In my current job, I spend a lot of time visiting the social fringes and taking care of other people’s problems, making sure that by and large, things are going well in society. It’s not the most fascinating job in the world, but at least it lets me be my own boss, I get to go out and meet actual people that way and I feel that I’m actually doing something good, however small that might be at times. Plus, it sometimes has very ... tangible benefits.

The area I’m assigned to is mostly rural, with a few small towns, but like all places has its seedier streets and dirty underbelly. Among those is a bordello, which had run into a few problems that were just mounting up. Unlike most other establishments of this sort, it was actually not owned by a group of pimps who were pushing “their girls” to work for them, but were just renting out rooms and access to its facilities to about 20 to 25 girls who all were pretty much independent and “self-employed” as far as I could see.

This meant the girls were all working on their own accord and actually enjoyed their work, and got to keep most of their profits for themselves, which led to a very relaxed atmosphere. The downside of this was that each of them had to take care of their own obligations themselves - medical checkups, papers, taxes, bureaucracy - and some were just more ... sloppy, than others. The place was disliked by certain local politicians who wanted to score votes by showing a strong arm against “immoral elements in our midst”, and when rumours about some large-scale orgies surfaced that was just the thing they needed to shut it down.

So given that I’m one of the few women on the team and out of those was probably the only one that had no problems dealing with sex workers, I agreed to take on that case. In my file it said that an “anonymous caller” had informed police that “sex orgies” were taking place there on certain nights, where a “large crowd of nasty men” were all taking turns on one woman. Since this was not illegal in and of itself, but might violate some sanitary or medical regulations, police had handed the case over to us. And so I drove out there one night, during which these activities were supposed to take place.

The bordello itself was a little outside of inhabited areas, located in an old farm building that was nicely redone into a club-like hall with some small rooms attached to it, all of which seemed occupied. The neon lights called it “Club Jenna”, and judging from the cars on the parking lot, it was well visited, but not packed. I parked and breathed deep for a moment. I had dressed nicely, though a little slutty, as I didn’t want to stand out too much right away.

I wore some tall brown leather boots with a cool red pattern on them that I just loved, and low-rise washed out jeans that were a little too tight for me. A little corset-like undergarment gave me a sweet shape and pushed my tits up nicely, while I wore a loose white blouse above it that covered it almost completely, leaving just enough to the imagination. My hair was pulled up in a sloppy updo that left curly strands hanging down the sides of my face, and I made an exception and put on an excessive amount of make-up, going a little nuts with it as I didn’t use it often. That led to my eyes having dark black eyeliner all around and nice emerald-coloured eyeshadow, a little purple smudge in the corners with yellowish highlights around my eyebrows and some dark red lipstick.

I looked in the mirror and was pleased. I would’ve fucked myself, which is as it should be according to one of my life mottoes. I grabbed my handbag and got out, walking up to the entrance. The girl greeting me was smiling sweetly. She seemed very young, and not a prostitute herself, just greeting guests as they arrived. “Hello,” she said. “Welcome to Club Jenna. The bar is right this way,” she pointed, “or if you already know who you’d like to meet, you can step over here to our parlour.” She pointed to a staircase on her other side. I nodded. “I’ll just have a drink first, thank you,” I said, stepping through dark wooden double doors into the bar area.

There weren’t many men in the bar, just a lot of the girls sitting idle on chairs and stools, sipping drinks and smoking. I smiled as they each looked at me interested, and walked up to the circular bar in the center of the room. I squeezed onto a bar stool and nodded to the bartender. “What can I get you?” she asked. She was the only one in the room besides me that was halfway clothed, the rest of the girls wore lingerie, bikinis or just went topless. “Coke,” I said. She got me a glass with a few ice cubes in it and poured the drink. I sipped, then began to look around the room.

The walls and ceiling were inlaid with wooden panels, and draped with red sheets that matched the red leather upholstery of most of the furniture. It was divided into separees that lined the walls, all with comfortable looking leather benches and tables. The lights were dimmed, without being too dark and the whole place had a nice, friendly atmosphere. However, there was no sight of any orgy taking place, so if something seedy was going on, it wasn’t here.

