Princess Babydoll opens up wide.

Wednesday October the 8th. When I woke up I thought at first we're back at the hotel for the party. It was all dark. The bed felt the same. I was face down on my belly. Doll had her arm over my shoulders. sisi was sleeping with her head on my back hugging my ass together. I wanted her to kiss me so bad. I needed to pee even worse. It felt like it is coming out, one way or another. I tried to wiggle out but of course I woke them up. Doll said "oh, Babydoll" and sisi sighed and kissed me kinda on the side as I was getting up. The bathroom of course is not where it was in the hotel, because this is a different suite. It doesn't have a jacuzzi in the livingroom, either. But it also has a living room and two bedrooms. dogslave slept by herself in the other one. It was too cramped, and they told me she said "she'll be out of it all night anyway", meaning me.

When I was back they weren't sleepy anymore although it was very early and it wasn't even morning yet! Doll told me they made me drink a lot of water after putting me in bed, and that is why I had to pee so bad. I asked them how did they make me drink a lot of water ? Doll said she kissed it into me, and sisi said Doll just took a big gulp of water and then she held my head up sorta and Doll kissed my mouth and with her tongue made me drink it. I asked Doll why she did that, and she said because I drank a lot of wine, and when people drink alcohol they have to drink enough water before going to bed so they don't feel bad afterwards. But I was feeling pretty crummy anyway, and I told her, but she said "I told you not to drink it in the first place, Babydoll!" and I said I was so upset. She asked me if it was because of what the man said to me and I told her "Yes Doll! Why does he hate me so much!" but she said silly, he doesn't hate you. He's just afraid of you is all. But I asked her, how can the owner of this whole place be afraid of me ?! And she said that's exactly it, he has something to lose. I asked her what does she mean, and she said "If he was just some guy, not the owner of this place, would we be here ?" and I said not really, and she said "See Babydoll, he doesn't want to be just some guy, he wants to be himself, the owner guy". And then she said it really bothered him that I let him squeeze my throat like that, because it proves I don't have anything to lose, and that means I'm very powerful, because nobody can control me, because that's how you control people, by holding hostage what they don't want to lose. Then she said men's bodies are made to make them slaves, because their balls are outside their body, and you can grab hold of them easy, but that they hate it, and over time it makes them so afraid of their body betraying them... and she said that when a man and a woman really love each other very much, but not just Platonic but with great passion, then they almost make together one body, and the man is especially afraid of the part of his body that used to be the woman betraying him, because to him it's just like a bigger ballsac! And she explained that things don't usually work out for people, the deck is just stacked against them, like at the casino. The longer you live, the more things you try and the more things don't work out. So people don't expect the best, especially old people. They expect the worst.

I asked her if it is the same with her, and she told me yeah, kinda. I asked her if it's because of her hole, and she said Babydoll, before meeting your Dad and you I had a lot of disappointments. So I said Doll remember when you said "she is not going anywhere", about me ? And she said she remembers it every day. I asked her "What did you expect was going to happen then, Doll ?" and she told me she didn't know. She didn't know how it was going to be like, she just knew she doesn't care what it is, she just doesn't want to go on without me. And I asked "But why, Doll ?" and she said "Because I love you, Babydoll" and I hugged her but really, what does that mean ? Then they told me more things that happened after lunch, apparently I was kinda funny and silly and sisi and dogslave made a lot of jokes with the people and they really had a good time, even if I was so upset. And then they took us here because the place really is a hotel, only it's a very special sort of hotel with a slave dungeon underground and Doll said there's maybe hundreds of rooms and she thinks there are at least a hundred enslaved girls underneath, and maybe even a thousand! She said maybe even more! And she said all sorts of very rich and powerful people come to sleep here just to have sex together and with the slaves, and we're definitely being sold at auction and it will be something else! She said everyone is excited about it, she could tell, and the chef guy said our stunt this morning is extra good publicity, meaning because we went to lunch naked and all the people in that lobby saw us. She said lots of people are asking about us and we are making a big splash!

Talking to Doll and hugging her was making me really really want it, and I especially wanted sisi to kiss me. I turned my head to her and I said "sisi, will you kiss my butthole ?" and she hugged my ass again squeezing hard and said "Oh please Princess! May I ? May I ?" Then both me and Doll explained to her how to do it well, and she told me she had dreamed the whole night about kissing me deep in there. Then Doll got on her back, and I sat on her face and pushed my ass all out and rested my head on her belly. She brought her knees down to her sides so I could hug her better, and kiss her too if I want. I kissed her a little, softly on her bud now and again but I didn't really want to make her have it, I just wanted her to make it for me. She told me later that kissing a girl when you don't want to make her have is called teasing, like for hair, and that some girls like it very much and she especially likes it when I do it to her and she never wants me to stop teasing her bud. sisi came and kissed me right on my hole just once, after Doll had me almost about to have it, but I held it in and sisi came again and kissed me again and again harder and harder and she said "Omg Princess, you're kissing me back! You're kissing my mouth with your butthole Princess!" and then she flicked her tongue inside and it made me just crazy and I held on hard to Doll and bit her on her thigh. sisi just went harder and harder and deeper in me and for some reason put her fingers in next to her mouth although we didn't talk about that and she was pulling me apart like I was going to split open and Doll licked my bud hard and I had it so crazy I thought I would pass out but I didn't, it was like a passing out when you feel it raising inside you in your chest but when you pass out everything turns black but this was like everything turned mirror and I was walking underwater! And my bud got so sensitive and Doll was so hard on it and sisi stretched me out so hard it was crazy! Then it felt like I was landing and they were softer a little but then they went harder and harder again and I put my neck inside Doll's knee and she squeezed me a little between her thigh and her calf but I was pretending it's the man doing it to me and I pulled her leg in tight and made myself pass out for real.

Then they asked how it was and I told them it was the best ever! The best I ever had in my life! And they were really happy. Then sisi went to brush her teeth and I and Doll hugged and she told me she had sold me out to the owner, and I asked her what does she mean and she told me that she told him to come and fuck me in the ass this morning with his cock, to teach me a lesson! I was like "Omg Doll! How could you say that!" and she said "You have to open up, Babydoll. You have to open up and let men inside of your asshole, you have to get used to them pushing themselves into you and welcome them inside of you." Then sisi came back and I asked her "you knew about this ?" and she said "Well Princess... I was there you know" and I said "How could you let her betray me to a man like this!" and she said "But Babydoll... that's what we're for" and I asked her "Would you like to have his penis inside your butt ?!" and she said "He doesn't want me, Princess. He wants you." and I was like hm and Doll said "It's true. He really does." So I asked her "Will it hurt me, Doll ?" and she said yes it will, at first, but it will not be so bad, and that I have to relax and open up real wide and not focus on the pain but focus on making him welcome inside of me. Because sisi is right and that really is what we're for, and a woman that doesn't know how to welcome men in her is the worst kind of broken. But I told her "Doll, I'm not a woman, I'm just a little girl!" and she said we're not in Kansas anymore, and that it's true I'm not a woman yet, but it won't be long for me now. So I said "hm" and I was going to say something, but the door opened and there he was! The owner guy, he was wearing some kind of robe, and Meron was with him too! Only, she was walking behind.

Doll turned around in bed, so her feet were on my ass, and she hugged me with my head in her stomach and said "Come sir, fuck this saucy little tart in the ass." and I felt sisi's hands on my butt opening me up but he said "Let the little whore beg for it" and I turned my head from Doll and looked over my shoulder at him and I said "Please sir. I am sorry about earlier. Please make yourself whole out of me" and Meron took the robe off from his shoulders and I could see his cock. It wasn't as big as in porn and it was kinda weird looking and bent. He asked me "How much dick have you assfucked already, you fuckwitch you!" which is a very weird thing to say, I never heard about a fuckwitch before, I thought that's what witches did anyway. It's like saying soupbowl I guess, what else is a bowl gonna do. But I said "I have never fucked before sir. Only I kissed a man at where the balls are but sisi was sucking his cock, that's all" and he said "What ?!" and Doll said it's true, I've been always with her, she's a virgin. Just like she says, she's seen cock once and it wasn't even pointed at her." The man grunted and then he yelled out "Motherfucker!" and he turned around and grabbed Meron by the hair roughly and forced his cock into her mouth. dogslave came in, she didn't say anything but just waved hello and she hugged doll and kissed my mouth and then rubbed my ass which sisi wasn't holding open anymore and then kissed her on the mouth too. Meron was on her knees gurgling like a broken water pipe, and the man was fucking the hell out of her throat, you could see it bulge as he went in and out. I whispered to Doll "I wonder how she does that" but she whispered back "You'll see, it's not that hard." dogslave went all quiet and sneak behind the man and kneeled down, then she gestured for us to join her. sisi went over too and they put each one hand on his ass at the same time and spread him open and started kissing him in between, first dogslave and then sisi and then dogslave again and then sisi again. He yelled out "aaaaaa!!" and stopped moving Meron's head, but her trhoat was now moving up and down and the man was spazzing out! Then he was done and he just left, like almost running out! Meron was kinda sitting on the side, not really kneeling anymore, and panting. dogslave hugged her and sisi kissed her mouth and then she asked for permission to go and picked up the robe and went out quickly herself. Though with Meron honestly it's just how fast she normally walks, like you have to run to keep up with her walking.

sisi went to brush her teeth again, with dogslave this time, and we made fun of her for being such a anal slut that always eats any ass there is like "oh, maybe it's chocolate ?" but she just looked down and blushed. Then we talked about more things and horsed around but we were really tired so we just kinda took a nap, although the bed was kinda cramped. But I love sleeping with my baes! But I couldn't really sleep, because I was so crazy thinking, with my ass and everything! But then I fell asleep and then later when I woke up everyone was up and sisi was kissing my toes softly one by one. There was a big cart very pretty with statuettes where its parts would be and on the wheels and everywhere, and it had a lot of breakfast things on it, and they told me a different girl from Meron brought it in earlier but she was very shy and they just let her go. We had like real breakfast for the first time since Doll used to make it, and it was very good and they had many things from our place like smoked salmon and parmegiano cheese and olives and things. And eggs, of course, but everyone has eggs. Except the chickens, they don't have any eggs for long, but I mean like, every people.

Then the psych guy came in, but not with the beak mask or anything, just like his normal self, and he was with the new slave but I didn't have any time for her because I had some things to say to him! She went out with the breakfast things and he said "Good morning ladies!" all happy and I spread my legs wide though I can't do it so well as dogslave but with my knees straight and started rubbing my bud a little in my hand but very softly not like to make myself have it and I said to him "We're not ladies, we're whores." And he stuttered and looked away from my bud and said "Oh, of course, I'm sorry Princess whore Babydoll" and Doll asked him to what do we owe the pleasure and he said I saw you were up" and she cut him off and said "On the cameras, right ? You have cameras everywhere ?" and he bowed his head and said "Yes whoredoll." These people are very strange because they keep making words out of words smashed together like that. And they speak kinda funny too, like not like normal people speak. sisi was all shocked and started looking around for the cameras and dogslave got up and started doing like a tiktok thing, which is really easy to do you just do something funny and repetitive for ten bananas. I didn't stop playing with my bud but said "Mr. Head, didn't you say you call everyone whores ?" and he said "Oh Princess, that's just something you say" and I told him I think his job is the worst job in the world, and he asked me how come, and I said because you have to lie to people. And he said "just like a whore, huh" and I was like wtf but Doll said it's a little true, Princess, because remember how I said a woman must swallow anything ? It's because a woman is for making men welcome inside of her, and the thing with men is that they go crazy when they're with a woman, especially inside of her, and they don't talk normal like we do anymore but crazy bullshit and you have to be able to talk with them when they're like that. I stopped playing with my bud and looked up at her, and she explained things like that and the psych said, to Doll, "You're even worse than her!" and Doll said to him "You're just not very good at it." and his face got all red! He said "Esteemed whoreladies, I have a great favour to ask, and let me tell you about your day and schedule first ?"

But I said "No, the favour first, you lie too much." and he said "Oh saint joseph jesus and marry. You're a terrible virgin, Babydoll!" and I asked him if he hates me and he said he doesn't hate me, that it is his priviledge to work with me and he has learned more in two days than in two years of practice. And I said "not you, him" pretending like I meant the owner all along, but it's not really true because first I was asking about him but it's fun to do it like that like when someone answers your question you pretend it was about the other thing so really they're answering both questions but it only counts as one, and also it bothers them. So he asked me what do I mean and I said "You saw him come to me, last night. Didn't you ? And then he fucked Meron and he left. I was all ready to be hurt, inside. I was eager for him, why does he hate me" but he said "He doesn't hate you, Princess. It's just too much, what you were trying to offer him is the most valuable thing, you're like precious jewels with priceless jewels within, he didn't want to take it for himself." and I said "Why not ?" and he said because that is his business, he sells it, he doesn't eat it himself.

I said that is a terrible business and he said "Princess, all business is like that." but I asked him "Why ?" and he said business is like that because men are like that, but I asked him again why! and he said "Men are like that because that's how they were made" and I said "you have to tell me why they were made like that", and he said "Alright princess, I'll tell you. First of all, you start off with a period of thousands and thousands of years, while hungry, and cold, and desperate because you have nothing. Oh, you could have anything, anything you put your mind to, of course -- but it's all overpriced. You can push a rock, if you want to, but the pushing will be harder work than it seemed, and the rock once pushed worth less than it seemed. You can climb up a tree, if you want, but the climbing will be harder to do than you thought it would, and the view from up there not as great as you hoped it would be. You have to find food, and you have to find shelter, and all you have to sustain yourself through the night is a legend, great bearded legend. A story, of a place where everything that's good comes easy, and everything that comes easy is good. The rocks you push in the day, the trees you climb in the sunlight, they're not really yours. You're theirs much more than they're yours ; but at night, when the moon shines and all is quiet, then you are alone with your own brain, and that is who you really are and truly yours. All you have is that little brain, to hold you up and convince you that you are special, even in poverty, even in desperation. This little brain, that is the key, you see. With this little brain, you go out and buy a piece of cloth, cut that cloth in two, and sell the two halves apart, but for a penny more than what you paid for the whole cloth. With this little brain, you go out and buy a piece of clay here, and a piece of clay there, and you smash them together and you sell the bigger piece for a penny more than what you paid for the smaller pieces. So you go back out again, and again, and again, and the pennies add up, but during this whole time you must never succumb to buying yourself a piece of bread or a toy for your child. No, no, you must be hungry and cold and desperate and everyone must be sad, because you must immediately run out, and get yourself a larger piece of cloth to cut apart, and more clumps of clay to smash together. So you repeat this, over and over and over again and suddenly you discover something. You discover that you have no longer any desire to make anything. You still could, maybe, if you tried, but you don't try because you don't want to, not anymore. You're something else, now, something other than what you were before..."

"A pimp" I said, "you are a pimp" and he said yes, that is the word. "He loves me, he just doesn't love me like a whore loves me" I said, but he didn't say anything. I rested my head on Doll's nice pillow of a breast, and said to him, "What favor do you want of me ?" and he said "Princess, we want to make it a part of your terms of sale, of your sale contract, that you may be allowed to come back here if you want, and help us with young whores." I asked him, "Just me, or all of us ?" and he looked at me and opened his mouth and closed it and then said "All of you, Ma'am, if you please." I turned and looked at Doll, and Doll looked back at me, and whispered in my ear "We have to help young girls find themselves too, Babydoll" and I nodded and I said "We have to, don't we Doll. We have to." and then I looked at him and said loudly "This is not a favour that you ask, this is something that we have to do. And we will do it, too, but only on one condition." and he shuddered and said "What is the condition, Princess ?" I held my bud up between my fingers and I said "You must kiss me. Kiss me right here. Kiss me right now." He sunk low in his armchair and was breathing heavily but said nothing. He didn't move. Doll said "This isn't a favour she is asking of you. This is something you must do." He looked up at her, and with a voice like a little boy, strangled and small, he said "Your grace, let me be. I am a trained psychologist, not a venerial gourmet" but Doll said nothing at first, just looked at him, and then after a little "You have a responsibility to those future little girls, just like we do. Come do what you must do." He said "It's something I may not do. By the rules of..." but I cut him off. "That's why I ask you to. Do what you must, not what you may." and Doll said "Princess is right, if you are not willing and capable of breaching your rules, any rules, we will not come here. We will go somewhere, some place else, but it will not be here." He crawled on the floor all the way to our bed, and lifted himself, his head between my legs, and kissed me softy, very softly, with dry lips. And then he ran away. sisi was giggling and dogslave too, but I said "Fuck, what about our schedule now!" and Doll said "Oh no!"

I turned on her so we were facing each other and I whispered at her through my teeth "This is all your fault, slutty Doll! All you ever want to do is whore me out, to men, to fuck me and do things to me! Now look what you have done, we don't even have a schedule for today!" and she was begging forgiveness but I was on her tickling her and saying things like that to her and dogslave piled on and joined and we were both tickling doll but sisi was kissing our feet and begging us to please let her go, she didn't do anything. So then I turned to dogslave and I said "you know, that shy silly slut is probably right, it's not Doll's fault" so we stopped, and then I yelled out "It's sisi's fault! It was sisi's fault all along!" and we jumped on her but she escaped so we had to chase her around the room but eventually we caught up with her behind a curtain and we tickled her real bad! And then the chef came in! He said "Good morning whore patch!" and we all turned to him and then I went down on my knees and they all did too and we said together "Good morning chef sir!" all long like.

He sat down in the armchair by the door facing us and there were two other slaves with him that kneeled on either side and it was very strange because they had clothes on, but weren't wearing them, but just held on to them to their side. And they were very pretty but I think older and they were kneeling like Meron but we hadn't drilled it at all because we had no time so we were just kneeling like normal kneeling with your knees together which is stupid because you aren't showing anything. So I spread my legs like them too and Doll did it immediately and dogslave also but sisi didn't so dogslave elbowed her and she said Ow and then dogslave gave her a look and she caught on. It was kinda embarassing so I said "Aren't you going to introduce your slaves, sir ?" and he said No. Then he said "You've made a lot of trouble, you know that ?" and I said "We're just good little whores, sir. We're obedient and all we want is to please." and Doll said "We're no trouble at all, we always do what we're told sir" so he gave us a look and then he said "Here's what you will do now. First, there's an untraceable line ready, so you can talk with your friend. Who is going to do it ?" And I said "Can Doll come with me for it sir ?" and he said "Look, this is the IC lab, it's not set up for whore accomodation. It's out of the question I haul all four of you there." But I said "That's ok sir, but it has to be both me and Doll because Sylvia loves Doll, and they first met and were always together. But if I'm not there she will think it is some kind of trouble and probably not want to come. Or worse. It has to be both of us for it to work at all." He sighed and said ok, you two and told us to get dressed. And I said "Yes sir. But we don't have any clothes."

He said something I didn't understand to his girls and they came over to us and they dressed us. It was very strange clothes like I've never seen before, like a long sack you wear on your body but it is very pretty because it has drawings on it but not painted over but made out of the material which is very thick and soft and you feel like it loves your body when it folds over you! And also there was a very pretty shawl but for wearing on the head, you wrap it around so that only your eyes can come out and it is made out of something like I've never seen before, like softest than anything really and kinda shiny. And there's a different shawl to put around your waist but you're not supposed to squeeze it tight at all, just maybe a little, but it is wide, and mine was yellow and all pretty and Doll's was very dark red which she says is burgundy. And also shoes but with no heel or straps, just like a sort of sandals but only in the front, and that part was also made of a thing of cloth kinda, but again with the pretty drawings and I had a crazy looking thing like a snake and Doll had a rose with birds with very long tails that became the rose and these were really some of the prettiest things I ever saw in my life! Then he said "After you're back all four of you will go to the gym, and you work out there like the trainer says, is that clear ?" And we all said "Yes sir" looking down and then he said "After that you have lunch, and it will be with your fans and then you get to be in the spa and do whatever you like until dinner and then you will have dinner with more people. And then you can do whatever you want. What do you want to do after dinner ?" I looked around and I said "We'd just like to hang out sir, and I think we need some rest." So he nodded ok and said "Any questions ?" and I said "Are you our handler sir ?" He said "I used to be, but I haven't handled any girls in a few years now." then dogslave asked "Were you very good at it sir ?" and he said he used to be, maybe, and asked her why does she ask him that and I said "Because we can all feel how good you were, sir." and he said "Why must you make everyone so insecure all the time ?" and I said I don't know, and that I'm very sorry about it. Then I asked him if he'll train me to stop doing it, and he said he will! Then dogslave asked if we really have fans, and he said yes, a lot of people are very interested in talking to us, and everyone is talking about us and we're becoming like a legend. I said "Really ?" and he said yes, really, and he told us that the psych guy is working now on updating all their training materials with stories about the little dolls and writing stories about us for little girls and things like that! And then he told us our story will spread, and he thinks will change many things and make slavery much greater and bigger business than it ever was!

So I turned to Doll and I said "You're not in Kansas anymore, Doll!" and she wanted to laugh but didn't and chef asked what's that about and Doll said "Nothing sir, I told her that earlier when she was afraid to be fucked in the ass." and he said "But of course you did!" like he was exhasperated, which is when you're just "omg really ?" like you had enough of it but it just won't stop. Then he told us to come along, and we followed him but his slaves stayed with sisi and dogslave, and we went to the elevator and then the first floor and it was a lot of normal people everywhere like in a business office maybe and then we went to a different elevator and went underground but this had only one floor and it was a big room with a glass window very big into another room full of Christmas chests and closets and there were some young guys here too. Chef told us on the way to not bother the people so I asked how do we do that and he told us just don't talk to anyone, or touch them or look at them or anything! And we didn't, but I think we still bothered them a lot. How is it our fault, they just bother themselves mostly! But in between being bothered by us they gave us headphones and special microphones that clip on your shawl and then there were sounds like tick-tick-tick-tick and then Sylvia said "Yea ?" and I was like "Omg!" and Doll was "Sylvia ?!" and she was omfg is that you Doll ?! And Doll said yeah! and I said Hello Sylvia! And she was omg Babydoll! I am so happy! and immediately started crying. She was crying really hard and then a voice like a robot said "Standby for switchover" and then it just went beep-beep-beep. Then Sylvia said "Hello ?" and I said "Sylvia we can only talk a little bit at a time, but you just keep answering your phone ok ? And we'll talk that way! Okay ?" and she said "Ok Babydoll! But what happened to you ?" and Doll said "We were kidnapped, it was horrible" and then the robot cut in again. Then it dialed again and Sylvia was like "Omg, do you need help ? Doll ?" but Doll said "No, we're ok now love. We're slaves, and we'll be sold at auction soon." and Sylvia said "Oh my god that is so horrible!" and I asked her what's so horrible about it Sylvia ? and then the robot came again. Then she said what do I mean ? And I told her I know she has her career and all, but also we miss her, and we thought maybe she wants to come be with us."

When it dialed again Sylvia asked what is it like ? And I won't say the robot anymore because I don't remember it so well and it doesn't really matter anyway, but we told her that we don't really know, but so far it is very humiliating and we are like real slaves and we walked to the big restaurant, and chef did with his hand under his chin like "Drop it" and so I didn't mention anymore but just told her we were naked where everyone could see us and they were all dressed like normal and everyone looked! And Sylvia said "Oh my god!" So Doll asked how her gig is going and Sylvia said meh, it's kinda boring but ok, and she said people are looking for you, you know, like the police, but I said I don't think they'll ever find us. So she said probably not, huh, and I said I don't think we can talk again because of it, either. So it's pretty much right now, she has to decide for herself, if she wants to come be a slave with us or continue with her career but it can't be both. So she asked me what will they do to her and I said if you want to come they'll kidnap you like they kidnapped us and bring you here, and we'll be together. And she asked me "Is that true Babydoll ?" and I said "Yes Sylvia, it's true" and I told her she'd have to do what they told her, like go to a place by herself and put a blindfold on and handcuff her hands behind her back and wait for them like that. And Doll said "you do have handcuffs, don't you love ?" and Sylvia said "Yes Doll, the pair that you gave me, remember ?" So I said "So do you wanna come ?" and she said "Oh my god, you mean it's right now ?" and I said "Kinda, yeah." And she asked me what do they do to us here ? And I said I don't know Sylvia, we do anything they want us to, anything at all. But so far they only really wanted us to not make trouble, isn't that strange ? And she said Yeah that's strange. Then she asked is there a lot of fucking ? And Doll said nah, not really, at least not yet and Sylvia said this is really tempting. So Doll said "then come over lover" and Sylvia said "Am I going to regret this ?" and Doll said "I hope not". Sylvia said "Ok, what do I have to do ?" and Doll said "Just put something on, take something for a blindfold and the handcuffs, and go out of your hotel, turn left, three streets down there is an alley, in the alley there is a brown van parked, go right behind it, put your blindfold on, handcuff yourself and that's it. You'll be here tomorrow and find out for yourself. Sylvia said "Oh my god!" and then the robot cut off, but this time there was no redial.

I looked at Doll and she looked at me and grabbed my hand. "You think she's coming ?" I asked her, and she said "I think so. I think so Babydoll. I hope I haven't done something wrong. Something terrible, terribly wrong." Chef said "she'll be okay" and I said "Will you take her in yourself, Chef ?" and he asked "Do you want me to ?" and I said please! so he said alright. Then Doll looked at him and said "Can you please tell them not to fuck her on the way ? Please ?" but he said "That never happens!" and I looked at him and then at Doll and back at him like "wtf is he on about" and he said "That extraction team was reprimanded. They really weren't supposed to." then after a little pause "You were asking for it, you know that ?" and I said "I didn't know we weren't supposed to ask" and he said yeah. Then he asked Doll "Is she a lesbian ?" and Doll said "Kinda... not really. She fucks ok but I have to bring it to her. She takes it from my hand." and Chef scratched his head. Then two executioner guys came along and took us back to our place and left. The place was crazy! It wasn't just dogslave and sisi, the two slave girls Chef brought in at first were still there and like 500 of their friends, I don't even know how many girls were there, the bed was full and the floor full of sitting girls and kneeling and it was crazy! We said hello and kissed and nuzzled and hugged but it was just too crazy many to remember, like a whole parade! And it turns out that they all wanted to talk to us and were there talking and hanging out with dogslave and sisi the whole time and everyone respects us like that day in school only even more because these are real slaves and whores not stupid schoolgirls from the drama club or whatever, and they asked all sorts of questions and everyone wants to be friends but we didn't have any time because they said it's time to go to gym! And everyone had to go places because the whole time it was just girls going in and out because they could only be away for a little while so they kept leaving but new ones coming too! So we ran off to the gym with Chef's girls, but they said "Wait, don't you want to get dressed ?!" but I said "no time!" and we arrived at the gym I think we were late because the trainer was very stern and said so! But we were panting because we ran like a mile to get there.

The trainer was a girl and I think she's a slave too. She told us to do stretches first, and the other girls snickered because we were naked but they had stretch pants and sneakers and cool tops and sweatbands and gloves without the part for fingers and things! At first I thought stupid bitches, they're too shy to be naked, but then soon I was begging the trainer girl to give us some clothes please, because this gym is nothing like PE omg! It is so. hardddd! And you need the pants and the gloves especially and everything else because otherwise you get rubbed to blisters! And your tits bounce when you run and things, even if mine are small they bounce like crazy and hurt! I can't imagine what sisi or Doll felt like! So they gave us the sweaty clothes of some girls our size that were done and going to shower, and we had to wear them and their filthy sweaty panties too! Well, I don't really know if we really had to do that, but I said we do, and so we did! It was really gross to feel the cold wet thing between your legs ewww! But then we worked it hot and it was ok, you forget about it once you warm it up with your own sweat.

We worked out really long and hard, and even sisi and dogslave aren't as good as they used to be, they said this gym is really demanding and tough, and I said well of course, you used to train with little girls but they said nuh-uh, they even trained with the olympic team once and those girls were eighteen! And even nineteen! But this is hard and me and Doll were just pathetic, I think every single girl there was better than us at any single thing there is. But we will get better, we will, if I have to eat and swallow all their cold sweaty shorts for it I'll do it! And Doll will do it with me! Then we were late to lunch because we took longer in the gym because we weren't as good but we didn't want to skip things and we were late to begin with and so I said girls, let's go sweaty! And we didn't shower, we just went to lunch in our sweaty borrowed filthy clothes! I thought nobody will want to talk to us that way and they'll just let us be to eat and go to the spa, but I was wrong, oh I was so so wrong. There were like nine or even more, maybe fifteen guys at the table where we had lunch and they were all kinda young and all they wanted to do is kiss us like on the neck and sniff our armpits and things like that! They didn't even eat, I mean they kept trying to pretend like they were or even talk about things but really they just found pretexts and we didn't even talk about anything because we were too tired, they just wanted to like curl under the table and smell our socks! It was the craziest thing, and then when Meron came to take us to the spa they were like crazy and didn't want to let us go! They were pulling and pushing on each other and it was getting crazy, so I said look, you can have my shoes! And my socks! And I held out my foot and they took the socks off but they weren't even mine! And then I winked at dogslave and we all took off our clothes one by one and they were like crazy dogs fighting and tearing apart among themselves everything we took off. And then we were naked and the table was all overturned and stained from everything that was on it because I think every single cup or glass or anything was on its side on it, and I even stepped in some pate! So we ran off with Meron and left that mess behind. Doll was shaking her head on her way and I said "What Doll, it's just like Chef said, we're not making any trouble at all!" and she was like "riiite" and dogslave said "I hope they whip the shit out of us for this" and I said "I kinda would like a good welting myself!" and sisi just sniffled.

Then we lounged in the spa, which was very nice and relaxing but I was starting to hurt everywhere from the workout, and Doll too, but dogslave and sisi laughed at us and called us old bitches all stiff and crotchety and made us kiss their better butts! Then we had to dress for dinner, and we went to the place with all the dresses and oh my god these people here have a lot of dresses! It's crazy, completely crazy, there's a large room like it's the size of a warehouse and there's mirrors on all the walls and there are columns inside and there's mirrors on all the columns too real wide like three girls can stand in front of it and then in between there's just clothes and dresses and I think they have a million different dresses and shoes even more, like I think if you piled up all their shoes it would be a pile of shoes as large as the building of our school! And they're by sizes, and they have the same dresses in different sizes too, but it's very strange sizes not like 0-2-4-6-8 like in normal time, but here it is 0, then 0 1/3, 0 2/3, and then 1! and then at 2 it becomes 1/4 1/2 3/4 instead of 1/3 so there's four kinds of 2 and 4 and 6, and then there's also 2 C which is for curvy and it's like top is 2 and bottom is 4, and 2 VC which is like 2/6 and there's also T which is when your boobs are very big for your frame, and there's like a hundred sizes in total! But girls are not allowed to be over 8, and there is no 8 T only 8 VC which is a real big ass! And I am 2 1/4 and dogslave is 2 and Doll is 4 T and sisi is 4 T too! They really are the same size in dresses here too! And all the dresses are very great I don't mean like some are great and some are ok, all of them are great and sexy and revealing and there's even very skimpy ones or with your tits out completely and it's still a dress! Or showing cunt or all sorts of things, but there's also just normal sexy dresses but there's no boring ones. And the materials are all very great and not like I've seen before except for lickskin which they have, but there's all sorts of strange materials like my big strange dress earlier, and like the shawl and also there's very see-through like a gauze and many many kinds!

Both me and Doll chose the same red dress, which is very pretty like shiny red because it is covered in small little flat things and it goes low in your back right above your buttcrack and then it comes up over your tits in front, and there's an opening in between where the boobs are going all the way down to your bud almost, and showing your belly button, but it's narrow, and it has a thing right under the boobs really making it look like you have a very large cunt on your belly, and it is long and clingy all the way to the floor! And we wore it with really tall high heels, not like normal high heels where your toes are kinda close on the floor but these are way way up on like a podium for your toes! And they are so hard to walk in I can not do it at all, but Doll is better at it and I have to hold on to her like a little girl! So we're only going places together, I'm holding her with my arm around her back above her ass and she is holding me like that and it's very cute to watch! And dogslave got herself a lickskin slut dress, it's just very tight on her making everyhing show like her boobs and her clit, it's with no legs or arms really more like a leotard but it has ruffles coming out over her ass and they look just like peacock feathers, there's many and they're puffed up. And dogslave really likes to rub her clit softly through it, and at the table did it all the time, she'd dip her fingers in a sauce and rub herself, and dip her fingers in another sauce and rub herself, she rubbed her bud through the lickskin more than she ate! And people pinched her nipples and she sucked on their thumbs and they said she's such a good little whore and they called her a dumb bimbo and she just went ruff! ruff! and purred the whole night like she couldn't even speak! And she even put her shiny black really really tall heel on the table once to rub herself more comfortably and somebody kissed it! And they also felt us up, me and Doll, because it's very easy to do in our dress, you can grab a butt side from behind easy through the dress or else you can grab the bud from in front just putting your hand through the cut, just the boobs are more difficult. And sisi didn't know what to wear so we picked for her a very pretty pink thing which only went down to her hips so her legs were naked and people kissed her legs and thighs, and if she bends over her ass is completely exposed and otherwise it has a bunch of very puffy fur around the neck but it is see-through in the rest so you can clearly see her breasts and nipples and everything but in the see-through it is embedded with sparkels and it has little bits that say WHORE and there's icecream cones and unicorns and magics and many little things like that. And she had to sit in people's lap and she stained them with herself but really they liked it! Only me and Doll had to wear underwear with our dresses because there's rules what you can and can't do but we don't know anyhing except Doll said it's not that hard and she knows most of it but I am still happy we had the other girls there to tell us what's what and how to do and what everything is and what's it for, even if I also have Doll.

Then we went to dinner and it was very nice and we were introduced to all the people there at the large table where we sat down but we weren't next to each other but kinda towards the ends of it and there were people in between, not just men but women too, and they asked us all sorts of questions but it's too boring and repetitive to write down and besides it's just too much and also there were four smaller tables in the corners of the room with six people at each so there were like maybe more than fifty other people besides us and Chef and some girls from before that I knew were whores too because they were in our room before gym but maybe some others also although it's hard to tell. And it's not by the age, because all the slaves living at the facility like Chef and guys call it are young, not like us but I think they're all younger than Doll. But many women we meet that don't live here are slaves and they can be old, like real old like a granny! But they're still slaves and they love their owner and they are happy together! And also many young girls I asked and they looked just like a slave whore but they said no, they're here with their Daddy to buy them a whore for themselves, like they're Princesses I think, and their dads buy them young slaves just to kiss their ass whenever they want and have fun with, and learn responsibility, like poor people buy a puppy for their kids. And also I think so they learn to be whores from them and not grow up to be moms or something stupid or working for the government. And we had to dance too, although we don't know how, but I said we have to do it anyway, and people really liked to dance with me because I had to cling on to them so I don't fall and they tried to teach me and I think I learned a little but my feet really hurt.

And they said it's a dry party so they only kissed us a little but nobody sucked cock or did anything like that, and the other whores were talking about dogslave because it turns out puppydog came up with a way to bend the rules because it's still dry if she rubs sauce on her bud through the lickskin sorta, or at least it counts or I guess they never had to figure it out before so they don't really know. But nobody could lick it off from between her legs, though once when she was dancing a woman in a very beautiful white dress came and sat on her chair and soiled her dress in dogslave's sauces on purpose. And there was a different girl, very pretty and blonde and with real big boobs like even bigger than Doll's, they were just huge and pushed out, and I squeezed ketchup on her breasts from across the table, and she just pushed them out and lifted her chin and looked at me, and everyone said Bravo! Bravo very loud and then she rubbed it with her glove because she had gloves on her hands all over herself but I wasn't allowed to lick it off.

But they said we can invite some girls with us for after dinner, and I made with the finger at her to please come over because I couldn't go there myself on my shoes and didn't want to take them off either and be barefoot like a peasant in there, and she came and I asked her to please come with us afterwards and she said she would love to and she'll ask permission and dogslave asked another girl and Doll asked me what about her and I thought she meant a very pretty girl but she was not talking about the one I was thinking about but it was a couple of sisters, like twin sisters because they looked exactly the same as each other and then I said I would like to propose a toast and stood up and held my glass although I didn't drink anything from it all night because they said I shouldn't at my age, and Doll banged her knife on hers with one hand and held me up with the other and everyone was quiet, so I said "Here's to the man who'll fuck what he can, and here's to the whore who yields to that man! Now we'll pluck three or four and begone, but in sweet parting, dear all... admire our suntan!" and everyone was just wild clapping and yelling and I went with Doll towards the door a few steps and stopped and turned and dogslave and sisi were coming towards us and so was the pretty blonde girl whose name is Alana and also dogslave's girl whose name is Rosebud and the two sisters Doll was talking about stood up and I reached behind Doll and unbuttoned her so her dress top fell before her and her breasts were out and then she reached behind me and undid mine, and then I wiggled out of mine and Doll wiggled her ass out of hers and we were completely naked and dogslave started squeezing herself out of her suit and sisi just lifted her thing over her head and threw it towards the table but it kinda floated so she kicked it in the air and everyone went wow! like toghether so she raised her leg like she can do on the side of us and dogslave got out of her skin and did the same on the other side and we were like a whore monument and Alana left her dress behind and she came all naked between me and Doll so I almost fell over but then they caught me and the sister girls were holding hands and they're Cherry and Candy and they're extremely pretty and everyone was just wild and we all turned around together in a line holding each other and bent over low to show our butts and then walked out!

It was the best party ever, by like far! And Meron was also with us at the door and she said so too, like it was the best party she ever saw because usually the girls are very shy and there is no show like we had. We walked back to our suite and we just hung out with the girls and talked all night until we were very tired and Alana slept with me and sisi and Doll slept with dogslave and Rosebud because Cherry and Candy had to go back to their Master and I will tell what we talked about tomorrow because I don't remember so well what was at night and what was in the morning anymore.

Continued >>

« The problem with Bostrom's trilemma

Babydoll, Sylvia, Alana, Meron, and Rosebud. »

Category: Cuvinte Sfiinte

Wednesday, 11 November, Year 12 d.Tr.

Princess Babydoll looks in the mirror.

Sunday October the 12th. I woke up very early, I don't know why. I was trying to keep my eyes closed and fall back asleep but I heard Doll talking so I went to investigate. sisi was totally out of it but dogslave kinda woke up a little but I whispered "go back to sleep" and she did! I snuck up all quiet and their door was open a little so I could hear really well. Sylvia was telling Doll this story of this other girl, who was the daughter of a woman that owned one of the modelling agencies which organized things where Sylvia worked, and her name was something longer but everyone called her Messy. Sylvia was even at her wedding, and she said it was the craziest wedding ever, because this Messy girl who was the bride had her bride dress made so her boobs were out! She just had a normal bride dress very long and puffy like they are and with a white veil and everything like a bride, but her dress didn't show just a little bit of boob, it let out her whole chest! Because she is a theoretician of feminism and they have discovered that it's guys fault that women's boobs are sexy, because of the male glaze. Because in other places like in Africa women's boobs are no big deal but very normal like a nose or something, and it's nothing to be concerned of. So she made her dress that way to honor femininity traditions from Africa! I don't know what sense does that make because Sylvia said she was a white girl like herself, not even a little black like Doll, and she wasn't even from Africa and her mom was from Rochester which is in Connecticut. And her great-grandmother was on the Mayflower which is a ship that sailed long ago but it didn't sail to Africa either. And besides, boobs are so much fun, I never wanted to sleep covered in noses or anything like that. I'll have to ask Meron if this is true about Africa, she will definitely know.

