I have the right look. I've been told my 'street smarts' and big city vibes are incredibly sexy. Of course, they'd kill me in a second if they knew I'm a cop."

"Do these people seem like killers to you?"

"Yes."

"Explain."

"Nothing concrete, but some of the guys who work security are ex-military. A few nights ago I saw them cornering a man in an alley, the man never came out. I've heard of a girl going missing and her family came looking for her. I don't have all the evidence yet, but these incidents raise serious red flags. I can't let it go."

"That doesn't explain why you've gone radio silent these last few days."

"You're right. But you've never gone deep cover like this before."

"How close are you?" I ask.

"I'm working a lead. Girl who works in the lounge. We serve drinks together."

"Tell me about this girl."

"She's been working here a long time. She's the one who trained me for my job. She has a lot of experience and she's a favorite of Henrick, which is a good thing. I get the sense that she's sick of working for abusive men and wants to burn this whole place down. Trust me, she knows a lot of incriminating information."

"Can you flip her?"

"In a few more days."

"How can you be so sure?"

"She passes out after I make her cum. While she sleeps in my bed, I've been updating my files. So you have to forgive me if I haven't been calling you everyday. I've been a little busy."

I wish she'd started with that as her explanation for not calling me. I'm tempted to apologize to Selina but she understands. Our relationship has always been rocky and she's always acknowledged that she's difficult to work with, but her bending the rules seems to be beneficial this time.

"Alright, a few more days."

"Do you want regular updates?" she asks.

"That depends. Do I want to hear any of this?"

"Probably not."

"That might be for the best. The department is under pressure to shut Henrick's operation down. It's giving the state a bad name. We can't jeopardize anything."

"Understood."

It's time for me to leave because Selina's shift starts soon. I excuse myself and head to the door. She doesn't say anything. Instead she stands and gets dressed, wearing a vibrant red skirt that wraps around her hips, and a white buttoned sleeveless top which makes her look pure. She's like this deadly combination of innocence and seduction. I can see why her cover is so effective.

There's a certain aroma that comes from the exclusive areas of this hotel. A particular scent. It's the combination of cologne mixed with perfume and a sense of debauchery.

The men are impressed with tonight's line-up of women. These ladies are well-trained in making powerful men feel like powerful men. I've trained them myself. The exotic women from Eastern Europe and Asia seem to be getting most of the attention, which is a good thing because they were harder to acquire and break. I have their passports and control their bank accounts, so they know who's in charge.

Being a Madame is a harder job than most people think. It has all the typical headaches of an office manager, plus we sometimes deal with dangerous people and illegal activities, and if something goes wrong we can't go to the police or courts. In my case, the boss makes sure nothing violent happens around here, so that's a plus. Dealing with difficult ladies, that's my responsibility.

I go back to my office to run some errands before returning to the main floor. My office is chic, stylish, like something you'd see in a movie where the main character is an executive for a fashion agency. It's an appropriate comparison since the fashion industry also deals with whores.

There's a note on my desk. I read it:

~~~

Watch out for the new girl SELINA in the bar & drinks area. At first she was cool, but something's off about her. I saw two high-rollers offer to take her around town. She declined. No one declines. She looks around a lot, asks lots of questions, seems nosy. Sometimes nice, sometimes a closed off bitch.

I love my job here, don't want her fucking it up, whatever she's doing.

~~~

Who needs spies when I have jealous girls worried about their competition? Thanks to them, I have eyes and ears everywhere. These kinds of anonymous letters are a mixed bag. Envy is often a factor. Girls will sometimes snitch on prettier girls, the girls who suck better cock, who know how to talk to men and draw more money.

But other times there are legit reasons for reporting the other women, like if they're stealing or working a side hustle. Those are legitimate reasons to make anonymous reports and I train my women to look for these things. I've been dealing with catty women for two decades and I've seen it all.

I think about Selina, the 'new girl' referenced in this secret note. She's a real beauty. Young. Fit. With a dangerous edge to her. She got this job through a reference because we needed women who could competently handle the bar area. Many of the women here are immigrants who lack real world job skills outside of mouth and pussy. Her employment here is very unofficial and she's paid cash. We only know her first name, that's all we ask. We rely totally on references.

