Authors: Jane Prescott
The woman scoffed, “That’s being kind.”
“You might be hot and sweaty... and pardon me for saying, but a tad smelly...”
“I have been walking in this sun looking for work, without the means to wash.”
“I know, I know. Let me finish. I was going to say that, despite this, you’re still a very pretty little thing.”
The woman gushed, as if she didn’t know what to think of Maggie’s compliment. “I think I ought to say thank you.”
“I could offer you a bed, good money and safe place to work.”
“Work?”
“Yes.” Maggie’s wise eyes spoke the words that her mouth didn’t “Lots of work.”
“You’re asking me to... sell myself?”
“Gets you out of the mission. Earns you a good living.” Maggie leaned forward. “But most importantly gets you your ticket out of here and straight back to Philadelphia.”
The woman took a step backward, as she appeared ready to run away. “What do you think I am?”
“A desperate woman.”
“I am. But... still? You should be ashamed of yourself. You’re merely trying to take advantage of me. A wicked witch of the night.”
Maggie didn’t fluster or panic. “You’re not the first person to tell me that. Like you, most people would frown at a woman like me.” Her experienced eyes remained fixed like a wolf while tracking its prey. “But let me tell you this... Far from destroying lives I have in fact saved countless women.”
“How?”
“I’m not saying it is an ideal profession to be in, nor an easy one. I would not wish my daughter to wind up living from a bedroom. But what I do is save them from working the streets alone... fending for themselves, making unwise decisions, and befriending those who will abuse them until they are but empty sacks tainted meat.”
“Merely the thought is enough to make me shiver.”
“You see. What I do is give them the option of making this lesser evil. Offering them my guidance and security.”
The woman shook her head. “There is always an option other than selling yourself. No woman should have to do such a thing.”
“If you have one. Then why are you drifting through these streets like tumbleweed? If you don’t work for me, God knows what will happen to you.”
“I will find another option. Don’t you worry about that.”
Maggie had recruited women of all backgrounds and she remained confident of landing this one. “Now, it’s up to you... do you want to take this option. Do you want to work for me, or go back to the mission with the beggars and thieves, the drunks and scoundrels?
“But will your house be any different?”
“Of course, my dear.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Maggie’s voice carried authority. “I take no messin' from anyone. Any man demands anything which you’re not willin' to give... all you have to do is press the service bell, and Big Francis will come ‘a knockin’'.” She nodded as she recalled some of her memories. “God is my witness, he scares the shit out every man in this town.”
“But I am a good Christian girl... I have been educated.”
“You will earn your ticket home in no time... and be back to living the life you want.”
The woman’s whisper was barely audible. “I fear I have no choice.”
“Your name?”
“Janice... Janice Cooper.”
“I’m Maggie McCarthy. “ Hanging her arm around Janice’s neck, she walked her to the saloon. “Janice, you can have a quiet room for the night... sleep on your decision and tell me in the morning.”
“You work from the saloon?”
“From the rooms above. I own the building with my husband... Francis.”
~
Janice knocked on the frosted glass window of the office door. Once Maggie asked her to enter, Janice opened the door. She stepped into the office which was dimly lit and misted with tobacco smoke. Staring into Maggie’s eyes, Janice coldly stated, “Before I make the decision. I need to know what kinda money I be earning.”
“Every dollar you earn is yours. All I charge is a fee for your room.”
“And...” Janice closed her eyes as she feared the answer to her following question. “What do I am expected to do?”
“Do what comes natural.”
“I don’t really follow.”
Maggie took off her spectacles and closed the heavy ledger. “Well, do you know how to please a man?”
“I like to think so? But... I have only... you know...”
“You have to be frank in the business, Missy.”
Janice felt her confidence melt like snow in the rain. “What do you mean by frank?”
“Well in this world. A cock doesn’t have a pair of wings or live in coop, and when we talk about pussy, we’re not talking about the ginger tomcat that just shit in your front yard.”
“Then I guess teats are that the ones you find on the end of a pacifier.”
“Almost right.” Maggie placed her rolled cigarette between her thin lips. “But...” She then struck a match before lighting the end of her cigarette. “I think you mean tits... With a heavy set like yours men will be sucking on ‘em like a half starved child.”
“Oh my... I have never dreamt of such a thing.”
“A girl will have to get used to this and more.”
“I feel like a lost lamb in a field of foxes. “Janice’s voice quivered like a scorned child. “But I‘m not sure if I can find my inner...”
“Inner whore?”
“I was going to say inner demon.”
“Don’t forget what I told you a few moments ago.” Maggie drew back on her cigarette, before expelling a toxic cloud as if she was a smoke stack “In this game a cock is a co...”
“OK, I got it. Bloody hell.”
“Every girl has the potential to be a whore... we’re born with the tools of the trade, after all. We just have to practice our art if we want to become masters.”
“You’re still not helping me.”
Janice stubbed out her cigarette. “Look.” She then leaned back in her chair. “As daft as it sounds. You just have to be yourself... but at the same time lose your inhibition.”
“But how can you do that? I’m naturally an introvert.”
“Shy women are quite popular, makes men feel like they’re soiling the innocent.”
“But I feel uncomfortable if I’m asked to sing in the choir, or even more so if someone spots me while I’m paddling in the summer.”
“My dear... you’re going to be doing a lot more than paddling.” With a fresh cigarette wedged between her lips, Maggie stood from her chair. “When I say be yourself. I mean, act as if what you’re doing is natural. “She stood beside Janice and admired her. “You have to please.” With her bony finger raised she brushed it along Janice’s skin... feeling her tremble. “Nah, nah. Don’t go all rigid and frigid now.”
“I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Just think of Philadelphia. We’ll get you back all safe and sound. Just a wiser woman... that’s all.”