Doll said that's pretty wild, and asked if the bridesmaids were topless too ? Sylvia said "No, they were all trannies." which is something I had to look up but it's when little boys, like normal boys that could grow up to be men like Psych or Chef train to be slaves instead, and they take whoremones just like we do every day and because of that they grow boobs and are pretty just like a whore, because gender is a social construct of medicine. But they don't ever have their hole made in them because they can't have it. I wonder if really I am a trannie too and nobody wants to tell me. But Doll rolled her eyes and Sylvia said "Yup, all the bridesmaids were trannies on loan from her friends, and all the bride's grooms" but Doll said "Best men ?" and Sylvia said "Nuh-uh, bride's grooms! She had a dozen thick bulls there the likes of which you've never seen outside a sports team, which I suppose is not that far off. And after the caremony she blew them too, they just lined up and she serviced one after the next." Doll said "And hung like horses no doubt" and Sylvia said "Yup, you'd better believe it, dudes had third arms hanging down there" Doll said "This is straight from the Pantplay letters" and Sylvia said "Exactly, I would never have believed it if I wasn't there to see it myself." which just means that the bride sucked on all these guys penises until they drenched her with their cum because Sylvia said she covered herself in it, and that's not something they normally do at weddings.

And the ceremony itself, Sylvia said, was changed, because she was standing up before a priest guy but the man was kneeling next to her, and he was dressed funny with a sort of pirate shirt and short pants made of some kind of leather and it's a big deal somewhere but I didn't understand where though it starts also with A but not Africa this time. And then the man said "with this ring I thy wed" and it was a huge diamond ring, but he didn't put it on her finger and she didn't either, instead she put it on a necklace she had, and there were more rings hanging from it so it just went with the rest. And then she said "with this leash I thee wed", and she put a dog collar on the man, but it was prettier than normal dog collars. Then the guy said "you may now kiss the bride", but she didn't lift her veil or anything, instead she yelled out "Kiss my black baby's ass!" because she was holding her small baby which was kinda black in her arms. It was completely naked and very little, because that's why she had her breasts out, so her baby could suck on her boobs the whole wedding! And the guy kissed the baby's ass, and they were married that way. And the reason she had a black baby was that she was very careful to only let black men into her hole and that's what makes the baby be black although it's not as black as the man.

Sylvia said that she heard that even before, at the hospital when this woman gave birth to the little baby she went with both this man from the wedding and another one, because she wasn't married to him then but she was married to the other one! They drove her to the hospital and she was barefoot when she got out of the car for some reason and they had to both hold her hands and she told the nurses and everyone, "this is my husband, and this is my boyfriend" because she was challenging gender and class stereotypes and being activistic, which is when people do stupid shit they don't understand what it is or why they're doing it. And everybody didn't care because nobody knew who she was so why would they care who her husband is or boyfriend or anything, the nurses aren't her mom really, and feminists are secret women nobody knows about, especially theoretical ones. Then the baby came out black and it was very humiliating for the men because they were both white and the crazy woman is white too so it means that maybe they didn't fuck her, although it's not for sure what it really means, they could maybe have fucked her too because dogslave was fucked and she doesn't have any babies and Doll too, so what's the point ? Sylvia also told Doll she fucked while she was away, Doll told me, but she said it sucked, and Sylvia doesn't have any babies either. So I think in the end it's just that they wanted it to be humiliating so it was, which is how it works best anyway, and babies are more complicated than that.

But before having her black baby this woman worked really hard to make it, and she was living with her husband but in her boyfriend's house, and she had the main bedroom all for herself and her boyfriend had to sleep in the spare bedroom but he wasn't by himself because her husband had to sleep in the closet! And he had to pee in a special bucket, and always had to wear maids uniforms and do house chores around the house, and the woman didn't have any sex with her boyfriend at all or with her husband but she only had sex with big black guys and the boyfriend had to watch them do it and take pictures and kiss her after and her husband had to clean up and things like that. Sylvia said she married her other first husband in a normal ceremony years before, right after college, but that his job wasn't really making enough money and her mom didn't approve of the husband so she caged him up and made him her slave, and didn't let him go to his work anymore, and then she met a very rich guy who she made her boyfriend and at first they made fun of the husband together but one day the woman whispered in his ear as they were doing it together that he can laugh at her husband all he wants but it is his own fate too, and he can't escape his fate. She made him beg her for all sorts of things after that and then caged him like her husband too, and it turns out it means something else because caging him up isn't about putting him in a cage like we went in to make Sylvia feel welcome, it's not a large cage that's really a sort of special small room, but it is a special thing that goes on the boy's penis, and it makes it so he is more like a girl somehow, though it's still not really a hole.

Doll said that's so fucking sad, and Sylvia said that poor woman, you know ? She has three babies to take care of now, one who maybe ever grows up but maybe not and two who never ever will for sure, because it's too late for them by now. And Doll said "And all because she took seriously what she read in porno mags". And Sylvia said "So that's why I didn't care how scary it was when she asked me", meaning when I asked her, to come over and be with us! I snuck back out and into bed, silently, but I was so happy I can't say into words how happy I was, and Doll if you read this sorry for snooping but you know she is a little my whore too, just like you are!

Soon a different girl brought us breakfast, and she kneeled when she saw me and dogslave going out of our bedroom and then she bent her body forward and bopped her head against the floor and put her face down on the floor after she had enough head bopping. I asked her if her belly hurts but she started crying a little and said no, it is just her dream come true to see me and all of us and that we are her real saints and she prays to us all the time for miracles! Because I am a virgin just like Mary only better, and all the other holy glories of heaven with me, meaning Doll and everyone, and we can make miracles if worthless lowly slaves like her have good faith in us and our power! So I had an idea and I asked her if she'd like a gift, and she just sighed and said anything, please anything! so I ran into the bathroom where Doll was clipping her nails and I took a clipping and ran back to the crazy girl and told her it's mine and she can have it! She took it and I think kinda sniffed it a little, and then shoved it hard inside her bellybutton and I think she hurt herself with it because there was a very red tear of blood dripping away from her slowly. Then she crawled out! She was a very pretty girl with long curly hair and her skin was a lovely warm color of honeycomb, too bad she's retarded though.

Then we went to the gym because we didn't go yesterday, right, and we were on time and we didn't say a peep! The trainer patted my butt and said I am making progress, and Doll saw it and I could see it made her so happy! Then the trainer went right past her and didn't say anything, and Doll was so sad! Then she looked at me and she was happy again, like a carusel. Then after workout in the shower I got close to a very beautiful girl right next to me that was at least seventeen or even more, and I said "Hey". I think I know her maybe from somewhere though I don't remember her name. She said "Hello Princess." with bated breath and was all excited to talk to me. I hugged her and she hugged me right back and she went to kiss my mouth because she thought I was, but I really just wanted to whisper in her ear, so she reclined her head on my shoulder and I whispered "Are there any trannies here ?" She turned her head and said I think so, then kinda looked around and said "Sure, there's Fran." I turned around her and held her from behind to look where she is looking. I had my hands on her hips but she lifted them with her hands and rubbed her boobs slowly with my hands under hers, and she wiggled her butt into me. I asked "Where" and she pointed with her nose, and then I said "Can we talk to her ?" and she nodded and wiggled her butt more and then we went over holding hands. She said "Hey Fran!" and Fran said "Omg Nitty, is that the Princess ? Babydoll ?"

I giggled and said no, really I am her evil twin that is mean to everyone and tortures girls especially trannies and they both laughed. We went over to dry off and Fran showed me her cunt, but it's really nothing like one! She has a small penis where her cunt should be, it's just like a normal penis and she told me that is true herself, but it sits inside a very tight little sheath of thick clear plastic so it can't ever come out or cause any trouble. Fran told me it is the most important for girls like her to not ever have any stimulation of the penis at all, because that way their body learns better and they become sensitive in their butt because trannie whores have a small nut inside their butthole on the side towards their belly not their back, that girl whores like me and Nitty and everyone don't have, and it can be very sensitive especially if it learns to be and it makes trannies have a sweet pee just like girl whores only much easier to bring out. But really I think trannies are just boys in disguise because their trannie cunts just look exactly like a normal penis and there's even a ballsac there which is how the plastic sheath is anchored in fastened in the first place. I went for it and grabbed it in my hand, and Fran was like whoa! because it's very sensitive and delicate and I grabbed it too roughly. But then I did it again and Fran started to tear up, so I said she has to show us how her sweet comes out or else I'll do it over and over again. Nitty was laughing but Fran was really antsy and said that masturbation is forbidden in the gym shower.

I said that's ok, you'll just get punished for it. It's what you deserve for being a trannie anyway, isn't it Fran ? and I went for her balls again but Fran said yes yes please let me show you how I do Princess and put her thumb up her butt while I was holding her balls in my hand trying to be as delicate as possible. dogslave came and joined us but I don't know where sisi was, probably whoring out with some older whore with big boobs, and Fran pumped her ass againt her finger making it difficult on herself with her balls still in my hand and then she made a little thick in her palm and held it up for me to see. I said "is that it ?" and she said yeah so I licked it a little to taste it. The taste is very strange because dogslave's sweet is much more watery than this, but man cum doesn't taste anything like it either although it is also thick like that. But dogslave said no, it tastes just like real man cum and sisi also joined us and she said it's definitely cum. So I was like hmm and Fran thanked us for using her and went towards the showers, but I said "Where are you going Fran ?" and she said she's going to shower and doesn't like to take her finger back out before she gets there. But I told her no, she has masturbated which is forbidden, she has to turn herself in now.

Nitty was like o wow and Fran started trembling but I said she has to do it no matter what so she minced steps all the way to one of the trainers and cried and told on herself that she is a bad trannie whore that has to be punished because she masturbates look and showed the trainer her hand. The trainer just laughed and all the girls training laughed too, and then the trainer told her to just go wash off and three or four of the girls that were training pushed their pants down off their butt and showed their little trannie penises and ballsacs for just a moment. One even had a slave stone inside her butthole just like we wear! This is a thing trannie whores do, whenever one of them is in trouble for being a trannie they flash their little penises so everyone can see they're that way that too! It's called solidarity, and it only works because there's not so many of them, because if we girl whores did the same thing it wouldn't make any difference because everyone knows there's so many of us and how our cunts look. I think it's a good idea though and I think if a girl is in trouble or being raped or hurt and there's only another one girl there she should show her cunt just like the trannies do so the people do whatever they're doing to her too maybe. And the other girl will feel a lot better about what they are doing to her because someone loves her so much, and everyone will be happier.

On the way back to our place I told Doll and Sylvia about the strange cum but sisi said it's just normal cum really and Doll said Princess, when did you taste man cum ? And I told her, remember when the men made dogslave her hole ? And she asked me if Fran's the first time ever since then ? And I said yeah remember, the owner didn't want to touch me with his bent penis. I only had it from dogslave, what was left behind in her and the guy that fucked her then forced his cock into my mouth and after him the guy that fucked you in the ass. She said "Princess... they tore my asshole, I was bleeding." And Sylvia said wow and sisi asked what's going on and dogslave said "Princess thinks trannie cum doesn't taste like real man cum because she thinks real man cum tastes like cum mixed with blood because she only tasted it mixed with my cunt blood and Doll's anal blood." and everyone was like wow wtf.

So I said wait a minute then, there's really no difference, Fran is just a little boy ? He has a ballsac just like any man and makes cum just like any man, Fran is not a whore at all! Sylvia said "Oh brother!" and Doll said "What now." and Sylvia said "Princess, being a whore is a state of mind, not a state of ass." and I was like "hmmm" and Doll said remember when you said Alana is prejudiced ? I said "sure, it was yesterday" and she said "Well, you said that because she thought she's a whore because of what she does, but that doesn't matter so much, what matters is what you think while you're doing it, right ? If you think like Alana you can whore out ten ways from Sunday and you're still just a mom whoring out". I said "but then anyone can be a whore, like Psych could be a whore" and Sylvia said "Honeybuns, Psych is more whore than all of us together." but I got angry and I said "This is bullshit, everything is a whore like that, milk is a whore!" and they started laughing and saying it over and over, "Milk is a whore! Milk is a whore!" like crazy people. It's all bullshit, maybe a car is a horse really because it feels like a horse when going uphill so that's what matters, but Doll said "Some whores are terrible at it, that's all, it doesn't mean they need a special word."

We argued about it all the way to lunch and while we ate, and then we went to the library to see if there's anything good about it in all the books, and then we were there very late because there's much more interesting things in books than that. Like the story of the little girl that kept putting things inside herself like crayons and little pebbles and snails and everything she could find. Whenever she'd go anywhere she'd first pack her hole with the environment, if she went by a river she'd get some mud from the river side and shove it in herself, or if she walked through the forest she'd fill her hole with leaves, until one day she shoved a little spider in there. This spider was very smart, and he went for a walk inside the little girl, checked out all that she had in there with his little spider magnifying glass collecting clues and took samples of her and studied them in his spider lab which he had and investigated her place where her babies grow and everyhing. Then he ran out of her while she slept, and went and showed the other spiders his notes and samples that he took and he explained theories of his to them and they even had a little astronomical observatory with lipstick tubes with magnifying glasses in them attached to the roof because they were very civilised and scientific spiders. And they figured out a lot of things and in the morning they sent a delegation to the little girl, to invite her to visit their lab deep in the forest.

The little girl thought it's a great opportunity to shove some soft squishy mushrooms in herself maybe, or some slimy green moss or something, so she went, but when she got close the spiders all had a signal and they all bit her and she fell asleep from it because they had their poison set to sleep. Then they ate all her clothes away with their spidey acid and cut them off of her little bit by little bit but there were so many of them that it took them no time at all to do it because once she was asleep they came from all around hordes and lots and throngs of spiders because it was such an exciting event in spider world! So they tied her down with their silk all completely naked and then some spider queens went inside her hole, deep, deep inside, and spider scientists and more spiders dragging operation tables and spider instruments that they had, and they made an operation on her and gave her spider queen ovaries which are the things inside a whore making her periods. The little girl could never leave anymore, at first spiders just crawled on her face and stuffed her mouth full of flies and things they caught, but half-digested by them, and then she didn't want to open her mouth anymore so they silked her mouth shut together and just put food into her stomach through her nose, because there is a connection, and she could never open her mouth again or talk or yell or anything, because the spiders ate her lip skin and put them together with their silk and spider pee and it welded together so her lips did not have an opening anymore but it was just like on a butt, all smooth.

And they crawled inside her ears and banged spider pots and pans together very melodically which sounded like a voice saying things to her like if she isn't a good spider whore they'll do the same to her eyes and she will never see any stars at night or anything anymore ever again, so she tried to promise she is going to be a good whore but of course there was no way for her to speak anymore but it didn't matter because the spiders sat on her throat all the time on the outside, and they could tell what she's trying to say because spiders are very good at understanding vibrations and making sense of them because that's what they do best. So all the time there were many spiders going in and out of the little girl like she was a spider building, and slowly more and more parts of her became made of spider, and every time she had her period just lots and lots of spiders came out of her cunt, but some were really broken and had like, an ear on their back like a baby ear or a clump of hair like that old comedian guy that's not funny, but many were very good and some had little tiny hands instead of the pokey hairy things they have and the spiders became much greater scientists than before and they started hunting all the little girls and planting forests everywhere and after that the whole world was just spidey buildings meaning big piles of skin with spiders inside and parts leftover of little girls that the spiders kept and spider webs everywhere and just forest and darkness and lots and lots of spiders. The story said that if little girls put things inside or touch their cunts that's going to happen to them too, but honestly I think the entire thing might be just made up bullshit, just like tranny whores in the first place.

Then we went back to where we live and went to bed. I think it should be called something so I'll call it The Occunt, because I like how it sounds. And I said Sylvia can't sleep with Doll anymore because they're too annoying, and dogslave can't sleep with Doll either because they're Princessmancumbloodsisters now, and I won't even sleep with them because they'll probably rub my whore off of me with their nonwhore boobs and arms so I slept in the armchair but really it was too uncomfortable so I went in with Doll and sisi and they hugged me and we fell asleep. But then I woke up later to pee and I went to sleep with Sylvia instead and dogslave, and they hugged me too. And then dogslave got up and went to sleep with sisi and Doll, and then Doll came over to be with me but I think really she wanted Sylvia and Sylvia then got up and went over to be with the young whores because Doll is too old to be a whore and we really deserve each other, and so I slept with Doll but really we only slept like an hour at a time like cats and kept getting up to talk except for sisi who just slept like a log all night through and then asked wtf happened because she's in bed with different people but we just told her she's a whore.

Continued >>

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Category: Cuvinte Sfiinte

Saturday, 14 November, Year 12 d.Tr.

Princess Babydoll is eaten and dead

Tuesday October the 14th. Maryam and the women's talk about their traditions turned out to be completely bullshit, of course. As we were having breakfast a man came in, to fuck us.

The man.

I froze with my canape in my hand and my mouth open for it. If my mouth wasn't opened for it, it would have opened for him. I thought "He is going to kill me!" but I do not know why. He did not look angry, he did not look anything. He just looked. I felt like my life was ending out of me. We all kneeled, our faces down. He didn't move, he stood there, far above all of us. He was ordering us, to kill ourselves, silently. For him.

I dared to look at him. It was hard, my head did not want to move. I had to make it move. It took me a while. He looked at me. Everyone else faced the floor. I wanted to, with them. But I couldn't. I don't know why. He looked at me, but he didn't look like me, not at all like me at all. He looked like he was going to kill me. But why ? How ? And I did not want to die.

I said "Please do not kill us!" I cried out "Have mercy!" He said nothing, nothing at all. I whispered with tears running down my face, "Pitie! Pitie!" in French. I was so sorry I did not ask the women how do their birdsongs sing out for mercy, that I didn't learn it in Italian, please have mercy on ourselves!

I did not know I do not want to die before I met him. But I do not. I want to live his slave, not to die. I do. I never wanted to live so much before, not even when Psych put me on the racks I didn't really want to live, not like this. Not desperate, hopeless, hopeful, enslaved like this. My ankles hobbled together, invisible but forever. I am his. I am a thing of his, that he has many of, that all I want's to live being his thing of his. I am glad and I give thanks that he has many things like me. That way he doesn't have to care about me, he doesn't have to kill me, that way, the only way I may live to be his.

He asked "Are you my slaves ?" and I said "I am, your grace". Everyone murmured "I am, your grace" with me, then we said it out loud, together, "We are, your grace". I don't know why, I don't know how he made us do that, but he did. We had no choice and we didn't need to talk or arrange anything. He spouted it out of us just standing there, like a magnet makes the shavings dance. The Sun smiles far away in the sky, but all the flowers and all the leaves and all the little bugs and birds and every face turns to it. And then he didn't smile. He didn't frown, he didn't anything. He just stood there, and his face looked at us, and I really knew what that story meant. It didn't look like a lion, or like anything. It looked like everything, and at the same time everything.

Sylvia crawled to him. She didn't look at him, she nuzzled his knees, she took his clothes off of him, she kissed his manly rod that looked so round and full and I was so jealous of her. She whispered "May I be spanked, Master ?" and he kneeled next to her. She made a table, on her knees and elbows, right in front of him. She played and rolled her boobs over his beautiful round fulness under them with her hand. She wiggled her butt. He slapped her, and she Ow'd. Doll sat herself on her ass, her legs around my ass, her hands taking hold of mine. I opened slowly, my hands, my arms, my ankles, my thighs. Sylvia Ow'd again. sisi was trembling. Doll told dogslave to rub her bud, to make her pretty orgasm sounds. Sylvia Ow'd one more time, and dogslave sighed like she does when it begins for her.

Doll said "Come take what's yours out of her, Master" and he looked at me. I looked at him. I nodded and I looked at him. I whispered "Please". He came over me, as Doll held me open for him. He looked at me. I looked at him. I couldn't look away. I could hear Sylvia and dogslave both, moaning their moans, but I couldn't see anything besides his face. He caressed my hair away from my face. I burned inside. I knew I was forgiven. That I may live. That I'm his slave and he forgives me for being alive. It is ok because he says it is ok, and he says it's ok by his caress, and that's ok. Mineral water, sparkling, flooded my belly. I felt him, his round, full, happy him touch me right under my little bud, like a kiss. I wanted him to hurt me so much! He looked at me.

I whispered "Please Master, please hurt me with my slave's blood on you. Please." He looked at me. I grabbed sisi by the hand, I pulled her to me, I pulled her over me, to straddle me. She had her ass to him, she looked scared at me. I couldn't see him anymore, but she could see him still in me. I reached behind and touched his magic in my hand for the first time. It tingled. I lined it up for him. He thrust into her hard, I felt her pretty, heavy boobs bounce over mine. I kissed her scream out of her. She cried. I lifted my legs up, for him. Doll let go of my hands and grabbed me by the ankles. sisi wiggled herself up, trapping my legs under hers, sitting her bloody cunt on my belly. He pushed himself in me slowly, so, so slowly. I think it hurts more that way. I think he wanted to hurt me the most. He pushed through my skin and made my hole in me slowly, forever, hurting me bad and ever worse and worse. sisi smothered me with her boobs, Doll hugged me with her elbows, holding me, keeping me stuck for him. They both did, between their bodies and in their embrace I was helpless and hurt. I felt dogslave kiss my right hand on the floor, and then suckling my thumb.

After he tore me he stopped, and pushed sisi away. She curled herself around my left hand, on the floor. She cried on it, she rubbed her hair and her face with it, by herself. He bent over me and kissed my mouth. Doll let go of me. She let go of my legs, I wrapped them around him tight, so tight. Doll let go of me, moved away from under me. I could hear her moan too, with Sylvia and dogslave, as he fucked the hell out of me. He pounded and pounded me, it hurt and it stung at first. Then I felt my joy raise from inside, from deep inside where he hurt me and he pounded me heavy, again and again. It was like a little spark that flattens and grows, like melted metal spreading itself everywhere. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him in his mouth as far as I could reach and further still. I knew when he was done, I could feel my new hole squeezing him in the way he was squeezing himself inside of me. At the same time, I squeezed like he squeezed, no space between us, not me pushing him not him pulling me, just both independently the same thing. Like a dance of him and me inside of me, a squeezing of a squeeze, to fill me with his cum, the part of me inside bashing itself crazy against the tip of him.

He came out of me, and was on his knees, drawing his breath. Doll bent over me, and kissed his tip, his blood red tip with white streaks on it, and then she lapped inside of me. dogslave crawled over, and she kissed his tip, that Doll just kissed, and then she lapped inside of me too. Sylvia crawled over, and licked his balls from the side, where blood and cum dripped, and then she lapped inside of me. sisi sniffled and she sat on my face. I kissed her bloodied cunt, and licked inside, like the twins had said. She pulled my legs in, and kissed me, and licked inside. He wasn't panting anymore, and when sisi got off of me I could see Doll and Sylvia on either side of him, kissing each other around his rod that he had used on me. It quivered and spat out more cum, all over me. They licked their lips, and put their faces on his feet, behind. dogslave licked it all off of me. I sniffled "Hey!" and she kissed me with it, so I'm not left without tasting the taste of it. I put my hand in some and rubbed it on my cheek, then I rubbed it on my bud, and made myself have it against my will. It was so deep!

Doll purred and asked "Are you satisfied with your slaves, Master ?" He laughed, for the first time he laughed, the best laugh that I ever heard. Then he said "You're perfect, whores" though Doll says he said "You're perfect whores" which is different, if he said like that. But I do not believe so. Then he left. We were left behind, crumpled on the floor, like that one day. But this made me so happy, I felt for the first time since I can remember complete. Full and ok, and like I should be.

We just lay there, for the longest time. Nobody said anything. sisi was sniffling and crying softly. dogslave was making herself have it over and over again, but then she stopped. She can have it forever, but eventually it has to stop. She always stops, eventually. Sylvia stopped first, then Doll, and then at last dogslave. It was quiet. We were dead. I said "I am dead now." Doll looked at me, and I told her "I'm dead, Doll". She grabbed my head to her chest and whispered softly, "We all are, Princess. We're all dead." Suddenly a scare came all over me, everywhere. I started and I looked at her. "What do you think he'd like for us to do ?" She patted my hair, and she said "He'd like us to wash, and talk, and be happy for him."

We all hugged in the shower, it's so tight if it's with all of us that nobody can really move. We just poured soap on each other, by the shoulders and the neck. It lathered itself between our bodies, seeping down as we moved and rubbed together. sisi wasn't bleeding anymore, but I still was. I bled a lot. They kissed it better, first Doll and Sylvia, then they kissed my mouth while dogslave licked at my hurt. Her tongue inside me stung, and I could taste the most strongest cum from Doll. She says it is just blood, Princess, but really it's true cum.

Then we got out and hung around my bed. I sat on a small towel until my bleeding stopped. Doll sat next to me and I leaned in on her, sisi laid herself flat on the other side. Sylvia sat on the floor, with dogslave, at my feet. Sylvia rubbed them softly in her hands and dogslave kissed my toes a little bit, now and again. "Why are we here ?" I asked myself. "I'm here because I fell in love with Doll" said Sylvia. "You brought me here, Princess", sisi said. "I'm here because when I met you I died, just like you died, Babydoll" said Doll, and then dogslave said Ruff! Ruff! meaning she's here because she's my puppydog, and puppydogs follow you everywhere you go. "We're all here because of me", I said, but Sylvia answered "We're all here with you, Princess. We are together, with you." I wanted to cry, but I didn't want to. I asked them "Can you still love me ? Now that I'm dead ?" Nobody said anything. "I'm dead", I said, "He's killed me. I'm dead by him. For him." But Doll said "so are we" and sisi rolled on top of me and hugged me tight crying and kissed my mouth. "He's scary, isn't he." asked Sylvia, and dogslave said he looks like he has a lion's head. She's seen the same as me! sisi held my head and nodded her head at me, facing me, her eyes in my eyes. She whispered "Will he eat us ?" and Doll said "He looks so fierce, doesn't he." but I said "He's not angry" and Sylvia said no, not yet.

Will he be angry ? Will he be angry at me, at us ? We'd better not make him angry. What would he want ? I asked what they thought, and sisi said he wants us to be fat and round and juicy, for when he decides to eat us. I asked Doll if he's going to eat us and she said "I don't know." but Sylvia said "He looks like he could" and I said it's just like in the story, isn't it! But they didn't know the story with the lion head, so I brought out my journal and I read it out to them. They liked it very much, although they never read it before, not even Doll. I said to her "Oh silly Doll, it's from your book!" but she said she never reached that far yet, and it is true because I did not start from the beginning, I just opened the book at any page it wanted to open itself. It's a really thick book. We talked about it, though, and we agreed it's not the same, because there isn't just one of us, and because nobody dreamed of a merchant guy, I asked everyone and they all said no. And we would never be lonely because we're together, and we love each other and we'll all give ourselves to him. Together. Then Sylvia said "and then the children will come". I was like "wut" but Doll asked me if I will ask my Master to give me children ?

It's true, you know, even if I'm little I could caress and comfort his small babies inside of me. And then they would come out, like in that drawing of puppydog, but they wouldn't be small puppies, they'd be small lions probably. Maybe they wouldn't even wait to be hatched out normally, maybe they'll scratch at me from inside of myself and come out that way, leaving a hole in my body behind, a new hole leading to where they were, where they started from. Maybe they'd eat me from inside, for him, and there'd be nothing left, just the skin. They could fill my empty skin with oats and hay and set it down and point and laugh at me, but I wouldn't be there anymore, because I'd be inside of them, all inside of them but not knowing myself anymore. Maybe they'd tear me apart from myself and leave just the skin behind to look like there once was a Babydoll.

Doll asked me if I would and I said I don't know, I'll have to ask the Master what to want. I asked her if she wants to make her own Babydoll, but she said she only wants it if I do. She said if I want it she wants to swell up in the same time with me, and hold my hand. But Sylvia said she doesn't want babies at all and dogslave grabbed her by the hand and didn't say anything but I think she didn't want to either. sisi just cried quietly and caressed my arm and I think she wanted to make lots of babies that eat her from inside until she's gone in them. I said I'll do whatever it is that he wants me to, and we all have to. I said we have to all promise and swear that we will do exactly as he wants us to, and I held out my hand. sisi put hers on mine, and then Doll, and then dogslave lowered her face and head way down low and reached with her hand upwards, towards us, so I grabbed her pretty black paw into my hand, under sisi and Doll's hands, and mine. We'll crush you into goodness, puppydog! Sylvia just looked at us, her eyes thickened with big tears that wouldn't drop. I said "Please Sylvia, we're slaves, we have to" but she didn't say anything. We looked at her like she looked at us, and then Doll said "Please, love. Do it for me." and Sylvia's tears came out, because she grabbed herself by her own hair with the left and pulled herself hard, moving her head from behind. She reached on Doll's hand with her other hand, and I kissed it when it settled down.

We're all His slaves, we've agreed, my Master and their Master too, we'll serve Him together, the Great One. The Greatest One, that hurts inside and kills and maybe one day eats us, too, the great lion head guy of the end. I wanted to sing a song about it, but I don't know any songs. I have to learn some songs. We all do. Then he came in! He had Maryam and the others with him too, and he was dressed in a different thing from the last time, it's very weird what he wears like a sort of bahtrobe really but not made out of towel like normal bathrobes and it is with clinging and wrappings around and he doesn't have a normal hat but a sort of scarf on his head. You can see his beard, and his face, but you can't see his rod when he is dressed like that. I wish I could see it though, I wanted like a burn to see it again, like a wasp's sting into mouth's lips I wanted to see what makes slaves of little girls like me.

He asked very loud "Who's hungry ?" and sisi opened her eyes big and wide and said "You are, Master ?" and I could tell she thinks the time has come, he's hungry and he shall eat us now for lunch. I said, "We're starving for your company Great One" and the women dressed us and we all went out to eat! Together, we were with just him, six people at our table, one person and five slaves. I told him while we were eating soup that sisi didn't mean to be cheeky, but she thought he looked just like a lion, and she thought for some reason he is going to eat us, like a lion. And she thought he's making a joke because he is hungry and he will eat us, isn't that right sisi ?

She blushed and nodded, and he laughed his great laugh and said that is the greatest thing, the pretty slave mistaking him for a lion, because a long time ago, when he was young, just a small boy even younger than us, maybe only five or six years of age which is how he says "years old", he says "years of age" and I think it is better to say it that way because that's how he says it, his Father the king told them not to go into the lion's cage, because they had received a large and scary lion from far away to live in the palace. And his older brother told him and his other brothers that they're cowards and little chicken shits because they don't dare go in the lion's cage, though their Father told them not to and the lion might eat them. All night the little Prince tossed and turned in his bed, and then he went down to where the lion was, and opened up the cage, and went inside! He gave the lion a great big hug, and the lion put his big soft paw around his neck and slobbered all over him and then they went to sleep together, until they found them in the morning!

I asked him why did he do that, why did he go inside the cage ? Did he not think the lion will kill him ? He told me he thought the lion will kill him for sure, but that is why he tossed and turned, because it's even worse if the lion didn't kill him because he didn't go. Then his older brother will be right, and that is much worse than being dead. He said the reason it's the greatest thing, sisi mistaking him for a lion, is that he never felt that way since then, except when he came into our room. All night he tossed and turned, but then he came, in the cage with the scary lions that we are, because it's okay if we kill him, why shouldn't it be.

Doll was all pale, and Sylvia had her mouth open to her knees, and dogslave hid under the table, I could feel her wiggling my toes with her fingers. I said Great One, it's not just sisi that thought you were a lion. We all did. You looked to us, to each and every all of us the same, like a big guy with a lion head that's come to eat us. And when you left, you left us all crumpled on the floor and we were dead. He was very surprised, and he said this is like in the poets of old, because we thought of him the same as he thought of us, and I asked him if he knew the story of the merchant guy on the island and he said he did! And then he told it to us, but it was a little different from how I wrote it down because as he told it after the lion guy found the merchant guy and killed him and ate his liver and left his body to be eaten by the vultures and the crabs on the beach he forced himself into the beautiful girl, although she cried and cried and begged him not to, but he did it anyway, and every night, and it made her pregnant which is when his baby is growing inside of her, and then she gave birth to a baby boy but he looked just like the merchant guy! Only littler but the same, except for the clothes of course but in the face and everything.

So the lion guy ate the little baby! And the pretty girl fell asleep, she moved around in their fane that they had on the island but with her eyes closed, and she still ate and drank but she did not speak or sing anymore. And the lion guy forced himself into her every night, and she was pregnant many times but every time the baby boy that she had looked just like the dead merchant guy exactly, and the lion guy ate it the same night that it came out of her, and the years passed and went by until the girl was old and the lion guy never came to her anymore, and she wanted to sing again about how lonely she is but she couldn't anymore, because she was quiet and never spoke for so long a time she couldn't remember how to speak or sing anymore. So she went and lay down where the merchant guy's body was long ago, and the crabs were clicking their pincers and the vultures circled above and there she died.

We said this is an even sadder story from before, and he said that is the true inheritance of his people, that their stories are the saddest stories of all the stories in all the lands, and their water is the bitterest water of all the waters in the whole wide world. But I told him we talked about it, and it must be a different story because it's true that he looked that way to all of us at first, but we don't dream of any merchants like that girl, nor ever have, and we love him and we're his slaves. He said that makes him glad, and then I asked him if he wants to give me babies ? Because, I told him, we talked about it too, and we are all agreed that it is up to him and we will do as he pleases but if he wants me to have babies we please may all have them and be swolled up at the same time and hold our hands together ?

To that he said little Princess, it's not your time yet to have babies, you are a baby still yourself. And he said to me that what he wants is for us to be happy together and for me and dogslave and sisi to grow up into ourselves, and be young women like Doll and Sylvia are, and that it won't be long, just a few years which to us is like endless forever, of course, but it is really not that long and we'll be young women with Sylvia and Doll together and we can all be lovers truly and have the greatest and best time of this life, short as it is for everyone but longer by a hair for women.

We all said it's a splendid idea, because anything he wants us to do is the best for us, and besides Doll said we've all been trying too hard at this slavery thing and it is great but even great things can be too much, and Sylvia smiled, and I will do exactly what he tells me to.

Ok I'm gonna go be a kid now. Bye!

~ FIN ~

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Category: Cuvinte Sfiinte

Tuesday, 17 November, Year 12 d.Tr.

Princess Babydoll and the value of life.

Thursday October the 7th. We were all kinda up although it was dark in the cage room, but Doll said we have a circadian rhythm so we feel the morning even in a hole. This was the first time in my life that I slept completely naked in a cage, without even a cover of any kind. But really it wasn't cold in the room at all. But I thought about it, because I didn't even have any clothes, or anything at all, except my journal and the pen and the spotlight. And the hobble. And my slave stone. Really if you think about it even when you think you have nothing at all you have a lot of things.

We were talking and holding hands through the cage bars, though we could only do either one or the other side at a time and I could only hug Doll or dogslave but not sisi but dogslave carried kisses back and forth mouth to mouth. And I told them that I really like being caged like this and dogslave said she too kinda, but sisi really hated it and Doll too. They asked how come we like it and dogslave said it makes her feel like she is a real dog bitch maybe and I couldn't explain it very well but yeah, I felt like I was an animal and there is nothing to hope for. It sounds terrible now when I read it, and it is terrible, but that's why I liked it when I was in the cage, I think, for how terrible it is. It's like I'm two different people, because when I'm outside I think it would be terrible, but I went inside since then more times and every time it felt great because I thought there is no hope and I am never getting out anymore, even though I knew it's silly and not even true. And it's the same thing with penises, when I'm by myself or with the slavegirls I think they're terrible, just disgusting and ugly, but when they're right there in front of me and especially if a slave I love has it in her mouth I want to lick it too, so bad! Or I think cum is the grossest thing, but if my bae gets filled I just want to lick and suck it all out of her and even when it's all gone I just want more and more. And ballsac sweat is gross when I think about it, but when I smell it I just want to lick where it is the grossest and eat it up. Though right now writing I can almost taste it and it's making me almost throw up it's so disgusting.

But I told them having nothing makes having my lovers with me even more of a big deal, because it's always a big deal but things maybe get in the way or dull it a little, like clothes or really like a bathing suit. I said remember Doll, when you said to her only poor people go into water dressed ? The truth is only poor people have things. And they were all like wow babydoll! Youre crazy! But I told them all I want is to be with them and I even wish they crammed us all into the same cage even if it's barely enough to stand like that, because I just want to feel their skin on mine.

Then the light turned on a little and the man came again from last night, and asked us if we're up already ? And we said yes sir. Then he asked if we want breakfast and Doll said we have to have our whoremone pills first, before food. And he asked about it and she explained so he left, and then came back and gave us the same pills as we had at home! The same exact kind, it was so weird, and it made me want to cry but I didn't want to cry in front of him. I think sisi wanted to cry too, but she didn't either. I think our backs must have been terrible too, because I remember being beaten really hard the day before, but I somehow don't remember anything else about it anymore or the day after or anything, and I wrote down nothing about it either, I don't know why.

But I said to the man, I said "Sir, we are good whores, we just want to shower and cuddle together, is there any way we could do that ?" He said "you won't be any trouble ?" and we all said "No sir" and I said "we're no trouble at all, we always do what we're told sir" and Doll said "we're just good little whores, sir, we're obedient and all we want is to please. But we smell bad and we miss each other". and he kinda looked at us and he said "alright, hang on" and then he left. He came back soon after and he said "I'm sorry dollies, but there's nothing doing. You'll have to be debriefed first". and we looked at each other and then we all said "Yes sir". Then he came in with the oat meal again, but this time there were raisins on top, and we had to lick it again because no spoons. So dogslave put it on the floor in front of her and she went on all fours and licked it like that, and I said that's a good doggy! and she did her happy Ruff! and pant like before and it made me so sad... Then the man said to me "why don't you eat it like that too ?" and I said I will sir, and put it down and got on all fours too, and then licked it and looked up at him and panted too. Then he looked at Doll and said "How about you ?" and she said "Yes sir" and did it too, and then he was just looking at sisi. She didn't say anything, just standing there holding her plate and licking at it, but then she went on all fours too, and we were all eating like dogs on the floor though really, the man didn't even tell us to do it, he really just asked. But really I liked it better this way, because it is a lot more humiliating and I pushed my ass out as much as I could and slowly turned around the plate so he could see me from behind. He started moving up and down in front of the cages, and then he said in his walkie, "What the hell, they've got buttplugs in ?!" and someone said "yeah man, they asked for them, it's in the overnight report" so he flipped through his clipboard and scratched his head. Then he came towards me and kicked me right in the bud with his boot, but very lightly, more like a pat, and he said "you're something else, aren't you!" but I just said ruff! ruff! and rubbed myself against his sole. It's strange what a slave will do in a cage, I almost never know what I'll do myself, and it's kinda surprising to remember, too, in one way, but then in the other it's like "of course! duh!"

