properly fucked.
She hated every one of them.
They loved her.
Lucille was the only girl in the house who spoke to her. The others were suspicious, and jealous of hanging onto their regular johns.
“I bin here five years,” Lucille confided. “Whitejack found me workin’ in a freak show. He was real kind to me, told me I’d like this better, and honey—he sure was right.”
Carrie had no eyes to start making friends, she just wanted to concentrate on business, but in a way Lucille reminded her of herself. They were both freaks, both outcasts only good for one thing.
“I’m goin’ to get out of here one day,” Carrie confided, “I’m goin’ to be bigger and better than Madam Mae. I’m goin’ to have the best place in town.”
“I’ve heard
that
before.”Lucille giggled.
“Yeah, but I
mean
it,” Carrie replied. And she did. Why else was she subjecting herself to anything that came her way? If she couldn’t be the best she might as well be dead.
Her reputation grew. So did her list of regular customers.
“What you got I should know about?” Whitejack asked jokingly one day.
She placed a manufactured smile on her face but her eyes remained cold. “I told you, didn’t I? Sweet, black, hot, an’ young. You-all knows that’s what whitey dick likes.”
Whitejack glanced around. They were in the parlor alone together. He reached over and casually placed his hand inside her kimono on her breast. “You turned out to be a star, girl.”
“Sure. I told you I was good.”
He didn’t move his hand. “I shoulda kept you for myself. Set you up in a room someplace.”
Whitejack was getting hot. Carrie glanced knowingly at his tight white trousers. She could see his prick straining the material. Getting Whitejack hot was some achievement.
She licked her lips. She was looking good and knew it. “So why didn’t you?”
His hand started to move on her breast. “Little girls ain’t my attraction.”
“I ain’t no little girl, Whitejack. I bin around.”
“So you have.” He was moving in on her, pressing his hardness against her thigh.
At that particular moment Madam Mae and two of the girls came walking in the room.
Whitejack backed off double quick, but not before Madam Mae’s beady eyes had taken in everything that was going on. She shot him a deadly look. “We pay for it around here, honey. You-all want a little session with the child, you-all gonna have to pay.” Her voice dripped sarcasm.
Whitejack recovered his composure. “Day I pay for it, woman, I am one
dead
man.”
Madam Mae didn’t skip a beat. “You said it, honey,” she murmured sweetly.
The girls laughed, and the doorbell chimed, interrupting any further exchanges.
Three fresh-faced college boys came piling into the parlor. Madam Mae treated them nicely, gave them a drink, and put them at their ease. She indicated her girls. “Take your pick,” she offered. “Anyone you like.”
Carrie smiled prettily at one of them and took him by the hand to her bedroom.
He was nervous as hell. Sweating, red-faced, jumpy.
“What’s your name, sweet stuff?” she purred.
“Hen… ry.” His voice broke on the
ry.
“So Hen… ry. You and I are going to have us a really beau… ti… ful time. O.K., Henry?”
He nodded nervously. He was eighteen years old and this was his first prostitute.
Carrie peeled his clothes off, clucking with admiration at his puny body. When she took off his shorts she couldn’t conceal a shudder. Thin and white, like a wriggly white worm.
She sighed. “Hen… ry, you sure are one bee-ig bad exciting man! You sure as hell are! You an’ me are goin’ to have us a time like you only ever dreamed about. Right, sweet stuff? Right?”
Gino
1924-1926
On July 9, 1924, Gino Santangelo, after a five-week wait in the Bronx County Jail, was taken to court, pleaded guilty to attempted burglary, and was given an eighteen-month prison sentence. He got off easy, Aldo Dinunzio was sentenced to two
She hated every one of them.
They loved her.
Lucille was the only girl in the house who spoke to her. The others were suspicious, and jealous of hanging onto their regular johns.
“I bin here five years,” Lucille confided. “Whitejack found me workin’ in a freak show. He was real kind to me, told me I’d like this better, and honey—he sure was right.”
Carrie had no eyes to start making friends, she just wanted to concentrate on business, but in a way Lucille reminded her of herself. They were both freaks, both outcasts only good for one thing.
“I’m goin’ to get out of here one day,” Carrie confided, “I’m goin’ to be bigger and better than Madam Mae. I’m goin’ to have the best place in town.”
“I’ve heard
that
before.”Lucille giggled.
“Yeah, but I
mean
it,” Carrie replied. And she did. Why else was she subjecting herself to anything that came her way? If she couldn’t be the best she might as well be dead.
Her reputation grew. So did her list of regular customers.
“What you got I should know about?” Whitejack asked jokingly one day.
She placed a manufactured smile on her face but her eyes remained cold. “I told you, didn’t I? Sweet, black, hot, an’ young. You-all knows that’s what whitey dick likes.”
Whitejack glanced around. They were in the parlor alone together. He reached over and casually placed his hand inside her kimono on her breast. “You turned out to be a star, girl.”
“Sure. I told you I was good.”
He didn’t move his hand. “I shoulda kept you for myself. Set you up in a room someplace.”
Whitejack was getting hot. Carrie glanced knowingly at his tight white trousers. She could see his prick straining the material. Getting Whitejack hot was some achievement.
She licked her lips. She was looking good and knew it. “So why didn’t you?”
His hand started to move on her breast. “Little girls ain’t my attraction.”
“I ain’t no little girl, Whitejack. I bin around.”
“So you have.” He was moving in on her, pressing his hardness against her thigh.
At that particular moment Madam Mae and two of the girls came walking in the room.
Whitejack backed off double quick, but not before Madam Mae’s beady eyes had taken in everything that was going on. She shot him a deadly look. “We pay for it around here, honey. You-all want a little session with the child, you-all gonna have to pay.” Her voice dripped sarcasm.
Whitejack recovered his composure. “Day I pay for it, woman, I am one
dead
man.”
Madam Mae didn’t skip a beat. “You said it, honey,” she murmured sweetly.
The girls laughed, and the doorbell chimed, interrupting any further exchanges.
Three fresh-faced college boys came piling into the parlor. Madam Mae treated them nicely, gave them a drink, and put them at their ease. She indicated her girls. “Take your pick,” she offered. “Anyone you like.”
Carrie smiled prettily at one of them and took him by the hand to her bedroom.
He was nervous as hell. Sweating, red-faced, jumpy.
“What’s your name, sweet stuff?” she purred.
“Hen… ry.” His voice broke on the
ry.
“So Hen… ry. You and I are going to have us a really beau… ti… ful time. O.K., Henry?”
He nodded nervously. He was eighteen years old and this was his first prostitute.
Carrie peeled his clothes off, clucking with admiration at his puny body. When she took off his shorts she couldn’t conceal a shudder. Thin and white, like a wriggly white worm.
She sighed. “Hen… ry, you sure are one bee-ig bad exciting man! You sure as hell are! You an’ me are goin’ to have us a time like you only ever dreamed about. Right, sweet stuff? Right?”
Gino
1924-1926
On July 9, 1924, Gino Santangelo, after a five-week wait in the Bronx County Jail, was taken to court, pleaded guilty to attempted burglary, and was given an eighteen-month prison sentence. He got off easy, Aldo Dinunzio was sentenced to two
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