Gloria Gags is a tall leggy twenty-three year old who takes an irreverent delight in sex with partners of either gender. She has a rump which cries for attention, full hips, and teacup size natural breasts. Her nipples have small hardware attachments. She has several tattoos, fluorescent lavender hair, and wears cute glasses, which she later continued wearing even while having sex. “Jeez, Sonja,” I had said when Madame mentioned her latest sex provider. “Her hair looks a napalm explosion. Her breasts have got lifting shackles. And she’s a porn actress. I’m looking for some sweet little innocent thing. This Gags woman sounds as innocent as a used condom.” Sonja just smiled. Leaning close, she whispered, “She’s a brothel virgin.” My eyebrows rose. “Gloria was cleared yesterday,” Sonia said. “She’s waiting to book her first party. And you didn’t see her when we picked her up in Las Vegas. She was staring at the buildings and laughing like a kid on her first trip to the big city. I think Gloria could be a lot of fun.” Sonja squeezed my hand. “For both of us.” Soon thereafter I was sitting at the Alien Cathouse bar chatting with Gloria, who was wearing a skintight tank top and nothing much else. She was an animated conversationalist, and as I covertly eyed her delicious bottom, I learned that she had only done a single porn film—and that she was sexually aroused by pain. I ended up renting Gloria as a ‘side dish’ for my tryst with Madame Sonja. Soon thereafter we were all naked, except for Gloria, who kept on her glasses. After a get-acquainted spanking administered by Sonja (to Gloria, not McNally) our companion enthusiastically began performing various intimate services for Madam while I educated myself in the aphrodisiac qualities of pain. “What do you feel now?” I asked Gloria as I tightened my fingers on an intimate part of her anatomy. I know what I would have felt—like screaming. But Gloria just wet her lower lip with her tongue. “Ecstasy,” she murmured. In return for my education in S&M, I provided a brief history lesson, telling Gloria that Andrew Jackson was responsible for a program of genocide against the Cherokee nation, and that today many Cherokees refuse to accept twenty dollar bills because of Andy’s picture. “Did you know that Madame is part Cherokee?” I asked. Gloria didn’t answer. Apparently her mother had taught her never to speak with her mouth full. After a brief but memorable threesome, during which Sonja got credit for the most memorable bit of dialog (“Thrust harder, McNally—I like it when her head bumps my tummy.”) Gloria’s time was up. “And now it’s time to strike a blow for Madame’s Cherokee ancestors,” I said as I put my hand behind Gloria, who gasped, then grinning in delight, walked naked out of the bedroom. “What did you do to that girl just before she left?” Sonja asked as we began round two. “Just a little something for the Cherokees. I stuck a twenty dollar bill up her butt.”