Then he gave Doll a hobble to put on, and a thick fat belt for around her waist. Then he opened her cage, and told her to come out, where he strapped her arms behind her with the elbows straight into a long leather binding, and strapped that to her belt, which forced her tits way out. Then he attached a chain to her belt in front and walked her out. We were left behind, kinda missing her and dogslave just ran back and forth from me to sisi and we held hands and hugged and I told them that I love them and sisi asked what happens if they sell us to different people ? I told her that would be just terrible, and dogslave wanted to cry for the first time, but I said maybe you'll just be lucky and find a real Princess, way better than me, and they said they don't want one. We kept talking about it for a long time, I know it was about an hour or so but then in the hole it seemed forever. Then the man came to take me, but I had the hobble on already so he just got me out and put the belt and the bind on me and chained me up. I asked if I may kiss her goodbye meaning sisi, and he said ok, so for the first time we hugged and I told her not to be scared, because she will be left here by herself just for a little while, but it will be alright in the end and it's not goodbye and we shall see each other again. And I turned to the man and asked "isn't that true ?" and he said "For sure cutiepie, don't worry your sweet ass about it. You'll have it better than my wife". and then he dragged me out.

I walked behind him on his leash out the door and through a tunnel. I counted my steps, 218. We kept going by large metal doors and corridor entrances but eventually we came to one where he turned, and we went in. It was a different examination room, very strange. It didn't look at all like a doctor's room, but very much like the places where they took the witches back in the day. There was a man in a white coat just like a doctor, but on his head he had a strange thing with a long beak covering his face completely, and there were two big guys with him, topless, with big muscles on their arms and chest, and hoods on their heads just like executioners that killed witches. Behind them there was a big fire inside the wall, and that cast crazy shadows all around. The guy with the beak said "Oh, you're the famous babydoll, with the journal ?" and I kneeled and I said yes sir. He asked me "Are you a princess, babydoll ?" and I answered "no sir, I'm just a whore, just a slave whore that is all". But then he asked me "Were you a princess before ?" and I looked at him and I said "I thought maybe I might be, when I grew up, sir. My lovergirls told me I was all the time". So he asked me if I believed them, and I said I didn't know. Then he said, "That's fine babydoll. You're a very finely broken whore, I don't think you need any re-education at all. But since we're here, I'm going to show you all the instruments, and I will make you try some on. Would you like that ?" and I said "Yes sir. Will they hurt me, sir ?" and he said "Yes, that's the idea, torture is supposed to hurt". and I said "Yes sir".

He explained to me that the mechanicals are on my right, the electricals on my left, and the thermals right ahead. I said "I am so scared, sir. Please don't kill me". and he said to me there's nothing for a whore like me to be scared of, in this world. He said pain's not a big deal, not really, and death should not be a concern of mine, because while I live my death does not exist ; and if my death exists then I'm no more here to fret and worry about it. He asked me if it makes any sense to worry about things that don't exist ? But I told him "Sir, if I died my lovergirls will be so sad!" and he asked me if I want to live for them ? And I said I never lived for anything else. He said I shouldn't worry about him killing me, or anyone else, because women are never worth killing, they're always worth more alive than dead. He said "you're a woman, aren't you ?" and I said "I don't know, sir, I'm just a little girl". He put his fingers together from each hand, and then asked me who did I study with ? And I said nobody, except for Doll. And he asked if it was the girl just before ? And I said I think so. He nodded is head, and said "I want you to trust me, little girl. Do you trust me ?" and I said "Yes sir". Then he asked me if I will do everything he tells me to, and I said I will. Then he asked if I will do it because I trust him, or just because he tells me to, and I said because he tells me to. He told me he wants me to do it because I trust him, and I said I will. Such a strange thing, to climb on a torture rack because you trust the man who maybe came up with it or anyways used it lots and lots to hurt maybe thousands of girls before, maybe to hurt them really, really bad... But I trusted him, because he told me to.

First he put me on that rack, and he explained it to me, how it works, after I was helpless, strapped to it. He turned it himself to make me feel the pain, and then explained how much worse it can get, and then let me off. Then he showed me many more in the mechanical devices, the skull crusher, the thumb crushers, the vaginal pear, which is a thing that opens inside a girl's hole, and scratches her place where babies grow, so she dies from infection and very painfully, and the iron maiden which is like a closet with spikes that squeezes you in, and the many chairs with punishments in them, and many more things. He said I can't possibly have the pear, but that he recommends I try the thumb things a little. I said yes sir, and he put them on me. He turned until it hurt but it did not hurt so bad I wanted to cry. Then he asked me if I am curious about anything else there and I said I'd like my cunt to hurt sir. So the two men, they lifted me by my lower legs above this sharp edge so I could lower myself on it like riding a horse. It went right on my bud, and it hurt so bad. But he didn't let me have it for very long, he moved his hands quickly and they lifted me from there. Then I wanted to hurt in my feet, and they crushed them a little in two different machines, but it did not hurt me so bad. I thanked him very much for hurting me with love, and he said it's what I deserve, and what I've earned with my life so far.

Then he showed me the many ways to hurt with fire and burning things and hot oils and waxes and many things. He explained it but said it is out of the question I try out any. Then he showed me water things in a room further out, and I had to go on my back with my arms caught so I couldn't move away and he put a cloth on my face and poured water over it. It is so scary, you feel like you will drown, though of course the cloth doesn't let you drown, but you just think you're drowning forever. It's a good idea, too, because it's easy to do and safe, and I must remember it so we try it later ourselves.

Then we went to the electrics and here he said I must have the violet wand, and I am forbidden to move a single muscle. It was a very purple glass bowl with a glass handle, and it sort-of tickled me everywhere it touched. He played with it on my belly and thighs until I felt kinda tingly all over, then he used it on my breasts until my nipples were very sore, and then he told me to bend over and I did, but as he touched it to my cunt I felt if he doesn't stop I will definitely pee all over it, and he said "go right ahead". I tried to hold it in but eventually I couldn't keep myself, it was like a strange sort of having it, but with pee. When I lost it, the moment my pee touched the glass, I felt it all inside of me, like everything inside was just having it at the same time, and I couldn't stop peeing and the more I peed the more it squeezed and twisted me inside, I had it and had it and had it and then kept having it intense and crazy long after I was out of any pee. He said there are many machines for this, and even more for whores with their hole made in them, and that a whore can be killed just by making her have it so much, just for so very hard and so very long, and there's nothing she can do about it, because it's not really hers. I couldn't say anthing, they had to hold me up, I was just panting. Then I said "thank you sir" again and again.

Then he put me in a little cage, I had to lie on my back on a cold metal, just as wide as me, and just as tall, with thick cage bars all around, and then he put a lid on it which had a mirror facing me. It was a cage almost exactly my size, a little room extra at my feet but nothing else, and the mirror was close enough to my face I could lift my head to touch it. He asked me many many questions about everything, I don't remember them all, but I will write down what I remember. He asked me everything about my life, many many small things, like if I ever had a pet dog or anything, and if I killed anything even very little and I told him ants because I hate them and a frog once but it was an accident because I stepped on it because it jumped wrong. Then he asked me if I was sorry about the frog and I said kinda but really it should look where it is going and he said but whore, it can't see up and I said well sir, I can't see in my foot either! But I don't think he is right, because if frogs couldn't see up they'd have all been eaten long ago, but then Doll told me dogs can look up but they don't usually think to try and nobody ate them but I said to her "Who eats dog ?" and she said Spanish people.

Then he asked me why I hate ants, and I told him it's because they're so stupid, and they keep coming and coming wherever it is you don't want them to go and they always circle around like idiots and never go anywhere specific! Then he said "That's because they're slaves, whore. They do what they have to do". and I said "nuh-uh, ants aren't slaves" and he asked me how I know that and I told him because they couldn't do anything else anyway. So he asked me if I'm a slave and I said yes sir, and he asked me how come and I said because I love Doll and he said "So what else could you do ?" and I was going to say "just be a little girl" at first, but then I didn't say anything and then I said "You are right sir". But I still hate ants. And he asked me what I was going to say and I told him and that then I understood once Doll hugged me that day I could never do anything else. So he made me tell him all about it and then he asked me what about the other two little girls and I said they're slaves too and he asked me how come and I said because they love me. So then he said "so that makes you better than them, doesn't it whore" and I said it makes me better loved than them and I am sorry and he asked how come and I said because I don't know how to love properly. He asked me what do I mean by that and I said when Doll hugged me I was living with Mom. But I forgot about her. And before talking to you I was talking with Dad. But I forgot about him, too. I'm just a stupid whore that doesn't love properly and forgets about people. He asked me if it hurts me when he calls me whore and I said no sir, it makes me happy, because that's what I am. He said that he calls everyone that and I said I know and that's what I like about it. He asked me if I thought maybe ants also have little names for themselves, and I said I don't think so and can we talk about something else. It's just so stupid, going in a circle all the time because there's no choice, I know you can say words to make it look like that's what we do too, but it's a lie, because I could just be a stupid little girl if I wanted even if I think it's stupid and I don't want to I still could.

Then he said "You know, your Dad is ok. They took him to the hospital after you left but they let him go home the next day and he is ok now". but I didn't say anything. He asked me "do you miss your Dad ?" and I told him kinda but it is not true. I don't miss Dad at all. Why don't I miss him ? It's because I'm an evil whore, isn't it. It's true that I only really knew him a short time, but before that I missed him every day, every year, like every day more than once, many times I thought "I miss Dad!" and wanted to see him but it made Mom really upset if I said anything. And now I don't miss him at all. I miss Doll already, I was only in here an hour maybe but I miss Doll and my baes like I want to cry a little. But Mom I don't miss. I used to though, before Doll I missed Mom all the time, even when she was in the other room. And I told her on the phone, after, "Mom, I miss you". but I did not. I was lying to her because I did not want to think about it, but I never miss anyone because I just move on like an evil cheap whore that doesn't love anyone. I said to the man with the beak, "please sir, may I be punished ?" and he said oh little whore, you are punished already. Your punishment is that every man you ever meet will love you for what you most hate and despise about yourself. And I started to cry and he said "Forever" so I was crying really hard but he said "Now cut it out!"

It was really hard and I didn't want to stop, but I had to, even if it took some tries. I asked him, what will happen to me ? And he said "you will be sold, and you will love your Master, the man who buys you". I said "and after that ?" and he said "you will be sold again, and you will love your new Master, the man who buys you". and I asked forever ? and he said "Yes, slave. Forever". It is such a comfort to know that. I said to him "I will only love my new Master if you tell me to, Daddy". and he said that is right and as it should be. I think he is right, and that it is right, a real woman should give herself to whoever her owner tells her to. It is much better that way, although many girls think they can choose for themselves, but that's not real. It's just play pretend, all in their head, like a daydream. It's only real when you choose to have no choice. That is the only way to be any better than the ants at all.

Then he asked me if I ever felt all warm inside for a boy or a man maybe, and I said "No sir. I think I'm lesbian, maybe". He asked me why I think that, and I told him what happened, with the porn and what Doll said. He asked me if I wanted to be a lesbian and I said no sir. I told him all I wanted was to be a better whore, and a better lover, so that I hurt more, inside. He asked me if I want love to hurt me more ? And I said "It doesn't hurt me at all, sir. That's not right, is it ?" and he asked me why not and I told him I don't know, it just doesn't feel right. But he asked me if I know what a hummingbird is and I said sure, and he asked me how fast do their wings beat ? And I said it's very fast, like you can barely see them, and he asked me if I tried to flap my arms that fast, would they hurt ? I told him I'm sure they would, and he said do you think it hurts the little bird ? It's a good question, but I said to him "what if a little bird told you it does ?" which is very clever because people often say like that, "a little bird told me" when they just figured stuff out on their own. So he didn't say anything and then he said he's really curious what my IQ test tomorrow shows up because this just isn't normal.

So I asked him, "Do you love me, sir ?" and he said "Yes, I do. I have never been this seduced by a slave before, let alone a little girl. You're making it impossible for me to do my job, really the only reason I go on is because I don't know anyone who'd be any better at it, or how". but I said to him "what about a woman ?" and he said "Yeah, right, you'd walk out of here with a new slave. You're irresistible, cunt". So I asked him if it is because of my cunt that I'm irresistible and he said no, it's because I'm perfect, in every way, and perfectly honest to top it all. I asked him if that's good but he said "Do you ever want to hurt people ?" and I told him not really, so he said "well that's our only saving grace". I asked him what is a grace and he said it's when you get really lucky, but it's not right. A grace is when the light from outside shines right through you into the cave. He said to me "Little girl, people are like ants before you. Anything you want to do to them, you can, you will be able to. Especially when you grow older, but even now. Everyone is very lucky those muppets found you, and so you were brought here in time. We will take care to make your life good and fitting, so you never learn to hate people. It's the blessing of all time that you lived this long and never learned to". and I asked him what does he mean, but he said "Remember the Little Miss Sunshine ?" and I said just "Oh". and he said to me "You have to help, Princess. You have to do your part. You have to help us help you never learn to hate people. Promise, and swear". and I said "How do I even do that ?!" and he said "You must stay out of the way, you must always get out of the way and absolutely never go looking for it" and I asked "Stay out of the way of what ? What it ?" and he said "The sort of thing, the sort of situation where you learn to hate people". So I said "Oh, I never do that anyway". but he said "No, you warn them, you expect them to get out of your way. You stand your ground, and it is dangerous, because there's nothing more stupid than people, they have no idea what's going on or what words mean or what will happen, but they always think they do", and I said "Oh", but he said "Promise!" and I said "You want me to promise I'll always run away ?!" and he said no, he wants me to promise that I will bend, always, that I will let it go over me. He said I already feel it, inside, the dark pleasure, the joy of trampling myself under it.

I said to him "old man, you know too much". I really don't know why I said that, I mean what sense does it even make, but he was scared and he said "Forgive me, Princess". I really wasn't expecting that. But I said to him, "Let them work for their living too, why not ? Just like everyone else". and he said "May the good lord take mercy on our souls".

Then we were silent a long time and then I asked "Will you split us up ?" and he said "No". I asked how come and he said it would be just a stupid thing to do, but I said "You work for money, no ? What if it's more money in the parts ?" but he said it makes no difference, we're a windfall anyway, who cares about getting a little more money when a lot of money just walks over by itself and knocks on your door. So I said to him "Promise. And swear". but he said "The owner is coming to meet you, you can ask him to kiss your feet and everything else you want. Meanwhile I will cross out where it says 12 yo female and write out Divine Avatar instead", which means he thinks I'm a goddess. I think he maybe even wrote that for real, because he crossed something out harshly and wrote in his notes, and then he said "There's another thing, Princess". I took a deep breath and I said "Yes sir ?" He said I will be given a special treatment now, I will go to a vat, and there they will put a substance, like a mud on me, and that it contains a poison, a deadly poison, that seeps in through the skin. And I will have to lay there in that mud and let it seep into me all thorough and everywhere until I am saturated with it. And that I will know, because it gives a sweet taste in the mouth, very faint. I asked him "are you killing me now ?" and he said "Not yet. You will receive the antidote every day. Maybe". I asked him, "And if I don't take the antidote, I die ?" and he said "You have forty hours or so, it means you can almost skip one day. But it will get real bad towards the end". My tears came. I was so happy! I said "Thank you so much, sir". He was silent for a long time, and then he said "You're thanking me... you're..." but I told him, I said it's just like the hobble, only better. It's the best thing, I wish I knew how this is done because it's just the greatest thing!

He didn't say anything but the two big men lifted the lid off me and lifted me out of the box cage and led me out. We went through the tunnels a little bit but I forgot to count the steps, and then we turned left and we went into a spa! Doll was there, on the side of the jacuzzi, and she was so happy to see me! She said "Babydoll!" and I tried to run to her but it was hard with the hobble and I nearly fell, but she caught me in her arms. The two men left and closed the door behind them, and Doll said "Oh, you filthy, stinking, lovely girl!" and kissed my mouth and face many times. I told her "My colics are the worst". She said "Oh, let me help you out of this" but I said "No Doll, let me have it longer, it feels so helpless and so good inside". and she said "Yes Princess". Then we talked about what was in the room, I told her what we said. At some point she had an idea, she took hair pins from the shelf and put them on my nipples first, and then even on my bud. It hurt so bad, especially between my legs, I felt like the time I choked on cock, except it wasn't with air, but with fire, it made a warm sweetness rise up from my belly through my chest. And she told me if you move them they hurt even more, so I told her to move them when I felt it dull.

I asked her if she thinks I'm evil, and she said no Babydoll, but I told her the man was scared of me, and she said of course, men are always scared of whores. Then I told her about the poisoned mud, and she looked at me with real big eyes and said, oh no! Babydoll do you want to try to run away from here ? And I said no Doll, don't be silly, I wouldn't miss this for anything. She asked me if I wasn't affraid but I explained to her about the hobble, and how good it feels, and how happy it makes me to know it will be forever. Doll was just shaking her head and crying a little, and then took me by the shoulder into where this round shower cabin was hidden from the jacuzzi, and laid down on the floor on her back and said "Please Princess, sit your dirty cunt on my face and let me lick it clean for you". I was like yay! because omg, this made my day, the happiest day of my life. As I was kneeling myself down she said "And please pee once you're having it, pee on my face while you're having it Princess". She licked the hairpin off my bud, which really is called a clit, but I like to call it bud better. It hurt a lot, and then she licked me real good everywhere, and when I had it I let my pee go but I only had very little because of the purple glass. Doll licked it off the floor and rubbed her face in it, and told me she wanted it so bad, so bad, like ever since the day in the hotel with dogslave in the middle, she wanted so bad to just jump in there and push her face into my flow. I told her she's making me the happiest whore in the world, and she said Princess please let me be your slave. Please. But I said to her "You know you'll always be the boss of me, lovely Doll" and she said "No, no, let me be your slave like sisi and dogslave" and I said Ok! But on one condition. She asked what and I said I will tell you later, you have to agree but not know what it is. She told me she agrees to anything, and that I made her the happiest whore in the world too, and then she took my wrap and everything off except my hobble, and she had to take my stone out and wash it herself too, because I could sit on the toilet but my arms were much too sore to reach it. Then we showered, and then we hugged in the jacuzzi and then I told her. I said Doll, please let me kiss you. She looked at me, and she said "But Babydoll..." but then I said "You promised, slave". So she did! She sat on the edge and opened her beautiful legs wide and I kissed Doll for the first time on this day, and I will never forget it. I love Doll. I never wanted anything so much like I wanted to kiss her. I am so happy and so grateful that she let me do it finally, at long last. I will never forget how good it felt, how whole, how well my tongue fit into her and how good she tastes inside. Then someone came in.

Continued >>

« Babydoll and the facts of life

Princess Babydoll and the lures of captivity »

Category: Cuvinte Sfiinte

Sunday, 08 November, Year 12 d.Tr.

Princess Babydoll and the snotty bitch club.

Friday September the 24th. Sylvia's car is now broken completely because she left it outside with the blinkers on all day and that drains the battery and electric cars don't have a lot of battery like normal human cars and if it ever drains completely they are destroyed. So I told her electric cars are stupid and she said god damn it and Doll said before we rescued her she had no idea what anything is and kept doing stupid shit and Sylvia said kiss my ass bitch! It can go in reverse as well as forward! but Doll went over and kissed her ass. Then Dad said he'll buy her a cheap beat-up red neck pick-up truck until she gets enough money together to get herself a better car and Sylvia started chewing her own hair and everyone was laughing.

Then we went to school and it was C.R.A.Z.Y. Like apparently Dad had Doll talk to almost everyone's parents which is like thousands of people I have no idea how she did that and there is now a new school policy about the gym and showers and all the seniors know my name and like twenty different girls that are going to highschool next year came up to me and said Hey! and like all the ones that are in Chris and Key's gymnastics but never before talked to them because they are older think I'm great now because of what I did and even Mr. Coach which I don't even know his name but dogslave says it's Kramer did thumbsup from across the field when we went by and Chris was like omg!!! And then in cafeteria when we came in everyone stopped eating and looked at us and then they slow clapped! I was like holy shit I should take my clothes off more often! I told Dad about it but he said Babydoll, that doesn't last. It'll never be as good as that first time ever again. That made me a little sad but I think maybe he is right.

So we are now sitting at the best tables wherever we want people kept making us place and things, even the drama girls that never want anyone new sitting at their tables were pushing around for us to sit at their table it was incredible. I think maybe I am going to take up drama. I told Sylvia about it and she said it sounds like a great idea and Doll said so too. But dogslave said drama is stupid and I should take up gymnastics but what does she know anyway. And Chris told me that Doll invited her and her parents to our weekend trip to Mt Wilson observatory but her parents can't go because they have to go to church of course and her dad didn't want her to go either and he said what does she even want with that little jezbel meaning me, and meaning that I am a whore but Jesus people can't say it directly and I told her bitch I'm no whore, you're a whore. I'm a pimp! And she said yes Babydoll but do you want to tell my daddy ? And I didn't say anything but then she said her mom was like we can't not let her go Jeremiah! Chris' dad's name's not really Jeremiah either, it's John, but he's weird and I guess that's the best he could find for a naked name, Jeremiah. If Marla were my slave I'd make her naked name be Jeremiah and I'd make everyone beat her alllll the time like until her butt fell off on the floor. And then I'd be like, "Jeremiah, looks like you laid an atomic egg. Bitch!" and everyone would laugh at Marlamade and her runny butt. So Chris can come because her mom said that it's an astronomical observatory and what will those people think but her dad was like it's all devil's work anyway, there is nothing like astronomy it is all witchcraft. I asked Doll what witchcraft is and she showed me pictures about it from long ago and she explained a lot of things but basically it is what we do so I guess we should go to the astronomical because we are witches. And maybe I should try burning Chris at the steak. I wonder how you do that.

But of course we are not going there because it's just a boring mountainside and Doll just made it up but instead we are going to a private party in Burbank and me and dogslave have fake IDs for being eighteen and she asked me if she can wear the faro dress which is what she said her golden Gucci dress is and I said I'll think about it but of course I'll let her wear it but I just want her to kiss my ass all the time until then. The party is all Saturday but we are going to get to the hotel any time we feel like it today and sleep there overnight because Dad got a large suite with many beds so that way we don't have to deal with the traffic and can enjoy the brunch part and everything. It's in honor of a guy who is a criminal! Because what he did was he had sex with his wife's twelve year old daughter! So they found out but only much later and also I think he didn't pay any taxes, but he is a guy who makes films but he is not an actor so I don't know what sense this makes, maybe he's just a guy everyone says made the film they're in so they can't get in trouble for it. But when she saw dogslave in her faro dress Chris started to cry and said she wanted to be my slave too and she hates her parents. But I told her they're not even black! And she said it's worse because all the Jesus bullshit! And I think really she may be right, black people are much cooler than all that stuff with the church and jeremiah. Even though they are poor.

I don't know what I am going to wear myself because I don't have anything that's nearly as good as dogslave's but then I looked at Chris and she looked at me and it was holy hell, what is she going to do, show up at her first party in her life in school clothes ?! So we went through the closets and you can not believe this but most of Doll's dresses work for Chris because her boobs are huge I never realised before but Chris has boobs as big as Doll! And Doll has really large boobs, like bigger than a cupful. And then Doll came in and she was like wut! Are you doing ?! And we were look Doll, this whore's got boobs as big as you! And then they measured and it was right, and they're only one inch different in height because Doll is taller but of course Doll can put high heels on but Chris can't because she doesn't have any and also doesn't know how to walk in them and also her feet are huge. Her feet are bigger than anyone's, there's no heels in the house that are even close to her size, she's like a sasquatch. And Doll called her Tits McGee which was kinda funny and maybe it's her naked name too!

Then Doll asked me what are you going to wear Babydoll and I said I have no idea, because if I let dogslave wear her faro I have nothing nearly as good as that and Doll said well then you shouldn't let her wear it and dogslave was so sad but she nodded and I was like hm just to mess with her but of course she can wear it I don't care if everyone thinks she's my pimp. Then we went over and busted down Sylvia's door who pretended to be shocked and ashamed because she was just coming out of the shower and then Doll explained to her about dressing me and Sylvia said of course I don't have anything nearly as good, dogslave's the hottest package in town and we'll all have to learn to live with that. But Doll said there's always a prettier girl, just look what happened to me, three weeks ago I was the hottest package on the premises and Sylvia said you have only yourself to blame honey. And we kept messing around but eventually it was getting dark and we settled on a dark purple dress for Chris which is great for her because her skin is so white she's like a coffee mug and her tits are so big they're perfect because this dress is one of those with the things for the breasts to show. She looks just great in it and definitely eighteen. And for me we picked a very good thing which is a dress almost exactly the color of my skin and all covered in pearls and very snugly fit so it looks from a distance like I'm naked completely. Dad told us there is to be no shenanigans or horse play of any kind whatsoever anywhere at the party, except in the hotel room we can be naked but only with the door closed so this is the closest it can ever get. I would just love to take it all off in front of all those people though! But I promised Dad I won't and I will just wait until I'm older and the whoremones really kicked in.

Then we all went naked because Sylvia said that's how the pros do it, after the outfits are chosen you do your hair and make-up naked and then you dress so it's perfect. I think she was just messing around, because we can't do makeup for tomorrow now. But we chose outfits for the brunch tomorrow too and for getting there of course and showered together and then they played panty sniffer which is when you close your eyes and have to guess whose panties they are. dogslave said Chris is easy, hers smell of soap and Doll put her finger on Chris and smelled it and said Chris why don't you rinse properly and Chris didn't know and so Doll sent her to rinse properly and told her that she will get irritated if she leaves soap in there and not to do it. Doll is such a boss bitch. Then we got dressed and everything packed and got in the limo and went over to the hotel. When we checked in there was a package delivered for Mz. Pizdi Curgol which made no sense but Doll gave it to Chris saying "here you go honey" and inside was her ID. She's Pizdi Curgol from Pasadena, aged 18! Dad told us we are allowed to hold glasses but not drink from them ever under any circumstances, me and dogslave and Chris Pizdi McGee I really have to find this bitch a naked name already. And I said ok Dad, I promise I won't drink, I promise I won't take my clothes off, I promise I won't do anything. Can I talk to people ? And he said you'd better not. Just listen to what they say and say "Oh, really ?" "Wow that's so interesting" and stuff like that. And make it sound convincing! he said. I was looking at him like wtf but Sylvia grabbed me by the shoulders and said your Daddy's right Babydoll, that's the way it is for women, you'd better get used early and practice hard. Think of it as drama practice. That's when I understood she is actually serious. So the whole party I'm just going to keep my clothes on and carry drinks around the room and say wow really. What a stupid role. Why did I ever accept this ?!

Then we went up to our suite which was fabulous and very plush and with flowers everywhere. It even had a hot tub built into the livingroom! Dad and Doll and Sylvia went to their room and we were in our room and I just fell on the bed, closed my eyes and told my whores to undress me and make me have it until I pass out. And they did.

Saturday September the 25th. We dressed for brunch and went down and there were lots and lots and lots of people there, most of them very old. But they are some of the best old people ever, they've all been all over the world like before Burbank was even invented! And they all did things but not small things like being a school principal or anything because they were all famous and had so many interesting things to say! Last night I thought it would suck to just say oh really and wow that's so interesting but really I had nothing else to say all morning because it was all so wow and interesting! I don't know what Sylvia was bitching about all sarcastic, maybe that bitch is just jealous she's not twelve anymore.

I will now write down all the interesting things I remember. So, many things like music videos are not really made like you see but the singer is just in a room with green walls and everything in there is added later, like she doesn't even see the stuff going on around! People can own a film, like it is their film, like their bycicle. There is a Hollywood in India and it is called Bollywood. There was once an emperor of the United States and his name was Emperor Norton. There is a lot of very old music that is written for little boys who had their wee wees cut off to sing! There was a time when nobody was allowed to drink alcohol and everyone made a lot of money from it. There are all sorts of people who ate another person, like for dinner. Women didn't even use to shave their armpits a few years ago, and also they can grow moustaches. Like under the nose. There was a big wall in Europe and they shot people on it, and there is an even bigger one in China. Maybe it's time we build our own! Jewish people think god made a deal with them. All fruit trees originally come from a country called `Iran, except for the pineapple and the banana. There was a lot more but I have to go into the hot tub now.

So we all went into the hot tub, me dogslave Chris and Sylvia and Doll too! Hot tubs are a lot of fun and this one was big and spacious and we played dunking and things. Then Doll said all funny-like "oh no, I feel a tickle coming on" and she looked at me, and then she looked at dogslave, and then she said "oh, oh" and sat up on the rim and spread her legs wide. Then she said "hey dogslave, why don't you come here and help me with it" and then she looked at me and said "Is that ok Babydoll ?" and I said "sure, go help Doll dogslave" so she went between her legs, and kissed her but Doll just peed on her! Like, squirt! And we all started laughing and stood up on the rim like Doll and were "help her dogslave, help her" and Doll kept squiring in her face. And then when Doll was done we all were like "oh, oh" and dogslave had to help everyone pee on her face with kisses and Doll got out and got us all drinks so we have a lot of tickles. It was hysterical and dogslave even snorted some at some point and got it on her tits and in her hair and everywhere. Then she stood up and peed herself, and Doll bend over and tasted it a little. I asked her what's it taste like and Doll said it's warm, and salty, and it tastes like love. So Sylvia kissed her on the mouth and me and Chris kissed dogslave to see what it tastes like and it's not bad at all! Doll's right, because the taste of it filled me with love for dogslave. Then we all went to shower but I asked her later what does mine taste like and she said it tastes like she loves me. We have to do this more often because it is so lovely and such a great feeling to love someone.

Then we got dressed and put our slave stones in and went to the party. Doll left a note for the housekeepers to change our tub water haha. The party wasn't really as great as the brunch, but it was ok. The guest of honor came straight to Chris, and told her she's lovely and beautiful and things like that. Chris told him she is here with her date, and pointed at me. I waved like "hello!" and he was really blown away but he tried to play it cool and said to me that the two loveliest beauties of the night should be together. Then later he was talking to dogslave who was by herself with the food plate things, because that girl can eat! I saw her point to me again and he looking at me like wtf and I waved again. So he came over again and asked me if I'm a pimp ? Chris was giggling and I said yes sir, that is exactly what I am. I'm a pimp. And he said I'm the best he's ever met. I asked him if he met a lot ? And he mumbled something and then looked at me and then at Chris and then back at me, and Chris kinda cuddled into my side and he just opened and closed his mouth and then walked away. dogslave came over to see what was going on and Chris said I think our pimp scared away the criminal guy! And we all giggled and he looked back and he looked so sad!

I told dogslave and Chris "I really want to taste my whores. Don't you want to go upstairs ?" and they said yeah, the party is kinda boring, so we went and found Dad who was with some people and Sylvia was telling a story, and we told him if it's ok to go upstairs and he said sure. We went to the elevator but dogslave grabbed a bottle of the wine with bubbles in it on her way which was a great idea! But first I put my face between dogslave's legs and we did the triangle that way with Chris kissing me ; then we turned the other way after everyone had it. They taste so good, especially Chris since she's stopped leaving soap in. Then we poured the wine on each other and licked it off, it was very good and we all got drunk and went to sleep together happy.

Sunday September the 26th. I woke up and Chris was holding me in her arms with my face on her Doll boobs and dogslave was curled with her head on my butt. I think it was pretty early but my belly hurt like someone was twisting a big knife in there and I needed to fart, so I was like... sorry dogslave, hold your breath. But nothing came out. I got very scared because who knows what happened and maybe I am paralyzed because of the alcohol now like it happened to people to go blind when they drank alcohol when it was illegal before, but then I realised... I never took my slave stone out! So I wiggled out of the whores embrace and tiptoed to the bathroom, but my stone wouldn't come out! But I remembered what Doll told me and I tried to work it out little by little and patiently, and eventually it exploded out of me, and I felt like half my body fell out through my poor asshole in one go! I had to look down and see I still have a chest! But I was okay really, the pain went away and it was just that, because I had forgotten the stone in. I went into the shower and after I turned the water on dogslave showed up. She was all sleepy but she kneeled by the shower curtain and panted with her tongue out. I grabbed her by the shoulders and hugged her tight and started crying. She asked me "why are you crying Ma'am ?" and I told her it's just because I love her so much! And Chris and Doll and Sylvia and everybody. She gave me a big kiss on the mouth and sat herself on the toilet. Just as she exploded in a massive dog fart Chris came in. She was all like "omg I forgot my stone in, what can happen" but then she was like "ewwww!". Then we all started laughing.

Breakfast was just fabulous, I don't know what all those things were but they were much better than what we maked at home. Doll said maybe she should look more seriously into this whole cooking thing. Dad said that's an idea, and Sylvia was like I'd eat your shit, bitch. We laughed and we laughed, it was so funny. Then dogslave told about the criminal guy and I told it too and we had a blast about it. Then Dad and Sylvia left together because they had shit to do and meetings and things and Doll was going to take us back home before noon and check out. But we were finished with breakfast and packing even before eleven. I love packing as a pimp, I just sat on the armchair and drank milk coffee while my bitches did all my packing for me. It's great! Then in the car Doll said hey girls, how about we actually go to that observatory ? It's not that far. Chris and dogslave looked at me for what I say but I could tell they kinda wanted to check it out, so I was sure Doll! And we went and it's actually pretty interesting, you buy a ticket and you get to go under these humongous cannons which are for seeing very far away, and also they are very old like from before gangsters were even invented! And then we went hiking in the hills a little until it was evening and then we went back to the car and Doll said alright well let's drop Chris off then ? And Chris cried and we hugged her and we kissed her mouth and petted her hair and hugged her but she was still sad. Then I asked Doll what does Dad do to to her and Sylvia ? And she asked me what do I mean but I said you know what I mean and she said oh. Well Babydoll she said, your Dad is a man, so he has his manhood, which is like a corn cobb, and he puts it in us. "What do you mean in you ? Like the stones go in ?" I asked her, and she said yes, sometimes he does us like that, it's called assfucking, when he puts it in there. But many times he just does us between the legs, normally. But I said how do you mean normally Doll, there's no hole there. I thought maybe she meant her pee hole gets big, but no, she told me that first the man has to make the hole in you, and then you have the hole. Wow! What a concept, he makes the hole in you! Then I asked her if it is painful when he does it normally in your hole that he made, but she said not at all, it works very well. He pounds you hard and you like it very much, or he does it softly and you want him even more. And then she said they also suck on it like it's a popsickle which is good for him, and often they do all these, like Sylvia sucks his corn and then he fucks Doll with it or vice versa or sometimes he goes in and out of the both of them or whichever way he likes.

Then dogslave was like Fuck! and we were wtf and she said you can't drop her off like this, pointing to Chris. She was dressed in the brunch outfit we had for her! And I was like o shit, and I asked her, "Chris, where are your clothes you came with!" and she was all pale and whispered "I don't know." So Doll had to park the car and we went through the bags but eventually found them, so Chris had to change and because she was naked in the back seat we gave her a goodbye kissing. Doll had the roof down and the low Sun looked like gold in Tits hair and Doll was smiling and dogslave was smiling too and Chris had her eyes closed and her pretty mouth quivered.

When we were at her place her parents invited us in for a moment, and Doll said with pleasure but just for a moment because Keysha's parents will be worried as it is getting dark soon and she is living very far away. Chris mom nodded her head like "very far away" had some secret meaning Doll was communicating to her and Jebediah wouldn't come down to say hello, so we had some awful lemonade and then left. Chris mom says a lot of really stupid things for no reason just because she thinks you'll be impressed to hear her say them. I don't know how Chris can live with her. They should have to pay money for Chris to live there with them!

Then dogslave unpacked all my things and hers, and then came into bed with me, but I was half asleep. Then Doll also came in and asked if she may sleep with us girls because she's all alone. I said sure Chris and then I was asleep.

Continued >>

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Babydoll is not a princess anymore. »

Category: Cuvinte Sfiinte

Monday, 02 November, Year 12 d.Tr.

Princess Babydoll and the pleasure of pain

Tuesday October the 5th. Doll was just by herself at breakfast looking all melancholy which is how you say very sad that can't be fixed. Because many times when whores are sad you can fix it for them easy, but not melancholy. I asked her where Dad is and she said he's left her to be with that Sylvia slut but I could tell she's just messing because that's just how Doll is, she likes to play pretend a lot but she likes to just say something all normal and not tell anyone she is pretending but you have to guess and play with her which I like to do very much and also she does it back if I say something to mess with people she's right there with me! It is the most fun thing in the world and also it is very Platonic, because you have to think about what everthing means very fast and what is possible and how come, which is a lot of fun also.

I whistled my whores because we have a whistling now and they know they have to come running when they hear it so sisi and dogslave were like wut? and I said look at this old whore down on her luck! She is all alone and by herself because she has no one to love her anymore because everyone left and forgot about her! And sisi started crying and dogslave leaped over to Doll and kneeled on all fours and was nuzzling her knees and I said no bitches, she has to pay for her crimes! Then I said to Doll "Why did you complain to Daddy when we were in the big bedroom, bitch ? You know we deserve it and you don't!" and sisi went over there and was hugging her and crying and said "please Princess don't punish her, she is so sad!" and Doll said "I am sorry Princess but I did not do anything. Sylvia came home after you went to bed and she went into our bedroom but saw you were asleep there and she came to your room then and got in bed with me. Then Daddy also came after that and we had to sleep on the floor in your room because we are dumb bitches and we let a bunch of twelve year olds walk all over us!" But I said to her "That's what you deserve!" and she said she knows it and dogslave and sisi were looking at me with big eyes and hugging her and I said then to Doll "you will have to be punished more!" and she said "I am sorry Princess" and I said "Where's your Daddy now ?" and she said "I don't have a Daddy. I don't have anybody. I am all alone." and I just laughed at her ha-ha-ha! and did a twirly dance. Then dogslave crawled over to me and whispered in my ear "Please Babydoll why are you doing this to her, she is so good!" and I told her in secret that it is just playing and Doll knows it too and she is having fun but don't ask her because it will ruin it for her. And dogslave was smiling and all happy and she said "Oh Doll Ma'am, you're in trouble now!" and Doll said "oh no! but I really have to take you darlings to school!" and I said "Oh no you don't. You're not getting off that easily! You have to call school and say we are sick!" and sisi said "How can all three of us be sick on the same day ?" and Doll said "Do I have to ?" and I said "If you know what's good for you!"

So Doll called the office at school and told them Saturday there was her wedding party and there was a problem with the catering and unfortunately Ashley Keysha and Christine all have the stomach flu pretty bad but it was worse yesterday and worst Sunday but now it is getting better so she thinks they should be ok tomorrow." and that she doesn't want to make us go to school today and Mrs. Plowski said no problem and wished us speedy recovery! Like...wow! But I said "Doll omg we were in school yesterday and we were ok!" and she said "Yeah, and who knows that ?" and I said "What do you mean" and she said "Weren't you not in class because of that TV thing ?" and I was just wow! She didn't mean nobody saw us, she means nobody that matters saw us because the teachers didn't and even if they did what are they going to do, invite Mrs. Plowski over for coffee to tell her ?! This is what Doll figures out just like that she didn't even have to think about it or anything and she always knows what to say. I think she might be the smartest person on earth and when I grow up I wish I was half as smart as Doll!

