American Blue (25 page)

‘Are you working with us?’ Doll asked. ‘And you’re both English? Say, but don’t you have the cutest little tushie …’

She was talking to Jemima, who simpered and stuck out her bottom to show it off while I studied the list and made some quick calculations in my head. We had two days, so there would only be time for Jemima to make a single film, but if she took on regular work instead she could earn perhaps three times as much.

Hudson was talking to Ron about their time together in the army, and when another girl came out from the back with a man on each arm Doll was distracted. I took Jemima by the elbow and led her across the room, speaking quietly.

‘Look at this. Even with the house taking fifty per cent, you’d make a lot more doing regular work than from a film.’

She peered at the list, looking doubtful. I went on, horrified by the words coming from my mouth as I tried to talk my teenage niece into turning tricks in a Nevada brothel.

‘It adds up, you see, so long as they’re fairly busy, and you’re sure to be popular.’

‘I see that,’ Jemima answered, ‘and I have fantasised about that: being in a room, and I don’t know who’s going to come in, but I have to do whatever they want.’

‘Now’s your chance,’ I told her, and forced a smile.

‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘I’d have to take on anybody who paid, wouldn’t I?’

‘I suppose so,’ I admitted, ‘but who could possibly be worse than Dan Fishbaugh?’

‘I like older men.’

‘Yes, but much older and you’d have to go digging in Egypt. Anyway, Ron probably lets the girls say no, if they really don’t want to.’

‘I don’t know, that spoils the fantasy a bit.’

‘Make your mind up, Jemima. Sorry, I don’t mean to snap at you. This is much the best way to get some money together, and nobody will ever know, will they?’

‘I suppose so,’ she answered, still doubtful. ‘Would you stay in the room with me, just in case?’

‘What if the men want me too, or want us to do something together?’

‘Then we do it. Come on, Penny. You did it with Fishbaugh, and it’s a great fantasy, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, but …’

‘Please?’

‘But … OK, what the hell does it matter? I knew I’d end up getting fucked silly here from the moment I saw the sign.’

‘Thanks! This is going to be fun!’

She kissed me and skipped back to where Hudson and Ron were drinking champagne at a table. There were glasses for us too, and I drained mine at a gulp as Jemima bounced down on Hudson’s lap. I felt sick with guilt, but she couldn’t have been happier and began to chatter excitedly.

‘Both of us want to do regular work, please, only we’re to be in a room, together, and we have to do everything we’re told for whoever comes in, and I do mean anything—’

‘Whoa there!’ Ron broke in. ‘It’s a great idea, and I’d be first in the queue, but it don’t work that way.
Guys
like to know who they’re going with, and it ain’t fair on the regular girls. If you want to do regular work, that’s just fine, and I know you’re going to be popular, but you have to wait in here and take your chances with all the others.’

He was going to go on, but paused, looking at Jemima, whose face had fallen so far she looked like a sick puppy. I was sure she was putting it on, but he fell for it on the spot.

‘Yeah, well, then again, maybe we can do something about it, we’ll see. Yeah, why not? We’ll do a porno tomorrow, just like that, with you two in a room, and with Hudson, and me, and old Charlie on the gate, and maybe a few local boys, we can keep you happy. How about that?’

‘Great, thank you!’ Jemima answered, jumped up and kissed him on the tip of his nose.

He smiled and grinned at Hudson, who was wearing the expression of patriarchal benevolence he reserved for when Jemima was being a brat or a slut. I felt my heart sink. My plan was in ruins, and I’d prostituted my niece for nothing, because she was still keen to work that evening. Ron glanced at his watch, then spoke again.

‘Why don’t you two girls get dressed up, huh? We’ll be starting to fill up soon.’

‘I won’t be working,’ I pointed out as Jemima scampered off. ‘I’ll just sit here, if you don’t mind.’

‘Sure,’ he answered, ‘only I figured you and Jemima …’

‘I promised to look after her if she went into the room,’ I explained, ‘and maybe … help a bit if a man wanted me.’

‘Suit yourself,’ he answered and reached out to fill my glass.

Jemima was soon back, now with her hair brushed out and tied into bunches on either side of her head,
wearing
cut-down jeans shorts and a Union flag top, both so brief that most of her bottom cheeks and the lower curves of her breasts showed. On her feet were white trainers with the word ‘Sneakers’ picked out in pink, and her socks were pink too, while as a final touch she’d put on a white Stetson hat with a pink ribbon.

