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THE DISCIPLINED MALE - VOLUME 5

by W. Arthur


The House of the Descending Moon

It was widely known in West Texas and even into the New Mexico territory that if you had money in your pocket and were looking for amusement that included female companionship, the House of the Descending Moon was your likely destination. Opened in 1873, you could find whiskey, beer, poker games, faro, and (of course) willing females. As long as you behaved like a gentleman, agreed to take a bath, and had a few dollars to spend, you were welcome at any time - twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. It didn't matter who you were or where you came from: rich, poor, prominent, notorious, unknown, white, black, Mexican, or even Chinese - the policy of the house was not to discriminate against any man.

There was one ironclad rule that made the house acceptable to the wives in the area. This was posted in bold print right outside the wide front door: 'Married men must have permission from their wives to enter'. The current owner of the house, Julia Travis, believed that hard working men deserved their amusement - and she was only too happy to provide it. However, she also believed that men needed to look after their families first. Under no circumstances would she take money that should rightfully go to a man's wife and children. She made no exception to this rule. If she knew you were married (and she always knew) and didn't have a written note from your wife, you were denied entrance by either Joe, Red, or Carlos, the burly and ever vigilant front men.

Jim Foster learned that lesson the hard way one Saturday night in late April. Jim was the blacksmith for the town of Briarville. Even though he was married and had four children, he had been making the five mile trip from his home to the house at least three or four times a month since February. He always brought a note from his wife, Mary. If anyone ever asked (and they usually didn't), he claimed his wife didn't want any more children and thus routinely turned him out of their bed. He would take a bath, drink two shots of whiskey, and pay to be serviced by Carmelita, a brown-eyed beauty from El Paso. Because he was generally one of dozens of men, he passed largely unnoticed and unchallenged. He paid his money, behaved like a gentleman, and got what he wanted.

This particular Saturday night began pretty much the same way. Jim arrived around five, finished his bath by five-thirty, drank his whiskey, and went to Carmelita's room. However, before he could shed his long johns, there was a commotion at the front door of the house. A stern young woman in a dark blue dress was furiously trying to get past Carlos. She claimed she was Mrs. Jim Foster.

Eventually, the loud voices got the attention of Julia, who was working on the books and handling receipts. She stood up, smoothed down her dress, and walked pompously to the door. "What is all this disturbance?" she asked.

Carlos was restraining the woman with one beefy arm. He looked at his employer. "Madam Julia, thees woman say she eez Mrs. Jim Foster," he replied.

Julia quickly scanned the young woman struggling to get past the guard. She processed the name, Jim Foster, and remembered - she had a talent for never forgetting a customer, especially a regular. She smiled. "You are Jim's wife?" she questioned softly.

Mary Foster squirmed to break free. Her blue eyes blazed. "Yes, I am," she said assertively.

Julia was impressed. Standing before her was a very strong-willed woman who was also very pleasing to the eye, with a shapely figure and a youthful, unblemished face crowned by a pile of clean blonde hair. Julia had to restrain herself from offering the young woman a job on the spot. She gave Carlos a discreet wink.

"Please come in, Mrs. Foster," she said, stepping back into the large and ornately decorated foyer. "And tell me what the problem is."

Once they were inside, Carlos closed the door behind them. Julia steered Mary to two vacant overstuffed chairs near a fireplace. Voices of men and women enjoying themselves drifted in from other parts of the establishment. Mary's wide eyes were in constant motion, even after she sat down.

Julia gazed at Mary with a patronizing smile etched on her mature face. She had come west from Ohio when she was eighteen to search for adventure and to escape an arranged marriage to the son of a local farmer. In the intervening twenty-five years she had done her share of living and didn't regret one thing she had ever done. "Mrs. Foster, what is the problem?" she repeated after a long pause.

Mary Foster looked at Julia as though waking from a dream. "This... is a... bawdy house, isn't it?" she asked finally, in a voice barely above a whisper.

Julia's smile widened. She admired innocence; it was such a rare commodity in West Texas, even among the women. "I suppose you could say that," she replied. Then her smile faded a little. "I thought you understood that."

Mary's eyebrows rose, exposing more of her liquid blue eyes. "Why would you say that?"

Now Julia was concerned. "Mrs. Foster, I maintain a very strict policy here - no married men are permitted without written permission from their wives," she said. "Your husband had a note from you."

"What note?" Mary exclaimed. "Ma'am, I only found out about this house today. Jim told me he was going to a... a political meeting... something about ranchers' rights. I, of course, thought he might have a few drinks and tell stupid war stories with the other men. But I never suspected anything... like this."

Julia could feel herself grow angry - not at Mary Foster, but at Jim Foster for so shamelessly deceiving her and his wife. Julia Travis could forgive - even exploit - most of the faults that men seemed to have in abundance. However, she drew the line at outright deceit. She took a deep breath to calm herself and laid a hand softly on Mary's knee.