A cop? An informant? Hardly. I can smell a cop a mile away. They have a distinct look, a certain straight-lace about them. Even the crooked cops have a by-the-book vibe to them. Besides, we have our own informants inside key departments within the state. We hadn't heard anything about an investigation.

My best guess is that Selina has a friend or relative who used to work here, someone jaded, and maybe that person ran away. And now Selina is playing the role of bootleg investigator to find out 'the truth.' It's happened before where sisters or boyfriends have come looking for someone. I always give the truth, that this person either fucked off or was fired. I say it politely, of course. And then they leave. One look at security and they know vigilante shit doesn't work here. This isn't the movies. This is the harsh reality of the sex industry. People get hurt.

The more I think about Selina, the more I grow suspicious. The note makes good points about her cunningly designed behavior. How could my instincts have been so wrong? How could I have missed the signs? I might be slipping now that I'm getting older.

Like I mentioned, we don't ask for social security or government documents here. The nature of our work is different. We hire based on reference, from trusted sources. Most of these women are sex workers and we treat them accordingly. I only know her by her stage name. "Selina." The only insurance I have that women are legit is that giving us bad references can result in being killed.

I toss the note in the garbage so Henrick doesn't see it. I'll have to handle this alone. If my boss knew of a security breach, my reputation would take a hit. So I handle minor tasks in the office and then look myself in the mirror. I'm pleased by what I see in the reflection, someone stylish, but with teeth that bite. The best of both worlds.

The atmosphere in this exclusive area of the hotel is electric, but in a low-key kind of way. It almost has a nightclub feel, even in the heart of a hotel. The walls are decked with vibrant colors and designs. The music is light and everyone is having a good time. The drinks are sophisticated and we serve modern cuisine.

But the vibes are different in the backroom lounge, which only have curtains for privacy. That's where women go to earn their big tips and where the men in suits get their service. Lots of business deals are closed in there, in between women getting on their knees to provide quality customer service.

I survey the main area and make sure everything is running smoothly. Then I watch Selina from a distance. My first thought when looking at Selina is that she's a legit working girl -- and I don't mean as a sex worker. She's serving drinks and her hands and feet are strong. She doesn't get tired. She works fast and with energy. I can see why she gets so many tips.

Reading people is my job and some women are harder to read than others. Selina, she's an enigma, and I don't like that. I'm second guessing my initial judgment of her, but not enough to fire her, or do very bad things. We can't afford to lose good servers because now is our busy season.

I approach Selina when she has a moment of free time. God she's beautiful. In another life she could be an actress, but instead she's working here for me.

A minor red flag is that she doesn't cower while I'm standing close to her. She doesn't fear me. Most women do. Especially with the look I have on my face. I ask how she's doing, how business is going and how much tips she's earned tonight. Her smile gives me the answer before she can tell me the number.

I invite her for a drink in the lounge area and she accepts. She's not sure what to expect, but she keeps smiling and puts on her game face. It's the same face she uses with flirtatious male customers, but she's on her toes more. She knows who she's dealing with. She's known since the day we met.

When we reach the private area, we remain standing, and I stroke her shoulder.

"We've never had a personal conversation," I say. "That's my fault. We've been so busy around here lately."

"I serve drinks for tips. You manage the place. What can be simpler than that?"

"That's true, but still, I like keeping tabs on my girls."

She flashes a pretty smile. "What would you like to know?"

"What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"You know, life is full of unexpected twists and turns. We all have our reasons for ending up where we are. In my case, let's just say I've had my fair share of interesting experiences."

"But why here? A luxury hotel in Montana with guests expecting you-know-what."

"Abusive father. Absent mother. I was a runaway and I learned how to survive. I think that's the answer you're looking for."

"So you're one of those types. Most are."

"I guess so."

"Yet you fit right in."

"I grew up in a small town, spent a lot of time around bars and men. I've heard the money is great here, so when I was offered a chance to work a gig, I had to see what it was about."

