Exhibit by Stella Noir, Aria Frost

alone. The lightly clothed girl on his arm looked almost half his age, barely old enough to drink, but twice as wise in the profession she had chosen. Carl cursed as he flicked the light switch without response.
    “Denny, you fuck, are you here?”
    No answer
    “Come on. It don't matter one way or another if he is.”
    He led the girl through the living room and into the bedroom. A cold, scared pair of eyes watched them pass only inches away, before a door slammed and the light from the street lamp outside the window in the bedroom was cut off completely. Denny buried himself as best as he could in the pile of cushions, hiding himself further into darkness.
    “Well go on then”, Carl said to the girl. “Show me what you can do.”
    “I aint doing nothing until you pay me”, she spat at him between long puffs on a filterless cigarette.
    Carl grabbed her by the chin, hard enough to hurt her.
    “You do as your told or you aint getting nothing at all.”
    What little she could see of him, which was just about the eyes and nothing else, filled her with so much dread in that moment, that if she could have figured out a way to leave without getting hurt, she would have run and not stopped until the sun came up around her. Eyes like some kind of devil, but worse, she'd explain to her friends over the coming days. Like there was nothing but evil behind them. Then as quickly as she'd seen it, it went away again, as though she'd never seen it at all. She knew who he was of course, or at least she'd heard about him. Small time crook, long time layabout. A man of the country, from the old times with a black heart and fists of stone. There were hundreds like him, all over the spit and sawdust town she figured for home.
    “I aint waiting much longer”, Carl said, swaying lightly, bottle still in hand.
    She looked up to him again. A heavy set shadow swaying in the depths of nothing. He was nothing she thought. One more fuck, twenty more dollars, food for another week. She unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock. She palpitated it awake and in her hand it began to grow.
    “There she is”, Carl said. “Finest home reared meat in the county.”
    When it was erect enough, she put it to her lips and began to suck. She ran her tongue up and down his shaft, nuzzled it into the soft connective tissue at the bottom of his glans, and ran it around his rim. Even with those she didn't like, she was a consummate professional.
    “Oh yeah, baby, that's fucking incredible”, Carl hollered, between sips of cheap whiskey.
    She pulled his trousers and boxer shorts down so she could fondle his balls, and Carl lifted his leg up on the bed to make it easier for her. There were three things Carl liked to do, drink, fight and fuck, and those who knew him in the town, knew he couldn't do any of them very well.
    He held the back of her head, grasped her hair tightly, and tilted her chin up towards him.
    “Aint you pretty, Maylene”, he said. “Open up wide.”
    She opened up wide for him and he forced his length into her throat, almost making her choke. Carl found it highly amusing. In the dirty light he could see her eyes too, big sorry eyes that had seen more than they ever should, now filled yet again with salty tears. Carl thrust harder, and a tear jumped from her eye and rolled down her face. Another one did the same on the other side. When Carl had finished his sick game, and finally decided to pull out, his cock was covered in thick webs of saliva. She coughed and gasped down air.
    “What's the matter, Maylene?”, he said. “You aint never had nothing bigger?”
    “My name is Mary-Lou”, she spat back at him.
    “Whatever. Your name is whatever I tell you it is. Now get that pussy out and bend over the bed. Daddy's got some work to do.”
    Mary-Lou pulled down her shorts and lifted up her top. Half a moment later she was naked. Carl reached out and felt her pussy, sliding a finger mercilessly into her hole. Mary-Lou held back a gasp, as