Moral Degeneration

“Rise and shine,” I said as I set the food on the nightstand beside her. Beatrice groaned. I leaned over, slapping her bare ass. “You’ll be late for work.”

“I’m the CFO, they can wait,” she said. 

“Well I have to go,” I said. 

“What?” She asked, bolting upright. “Why?” 

“Because I have business to attend to,” I said with a smile. “I’m not lazing around here all day.”

“But-but you said I can have you for a week,” she pouted. 

“Which sucks that I might have to cut it short. There have been some developments in my own drama,” I said. She looked genuinely hurt. Apparently she really was looking forward to a week with me. “I’ll make it up to you. Come on, I made you breakfast,” I said.

“You did?” She asked, her eyes turning to the tray. “I’ve uh-no one’s ever made it for me.” I set the tray in front of her. Naked as the day she was born she smiled as she chewed on some bacon. “What’s your business then? Seducing rich women?”

“I wish,” I said. “No, I’m looking for someone. Someone that hurt me, and I think I’m close.”

“Why were you working at the Menagerie then?” She asked, confused, but still eating. 

 

“I have to pay the bills somehow,” I said with a shrug. “Besides, it’s a great way to meet people.” I eyed her up and down. “Sorry I wasn’t gentle last night.”

“I loved it,” she said, her eyes wild. “That tying down thing was way more fun than I thought.” She acted like a young girl as she happily ate the toast. “You uh, coming back tonight?”

“I’d like to,” I said. “What if I pick you up at work?” 

 

“At my work?” She asked as if there was any other. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Sounds fun,” I said. “Get to bring you lunch. Fuck you in your office…assuming you have privacy. I like to do whatever I want. If you aren’t interested we ca-” 

“No,” she said, sitting up more. “No I uh, I always had a fantasy about that. C-can we make it dinner? Like uh you show up around 6 with dinner when most of the regulars are gone. Yes-yes please. I’ve always wanted to do that!” Her eyes were almost frantic. I wasn’t surprised.. Most people had a fantasy about sex in the workplace. Lucky for me, that was the next step in my plan. 

“You sure? Not going to piss off a boss?” I asked. 

“Ha, he’s out of town,” she said. “Not like he hasn’t done it at the office anyway.” 

“Not with you though, right,” I said quickly. I hadn’t thought of becoming Eskimo brothers with my dad.  

“Uh no,” she said. I let out a sigh of relief. “Are you still up for it?” 

“Yep,” I said. Picking up the tray I set it to the side then was on her again. “But how about some morning fun before I send you off to work?” 

“Okay,” she said, opening her legs she was already wet as I dove in. “I can’t believe I’m actually trying for a kid.” 

“Are you ovulating?” I asked. 

“No idea,” she admitted. “Just uh, keep cumming in me.” I nodded and thrust all the way in again. She moaned and scratched my back. It wasn’t long until she was cumming and I was filling her up only to do it again in the shower. 

 

An hour later I was doing the walk of shame out of her apartment. I drew more than a few eyes as mothers sent their daughters off to school. Wide eyed women staring at me, I gave them my best smile and wave. Taking a taxi I headed off to the Menagerie. 

 

I assumed my dad lived in the building Beatrice did. I needed to find his schedule and get a key. With any luck I could confront him there, but the office was a close second option. For now it was a waiting game as I fucked his CFO into bliss. 

 

The street around the Menagerie was pretty much dead. I decided to see if anyone was there to try to settle up and to my surprise the manager, Orlin, answered the door. No longer in her tuxedo from the night before she was wearing a simple workout outfit. Tight top and pants that showed off some curves. 

“You’re up early,” I said as she let me inside the bar. 

“You too,” she said. Not in a good mood I ignored it as she led me to the stairs. Taking me back into her office she opened a safe and threw me a stack of money with my name on it. 

 

“How much?” I asked as I began to count it. 

 

“$26,500,” she said. “That’s half what you made.”

I whistled. “Not bad for a night's work.”

“Night’s work? You barely worked 3 hours!” She yelled, growing angry. “I’ve been to places like this in Europe. I’ve never seen anyone do what you did. What the hell was that? You acted like we were in a college bar or something.”

“So?” 

“So, this place is higher class. You had an heiress worth about half a billion dollars doing body shots off of you. And her grandma worth a hell of a lot more than that doing the same,” Orlin said.

“It’s good to let loose now and then,” I said with a shrug. “I didn’t see you complaining last night.”

“I didn’t,” she said. “But I got about 10 girls barking at me asking about you. If you focused on one or 2 of them you could be set for life, kid. Like never have to wipe your own ass kind of life.” 

“Sounds boring,” I said, but there was that heiress. She was very beautiful and I did have fun. “Any girls leave phone numbers for me?” 

 

“I don’t do that,” she said. “I’m not a pimp.”

I barked a laugh. “You’re the pimpiest of pimps,” I said. “Give me the number of the heiress in that black dress, and I won’t demand the other half of what I earned.”

