Pawtawnee Chronicles /
(pop 2096, located on the shore of Lake Michigan, Wisconsin, USA)
is undergoing changes: a cathouse (Messalina Saph's Kitty-Kat
Lounge) has sprung up in town: this is an ongoing chronicle of
alterations wrought in the personalities of the residents as a
consequence: oppression and Puritanism persist, to be sure, but
no longer hold absolute sway...
No. 1: appearance
and disposition of Messalina Saph, businesswoman. "Sir,
feel free to reach up and masturbate the slut -- that's what she's
No. 2 or No.
did the residents of Pawtawnee suspect that when the old -- much
fallen into disuse -- Kristen Hotel was purchased by a wealthy
female resident of Chicago, the character of their little town
would dramatically change.
"Well, I wish her the best," Mrs. Naughton -- wife of
the county judge -- had said with utter sincerity. "Lord
knows our chamber of commerce could use a healthy shot in the
arm -- a good hotel might just do it -- it's not too far-fetched
to suppose that the deer season regulars might not only stay there
and bring money into town during the hunt but return with their
families for spring vacations. Now all we need to do is get the
fishing charters up and running again -- we might very well become
the Wisconsin destination of choice for the discriminating."
But behold the look of dismay which stamps
itself upon the good Mrs. Naughton's face when she's informed
the Kristen will be rechristened "Messalina Saph's Kitty-Kat
Lounge" -- further behold the look of confusion and trepidation
which distorts her features when she first catches sight of the
new proprietress as the latter stands on the front steps, instructs
the workmen as to where to place the sign. What does Mrs. Naughton
see? She sees a tall strikingly beautiful woman who, as she later
reports to sympathetic Bridge Club cronies, is "dressed like
a common harlot."
But let us set Mrs. Naughton's view of the matter aside and describe
the new proprietress in a less biased manner: her name (as might
be conjectured from the name of her establishment) is Messalina
Saph. She's 37 years old but could pass for her late twenties;
is 5' 8" and seldom seen without heels which raise her to
nearly six feet; curvaceously slender of build, gracefully quick
of movement, suffused with an aura of restless energy. Her face
beautiful, with a robust sensual mood about it suggestive of roundedness
although its perfectly proportioned features are rather more chiseled
than smooth; her eyes dark brown, with lively mirth and intent
intelligence and unrestrained licentiousness always apparent in
their expression -- except in those rare cases where she finds
herself obliged to put a troublesome client in place, in which
case they flare up in an instant into twin darts of seething rage.
But the most striking feature about her is her smooth silky red-orange
hair, which tumbles in wild curling waves nearly to her waist.
But her disposition may be best indicated by detailing an episode
from her Chicago past:
episode takes place approximately a month previous to her purchase
of the Kristen Hotel, when a potential customer -- a wealthy partner
in a major Chicago firm -- shows signs of vacillation shortly
after entering the parlor. Being a sensible businesswoman, Messalina
doesn't wish to lose the goldmine which the partner represents:
he must be hooked and quickly, before he gets away -- he must
be shown that he'll never be happy unless he remains to partake
of pleasures he can only suspect the existence of -- he must come
back for more and more! She's at his side in an instant, says
in a sultry purr, "Sir, there's nothing to worry about --
we're discreet professionals -- it's our business to know what
you want and how to give it to you -- our history of trustworthiness
and customer satisfaction speaks for itself. Come Sir, please,
right through this curtain."
They pass into a hallway flanked by "Intimacy Rooms."
She half-yanks him into one of them, saying, "Oh, Sir! If
you leave you'll be wondering what you missed, and you will certainly
have missed a great deal! Just trust me! Can you do that, handsome
one? Can you?" She pushes a button on the intercom: "Elise!