"You serve a great drink," I say.

"Thank you."

"But do you suck a great cock?"

"So I've been told."

"With any of the guests here?"

"No."

"Why not? I noticed you keep to yourself and turn down offers. With lips like yours, and that body, you could be making some serious cash."

"I respect the women who do that, but that's not my thing. I like saving myself for special people."

"Are you a religious freak?"

"Partly," she says. "Something I got from my dad, ironically enough."

"Ah, now it's making sense. You know, with a story like yours, you could make even more money. You have many desirable traits."

She laughs. "The men here don't have enough money for that."

"A church girl in a house of sin. You've never turned tricks in your life?"

"Never as an adult. I'm just here to make money flirting with guys and serving drinks. I hope that's okay, I feel I'm doing a good job working here."

I read her body language, the look in her eyes -- the woman has an iron confidence, an air of quiet strength -- but she's telling the truth. She's never turned tricks before. But still, there's something about her that piques my curiosity. Selina could be a massive hit with our clients. She has all the right attributes.

As for the claim that there's something suspicious about her, that still lingers in my mind. It's hard to put my finger on what bothers me. I don't like that. She's too feminine to be a cop. Too gentile to be someone looking for revenge. But I'm not convinced she's fully telling the truth, either. I think there's something more to her.

"Come with me," I say. "Let me show you something."

We head to the more intimate part of the lounge, the part where the real money is made. The place where guests have their wildest fantasies satisfied by the most exotic women.

We stroll through the corridors of the hotel and a symphony of tantalizing sights and intoxicating energy greets us. With every step, we enter the domain of enchanting women melded into a world of erotic possibilities. The sound of seductive conversations mixed with the laughter and whispers of pleasure. My eyes feast on the provocative encounters in each room. This is my realm, where desires find their release, where fantasies are woven into reality.

As the Madame of this realm, I lead Selina deeper into the heart of the hotel. This is her first true foray into our world and her tough exterior begins to crumble, revealing a certain vulnerability. She steps deeper into the intoxicating atmosphere, her eyes wide with intrigue.

I bring my lips to her ear, brushing against her hair.

"Take your top off."

My words are a command, not a request. She's smart enough to know that I'm testing her. She realizes that I'm on to her. Now the question is, will she run like a scared little girl? She'll burn her bridges and the guy who recommended her will be killed. Or will she be a woman and prove herself to me?

She hesitates for a second, then starts to remove her outfit and undoes her top, standing in just her panties. Her breasts are heaven. Her eyes are strong but she's clearly nervous. I can see her chest breathing deeper as the wolves in the room are curious about the new girl.

"Great tits," I say. "Perhaps my instincts were wrong."

"I'm a businesswoman, just like you."

"Are you?"

"What are you suggesting?"

I stroke her breast, then nipple. "Are you here to rip us off? Looking for someone, or something? Or are you... dare I say it... a cop?"

"Fuck no."

"Now that's the kind of attitude that makes me nervous."

"No cop would ever stand like this. I hate cops. Always have."

I laugh. "Women always lie. A pussy never does. Take your bottom off. Get naked."

The ultimate test for the enigmatic woman standing in front me. The pressure of the situation brings out the best of her. She gets naked, tossing everything aside, she even makes a point to get barefoot to prove her commitment. I love that her toes are on the floor. It makes her dirtier in my eyes.

I touch between her legs. Wet. Her eyes say one thing, her pussy something else.

"You're potentially a million dollar whore," I say. "And that's a good thing."

She doesn't say anything, she just looks at me, knowing her life is going to change for better or worse. It all depends on how you look at the situation. Her mind is working like clockwork, going through different scenarios, and something about that is extremely hot.

"I want to work here. I don't want to leave."

"Good girl. There's a lot that can be done with you. Think of it as a promotion. But first we'll need to test the goods. Then we'll talk about opportunities."

I put my hand on her shoulder and guide her to a private lounge. Her muscles are tense, nervous. I doubt she's been in this area before, so close to all the blowjobs and gangbangs, and she doesn't know what to expect. Or maybe she does know what to expect. That's why her energy is so different now.