The Congressman And His Brothel - Liaisons Dangereuses On Capitol Hill

The recently-elected, first-time Congressman from the Southwest had been waiting for this moment forever.  For years he had labored in the vineyards of his home state, currying favor with minor politicians, kissing babies, and waving the flag; and now, finally, he was where he belonged, where he was always destined to be, in the halls of Congress. 

 

He was a bit disappointed with his windowless, small office in the Dirksen Building, but knew thanks to the oil and newly-discovered rare earths in his district, he would soon move up.  He had been tagged for early Senate membership and eventual consideration for national office. 

He settled in nicely, assembled a cadre of eager young recruits as his personal, policy, and legislative aides, and proceeded to form alliances with like-minded representatives from neighboring states. 

He was particularly pleased that he could recruit attractive young women for his political staff. His colleagues looked past the sexual innuendoes of such recruitment - all women, all perfect, and all hungrily eager for service.  Although there was no one of color in the ranks, Harlan's political mates respected his judgment and saw only a man eager to redress the gender imbalance in the House.  

Of course Harlan C. Adams had only sexual opportunity in mind when he recruited Samantha from Brown, Heidi from Barnard, and Eloise from Wellesley, girls with intelligence, political ambition, and above all with an elusive but undeniable seductiveness. As aloof, respectful, and proper as they tried to be, the men in their sights kept finding excuses to drop into Adams' chambers for a look. 

Blue-eyed and blonde they all were, for Adams understood the sexual nature of political power.  In this age of faux diversity, where women of alternate sexuality, race, and ethnicity were championed but where every black man, Honduran immigrant, and straight white Italian American male from Brooklyn wanted white, golden, and sky blue, and would do anything for it. 

 

And so it was that each and every time the honorable Harlan C. Adams lent out one of his aides to a political supporter - or better, to a member of the other party - the more he garnered votes for a bridge here, a runway there, and loans and grants and sinecures for wealthy contributors. 

Before you start thinking, 'sexual abuse...political pimping...misogynist manipulation', you have to remember that these girls were sexually active in middle school, and had slept their way to Washington and Capitol Hill, and so were no different from the Hollywood starlets who had spread their legs for moguls and executive producers and became worldwide stars.  Power was a sexual game, and the most endowed, the savviest, and the least concerned with momma's advice, ruled. 

The party faithful loved him. They saw in his creation of a stable of impossibly white girls a political statement. For a population barely over ten percent, black people were everywhere - in the movies, the face of Ozempic ads, and in your face from morning to night.  To any foreign observer, the whole United States was black, ghetto, and 'alternative'. 

In Harlan C. Adams and his Dallas Cowboy girly-girl retinue, conservative politicians saw a  rollback of the race-gender-ethnicity meme of the Left; and he became their hero.  Not only did he let out his most desirable staffers for floor votes, but he enticed a whole nation.  He promised white men a return to silken hair, golden locks and blue eyes and in a spirit or racial harmony and inclusivity offered black men what they have always prized and desired. 

 

The man had figured Washington out in days.  He talked transgender while introducing Janice from Omaha in the cloakroom, promised social reform when all he ever wanted was the way it used to be, and with his generous gifts, harem of beauties that would impress an Ottoman pasha, he bamboozled the whole lot of them. 

Such is politics - a shell game, a Ponzi scheme, a smoke and mirrors charade, a now you see it, now you don't magic show where the only currency is image, and beautiful women the equity behind it. It was so obvious that even a newcomer like Harlan could suss it and get it; but he was a preternatural genius at the game, a backcountry political wizard, a Machiavellian fixer, and perfect gentleman who held doors for women and lent them for the highest price on either side of the Potomac.  

Gifted with a silver tongue Adams could never be denied.  His rhetorical genius was such that pro-abortionists thought him reasonable, anti-abortionists cheered, and both internationalists and nationalists applauded his stances on Russia, North Korea, and Israel.  He was at once a cipher and a principled, morally committed man. 

Most of all it was the women.  Americans sick and tired of transgender this, gay that, black this, brown that, jumped on the Adams bandwagon.  Adams promised that his harem would be America's harem.  It would be Dallas and Baywatch all over again. 

 

Of course to get reelected even in a racially clean district such as his, he had to pay lip service to 'diversity' but when he stood on the podium with the glamorous blonde beauty queen from his state, he knew he was appealing to whites, black men, and women who had always dreamed of Catherine Deneuve in Belle de Jour - a beautiful, elegant, aristocratic woman by day, and a call girl by night. 

Elected office was more than Harlan Adams ever expected.  He knew that there would be sinecures, benefits, and untold perks; but he was surprised at the ease with which he moved from chamber to chamber, floor to floor, dispensing favors and receiving them.  Even in this intractably divided House, generous gestures were never forgotten, and he, like a Turkish pasha, gained power, influence, and respect thanks to his guileless, sumptuous gifts.   

As for the girls, they were complaisant - complicit in their patron's scheme of things, eager for opportunity and advancement.  They had been chosen for their beauty, their brains, and most of all there absolute indifference to social prescription.  There were no rules of sexual propriety for them. Sex had always been been an agreed upon contract, nothing more, nothing less, terms to be negotiated. 

All this thanks to country boy Harlan Adams, responsible for the employment of many, the satisfaction of many more. Harlan who served his expected two-year term, then retired with his fiancée Doris of Spokane, former statistical whiz, political seer par excellence, confidante, lover, ally, and above all supporter. 

They were the Valmont-Madame de Merteuil couple of Laclos' Les Liaisons Dangereuses - a pair who admired more than loved each other.  Pleasure and satisfaction was in the seduction of others, especially the innocent.  Theirs was a delightfully scheming charade, an emotional chess game.  It was neither for the ruin of the young girls Valmont seduced, nor for his victories, but for the fun of the chase, the pure will of the seducer, the playing out of the human game of impossibility satisfied.  

Harlan engineered the seduction of Congressmen from both sides of the aisle, compromising their supposedly rock-solid sexual propriety, marital fidelity, and political rectitude.  His women played their part to a 'T', maneuvering these rubes with professional tact, aplomb, and insider information - all men were the same although they didn't know it and if they did never admitted it.  The game was rigged in the women's favor, and contrary to the prevailing victim culture of the Hill and beyond, they were the victors, never leaving without being paid handsomely, putting dollars and the liaisons themselves in their purses, and leaving trail of what-hit-them men behind. 

'Why no re-election bid?', he was often asked to which he demurred, said he was quite happy in his new civilian life, and was thankful to the nation for his livelihood, his wife, and his unbelievable good fortune,