But it also made me jealous a little bit and I really wanted to hurt her for it for real, so I said "Now you have to tell us your first name, like your old dressed name from before Doll and Candi so we can all make fun of you for how stupid it is and so you can't be a slave anymore." and she started crying and she said "Please Babydoll, would you do that to me, I love you." and I said "then why did you tattle you bitch!" and she said "No Babydoll please I did not tattle please believe me and I am your stone sister remember." and I was trying hard not to cry but it was impossible and I just said you know Doll I am only doing it because you like being hurt when you are sad and she asked me if I don't like hurting people a little bit too ? And I wanted to say no but I had to say kinda and then we were all crying and hugging and I felt like I was a wet rag someone twisted and all drained like my whores made me have it 500 times in a row. And then when she came to kiss me goodnight Doll whispered in my ear secretly that her stupid name was Melissa but I will never tell it to anyone but I think it is a very pretty name.

Then Doll had to go shopping for things and we couldn't go with her because we had to lay low because of school so we all went to the den but didn't play any games or watch any films or anything only we talked about life and sisi told me she is talking to Sylvia on insta and Sylvia really is in Paris! So we talked to Sylvia a little bit but she had to go to sleep because it was very late there because it is different times in different places all day long but she was very happy to see us on her phone! And then we got to talking and took off our school clothes and just hugged in the living room on the carpet and cried and it was sad because dogslave misses her sisters a little even though she loves us very much and sisi is thinking of her mom and I am thinking of my mom too. And dogslave said maybe if we asked Dad to move us far away it would not be so bad but I said then we'd have to make new friends in school and know all the teachers and Doll maybe wouldn't know what to say so well anymore and sisi said where could we move this is the best place in the whole country and I think maybe she is right.

sisi showed us many pictures of the princess from before that was also sisi but really she is nowhere near as pretty. And people back then hadn't discovered being naked yet, so she is always dressed in these carpets they wore around back then. Those would be pretty cool in soccer if you could have one because then you really could goalkeep everything. But I think they have regulations against it. And even though we never saw the older sisi naked I still told sisi she is probably much prettier than her because it is hard to be prettier than sisi! And dogslave said what about me ? And I said dogslave, you are a black girl, you can't be pretty because you are hot. And sisi asked if hot is better than pretty and I said they're just different but sisi said she would like it if it were better! And dogslave said Doll is a little black too and I say she is pretty all the time and I said that's because she is also a little bit white! And doglsave said Doll is the best way to be like a little bit of everything and I said how about Sylvia, she has a career! And she goes to Paris by herself! and dogslave said that's hot and we all laughed. Because it's a joke because of this ugly white girl that keeps wanting to be a princess on TV but nobody cares about her except she had a slave named Kim who is pretty and hot and now everybody loves her although I don't know if Kim is her school name or her naked name because she is naked too sometimes.

And dogslave said she wishes she could be pretty too, and I said too bad you can't, and sisi nuzzled her like dogslave does and I said look dogslave, sisi can be a puppydog also! and dogslave said ruff! and sisi tried to but her ruff is kinda not credible and I said dogslave you can be pretty too because you are! And then I said but sisi can't be hot and they said ok although it is not true because really sisi is the hottest of all of us she is hotter than most girls with naked careers. Then we made ourselves floats for slut breakfast which is like a normal breakfast except you can only eat sweets for it, and we did running competitions through the house and then we had another slut breakfast and then we did naked PE like in school only much better because in school the teacher just tells you what to do but we put PE girls from the Internet on the big TV and did what they did but it was sometimes very hard but it is ok because they were all in leotards and things and we were naked. One thing to do is put your spot right on the carpet with your legs one in front of you all straight and one behind, and dogslave can do it easy even if she is standing up she can do it with one leg on the floor and one leg way up past her head and it opens her flower up and you can kiss her bud easy this way but then she loses her balance. And sisi can also do it just as well as dogslave almost, because they are both in gymnastics, but I can't do it at all! It made me so sad and I wanted to punish them but I can not punish them for being good and because I am jealous but it made me so angry that I couldn't do it. They said remember what Doll always said and to sisi too, it has to work in slowly and don't force yourself too harshly but I just wanted them to punish me for not being able to do it like them! But dogslave didn't want to punish me just help me get better and we practiced lots and lots but it is very hard and eventually my legs hurt inside from it. But we will practice it again!

Then Doll came back and asked what have we been doing and we told her we had breakfasts and slut PE all day long in homeschool and she said you sugar fiends you know you're not supposed to eat so many sweets and I said but Doll, we didn't eat everything though we kinda did and Doll made us do math problems while she cooked lunch and they were all hard but I knew them all and dogslave almost but sisi din't know many and Doll said hey sisi why didn't you ever say anything and she said she didn't know she was so bad at it which is true because I also knew they are going to the gym but I didn't know I was so bad like I can't even do the simplest of the things they do and I asked Doll if she can stand like dogslave and Doll asked how is that and dogslave showed her and sisi too and Doll was like holy shit I can't do that! And I told her me either and we all agreed we will practice every day because we must all do it, and we will help sisi with math because it isn't that hard, you just have to practice and think about it. And Doll said you should always say when you are bad at things so the others can humiliate you and make you better and sisi said yes Ma'am and that she will.

So then we all made lists of what we are bad at and I will copy them here because I want to remember. sisi said "Hi I am sisi Babydoll's slave whore and I am 12 years old since April and I am very bad at doing math problems and coming up with things to say to people that I don't know so well and also at saying things in languages except English and spelling." and it is true because she had many words spelled wrong like even spelling she writes slepping so at first I thought it was sleeping and I laughed because how can anyone be bad at that but Doll said lots of people are bad at sleeping and dogslave asked "because they kick you in their sleep ?" and Doll said no, because they just can't fall sleep or stay asleep and then they're like zombies. Being bad at sleeping would be terrible!

dogslave wrote down "This dogslave doesn't know many things like French and also Geography and Politics or how to make breakfasts very well and about Computers." and then I read their lists and they asked me "but Babydoll aren't you writing your list too ?" and I said no because I am Princess and I am perfect in every way! and they wanted to say that is bullshit and not fair or something, I could tell! But they didn't say anything just yes Ma'am and Doll too! But I said I was just kidding, and really I am very bad at not being jealous and angry and I don't know what tricks Dad does and Doll and also I am very bad at gymnastics and at having big tits like Doll and sisi and at giving foot rubs and sisi took her list back and corrected it to say "spelling and footrubs" instead of just spelling and I said I am also bad at kissing a girl's bud and it is true that dogslave is much better than me and even than sisi and Doll said dogslave is incredible and Sylvia said this too, long ago back when she was still here and I think that's why she kissed her butthole too! Also because Doll forced her to but let's be real, if Sylvia didn't really want to do it Doll would not have really forced her. Sylvia is really bad at doing what she doesn't want to do but so am I and only Doll is good at it. She is so good at it I can't believe even! But sisi is also pretty good at it and dogslave too.

Doll told us to get the big pool floater into the pool and we were like owww it's cold Doll but she said no it will be fun because the pool itself is warm and we will put lunch on the floater and eat it swimming and she took her clothes off too and that's what we did! And we had soup which is when you boil veggies and things in water and is pretty good then chicken with pasta which is what you call noodles properly in Italian which is what these were, Doll showed me that it says things in Italian on the box and it's not like French because there's not all the accents over the letters like French is full of. I think Italian may be even better a language and Doll says it's much older too! Like people from Rome which is the town of Italian had their own founding fathers two housand years ago which is ten times as much! Isn't that crazy ? It's really great eating in the pool but you have to be careful and do dunkings and things like that further away because otherwise your whole lunch could sink!

Then we were done and got out of the pool and it was really cold and we were shivering and had the bumps but Doll is a little bitch and kept making us go back out for all sorts of pretexts which is what you call things that are bullshit and even made us get in the pool so we'll be wet again when we come out and things like that! And I knew what she was doing and I think dogslave too but I let her do anything to me because she's better than me and also smarter. Then we all got in the shower together which is so much fun and we set it too very steamy but then Doll later just sorta turned the knobs with the back to them while she was talking and it made the water all cold and we were all squealing but nobody got out because we're tough bitches all.

After the shower I wanted to check out more things about Italian and I did it on the computer in the den and the big screen was still hooked to it so you could see everything and we just hung out with sisi and dogslave and talked because there were many interesting things in there but then I clicked on where it said "Italians do it better" and it was wow! It was like slut PE but not just girls but men also and especially their corn cobbs though really it looks nothing like that because a real corn cobb has rows of corn on it but these do not and also a real corn cobb is smaller at the tip but these are like a special pattern that is thicker at the tip and looks like one of those funny sweet bread churches. Doll says the man's corn is really called a penis though dogslave says it's called a dick and sisi says it's called a cock and I said it looks more like a salami really.

It was crazy and I was like whoa! because the men were forcing their salamis into the whores' holes all hard and it was something else and I yelled out Hey Doll come check this out! And she came over and was like oh. "That's porn, Babydoll" and I asked her what is it for and she said it makes men excited if they watch and also their penises grow big but I think it makes everyone excited and she said that's true. So we watched it a little and then I got on top of sisi and dogslave got on top of Doll and we all kissed each other like that while the whores on the screen were all going "oh yeah! oooh yeah!" because the men on the screen were forcing them with their penises. It was kinda fun but I think a little bit distracting and I think it made dogslave and especially Doll very eager for a man to force his penis into them although dogslave doesn't even have her hole made in her yet! And sisi couldn't make me have it though I made her like three times and then dogslave tried too and she couldn't make me either which has never happened before and then Doll turned off the porn and then both dogslave and sisi made me have it and Doll said "I think you might be a lesbian Babydoll" and I asked her what that is and she said there are two kinds of whore, depending of what she likes, that most whores like men to force themselves into them, but a few like other whores to kiss them and frolic and play with, and some are in between. And the ones in between are called bisexual and that's what she is. The ones that like other whores are called lesbian, and it's really what Sylvia is though she can take Daddy but she almost never wants men. "What about whores that like men ?" and she said they're not called anything or vanilla maybe, but that it's just assumed, and some people don't even believe lesbians exist at all. And I said "well that's silly", and it is true, too, I tried many ways but I can't have it if there's porn going on because it's too distracting for me. And it made me really sad because if my whores like men best what will become of me ?

So we went to my room and we just cuddled in bed and dogslave told me that she is only lesbian for me and sisi and Sylvia and Doll and that she dreams about men and horses and baseball bats and things all the time even very thick and sometime monster dicks with teeth and claws on them that hurt her really bad inside and tear her apart. But that she would never leave me just because of that. She said the things someone dreams about aren't always the best for them or what they really want. But I said dogslave, after a man makes your hole in you everything is going to be different and she said no, and then she said she's never going to have her hole made unless I'm there and I hold her down and order her to take it in. And sisi said she doesn't know what she is, because she never dreams of love just of humiliation like being in the auditorium or in gym without her clothes or on the street all naked and everyone laughing at her and pointing and laughing all the time. And she said sometimes it happens even in the daytime, like when teachers call her name she sort-of dreams about them ordering her to take off her panties and sniff them and the whole class is like ewwww! and they are so wet so everyone knows she is a slut and then the teacher makes her go to every desk and lift her skirt so people can see how wet she is and that she is a slut and they make her split her kitten with her fingers to see better and she said since she saw dogslave sweetpee she is dreaming about that too almost all the time. So then I said to dogslave let's see if she can have it like you, and we took off our clothes again and went into the shower and dogslave was to kiss and lick sisi in the butt because I had already done it to her and it hasn't been long enough for me but I explained it to her how to do and how it goes kissing her mouth, and I kneeled in front of chris and licked her bud. We made her have it many times until she was trembling and could not stand on her feet anymore, but she never had the sweet pee so dogslave brushed her teeth again and I spooned sisi and dogslave spooned me and we went to sleep.

While I slept I had a great dream that was very clear like watching TV and in it I was the Princess of a kingdom from long ago and I had knights who were all girls pretty and athletic like dogslave and they rode horses and had armors on like from long ago all shiny but their big tits were out because the armor had holes for them and also their butt and we went like that through the lands and caught young whores like sisi who were doing peasant things like hanging out with cows in the field or washing their clothes naked at the river or many things and sometimes we would catch their mothers too, who were all like Doll but only a little different, but it was more like Doll with a little disguise. They begged us not to take their daughter and we'd laugh and say beg us to take your slut daughter and you too and make you real whores instead and so the Dolls would beg us to make them whores and their daughters would be all shy but they really wanted us to do things to them, and we put them in this special cart like a cage on wheels and took them back to our castle and there we'd frolic and play all day long! It was the most beautiful dream and also my first time dreaming things like this, and when I told everyone at breakfast they said that's what real Princesses dream about!

Continued >>

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Category: Cuvinte Sfiinte

Thursday, 05 November, Year 12 d.Tr.

Princess Babydoll and the lures of captivity

Thursday October the 7th. My journal that Doll bought me is full, but I will continue the happiest day of my life in here. In the other journal I said until someone came in. She said, "Princess Babydoll Ma'am, your treatment is ready." She was very pretty, tall and slender and shiny black, much darker than dogslave. I didn't know black girls can be so very black, she was shining with blackness like a statuette. I went up to her, right in her face, hobble-hobble, and I said "Who are you ?" to her all like a teacher and she kneeled down in front of me, but with her legs apart and put her arms on her thighs and said "This slave's name is Meron, Great One." It is a very good way to kneel, with your knees apart like that, I like it very much and I do it all the time now myself. I asked her where she is from, and she told me Ethiopia, which is a place in Africa. I asked her how she came here and she said they hunted her like an animal, caught her, tied her, made her a slave and brought her here. I asked if it makes her happy to be enslaved. She didn't say anything and then she said "Sometimes, Mistress." I told her to kiss my feet and beg forgiveness for not being happy to be a slave in my presence, so she did, she kissed my feet and cried on them and begged to "Please forgive me, great Mistress!" and Doll was looking at me like "wtf Babydoll ?!" but I was all "stfu Doll!" and then I said stand up and lead the way and Meron said "Yes Mistress. This slave was never happy to be a slave before. Thank you Mistress" and she held the door open for us.

I hobbled behind the Ethiopian girl as best I could, but she was so fast! Then she noticed and slowed down, and then we were at a different kind of spa. Doll said "you sure about this Babydoll ?" and I said "Oh yeah love". So Doll sat by my side while I was in the vat soaking in the poison hobble. I turned on all sides although I don't know if it makes a difference or not, but why not try everything, right ? Then Doll wanted to hold my hand but I said carefull Doll, don't touch me, what if you get this stuff on you ? And she whispered in my ear, she said "Babydoll baby, it's just a chocolate wrap, there's no poison in there." So I looked at her like wtf, but she nodded at me, like "ikr!" and I whispered "how would you know that" and she whispered in my ear "they told me all about it, how they're going to tell you it's a poison and you have to take an antidote each day". I whispered "why would they do that ?!" and she whispered "I don't know baby. They told me I'll need all the help I can get." So I asked her, "help doing what ?!" and she said that she thinks they think she has trouble being the boss of me. I said now that's really stupid, and she said "Remember Babydoll... nobody's ever ready for you. I wasn't, nobody ever is". But I asked her why would anyone think she'd want to kill me ?! And she explained that's not it at all. She said you see Babydoll, they're scared. They have this thing called fear, so they think because they have it everyone else does too. But I told her I am scared all the time too! And she said yes, but it makes them do things, their fear. And they think it makes everyone else do things also. So they thought it would be good for me. I asked her "It would be good if I was afraid of you Doll ?!" And she said "They think so" but I told her "How could we ever be ourselves, like we are, if we were afraid ?" And she told me "Babydoll, everyone thinks slavery is love from fear. Nobody knows about slavery when you are not afraid because you want whatever it is, anything it is, because you want anything your owner gives you, everything, no matter what it is".

Meron was nodding and Doll said isn't that true Meron ? And she said "Yes Mistress" and then we were all quiet thinking about it and Meron said "This slave thought slavery is love from fear. This slave thought the bloodhounds and the torches and the ropes and the beatings are all for the fear, so this slave learns love from it. When Adadis, Great One came to Meron she was afraid. She was very afraid, like never before. But then, Great One asked and Meron knew. Because for the first time Meron was happy to be enslaved. Great One said beg and Meron begged with her heart, because Meron was not afraid anymore. Whatever Great One gives, Meron wants to have as her own". Meron bowed and left. Doll looked at me. She nodded and I said "I'm the same way, Doll. I want whatever you give me". And Doll said "I know Babydoll. And you sparked it in me like you sparked it in her. Princess Slavemaker Babydoll".

I said "So there's no poison hobble, huh" and Doll said no, there isn't, and I was sad. I wish there were, but if you think about it there's no way a thing like that could work with the body. It was a nice dream though, but Doll said "You'll have to make your own hobble, Babydoll" and I said I guess so. It's not the same though. I asked if she can take it off my ankles and she said yes, she has the keys, but they're in the other place. Then I asked her "How about Sylvia, Doll ?" and she didn't say anything. I said "I wonder if she would like to be with us" and Doll cried a little and said she misses her so much. But now we'll never see her again, ever. I hugged and I said "Maybe one day" and she nodded too, tears hanging from her eyelashes. I said "Doll, do you think Sylvia might want to be kidnapped too ? To be with us ?" and Doll just looked at me for a long time, and then she said "I don't know". Then Meron came back, because it was time to get out. She and Doll washed the goop off of me, and then Meron held a large fluffy towel but I said thank you, I'll dry like this.

We went back to the other place, the tunnel air warm and pleasant, and when we arrived dogslave was there! She was crying for a long time, because when she came in there was nobody there, and she thought she would meet us, but when she was alone she was desperate and thought that's it, we'll never ever meet again! She was so sad! Just lay there on the floor crying, but we told her silly puppydog! Doll opened my ankle cuffs and then we washed dogslave in the shower and hugged her and we were so happy to have her back! Then Doll said "guess what puppydog ?" and dogslave looked at her and Doll said "We're sisters now. I'm Babydoll's whore just like you!" and dogslave ruffed happily and licked her face. Then we went in the jacuzzi and we were very happy and talking about things and just as I said I wonder how sisi is doing she came in! She was crying and desperate, because she had been by herself so long, and she said she was afraid, and the man in the beak mask told her many things about what happens to bad slaves and she told him she is always good but he just told her more and did we know how many torture things they have in here ?!

I told them they showed them all to me, and Doll said crazy stuff with the burials huh ? But I said what burials and it came out that they showed us different things! They took Doll to a different place underneath the room with the fire in the wall, and there were piles of skulls and bones and stone boxes with very heavy lids, and spider webs! Doll said the man with the beak said "We're in luck, there's an execution scheduled right now". So different executioners brought in a crying girl, she had red hair and she was struggling so hard but could do nothing, and they put her inside a stone box and pulled the lid over her. And you couldn't hear anything, even if you put your ear on the stone, not the faintest whisper though she was sure the girl was crying inside, because before they put her in she begged and begged and thrashed and cried! So she asked the man "How long is she in there for ?" and he said "Nobody knows. Maybe forever." and Doll said she started crying and kneeled and he said to her "Now pretty slave, it's your turn." and she had to walk into a box all by herself! And she asked before they pulled the lid on her "For how long ?" and they said "You'll find out." and then she was in there by herself and it is just like a tomb, just rock heavy and hard and nothing you can do.

dogslave said that's not what they did to her, they went into another room and there were nothing but small cages on the walls, like six or seven tall, and not very big, just enough for a dog, and a few were empty but many had dogs in them, like real dogs, and some had girls she thought! They made her go in a cage at the bottom, and the bad thing is that whenever any dog in a higher cage poops or pees it falls right on you, and the dogs barked and the girls cried sometimes and it was crazy. Then later they came back and asked her if she wants to stay there, and she said no. And they asked how come and she said she misses babydoll and started crying. So they asked her if she is a good whore and she said yes, and they asked her if she will be a good slave her whole life and she said yes! And then they took her out and brought her here. And sisi said that they took her to a different room and there were many tables and many girls were tied down on them and none could speak but some could look at her and their eyes looked desperate and sad or some just wild and many were just passed out. And there were special machines with cocks fucking them and torturing them in so many ways and with electricity and sparks too and it was so crazy she couldn't even look but they made her look and touch the girls flesh and breasts as they were being machined and she kissed their sides and legs and where she could reach and begged to let them go but they said "Do you want to be a slave or do you want to be here from now on ?" and she told them she always wants to be my slave and please let her go. So they brought her in.

We were all shocked by how crazy and huge the place is, and we talked about it and sisi shaved Doll and dogslave just hugged us all the time and she said she doesn't know if she wants to be puppydog anymore really, and I asked her if it's because of the cages and she said it was so sad! Doll told her that she doesn't have to be a puppy if she doesn't want to, but she also shouldn't go by the worst it could be. She should go by the best she can make it, that she's a really good puppy and if she stops because of that it's like if Whitney Houston gave up music because Celine Dion can't sing, or like if a rich man gave away his fortune because there are poor people. dogslave said that's a good point and she'll have to think about it, and I kneeled down and went ruff! ruff! at her and nuzzled her knees and we all had a lot of fun.

Then Meron came back and told us we are invited for lunch in one hour with the owner! And sisi asked if it is our owner and she said no, the owner of the whole place, the boss! She said he is flying in special to see us, and that they say this is new. I asked who are they and she said the handlers. Then Doll asked her if she is our hostess or something and she flushed a little and said she doesn't know, it's never happened before, but they told her to serve us but nobody could tell her how it goes or what she has to do exactly because they don't have any procedures but that she hopes we aren't dissatisfied with her services. So I asked her if she knows how to do massages and she said "yes Great One" and I told her to stop calling me that and she asked if Adadis is ok and I asked her what that is and she said it's Great One in her language. I told her ok and to give sisi a neck massage because she is very tense and Doll got out and started rubbing my neck and sisi asked her if everyone in her country is as pretty as she is and she said no Mistress, only the girls in my tribe. And dogslave asked her how can she be so black, and Meron said she was born that way.

It was so weird to see anyone call sisi Mistress! Meron also told us we are the first group like, ever, because all the slave girls come alone even if they are brought at the same time they're always by themselves and they separate mothers and daughters and sisters too. And she also told us that she heard from the handlers talking that the psychs argued all day and literally threw books at each other about what to do with us. Then sisi asked her what are the handlers and she said they are the people who train slavegirls, like there's beastmasters for very bad girls that often get killed and there's trainers for basic girls or very young girls that have a lot to learn, and then there's trainers for real slaves. But it seems they have been discussing because we should have a trainer because we are so young, but the trainers said we should have handlers because we are very advanced and then it was discussed if there should be one for the whole group but nobody wanted to do it because it's too much responsibility and it isn't how it goes in their procedures which they don't have for whole groups anyway and the head psych didn't agree to split us up but even then nobody really wanted to do it if they had split us up because they say it is a lot of responsibility and then they agreed to make a committee and just send a girl to serve us for now. "So why did they send you ?" I asked her. "This slave is the senior slave girl in residence, Adadis. I have been here nineteen months. I make the bed for owner when he comes."

It was so weird, how she said it, we all started laughing, and I said "So you're basically the house mother ?" and Meron said "No Adadis, Meron is just a slave." and dogslave asked her "But who are you a slave to ?" and she didn't know who to say! Then I asked her "But are you a whore ?" and she said she was never used in that way, and I asked "In what way ?" and she said having to work in the brothel or walking in the street to fuck many men. So I told her we're all whores but we've never been in a brothel or ever fucked any men either, well except once but it was not for money anyway. She asked how is that possible ? And I explained to her that a whore is a woman that makes things so her pimp takes them from her so she has nothing, like a flower makes nectar but the little bird comes and licks it all off and the flower just has to make more. She was very confused and said "But isn't that being a slave ?" and I said "No Meron, you are a slave when you want whatever your owner gives you, because there is no more good or bad, you want it all whatever it is because it comes from them and it is good for you no matter what it is." She looked at me and said "But aren't those the same thing ?" and I told her it is best when they are, but that's not always, there are misfortunate women whose owner is not their pimp, or don't have a pimp but have just an owner, or don't have an owner but just a pimp, and often they don't even realise what's wrong or why something feels missing.

Doll said "Babydoll, you have more procedures in that pretty head than this entire huge place" and everyone laughed, but Meron was thinking and she said then it must be that she is my slave, because nobody made her feel that way before, that she wants whatever they want to give her, because there is no good and bad anymore. And that her pimp then is the place, yeah, because she works for it every day to make it as good as possible. But I told her "Meron, see if you can look at the owner as your owner, when you make his bed. Because we will be sold and leave here, but you will be left behind." and she said "Awesome Lee who lame tazer, Adadis" which is in her language but means she will do what I tell her to. Then she told us we should go and get dressed, because there's a special dressing room upstairs with many dresses and shoes and everything. But I said "Puppy, you wanna be dressed ?" and dogslave just said Ruff! Ruff! and then I asked sisi but she said she wants just what I want, and then I said, "Doll, we're slave whores, we're going naked to lunch, what the hell is this!" and she said "Right on Babydoll!" so I said to Meron we're not dressing, we're coming naked but we want lube because we're putting our slave stones back in. And then I looked at Doll and said I don't care what the rule is, this is the time we have to have them in no matter what happens and Doll nodded her head.

Meron was looking kinda blown away, but she left and after some time she was back with a tube in her hand, like a perfume maybe ? And she said she told we will be naked and nobody said anything just were kinda wtf, and gave me the bottle. I said "what is this ?!" and she said it is lube, and it said on it too, but it was totally not lube. Who ever heard of spray lube! I gave it to Doll and she looked at it and she said "Oh." and she told Meron we need vaseline silly, what is this water-based crap. So she left and she was gone even longer and then she came back with a big box of axel grease! Which is what they use for the racks and things, because they had no sex vaseline at all! But the maintenance guys for the fireside room said it's pretty much straight soft paraffin so it's the same thing, and so we put our stones in with a little bit of axle grease on them like we were industrial machinery! But we only used just a very little anyway. It was just in time too, so we took off and followed Meron to lunch.

We went down the corridor and then turned and there was an elevator! But you really had to know your way to find it, and also the button to call it read fingerprints, so only Meron could call it and I guess other people too but none of us. Inside the elevator we found out we were three out of five levels underground, and we were going three out of three levels up! Top of the world yaay! Meron was really uneasy and Doll asked her what's the matter and she said she's never been above ground naked like this before, that it's ok underground but slaves always dress if they go to the surface. She had a point too because it was a little chilly, and it gave us goosebumps at first, but also when the elevator opened it was in a large lobby, and there were many men and even more gorgeous women and I thought they were all slaves but Meron said no, many of them are free women and some of them even come to buy slaves for themselves! I don't know why she thought this is such a strange thing, I told her both sisi and dogslave were my slaves and Doll is my slave now too, but she just looked at me like maybe she thought only men can own slaves ? Meron really has some very confused ideas about everything and to think she's been a slave for nineteen months! What has she been doing all that long time ?!

We went through the lobby thing, there were two large bars curved on left and right kinda behind the elvators, of which there were like five but of course I guess only ours went so low. Everyone stopped talking and everything and were looking at us, and it made Meron so uncomfortable! Like she kept wanting to cover herself with her hands and then stopping herself, it made her walk funny. But we walked all proud like true whores past the couches and to the side where we went through a balcony over a large restaurant hall below, where people were eating but nobody noticed us, but it was still so great to finally be naked with so many people! I told Doll this is such a great day! And also it was so nice to see the Sun after two whole days of being in the hole, because the balcony we were walking was on the side and it had windows all along it really large and the Sun was right on them, and it made dogslave's skin look beautiful, and Meron's even better. Black girls look really good in the sun! Then we went through a door into a small salon, which is what you call basically restaurant rooms that are to the side for privacy. There was a large table all prepared, like in a very nice restaurant, and three men were sitting down. We went a few steps in and kneeled, Doll right behind me to the left, and dogslave and sisi behind me to the right. The men were looking at us. One in the middle was kinda short and he had bald hair and his eyes were sparking but a very strange color like not normal blue like people have but very dark blue like almost black, like on the back of that beetle. It was very distracting. Next to him was the man from the torture rooms, with the beak mask, but I recognized him from his voice anyway. He was kinda tall and skinny and he had a moustache and really big ears. The other one was the man who brought us our gruel this morning, he just looked like himself from before. Of course I didn't look at them at all when we were kneeling, because my eyes were down, but I looked afterwards and it's the same thing.

Meron said "Sir these are the four slaves. This is Babydoll." and he gestured for me to come over, so I crawled over to him. I don't think that's what he meant, he probably meant I should walk over, but he could have also said so no ? But once I was kneeled next to him he put his hand on my throat, and I pushed myself into it a little and raised my chin so he has a better grip. He said "Hello Babydoll" and I said "Hello sir" and smiled. He didn't smile back, instead he started squeezing my throat. It was choking me. I started feeling faint, and then the room started spinning, and I fell over. Doll told me that I was only out a moment, but when I came to I was crumpled at his feet. I lifted my head and looked at him. He said "Babydoll, you'd let anyone kill you ?" and I said "No sir, not everyone. Only those who can do it." and the guys he was with started laughing but trying not to, and I think maybe Doll too, but she was much better at holding it in. He looked left and right at his guys sputtering and slapping their knees and then back at me. I went back on my knees and he put his hand on my throat again, and I pushed a little in and lifted my chin again, and smiled at him again. He said "Are you crazy, little girl ? You just insulted me, aren't you afraid ?" and I said "You do with me what you want to, sir." and he looked at the psych guy who said "Now you understand our problem." He turned back at me, his hand on my throat still, and he said "choke yourself, slave". I grabbed the hair on the back of my head with both hands and tried to push myself into his hand, but it wasn't really doing anything, so I put my hands on his hand and squeezed it hard around my throat.

He didn't let me pass out though, but he immediately lifted me up to my feet. "Who are the other three ?" he asked me, and I told him "There to the left is Doll. Next to her in the middle dogslave, and on the right sisi." He said "Why don't you take a seat ?" And I said "With pleasure" and I sat down in front of him. Then he said "All of you" and so Doll came and sat next to me and sisi and dogslave too. Then he pointed to the psych guy and said "This is our chief psychologist here at the facility. And this is the head of operations." and I said "Oh good, I was afraid he's the chef" and we all laughed, and the chef too, I'll call him that. He explained to the owner that it's because he brought us our oatmeal last night and this morning, and the owner snickered. I don't think he has the best sense of humour. Then the psych said "She asked me if I loved her, you know." and the owner looked at me and said "I hope you told her yes" and the psych said "Indeed". Then the owner looked at me and said "Such a fine lady" and I said thank you kindly, sir. He asked me if it's my first time, and I said I've never had a compliment after being strangled before, and the psych asked me if I was strangled before and I said "No, sir. It's not changed since this morning." then the owner said he meant at a restaurant, and I said No, sir so he gestured for the waiter who came with the menus. I said Chateaubriand, four, point bleu. They all looked at each other. The owner said "Seven! And claret." and the waiter bowed and high-tailed it the hell out of there. The chef almost started to say something, but he thought better of it. I don't think he likes his steak blue. Doll looked at me and I looked back at her like, now's the time! and sisi said "Lovely weather we're having, don't you find sir ?" which was so fucking funny everyone just lost it laughing, even the owner guy. Except sisi wasn't trying to say something funny so she kinda laughed guilty with us.

I said "Will you split us up ?" and the owner said "No." so I asked him "Do you promise ? And swear ?" so he looked at me like it made me think maybe I'd better go on my knees but he said "Why would I do that ?" and I said "I don't know, sir. Maybe you feel like it." and he said "Are you really all they say about you ?" and I said "Yes sir." so he said "Then what do you need promises for. I have no bargaining position, you can always turn stupid." and I said "Only after you, sir" and he said "I've never turned stupid first yet." and the psych guy said "What splendid basis for an understanding!" and the owner said "I really want to whip the snot out of this bratty cunt". He meant me! It made me so sad, I thought we were joking around. I told him I am so sorry sir, please forgive me but he just waved his hand and said "Baah!" like a sheep! He's a very strange man. I looked at Doll, and held my breath, and then I said "I'd like to make you a gift, sir. May I ?" and he asked "What kind of gift ?" and I said "There's a fifth. She's not with us, and we miss her." and they were all surprised. The owner said "Oh ?" and I said "But we don't want her taken if she doesn't want to come. But if we arrange with her to give herself up, will you take her, and bring her back to us ?" and he said "What do you need ?" and I said "We need to talk to her." The chef said "This is high risk" but the owner said "No, see, that is the gift. She's not giving me her confidence, like every con man since Cain. She's asking me for mine, like every woman since Eve. The great old gift of gimme." It hurt so much, what he said, and it made me so sad! I said I am sorry you see it that way, sir and drank some wine because the waiter just brought it. Doll said "Babydoll!" and I nodded at her, but afterwards I kept drinking from the glass until it was gone, and maybe the waiter even put more in, but anyway the rest that I remember is waking up with my girls the next day.

Continued >>

« Princess Babydoll and the value of life.

Fenwalkin' bimbo »

Category: Cuvinte Sfiinte

Monday, 09 November, Year 12 d.Tr.

P&P, irl&off

So I've been spending my days playing poker onlinei and partying (not necessarily in that order) ; but as I suppose the latter's a lot more your interest... let's go to press.

New shipment of slaves coming in (a word to the wise : I think some crimes might be being committed here!)

From experience as generously allowed by lengthy, unbrokenii practice I've discovered it's a lot better if they're insistently reminded to hold on to their passports while being processed ; the meaninglessness of the act somehow drives the point home better than all alternative affirmations.

Do you think this looks like popcorn ?

Because I've been told it looks like popcorn, and I do not think it looks anything like popcorn.

I think the cookbitch's putting too much popcorn in the dust with sky & diamonds...

That lavender hardughie above is, believe you me or not me or not believe at all (ideally) a church. Also supposedly (it is rumoured) a transit & processing point for freshly enslaved careerwomen & assorted snatched preteen bodies, or something in that vein or not in that vein at all, whether it be artery or adultery or in any way something to do with going in.

"Sastreria Mario Marin" plainly indicates that the item advertised is not merely a taylor, but one that aspires! It's named (for a guy who sounds vaguely Romanian, from that period of Romanian diasporization), it's... would you like some clothes made ? They'll fit so well they'll look painted on! By that brush.

We were talking, you know, the best thing'd be if there was also a beauty salon&spa on the opposite side of the street, similarily advertised. Then couples could be coming hand in hand from the village, to be processed. In town.

Yes ?

Hey, remember that time when I took over one of Budapest's oldest, most beautifully decorated cafes for my perverse shenanigans ?

Well... What, you hoped my perversity knows geographic bounds ?!

I find the cups-and-butts cunterdistinctive condratiction quite pleasing to the eye. And tentacle.

Ca-n viata.

Do you remember me saying something or the other about blossoming ? Something to do with women being clipped at the right times in the right places and so on ?

Well, it pleases me no end to be able to actually display & present for your admiration the physical results of the metaphore in question!

This'd be me listening to contemporary slutmusiciii (on youtube!!!) while having contemporary sluts slutting it out live right in front of me ; and by this opportunity let me challenge any Arab princes / sultans of Brunei / Russian moboligarchs / whatever the fuck's left of white manhood at the periphery of the collapsing empire : can you compare with me, fuckers ? Let's fucking see it, what've you got ? What've you been doing with this life ?

You've been served.

Yes, that's a whip, a proper, braided leather, stingy as all burning hells whip.

Because that bitch... she's a cow.

Sure it's alright for them to share the same cup ; but if you cum twice do yourself the favour and use two cups. Gotta treat yourself right!

This is a candid, by the way. Completely unposed, and by the way, let me in passing mention : if your candi dun look this way after a spirited bout of anal, you... you... well, I guess you gotta buy her a new Spongebob jammy.

Try it, anyhow.

Yes, that's vaseline.

Vaseline is the baseline.

———There's this delightful little game called Governor of Poker 3. I like it very much for a laundry list of reasons, chief among which that it's aesthetically both very pleasing and very daring. As to the former point, it will perhaps have to be said that whatever my objections otherwise, political, cultural or whatever they may be, in this particular case the "tablet" style is particularly adequate and quite very much delivering : you do want a clean design with thick lines and no florid intricacy of spurious detail when playing poker, this is the place for the neoprotestant take on aesthetics firmly and exactly, and as such it works exceedingly well. As to the latter point : not only have they definitively pinned down the representation of Sartre's (and everyone else's) Other, such that heretofore poker dialogue proceeds not face to face, but hat to hat ; but they've also whipped a particular decoction of chintzy kitch into a very workable froth. I don't recall when's the time I last liked computer graphics on aesthetical grounds -- they're often enough very saucily pornographic, but rarely asexually accomplished.

Otherwise, there's no actual money involved (I mean I suppose you could pay a buck or two here and there for however many millions in chips -- but what you're buying are the exact same chips some casino blondie is earning under the table / some punter is winning over the table, there's no "special currency" in the azn sense, no "rubies"/"diamonds" here [they do have "gold", but its only utility I could find consists of buying hats and pins for them]), and, importantly, everyone's complaining. Let's quote :

Sparkie951 [has Governor of Poker 3] 3 Aug @ 1:03pm

The Emerald Has To Go

The Emerald is just getting out of hand.... It is causing so much abuse and players points chasing and abusing other players... This is getting bad an out of hand. These users do not understand that the Emerald only gives them 25 to 250 Mil... I saw one user go from 1.4 Billion down to less than 300 Mil... I have seen several players go to over 100,000 team points in under 2 days and some now almost 200,000. There is no way this can be done with out apply abuse to players.

Here is the deal... When they go all in, they get all chips already legitimately bet and forcing people to fold on a bluff... They then take a quick win and change tables.

So since they are playing a points game and do not really care about the chips, they just want to get the Green Shield as a Status Symbol as to how good they are. There is No rank lower than VIP+ that can do it safely and efficiently

Here is the way these players are Faking Points and it is simple.

1.) Joining the Table and Quick All In

2.) Will most likely have a Green Shield

3.) Many times will have (what I call a stupid hat)

a.) Alligator or pig

b.) Powder Keg with Sewer Rat Lighting it off

c.) Other Weird and stupid hats

4.) High Level, usually above 50, being a High Roller or lower in the upper tables

GOP, Please fix this game... There are so many issues and it is only getting worse.. You have already lost a lot of us who used to buy chips, but just not worth it any longer. Salvo, Please go to the DEV's and ask them to fix the game... Tell them that they are going in the wrong direction.

Thanks in advance for helping us

Salvo

I think I have figured out why they Bingo!

I was thinking it was they they are just selfish, rude, and over bearing, but beginning to see it.