“Wiser? Broken would be more appropriate.” Janice wasn’t sure if it was the stress or the tobacco smoke that caused her eyes to burn. “Philadelphia can’t come quick enough.”
“Your hard work will pay off.”
“I intend to work my bottom off.”
“You see..? That’s the inner whore I was talking about... Sodomy is a sure way bringing in the dollars. You have a head for business.”
“Good Lord” I just meant...” Janice hung her head. Now I’m really scared.”
“There is a reason why I recommend a girl develops a healthy taste of scotch. Dulls the pain and dampens the fear.”
“But I hate the taste.”
“It’s better than the taste of...”
“OK, I got it.” Janice slumped her shoulders. She felt that she was becoming everything she hated. “Maybe a little pre work tipple wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
“Liquor and dollar bills and what’s more... not all the men are horrible. You never know, you might find your prince charming among them.”
“I feel dead.”
“Far from it!” There was not a trace of doubt in Maggie’s expression. “You’re alive.”
“How is selling myself... a life?”
“By not relying on a husband or parents.”
“What’s wrong with a bit of parental support?”
“You’re being independent. Doing things yourself. “Janice leaned towards a lit match so she could light the cigarette. “You’re suffering now for a better future. That’s what life is all about... Not doing so would merely be existing under someone else’s influence. ” Maggie smiled, and then rested her hand on Janice’s back. “There is a good group of girls here. I suggest you get to know them before you go about claiming to be walking dead. We do in fact have a decent clientele too.”
“What decent man would frequent an establishment such as this one?”
“You’ll be surprised... we have men from all walks of life. And I mean all walks. ” Maggie banged on the wall. “Chantelle, are you free?”
“Yeah. Just tidying myself up. Why?”
“Get yourself in here? I got a newbie in here. Come and introduce yourself, girl.”
“A fresher! Great. I’m coming.”
Maggie turned back to face Janice. “I’m putting you in the room opposite Chantelle. Have done it for good reason too.” Her face appeared full of pride. “She’s my most experienced girl. Four years on the job, meaning she’s seen and done it all.” She tapped Janice’s hand. “I know for sure that she’ll keep an eye on you.”
The door flung open and rattled against the wall. A tall buxom blonde stood in the doorway. Clearly brimming with confidence, her long legs strode into the room wearing a velvet knee-length gown while smoking a cigarette. Her face appeared porcelain and her lips caked in seductive red lipstick. “Howdy. I’m Chantelle.”
“Hi.”
“Now, aren’t you a looker..? You’ll have men pawing at you like hungry puppies.”
“I... ”Janice sighed. “I can’t wait.”
“No need to look glum. I remember my first day on the job. I could hardly breathe... let alone work.”
“Oh.”
“But believe me.” Chantelle sat on the desk, seemingly not worried about the fact her breast had broken free of her gown. “After a few nights... possibly a week at the most. You’ll be hopping from cock to cock as if you were scared of missing out on one.”
“God... have mercy.” Janice glanced at Maggie who just smiled. Clearly Maggie had heard it all before... and more. Janice shook her head. “My ears feel like they’re on fire after such language.”
Chantelle chuckled while picking her blood red nails. “They won’t be the only orifices burning.” She then spoke with a motherly tone as she stared at Maggie. “We’ll have to make sure she has some Vaseline. Don’t want her suffering from a training rash.”
“Yeah... I’ll get her a tub from downstairs.”
Janice groaned. “Talk about slippery slopes”
“Vaseline is a girl’s best friend.” Maggie turned to Chantelle. “Can you explain to the poor girl what it’s like working here? Put her worried mind at ease. Tell about the clientele.”
“There are all sorts of characters. Like, Pervert Bill.”
“He’s no problem at all.”
Giggling, Chantelle slapped Janice’s shoulder while she told her story, “Bill just stands in the cupboard for hours.”
Janice felt confused. “Where is the joy, standing in a dark cupboard all evening?”
“Well, he stares through a peephole, wanking away while I go through the motions with my clients. Been a regular for years, but never touched me other than to shake my hand with his sticky fingers.”
“Ewe.”
Maggie leaned across to rearrange Chantelle’s robe to cover her breast. “Tell her about Cranky Wanky.”
“Old Cranky likes me to dress as a judge... he’s a lawyer, you see.”
“A lawyer?” Janice widened her eyes. “You have a man of the law as a client?”
“Of course. He brings me a judge’s wig and robe to wear. The routine is always the same. Gets naked before climbing on the bed. Then pleasures himself while listening to me read a script which he has prepared. I don’t think I’ve ever passed judgment before he’s emptied himself.”
“That’s rather... strange.”
“You think that’s strange? There’s Windy Willy.”
Maggie interrupted the pair with her laughter. “Oh, Windy Willy is something else.”
“Windy Willy pays me just to break wind.”
Janice scoffed, “Disgusting.”
“Easy money though. We have dinner together, always beans and fried eggs of course. Then after twenty minutes I’m blowing like a winter gale.”
Maggie chuckled. “We always open the windows when Windy comes to town.”
“Windy is my favorite though, quite handsome for a pervert. He’s busy on weekends with his family. But always keeps me company two or three evenings during the week.”
“So.” Maggie slapped Janice knee. “What do you say? Are you on board?”
“Yes.” Janice let out a nervous laugh. “Yes I am.”
~
Dressed in a lace-up bodice encrusted with small silver grommets, Janice’s felt mortified by just how much cleavage she was displaying. Standing in front of a full length mirror, she stepped back to view her lower half. A voluminous double-layered over skirt which was trimmed in hot pink satin ruffles, draped over her legs. Wearing an unsure smile she glanced at an approving Chantelle. “Do I really look OK?”