"So... Mrs. Foster... you didn't write a note giving Jim permission to come here?"

Mary shook her head. "I... don't even know what you're talking about?" she said. "If he's here, I've come to fetch him home."

Julia smiled again. "Of course you have," she declared. In her quick mind, she had resolved to let the wife take her husband home - but not immediately. No, it would not be that simple or easy. Jim Foster would have to pay a price for deceiving his wife and the mistress of the House of the Descending Moon. Julia Travis would see to that. She looked at Mary once again, and gazed into those beautiful eyes. How could any man leave this woman home alone, she thought. "Mrs. Foster... you may certainly take your husband from my house. However, he has deceived both of us, and I can't allow that to go unpunished."

"What do you mean?" Mary asked, leaning slightly forward in the chair, exposing just a hint of her ample cleavage.

Once again, Julia was impressed - what perfection, she thought. "Honey... you are a beautiful woman," she declared.

Mary blushed slightly but said nothing.

"Far too beautiful," Julia continued, "for your husband to be spending his Saturday nights here. No... I think we need to teach your husband a lesson in honesty and loyalty. He should be spending his nights... and his money, at home."

Mary looked a little concerned and confused. "I'm not sure I understand," she said.

"Do you approve of your husband being here?" Julia asked.

"Of course not," Mary said indignantly. Then her expression softened a little. "Meaning no offense, of course."

Julia smiled. "None taken," she said. "Mary... would you say that you... you take care of your husband... I mean, like we might take of him here?"

Mary blushed again, this time a little deeper. "I... really don't know," she said. "I... we... married young. I really didn't have very much experience... in that way."

"Mrs. Foster... if your husband comes to you in the night, do you turn him away?" Julia questioned.

Mary seemed to think for a moment. "I... I'm pretty tired at night, what with the kids and the chores and all," she said. "And Jim always seems pretty tired too. But I've never refused him, if that's what you mean."

Julia nodded. "That's reassuring to know," she said. "And it makes my decision that much easier."

"I still don't understand quite what you mean," Mary said, still looking every bit the innocent wife.

Julia picked up a small bell on the table next to her and gave it a shake. The resounding tinkle was soft but effective. A moment later, a tall man wearing a dark suit appeared in the doorway. Julia regarded him.

"Andrew... we have a problem with the man currently visiting Carmelita," she declared. "Please take Tom and Miguel and restrain the man. We will be up in a few minutes to conclude the matter."

Andrew looked a little concerned as he stole a glance toward the broad staircase. "He's not hurting Carmelita?"

Julia shook her head. "No... nothing like that," she said. "Don't harm him... just restrain him please."

"Yes, ma'am," Andrew said. Then he turned and left the doorway.

"Now we wait," Julia said to Mary.

Several minutes later, male voices were heard from what sounded like upstairs. "What the hell?" came a weak voice.

Mary leaned forward again, her eyes drawn to the staircase. "That sounds like Jim," she exclaimed fearfully.

"Yes," Julia said. "I imagine it is."

"What's going on?" the wife asked fearfully.

"Nothing to worry about," Julia reassured. "My men are simply holding him. I believe he is disappointed he didn't get to finish with Carmelita; however, I will give you the money he spent tonight."

"Please... ma'am, let me go to him... let me bring him home... please," Mary pleaded.

Julia scowled. "Mrs. Foster... first, my name is Julia. Second, your husband will be free to go just as soon as he is punished. Please don't be too impatient. You might learn something tonight. In fact, it would be good if you did."

"What are you going to do?"

Julia turned toward the doorway, but looked back over her shoulder. "Teach him a lesson he'll never forget - sometimes men need to be reminded that we women are the ones who truly control the world and that there are some things they do that we simply won't tolerate," she declared. "Come with me, Mrs. Foster... please. This should be interesting." Then she disappeared through the doorway in the same direction as the recently departed Andrew.

Mary Foster looked around her for several seconds, but very soon stood up and followed nervously.

A few minutes later, both women were standing outside a small room on the second floor. It was the only room with a partially open door. All the other doors along the corridor were fully closed. Occasionally, a voice or the sound of a bed banging against a wall would drift along the current of the evening, reinforcing the intimate nature of the house.

Julia peered inside the door and first saw Carmelita standing near a small armoire. She was wearing only a white lace camisole and black silk stockings. Her long dark hair was descending limply down her back. Next, Julia saw Andrew and two other men near the bed. Sitting on the bed, looking very anxious, was Jim Foster, still wearing his red long johns. He appeared as though he would bolt out the door or the window at any instant. However, he was flanked by men who were even bigger than he was.



© W. Arthur
Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.