The real problem is:

1. They do not understand betting odds

2. They do not understand the cards

3. They do not understand how to relate bets to their hands...

4. I also attribute it to our school system for such low level of math training in the class rooms.

5. Understanding the value of a Dollar and relating funds to the chips.

6. It really feels like most of the players are what I call Children that have not grown up yet (25 and below).

7. Too many people play out of their class... High Rollers should never go to the higher tables. Should never take more than 5% of your assets to the table.... at 5 Mil for Crystal Palace in Las Vegas that would be 100 Mil (No High Roller has that).

If a McDonalds clerk cannot make change when the registers go down, how can they count their cards and really know what is good and what is bad... So many think AA and AK is good All In PreFlop... there are no 2 cards thats worth an All In Preflop

AA has an 85% published win rate as hold cards (in GOP I would say it is less)

AK would be much would be much worse than AA because of Logarithms involved.

Another problem I see is ethics.... Players for what ever reason like to laugh at players when they win.... this is not on unethical and rude, it is not called for. It is not funny to see someone lose. It is nothing more than being rude at the table and using very poor ethics. There are times to laugh, but not over someone losing a hand. Along the same lines is respect. Poker was built around respect.. In GOP the players show almost no respect for the player near them...

There is no get rich scheme, and I have seen so many Bingo Players lose it all time over time... Sooner or later they will be caught with their pants down and someone calls them... It is amazing a player with 5 Mil will go to a 5 mil buy in table an lose it all on 1 hand and are bankrupt... they should know better, but in today's environment they feel like it is ok to try to run over others and then don't understand when they lost everything. Hard to feel sorry for them when they do it, but they should have known better!

As you can perhaps intuit from the froth, the problem perceived by the average pantsuit tard is that the game is "regressive", like proper taxation : it puts all the burden on the poor, as everything all the time fucking well should! "Abuse", rite ?

What happens is that the game proceeding on imaginary money nobody has ever had to work for (and the admin pumping up untold billions into the universe on a daily basis through all manner of gamified activity rewarders -- which, while exactly contrary to Eulora's take on game currency, nevertheless is a good thing here!), money has exactly the only remaining value left available : that of attention. Obviously most tards are unwilling to adjust their priors to reality, which is why they're tards in the first place ; but nobody cares about them : Governor of Poker brings to life a sort of poker you've never the fuck seen anywhere else, it's utterly post-pantsuit meaningful in terms of the meanings of pantsuit currency. Obviously it's no fun to be blitzed constantly and consistently, without let or hindrance, by a teeming, endless legion of r-strategy eversames ; but... well, who the fuck told you you're the K, hmmm ? The fact that you "spend your time introspecting" whereby you've come up with such science as "laughing at losers is bad" does not constitute any kind of grounds, no.

Rather, I'd say this game finally gave something to do to the simp legion mutely gravitating out there ; and since noblesse oblige, this Trilema article finally gives something to do to the simp legion mutely gravitating around here : click the link, feed my downline, and otherwise in the bimbo's immortal words... "suck it, little kids!" [↩]Har har. [↩]How do you call this genre, by the way ? "Music" it is not very much, rather I'd say burlesque lite, a coupla minutes at a time and filmed, in a studio as opposed to live, so I guess... TTB for tik-tok burleqsue ? You know perfectly what I mean, I'm sure, we're here talking of Cardi B and her train of more or less gifted immitators, Nikki Minaj, Rihanna, Doja Cat etcetera.

Basically it's the necessary as well as unavoidable coming together of the camwhore culture with the unemployed rap video extras/dancers demographic, in the general soup of reproductive age female attention whoring with a view to distinguishing themselves from the very wordy losers without bodies. [↩]

« thelastpsychiatrist.com - Parenting and Personality Disorders. Adnotated.

The man looked down... »

Category: Zsilnic

Sunday, 23 August, Year 12 d.Tr.

Poached eggs in refried beans

There's a panoply of elaborate food preparation that gives Romanian traditional culture most of its flavouri -- the boeuf salads made of fowl and so on. Among these -- maybe not chief among them but definitely not least among them either, the titular item :

Doesn't it look just fucking delicious ? (Except for the thing on the left, that's a slice of homemade bread covered in homemade zacusca, another item conceived to make the weaker sex bleed tears atop a hot stove after days' incessant labour -- we'll maybe get into some other time).

This is a breakfast dish ; in order to be able to make it for breakfast however you will need a well stocked kitchen. "Well stocked" here doesn't simply mean cirpatoare & knives, the material abundance of proper appurtenance ; it importantly also means things like bread that was taken out of the oven yesterday, which means in turn the woman was there yesterday, taking the damned thing out of the oven (instead of galivanting all over the roads & walking the streets pretending to "careers" like yours do). Because back in the old country, when we're talking of exhausting the female, we're not joking around. Exausted, spent, wrung out like the zdreantaii we're afraid she might contain within.

But anyways : things like, is what I said. Not actually that, but something like it. In our case, the thing like is a pot of beans with smoked meat, which requires as you no doubt do not know three to seven washings of the beans, not to mention cold smoked meat and the rest of the trims. It sits on a low fire for two to three hours to make itself, do you realise ? It takes just about half of the day's daylight to produce the damn thing!

That was yesterday ; today... well, today's today, the day's to be earned all over again. To which end, we take a few scoops of the beans from the fridged pot of smoked pork & beans, and we dump it in a strainer. Then enslaved damsels labour to strain the material, until the husks are separated on the inside, and all the bean pulp has grown out of the strainer, like some kind of a fantastic beard. It's hard, armbreaking labour that takes hours, and what's more : it's skilled! A novice can spend the whole day breaking her hands through incorrect application of force and still not produce a tenth of what a trained whore can squirt forth in five minutes! Does this characterization remind you of any other natural phenomena ?

As I was saying : to have this dish for breakfast, you need a well appointed kitchen. It must contain the objects that are needed, yes ; it must further contain the products of diligent, unceasing labour, yes ; it however also needs the very domestic slaves in question, too! They've gotta be there, present, ready, because the straining has to be done in time for this to still be breakfast, yes ? Therefore having the strainer and theiii spoon ain't good enough ; and having the material to put in them ain't good enough either, howsoever closer to good enough as it may well be.

Once the pulping's done, you take a butter knife and shave the strainer, which is itself quite fun, and which in turn brings to light an ancient point : to have fun, someone must organize it for you. It takes work, unwavering, ceaseless work smartly and dilligently applied, for the Master to enjoy his life. You dump it in a pot which all the while was being tended, hot oil crisping thinly sliced garlic just enough. You stir and keep adding oil as needed, until this thing turns into a sort of mayo sui generis, it's really not so different from the pea pastes that made the fame of Lebanon.

Once that's done, you crack say five eggs atop the mess (depending, obviously, how much mess you've got in the first place), watch them slowly coagulate for a moment, then put the lid on the pan, and walk away. This is a great time to play with their cunts, for instance, tickle the little rosebuds under their hoods or make them do oddly humiliating things that come to you on the spot -- within a quarter hour or so the breakfast's done, and then they'll have to eat it.

Geddit ?

PS. Crumble some Roquefort (produit du France!!!) on your egg, what can it possibly hurt. Oh and you did put marjoram on them right after breaking them, yes ? Or what, you do basel instead ?

———It tastes of exhausted female, if you're curious, which happens to be the only deliciousness known on earth -- specifically because it's so perverse, which is to say the opposite of natural. [↩]Derrogatory term for ambiguously either a rag or a prostitute. [↩]Wooden. Silicone spatulas do not work for this. See, where subtlety lies ?

Now go ask Hannah about making mayo by hand, and glassware, and things. [↩]

« City Hall

Forum logs for 19 Feb 2012 »

Category: Cocietate si Sultura

Friday, 03 January, Year 12 d.Tr.

Please don't eat the daisies

Please don't eat the daisiesi is mildly interesting as it depicts the maturing of the pantsuit cuckboi into an actual adult maleii at the possibly last point in Western history when such miracle occurediii.

Otherwise, the thing's befouled by the unwelcome presence of a singer and a "comedian"iv in lieu of the needed actors, not to mention a cheap vamp trying to cheaply be Marylin "but different" (and a cheaper still extra pretending like she's Liz the Whore -- which doth bring to mind just how fabulous a film this could've been, if it consisted instead of Robert Mitchum going to bed with a thirty-four year old Marylin and a twenty-eight year old Taylor. Now that'd be some porn I'd absolutely wish existed -- aren't you curious to see how'd snowballing'd work in their mouths, or for that matter who'd be teaching whom, and what ?) ; the fact that the housewife most obviously has had her three boys (all the same age) with three different men that absolutely aren't the import minnow she married is similarly sadly wasted -- would it have costv so very much to have three extras matching their hair colors exactly somewhere in the background, say a plumber, a milkman and a postman ?

But aside all that, the mother-in-law telling her daughter she may have grown out of it (maybe, the mother doesn't know), but she had been the dumbest child, as a factual matter ; and to her son-in-law that he should do naught but step on her face, she's the wife and the woman and the fucking point of life is exactly that, the more she's humiliated the better for everyone -- those entirely make the movie. The advice of that 12-year-old vaudeville star (meanwhile aged into gramahood), her great care to correctly build the trap for her own daughter ("go to her", she says, "it's too early yet", she says, "she's not emotionally invested enough in the matter yet", she says, "so it won't hurt her or break her nearly enough if sprung yet, just waste a perfectly good trap ; help her get more of her parts in the teeth, so she feels it right and proper when it goes off", she says), those totally make the movie.

Which otherwise isn't all that good -- but if you're perhaps curious how the otherbetter half lives...

———1960, by Charles Walters, with Doris Day, David Niven, Patsy Kelly and I gues, if we must, Janis Paige. [↩]Though as belated as it could be, the dude being in his early 50s by all appearances. [↩]That'd be the early-mid (and somewhat idealised) 1950s depicted in this 1960 piece. You know, those 1950s nowadays reinterpreted as the "1950s household" BDSM trope. [↩]Though Niven is about as funny as any other chunk of British humour -- its entire substance consisting of sitting about a stiff and pretending like it were a parrot, from Norway, that's "pining for the fjords". Don't you find this funny ? I mean humour is the unexpected, yes, what could be more belabouredly "unexpected" than this ?! They tried so hard (after the given formula!) to be unexpected, why do you have it in for them ?!

By this regrettable "logic" should a lowly company of unemployed sailors followed around by a well used up whore missing most front teeth turn to referring to her as "The Princess of Bedford" is similarly "funny" after the British fashion, while five hungering hobos calling some shoe leather recently out of the kettle "merengue" is exactly the same ; if this ignare nonsense appeals to you, you can "laugh" loudly and "merrily" should anyone point out your confusion, and then "send them to Coventry" and so on.

Ultimately, British humour is not at all English but entirely Scottish, it was born when some tribal picts heard that there's marble in Rome not to mention baths, and slaves, and decided their native pine and local rubble can't be anything else nor anything worse (though perhaps better). Hence presbyterianism, and the covenanters, and William&Maryanne, and so on. Never was a small, poor and desperate people more abused or misfortunate for being set upon the Earth slightly South of some idiots, if you think about it -- and if they ever were, certainly the history of their misfortune never was as well recorded. [↩]As in the Spanish sense of the term, "me cuesta mucho no ser idiota". [↩]

« The journall of the good Mr. Archibald Pizdys, as laid in his own hand for the year, of our King Charles, 19th, week 12.

The world's great though unfortunately populated, sau mula-n beige »

Category: Trilematograf

Sunday, 05 July, Year 12 d.Tr.

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Last chapter & epilogue.

I had amazed cons and guards alike, I had survived it. I was getting out in twenty-four hours. I was almost forty-three sitting in a cell.

I thought, "I have been in a deadly trap. Have I really escaped it? Does fate have grimmer traps set?i Can I learn to be proud of my black skin? Can I adjust to the stark reality that black people in my lifetime had little chance to escape the barbed-wire stockade in the white man's world?"

Only time and the imponderables inside me would answer the questions.

I had no one except Mama. They dressed me out. My clothes flopped around on my skeletal frame. I still hadn't told them how I had escaped.ii Cons cheered me as I shuffled toward freedom. They knew how I had suffered and what the awful odds had been that I wouldn't have made it.

A friend of Mama's had sent me my fare. As the plane flew over the sea of neon, I looked down at the city where I had come so many years ago in search of an empty lonesome dream.iii

I thought of Henry and the sound of that pressing machine. Of Mama when she was young and pretty. How wonderful it had been back there in Rockford. She would come into my room at bedtime, a tender ghost, and tuck me in warmly and kiss me goodnight. It seemed a long time before I finally got to her.

When I walked into her room, death was there in her tiny gray face. Her eyes brightened and flashed a mother's deathless love. Her embrace was firm and sure. My coming to her had been like a miracle. It was the magic that gave her strength.

She clutched life for an added six months. I never left the house for those six months.iv We would lie side by side on twin beds and talk far into the night. She made me promise that I would use the rest of my life in a good way.v She told me I should get married and have children.

I tried hard to make up for all those years I had neglected her. It's hard to square an emotional debt. That last sad day she looked up into my eyes from the hospital bed.

In a voice I could scarcely hear through her parched lips, she whispered, "Forgive me Son, forgive me. Mama didn't know. I'm sorry."

I stood there watching her last tears rolling down her dead cheeks from the blank eyes. I crushed her to me.

I tried to get my final plea past death's grim shield, "Oh Mama, nothing has been your fault, believe me, nothing. If you are foolish enough to think so, then I forgive you."

I staggered blindly from the hospital. I went to the parking lot. I fell across the car hood and cried my heart out. I stopped crying. I thought Mama had really gotten in the last word this time.

These stinking whores would have gotten a huge charge if they could have seen old Iceberg out there wailing like a sucker because his old lady was dead.vi

EPILOGUE

I am lying in the quiet dawn.vii I am writing this last chapter for the publisher.

I am thinking, "How did a character like me, who for most of his life had devoted himself to the vilest careerviii, ever square up? By all the odds, I should have ended a broken, diseased shell, or died in a lonely prison cell."

I guess three of the very important reasons are lying asleep in the bedroom across the hall. I can see their peaceful, happy faces. They don't know how hard and often discouraging it is for me to earn a living for them in the square world.ix

This square world is a strange place for me. For the last five years I have tried hard, so hard, to solve its riddles, to fit in.

Catherine, my beautiful wife, is wonderful and courageous. She's a perfect mother to our adorable two-year-old girl, and our sturdy, handsome three-year-old boy.x

In this new world that isn't really square at all, I have had many bitter experiences. I remember soon after my marriage how optimistic I was as I set out to apply for the sales jobs listed in the want ads.

I knew that I was a stellar salesman. After all, hadn't I proved my gift for thirty years? The principles of selling are the same in both worlds. The white interviewers were impressed by my bearing and apparent facility with words.xi They sensed my knowledge of human nature.

But they couldn't risk the possible effect that a Negro's presence wouldxii have on the firm's all white personnel. In disgust and anger, I would return home and sulk. Bitterly I would try to convince myself to go back into the rackets. Catherine always said the right things and gave me her love and understanding.

There was another indispensable source of help and courage during these hard times. She's a charming, brilliant woman. She had been a friend to my mother. She functioned as a kind of psychotherapist. She explained and pointed out to me the mental phases I was passing through. She gave me insight to fight the battle. To her I shall always be grateful.xiii

The story of my life indicates that my close friends were few.xiv Shortly before I started this book I met a man I respected. I thought he was a true friend. I was bitterly disillusioned to discover he wasn't. I'm glad in a way it turned out the way it did. I've always come back stronger after a good kick in the ass.

I have had many interesting and even humorous experiences in this new life. They will have to wait for now.xv I see my little family is awake. I'll have to light the heater. I can't let them get up in the early morning chill.

How about it, an Iceberg with a warm heart?xvi

~ Fin ~

———Yeah totally that's what it is, this "Fate" joker goes about in an old Chevy truck, setting up traps for innocent well meaning Herpy McDerpersons. [↩]Technically four months in they had stopped giving a shit. [↩]It's truly a very easy piece of nonsense to sell to juveniles, because they're scared shitless of the vastness of perceived posibility, and on top of that they're particularly, bone-chillingly afraid of women. So conning them that the way to handle this "perceived" (really, imagined) problem is by holing yourself up in a hotel room and turning blind eyes and deaf ears upon the few girls that are trying their darndest to mean anything is just like conning junkies that what they really need is more dope, or proles that the solution to their problems is more socialism. [↩]This guy really is quite the recluse, isn't he. [↩]By which is meant, "wait it out quietly, rather than try use it at all". [↩]More like closure than charge, I suspect, but anyways.

For the record, I regret them all. Not this sucker's retarded, offensive mom, at all ; but Rachel and Christine, the runt and Ophelia, Stacey and what's her facey... all of them. I'm sorry for them, I'm sorry of them, I truly wish this story'd have worked out much better for each and every last one of 'em. Not because they're the only innocents in this regrettable pile of wreck, but because they're the only deserving parties, the only ones who did their life's work, and did it well -- or at the very least, as well as anyone ever showed them how. Each battlefield must have a winner, and a loser ; but the horses carrying the victorious chevalliers aren't any less thereby than the hurt and maimed horses carrying the routed side.

Sad horse of a sad rider galloping in a froth to empty nowhere, my heart bleeds out with you. [↩]It's night here, recent, early night. Ensconced in a presidential armchair, the girls gone to the gym, the geckos cackling now and again, I wipe a tear, and prepare to make an end of this last week's work. [↩]Bureaucracy is the vilest career. [↩]That's okay, I'm sure they will turn out fine anyways. [↩]Oh, for some reason I thought this joker had three daughters. [↩]"You rap good, just like a roller, Mister!" [↩]Well, would or could ? [↩]Let's call her Peperone, for the obvious treasons. [↩]Everyone's close friends are few ; except for those who don't have any friends at all. [↩]They will have to wait forever, I have absolutely no interest in the swampy misery of this schmuck as reclaimed and reconstructed by organised mediocrity. The original article was bad enough. [↩]Thus ends, and here ends this one of the best books I've ever read, terribly written. But then again how terribly written could it have been -- I've read it, haven't I ? [↩]

« Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 21 -- The steel casket.

Desperation in desolation »

Category: Adnotations

Thursday, 22 October, Year 12 d.Tr.

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Introduction.

My original intent was to publish the whole book in one single article. Nevertheless, as I had barely reached halfway with the adnotations the item balooned towards 120k words, rendering it too large for Trilema to handle.i So I guess you're stuck with the fauilleton format, like used for all the other novel-length items here.ii A pity, too, because I was really enjoying spitting out footnote lcxxxiv sorta thing.

A pimp is happy when his whores giggle. He knows they are still asleepiii... all whores have one thing in common just like the chumps humping for the white boss. It thrills 'em when the pimps makes mistakes. They watch and wait for his downfall.iv

"A pimp is the loneliest bastard on Earth. He's gotta know his whores. He can't let them know him. He's gotta be God all the way."v

FOREWORD

Dawn was breaking as the big Hog scooted through the streets.vi My five whores were chattering like drunk magpies. I smelled the stink that only a street whore has after a long, busy night. The inside of my nose was raw. It happens when you're a pig for snorting cocaine.

My nose was on fire and the stink of those whores and the gangster they were smoking seemed like invisible knives scraping to the root of my brain. I was in an evil, dangerous mood despite that pile of scratchvii crammed into the glove compartment.

"Goddamnit, has one of you bitches shit on herself or something?" I bellowed as I flipped the long windowviii toward me. For a long moment there was silence.

Then Rachelix, my bottom whore, cracked in a pleasing ass-kissing voice. "Daddy Baby, that ain't no shit you smell. We been turning all night and ain't no bathrooms in those tricks' cars we been flipping out of. Daddy, we sure been humping for you, and what you smell is our nasty whore asses."x

I grinned widely, inside of course. The best pimps keep a steel lid on their emotions and I was one of the iciest. The whores went into fits of giggles at Rachel's shaky witticism. A pimp is happy when his whores giggle. He knows they are still asleep.

I coasted the Hogxi into the curb outside the hotel where Kim, my newest, prettiest girl, was cribbing. Jesus! I would be glad to drop the last whore off so I could get to my own hotel to nurse my nose with cocaine and be alone. Any good pimp is his own best company. His inner life is so rich with cunning and scheming to out-think his whores.xii

As Kim got out I said, "Goodnight Baby, today is Saturday so I want everybody in the street at noon instead of seven tonight. I said noon, not five minutes after or two minutes after, but at twelve noon sharp I want you down, got it, Baby?"

She didn't answer, but she did a strange thing. She walked into the street around the Hog to the window on my side. She stood looking at me for a long moment, her beautiful face tense in the dim dawn.

Then in her crisp New England accent she said, "Are you coming back to my pad this morning? You haven't spent a night with me in a month. So come back, okay?"

A good pimp doesn't get paid for screwingxiii, he gets his pay off for always having the right thing to say to a whore right on lightning tapxiv. I knew my four whores were flapping their ears to get my reaction to this beautiful bitch. A pimp with an overly fine bitch in his stable has to keep his game tight. Whores constantly probe for weakness in a pimp.xv

I fitted a scary mask on my face and said, in a low deadly voice, "Bitch, are you insane? No bitch in this family calls any shots or muscles me to do anything. Now take your stinking yellowxvi ass upstairs to a bath and some shut eye, and get in the street at noon like I told you."xvii

The bitch just stood there, her eyes slitted in angerxviii. I could sense she was game to play the string out right there in the street before my whores. If I had been ten years dumberxix I would have leaned out of that Hog and broken her jawxx, and put my foot in her ass, but the joint was too fresh in my mind.xxi

I knew the bitch was trying to booby trap me when she spat out her invitation. "Come on kick my ass. What the hell do I need with a man I only see when he comes to get his money? I am sick of it all. I don't dig stables and never will.xxii I know I'm the new bitch who has to prove herself. Well Goddamnit, I am sick of this shit. I'm cutting out."

She stopped for air and lit a cigarette.xxiii I was going to blast her ass off when she finished. So, I just sat there staring at her.

Then she went on, "I have turned more tricks in the three months I have been with you than in the whole two years with Paul. My pussy stays sore and swollen.xxiv Do I get my ass kicked before I split? If so, kick it now because I am going back to Providence on the next thing smoking."

She was young, fast, with trick appeal galore. She was a pimp's dream and she knew it. She had tested me with her beefxxv and now she was lying back for a sucker response.

I disappointed her with my cold overlay. I could see her wilt as I said in an icy voice. "Listen square-ass Bitch, I have never had a whore I couldn't do without. I celebrate, Bitch, when a whore leaves me. It gives some worthy bitch a chance to take her place and be a star. You scurvy Bitch, if I shit in your face, you gotta love it and open your mouth wide."

The rollers cruised by in a squad car so I flashed a sucker smile on my face and cooled it until they passed.xxvi Kim was rooted there wincing under the blizzard.

I went on ruthlessly, "Bitch, you are nothing but a funky zero. Before me you had one chili chump with no rep. Nobody except his mother ever heard of the bastard. Yes Bitch, I'll be back this morning to put your phony ass on the train."xxvii

I rocketed away from the curb. In the rear-view mirror I saw Kimxxviii walk slowly into the hotel, her shoulders slumped.xxix In the Hog, until I dropped the last whore offxxx you could have heard a mosquito crapping on the moon.xxxi I had tested out for them, "solid ice."xxxii

I went back for Kim. She was packed and silent. On the way to the station, I riffled the pages in that pimp's book in my head for an angle to hold her without kissing her ass.

I couldn't find a line in it for an out like that.xxxiii As it turned out the bitch was testing and bluffing right down the line.

We had pulled into the station parking lot when the bitch fell to pieces. Her eyes were misty when she yelped, "Daddy, are you really going to let me split? Daddy, I love you!"xxxiv

I started the prat action to cinch her when I said, "Bitch, I don't want a whore with rabbit in her. I want a bitch who wants me for life.xxxv You have got to go after that bullshit earlier this morning, you are not that bitch."

That prat butchered her and she collapsed into my lap crying and begging to stay. I had a theory about splitting whores. I think they seldom split without a bankroll.xxxvi

So, I cracked on her, "Give me that scratch you held out and maybe I will give you another chance."

Sure enough she reached into her bosom and drew out close to five bills and handed it to me.xxxvii No pimp with a brain in his head cuts loose a young beautiful whore with lots of mileage left in her. I let her come back.

When at long last I was driving toward my hotel I remembered what Baby Jonesxxxviii, the master pimp who turned me out, had said about whores like Kim.

"Slim," he had said, "A pretty nigger bitch and a white whore are just alike. They both will get in a stable to wreck it and leave the pimp on his ass with no whore. You gotta make 'em hump hard and fast to stick 'em for long scratch quick. Slim, pimping ain't no game of lovexxxix, so prat 'em and keep your swipe outta 'em. Any sucker who believe a whore loves him shouldn't a fell outta his mammy's ass."

My mind went back to Pepper. Then back even further and I remembered what he had said about The Georgiaxl.

"Slim, a pimp is really a whore who has reversed the game on whores. So Slim, be as sweet as the scratch, no sweeter, and always stick a whore for a bundle before you sex her. A whore ain't nothing but a trick to a pimp. Don't let 'em Georgia you. Always get your money in front just like a whore.

On the elevator riding to my pad I thought about the first bitch who had Georgied me and how she had flim-flammed me out of my head. She would be old and gray now, but if I could find herxli I would sure get the bitch's unpaid account off my conscience.

PREFACE

In this book I will take you, the reader, with me into the secret inner world of the pimp. I will lay bare my life and thoughts as a pimp. The account of my brutality and cunning as a pimp will fill many of you with revulsionxlii, however, if one intelligent, valuablexliii young man or woman can be saved from the destructive slime ; then the displeasure I have given will have been outweighed by that individual's use of his potential in a socially constructive manner.xliv

I regret that it is impossible to recount to you all of my experiences as a pimp. Unfortunately, it would require the combined pages of a half-dozen books. Perhaps my remorse for my ghastly life will diminish to the degree that within this one book I have been allowed to purge myself. Perhaps one day I can win respect as a constructive human being.xlv Most of all I wish to become a decent example for my children and for that wonderful woman in the grave, my mother.xlvi

———Not even fucking kidding, piece of shit spits out an empty edit box, attempts to force it produce "Are you sure you really want to do this" inane warnings, the 'compare revisions' functionality still works sorta half-way... a sad mess.

I'm not about to debug it, either. Let whoever the fuck is responsible for the shit that computers have turned into hang his head in shame -- this "you can always fix it later" delusion has to come to an end. Preferably, with the physical, (and violent! and painful!) end of everyone responsible -- which means everyone involved ; which means everyone alive then. [↩]I had been vaguely contemplating the notion of reassembling all such pieces into single-article items, and maybe adding a special page listing them, as I doubt anyone has a clue just how many books Trilema contains. But the fact of the matter is... [↩]I expect he very much means this thing. [↩]Holy shit the sad life of this guy.

Certainly, all whores are scrying the skies, consisting for them of the eyes of their god, for signs on the end. It... thrills them, sure, after a fashion ; like cold water goes in one place so goes cold water throughout, it... thrills. This is very much not the same as desire, nor even expectation.

Unless, of course, one's very lonely indeed. In that case distances melt, cities merge, an informous dust invades the continents... [↩]If this were so... how would it be possible for them to ever come home ? [↩]I'm by now satisfied this character's speaking from experience. [↩]Aren't you curious how much, by the way ? I ask because yesterday I said "da fuck, we have no fucking money" right before opening a drawer to drop the stack in my hand into, and that square-foot drawer happened to be crammed, two-three layers thick, with assorted currency bricks. Everyone laughed, my notion's unchanged, what the fuck, not even a pallet.

So... what's a pile of scratch ? [↩]For the newer audience, the "long windows" would be those shitty triangular portions of glass fitted between either the windshield and the actual side window or otherwise between the rear window and the back side windows. They were a technological necessity before the 80s machining revolution and the advent of plastics, because handling curved surfaces was back then outside of the commercially accessible. Before electric motor craned windows, it was actually easier to flip the thing than to hand-crank the window down, and so they generally came with a seal that yielded to hand pressure, meaning you could generally take a leak into anyone's "locked" car if you felt like it. [↩]Yeah, right, Rachel. That was her name. They had a whole lotta bottom bitches named Rachel back before the 80s machining revolution and the advent of plastics, in fact they had so many bottom bitches named Rachel they were almost putting the Jeniffers outta da biz! And they themselves sung!

I suspect he might've changed the names. Actually, scratch that, I looked it up and yes he did, s'as to resolve the conflict between "no snitchin'" and "tellin' it true". [↩]Ouch. [↩]Oh, it's the car name!

Do you suppose he changed that also, or do you think like I do, that indeed cars are so much more estimable than mere women, ol' Hog here got to keep his name ? Think of it, if you will : merely a heap of metal, disturbed from its underground slumber one day to be made into a shiny automobile. Just like you were. And well... it was kinda fun at times, this new life, like say sparkling happily in the sun, half-curiously, "what's all this about then ?!" and sometimes there'd be a shining, with wax and all, and delicious gasoline... It was a great life, here and there, a great life that eventually ended, like all great life ever ends, on a scrap heap. Somewhere. Who even knows where, anymore ?

Yet the name is remembered. "Rachel" isn't. [↩]What sort of deranged ownership is this, where you don't even hang out with them! Pshaw.

Sounds more like bus driving. [↩]Rather, the erect penis is the only element in short supply. [↩]Apparently the call is a familiar concept to pimps. Who knew! [↩]Aaactually, it's women generally, and it's for support not for fucking weakness, whence all this adversarial positioning and hostility all the damn time! Not everything gotta be painted in the darkest color available, what the hell's this emo bullshit. [↩]The term's plurisemic, but here it says she's mulatto, part-white. [↩]Much too fucking verbose.

I don't know what notions of "game tightness" he entertains, but "Bitch, are you insane ?" was absolutely sufficient (though fucking insane is probably better form). Let her do the exposition, it's her fucking job, after all. [↩]Nobody likes a dork who talks too much.

I'd know, I mean Trilema's what, a trillion words long, rite. [↩]Ahahaha that's a great way to put it. [↩]Yep, fucking dumb. Breaking your own whore's jaw is a lot like scratching your own car. [↩]Bwahahaha, what the fuck! I do this alllll the time, what fucking joint ?!

Insanity. Speaking of which -- very polite (and intellectually lively, knew the sprawling town better than most) young gent driving his cab downtown, asked us after settling on a direction, how we're doing. First me, you know, and upon gladening himself that I'm fine (that's what they say here, "me alegro" ; there's actualy an even more elaborate a-word in usage for the same purpose, but I don't recall it right off), turning to Hannah (I mean Rachel) further inquired how the lady is doing ; to which I cut off with "oh, she's doing better than all of us", which, while not necessarily true, was very much superlative in the vein of his expectation, producing a flurry of oh, that's exactly how it should be, for what are we, mere hombres etcetera.

Fucking bizzare, I'll tell you that. BOTH OF THEM. [↩]This is very much nonsense in the "being a lesbian" vein. Nobody ever said it and meant it, though plenty are too fucking clueless to know what they mean from what they don't. [↩]She's not leaving. [↩]Fancy that complaint. You didn't even know such wonder existed, huh. [↩]Cunt. [↩]A scraped life, huh, a 2nd hand sorta cool. So far this dood's getting it from all sides, to the point one wonders where's enough room to even sit. So much for that whole casa quantu stai e tirrinu quantu viri, huh. [↩]I've actually done this myself (though I belted the chick's ass one more time before taking her to the station -- "But... I'm leaving." "You've not left yet".) ; something tells me he's not gonna carry through (the same thing, really, that told me she's not leaving). They're... entangled, so to speak. [↩]Who the fuck even wants to fuck azns ?! I confess the continued fertility of Asia is an enduring mystery to me. [↩]Somehow doesn't sound like that much of an achievement, does it. The narrative evidently pulls towards casting it as such, but... Well ? [↩]Why the fuck would you house them apart ? Is it... could it be fear, perhaps ? [↩]The moon...has...no atmosphere. [↩]But don't you ever want to... talk to your women ?! I mean seriously now, if silence's such a preferable alternative, why not just drive the Goh empty ? Sure, no argument, silence's way the fuck better than dumb bitch bullshit -- but I mean you are supposed to educate them such as you can live with them, neh ? If that ain't the standard, what is ?

Then again, I suppose if that actually were the standard you'd necessarily have to be smart and rich, meaning neither need to nor inclined to actually whore them out. [↩]Oh god, the amateurishness. Here : "You ~actually~ want a ticket to Providence ? Or should I splurge and >ship you out to Florida< instead ? [Because the further you go the better]" Bait and switch, the oldest entry in that damned "book" every dicktom&chuckie keep on "writing" without ever having read ; and besides -- the impossibility of choice, pantsuitistan's first line paralytic, and foremost by usage. Suppose she stays until she decides if it's gonna be Jersey or Florida ? Or in any case until she gets over the high of having thought she's got it in only to discover she had been deluding herself ? Hm ?

Fucking noobs. [↩]So far, I can't imagine why.

I don't think the dood's lieing, by the way, bitches be weird. But that's a different discuntion. Or whatever, I suppose you call it discussion, though really you shouldn't permit the cuss to take over the cunt like that. [↩]Makes you wonder what he does with the old ones. Doesn't it ? [↩]Duh.

Actually, women don't split without someone else to go to, either, and so following -- it's after all what the pantsuit state's been doing to ruin the family : give them a surogate "someone else" to go to. [↩]It's not even about the money, either. Now of course he has to check whether she held out on tips or rather he needs a new bottom. [↩]Probably Albert Bell, of Omaha, Nebraska, 1899. [↩]And poker's no game of fun, and so on. [↩]The Georgia - Langley's most exquisite new condominium development. [↩]I'm so fucking unused to this marginal, desperate, barely hanging on, living day by day sort of underworld view -- what the fuck does he mean "if". Insanity. [↩]Specifically, the spurious simps that shouldn't a fell outta their mammy's ass. [↩]Valuable to whom the fuck ? [↩]Herp. [↩]Karen's not any more constructive, forget about it. [↩]This insufferably obsequious preface ain't helping anything. [↩]

« MiniGame (S.MG) Statement on Q3 2020

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 1 -- Torn from the nest. »

Category: Cuvinte Sfiinte

Thursday, 15 October, Year 12 d.Tr.

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 9 -- The butterfly.

I woke up. The sun was noon bright. I heard a squad of rats or something in the direction of the closet. I turned and looked. It was the runt. She was on her knees in the closet scraping and pulling suitcasesi and shoes around. The back of my skull was sore and throbbing.ii I touched it, and felt a crusty cap over the bump.iii

I thought as I watched the runt's rear end, "What the hell is she doing?"

I said, "Damn bitch, can't you put a damper on that racket? I gotta aching skull. I wake up, the first living thing I pin is the rusty black ass of a dizzy whore. She's digging a ditch in the closet. Now there's gotta be a prettier way to start a day."iv

She snapped her head around and said, "I'm looking for the reefer. I feel low. Where did you stash it? I couldn't find it last night when I came in."v

I got up and went to the closet. I ran my hand into the coat pocket stash. I separated my stuff from the reefer inside the pocket. I gave her the can. I saw two lonely saw bucks on the dresser. I went back and got into bed.

I said, "Bitch, I take an outside stash, where else? I don't wanta come home some night and greet a roller. Wouldn't it be a bitch if he had that can of one to two in the penitentiary in his mitt?vi Christ, your scratch for last night is shitty.vii What happened? Some joker stick you up? That reefer ain't making you lazy is it? A double-saw take for a young freak bitch is outrageous. Shit, you broke your luck for the double saw with the lover, Sugar Blue Eyes. You musta shot a blank the rest of the night. I'll murder you, bitch, if I find out you freak off all night with your tricks for a double saw."

She was licking at the sides of the joint she had rolled. She sat on the side of the bed next to me. She rolled her sassy eyes at me.

She said, "Daddy, I'm your girl. If I ever stop loving you, I'm gonna quit whoring for you. If you don't croak meviii I'll get another black man when we're washed up. Right now I'm in your corner all the way. White tricks don't move me. I want to vomit when they paw and slobber over me.ix I baby talk them, but I hate them. Daddy, I just want their scratch. I get a thrill with them all right. It knocks me out that here I am, a black nigger bitch, taking their scratch. A lot of them are clean-cut high muckty mucks in the white world. Some of them show me pictures of beautiful wives and cute children. It makes me feel greater than those white bitches living in soft luxury. Those white broads got nigger maids they laugh at. They think we ain't good for nothing but clowning and cleaning. It would give them a stroke to see their trick husbands moaning and groaning and licking between a black whore's thighs.x I know I ain't got no silky hairxi and white skin. I'm damn sure hip those white men ain't leaving Heaven to come to Hell every night just for the drive. They coming because those cold-ass white broads in Heaven ain't got what these black whores in Hell got between their legs. Black and low as I am, I got secrets with their white men those high-class white bitches ain't hip to. Now Daddy, we rap so little I got earned away. I ain't nobody's fool but yours. I wanted to rundown to you this morning about last night. You put me on the dummy remember? After I turned Chuck at the Martin, I got a roust. Two white vice coppers picked me up. They rode me around and felt over me. One of them was a mean, nasty bastard. The other, blond nice one, was sorry for me. Nasty said, 'I know this black bitch is a cinch ringer for those eight larceny from the person beefs.xii We oughta take her down and put her on a Show Up or two.xiii What the hell Carl, we know she's a whore.' Blondie said, 'But Max, she ain't no hard leg.xiv She's just a beautiful young sexy kid with a mother to support. You know how tough it is for bootsxv to get three squaresxvi and a roof in this town. Let's give her a break and cut her loose. Jesus Max, this broad has got a pair of thighs on her. She's soft as kitten fur.' Nasty said, 'Carl, you sure got a weak spot for spades. This broad says she's broke. That black ass of hers ain't enough to buy a pass from me. If she ain't too shy to show what her derby's like, maybe, I say just maybe, I might give her a break.' I'm driving into this alley. Carl, you test her lid and snatch. If you ain't raving how great it is upstairs and down when you finish, I'm gonna wheel outta this alley and toss her black ass in jail... I'm gonna book her on those eight counts of larceny. If she's lucky she'll get a deuce.' Daddy, Blondie pushed my head down to his lap. Then I got on the back seat with him. That freak bastard, Max, turned around and kept his flashlight on us the whole time. I made Blondie holler. I finished with Blondie. Max got back there with me. For a half hour he called me filthy names. He punched and pinched me. I'm sure sore all over. Blondie begged him to stop. My ass feels like he split something back there.xvii I had a rough time. Finally they let me out. Max told me to never let him see me again. I was scared so I came in. That's why the scratch is short. Max will bust me if he sees me again. You gonna have to find me another street to work."

