Dolly's Day Off

Charles could tell she was a whore right away.  Nice girls didn’t respond that quick, even if they were wild.  He’d never actually been to a real whore himself, but he’d read about them and considered himself quite the sophisticate.  It wasn’t the first time he'd managed to lure a girl into the manikin storage room at Sweeger’s department store, however.  Charles had happily discovered that sometimes the sight of a good-looking young man arranging the limbs and adjusting the clothing of the female manikins turned a gal on.  It was a sweet little extra benefit of the job.  But to get hold of a pro, for free?  This was his lucky day.

While adjusting the garters on a blonde, So Moderne II manikin in the Young Miss department, he felt someone watching him and glanced over at a sweet little brunette browsing through blouses.  She was staring at him boldly over the top of the blouse rack, and she looked like a very fun girl.  He pulled the manikin’s skirt up higher and ran his hand up the leg to smooth the stocking.  The brunette smiled like a bad child and moved over past the end of the blouse rack where he could see her and hiked up her own skirt mimicking his gesture.  He smoothed the manikin's sweater over its hard-molded breasts with a sly grin.  She gave her own breasts a cute little squeeze and winked at him.  He gave her "the eye," a look he'd perfected in the mirror at the onset of puberty and ran his fingers across the manikin’s crotch in an unmistakable gesture.  It was a risky move, but it paid off.

“You sure know your way around women’s undergarments, young man…” she said sweetly.

“Well, I get lots of practice… in my line of work, miss,” he answered, flashing his most irresistible smile.

In the back of the storage room, she was kissing him with an enthusiasm that he found very encouraging.  She undid his pants with one hand and deftly navigated.  He grinned.  “You sure know your way around men’s undergarments, young lady…” he said.  They giggled.

She glanced around at the manikins in pieces on shelves and standing in rows, naked.  They seemed to watch the couple with dull interest.  “I’ve never had such an audience.  It makes me feel like showin’ off,” she purred in his ear.

Sudden voices outside the storeroom door sent them both into an unwilling imitation of the manikins around them.  Their eyes met and laughter threatened, but the moment passed and he held her tight, whispering in her ear, “Should I go on calling you miss, or you gonna tell me your name?”

“It’s Dolly,” she whispered back.

He laughed.  “You’re joking, right?”

She laughed too, shaking her head.  “It is, I swear!”

“Well, darlin’ that is just too much… I finally got my living doll.”

"Well, what's your name?" She asked.

"It's Charles."  He grinned, "Well, I go by Charles, but my first name is John."

She collapsed against him in stifled laughter, then looked up at him shaking her head. "I do believe we were made for each other," she whispered softly.

He tried to move the lipstick smeared around her mouth back onto her lips with a playful finger.  “My shift was almost over.  I don’t think anybody would notice if I disappeared,” he whispered beneath raised eyebrows.

“You got someplace we can go, sugar?” she asked hopefully.

He frowned.  “I live in a young men’s Christian boarding house.  We got a old lady in a rocker with a Bible and a fist full o' knittin' needles on the front porch, and a old man with a Bible and a shotgun on the back porch.”  He shook his head firmly.

She bit her lip and considered a minute.  “Well, I live in a similar situation.  But today is everybody’s day off.  We might get away with it if you promise to be quiet…”

His awe at being smuggled into an honest-to-God whorehouse was considerable.  But as they'd managed to procure and consume two bottles of beer in between Sweeger’s department store and Dolly’s room at the Shy Violet, he had an immediate need.  “Where’s your little boy’s room, darlin’?  I gotta pee me a river…” he whispered.

She pointed to a door hung with a rainbow of feather boas from the dressing table, where she stood removing her dangly earrings.  He stared in mock amazement, “We do not have private baths in our rooms at the Young Men’s Christian boardinghouse.”

She smirked.  “Don’t keep me waitin’ too long, sugar.”

He stumbled over a tiny satin footstool on his way across the room and they both laughed like children.

He opened the door, still giggling, turning his face away from the cloying boas, then jumped back screaming, “Holy Jesus Christ Almighty!”

Dolly whirled around from her dressing table and crossed the room, crashing into him as he flew away from the bathroom doorway.  She whispered urgently, “Don’t scream like that, you’ll get us…” and then stopped short staring into the bathroom.

The girl was hanging; knees hooked over the shower curtain rod, trussed up like a pig in a slaughterhouse.  Her throat had been gashed to drain her blood.  Her lower belly had been sliced open and the slack bloody folds of flesh looked disarranged.  Her face was purple.  The bathroom was awash in red.

Dolly’s voice could only come out on exhale, gasping gibberish until she managed to say the girl’s name.  “Hillary… that’s my… that’s Hillary!”

