Chapter 1

The Shoreham Hotel, Washington DC

Cocktail Hour

The placard outside Ballroom A of the Shoreham Hotel in Washington, D.C. simply said “Enterprise Services 8 - 11:30 pm. A casual hotel guest walking by at 7:55 glancing into the ballroom would have seen about 250 well dressed men and a scattering of women. Most of the men wore business suits, but there were a few tuxedos. Most of the woman wore business suits or evening wear.

The hum of the chatter was indistinct outside the ballroom, but it was obvious that everyone was is a good mood. Perhaps, it was an office party for a company that had an extraordinarily good year, the observer might think.

Yet, the presence of two burly men outside the door who looked like retired NFLers did give some pause. The men were checking invitations and ids which seemed a bit strange, but then again, it was a private party.

Promptly at 8 pm, the doors were closed, but the men remained outside the doors barring entry to all, including invited individuals who arrived late.

“I’m sorry sir.” one of the immense doormen said. “The invitation clearly states that the doors will be closed at 8 pm and will not reopen until the event ends.”

Inside the ballroom, a gentleman with greying hair approached the small stage at one end of the hall. The gathering fell silent. “Welcome,” he said, “to the seventh Enterprise Services prize event. I am especially gratified to see so many faces that I recognize from our previous events. To those of you who are new, I hope that you will enjoy the event and join our little family in future events. Our next event is scheduled in six month at the Fairmont in Boston. We will provide more information to all those who participate here by registered mail. At 9 o’clock, we will introduce the prizes and begin the formal part of our program. Until then, please enjoy our open bar and hors d’oeuvres.”

Tom Granger turned to a gentleman in a tuxedo next to him. “Hi, I’m Tom. This is my first event. Have you attended one of the earlier events? I could use a little insight, if you don’t mind?”

“I’m Eric. This is my third event. If you look around, you will find 10 young ladies wearing rather short cocktail dresses circulating around the ballroom. They are the prizes. Each young lady has a number pinned to the left shoulder strap of her dress. Try to get to know as many as you can before the formal event begins. Almost everyone here, including myself, will be trying to win one of them before the evening is over. I have never won a prize, but I am hoping the third time is the charm.”

“Come with me. I think I see one of the prizes. Let’s go over and introduce ourselves.” The pair approached a young blond haired woman in a black cocktail dress that barely reached mid thigh. She was talking to two middle aged men and a woman in an evening gown, who appeared to be about 60.

Eric and Tom introduced themselves and turned their attention to the blond. The number 3 was pinned to the left strap of her dress. She smiled warmly at the newcomers. “Thank you for coming over. I’m so glad to meet you. My name is Jeannine and I hope that you will consider me during the formal program.”

“You’re very beautiful,” Tom gushed.

Jeannine laughed. “I am afraid that we all are. So, I need all the support that I can get.”

Eric interjected. “I think we need some encouragement.”

“So do we.” the other gentlemen echoed.

“I would love to offer more, but in this part of the program, all I am allowed to do is chat. Perhaps?” she suggested wistfully as she drifted away to join another small group of guests.

After she left, Eric said, “ Please, excuse me, I see some people that I need to talk with.”

Tom watched Eric disappear into the crowd. He quickly spotted another beauty in equally short cocktail dress. She was small auburn haired with a freckled face. Her number was 6. He said hello. She introduced herself as Mary Reiley from Boston.

They chatted for a few minutes. She said that she was a little nervous, but very grateful for the opportunity for participate as a prize. She explained that she was $250,000 in debt from her student loans. She was hoping to clear her debts and start fresh as a management trainee in one of the Big Four accounting firms after fulfilling her prize obligations.

Tom wished her luck. He wanted to win her, but he also wanted to check out the other prizes before making a final decision.

Forty-five minutes later, Tom had talked to seven of the 10 prizes. Each was simply gorgeous. They were all excellent conversationalists and wouldn’t be out of place in any setting. He had met a few of the other invitees. Most were discreet and evasive when Tom asked about their backgrounds and business activities. He also overheard a number of different languages being spoken.

When he saw Eric again, he asked, “What gives here? Why is everyone seem so uptight?”

Eric explained, “While nothing we do here is exactly illegal, many of the people here would be quite unhappy if it were to get out they attend events like this one.”

At that moment the gray-haired gentleman mounted the dais again. “Good evening again. For those who don’t know me, my name is Edward Grayson. I want to thank you again for your attendance and support. Without you, there could be no Emerson Services. As you may know, this is the seventh Emerson Services auction. Each of you has an id number on your invitation. After the first formal presentation, paddles will be distributed. Please write you id number on the paddle. You will need it for the bidding.”

“At this time, I must request that all hotel personnel leave the premises. After the hotel employees have left the room, we will lock the doors and no one may enter or leave until the proceedings are completed. If anyone is uncomfortable with this, please also leave now.”

“Will our ten prize ladies now join me on the stage. Please stand on the circle that corresponds to your lapel number. When your number is called, step forward to the circle at the center front of the stage and tell us about yourself.”