I said, "You square-ass stupid bitch. You think you're a brain because you're hip that white men sneak through the stockade to lay black whores. Ain't a nigger sealed in here that don't know that. It don't make you great because those white sick fools leave that fine pussy in Heaven to find your stinking black ass in Hell. You chicken-heartedxviii bitch. You got a roust. They conned you to believe they could slap a bum rapxix on you. You're too dumb to know I'm gonna raise you. You rammed your funky finger in your sore ass.xx You took a powder from the track with a lousy double saw. You let those peckerwood coppers fuck you front, rear, sideways, and across. You simple bitch, I'm gonna find you another street to work? Now [that] you got like a license to hustle this one?xxi You ain't got to worry about Max and that other roller. Bitch, you can work it forever just so you don't get cancer of the cat or lockjawxxii. Bitch, if you don't get outta my face I'm going to the chair for slaughtering you. Get your clothes on. Get in the street and hump up some scratch. Bitch, don't come to that door unless you call me first. I ain't going nowhere."

She had been taking sucks on the reefer while she was rapping. She was high when I gave her the rundown on how she had been conned by the rollers. She leaped off the bed and went to the closet. She dressed and jerked her head around the whole time.

She knew I was angry. She was maybe afraid after that slaughter crack that I might goose her in the butt with my knife. She got out fast. I had Silas bring me some food and take my shirts and things to the cleaners. I ate and snorted some girl. Later I banged some.xxiii Except for the bump on my skull that still ached a little I felt all right.

I remembered Satan and the Demon wanting to see identification. I called Silas. He told me where to go. I could get a driver's license without a test for a saw buck under the counter. I dressed and made the trip. Sure enough I copped. I was back home in an hour.

I pulled a chair to the front window. I had my spy glass. It was still daylight. I didn't see the runt on the street. I spied into the greasy spoon across the street. The runt was sitting at the counter talking to a big black stud in overalls. He had trick engraved all over him. I saw them leave together and come across the street toward the Martin Hotel.

The scarfaced horn tooter who lived in four-twenty-two across the hall came out behind them alone. He got into a battered Ford and chugged away. It gave me an idea. After all, I could blow the runt. I picked up the phone and asked for connection to apartment four-twenty-two. The pretty yellow ex-whore "helloed." I was glad old Silas had given me a rundown on her. I could tailor my pitch.

I said, "Now try to control yourself baby. I'm the tall stud with the dreamy bedroom eyes across the hall in four-twenty. I'm the guy with the pretty towel wrapped around his sexy hips. I got the same hips on now that you x-rayed. Remember that hump of sugar your peepers feasted on?"

She said, "Maybe, but you shouldn't call me. I don't want an incident. What do you want? A lady doesn't accept phone calls from strangers."

I said, "A million dollars and a trip to the moon with a bored, trapped, beautiful bitch, you dig? I'm no stranger. I've been popping the elastic on your panties ever since you saw me in the hall."

She giggled. I could hear the thrill in her voice. The horn blower had taken her off the track, but the whore was alive and thrashing inside her.xxiv She had class. She had done more than screw on the fire escape at high school.xxv

She said, "I don't drink and besides I don't know you."

I said, "You met me in your first hot dream, remember? You know that pretty joker in your little girl dreams that always faded when you woke up wet between the legs. You waited and wished. You lucky bitch, I've stepped out of your dreams. I'm alive and real across the hall from you. Get over here, I'm gonna turn you on. Don't worry about the watch dog. I saw him split out of the greasy spoon ten minutes ago. Baby, I'm gonna have to make one of my whores bake you a cake with a saw in it."

She said, "You're not married to one of them? I don't want my throat cut. I don't want to break that old habit of breathing."

I said, "Yeah, I'm married. I'm married to the whore game. You're still a member of the club yourself. You just ain't paid any dues lately. Maybe if you ain't full of shit I can put you back in good standing. Now get over here!"

She said, "I'm raw.xxvi I'll have to slip on something. I'll come over for a minute. You're not a hype? I'm not hip to anything but grass."

I said, "No, sugar, I'm a lover and a beggar. I got black gunionxxvii, baby. You hip?"

I hung up. I went to the dresser mirror and powdered my face. I brushed my hair with a damp brush. My mop was black, bright and curly. I went to the closet and slipped on a wild yellow lounging robe. I had bought it the day before Dalanski busted me at the dance.

I had peeped at her hole card that day in the hall. I knew she was a freak. I remembered her eyes chained to my crotch. Now I didn't have on any towel. First chance I got I'd flash her into a boil, through the split in the front of the robe.

Maybe I could shoot some cocaine into that yellow virgin arm. That would open her up for sure. I might even steal her from scarface and put her back on the track tomorrow.

I thought, "This fine bitch is my speed. She's not a hard-leg dog with a million miles on her. She's no more than nineteen and sexy as the rear end of a peacock. I'll play it cool and quiz her. Maybe some asskicker booted her off the track. Maybe that's how scarface copped. I'll stay in the pimp role, but I'll sweeten it with a little highclass bullshit. Maybe I'll rap some of that gigolo garbage I overheard the white pimps in the joint rapping. I better call Silas. I'm not ready for trouble with Scarface. I went to the door and unlocked it. I picked up the phone and got Silas.

I said, "Listen Jack, this is important. I'm gonna be rapping to the big-butt yellow broad who lives in four-twenty-two. I'm gonna give you and the broad on the desk a fin a piece. You gotta wire me here when Scarface shows. I'm not ready for him to wise up. Got me?"

Silas said, "You lucky young sonuvabitch. A faggot in a Y.M.C.A. shower room ain't no luckier. You got salt and pepper, kid. We'll wire you. I'll stall the cage on the way up with him. Can I peep a little, kid, huh?"

I hung up. I felt a cool puff of draft on my ankles. I went into the living room. She had slipped into almost nothing. She was crossed legged in the chair at the window. She turned her head from the street and looked up at me.

She had on a thigh-long black negligee with pink butterflies sewn on. A pair of white silk panties gleamed through the black gauze. She curved inside it like a yellow Petty Girl.xxviii Her ebony hair was steepled on top of her skull like a black satin crown. I saw a frantic tic jerk at a corner of her melon-red mouth. If she turned out to have entasis, I swore I would give up whores and get hip to the sissy game.

She said, "Hi. I ask myself why I'm here?"

I said, "Baby, don't drag the party. Don't ask yourself stupid questions. You can't escape that freak, desperate spark. You know baby, that awful sweet electricity that makes a farm boy kiss a ewe. The same power that yowls a hot torn cat in the alley. You hip to it? Now just relax. I'm gonna roll you up a bomber. Baby, your luck has changed. You've hit the jackpot. You found me. Oh yea, my name is Blood."

She said, "'Blood' it's nice to meet you. I'm Christine. Chris I like better. I can't stay long. I have to be careful. My old man is very jealous."

I said, "Chris, you are gonna find out I'm a wild groove. You may stay a lifetime thinking it was only an hour. All we need is an understanding. All you need is a man."

Over the top of Chris's head I saw the runt flash her eyes up at the window. She was just getting into a white trick's car. Twilight was sweeping away daylight with a deep purple broom. I went to the bedroom. I loaded an outfit and tilted it spike up in my pocket. I rolled two bombers. One with reefer, the other in cigarette tobacco. I snorted a thumb tip of cocaine. I got a towel and put it next to the gap under the front door. I lit some incense.

I gave Chris the bomber. I lit it and my dud. With a package like Chris, reefer might confuse me. I might wake up swindled. If she had been Garbo, I still wanted scratch before snatch.

I got another chair. We sat there facing each other in the twilight. I waited for the reefer to fill her skull. The bomber in her hand was now a roach. I cock-tailed it for her. Her eyes were dreamy.

She said, "Goddamnit sweetheart, I'm high. You know Blood you're going to laugh when I tell you something. Guess what I was thinking when I saw you the first time in that towel?"

I said, "You thought, 'Oh my itching cat! That pretty brown bastard looks like a pimp. I wish to hell I was still whoring. I sure would like to kiss "Mr. Thriller, the killer" under that towel.' Am I right, sweet freak?"

She giggled and scooted her chair flush against my knees. She slid her back down in the leather chair. She put the heels of her pink shoes on the seat of my chair.

I was sandwiched between her big yellow legs. The street lamp came on, spotlighting her. She was still giggling. I fingered the ready jolt of cocaine in my robe pocket. I took it out and hid it against the side of my chair. I saw bluexxix veins pulsing on her inner thighs.

The cocaine had me strung on an icy rack. I raised her right leg and rubbed my cheek against it. I crushed her knee-cap between my teeth. She moaned. I gazed deep into her eyes. She had laughed tiny pearls of tears that clung to her long, silky lashes. Under the street lamp her face was innocent and soft as a yellow fawn's. I felt old as Methuselah.

She said, "Don't look at me like that. I know you can read minds. You give me the creeps with that look. It's like you're Svengali or that crazy Russian Monk I read about"

I said, "Chris, you're gonna be my whore. We gotta share things. That reefer was just an appetizer. Reefer is for low-class skunk broads. Heroin is for chumps bound for the graveyard. Cocaine is for brilliant, beautiful people. Chris, banging cocaine will spin a magic web of music and bells inside your skull. Every pore in your body will feel like Daddy's jugging his swipe in all over you. It will torch off a racy secret fire of life inside you. It's a miracle, Chris. You get all that thrill and no habit. I know you ain't chicken shit. Are you game to try?"

She said, "If it won't scar me or hurt me. If it hurts, promise you'll stop. Don't give me a lot, baby. Where you going to put it in?"

I took her left leg and put it on the arm of my chair. I saw a fat line high up on her thigh. I eased the spike into it. She flinched. The dropper flashed red. I pressed the bulb slowly. Her eyes widened. Her white teeth bit into her bottom lip.

I emptied the dropper. I pulled out the gun. She sat there stiffly. She took her leg off the chair arm. She rubbed the inside knobs of her ankles against my sides. I saw her Adam's apple spasm.

I remembered how I puked the first time. I slid my chair back and raced to the bedroom to get the wastebasket. I just made it back. She dumped a load into it. I flushed the mess down the toilet and rinsed the basket out. When I got back to her she was smiling and stroking her legs.

She said, "I'm sorry I did that naughty thing, daddy.xxx Oh! Oh! But now I feel heavenly. Baby, I'm so glad I came over and got this feeling. Aren't those bells something? Baby, you got a lot of this? I want to do this every day. Stay like this every minute. Let's lie down. I want a formal introduction to Mr. Thriller."

I said, "Bitch, when you come to me as my whore I'll keep your skull mellow. Now you gotta be joking about Mr. Thriller. He won't have anything to do with a broke bitch that claims a square horn blower as her man. Let's go over there while he's away and get your clothes. You're not married to him are you?"

She said, "How many girls do you have? Maybe your stable is too big for comfort. I get salty standing in a long line for my loving."

I said, "Whore, answer my question. What are you, a roller or something? When you are my whore you don't worry about anything but your own ass and scratch. Now answer my question."

She said, "Blood, I didn't want to answer because I am married to him. Leroy, that's my husband, saved my life really. He's been wonderful to me. He used to be good looking. He didn't get so insanely jealous until after his accident.

"We've been waiting over two years for a settlement. Blood, honestly, you are my kind of stud. My life is so screwed up. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to tell you. Would you believe that you're the first fellow I've talked to in over two years? Blood, I don't love Leroy."

That cocaine had her speed rapping. I couldn't cop her tonight unless I croaked Scarface. My plans had to change. I had to unhook her from Leroy soon. She'd make bales of scratch. Maybe I could work an angle to get her and a slice of that settlement. Of course, I couldn't wait forever. If I had to, I'd cop without a slice of the settlement.xxxi

I knew Leroy was going to blow her. He didn't have a chance to hold much longer with that ugly face and that jealous bit. I had to find out if she would level with me all the way. Silas had told me she was an ex-whore.

I said, "Chris, give me a fast rundown of your life story. I'll have all the answers for youxxxii when you finish."

She said, "If you let me sit in your lap."

I nodded and she climbed onto my lap. She hooked an arm around my neck. Her cheek was against my ear. The cocaine thudded her ticker against my breast. Out of the side of my eye I saw the runt go into the greasy spoon. I was hoping she wouldn't use the phone just inside the door and interrupt the rundown.

I felt her balloon bottom blasting heat to the throbbing cup of my lap. Too bad I worked so hard at the pimp game. Mr. Thriller was playing stiff con on me. He was just a fool at heart. The poor chump wanted to sucker out in that bed with this luscious doll. Good thing he had me to stand guard over him.xxxiii

She said, "I remember nothing but good until I was twelve. Then my mother died. My father had been a kind, good man, until then. He always worked. He was a good carpenter. He changed quickly after Mama died. He took my bed down. He said he wanted me to sleep with him. He told me how lonely his bed was after all those years with Mama. Nothing happened at first. One night a month later I had a nightmare. A wild ferocious animal was sucking my breast. It was terrible. I woke up. It was Papa. I screamed. He slapped me hard. His face was all twisted and hateful. He looked like a crazy stranger. I blacked out. When I came to Papa was crying and begging me to forgive him. After a while I would just lie there, numb, and let him use me. I hated his guts. In school I had the crazy feeling the students could see and feel my shame and filth. By the time I got fifteen I was a skeleton. By now he had me doing everything to him. I'm glad he's dead in Hell. Papa, the beast, was killing me. I was so nervous I couldn't wash dishes. I broke dozens. I wasn't eating enough to keep a bird alive. I collapsed one day coming from the grocery. I woke up in a hospital. My system was shot and I was pregnant.xxxiv I stayed in the hospital a month. I stayed at Papa's a week after I got out. I took some money while he slept and left Wichita with the clothes on my back. I came here and got a waitress job. A young pimp named Dandy Louee started picking me up when I got off. I thought he was a millionaire. He dressed me up and turned me out. He was a cruel black bastard. He liked to beat me, and then screw me.xxxv He worked me in a house run by one of his whores. He kept his foot in my ass. Funny thing, I made money even when my belly was stuck way out. A lot of tricks who came there wanted a pregnant girl. I lost the baby while turning a trick. Dandy got five years on a white slave rapxxxvi two months later. I got a bar-maid job and met Leroy. He was playing a gig in the spot. I was a sick girl. I fell out twice while serving the bar. The doctor said I needed rest. He said I couldn't expect to live long unless I rested. Leroy nursed me back to health. He was good to me. I needed someone who cared. I married him when I was just four months shy of seventeen. I went with Leroy on a string of one-nighters in the Midwest. The group broke up in Youngstown, Ohio. We were stranded. Leroy got a job in an industrial cleaning plant. The second week a boiler exploded and you've seen his face. His lawyer says we can expect a ten-thousand dollar settlement any time now. Leroy is driving me crazy with his jealousy. I don't mind hustling. I'd be your girl, Blood. I go for you, Blood. Are things clearer now? What should I do?"

I said, "You've had nothing but heartache. I feel so sorry for you, baby. Now I know you've got to be my woman. I gotta protect you. I gotta give you affection and understanding. Don't worry angel, with me life will be smooth as the snow at Sun Valley. You'll be so happy you'll be out of your mind half the time. With our color combination we could make a sonuvabitching baby together after we get rich. Tell me, does Leroy plan to work the Roost for a while?"

She said, "Oh! I forgot to tell you. Last night was his last night. They want him for another six weeks, but he's going to drop the Combo. It's too much headache to get them to show for work sober and on time. He's out now with a booking agent. I think he might go with a big band on an East-Coast tour. I hope he gets it. Band leaders want band members' wives to stay at home. Daddy, please figure things out fast. I want to be your girl as soon as possible."

I was sucking her scented cheek. I flogged my skull for a quick plot to tear the yellow gold mine from Scarface. The phone rang. She got out of her nest. I rushed to the phone. It was the excited broad on the desk.

She said, "Forgive me for goofing. Four-twenty-two went up two minutes ago. I was having a hassle with a check out. I saw him come in. It didn't register until the second that I called you. You better clean house fast."

I ran into the living room. I snatched her from the chair. I pulled her to the door. I cracked it. We peeped down the hall. Scarface was twenty yards away coming down the hall. He had a big stack of papers, maybe sheet music under his arm. He shifted the bundle to his other arm.

A paper fluttered to the carpet. He stooped to get it. I saw her door ajar. I stepped aside. I slapped her on the rump.xxxvii She blurred across through her doorway. Scarface was standing with his mouth open staring toward his now locked door.

He was sure he'd seen her. His face was puzzled. I shut my door easy like. I stood with my ear against the door. A bomb of sound shocked my eardrum. Someone was punching his fist against my door. I ran into the bedroom and got my switch-blade. I came back to the door. I held the open blade behind me. I opened the door.

It was Scarface. He looked like Mr. Hyde all right. His orangebrown eyes were spinning counter clockwise. I saw the bundle of papers in a careless heap in front of his door. His right mitt was deep in his coat pocket. I saw the faint outline of maybe a skinny lead pipe, or a gun barrel. I gauged the moves for a heart stab to beat his mitt out of his pocket.

I said, "Yeah Jack, what is it? I'm on the phone with my bondsman. The court just raised my bond on a double-murder beef. I'm in a bad mood. I don't want to buy anything."

He just stood there like a scarfaced zombie staring at me. He looked down at the carpet in front of my door. I looked down. A pink butterfly lay there like a silent indictment.

He heaved his chest and took a deep breath. It was like his last one. He stooped and picked it up. The eerie bastard took his other hand out of his pocket. Tears rolled down from his unblinking orange eyes as he stared at me. His scarred cheeks were quivering as he shredded the butterfly into pink lint on the carpet.

He turned and walked away. I shut my door and got a beak load of cocaine. I took the lounging robe off. It was dripping sweat. I showered. I sat in Chris's chair at the window. Her sweet odor was still rising from it. For an hour I heard a loud sobbing whine across the hall. It was Scarface chewing out Chris.xxxviii Mickey said midnight. I hadn't eaten since morning and I wasn't hungry. Cocaine was a strong con for the belly.

I thought, "I hope that jealous chump doesn't croak her. It would be like making a big bonfire out of hundred dollar bills. If she wasn't his wife and I had a rodxxxix, I'd go over there and claim her."

The phone rang. It was Silas.

He said, "What happened, kid? Was she a whiz in the sack? Did the joker catch her? I been busy. I ain't had a chance to check with you until now. I was worried about you, kid. The broad told me she was late with the wire. I stalled him in the cage."

I said, "It was very close, Silas. I'm a pimp, I didn't stick her. I'll take care of you and the broad this weekend when I pay my rent. Silas, if you get any news on the broad or Scarfacexl wire me fast."

He said, "Yeah, kid, you know me. I stay hip to what goes on around here. I'll keep you plugged in, kid. Good night. I'm going home."

I hung up and lay across the bed. I wondered if Max and Blondie had the runt hemmed up in an alley again. I smoked a reefer. I fell asleep. The phone woke me up. It was the runt.

She said, "Daddy, it's your baby. It's after two, can I come home?" I said, "Bitch, what kinda lines you got?"

She said, "I got thirty slats.xli I'm beat, Daddy. My tricks have been spades. You know how cheap they are and hard to turn. Can I come in?"

I said, "Come on in. Take a bath. Watch your jib, bitch. Don't irritate me. I've got a lot on my mind."

She'd been working more than twelve hours.xlii She was beat all right. Within a half hour after her bath she was snoring beside me.xliii I was dozing when the phone rang. I switched on the light. I picked up.

I said, "Hello."

Chris whispered, "Daddy, I can't talk long. Leroy's asleep. He found a butterfly that fell off my negligee. He's been raving like a crazy man. He knows I was over there. I got bad news for us. The band spot is out. He called and turned it down.xliv He's going to keep the combo and go through Ohio. His agent has a slew of one-nighters booked for him. He's taking me with him. Daddy, I won't forget us. I'll keep in touch. Maybe he'll go out before we leave tomorrow afternoon. I may get a chance to kiss you goodbye. I love you, Blood. I'm going to dream about Mr. Thriller until I --"

I heard the drowsy whine of Leroy's voice calling her name the instant before she hung up. I turned and looked at the runt. Her big mouth was wide open. Frothy slobber ran down her chin. Her sour hair had started to kink at the edges. She needed to go to the beauty shop downstairs.

I thought, "What kinda breaks am I getting?xlv I'm sinfully good looking. I'm lying here with a lather-mouth dog.xlvi The ugliest joker in the world is across the hall. He's in the sack with a pretty bitch whose nose is wide open for me. Something's gotta be done. Maybe after I cop Chris, I'll have the brass ring in my mitt."

I didn't sleep at all after Chris called. The runt woke up at noon. She went across the street and got our lunch. At two in the afternoon she was in the street.

Silas called. He told me Chris was checking out. I saw Chris and Scarface put their stuff in the car and drive away.

The runt came in at two A.M. with only twenty slats.xlvii She was shying away from white tricks. She was leery of Max and Blondie. I couldn't shake her out of it. She would rather turn spades for three or five dollars. She was afraid Max would catch her with a white trick.

Continued >>

———Think if you will, this dude's got suitcases. Multiple, plural. And a closet his runt can be ~in~.

Do you live less comfortably than the starving one-whore pimp of a century ago ? [↩]Concussion fo sho. [↩]Wouldn't you expect the bedding's positively filthy ? [↩]Remarkably upbeat for a beat-up pimp woken up by noise. I'm... not nearly as friendly if imprudently awokened, even without a bump -- which, I've never had one, so technically this is just a guess. [↩]Holy sprinklers of disaster, this chick's taking her life in her hands. Or she knows her sucker, I suppose ; but let it in passing be mentioned that a woken up Master's the last thing slavegirl's gonna be anything but lovey-dovey worshippy with, forget about this casually pissy impudence. Actually, I don't recall an instance where I was sleeping and my girls had anything to do in that room, I think if an actual fire started they'd still be hesitant. [↩]They kept pot in metal cans, like shoeshine wax, because at the time the metal can offered the best seal available -- no such thing as a ziploc in the 30s.

So what he's saying is that the can of pot is also a can of "one to two in the penitentiary", they're equivalent in context, and so should he come home and meet a policeman holding the can in his hand he'd be meeting a roller holding that can of one to two in the penitentiary in his mitt. Which'd be a bitch, perhaps, but not quite as much of one as the impossible phrasing he's rolling. [↩]In fact, between their assorted habits, the five dollars a day flapjacks and the hundred a week pad, either she's pulling thirty bucks a day or else they're eating up their savings. [↩]"Kill me", as in "please do". [↩]While she's not necessarily telling the truth, the fact is that most people aren't interested in exogamy. [↩]An' you thought you invented cunnilingus! [↩]It's not so much that white girl hair is silky necessarily, it's more that black girl hair is... well, you know, black girl hair. [↩]He thinks she'll fit the description of the perpetrator of eight purse snatchings or somesuch. Larceny from the person is minor theft in that vein, cinch is certain, sure, a ringer's a fit in this context and so on. A beef (unlike simply beef) is a complaint. [↩]It's called a line-up nowadays. [↩]Streetwalkers developed... well... if you spend all day walking your legs show it. [↩]Blacks. Literally because of bootblacking as an activity. [↩]Contraction of three square ("fair", no bullshit) meals. [↩]Police analinspection. They call it... well something or the other, these days. [↩]Cowardly, unvalorous. [↩]Bum raps were traditionally made-up charges to keep bums off the street (by keeping them in jail instead). The fact that they work reasonably well (both in the sense of discouraging bums from sticking around any town with active bum rapping, which satisfied the taxpayers, and also in the sense of keeping local jail traffic high, which gratified the cops by making them seem useful and important) enshrined them into current practice. The whore is not that different from the bum in a certain, squarely puritan worlview, and so the mechanism was readily extended to deal with them also, which is what drove whores to work for pimps : having someone on the outside asking questions nullifies a bum rap in practice, because its functioning is predicated on the bum having nobody in the world, as per the definition of a bum. As the remedy was socially useful (and thus tolerated) but not really legally sound, the courts weren't particularly keen to uphold it, so it didn't take all that much to push it over. This is then, from a "white world" / legalistic perspective, what the pimp actually was : the lowest class of bail bondsman, specializing in dealing with the legal trouble of a very narrowly specific class of client : streetwalkers picked up on bum wraps. Everything else is... well, coloreds' coloring of the matter.

Needless to say, the problem of the bum as here contemplated, and the formal manifestations thereof making these particular forms of social reaction "necessary" or at the very least the cheapest effective solution, belong in a specific gestalt, they're part of a complex, particular world, a post-rural, cvasi-industrial society torn apart by improved transportation (especially over railroads) but not yet captured by a sprawling, electrified bureaucracy. Between late 1800s and the 1950s at the latest, a relatively large contingent of low value, mobile white men posed some specific problems to settled society ; somewhere in a crack left between two imperfectly fitting planks of the period solution is whence the pimp with his stable was spurted, and it could therefore readily (as well as correctly) be said that if it weren't for the tens of thousands of white bums burning off their fat deposits a certain ineffectual way for incomprehensible reasons, the thousands of whores burning off their fats deposits another certain ineffectual way so the hundred of pimps here described could exist at all couldn't have existed in the first place. It is, ultimately but quite truthfully, white men that made Slim's life possible ; just -- not the white men he imagines.

To put the matter in social policy numerics, if out of a population of a hundred million there's fifty million employed males and ten thousand unemployable males because their own "romantic" notions / delusions of personality preclude them from obediently taking their place in the world, such as it is, because they think they're worth more than one-fifty an hour so they'll gladly take an average of eighteen cents instead, to cut off their nose to spite their face, then there's a Gross National Product of so-and-so billions, and nobody cares about the bums, they can all hang for all the difference it makes. Were someone to care about the bums for purely literary reasons, that someone could compute that ten thousand of them lose out a consolidated total of $32`000`000 per year. This bonfire of an anti-economic activity, where some people just decided to burn down 32 million worth of value (in the shape of their own life) each year because that's where their "artistic" take on life is pointing them, forces defensive expenditure on the part of society, in the vein of maybe a tenth that. Its inefficiency drives a further taxation opportunity, and so "the pimps in the country" (of which Sweet was no doubt the best) could gather about $320`000 a year in unearned rents, by exploiting the $3`200`000 social spending made necessary by $32`000`000 worth of antisocial activity. That Sweet realised perhaps a few percent of that total himself explains the only nigger with a Duesy ; and everything else. Let it not ever be said (as it is incorrectly said in, for instance, Travolti), that only the rich burn the products of industry so as to keep prices artificially elevated : the poor do exactly the same thing, for exactly the same reasons. [↩]I think she's saying she shouldn't have touched her fissure with a dirty finger, which is correct if unexpected. [↩]He has a point, the cops don't care enough for an encore. They are, after all, just men. They've already fucked her, and there isn't really anything else of interest to her.

The whole thing interlocks : the pimp, as a specialist streetwalker/notbum de-jailer, aims to optimize the efficiency of the girls, and drives them to productivity and quality of work, which is something they're too dumb, indolent and self-indulgent to develop on their own -- they're not capable of regarding themselves as mere objects, which completely prevents them from amounting to anything worth the mention.

His needs of security and control drive stationary location. Yes they're a herd, the whores, but a stabled herd, they're always in the same place ; which dovetails neatly with the social pressures of the time and place to create awareness in the market -- the customers know where to find the custom they're accustomed to. And... well, there you go, a whole new strand of life errupted into existence from specific, narrow, particular pre-conditions you wouldn't have esteemed beyond a flick of the finger on a sore butthole. Yet this is what life is, truly and universally, and what "punctuated equilibrium" even means in the first place.

This is also why you find it enthralling, fascinating, why you're lapping up the bad prose coming out of this illiterate, antisocial lout : not because you hate women, not because "you're insecure", not because any of that crap. It's fascinating because it's true life, in its own way and looking like it looks but nevertheless -- life. True, authentic, breathing life. You're not asked to like it anymore than you're asked to like coral reefs or wolf spiders ; you are however asked to weep, for it's meanwhile extinct. All life dies through pollution, and this here life died through paper pollution. The expanding of the bureaucrats' domains produced immense piles, deluvional quantities of pure poison, and all that filth's claimed various meanwhile extinct species. Such as this one. [↩]Tetanus.

You thought earlier, "oh, what's the problem with touching your anal fissure with your dirty fingers", because you think "oh, shit comes out of there, it's dirty anyway". No, it's not : you can't get tetanus from your own shit ; but you can get it from the outside environment. [↩]He snorted and banged some girl. Doesn't it have quite the ring to it ? [↩]"All of this is just abuse", right. [↩]Why, what did you think your whore was doing in highschool ? [↩]I think this means naked. [↩]Very tarry marijuana. [↩]Girls drawn by George Petty for Esquire. Early cheesecake. [↩]Blue, as opposed to brown or black. Unused. [↩]The appelative was rather common at the time. "Beat me up daddy, nine to the bar" does't necessarily imply the piano player's their pimp, you know ? [↩]Which is a big part of it : the pimp's pretty much the only male in these girls' immediate environment to whom they are worth something. Not play pretend, illusionary-delusionary poetic "something", but quite concretely a something in dollars and cents. Who doesn't love feeling wanted ? [↩]Right ? [↩]We can surmise she likes this one a lot better than the other one from the circumstance that he's not discussing her obvious con in those terms. Or maybe it's just that he feels he has less to prove ; maybe it's that the time he spent on Sweet's rug cut through his "baby fat" of childish pretense children imagine nobody can see through and so he's no longer desperate to use certain words to show Teach he's done his homework. [↩]Speaking of which, don't you wonder what they did about pregnancy ? I mean, obviously no condoms, but nevertheless, a healthy woman's pregnant just a few doses later, what gives ? [↩]And who doesn't. [↩]This was the fashionable moral panic of the period. [↩]That's some choice protectin' right there! [↩]I imagine that must've been one helluva trip. [↩]You'd think it'd be high time for a 38, after all he's got everything else up to and including fake liquor store certs. The thing is, he's affraid of using it. [↩]A bit of an anachronism, I suspect. The movie must've made an impact on the iceberg. [↩]Dat pimp life's gettin tough. [↩]2.25 an hour still slightly better than assembly-line work. [↩]I don't think I took half hour to fall asleep in my life, what the hell. If it ever takes that long I just give up on sleeping and go do something else. [↩]Because Slim's such a damnable coward. They could've invented anything, literally any retarded story'd have been better than the pubescent nuh-uh they managed to pull off. Even the plainest stonewalling -- let him go in, let him go back out. What's he gonna do, he's alone.

Go to the police and file a missing persons report ? All the better, they laugh at him, ask him to come back in three days ; meanwhile she goes back in after he's gone, takes a nap. When he returns she was maybe in the shower ? She doesn't know what he's about, she hadn't been anywhere. He must've missed her ? He has to simmer down ?

Or maybe he doesn't go anywhere, he just sits there, smokes, gets depressed and eventually what, shoots himself ? All the better. Put her on the street the next day irrespective. Let him run into her there, working. If he makes it through the night, let her run into her streetwalking. What's he gonna to, throw a fit ? Get really really angry and what, dump her ? Awww!!! What else, sue ? Who, the street ? Her ? For what, for divorce ? Oh noes.

Poor jazz player has no recourse and these two wiseguys act like they're fresh out of kindergarten. [↩]You're getting the breaks of not saying "Forget about it bitch, just duck out whenever he's playing, get on a bus, get your ass back here." [↩]God he's a hater. [↩]Cora the Red Prophetess. [↩]

« Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 8 -- Grinning Slim

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 10 -- The unwritten book. »

Category: Adnotations

Sunday, 18 October, Year 12 d.Tr.

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 21 -- The steel casket.

Seattle had played out. It was nineteen-fifty-eight. My stepfather died, leaving Mama all alone back in California. Her letters were full of her grief and loneliness. I had blown down to Rachel and the young hash-slinger I'd turned out.

I had put on fifty pounds since I kicked the habit. I weighed more than two-hundred pounds. Time had scissored away my hair in front. I didn't look much like the mug shot of that sleek escapee.

I smoked a little gangster and snorted cocaine now and then. I actually copped a cap of H once with my C. I wanted to mix it in a speedball. It was hard to flush the H down the drain.

At almost forty I was ancient as a pimp. I looked like a black, fat seal in my expensive threads.i For the first time in many years I had rediscovered my appetite for good food. I was slowing down. I spent most of my time reading in bed. The end of my pimping career wasn't far in the future.

I made the decision to go back to the fast track. I stayed away from old haunts. I had put my two girls to work in the street near downtown. Most of their tricks were white. I stayed in a nice hotel nearby. They lived together in the same hotel. Three months after I got back, a fire changed my pimping setup. The change set up the chain of events that busted me for the escape.

I was taking a walk. I stopped to watch flames gut an apartment building. An old brown-skin stud was watching beside me. He was a sure-shot craps hustler. He also sold working togsii to whores in houses in ten states. After the fire we went and had a drink together. We liked each other right away. For the next month we saw each other every day. I started going with him to the whorehouses to peddle his merchandise.

I'd always had contempt for whores who worked houses. They gave up fifty percent of the scratch to a madam. I'd always believed a good whore went to the street to meet the trick. Even when I had the houses in Ohio my whores got their tricks in the street.

Lazy, half-ass whores worked houses and let the trick come to them. My friend, Bet 'Em Big, convinced me whorehouses were the thing for me. His points were that the wear and tear on a pimp was less. The houses were protected and the madams were responsible for falls. Also a girl didn't need the complicated turn out for houses.

A pimp's blows would be at least fifty percent less in the houses. He told me at my age I could grind up a bankroll in the houses. Then I could open a couple of my own and live to get a hundred years old. I wouldn't live that long under the stress and strain of the street.

Two months later I had both my girls in houses. I got my scratch every Monday in money orders by registered mail. Just like he said, it was an easy way to pimp.iii The fifty percent off the top, I couldn't miss. I never had it.

The girls would work maybe a month or two before coming in to visit me.iv I spent the time between with Bet 'Em Big. He was a real pal. He blew his top when I ignored his advice and tapped almost out for a new fifty-nine Hog.

I loved him like a father. He knew all the percentages on craps and people. His friendship and wisdom maybe helped me to stay away from H. Maybe if I hadn't gone to jail I would have gone back to it. I was tempted a dozen times.v

I moved Stacy, the younger whore, to a house in Montana. It was March. She was up there for the season. This meant every six weeks or so I'd have to go up there to service her and tighten my game. She was lonesome. She'd call and write to tell me how much she missed me.vi

She fell out with the madamvii and started working in a house run by a stud in the same town. I told Bet I was going up to visit her.

He said, "Ice, you can't take good advice. You were a sucker to go broke on that new Hog. Now here is more good advice. Ice, not only should you not go up there, you better pull that fine bitch out of there. I know that stud. He's a snake. Pull her out! I know a spot in Pennsylvania just as good. Inside of two days you can pull her and place her."

I didn't take his advice. I took a train up to visit her.viii I rented a room in a motel. I registered as Johnny Cato. It was on the outskirts of town. The only Negroes ever in town were whores in houses and pimps come to visit them.

She'd come to the motel in early morning after work. She confessed to me that she woke up one day and found her boss in bed with her. In her alarm she struck him on the head with a heavy brass clock. It didn't chill him. He wiped the blood away and gave her fifty slats to get his rocks. He begged her to quit me and be his woman. It was a bitch of a time to tell me.

It was the third and last day of my visit.ix It was Sunday night around nine. She didn't work Sundays. We were playing around. I had my pajamas on. I had a cap of C in a pocket. I was just lighting a cigarette when a roller-type knock shook the door and me. I went to the door.

I said, "Yes, who is it?"

He said, "Police, open the door."

I opened it.x It was two red-faced Swede rollers. One was porcine, the other lanky. I put my shaking hands into the pajama pockets. My fingertips touched the scorching hot cap of cocaine. I hoped I was keeping the fear out of my face. I gave them a wide toothy smile. They came in and stood in the middle of the room. Their eyes were racing about the room. Stacy was open-mouthed in the bed.

I said, "Yes gentlemen, what can I do for you?"

Lanky said, "We wanta see your ID."

I went to the closet and got the phony John Cato Fredrickson ID. I put it in his palm. I felt cold sweat running down my back. They looked at it, then looked at each other.

Lanky said, "You are in violation of the law. You signed the motel register improperly. Why didn't you sign your full name? What are you trying to hide? What are you doing here in town? It says here you're a dancer. We don't have a club in town that books entertainers."

I said, "Officers, my professional name is Johnny Cato. I've got nothing to hide. My full name had always been too long for the marquees. I've fallen into the habit of using the shorter version. My legs went out last year. I don't dance anymore. My wife and I decided to go into business. We are making a tour of this part of the country. We think that in your town we've found the ideal site for a Southern fried chicken shack. My wife has a secret recipe that should make us rich up here."

Porky said, "You're a Goddamn black lying sonuvabitch. Every one of you niggers come up here to open another cat house or suck your whore's pussy.xi You and that bitch aren't married. You're a low life pimp and she's your whore. I've seen her around. I'm telling you boy, get your nigger ass out of town. We don't want you here."

I said, "Yes Sir, I'll forget about the restaurant like you say."

They turned and walked out. I knew Stacy's boss had put his finger on me. It was too late to catch the train back to the city. There was one a day at eight P.M. I knew they'd be back. I was trapped. I'd heard radio bulletins warning that the highways were snowed under. I couldn't even walk out of town. I snorted the sizzle and sat trying to figure a way out.xii

The chief of police came back at three the next afternoon. I let him in.

He said, "Boy, I'm not satisfied. I'm going to forget about the phony registration. Now there's a more serious matter. If you and this young woman aren't legally married. You've broken a law I can't overlook. When and where were you married?"

I thought fast. I tried to remember a courthouse fire from the newspapers. I couldn't.xiii

I said, "Sir, we were married three years ago in Waco, Texas. I just can't understand why you doubt we're married."

He said, "I'm going to take you in. I'm going to check your story. If you're telling the truth, I'll let you go. If not, you'll get a jail sentence."

He took us down. We were mugged and fingerprinted. Afterwards we were taken to his office.

He said, "Boy, you lied to me. I called Waco. There's no record of your marriage."

They locked us up. An hour later we walked out on two-hundred dollar bonds each.xiv We got a cab to the motel. I understood the bond delay. The joint had been searched. We got her stuff from the whorehouse and sat in the train station until eight P.M.

We got back to the city early that morning. I knew when my fingerprints got to Washington the F.B.I. would rush backxv the news I was a fugitive. I had to get out of town.

The police chief knew my destination when I left his town. "Bet 'Em Big" called Pennsylvania. Stacy was parked, ready to leave for the new spot the next day. The chief must have flown my fingerprints to Washington.

The city rollers, with a captain of guards from the joint busted Stacy and me. I was held for the escape. Stacy for harboring me.xvi There was one angle I couldn't figure. All the way to the lock-up it bothered me. How did the city police and that screw know just where in that big city to put their hands on me?

I had been transferred to county jail when I figured it out. I have made many stupid mistakes in my life. None was more stupid than the onexvii that put me back in the shit house. I had a letter in my bag from Stacy. The rollers that searched our room while we were in jail made a notation of my city address. I had played the hick coppers cheap and here I was with my balls in the fire.

Rachel rushed to me from the whorehouse. I fought the charge of escape. After all, they couldn't prove it to the extent that they could tell in court how I had escaped. At my first hearing I told the judge I hadn't escaped. I told him one night before midnight a screw unlocked the cell and took me to the front gate and released me.xviii I had a friend who had supplied the scratch for the underground release.