Charles sat down on the floor involuntarily and began scrambling backwards like a crab toward the door.  Dolly ran over him and grabbed for the air in front of the doorknob.  “I gotta get Violet, she’ll know what to do, Vie!  Mama Vie!  Help!” she wailed and grabbed hold of the knob.

The door flew open forcefully, throwing her back on the floor next to Charles.  Six foot, six inches, 280 pounds of coiffed, bejeweled, and silk-clad madam filled the doorway.

Mama Violet took one look through the bathroom doorway, one look at Dolly, one look at Charles.  Without a word she pulled a small pearl-handled revolver out of the folds of her gown and expertly shot first Charles, then Dolly clean in the middle of their foreheads.

“Son of a fucking bitch!” she hissed, as she crossed the room and stepped out into the hall to a phone.  She dialed a number, seething while it rang.

The number answered.  She did not say hello.  She growled into the receiver, “Never, never, are they to be done in my house!  He is out of control and I will not have it!”

She paced, listening to half a sentence.  “There are seven girls due back in the next three hours from their day off.  You get someone here to help me clean up this mess right now!  I’ve got three... problems to dispose of and that carny cock waste cost me one of my top earners, in addition to the green girl!”  Sweat ran down the sides of her cheeks, leaving white streaks through her rouge as she listened to a response that didn’t placate her nearly enough.

“You’re damn right you’ll pay for her too, and much more besides!”  She slammed down the phone and stepped back into the room, blowing out her breath in bursts like a steam engine while she stomped around furiously.

Dolly and Charles lay tangled on the floor together, staring up with the same dull interest as the manikins had, and just as dead.

Not A Virgin

Romeo turned off the truck's engine in the driveway of the big white house on 9th Street in San Angelo.  He stole a glance at Slappy and tried not to grimace.  Ah, Christ, he thought, he's got a hell of a shiner coming up.  He felt guilty for losing his temper and hitting the boy, then felt resentful that he'd been driven to it by his stupid mouth.  They had fought three times that day, if he didn't count the endless bickering.  The kid would just start to behave himself and show the faint beginnings of a likable personality, then without warning he would bust out with some totally irritating behavior that would incite Romeo's anger.  The more he tried to be easygoing and not take the bait, the more the kid needled him.  

He hoped the truce they'd finally struck would last.  The thought of living out in the middle of nowhere with a teenager whose daily goal was to create conflict just made him feel tired.  Then he noticed something that brought him a small measure of satisfaction–– the kid was scared.  He was all big eyes and restless hands as he peered out the window at the small, neat sign over the porch that read: Shy Violet Ladies' Boarding House.

He pulled the truck around the back and shut off the engine, grinning at Slappy, his guilt evaporated.  "Here we are, lambchop.  Your first honest to God whorehouse."

Slappy scowled at him, "I told you, it's not my first time.  I been to plenty of cathouses back home."

"So you've said,"  Romeo nodded, grinning wider.

Slappy waited in the truck while Romeo went up and made enquiries.  He spoke to a willowy black-haired woman in a pair of pink sun shorts and a white halter top for a moment, then motioned over his shoulder for Slappy to come on up.  The woman pinched Slappy's cheek when he walked past her and said, "We don't mind the young ones here, we like 'em tender..." and she laughed at Slappy's furious expression.  She led them to an over-fluffed sitting room done up in too many shades of purple and left them to wait.

Madame Violet swept into the room a short time later, resplendent in a pale blue summer gown that left far less to the imagination than Romeo would have preferred.  She wore high white shoes and her platinum blonde hair was piled up on top of her head, bringing her height to somewhere around seven feet, Romeo guessed.  When she walked toward them beneath the ceiling fan, he winced, imagining the possibilities.  He'd never taken such a deep and instant disliking to anyone.  After he'd left that first time, he thought he'd get over it, but he hadn't.  He wondered if she'd ever worked the carnival circuit...

"Evenin', gentlemen, y'all here for the early bird special?  It's barely past supper time," she drawled.

She smiled through blazing pink lipstick and fluttered frightening creature-like artificial eyelashes.  One of them would have been big enough to serve as a mustache for Slappy.

"Good evening, Madame Violet.  As a matter of fact, we are here for the early bird special, this early bird right here," Romeo said, as he squeezed Slappy's shoulder and gave him a playful shake.

He turned to give Slappy a smile and saw that he had gone from scared to terror-struck.  He stared up at Madame Violet with huge eyes in a pale face and was breathing shallowly through his mouth.

Oh, little brother, time to pay you back for the last couple of days, Romeo thought wickedly.

"I'd like to throw a little coming-out party for my young friend here, and I just know that you are the best choice to introduce him to manhood.  Would you be kind enough to take on his education yourself?"  He winked at her and was gratified to see a gleam of fun in her eyes instead of offense.

