Callahan's Lady by Spider Robinson

By Spider Robinson

A home OF "HEALTHY" REPUTE...Welcome to woman Sally's, the home that "is" a house -- the across the world (hell, interplanetarily) infamous bordello. At girl Sally's apartment, the client does not inevitably come first: even the employees are certainly having fun with themselves.Wife of time touring bartender Mike Callahan, and supplier of a few of the main strange and gifted acting artists ever to paintings within the box of hedonic interface, Her Ladyship has designed her condo to be an "equal chance enjoyer," discreetly, tastefully and joyfully catering to all erotic tastes and fantasies, notwithstanding strange. Like her recognized husband, woman Sally does not even insist that her consumers be "human."..as lengthy as they've got stable manners.Small ask yourself, then, that she and her employees stumble upon beings as precise and noteworthy because the superhuman Colt, whose banner by no means, ever flags...Diana, the lethal dominatrix who "cannot" be disobeyed...Tony Donuts, the moronic man-monster even the Mafia does not are looking to mess with...or Charles, the werewolf with a different difference...

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Some people can’t stand to see a good horse mistreated. I was in a goddamn whorehouse, and from the looks of Doctor Kate and Robin, a very kinky whorehouse, and unless - I played my cards just right, I was never going to get out of it. There are basically three kinds of prostitute: street hooker, call girl, and house whore. Each kind is convinced that the other two are the lowest of the low. I was a little more sophisticated: I had started as an independent call girl, then shifted tracks after a few unpleasant incidents persuaded me that it was good to have a protector.

Do you work here? ” He smiled. “I have that honor” He was certainly the most mature and pleasant male hooker I had ever met. “And you don’t collect the money yourself? ” He smiled again. “Even assuming I didn’t know her, the issue doesn’t arise. ” I blinked. “Do you mind if I ask…” “Not at all,” He named a figure. “That’s after withholding. ” I managed to unpop my eyes. ” As a colonel in the Army, my father had made less than half as much. ” “Each time somebody new comes here, Lady Sally sees him or her in private first.

This had to be where the very very rich came. The prospect of working here began, for the first time, to seem a little less like a fate worse than death. Suppose you only got to keep … say, ten percent of what you made. That could still amount to a tidy sum. And the kind of people you’d meet… But what did the very very rich want? Straight hooking was such a simple, trivial skill: any fool could learn to do it. Hell, it had taken Big Travis about a day and a half to teach me the ropes, back when I got started.

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