One of the hookers finally walked up and sat down next to me. “Hey sweetie,” she said. “What can I do for you?” I looked at her. She had black hair and dark tanned skin, a sweet athletic body that looked like she worked out a lot and a cute little face to go with it. She was smaller and much thinner than me and her head looked a little too small for her body, which gave her a childlike appearance, even though she was clearly older than I was. Despite that, her breasts were nice and round and full and pushed up nicely in a striped black-and-white bra. She wore matching panties that stretched nicely across her likewise round and tight butt. All in all, I estimated her to be about 40 years old.

I smiled back at her. “I heard some kind of party is going on today,” I said, not even lying. “And, well, I was kinda curious and wanted to see if I could, well, maybe be part of it.” She looked sideways to the other girls, then smiled and shrugged. “Oh well,” she said. “You’re a little late for that, they finished about 20 minutes ago. Charlotte’s off for the rest of the evening.” I nodded. “Hm,” I said. “is it possible to talk to her anyway? Just so I can maybe be there next time?” I smiled my sweetest, most innocent smile and even managed to look a little dumb, like someone who has no clue about these things. She looked at me for a moment, then said: “Ah, okay, why not. You know her room?” I shook my head. “Well, it’s upstairs from the entrance, fourth on the right, number 27.” I thanked her and took another sip from my glass, then grabbed my things and walked out.

I went upstairs and knocked on the door she described. “Yeah,” I heard someone say. “I’m sorry,” I said, stammering a little. “I ... ah ... I must’ve missed the ... I heard about the party today and ... someone said it’s over, so ... I was just curious and...” I don’t think I made much sense, but she just seemed to be relieved that I wasn’t a guy and so she opened. Charlotte was a pretty young thing. She was slender, but had a broad frame, so she would never be thin, no matter how hard she tried. She was in her early twenties and had long black hair that currently hung in messy streaks, light eyes that looked grey in the pale light and wore some dark make-up and fake lashes, all of which was messy and running down her face from the largest amount of cum I had ever seen on a woman.

Her left eye was closed and gooey with sperm, which was all over her cheeks and the sides of her mouth, stringing in her hair and running down her throat. She wore a tight black swimsuit which was equally messy and ripped around her tits and crotch, both of which were equally sticky and splashed. She grinned as I stared at her. “Hey,” she said. “Come on in.”

I stepped past her into a small, but nicely decorated room with a large bed against one wall and a few leather chairs on another with a large flat-screen tv between them. She put a hand on her hip. “You don’t look like you’re a sister,” she said, sizing me up. I smiled. “Well,” I said. “I’m not. I’m from social services, and we were concerned about you.” She folded her arms in front of her chest, taken aback. “Why?” she said, slightly upset. “Just cause I’m a whore? Just cause I fuck for a living?” I sighed. “Look, we know what all of you do here, and we don’t really care. But there are certain things we need to check to make sure that all the girls working here are healthy and safe.” I smiled.

“I ain’t doing anything wrong!” she said, almost shouting. “I like what I do and I make good money at it!” I motioned her to calm down. “Okay, okay,” I said. “Then why don’t we go over everything one by one and make sure that I can report that to the city and close the file?” She twirled around and stomped towards a window. “I’m not doing nothing,” she said, just as loud.

Just as I opened my mouth to ask her again, the door swung open, and the same woman that had greeted me in the bar came in. “What’s going on, girls?” she asked, looking at me suspiciously. “She’s the police,” the girl said, pointing at me. “She wants to kick me out!” I sighed. “I’m not doing any such thing,” I said, calmly. “I’m from social services, and we need to investigate accusations of health and safety irregularities.” The woman stared back at me and said coldly: “Well, I’m Jenna and this is my place, and you can just get your fat ass out of here and do your investigating elsewhere, because there’s nothing wrong here.”