Jamie! Room 7! The gentleman requires an introductory special!"
girls enter, are dressed as if for a formal ball in long clinging
gowns. "Sir," Messalina resumes, "now do as I say
and you won't regret it -- oh, you'll thank me if you do it --
you'll love me! Trust me, I know what you want! Now, lie down
please on your back, here on the floor -- yes, do! Please! Good,
we're going to get along fine -- you're going to have the best
time, you can't imagine! Now girls, be good and slowly pass right
over the good man's face so he can see up your gowns! Excellent
girls, now walk around and around slowly and take turns passing
over his face -- don't stop! And now Sir, may I undo your belt?
Here, yes -- Miss Messalina will undress you -- thank you Sir,
you'll be so glad -- you can't imagine how glad! Now Elise, stand
directly above the good man and spread your legs so he can admire
your endowments! Sir, feel free to reach up and masturbate the
slut -- that's what she's paid for! Yes, Sir! Get your fingers
sticky -- make the trollop squeal! And Elise, will you kindly
unzip that gown, slip it off, and squat so as to make yourself
accessible to the gentleman's tongue? And now Jamie, would you
get a quart of yogurt from next door?"
returns with the quart of yogurt. "Good," says Messalina,
"now be a pleasure-hussy and spoon the yogurt onto the gentleman's
chest -- and, when done, will you please lick it off while temporarily
contenting the gentleman between his legs with your talented hand?"
does as instructed and soon the gentleman is, as we say, engaged
on all fronts: his face moist with the warmth of Elise's love-zone
as his tongue hungrily probes; his chest covered with soothing
smooth cool yogurt being avidly lapped by Jamie's tongue as her
hand gets his apparatus up and throbbing. Before long, Jamie replaces
her hand with her warm loving mouth. "Jamie," Messalina
says, "I'm sure the gentleman wouldn't mind if you joined
Elise in caressing, kneading, and lightly scratching his belly
and chest while you engage him downstairs. And now, my good Sir,"
she concludes, "duty beckons me elsewhere -- I leave you
knowing you're in the best of hands. Do what you will with the
strumpets -- they belong to you! That's right, get that wicked
tongue all the way up inside her -- suck her dry -- make her wail
with joy!" She darts a look at Elise -- a look which informs
her that, regardless of what she's actually feeling, she should
make a good show of being immensely affected by the gentleman's
attentions. She smilingly notes that her new client gives all
appearance of being far too overcome with enjoyable sensations
to be capable of ascertaining what she says or whether she remains
or not; whereupon she takes her leave, doubtless with the aim
of keeping other customers similarly content.
But to return to the present: how, it may be wondered, was Messalina
Saph dressed when the good Mrs. Naughton pronounced the judgment,
"like a common harlot"? Miss Saph was sheathed in a
scarlet silk one-piece -- mid-thigh high, mid-breasts low -- which
displayed the shape of her voluptuously lean body as accurately
as if she'd been wearing nothing at all; white boots -- knee-high,
with five inch heels -- had accentuated her leanness; fishnet
stockings, a crimson choker, and numerous clanging silver bracelets
had competed her wardrobe; she'd worn little make-up, being one
of those rare women who looks more attractive -- authentically
radiant -- without it; and her hair -- well, her hair had tumbled
down her back in endless wild red-orange curls from its semi-piled
up height, ceaselessly swished back and forth according to the
movements of her restlessly alive body -- had caught, twisted,
seemed to delightedly play with the sunlight in a manner which
left the latter joyfully dizzy.
is the appearance and disposition of Miss Messalina Saph, new
proprietress of the Kristen Hotel -- now Messalina Saph's Kitty-Kat
Lounge -- Pawtawnee, Wisconsin (pop 2096). How will the town in
general respond? What changes will be wrought in the attitudes
of its inhabitants? Will the distaste experienced by Mrs. Naughton
prevail or will Miss Saph inspire sentiments of approbation and
friendship as well? Will her latest business venture be a bust,
just manage to stay afloat, or be an unqualified success? These
questions, and many others (such as how Judge Naughton feels about
the matter), will be answered in upcoming installments of The
No. 2 or No.
Pawtawnee Chronicles: Chronicle
© 2001 Sliptongue, Inc.