Before me lay a boyish-looking man in his mid-thirties, stark naked on top of the bed. (Most of the women prohibited customers from getting underneath their sheets and comforters and had them lie on a top sheet, changed with each client.) When the customer saw me, he broke into a wide self-conscious grin that made his entire face squish up like an apple-face doll. "This is the girl I was telling you about," said Baby. "She's in training here. She's just going to watch. Farrah and I are going to get naked, not her." I breathed a sigh of relief.

Baby told me to take a seat on a nearby chair while she went to strap on the dildo. Meanwhile, Farrah sat at the head of the bed, massaging the client's back with her bare breasts. The man kept his eyes glued on Baby's image in a mirror hanging low on the wall as she buckled the thick leather dildo harness around her slender waist. When she began to roll the condom onto the dildo, the blond boy-man looked apprehensive for the first time.

His name was Jack, he told me later, and he was an architect from southern California who was in town for a convention and had mustered up the courage to venture out to the Mustang Ranch after a few cocktails in the casinos. He'd never expected to stay, but when he overheard some of the women in the brothel bar trading stories about some of the kinky as well as conventional kinds of sex they sold, he decided to take the plunge. Since his teens, Jack had suppressed his fantasy for fear of ridicule.

He had picked Farrah from the lineup because she resembled one of the cheerleaders he had fantasized about in high school. Scared to put his desire into words, Jack became even more nervous after he had done so, when Farrah announced that she would have to check whether she could provide the service he wanted. Left alone in her bedroom, he considered getting dressed and scurrying out of the brothel to avoid the humiliation of being denied. But then Baby came in, having already assumed the persona of a dominatrix, and put him immediately at ease. Of course she knew what he wanted, she told him. He would just need to be a very good boy, or Miss Baby wouldn't give him what he deserved. She remained professional throughout the interaction, and in the process gave this man every indication that his sexual fantasy was normal and commonly requested. Her commanding but nonjudgmental demeanor permitted him to begin feeling aroused.

Undressed now down to a lacy black bra and a matching G-string beneath the strap-on, Baby spread open Jack's legs and let his knees hang off the bed before she began to penetrate him slowly from her standing position, her thighs pressed firmly against the bed. Jack winced as Baby forced the dry, condom-covered dildo into him, meeting significant resistance. (He had requested painful penetration.) Meanwhile, Farrah sat naked at the head of the bed, where Jack used his outstretched hands to play with her nipples while she occasionally slapped him across the hands. She looked uncomfortable in the twisted position necessary to give Jack access to her breasts and allow her simultaneously to observe what Baby was doing. With a better sense of Jack's tolerance for pain now, Baby began thrusting deeper into him, with the force of all her body weight.

"You like this don't you, bitch?" she roared, spanking him on the buttocks with an open hand. "You whore. You slut."

Intermittently, Baby took hold of Jack's testicles and squeezed them, making him yelp. Then she grabbed a tuft of his hair and yanked his head backward with a deliberate measure of control. She had achieved a perfect balance between violation and restraint -- a controlled dominance, if you will -- in which Jack felt safe enough to submit to the abuse willingly.

I noticed Jack's gaze in the reflection in the mirror. His self-conscious, goofy grin had evolved into a grimace that conveyed both his physical pain and psychological ecstasy. His wild eyes revealed his wonder at finally having his sexual fantasy realized in such a public way.

"Look at you beaming," Baby said contemptuously. "You like her watching, don't you? You think you're a little princess, don't you? You exhibitionist." While Baby said she saw him beaming, I saw him bursting with an electrified agony.

After almost 10 minutes, Baby flipped Jack onto his back like a helpless animal. As she started thrusting into him again, this time with his legs draped over her shoulders, she began brusquely rubbing his very erect penis with a free hand. Baby was a master choreographer, acutely sensitive to the exact degree and extent of dominance called for. Jack was now panting like a dog and it took only a few strokes before he let out a howl and ejaculated all over his torso. (Condoms were not always used for hand jobs.)

The room was still for several minutes. Jack lay motionless, with his eyes closed. Silently, Baby and Farrah began moving about, putting the room back in order. Finally, Baby roused Jack with a gentle tap on his shoulder and told him he could get dressed. When Jack stood up, he smiled sheepishly at the three of us. "Thank you, thank you," he said. "I never thought I'd have the courage to ask a woman to fuck me." I guess I must have looked appalled by what I had just seen, because he turned to me and said, "You look as if you need to lie down."

He was probably right. The experience was so intense and surreal, I was reeling. How would I ever explain this experience to my husband? I thanked Jack for allowing me to watch and excused myself, leaving the three of them to chat about his life in Los Angeles. No one saw me leave Farrah's room, and I sneaked back into the parlor. I tried to act nonchalant and normal with the other women, but it was a struggle. What I had witnessed was like seeing a human being splayed out on a bed with his guts exposed. It would take some time for me to assimilate the whole experience.

Private Life Romance, relationships, and the personal side of Table Talk