“Honored guests, if you wish to ask questions, raise your hand. The prizes have agreed to answer all questions truthfully to the best of their ability.” So, without further ado, will prize number one step forward.” A brunette with shoulder length hair stepped forward. She was wearing a green cocktail dress that revealed the swell of her breasts and he legs up to mid thigh. A spotlight highlighted her figure. Tom thought that she might not be wearing panties, but he couldn’t be certain.

“Hello everyone. I am Prize Number 1. I am from Omaha, Nebraska. I am 24 years old. I have three younger sisters. My father is a postal worker and my mother stays at home to care for my sisters. I was a cheerleader in high school and a swimmer. I also swam in college. I am currently employed as a first year law associate at a large New York City law firm. I have been advised that I cannot disclose the name of the firm. So, please don’t ask me.” With that she twirled around exposing a quick glimpse of buttock.

A hand shot up. “Where did you go to school?”

“I attended public high school in Omaha, Creighton University, and Harvard Law. I graduated earlier this year.”

“Whats your favorite sex position?” was shouted out from the back of the room.

Judy blushed. “I don’t have one. However, I really like to watch a man’s face as he cums.”

With no further questions, she returned to her numbered circle.

“Number two,” commanded Mr. Grayson.

Another brunette walked forward turned and returned to her spot.

Now, it was the turn of the blond that Tom had met earlier. She seemed a bit nervous as she stepped into the center circle. The black dress accentuated her pale skin. “Hello, I am 19 years and a sophomore at the University of Tennessee studying architecture. My father is a physician and my mother is a lawyer. I have an older brother and a younger sister. Our home is in Memphis. I was something of a nerd in high school. I was on the debate team and ran track in high school. My university studies require my full time attention through May 25. After that, I am available 24/7 through September 15. Also, I have no geographic limitations on travel as long as I can been back in Nashville for the start of the fall semester.”

A hand raised. “What is you current GPA?”

“I currently carry a 3.75 which I hope to improve this semester.”

As there were no more questions, she returned to her spot.

Number 4 was a raven haired hispanic beauty. She wore a beige dress that clung to her upper torso to the point that her extended nipples were visible beneath the covering. She stepped forward, twirled and smiled.

“I am Prize Number 4. My home is San Juan, Puerto Rico. I am fluent in English, Spanish and Italian. My father manages a night club in San Juan. My mother is Italian, originally from Abruzzi. She works as a housekeeper. I have five brothers and sisters, two girls and three boys. We grew up in a three bedroom home. So, we had to be close. When I was 11, I won a scholarship to a Catholic all girls school in San Juan. I played field hockey and was on the gymnastics team. I received a scholarship to Duke University where I majored in psychology and minored in economics. After Duke, I earned an MBA from the Sloan School at MIT. I plan on joining a small CPA firm in Philadelphia after I graduate. I love to dance, especially salsa. Mr. Grayson has asked me to dance for you after the first round of presentations.”

“Do you have any prior work experience?”

“Yes, in high school, I worked in a shirt waste factory in San Juan doing piece work. After I turned 18, my father got me a job as a cashier in his club in San Juan. At MIT, I was a teaching assistant.”

When there were no more questions Mr Grayson said,”Tell us about the club in San Juan.”

She colored slightly. “It was a strip club with private rooms available for special guests. I didn’t strip or service the guests, but I was required to wear a costume.” She paused and looked imploringly at Mr. Grayson.

“Go on,” he said, “Describe the costume.”

Number 4 blushed more deeply. “I had to wear five inch heels, a silver sequined g-string that barely covered my pussy, cat ears and an 18 inch tail fastened to the rear of the g-string.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, the tip of my nose was painted black and whiskers in greasepaint were drawn on my face radiating from my nose.”

“What did your father say about that?”

“The costume was his idea. He didn’t like it that I was getting an education and had a chance to leave the barrio. He wanted to humiliate me. And, he did. I never want to go back to Puerto Rico, ever.”

“Thank you Prize Number 4. you may return to your spot.”

“Number five, please step forward. She quickly went through her educational background and work history.

Prize Number 6 was next in the center circle. Her auburn hair complimented her green dress. The spotlight highlighted the freckles which descended down to her breasts which seemed on the verge of popping out. She did a small curtsey and smiled broadly at the assemblage.

“I am Prize Number 6. I have lived all my life in the Boston area. My father is a car salesman and my mother works as a waitress. I am the youngest of four children. I have three brothers who have even more freckles than I have. I graduated from Boston College and have an MBA from Harvard. I have been offered and accepted a management trainee position at one of the Big Four accounting firms. The position will be held open for up to one year. So, ladies and gentlemen, your actions here tonight will be a major factor on when I start my professional career.” she said with a broad smile.

Someone in the audience shouted, “Which professional career?”

Mr. Grayson held up his hand. He turned to one of the attendants nearby. “Please have one of the doormen escort that gentleman from the room. We do not tolerate any disrespect toward our prizes. Prizer Number 6 is a highly valued member of our community. She deserves the highest respect for what she is doing here tonight.”

One of the doormen grabbed the shouter by the arm and dragged him toward the door. The surprised shouter screamed in protest. “I paid $500 for this. I can say anything I want. These girls are nothing but whores and deserve to be treated as such.” A swift punch in the face ended the shouter’s belligerence.