Thank you all and here is another story about a girl who became a whore in Abilene, Kansas. Her name is Holly and she was one of those gals who'd have kept her youthful looks into old age had she made it to old age. It made her very desirable to a certain type of men--men who like to have their way with little girls.
Holly was twenty-years-old but she looked like she was hardly past thirteen or fourteen. She wore the dresses of little girls and her strawberry-blonde hair in pig-tails to attract the attention of men who wanted to spank a naughty little girl. Her bosoms were small and she said those men liked to suck on 'em and tell her it would make 'em bigger.
Murray always had clients lined up to fill her nights and days. Men came from all over the state to play with the little girl who'd let them spank her behind until it was rosy and then spread her legs and let them fuck her. She could even cry when they wanted her to do so over being spoiled for the first time.
There were those who wanted to take it to extremes sometimes and Murray charged steeply for that as it marked up the merchandise and sometimes took it off the shelf for days. One afternoon Holly came screaming from her room half naked with red and purple strap marks across her back and legs with the client racing after her and the belt still in his hand.
"Get back here, bitch," the man yelled.
I stepped between the man and the fleeing Holly and tossed the naked girl my dressing gown to cover her body with. "Hey, mister," I said, stopping him, "it looks as though the young lady has had enough of your fun."
He slapped me aside. "I paid fifty dollars to have this whore," he snarled, "and she'll have had enough when I say she's had enough." He leered over at Holly. "And I haven't nearly had enough of the bitch yet," he said, snapping the belt in his hands. "I paid fifty dollars to teach this filthy little whore a lesson and I've yet to accomplish that to my satisfaction," he yelled, reaching for the whimpering Holly whose eyes had gone wide.
"You paid Murray fifty dollars to strap me?" she gasped as Murray emerged from his office to investigate the disturbance.
"What the hell is going on out here?" the fat little pimp yelled as more women gathered around Holly.
"This whore refuses to finish our session, sir," the man with the belt snapped.
"Holly, get your ass back up those stairs and give the man what he paid for," Murray snarled and pointed a pudgy finger toward Holly's room.
Myrna, the oldest of the women in Murray's stable pulled down the dressing gown from Holly's back to reveal the criss-crossed purple bruises welling up on her tender skin. "I think he's gotten his fifty dollars worth, Murray," she said in a matronly tone of warning to the pudgy little man.
Murray turned his attention back to the man with the belt. "I can see you whipped her, sir," he said, clearing his throat with a cough. "You fuck her ass too?"
"Once," the man stammered, "but I wanted more yet."
"Then you're done here for today," Murray said and turned back to his office. "Put your belt back on your britches and go home."
The man's face darkened and he used his belt to lash out at me, push me aside, and grab Holly from Myrna's arms. Holly screamed when he grabbed a pigtail and yanked. "Come on, whore," he said, "we're not done by a long shot and all you've done by causing this little scene is make me angry and you won't like me when I'm angry." He scanned the patrons at the bar below. "Thomas," he called, "get up here, I'm going to require your assistance with this one."
The man turned and straightened up to his full six-and a half feet and strode up the stairs, flexing his massive fists with a broad smile on his scarred and ugly face. "Sure, boss," he called after the man as he pushed me aside, "I'll be right there." He grinned at me. "If you or any the rest of your filthy ilk would like to join us," he sneered as he squeezed his crotch, "I'd be happy to accommodate ya."
The two men dragged Holly into her room but left the door open so the rest of us could see the punishment they gave poor Holly. The man with the belt directed and the big man followed through. He ripped my dressing gown from her body and threw it into the hall while the older man swung his belt and Holly screamed with every stinging lash.
When he tired, the big man took over and used his fists. They both fucked her in her ass and her mouth, covering her bruised and swollen face with their seed as they laughed. When the men finally left her room, Holly was hardly breathing and the man with the belt dropped a quarter on her belly, laughing, "I suppose you're worth at least that much of a tip, whore."
Holly didn't live through the night and died with all the whores at Murray's around her bedside. Did the two men pay for their crime? Not in the legal sense I'd reckon as whores aren't looked at as people and most think the bastards did Abilene a service by ridding its streets of more filth. But there is a whore grapevine of sorts and word travels along it like they travel along the wires of a telegraph. That fellow from Hays and his driver burned up in a barn fire some months later while visiting a brothel in Ellsworth and nobody ever figured out how the barn doors got locked or how all the hay in the loft caught fire.