"This adorable little morsel?" Before either one of them knew what she was about, she swooped Slappy up in her arms and rolled him into her lap like a toddler as she sat down on the lavender damask settee next to Romeo.

"Why, I'd be delighted to be the first to open his box of bonbons," she gushed lasciviously as she planted a big wet smooch on his cheek, leaving a lipstick print bigger than his ear.  Slappy was panting through a grimace of pure panic.

Oh, sweet Christ, I hope he doesn't piss himself in her lap, Romeo thought, barely able to keep a straight face.  "You are so kind, Madame Violet."

"Aww, it's not kindness." She ran a huge bejeweled hand up Slappy's leg, fondled his crotch, and whispered loudly into his ear, "It's lust for virgins... they're my favorite dish."

Slappy leaped straight up into the air, vaulting out of her lap. "It's not my first time!" he squealed, backing away until he ran up against the wall next to a potted palm.  "I, I wouldn't want to disappoint you under false pretexts, I'm practically a whore myself," he blabbered.

Madame Violet turned to Romeo in mock shock, "Not a virgin?" She stood up and in two giant strides was looming over him again.  She petted his newly shorn head.  The cavern in the middle of her large, thrusting bosom threatened to swallow his face.

"Well, I am truly disappointed, young man."

She reached down and swiftly grabbed hold of his package, lifting him up against the wall until he was eye level with her.  He let out a strangled groan as his balls compressed against her hand.

"I could have shown you what these toys were made for..." she growled, "but I just don't have any interest in used goods."  She slapped his cheek playfully and let go, allowing him to slide down the wall.  He looked like he was going to faint.

"I am so sorry, Madame Violet, my mistake.  I must have misunderstood.  Could you take him to the viewing room and show him someone appropriate for his level of experience?"  Romeo said, trying to hold back a laugh and failing.

"Indeed I can, there are any number of sweet, willing ladies awaiting your pleasure, young man, follow me." She smiled an evil smile at Romeo and stepped out into the hallway.  At that moment, he almost liked her for playing along.

Slappy glanced back at Romeo, still shellshocked and uncertain as he stepped away from the wall.  When he met Romeo's eye, Romeo burst into laughter.  Slappy hesitated as understanding dawned.  He narrowed his eyes and nodded, "That's two I owe you," he hissed as he turned to follow Madame Violet.  Romeo rolled over onto the settee and howled with laughter.    

Update on Friday, July 22, 2011 at 11:05AM by Pamila Payne

Where's Dolly?

"I'll pay extra for that," Romeo said, grinning as Violet came back into the room. "Thanks for playing along."

"Oh, not at all.  I do enjoy virgins, just not that kind," she said inscrutably.  Romeo did not want to know what kind she meant.

She chuckled, "I had you figured wrong, I thought you were a stick in the mud last time you came here."

He shook his head adamantly, "Oh you had me figured just right.  I am a stick in the mud, I just owed that kid some grief.  You know, of course, that he is most definitely a virgin?"

"Never fear, he'll be in capable cherry pickin' hands with Laurabelle – that is, if he doesn't lose his load gawkin' at her through the mirror.  She puts on a nice little show."
 
She draped herself delicately over a mauve velvet chair, pulled a lacy fan out of her pocket and began to fan her face lightly, smiling at him.  "And what can I do for you this evening?"

Romeo shrugged.  "I'd be happy to see Dolly again."
 
She tsked, and shook her head.  "I'm sorry to disappoint you, she's no longer under my employ."  She went on fanning herself, her face completely neutral.

Romeo was disappointed.  "Huh.  That's too bad, she was okay.  She quit?"

Madame Violet shrugged, "These girls are all flighty, it's just their nature.  If they were solid and steady, they'd have husbands and tidy little houses on the other side of town."

Romeo watched her eyes with a growing feeling of unease, he wasn't sure why, but he felt like she was lying.

"Do you know where she went?"

She closed her fan slowly and rose to her feet without concern.  "One day she was here, the next day she was gone, and everything she owned along with her.  As well as a few things she didn't own, I might add."

She sauntered toward the hallway. "I'll just go set your little friend up with Laurabelle, and then you can take a peek at the other girls.  I'm sure you can find one to make do with, seeing as your tastes are so straightforward."
 
Her words had their intended effect, and Romeo was left feeling embarrassment at the idea that he'd been... what?  Tattled on?  Exposed?  He found himself suddenly angry with Dolly, he'd assumed he could trust that he wouldn't be talked about.  The whole thing left a bad taste in his mouth, and he decided to tell Violet to forget it when she came back.  He'd just wait for Slappy and drive them back to the motel.  He was no longer in the mood.