‘Cute,’ Ron remarked, eyeing her up and down, ‘real cute. That’s what they call the jailbait look around here. Say …’

He trailed off, glancing doubtfully at Hudson. I could see exactly what he was thinking.

‘She’s old enough,’ I assured him, ‘just skinny.’

Ron nodded and Jemima went back to Hudson’s lap, sticking her tongue out at me as she curled her arm around his neck. I sat back, sipping my champagne and trying to cope with the choking lump of guilt in my throat. She had made her own choice, and it was really none of my business, but it was still almost impossibly hard to just sit there and let it happen.

Nobody else seemed to have the slightest qualms, including Hudson. When it was politely pointed out to him that customers weren’t likely to choose her if she was on his lap with her top up over her tits for him to grope, he simply laughed and sent her off with a smack on her bum. People were beginning to come in by then, both girls and men.

Both were as I’d expected, by and large. The girls were all slim and leggy, most of them surgically enhanced and with dyed blonde hair, except for a couple of black girls, one of whom had the most enormous afro haircut I’d ever seen. Some of the men were brash, others shy, and they came in all ages, shapes and races, but all of them plainly had money to spend, or at least intended to spend money. Everybody
was
friendly, with an openness and honesty about what they were doing that I couldn’t help but find appealing, although with Ron playing his part as genial host and Doll running the bar nobody was allowed to be shifty or furtive.

I stayed quiet, sipping champagne in a shadowy corner with Hudson for company. Jemima was nervous at first, and knocking back drinks faster than she should have been, but both the men and the other girls were fascinated by her. She was soon flirting outrageously, and plainly enjoying herself, but when at last she took a man by the hand and led him out of the room I felt my stomach go tight.

She was about to be fucked, for money, by a man she’d met just minutes before. He looked perfectly decent, a businessman perhaps, or some sort of professional, in his mid-forties, tall and not unpleasant in any way, and yet I found my skin crawling at the thought of them together: Jemima going down on his cock, perhaps allowing him to lick her, maybe sucking his balls, before spreading her thighs for him to mount her, to enter her, to fuck her. Jemima whom I could remember as a tiny baby when Kate proudly passed her across for me to hold.

I reminded myself that she was also the Jemima who had paddled me, pissed on my bottom, made me lick her, and helped arrange for me to be kidnapped and abused by the Brooklyn Bitches. She could look after herself, maybe better than I could, and she was definitely better at handling commercial sex, better by far.

She was soon back, holding hands with the man who’d just had her and allowing him to buy her a drink before kissing him off, as casually as if he’d been some hopeful boyfriend, and joining us. Hudson kissed her and put his arm around her waist as she settled on to his lap, full of excitement.

‘I did it!’ she exclaimed. ‘I really did it! He made me dance for him, then go down on his cock, but he couldn’t hold it, and came all over my tits and face! Isn’t that funny!’

Hudson reacted with an indulgent smile and I forced myself to do the same.

‘I’m going to make sure the next one fucks me,’ she went on happily. ‘Do you suppose it’s all right if I ask for a spanking?’

‘I think they’re supposed to pay extra,’ I pointed out.

‘Oh, right … ,’ she answered. ‘Maybe if you did me we’d get some attention?’

‘Suits me,’ Hudson said, and the next instant he’d flipped her across his knee.

She went down with a delighted shriek, giggling and kicking her feet. Hudson curled an arm around her, lifting her easily to pop the button on her jeans shorts. I moved along the seat a little to give them some room, watching as Jemima’s shorts were hauled down to show off her perfect little bottom, already lifted to expose the tiny pink star of her bumhole.

‘He’s going to spank her!’ one of the girls squealed, plainly enjoying the idea, and they began to cluster round.

Hudson made a brief adjustment to Jemima’s top to make sure her breasts showed and began to spank, his huge hand cupping her tiny bottom. She took it giggling and squirming, plainly enjoying herself, although it was quite hard and her bottom was soon pink. Everybody in the room was watching and enjoying the view, the girls as much as the men. I could tell it wasn’t something that happened often, and they seemed to regard it as a treat, clapping and cheering when Jemima was finally allowed up from Hudson’s lap.