It was a very thin story, but it was strong enough to forestall my return to the joint. I was sure bad things would happen to me back there. Bet visited me. He offered to do anything for me. I was lost. No one could help me.

Mama came from California to visit me. She was sick and old. In fact she was dying. She had heart trouble and diabetes. I don't see how she made the trip. It was an old scene. I was in a barred cage. She was crying on the outside of it.

She sobbed, "Son, this is the last time we are going to see each other. Your Mama's so tired. God gave me the strength to make the long trip to see my poor baby fore I go to sleep in Jesus' arms. Son, it's too bad you don't love me as much as I love you."xix

I was crying. I was squeezing her thin, pale hands in mine between the bars.

I said, "Now look Mama, you know we all got Indian blood in us. Mama you ain't gonna die. Mama, I'll live to get a hundred like Papa Joexx, your father. Come on now Mama, stop it. Ain't I got enough worry? Mama I love you. Honest Mama. Forgive me not writing regular and stuff like that. I love you Mama, I love you. Please don't die. I couldn't take it while I'm locked up. I'll take care of you when I get out. I swear it Mama. Just don't die. Please!"xxi

The screw came up. The visit was over. His hard face softened in pity as he looked at her. He knew she was critically sick. I watched her move slowly away from me down the jail corridor. She got to the elevator. She turned and looked at me. She had a sad, pitiful look on her face. It reminded me of that stormy morning long ago she had stood in the rain and watched the van taking me to my first prison bit. I get a terrible lump in my throat even now when I relive that moment.

A week passed after Mama visited me and went back to California.

I went into court for the third and last time. The judge ordered me into the custody of the joint's captain of screws. Stacy was released.

The captain and his aide were grimly silent. Their prison sedan sliced through the sparkling April day. I was on the rear seat. I gazed at the scurrying, lucky citizens on the street. I wondered what they'd use on me at the joint, rubber hoses or blackjacksxxii? I felt so low. I wouldn't have cared if I'd dropped dead right on the car seat.xxiii

We went through the big gate into the joint. The warm April sun shone down on the ancient grimy buildings.

The yard cons leaned on their brooms. They stared through the car window at me. The sedan came to a stop. We got out. They took off my handcuffs. I was taken into the same cell house from which I'd made the escape thirteen years before. I was locked in a cell on the flag.

In the early afternoon a screw marched me to the office of the chief of the joint's security. He looked like a pure Aryan storm trooper sitting behind his desk. He didn't have a blackjack or a rubber hose in his hand. He was grinning like maybe Herr Schickelgruberxxiv at that railroad coach in France. His voice was a lethal whisper.

He said, "Well, well, so you're that slick blackbird who flew the coop. Cheer up, you only owe us eleven months. You're lucky you escaped before the new law. There's one on the books now. It penalizes escapees with up to an extra year.xxv Ah, what a shame it isn't retroactive. I am going to put you into a punishment cell for a few days. Nothing personal mind you. Hell, you didn't hurt me with your escape. Tell me confidentially, how did you do it?"

I said, "Sir, I wish I knew. I am subject to states of fugue. I came to that night and I was walking down the highway a free man. Sir, I certainly wish I could tell you how I did it." His pale cold eyes hardened into blue agates. His grin widened.

He said, "Oh, it's all right my boy. Tell you what, you're a cinch to get a clear memory of just how you did it before long. Put in a request to the cell-house officer to see me when you regain the memory. Well good luck my boy, 'til we meet again."

A screw took me to the bathhouse. I took a shower and changed into a tattered con uniform. A croaker examined me, then back to the cell house. The screw took me to a row of tiny filthy cells on the flag. My first detention cell was on the other side of the cell house. The screw stopped in front of a cell. He unlocked it. He prodded me into it. It was near the front of the cell house. I looked around my new home.

It was a tight box designed to crush and torture the human spirit. I raised my arms above me. My fingertips touched the cold steel ceiling. I stretched them out to the side. I touched the steel walls. I walked seven feet or so from the barred door to the rear of the cell. I passed a steel cot.

The mattress cover was stained and stinking from old puke and crap. The toilet and washbowls were encrusted with greenish-brown crud. It could be a steel casket for a weak skull after a week or two. I wondered how long they'd punish me in the box.

I turned and walked to the cell door. I stood grasping the bars, looking out at the blank cell-house wall in front of me.

I thought, "The Nazi figures after a week or so in this dungeon I'll be crying and begging to tell him how I escaped. I'm not going to pussy-out. Hell, I got a strong skull. I could do a month in here."

I heard a slapping noise against the steel space between the cells. I saw a thin white hand holding a square of paper. I stuck my arm through the bars of my cell door. I took the paper. It was a kite with two cigarettes and three matches folded inside.

It read, "Welcome to Happiness Lane. My name is Coppola. The vine said you're Lancaster, the guy who took a powder thirteen years ago. I was clerking in an office up front. I took my powder a year and a half ago. They brought me back six months ago. I've started to cash in my chips a dozen times. You'll find out what I mean. I've been right in this cell ever since. I got another year to go with the new time stacked on top for the escape. I got a detainer warrant from Maine for forgery up front. We're in big trouble, buddy. The prick up front has cracked up four or five cons in these cells since I came back... There's six of us on the row now. Only three are escapees. The rest are doing short punishment time like two days to a week. I'll give you background on other things later, I know what screws will get anything you want for a price."

I lit a cigarette and sat on the cot. I thought, Coppola is a helluva stud to keep his skull straight for six months on Happiness Lane. He doesn't know I'm just here for a few days."xxvi

That night we had a supper of sour Spanish rice. I heard the shuffling feet of cons filing into the cell house. They were going into their cells on the tiers overhead. The blaring radio loudspeakers and the lights went off at nine. Over the flushing of toilets and epidemic farting, I heard my name mentioned. The speaker was on the tier just above my cell.

He said, "Jim, how about old Iceberg, the mack man? Jim, a deuce will get you a sawbuckxxvii the white folks will croak him down there. A pimp ain't got the heartxxviii to do a slatxxix down there."

Jim said, "Jack, I hope the pimp bastard croaks tonight. One of them pimps put my baby sister on stuff."xxx

I dozed off. After midnight I woke up. Somebody was screaming. He was pleading with someone not to kill him. I heard thudding sounds. I got up and went to the cell door. I heard Coppola flush his john.

I stage whispered, "Coppola, what's happening, man?"

He whispered, "Don't let it bug you, Lancaster. It's just the night screws having their nightly fun and exercise. They pull their punching bags from the cells on the other side. It's where drunks and old men are held for court in the morning. Buddy, you ain't seen nothing yet. Don't give them any lip if they ever come by and needle you. They'll beat [the] hell out of you. Then take all your clothes off and put you in a stripped cell. That's one with nothing in it, just the cold concrete floor. Buddy, there are at least a dozen ways to die in here."

All the rest of the night I lay staring at the blank dirty wall in front of me. I wondered what Rachel and Stacy were doing. I had to make contact with a screw to mail some letters on the outside for me. The joint censors would never let whore instructions pass through.xxxi Every few minutes a screw would pass and flash his light on me.

That morning I watched the cell-house cons file past my cell on the way to breakfast and then to their work. All new arrivals the day before were also in this line.

That afternoon I got letters from Stacy and Rachel. They had also sent money orders. They missed their strongxxxii right arm. They were working bars downtown. "Bet" was handling any falls they might take.

Coppola within the first week hipped me to the angles of survival. I had a screw who would take letters directly to the girls. He would get his pay-off from them. He would bring me cash from them.xxxiii

I got a letter from Mama. I could hardly read the shaky writing. She sent me religious tracts inside it. I was really worried about her. The tight cell and the fear of a year in it was getting to me.xxxiv The little sleep I got was crowded with nightmares. I was eating good at high prices. I still lost weight.xxxv

The first month I lost thirty pounds. Then I got bad news twice within the fifth week. I got a letter from Stacy. Bet had been found dead on his toilet stool at home. It really shook me. He had been a real friend. I got a very short note from Rachel. She was in Cleveland.

It said, "I ran into an old doctor friend of yours the other night. He was looped. He bought me a drink. Lucky for me the bartender asked how you were doing. The doctor spilled his guts. He told me about a dead patient of his who came back to life. My worst wishes. P.S. Please drop dead. I'll keep the Hog."xxxvi

The joint waived the balance of Coppola's time to face the rap in Maine. The skull pressure was getting larger. The cell was getting tighter. With Coppola gone I was in real trouble the third month. It was like a deadly hex was at work to crack me up.xxxvii

None of the screws would cop heavy drugs for me. I settled for whiskey. I stopped using the safety razor. I didn't want to see the gaunt ugly stranger in my sliver of mirror. It wasn't just the cell. It was the sights and sounds of the misery and torment on the row and in the nightmares.

Mama was bedridden. She was too sick to write. I got telegrams and letters from her friends. They were all praying that I'd get out before Mama passed. I got a pass to the visitors cage. A screw took me and stood behind me the whole time. It was Stacy. She was pregnant and living with an old hustler. Her eyes told me how bad I looked. Her letters dropped off to one a month with no scratch.xxxviii

At the end of the fourth month my skull was shaking on my shoulders like I had palsy. A con on the row blew his top one night around midnight. He woke up the whole cell house. At first he was cursing God and his mother. The screws brought him past my cell.

In my state the sight of him almost took me into madness. He was buck naked and jabbering a weird madman's language through a foamy jib. It was like the talking in tongues Holy Rollers do. He was jacking-off his stiff swipe with both hands. I gnawed into my pillow like the runtxxxix to keep from screaming.

The next day I put in a request to see the Nazi. Nothing happened. A week later I was sitting on the John with my head between my knees. I heard the morning line moving to breakfast. The line had stalled for a moment right outside my cell door.

I looked up into a pair of strange almost orange eyes sunk into an old horribly scarred face. It was Leroy. I had stolen Chris from him many years ago. He still remembered me. He stared at me and smiled crookedly as the line moved out.xl

I got my screw to check his rap sheet. The screw gave me the whole rundown. Since nineteen-forty Leroy had been arrested more than a hundred times for common drunk[edness]. He had also been committed to mental hospitals twice. I was forty-two. I was twenty when I stole Chris from him.xli I asked the screw to pull strings to send him to another cell house. I gave him a rundown on the Chris steal and how weak Leroy had been for her. The screw told me he couldn't cut it.

Leroy was doing only five days for drunk[edness]. Leroy had to stay in the cell house. I wondered how Leroy would try for revenge. I had to be careful in the morning for the next five days. I had to keep my feet and legs away from the cell door. Leroy might score for a shiv and try to hack something off when he passed my cell. I worried all day about what he would do. Could he somehow get gasoline and torch me?

That night I heard the voice for the first time. The lights were out. The cell house was quiet. The voice seemed to be coming through a tiny grille at the head of the cot.

A light always burned in the breezeway behind the grille. The pipes for all the plumbing for the cells were there. I got down on my hands and knees and looked through the grille's tiny holes. I couldn't see anybody.

I got back on the cot. The voice was louder and clearer. It sounded friendly and sweet like a woman consoling a friend. I wondered if cons on one of the tiers above me were clowning with each other.

I heard my name in the flow of chatter. I got back down and listened at the grille. A light flooded the corner. It was the screw. I spun around on my knees facing him. The light was in my eyes. He said, "What the hell are you doing?"

I said, "Officer, I heard a voice. I thought someone was working back there."

He said, "Oh, you poor bastard. You won't pull this bit. You're going nuts 'Slim.' Now stop that nonsense and get in that cot and stay there."

The cellhouse lights woke me up. My first thought was Leroy. I got up and sat on the cot. Then I thought about the voice. I wasn't sure now. Maybe it had been a dream.

I wondered whether I should ask the screw about it. One thing for sure, dream or not, I didn't want to go nuts. My mind hooked on to what I'd heard the old con philosopher say about that screen in the skull. I remembered what the books at federal prison said about voices and even people that only existed inside a joker's skull.

I thought, "After this when I get the first sign of a sneaky worry, thought or idea, I'll fight it out of my skull."

Maybe I wasn't dreaming when I heard that voice. If I hear it again I'll have some protection. I'll keep a strong sane voice inside to fight off anything screwy from going on.xlii

Every moment I'll stand guard over my thoughts until I get out of here. I can do it. I just have to train that guard. He's got to be slick enough not to let trouble by him. I'll make him shout down the phony voices. He'll know they're not real right away.xliii

I got up and went to the face bowl. I heard the rumbling feet of the cons coming off the tiers. I was washing my face. I heard a series of sliding bumps on the floor behind me. It was like several newsboys all throwing your paper on the porch in rotation. Then I smelled it. I turned toward the door. I squinted through the soap on my eyelids. I had been bombed with crap.

It was oozing off the wall. The solid stuff had rolled to my feet. Pieces of loosely rolled newspaper were the casings. Cons were passing my door snickering. I felt dizzy. A big lead balloon started inflating inside my chest. I remembered the inside guard. He was new and late on the job. I puked.

I shouted over and over, "Watch out now, it's only crap, it's only crap. It's just crap. Watch out, it can't hurt you. It's only stinking crap."

A screw stood at the cell door twitching his nose. He was screaming, "Shut Up!"

He opened the cell. I got a bucket of hot water and a scrub brush. I cleaned the cell. The screw asked me who fouled my nest. I told him I didn't know.

My screw came to see me at noon. He told me how Leroy had enlisted the crap-bombers. Leroy told them I had put the finger on him years ago when he got the bit for the Papa Tony beating. My screw dropped the truth around the cell house. All the bombers were down on Leroy. They dared him to bother me again. I was safe from Leroy. I didn't mourn when Leroy finished his five-day bit. It was the end of my sixth month. I beat down worry, voices, and countless thoughts of suicide with the skull-guard plan.

A friend of Mama's sent me a telegram. Mama had been stricken.xliv The hospital doctorsxlv had given her up. Then she bounced back. She was very sick now, but still alive. The telegram gave my skull gimmick a tough test.

I had a very sad day around the middle of the seventh month. A booster from New York busted on his second day in town was on the tier above me. A con on my row several cells down called me one night to borrow a book. A moment later I heard my name called from up above. He came down next morning and rapped to me. His job was in the cell house.

The booster asked me if I were the Iceberg who was a friend of Party Time. I told him yes. He didn't say anything for awhile. Finally he told me Party had often spoken of me as the kid he once hustled with who grew up to be Iceberg the pimp.

He told me Party had copped the beautiful girlfriend of a dope dealer when he got a bit. Party turned her out. The dope dealer did his bit. The broad tried to cut Party loose to go back to a life of ease.

Party went gorilla on her. He broke her arm. Two months later Party copped some H. He didn't know his connection was a pal of the dealer who got the bit. It was H all right mixed with flakes of battery acid. I didn't sleep that night.

I had come to a decision in that awful cell. I was through with pimping and drugs.xlvi I got insight that perhaps I could never have hoped to get outside.xlvii I couldn't have awakened if I had been serving a normal bit. After I got the mental game down pat I could see the terrible pattern of my life.

Mama's condition and my guilty conscience had a lot to do with my decision. Perhaps my age and loss of youth played their parts. I had found out that pimping is for young men, the stupid kind.

I had spent more than half a lifetime in a worthless, dangerous profession.xlviii If I had stayed in schoolxlix, in eight years of study I could have been an M.D.l or lawyer. Now here I was, slick but not smart, in a cell. I was past forty with counterfeit glory in my past, and no marketable training, no future. I had been a bigger sucker than a square mark.li All he loses is scratch.lii I had joined a club that suckered me behind bars five times.

A good pimp has to use great pressure. It's always in the cards that one day that pressure will backfire. Then he will be the victim.liii I was weary of clutching quicksilver whores and the joints.

I was at the end of the ninth month of the bit. I got a front office interview. I was contesting my discharge date. I was still down for an eleven month bit.

An agent of the joint had been in the arresting group. I spent thirty days in county jail before the transfer to the joint to finish out the year. I knew little or nothing about law. I was told at the interview I had to do eleven months. I wasn't afraid I'd crack up serving the extra month. By this time I had perfect control of my skull.

Mama might die in California at any time. I had to get to her before she died. I had to convince her I loved her, that I appreciated her as a mother. That she and not whore-catching was more important to me. I had to get there as much for myself as for her.

I lay in that cell for two weeks. I wrote a paper based on what I believed were the legal grounds for my release at the expiration of ten months. It had subtle muscle in it too. I memorized the paper. I rehearsed it in the cell. Finally I felt I had the necessary dramatic inflection and fluid delivery. It was two days before the end of the tenth month. I was called in two weeks after I had requested the second interview.

I must have looked like a scarecrow as I stood before him. I was bearded, filthy, and ragged. He was immaculate seated behind his gleaming desk. He had a contemptuous look on his face.

I said, "Sir, I realize that the urgent press of your duties has perhaps contributed to your neglect of my urgent request for an interview. I have come here today to discuss the vital issue of my legal discharge date. Wild rumors are circulating to the effect that you are not a fair man, that you are a bigot, who hates Negroes. I discounted them immediately when I heard them. I am almost dogmatic in my belief that a man of your civic stature and intellect could ill afford or embrace base prejudice. In the spirit of fair play, I'm going to be brutally frank. If I am not released the day after tomorrow, a certain agent of mine here in the city is going to set in motion a process that will not only free me, but will possibly in addition throw a revealing spotlight on certain not too legal, not too pleasant activities carried on daily behind these walls.liv I have been caged here like an animal for almost ten months. Like an animal, my sensitivity of seeing and hearing has been enhanced. I only want what is legally mine. My contention is that if your Captain of guards, who is legally your agent, had arrested me and confined me on such an unlikely place as the moon for thirty days, technically and legally I would be in the custody of this institution. Sir, the point is unassailable. Frankly I don't doubt that my release will occur on legal schedule. Thank you, Sir, for the interview."

The contempt had drained out of his face. I convinced him I wasn't running a bluff. His eyes told me he couldn't risk it. After all, surely he knew how easy it was to get contraband in and out of the rotten joint. Getting a kite to an agent would be child's play. I didn't sleep that night. The next day I got a discharge notice. I would be released on legal schedule.

Continued >>

———Keks. I'm sure he did, and it's a wonder he noticed -- but then again powers of observation were never his weak suit. Doing much with them, yes ; but brute sensual input never was in short supply. [↩]Negligees and that sort of thing. [↩]Most pimps pimping this way are three to nine years old. [↩]Can you imagine they actually did come visit him ? I mean there you sit, you can't get the hussies you raised to come visit you once a year. How much did you spend on their ass in two decades, would it've been enough to finance a heavy dope habit ? It costs a lot, sure, but it doesn't cost that much ; yet disguise it as "Thanksgiving" or however you will, still they won't come. Yield what you might, kiss their ass whichever way you can devise or read about, still they ain't interested. You know they're whores just as much, what, "they're experimenting in college" gimme a break. They're just too dumb to get paid for it, is all ; but the whoring out they do by the book in any case. Yet yours, won't come. His, do come. What gives ?

Are you that much worse than this balding, fat seal in a suit ?

Yes, yes you are. It doesn't make him any good ; but it does make your utter misery, your unspeakable inner bankruptcy somewhat more shamefully visible. That's what "going to church", that's what "never say nigger", that's what your ideology and your culture bought you. Need I explain now why nobody with a clue has any need for either pile of nonsense ? [↩]The secret about whores is that a whore gets a bankroll only to have something to give away. There's no other reason there.

So yes, the foregoing's logical : this pimp in name only had only kicked in the first place to have what to give away. Casinos don't mind bad beats for the exact same reason : the chump's gonna step over himself to give it all back, with trims and extras brought from home. [↩]How about that! [↩]But... why ? Wherefore ? What the fuck happened ? Whence this obtuse, wilful blindness to anything substantial about poor Stacy, she can't have any sort of content relied no matter what happens. I wish to fucking know what they fell out about! [↩]No gas money, huh! [↩]Wait, she only came over on his third day there, because that's her day off, and such nonsense matters, actually scratch "matters", such nonsense actually rules their lives and their relationship ?! Why keep up pretending, by that point! [↩]What happened to "get the fuck lost", exactly ? What, they're gonna tear down the door and... what. [↩]Right ? [↩]Ahahahaha da fuck, seriously ? [↩]That's not thinking fast, that's trying to think fast, and failing. [↩]Inasmuch as this wasn't particularly surprising, wouldn't a much better use of four hundred dollars been renting transportation the fuck out of there ? How much would a Montana cabbie want, to drive to Seattle ? How much would a trucker want, besides some grass & some ass ? What the fuck is wrong with these indolent idiots! [↩]Takes a while, back then fingerprint matching was still done by eye-and-lens. [↩]Harboring nothing, the escape happened more than a year previous, she's not required to know or for that matter give a shit. [↩]Actually it's difficult to classify, let alone sort by some kind of criteria, this dude's shockingly poor hygiene. [↩]Bad story. He should've told them that he never escaped, that he served his sentence and was regularily released in due time ; that they probably fucked up their paperwork and are now trying to cover up for some clerical error on their part at the very real cost of his pimpin' good name, flashy&fronty froth an' ringin' etcetera. I mean... everyone's captive here, might as well have a good time & make a good yarn out of the scum of days, neh ? [↩]Yeah. Well... [↩]Papa Hoe didn't spent his days holed up in a room years at a time, banging girl. He probably pulled a plough while some ox was whipping his ass for that whole hundred. [↩]Do you suppose if she had been his first bottom bitch "the life" would have turned out different ? Right about the Pepper days she could've said "Baby, I see what you're up to. Mama's a good bitch, she gonna turn out for you, try cop a young whore or two too. Forget that phony freak Georgia with the convertible." Should she have so said ? By what logic "yes" ? By what reason "no" ? I mean... bitch wants now an' always really wanted to die in Jesus' arms (not even much of a religious notion, this "Jesus" of hers is really very personally incarnate, like the best lay she ever knew, for her only magically re-enacted, "in Jesus' arms" to her denotes something like "Jack's arms that one time, but on metaphysical steroids" and naught else). That's exactly what she gets to do, so what the hell's she beefin' about ? What's wrong with a frank and truthful, "Son, I never gave much of a shit about you, I always had my own interests that I followed for myself. So fuck you, I guess." It's what she did, why not say it too, what's the spurious pretense and assorted bullshit supposed to deliver ? What, it's his doing that everyone ultimately dies, that nothing ultimately works out, that her runt jesus's no better than his runt jesus ? He didn't make it this way anymore than she did ; the fact his rope's got a little more left than hers plays no part in this.

Ultimately the problem with the delusion of autonomy, autocephaly, whatever you call it is that it dun work in practice any better than the opposite. If you're gonna top you'd better fucking top, which includes not regretting other tops ain't your bottoms ; and if you're gonna sub you'd better fucking sub, which includes not regretting you don't get to ever top, not ever. Mix-and-match doesn't work, and calling the attempt "love" is no better con than any other -- thin, flimsy, and to the competent irritating. [↩]A short club designed to deliver a silent blow to the back of the head knocking the victim unconscious. Ancient tool of the thief, or anyone else confronting fixed positions and capable of sneaking from behind. Gave the name to a popular casino card game precisely because the A-J combination hits like a blackjack. [↩]That's probably because pimps are so very hip to the silk lifestyle. [↩]Ahahahaha! What's this nigga know! [↩]"I don't owe you shit, Jack. You owe me, room an' board, your guy in funny robes said so. Now cough up." [↩]He is, huh. Too bad the old timer doesn't know shit, but it's a blessing the new face's here to set him straight. [↩]Five to one odds. [↩]Stomach, as in "a hearty meal". [↩]A year. [↩]Pimps were never popular, somehow. Not in ancient Greece, nor in either Republic or Empire, not even in Venice, a state arguably built on whoredom. Never. Much like the jews do, the pimps themselves put it down to gentile jealousy. Do you suppose the jews are right, and the true reason Jim hates Slim is that Jim wanted to fuck his own god damned sister himself, fuck her up himself, her and Slim's sister too ? Or do you suppose the pimps are wrong, and the true reason everyone wanted to firebomb the jews always, forever an' at all points of this world's history throughout was rather that they are, by nature and structure, insufferable ?

It's really either one or the other, so pick your poison and justify it as best you can. [↩]Wouldn't it make sense to have standard instruction sets an' whore operating manuals such that emergency instructions needn't be nearly as bulky or frequent ? Wouldn't it make sense to have pre-arranged codes such that the pompously self-important censors work out exactly as well as they possibly ever could, which is not at all ? In fact, wouldn't it all work a lot better if them manuals said "if they ever kidnap me, burn the world down", for simplicity's sake ? [↩]Strong how. [↩]Heh. Not bad ; but why's this dude's brain only engage in new, troubled circumstances ? How come every time he's in a position to make a dent, he switches back to coasting mode, like god-damned pussy-headed white boys on the Internet exactly ? Once he's got nothing he's suddenly resourceful, when all that hard work can at most turn a cent into a nickel, not a dime. When he's got stacks and stacks that he could turn into a hammer perhaps large enough to flatten the world into a more palatable shape... then all he wants to do is shoot up and drive around in a circle. What the fuck!

It cost Sweet five grand to beat a murder wrap ; four grand weren't enough for Slim to beat a lousy pinch ; how the fuck much would it have cost to put the screws on the prettyboy "head of security" ? He's got a niece somewhere about ready to go to work, he's got a son in "college" or whatever the fuck, he's got something, somewhere. What the fuck is this moron thinking, to permit action flow unfollowed by disproportionate reaction ?

Ultimately, that'd be the problem with pimps : they're no gangsters. They're faggots. [↩]Did he spend most of the whores' money orders to buy stamps to orchestrate mail-in campaigns to, for instance, the FDA ? Because certainly the food in the joint wasn't up to snuff, and they certainly had to do something, such as... inspect it ? Every third week ? Why not! If he got a hundred dollars, he spends at least fiddy in poison, yes ? [↩]In his case this is a desirable outcome, skinny seal > fat seal. [↩]As predicted.

Chick's remarkably terse, for a thirteen years' bottom. [↩]Yes, it's called "the passage of time". What the fuck did he think it was all about, why the fuck did he think actual top dogs don't look so warmly on his squandery ways ? You get a bundle when you're nineteen and you don't know what to do with it, woe upon you, it'll be that much worse to handle twenty-nine. Tick-tock, aite ? [↩]A squared, married, pregnant whore's pity. Pimps may be "accustomed to fine living", but pride's not something conceded them. All front & facade, no substance underneath. [↩]This unforgetfulness thing is bijective after all, huh. [↩]Well, she was worth stealing back then, that's for sure. She was all the more also worth keeping, but that's a discussion for a previous footnote ; in any case check out Leroy, he lived! An ugly cricket comes out not so far behind a pretty pimp, towards last count. Ain't that something!

Do you suppose he ever got his settlement, by the way ?

Maybe I could work an angle to get her and a slice of that settlement. Of course, I couldn't wait forever. If I had to, I'd cop without a slice of the settlement.

Remember that ? [↩]To take her to a pullman porter, tired, sad an' well disappointed. [↩]If only. [↩]At any rate he could say "as I walk through the valey of the shadow of death, I fear no evil" over an' over an' over again! I mean, how screwy could that be, amirite ? [↩]Had a stroke. [↩]Suddenly they ain't croakers anymore, are they! Fancy that wonder. [↩]By now, what difference does it make anymore anyhow. Talk about fixing the busted hatch long after the last hen flew the coop. [↩]What he means to say is that he understood things he could've perhaps never understood if he weren't incarcerated. [↩]Chasing "skullbooks" never did yet pay off. [↩]Nevermind "staying in school" retarded cuck bullshit. No school he could've stayed in was ever worth an hour's dwelling.

How about if he didn't lie to those eager women giving themselves to him heart and soul every god damned fucking chance he got, instead ? How about not sending them to pointlessly headbutt walls, for their trust. How about not being so god-awfully fucking lazy and self-indulgent, how about pushing what works rather than doing the Romanian the very instant anything moved. [↩]The fewer Iceberg Slim MDs, the better. I don't want this guy to be involved with anything, seriously now, take that pipe-dream of "he turned his life around" and shove it. This asshat does not belong in human society ; the fact that he had the common fucking decency to stay the fuck out on his power is one of his few claims to mercy, and definitely the one thing about him that needs absolutely no fixing. Stop trying to con the world that ghetto pickaninnies are really politicians, that's how you end up with Obamas and a fucked country. [↩]Quite. [↩]Actually, trading money for time's not nearly the worst deal one can make. Consider you've never seen such a thing as a rich colony. The colonial metropolis-colony economic system is built up on the colony selling raw materials cheaply so the metropolis can sell finished goods at a hefty price. Consider a pimp's stock in trade is trust. He's not selling sex, he's not selling the girls' sex, he's selling outright their trust. How's he supposed to do well, selling out cheaply the raw materials of a happy life ?

Of course the square mark is coming out on top. A crippled louse on fire'd come out on top just as well. [↩]This is incidentally also an excellent argument against large scale deployment of field artillery. Somehow though... [↩]This is about as subtle as what one'd expect be called "subtle" in the circumstances, huh. [↩]

« I regret nothing.

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Last chapter & epilogue. »

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Thursday, 22 October, Year 12 d.Tr.

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 20 -- Stable moves.

It had been a sucker move to come to Mama. Fortunately she had moved from over the beauty shop. She now lived in an almost all-white neighborhood. Here I was with four idle whores in a closed town where I had fallen three times. It was the point of origin for the white slave rap that the copper-hearted runt had crossed me with. There were a couple of sneaki ten-dollar houses in town.

I stayed inside the house at Mama's. Every joker in town knew me. They all had diarrhea of the mouth. I couldn't put my action in the street in this hot town. They'd had an easy go in Ohio. They were soft.ii I could put them down only in a town where I had a fix. I knew that none of them, if busted, could stand up under the clever grilling of the F.B.I.

I had a ten G bankroll. I was housing and feeding four whores in an expensive hotel.iii I was a pig for banging speedballs.iv No fresh scratch was coming in.v With only a ten G stick I knew I would soon be in trouble. I had to make a move fast. It was bad for morale of the stable to keep them on their asses.

After a week of confinement at Mama's house, I slipped out of town to cop H and C for myself, and gangster for the girls. While in the city I looked up Sweet. I was careful because all the heat in the neighborhood knew me.

Sweet insisted I give him all the details of my escape. He shook his skull in awe when he heard them. Miss Peaches had died of old age. His eyes were sad when he told me about it. Glass Top was still out West in Seattle. Patch Eye did a little bookie business for him. Sweet had lost his glory. He looked a hundred years old. His backbone was the old white broad who owned the building.vi

Sweet had just beat a murder rap. He had killed some pretty jerk from St. Louis who had insulted him in the Roost. The poor chump had called Sweet an ugly, gray-ass bastard. Sweet had drawn his pistol on him. He prodded him into an alley. He made him kneel and then he pissed on him. This was too much to take, so the kid lost his temper. Sweet shot him through the top of the head.

Sweet was laughing, in a good mood as he told me about it. It had cost him five grand to beat it.vii He told me he got a wire that Red Eye got life for croaking a whore in Pittsburgh.

Sweet had a complete answer to my problem. He said that since Serena hadn't beefed I should go back into Ohio. No state was better at the time for house or street. Before I left I went to his johttp://trilema.com/cutekittens/the-snows-of-ten-years-ago-almost/#selecthn. The door had a padlock on the outside.

He looked at me, grinned, and said, "Pal, my crapper is out of order."viii

I went downstairs to the john in the bookie joint. On the way out I asked Patch Eye why Sweet didn't get his toilet fixed.

The old ex-pimp, without looking up answered, "Shit, ain't nothing wrong with the crapper. That cold bastard has his two whores locked in there for fucking with his scratch. They been in there three days."ix

I walked toward my car. I wondered how long Sweet would keep them there and how long the whores could live with just water.x

I got back from the city. I stopped downtown at Rachel's suite. I stayed for the night. I outlined the move. The next morning I was looking out the window down on the street. There was a stooped white-haired joker dumping barrels of hotel garbage into a huge truck. It was Steve. I'd know him in hell!

A hot-flash shot through me. I don't know what happened after that. Rachel told me I snatched my thirty-two from my coat pocket in the closet. I ran to the service elevator in my pajamas. She followed me all the way to the street. I didn't say a word. The truck had pulled away when we reached the sidewalk.

She got me back upstairs. It had been a sucker play for a fugitive. Lucky for me no rollers showed on the scene. I dressed and told Rachel I'd be back later and I wanted the rest of the stable in her joint.

I stopped at a leather-goods shop and bought a small valise. It was about the size that a doctor carries. I stopped at several banks and cracked some of my big bills into enough singles to fill the bag. I went to Mama's to prepare the flash. I filled it almost to the brim with singles. I put the remaining big bills on top. I was getting ready to ship my stable. With my plan I could ship them without a strong fix. Even new whores think twice before leaving a rich pimp.

That afternoon they were all in Rachel's plush suite. She was the boss bitch. They had twenty-five dollar a day, neat rooms on the same floor.xi I walked in. They were smoking gangster and eager for my speech.

They were anxious to get back on the track. I had loosened the catch on the bag. I casually hurled it onto the table before them. A bale of hundred-dollar bills jumped from the bag. Reefer enhances what you see. I saw on those whores' faces that they were seeing every dollar of the mountain of greenbacks they had given me for the years I had been their man.xii

Confidence flooded their eyes.xiii I finished my briefing and my instructions. I had built my shining castles in the air. Brother, I could have sent those whores to Siberia, in bikinis, in the wintertime.xiv Keeping her wife-in-lawsxv and my scratch straight up there in Toledo was the first acid test for Rachel as a bottom woman.xvi

I stayed around Mama's for a week. She was bugging me to embrace the Holy Ghost and the Fire. She begged me to square up and repent my sins. No, it was a little late for that. I moved onto Ohio again.

Cleveland was only a short hop to Toledo. I set up a mad apartment in the larger city. Cleveland was jumping. I was ready for the best pimping of my career. Kim ran off with a wealthy white trick but I didn't miss her. Both towns were crawling with young fine whores. The name of the game was still "cop and blow."

Within four months I had the three girls in Toledo and five in Cleveland. I was pimping good. I had a connection for stuff. All was perfect except for one thing. Rachel's name was ringing. Every pimp, con man and rich dope-peddler was shooting for her. They offered soft, irresistible propositions.xvii

Her head was getting as big as a pumpkin. I didn't want to lose her.xviii I had another more serious reason for wanting to hold her. If I blew her, she might pull a runt on me and go to the F.B.I.xix I got it through the wire that a slick con-man out of New York was using his beautiful jasper white girl as bait to cop Rachel. The same wire said that Rachel was getting weak for the broad.xx

I went to Toledo one early morning to Rachel's. Sure enough there they were, the three of them in Rachel's bed. Believe me they hadn't gotten in there to recite bedtime stories. I was cool, icy as always. I let her con me that it was a party, all business of course.xxi That wire had described that bastard con player and his freak woman.

I was in trouble. If it had been any other bitch in the stable except Rachel it wouldn't have been worth a fleeting thought. I couldn't lose Rachel, my bottom woman, in this shitty fashion to some ass-hole con player.xxii

It could kill my career as a pimp. The news would flash in a dozen states.xxiii No, I couldn't afford to lose her. I still had that expensive friend riding with me, that monkey on my back. Sweet would have had the solution to this tough problem right off the top of his head. Sweet, the week before, had shot himself in the temple. He left a bitter note, "Good-bye squares! Kiss my pimping ass!"xxiv

I felt nothing when I got the wire. I left her apartment and drove out into the country. I spun the wheels in my skull. I got the key to the riddle. It was cruel but perfect. If it worked I'd never have to worry that she'd blow or cross me with the F.B.I.

Rachel called me the next day. She told me she had just sent me three bills. She got them for the party I had crashed. When she cracked I knew I had to go through with the cross. The three bills she was sending had to be scratch she had been holding out. That con bastard was too pretty and slick to spend three fat-ones with a whore. I had to make an honest whore of her from now on.

I faked excitementxxv when I told her about a sucker who was visiting Akron. It's a small town, thirty miles from Cleveland. I told her I got a wire that the sucker had hit the numbers for twenty G's. He had it all with him in his hotel room.

I sold her that she could take it off smooth and easy. She said she would be down the next day to get briefed in detail.

I had already driven to Akron and set the stage for her. I had rented a hotel room in a fair hotel. I contacted a dignified looking old ex-slum hustler down on his luck. He spruced up a wino friend of his for the play.

The whole arrangement: clothes, room, and a bill apiece for the actors, came to a half-grand. The slum hustler was to wait in a pool room nearby for my call.

Rachel got to my apartment at three P.M. We got to Akron around six.xxvi I told her one of the bellhops had told the sucker she would be there before seven. He was waiting for her.

I slipped a small vial of mineral oil into her palm. I told her it was Chloral Hydrate. Only two drops would knock the sucker out. I told her I would be waiting in the hotel bar for her.

She stopped at the desk. Sure enough he was expecting her. She went up. She came down within an hour nervous and jumpy. The sucker was out cold. She had searched the room. She couldn't find the scratch. I went back to the room with her. I went through another search. The wino was lying there motionless. We gave up searching. We moved toward the door. I looked back at the wino.

I said, "Say baby, he looks bad to me."

I knelt beside him blocking her view with my back. I wiped my brow and turned my face toward her. My eyes were wide in alarm.

I said, "Baby, he's dead I think."

Most women, even whores, are terrified of dead bodies.xxvii She stood there paralyzed.

I said, "Don't get panicky. Shut that door. I've got it! I know an underworld croaker here in town. Maybe he can bring him to. I know he will keep his mouth shut for a price, even if..."

She knew we couldn't leave a murdered man here. She had stopped at the desk first before coming up. She was painfully aware of the big gap between theft and murder. I picked up the phone and got the pool room. I gave the fake doctor the hotel and room number. He came within five minutes carrying his empty bag.

She couldn't see into it. I had told her to hide in the closet. Too many people had seen her already. He stooped down beside the wino. He fumbled with his pulse, his eyelids.

Finally he stood up and said, "He's dead. I can't help him. I'll have to call the police."

I could almost hear Rachel's heart booming in the closet. We haggled for her benefit for ten minutes. Finally we had a deal. For five bills, he would keep his mouth shut. He would also contact a hoodlum who would get the body out of there and dispose of it. He left. Rachel and I got out of there fast.

Driving back to Cleveland, Rachel was in a trance. She squeezed tightly against me. I kept telling her she had nothing to worry about. After all we were together for life and her secret would always be safe with me. She found out about the hoax years later.xxviii

Rachel straightened up with that murder pressure on her. Toledo was on fire and in one month my three girls got nine cases between them. I pulled them out into Cleveland. Cleveland was lousy with pimps and whores and boosters from all over the country.

The mob of hustlers set the torch to Cleveland. By nineteen-fifty-three the streets were so hot a whore was lucky to stand up a week between falls. I was a fugitive. For almost a year I never left my apartment.xxix I couldn't risk arrest and a fingerprint check. I was down to four girls. That year in the apartment was cramping my style.