“Our agreement was-” 

“You want me to come back, right?” I asked. She frowned but looked through her Rolodex. Writing a number down she threw it at me. I gave her my best smile as I put the sheet of paper in my pocket. 

“Now how much are you going to pay me to keep quiet about the cameras in the VIP rooms?” I asked. She stiffened almost violently. 

 

“What?” She asked. 

“Oh come on. I could see the reflection on the lens. I don’t blame you. I’d do-” 

“What?!” She yelled. “A camera?! That would ruin me.” She stood up slowly, her anger rising. “Show me.”

I was actually caught off guard. I hadn’t expected that sort of reaction. I stood up and walked out of the office. With her following we had the place to ourselves as we walked through the now bright bar area. Moving to the VIP rooms I walked into the one I was in the night before. Moving to the corner I stood on the bench seat and tore off the felt padding on the wall to reveal a camera mounted in the wall. 

Orlin gasped as she pushed me out of the way. It didn’t appear to have been there very long. Drywall cut away to put the camera in the wall, only the lens had been sticking out. “You have to be fucking kidding me!” She yelled. 

“Calm it down,” I said, annoyed. Moving her hand I pulled the camera out of the alcove. “Ha!” No cords leaving the camera, it had a cassette and that was all. The cassette was still inside and I popped it out.

“What?” Orlin asked. 

“It’s not sending recordings anywhere. So someone has to change out the tape whenever they use it. Looks like a 6 hour tape. Not terribly long,” I said. Since she wasn’t in on it I decided to help instead of hinder. “Let’s see if there are more.” I walked out with the camera in hand. 

 

—-

 

We found 6 more cameras. 4 of the VIP Rooms didn’t have any. In her office the cameras and tapes were still inside of the cameras. We watched a few, and I busted the video with Beatrice and I on it.

“What the hell,” Orlin said, still in a daze as she stared at the cameras. 

 

“Seems like you have 2 people to worry about,” I mused. 

“2?” 

“At least,” I said. “Whoever assigns the VIP rooms may not be in on it, but they’re at least getting bribes to direct the correct people to the rooms with cameras.” 

“So they aren’t controlling this?” She asked. 

“No. My guess is either your number 2 or a security guard. Probably all 3,” I said. “At least that’s usually how it goes.”

“Usually?” She asked. “W-why my number 2?” 

“Spies,” I said simply. She looked at me more shocked. “Look, it's no surprise the Russians are good at making spies. They get them shipped over here when they’re young. Get them married with kids. Does your number 2 have kids?” She nodded. “Thought so. That’s an easy way to tell. Let me guess 2 kids?” She nodded again. “Yeah, they don’t like to be in the spotlight. So they run across people like you who have access to these high class people. Earn your trust. Maybe have a few of your secrets in case they ever get found out so they can blackmail you. But if you ever get busted they look squeaky clean. Executives, the rich and famous are your main clientele. The spies get access to secrets and ways to blackmail the rich if they want to. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hosted military personnel now and then too.”

“I-I have,” she said. “W-what do I do?” 

“You uh, ever have to make someone disappear before?” I asked. 

“Disappear?” She asked wide eyed. “No.” 

 

“And you’re against it?” I asked. She thought about it, but it was plain to see. “Fine, do you want to get proof or you want me to make a call to the authorities?” 

 

“You have someone to call?” She asked. 

“I was just in DC, and I’m a boy. I probably know who to call better than you do,” I said. 

She gulped. “Will I get in trouble?”

“Anything illegal going on here?” I asked. 

“I mean…prostitution is frowned upon,” she said shyly.

“Well,” I said, looking around the room again. “It doesn’t look like there's a camera in here, so you’re probably fine. People that are being blackmailed want the extortion to end. So tell me, what do you want to do?” 

“I…are you sure it’s a spy?” 

“50/50 shot,” I said. “Either way you have a blackmailer.” 

 

“Fuck,” Orlin said. “If I report it I’m in the news. If I don’t…” 

“If you don’t then the blackmailer will probably disappear once confronted, but…if it’s not a spy they probably have a lot of money. Which means…Nevermind. Call them all here.”

“What?” She asked. 

“Call all of your employees in. Tell them some heiress is claiming her diamond necklace was stolen,” I said as I stood up, getting excited. “Yeah, that’s it. I’ll solve your problem for you. The blackmailer will quit, nothing will be in the news, and you won’t have to tell anyone anything.’

“Really?” She asked. 

“Yep…for $75,000.” She deflated. “What? You made $26k on me last night. My normal fee for solving problems is $50k.” She frowned. “You want this in the news or not?” She frowned further, but walked over to her safe pulling out 3 more short stacks of cash. “No, for this kind of work I want a check. I need legitimate money. And make it out to Russ Willard.”

“What?” She asked. 

 

“I need some legitimate money. You can call it a consultation fee. Let’s hurry up with this, I have places to be.”