She gave a little curtsy, then turned to show off her red bum before wiggling herself back into her shorts. Men began to come forward immediately, offering her drinks, congratulating Hudson on disciplining her, one even suggesting that I should be given the same treatment. I declined politely, determined to keep myself clean just for once. I knew from long experience that once I had a hot bottom I’d be lost.

Ron and Doll had some sort of booking system, rather like old-fashioned dance cards only for sex, and Jemima soon had a queue. A huge black man in a bottle-green suit was first, and he simply picked her up over his shoulder and carried her out of the room with her bum cheeks sticking up out of her shorts and her legs waving wildly in mock alarm. He took his time with her, and she came back looking flustered but still smiling, throwing me a quick glance and making a gesture with her hands to indicate the size of his cock before the next man on her list joined her.

Two men had now had her, the second presumably up her pussy, unless he too had been unable to hold back long enough. It was too late, the damage was done, and I resigned myself to the situation, because I had no choice. She was happy anyway, fulfilling a long-term fantasy, and it wasn’t as if she was going to be a regular there, or so I told myself. More importantly, she wasn’t going to be on film or on the net.

Ron came over to ask Hudson if he’d like a girl on the house and he accepted, choosing the black girl with the huge afro. I was left alone, watching the men and the girls pair off, leave and return. If it was a typical night, Ron was obviously making a lot of money, and he certainly seemed to attract wealthy clients. Another group of men had just come in, all black, led by a young man with dreadlocks and an extravagantly tailored suit in scarlet silk. The others seemed to be his
entourage
, two huge men who were presumably bodyguards and five others.

Ron went to them immediately, fussing round them as if they were royalty, first clearing a table and then lining up all the girls who were in the room at that moment, even those who’d been talking to men. The man in the silk suit sat down, tugging gently at the ridiculous little goatee beard he wore as he considered what was on offer. He didn’t seem too impressed, his mouth remaining fixed in a straight line as he let his gaze linger on the line of girls, only to break into a smile as he saw me, revealing a gold front tooth with a diamond set in it.

‘Her,’ he said simply. ‘The rest are ho’s.’

‘We are a whorehouse, Mr Sixclip,’ Ron pointed out, grinning, ‘and I’m afraid Penny is just a visitor, but her friend—’

‘I’ll have her,’ the man repeated, and one of his companions beckoned to me, urgently, as if I’d committed some dreadful
faux pas
by not rushing over immediately.

‘I’m not available, I’m afraid,’ I said. ‘Sorry.’

He got up, very slowly as a buzz of excited conversation ran among his followers, as if they couldn’t believe I’d refused. I stayed as I was, scared, but determined to hold my own. He was over six foot and well built, towering over me as he reached my table, but he seemed slight in comparison to the two vast bodyguards who’d come up behind him.

‘All girls are available,’ he said, ‘to me.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I repeated, ‘but I don’t work here.’

‘So?’ he demanded. ‘I want you.’

‘I’m sorry, but I’m not available,’ I insisted, ‘and I can’t imagine why you would want me anyway. There are some beautiful girls here—’

‘They’re ho’s,’ he interrupted.

‘As Ron says, this is a brothel, what do you expect?’

‘A nice clean girl, not some skanky ho.’

I could see the girls beyond him, and they did not look too happy.

‘That’s not a very nice thing to say,’ I began, intending to point out that as a customer he had no right to criticise the girls, but I broke off as he tossed something on to the table in front of me.

It was a sheaf of notes, held together by a gold money clip.

‘Five hundred,’ he said.

‘You don’t understand, Mr … er, Mr Sexclip …’

‘Sixclip,’ one of the bodyguards corrected me.

‘Sorry, Mr Sixclip. You don’t understand. I’m not available.’

‘All girls are available,’ he repeated, and drew a second clip of notes from his inside pocket, which he tossed down with the first. ‘A thousand.’

‘Look, Mr Sixclip, it doesn’t matter how much you offer me. I’m not available.’

‘There ain’t a girl been born ain’t a ho at heart,’ he said. ‘Would you take a million?’

‘I’m not completely naïve,’ I told him.

‘What say?’

‘I’m not completely naïve. You expect me to say I’d accept a million dollars, which you’d then say proves that I’m a prostitute at heart but I’m just haggling over the price. I think I was about twelve when I first heard that joke.’