Mama had hit a romantic and financial jack-pot. She had moved to Los Angeles. She called me every week pleading with me to visit her. She wanted me to meet my new stepfather and stay for a while. I kept stalling her. I had heard that the smack in California was only six percent.xxx The pimps out there were only half serious. This makes for bad pimping conditions.

Several Eastern pimps had gone to the coast in good shape. They had returned torn down. They said the Western whores were lazy and were satisfied with making chump change. The Western pimps had spoiled them.xxxi

I gave myself logical arguments against the move to California. Why should I expose my well-trained whores to that dangerous half-ass scene out West?xxxii What if I blew my family out there in the hinterlands?xxxiii

I was thirty-four now. In any square profession I would have been in my prime. As a pimp I was getting elderly. I was stern and strict on my women.

Rachel wired me that a stud with a stable of boosters was in town with a load of wild Lilli Anne suits and Petrocelli vines at twenty percent off retail. She got me his number the next day.xxxiv

I called him and got an appointment to look his stock over. I only left the apartment for important reasons. I decided I would cop a piece of stuff and a fresh outfit before seeing him.

He was staying at a crummy hotel on the East Side. He let me into a cracker-box three-room apartment. He sounded me down to make sure of my pedigree.

"So, you're Iceberg, huh? I was in your town not long ago. Philly sure is hot."

He knew me by reputation and that I was from Chicago.

I said, "Yes, I'm Iceberg from the Windy."

He said, "Say Jim, how 'bout old Red Eye? I saw him in New York last month. He's pimping a zillion. Surely you know him."xxxv

I gave him that look, like I had caught him frenching a sissy.

I said, "Listen carefully, Jack. I don't have time for bull-shit. I knew Red Eye. You saw him last month, Jack? You better see a head-shrinker. You're flipping your top. Red Eye caught the big one in Pittsburgh five years ago. He's doing it all."

He gave me a grin like he had swallowed a bottle of snot. He got the sizes from me. He said to cool it in his pad. He had to go to his stash across the street to get the merchandise.

I glanced into the tiny bedroom. There was a naked broad lying on the bed.

I said to myself, "I wonder what kind of dog that is."

I went to the bed and looked down at her. She was drunk, stoned. It looked like the runt, but this broad was buxom, almost fat. I knew one way to be sure. I had lashed the blood out of her with that hanger whipping years ago. She would still have the scars. I flipped her over on her belly. There they were.

I stood there looking down at her. I remembered that tough bit in Leavenworth. Here at my mercy was that stinking bitch, Phyllis. Just the sight of her made me crazy.xxxvi

I grabbed a cologne bottle off the dresser. I jerked the big top off. I got my bag out. I dumped enough of the twenty percent stuffxxxvii into the top to croak a sick junkie. She was clean.

I spotted a bottle of mixer water on the floor. I filled the top and struck a match. I held it beneath the top. I rammed my gun into it. I drew up her reckoning.

I stabbed the outfit into a vein just back of her knees. Her red blood streaked up into the joint. I was just about to press the pacifier bulb. I looked out the window. I caught a glimpse of the joker darting across the street. He had a steamer trunkxxxviii headed toward the front door of the hotel.

I froze, jerked the spike out of her. I thrust the loaded outfit inside my shoe underneath my instep. I pinned the bag to my shorts between my legs. I collapsed into the living-room chair just as he came through the door. I was sweating like hell. He was suspicious. He kept looking from the corner of his eye at his broad.

He thought I had been riding her in his absence. I wondered how long he'd had her. She was a wrong-doer. He'd cut her loose when he got hip to what he had. Sooner or later someone would pull his coat. He'd find out the runt had sent me to the joint. I was getting what I wanted from the merchandise. He slipped into the bedroom and checked her cat out.

I leftxxxix with the dozen items I had bought. I knew I had bought going-to-California clothes. I had quizzed him about his plans. He was going to stay in Cleveland for weeks. I had to leave town. Now.

Phyllis was sure to get the wire from him that I was in town. I knew she wouldn't hesitate to drop a dime in the phone to the heat. She had to know about the escape.xl I drove away. I tried to picture the expression on her face when her man cracked to her that Iceberg had been up there alone with her while she was stoned.

I got a flight that night for L.A. It's fabulous when a pimp's bottom girl can be trusted to handle his scratch and his whores. She was welded to me by that murder cross.xli The stable would drive out later in the Hog.

Mama was radiantly happy out there and my stepfather was a wonderful square. They lived in a big house. L.A. was worse than the reports I had gotten. I got around in Mama's Coupe de Ville. After the second night I went into the whore and pimp stomping grounds.

I stayed around Mama for another week then went up to Seattle. Glass Top's name wasn't ringing. In fact he was almost unknown. One stud told me Glass Top had croaked.

I copped a gorgeous hash-slinger up there. I turned her out that week. Lucky I did. I lost a girl back in Cleveland. Her appendix burst.xlii I pulled the three left into Seattle.

After I had been in town six months, fate dealt me one off the top for a change. My bag was empty and the stuff in town was around six percent. I had to shoot three spoons to stay well.xliii The girls were humping up a storm, I was getting no inside grief.

I was sitting in the Hog one day. An old withered stud walked past me. He came back and stooped down looking at me.

He shouted, "Ice, my old pimping buddy."xliv

I took a close look. It was Glass Top. He got in. He patted the scraggly processed hair on his nearly-bald head. He'd done a long bit in the state joint. He wasn't pimping. An old square broad was feeding him. He was a drunk. Until I left town I bought him bottles and rapped with him. He croaked two days after I left town.

I ran into the croaker who aborted Helen. He had lost his license and done a short bit back East for an abortion. We started rapping a lot to each other. He knew most of the hustlers I knew so we had much in common. He kept telling me how bad I looked. He told me how handsome I'd been when I brought Helen to him.xlv

He needled me. He expressed doubt that I had the guts to kick. He was game to help me kick if I was game to kick. I decided to let him help me. He warned me I would have to follow his every instruction. He had a house in town. He still took a fast buck from his old hustle.

Rachel was the only girl in the family who knew I was hooked. None of the rest knew. I was going to stay at the Doc's to kick. They thought I was out of town.

He used the system of reduction. We reached the tearing, puking, none-at-all stage. Let me tell you that beautiful croaker bastard was immune and rock-hard. I tried the raving, crying con on him. He would jab a needle into me to tranquilize me so he couldn't hear my bleating. I tell you, if you have ever had the flu real bad, just multiply the misery, the aching torture by a thousand. That's what it's like to kick a habit.

It took two weeks. I was weak, but with an appetite like a horse. In another two weeks I was stronger than I'd been in years. The Doc will always be my man. If he hadn't come to my rescue, and I had kept that habit until nineteen-sixty, I would have been a corpse within a week in that steel casket waiting for me.

Continued >>

———Unfixed. [↩]As opposed to hard. [↩]So why not take them on an extended trip through Europe, then ? Spend thusly an amiable year or so, they've probably never seen it anyway... Don't worry so much about the packing, you can buy there whatever you need or want anyways, now as twenty years ago. Go for yet another tour of the world, it's been almost a decade, it's high time. Right ? At least once every decade, like wanna-be yous go to the big house (or even further), you go on world tours.

Oh, but he don't speak no languages, he don't hold no currencies. Maybe it's the Third World ; or maybe it's his first time around. [↩]This dope bullshit is for gangsters exactly what watching TV is for squares. Get da fuck offa da pig, all of youze louses, you're not fucking anything, you're just daydreamin' about it. [↩]Basically the whole "pimping skull game" is early consumerism-lite for (randomly chosen) sons of the ghetto. [↩]Funny how that works, huh. [↩]This guy uses five grand to beat a murder wrap, that guy can't get out of a lousy "white slavery" pinch for four grand... mayhap straight money isn't everything. Mayhap money goes furthest the crookedest it is. [↩]What, he has one single bathroom ?! For a multiple (as in... 4+ ?!) bedroom layout with trick-turning actively ongoing ?! I thought junior here got his first real headbang in a stall, wtf. [↩]Do you suppose they skimmed more than three days' yield ? [↩]Coupla weeks or thereabouts. [↩]I don't think it's healthy for family girls to never share beds. Long term sharing of a room is less than ideal, even if tolerable in case of need ; but alienation such that they don't ever familiarily touch... that's poison. [↩]From experience speaking a million dollars doesn't quite fit in a small valise like a doctor carries ; and five whores over ten years even discounting inflation and dropping the C/nite standard still come to well over a million. [↩]This is so fucking sad. [↩]Not as hard as it sounds, they're warm-blooded creatures after all.

On the whole, I still can't quite come to terms with this dude's utter, ingrained disbelief that women will do precisely and exactly what you tell them to. Why's this so difficult to accept ? He keeps treating it like some kind of untenable exception, it's the most naturally trite thing, what gives. [↩]Wait, what ? Is this an euphemism for the other girls ? Or is Rachel actually from Toledo and her fambly is trying to stage an intervention, or what is he on about. [↩]Wait, I thought by this point she had been the boss bitch for quite a while. [↩]How's this a problem, it's precisely an' exactly as it should be. [↩]The fucking bureaucratic infantilism of all this -- so they're special, you get it, these "pimps"/morons, they're better than the "squares". Some random kid, poor, stupid, unread, inexperienced is still better than some other equally poor, equally stupid, ignare, ignorant, clueless other kid, because this one's [self]labeled "pimp" and the other one no. What's this label consist of ? Oh, they totally wreck their amorous relationships, they "don't care about the bitches". Women, you know, they don't care about women, that's what makes them special, they're like the monks of yore except castrated otherwise, in some "novel" way, which is what matters, the form of their particular brand of castration. Not the substance of castration. They're still special because wilful infirmity. Excepting of course there's a special other label to be applied to women -- if it's not a simple "bitch" but a "bottom bitch" then it's okay to not want to lose her. God help you though if you don't want to lose just some lowly bitch, then you're not a pimp ; you gotta not want to lose bottom bitches which are top boss etc, that's what a real pimp does.

Is your head spinning yet ? Do you feel twelve years old yet ? Did you have enough of special pleading, circumlocutionary circular bullshit and all the rest of the Herpy McDerp's gonna ad-hoc a philosophy altogether, ethics, morals, metaphysics, divinity and theory of knowledge on a shoestring, without having of course read the state of the art because Chicagochuka writer, not reader... [↩]Yes, yes, you're excused for having liked a girl, what a grevious sin, horror of horrors. You didn't want to, she made you do it, you had no choice, the fbi exists to force mentally infantile faggoty boys into relationships they "didn't otherwise want", herp. [↩]And the wire was signed "Anonymous". [↩]Then she had to con the man that this ugly janitor who just popped into the bedroom uninvited is not malicious, dangerous, or of any consequence. Just a little slow, mentally. He thinks himself "a pimp", nobody knows why, but it does seem to pacify him... [↩]Awww. How the fuck does the raggity scarecrow nigger even get a speaking part in this set-up ? The rich "asshole" with the competent lezzy gets whatever the fuck it is he says he wants. [↩]Yesh, the dozen states have nothing better to do than keep track of some nobody's hallucinations of the self. If he spends a year in Europe the clincher nobody remembers him to the point he can go about sticking up players (or whatever bumbling approximation thereof), but those "young new jokers" carefully read the newsflash every morning, and methodically construct and reconstruct the world tree as excluding them but including him. Like if it were all a movie, where they don't even have a part, it's all about him. Here's what the Georgia really is, remember those idiots going "I live in Georgia and there's no Russian tanks ???"

Why precisely is it this dork thinks he owns Rachel, anyways ? Anything specific ? Anything personal ? It's entirely possible she doesn't even know about it, judging by how boyhood works. Maybe as far as Rachel's concerned she's one day met a kinda-funny old black dude that speaks kinda garbledly but otherwise does the dishes on his own initiative and usually shows up with pot, so she's not about to ask him to leave (it not being the kind of thing she feels comfortable doing anyways). [↩]Traditional manhood's a tough racket, eh. [↩]I thought any emotion whatsoever was out of character ; or were all those iceberg references rather in the vein of "you know me, Al". [↩]What do you suppose they did, three hours in the car. Did they talk ? What about ? Did they just sit and stare, saddled with their own thoughts, two lonely, aging people living the incommunicable fantasy of a fantastic life apathetically together though practically apart ? [↩]Which is why you force yours to get over it. You want the best there can be, whatever there is, and so instead of using their weakness "against" them (and therefore yourself), to "control" them by it (in the sense of keeping them, and with them yourself, small), you instead stomp it out and... whatever, let the bitchips fall where they may. Or... no ? [↩]Which is why thirteen rather than fourteen years, is it ? [↩]The corners the "inspired" dorks keep working themselves into. Seriously dude, private jail you pay rent to be in ? [↩]Cut four times, yielding 16:1. [↩]Free love is about to explode in Cali. [↩]Why would one hesitate to bring well trained pros to amateur night ?! I mean besides the money not being there, of course ; but that's not what he's saying. [↩]Contemporary proles like to think California was always a big deal ; but for most of the 20th century it counted for less than Ohio. Inconceivable, I know. Yet, true. [↩]Da fuck, 20% off is a thing now ?! You don't need a stable of boosters for that, just get your sweetheart to work at the mall. What the fuck highschooler bullshit is this. [↩]If this guy isn't a cop, he sure vibes just like one. [↩]Oddly, the fact that she's still wearing his marks isn't doing anything for him. Wouldn't you like a chat with the bitch ? "You got those because Sweet schooled me, little bitch dog. He's dead now, killed himself." maybe. Don't you think she'd like to know ? Or for that matter "Sorry for the jaw, bitch. I wish I knew a better way to hold you in line." maybe. No ? Nothing ? "Hey, wanna laugh together at them who take nothings seriously, wanna cry together at how seriously we took nothings ourselves ?"

She is his first, however "upset" or whatever the thought of it makes him. [↩]He's trying to prepare a hot dose for her, out of too much heroin, the metallic cap of a bottle of cologne and some water he's found in a bottle on a floor. [↩]Large wooden cases, intended to transport personal belongings atop steamers (steam-powered ships). [↩]Wtf was that Red Eye crack then ? Is this joker just talking crap he makes up on the spot or what the fuck. [↩]Yeah ? From whom ? From that joker she's shagged up with, who sees random people all the time in his rich imagination ? Maybe he also met the Lindberg baby turning tricks on the New Jersey Turnpike, maybe E. A. Poe was pimping up a storm back in Charlottesville. Maybe he had a beer with Jimmy Hoffa. [↩]See, it's not okay by the skullbook to think a woman loves you. It's okay however to think she believes you.

Pretty shitty book, it's way the fuck easier to love than it is to believe. It'd better be, too -- there's really not that much call for the latter article in the goings and comings of the world. [↩]The mother of all avoidable deaths. A girl, no doubt once young, I expect once pretty if not outright gorgeous, no doubt once a waitress, died. She died young, she died before reaching the end of the rainbow, before seeing what's there. She died before making it as a bottom bitch, before having to be straightened out, before getting to open the poke and see the cat inside, counting the bills in the valise... She died a different death from the rest of us, and she died without a name. Requiescat. [↩]Maybe it's time to kick this habit ? Dunno, jus' sayin'. Doesn't it eventually get old, all the self-ministration involved ?

If I were a junkie I suspect I could turn out the only junkie in the history of refined powders who quit horsing around because he was sick of the needlework involved, just got too lazy to bother one day and that was that. [↩]Apparently Glass Top also remembered Iceberg Slim, now and again, just as Iceberg Slim had in fact remembered Glass Top, now and again. He wondered, as he had wondered, "how is my old friend ?". A black man who once, in his youth, needed some mental health support for being dumped by some white chick, who spent some time thinking himself the best pimp "in the country" and dealing dope, who spent some time in prison and then some time "out West", one who had no hate, only love... A man he once knew, a friend of his from back in the day, from back when they were young, young still, the Spring still full of song and every tree yet ripe with joy. [↩]Phyllis the runt, then Christine, then No Thumbs Helen and now Rachel. That's four. That's all. Slim who had once been slim, and beautiful, and young. Slim who will die, peniless, diabethic, in a small dingy apartment, four decades hence, his wife and three daugthers around. Slim, who will for many years cling on to the car, that last bastion of an imagined self, holding on by a thread and a hair, desperate, distrustful, like a bankroll ever thinned, ever thinner, never replenished.

Slim, melting away. [↩]

« Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 19 -- The ice pick.

I regret nothing. »

Category: Adnotations

Wednesday, 21 October, Year 12 d.Tr.

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 19 -- The ice pick.

I was lucky. I caught five rides to get to my Aunt. It was five minutes to midnight when she opened the door. At first she didn't recognize me. She made me welcome.

In a week my leg had healed and I felt strong. Her husband was my size. He gave me an outfit and fifty dollars. I went to the whore section of town. A bunch of New Orleans pimps were in town. They had their thieving whores with them. Three days later I stole one.

Her name was No Thumbs Helen. She was at that time one of the slickest "from the person" thieves in the country. We got about in a forty-seven Hog. She was a magician. For almost a year she left a trail of empty wallets across five states.

We were in Iowa when Helen stung a rich sod-busteri for seventy-two hundred. I was in bed when she threw it on the bed. Excited? Sure I was.ii My heart boomed like bombs going off. She didn't know it. I was icy cool. I casually scooped it up and counted it. I had a poker face.

I said, "Now listen, bitch. Run this sting down. I gotta know how hot this scratch is. Did you get all the sucker had? I'll be a salty sonuvabitch to read in the papers that you missed a bundle."

Her rundown told me it was best to split. We got in the Hog and went to Minneapolis. The second day I copped a young whore. She wanted to be a thief.iii I took her to Helen at our hotel. Helen chillediv when she saw the pretty bitch.

She blew her top. She drew her knife. The young whore fled. I disarmed Helen and punched her around. Helen went to work. I fell asleep. I woke up fast.v Helen was jabbing her knife into me. I rolled away. She had stabbed me in the forearm and the side of an elbow. I took a golf clubvi and knocked her out.

I never tried to stable her after that. I didn't feel like a real pimp with one whore. I decided to steal the technique of stealing from Helen.vii I could use it to train other whores when I cut her loose. Finally I picked her skull. The technique went as follows.

She would lurk in some shadowy doorway or alley entrance. When a trick came by she'd go into a con act. She'd stand wide-legged and bend her knees to an almost squatting stance. She'd whip up the front bottom of her dress. She'd expose the gaping, hairy magnet to the bugging eyes of the sucker. The pull was magnified by her stroking her cat.

She'd say to the sucker, "Please pretty sweetie, I am so hot this pussy is burning up. I ain't had no dick in six months. Come here and do something to it."

He'd step into the doorway already blind hot to sock it in for free. His instinctive weariness blackjacked to sleep by the raw event. She'd bombard the sucker with a flow of sweetly passionate sexy bullshit as she tightly embraced him.

She had located his wallet, usually in a rear trouser pocket, with the sensitive tips of her fingers. She'd dry grind her belly against his scrotum. She'd complain that his belt buckle was hurting her. She would be panting in phony passion as she unbuckled it. It would release the tension on his pants pockets. She'd caress the head of his swipe with her fingers.

She'd stroke the tip of his ear with her tongue. The very tips of the airy light index finger and thumb of the free hand flicked the buttoned pocket open. The index and middle fingers scissored on the wallet and slid it from the pocket. The trick would be excited and hot. He wouldn't have felt the glowing end of a cigarette on his ass.

With both hands behind his neck, she'd remove the scratch from the hide. She'd up the sexy chatter and the strong grind against his scrotum. She'd roll the bills into a tight suppository shape. She'd slip the wallet back into the pocket. She wouldn't forget to rebutton the pocket. She was ready to blow the sucker off, get rid of him. She'd crack that she had to pee. Stooping quickly, she'd ram the rolled bills up her cat.viii She'd sight a passing car. She'd fake alarm.

She would say, "Oh my God. There's Riley, the vice cop. Listen honey, go to the Park Hotel up the street and register as Mr. and Mrs. Jones. I will be there in ten minutes, Pretty Daddy. I sure want some of your good dick."

The sucker would pat the reassuring bump of his wallet. It was still there in the buttoned pocket. He'd amble off to the hotel. The thief would make it home. She'd completelyix change her appearance. She'd go back into the street to sting another sucker.x

There was an accident. She got pregnant. I found a croaker who made her one again.xi The game went down as usual. The bubble burst in a small town in Ohio.

The sky-rocket came crashing down when I ran into an old pal. He was now called New York Joe. I hadn't seen him since I was fourteen. My mother had taken him in for a few weeks when his widowed-mother died. He got sick and had to go to a hospital. I'd take a bus to see him and bring him tid-bits. I'd sit with him and console him. I liked him. Our friendship was brief. He got out of the hospital and left town.

He was wholesaling cocaine and the sample he gave me was almost pure. I made an appointment to cop a piece. I didn't know he had learned in New York to cross everybody, even old friends. I found out the stuff he gave me was phony. I rushed back to him figuring he had made a mistake and would square things with me. I said, "Joe, you've made a mistake, man." He took me inside. He said, "What's the trouble, Jim?"

I said, "Man, this is bullshit. This ain't the same stuff that I sampled."

He said, "Well listen, Ronald went out to the stash. That mother-fucker is crossing me."

He drew his gun from a shoulder holster. At the time I didn't know it was all con.

He said, "Should I go out there and kill that sonuvabitch? What do you want me to do?"

He started working his eyes. His eyes were bugging and going through all that crazy act.

I said, "No man, just give me my scratch back."

He said, "I'm so mad I should croak you both."

I was relatively young. I had never run into this New York stuff before. I was spooked.

I said, "Forget about it."

He was going through contortions. I was in his town. I had a thief with at least seven beefs on her. I was out the three grand. I might have gotten croaked. Later I knew it was stuff: New York stuff. In later years, I figured it out. He maybe had always hated me because I had more education than he had.

A week later Helen got busted on seven counts. I signed the Hog over to a lip. She got five to ten. I should have wired a bomb to the starter before I turned it over to the lip.

A stud told me Joe had fingered Helen.xii He almost ruined me. He tapped me outxiii, got my thief busted. He literally ran me out of town broke, and with no whore.xiv

I heard whore-catching was good in Detroit. I took my last tendollar bill and caught a Greyhound. Detroit was the promised land for pimps all right. The town was teeming with young fast whores. The local pimps were soft competition.

I was walking, but I was sharp as a Harlem sissy. Anyway, these whores were a different breed than the ones back in the city. They were gullible, and a fellow didn't have to play his heart out to cop them.

The first package I copped was a beautiful seventeen-year-old green-eyed version of Pepper. Her name was Rachel. I was to keep her thirteen years.xv

My next package was a huge, black, dangerous jasperxvi named Serena. In addition to being a whore, she ran a fast sheet setup for a dozen whores.xvii They tricked out of her joint. Within eight weeks after I hit Detroit I was cruising the streets in a sparkling new forty-eight Fleetwood. I had a fat bankroll.xviii

Within ninety days after the Serena cop, I had copped two more young broads. A week later a small-time pimp came to town from Rhode Island. He had a beautiful young whore with him. He was jealous. He followed her in the street. I stalked her. He forgot to follow her. I stole her. I'd had her several months when the town got shaky. The rollers forced Serena out of her joint. I put her in the street.

Then I heard about a small town in Ohio -- Lima -- that was jumping with good tricks and wide open. I could possibly open up a couple of houses there.

My luck was soaring. With my pad rent and a pad a piece for the girls, I needed a tighter setup to cut down my nut.xix My skull was whirling as I drove the Hog to pick up my stable in the street. They got in. I tossed their scratch in the glove compartment.

Dawn was breaking as the big Hog scooted through the streets. My five whores were chattering like drunk magpies. I smelled that stink that only a street whore has after a long, busy night. The inside of my nose was raw. It happens when you're a pig for snorting cocaine.

My nose was on fire. The stink of those whores and the gangster they were smoking seemed like invisible knives scraping to the root of my brain. I was in an evil, dangerous mood despite that pile of scratch crammed into the glove compartment.

"Goddamnit, has one of you bitches shit on herself or something?" I bellowed. I flipped the wing window toward me.

For a long moment there was silence. Then Rachel, my bottom whore, cracked in a pleasing-ass kissing voice, "Daddy baby, that ain't no shit you smell. We been turning all night. Ain't no bathrooms in those tricks' cars we been flipping out of. Daddy, we sure been humping for you. What you smell is our nasty whore asses."

I grinned widely, inside of course. The best pimps keep a steel lid on their emotions. I was one of the iciest. The whores went into fits of giggles at Rachel's shaky witticism. A pimp is happy when his whores giggle. He knows they are still asleep.

I coasted the Hog into the curb outside the hotel where Kim, my newest, prettiest girl, was cribbing. Jesus! I would be glad to drop the last whore off. I could get to my own hotel to nurse my nose with cocaine and be alone. Any good pimp is his own best company. His inner-life is so rich with cunning and scheming to out-think his whores.xx

As Kim got out I said, "Goodnight baby, today is Saturday. I want everybody in the street at noon instead of seven tonight. I said noon, not five minutes after or two minutes after. At twelve sharp I want you down, got it baby?"

She didn't answer. She did a strange thing. She walked into the street around the Hog to the window on my side. She stood looking at me for a long moment, her beautiful face tense in the dim dawn.

Then in her crisp New Englandxxi accent she said, "Are you coming back to my pad this morning? You haven't spent a night with me in a month. So come back, okay?"

A good pimp doesn't get paid for screwing. He gets his pay-off for always having the right thing to say to a whore right on lightning tap. I knew my four whores were flapping their ears to get my reaction to this beautiful bitch. A pimp with an overly-fine bitch in his stable has to keep his game tight. Whores constantly probe for weakness in a pimp.

I fitted a scary mask on my face and said, in a low, deadly voice, "Bitch, are you insane? No bitch in this family calls any shots or muscles me to do anything. Now take your stinking yellow ass upstairs to a bath and some shut-eye. Get in the street at noon like I told you."

The bitch just stood there. Her eyes slitted in anger. I could sense she was game to play the string out right there in the street before my whores. If I had been ten-years dumber I would have leaped out of the Hog, broken her jaw, and put my foot in her ass. The joint was too fresh in my mind.xxii

I knew the bitch was trying to booby-trap me when she spat out her invitation. "Come on, kick my ass. What the hell do I need with a man I only see when he comes to get his money? I am sick of it all. I don't dig stables and never will. I know I'm the new bitch who has to prove herself. Well Goddamnit, I am sick of this shit. I'm cutting out."

She stopped for air and lit a cigarette. I was going to blast her ass off when she finished. I just sat there staring at her.

Then she went on, "I have turned more tricks in the three months I have been with you than in the whole two years with Paul.xxiii My pussy stays sore and swollen. Do I get my ass kicked before I split? If so, kick it now because I'm going back to Providence on the next thing smoking."

She was young, fast with trick appeal galore. She was a pimp's dream and she knew it. She had tested me with her beef. She was laying back for a sucker response.

I disappointed her with my cold overlay. I could see her wilt as I said in an icy voice, "Listen square-ass bitch, I have never had a whore I couldn't do without. I celebrate, bitch, when a whore leaves me. It gives some wormy bitch a chance to take her place and be a star. You scurvy bitch, if I shit in your face, you gotta love it and open your mouth wide."xxiv

The rollers cruised by in a squad car. I flashed a sucker smile on my face. I cooled it until they passed. Kim was rooted there wincing under the blizzard.

I went on ruthlessly, "Bitch, you are nothing but a funky zero. Before me you had one chili chump with no rep. Nobody except his mother ever heard of the bastard. Yes, bthan fishmongersitch, I'll be back this morning to put your phony ass on the train."

I rocketed away from the curb. In the rear-view mirror I saw Kim walk slowly into the hotel. Her shoulders were slumped. Until I dropped the last whore off you could have heard a mosquito crapping on the moon. I had tested out for them, solid ice.

I went back for Kim. She was packed and silent. On the way to the station, I riffled the pages in that pimp's book in my head. I searched for an angle to hold her without kissing her ass.

I couldn't find a line in it for an out like that. As it turned out the bitch was testing and bluffing right down the line.

We had pulled into the station parking lot when the bitch fell to pieces. Her eyes were misty when she yelped, "Daddy, are you really going to let me split? Daddy, I love you."

I started the prat action to cinch her when I said, "Bitch, I don't want a whore with rabbit in her. I want a bitch who wants me for life. You have got to go. After that bullshit earlier this morning, you are not that bitch."

That prat butchered her. She collapsed into my lap crying and begging to stay. I had a theory about splitting whores. They seldom split without a bankroll.

So I cracked on her, "Give me that scratch you held out and maybe I'll give you another chance."

Sure enough she reached into her bosom. She drew out close to five bills and handed it to me. No pimp with a brain in his head cuts loose a young beautiful whore with lots of mileage left in her. I let her come back.

At long last I was driving toward my hotel. I remembered what Sweet Jones, the master pimp who turned me out, had said about whores like Kim.

"Slim," he had said, "A pretty nigger bitch and a white whore are just alike. They both will get in a stable to wreck it and leave the pimp on his ass with no whore. You gotta make 'em hump hard and fast to stick 'em for long scratch quick. Slim, pimping ain't no game of love, so prat 'em and keep your swipe outta 'em. Any sucker who believes a whore loves him shouldn't a fell outta his mammy's ass."

My mind went back to Pepper. Then back even further and I remembered what he had said about the Georgia.

"Slim, a pimp is really a whore who has reversed the game on whores. So Slim, be as sweet as the scratch, no sweeter, and always stick a whore for a bundle before you sex her. A whore ain't nothing but a trick to a pimp. Don't let 'em Georgia you. Always get your money in front just like a whore."

I was on the elevator riding to my pad. I thought about the first bitch who had Georgiaed me when I was three. She had flim-flammed me out of my head. She would be old and gray now. If I could find her, I would sure get the bitch's unpaid account off my conscience.

I snorted a couple of caps of cocaine. Two hours later I took a yellow. I fell asleep.

When I woke up at noon, I knew I had to make a move. Rachel's parents were trying to cross me. Kim might split back to the sucker. My whole stable, except Kim, were local girls. A pimp is asking for trouble when he doesn't move his action away.

Control is easier and tighter away from the familiar setting. A girl in strange surroundings depends more on her man. She needs his advice and guidance more. Girls copped in smaller towns have to be moved fast.

That night I went to Ohio. I put down the foundation for the move. I rented two houses and furnished them beautifully. I made contact with a fellow who collected the oil for the heat.xxv I got the okay to go at a C a week for each house.xxvi I moved my whole family there. I was just in time. A month later Detroit foldedxxvii and the lid slammed down.

There was a good dope connection in the new town. I started capping H with my C. I'd mix them and shoot speedballs. When I went to bed I got sound sleep. I seldom had those bad dreams. I got hooked on H. It didn't worry me. I was getting long scratch.

I was thirty years old. For the second time in my pimping career I could see solid success and lots of long green in my future. How could I knowxxviii that elephant bitch, Serena, would get jealous? She brought the whole green-back house of cards crashing down around me. I missed a murder rap by a fraction of an inch. The fraction was in Serena's chest.

Within the year that I had set up my houses, tricks from all over the county were beating a path to them. They were wild to sample those luscious young freaks. Pimping had never been better.

I was in a wonderful mood as I walked in the sunshine. I noticed Serena was coming up the street with a sack of groceries in her arm. She had croaked two people in New Orleans. She walked toward me smiling. When she got close to me she got the ice pick out of the sack. She jabbed it toward my chest. At the time I was quite quick, so I leaped back. The point of it slashed the edge of my pocket right over my ticker. She was trying to drive the point right through my ticker.

I was without a pistol at the time. I could buy a pistol from any hardware store. I bought a .32 and a box of fifty bullets. I took it up to her pad and loaded it at the kitchen table.

She said, "Daddy, what's that for?"

I said, "That's to croak any bitch that tries to hurt me."

She said, "Oh Daddy, you know I was just upset. Forget about it."

I said, "No, I'm not going to forget about it. I'd kill my own mother if I thought she was going to hurt me."

Later that evening about midnight the other girls and I were returning from a cabaret.xxix I put the key in the door. I opened it and smelled the heavy odor of Tabu. The heavy scent that only Serena used. I hesitated. My eyes became accustomed to the gloom. I saw Serena standing over in the corner of the living room with an ice pick in her hand. She had slipped into Rachel's house through an open basement window. I drew my gun.

I said, "Serena!"

She said, "Yes, mother-fucker, I'm killing you and them whores this morning."

She started crying.

I said, "Serena, don't come by that end table. If you do I'm going to kill you. You know I always keep my word."

She said, "I wouldn't give a mother-fuck."

She lunged past the end table. I shot her. When I shot her the only thing that saved her life was the fact that she had a forty-six inch bust. The fatty tissue absorbed the bullet at almost point-blank range.xxx

When I shot her, blood splattered. I struck her in an artery. It blew all over my face, all over her. Her dress had a ringlet of sparks. I set her on fire.xxxi She had elephant toughness. It didn't even knock her down. The bitch grabbed at me. She had dropped the ice pick.

She grabbed her chest and said, "Daddy, don't kill me!"

I was tempted. I really intended to kill her. I started to shoot her through the head. I didn't. I don't really know why except there were witnessess, those four whores. She staggered past us through the door and down the street. We all got into the Fleetwood and raced out of town leaving everything.

I sped toward Mama. I hadn't seen her since that Christmas visit. Her hair was snow white. Jesus! Was she excited and happy to see me. I told her what had happened. She got a friend to drive her back there. She loaded all the clothing on a trailer. She visited Serena in the hospital.xxxii

Serena begged my mother to tell me to come back. She wouldn't file charges. It was all her fault and she loved me. I knew that if I had gone back Serena would have driven a butcher knife through my heart in my sleep.xxxiii

Continued >>

———Farmer. [↩]More than his whole 7-years bankroll. [↩]Notice incidentally how careful he's of the girls' wishes an' desires, eh. [↩]The opposite then of what it means now. [↩]Suddenly, stressfuly, by stimulus. [↩]Were they also playing golf on the side ? Or is this a case of the Moscow baseball bat. [↩]Techniqueing the steal of technique didn't have quite the same ring to it. [↩]What percentage of currently circulating bills do you think have been inside a vagina ? What percent of those actually in contact with the vaginal lining ? [↩]How complete would be this "complete", not like she's getting entasis. But I suppose the man who knew of sibilants and abutements didn't know how do say "drastically" and went with "completely" instead. Such is the fate of thesaurus raiders, they end up with an overstretched outside unsupported by the next rank further inside. [↩]So basically a one-woman Murphy orchestra. [↩]Ahahaha, "made her one again", not bad, not bad. [↩]Kinda puts the quaintness of the midwest in a stark perspective, doesn't it. Chicago wasn't just getting supplied from New York. [↩]What sort of idiot buys high risk merchandise from an unknown contact with all his cash -- I don't mean his spare cash, I don't even mean his savings, pension fund, whatever. He went and emptied the working capital account, have you ever heard of idiocy on this level ? What if Helen got busted, what was the plan, he'd go downtown and raise her in dust ? Pass a coupla baggies to the court clerk ? [↩]Supernova failure mode of the main underworld series : a town rich enough and large enough will end up with such an underworld layer, so large and poorly connected it'll end up imploding upon itself, everyone's incentive being so sharp to drive everyone else out of business nobody can actually get any business done. People generally credit whatever square figure with "having cleanned up the city", but the fact of the matter was everyone in got so fucking sick and tired of the bullshit they mostly turned square of their own accord. Yes this can happen, and naturally, the two aggregation states are in hydrostatic equilibrium, what the fuck did you think. "We only bump off our own" because, literally, nobody has the time to aim, let alone actually shoot, anyone else ; and "all the old beefs and the old feuds, fifty gangsters chasing the same nickel"... What had you imagined ?

That's a fast track, not whatever quaint farmville bullshit around "the Roost". [↩]Can you believe after all that he still had the patience for over a decade of the inane bullshit ? And yet... [↩]Lezzie, though I'm sure you figured it out by now. [↩]An improvised brothel. The point is she's getting about a third of their income, meaning Serena pulled in more cash than any whore actually working the street. Maybe not four times more, but not that far off. [↩]By now we well know it ain't gonna do anything. Anything. [↩]He's running into that whole thing. In fairness a pimp with separate pads for each whore looks more like a terrorist organisation than anything. [↩]And "meditation" on winning the megamillions generally.

Maybe he could tell them he's printing money again ? [↩]This'd be the Rhode Island package he stalked an' then stole then. [↩]"The joint", huh. Not "that's how I blew the runt", nor anything like it. [↩]Paulie the jealous shrimp pimp from Rhode Island ? Sounds about right. [↩]Ever tried this, by the way ? [↩]It's not clear where in Ohio, seeing how that's a state not a town ; but in any case whatever town it was, the fix was in. The fellow is the fixer's agent, and he collects the payoffs to bribe the police. [↩]Basically he pays a little more in tax for being in a particular guild. Like weavers might pay an extra shilling in poor tax to work in Liverpool, so pimps pay a C more a week to operate in Penury, Ohio or whatever the fuck it was. [↩]The fix collapsed. [↩]Uh... really ? Experience, personal, lived experience, if nothing else ? [↩]Pity he never describes the acts. [↩]Well what the fuck, 32s, what are they even for. [↩]I can't tell what the fuck this and the foregoing sentence are supposed to mean. [↩]Fancy that woman, with a trailer fulla whore outfits, her friend driving her back to Indiana. What do you say in that social context, what are the conversational commonplaces to be employed ?

"Your son seems to favour pinks and topless outfits for his whores."

"Yeah, I guess he always was an orally fixated little motherfucker."

"Do you mean that orally ? I mean, literally."

"What ?"

"The motherfucker."

"Oh, no, that's figurative."

"I figured."

"I thoght the hospital was real nice. Nothing there but old people and poked whores." [↩]Eventually. Though honestly, the ice pick seems an adequate weapon of choice for carving icebergs. [↩]

« Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 18 -- Jailbreak.

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 20 -- Stable moves. »

Category: Adnotations

Wednesday, 21 October, Year 12 d.Tr.

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 18 -- Jailbreak.

An agent for a fixer came to the lockup. He assured usi we could avoid five to ten for armed robbery. We could get the charge reduced to a workhouse bit for a price.

We tapped out and got a year apiece in the workhouse. It was like a prison, only tougher. A joint is always rough when there's graft and corruption.ii Only cons with scratch are treated and fed like human beings. The walls were just as high. Most of the inmates were serving short thirty and ninety-day bits.

The joint was filthy. The food was unbelievable. The officials had an unfunny habit of putting pimps on the coal pile. I did a week on it. I was ready to make a blind rush at the wall. Maybe I could claw up the thirty feet before I got shot. I was really desperate.

After the first week I came out of shock. I started thinking about a sensible way to escape. I just couldn't get my skull in shape for another bit. It was too soon after the last one. By the middle of the second week I'd had a dozen ideas. None of them stood up under second thoughts.

I shared a tiny cell with a young con. He was only eighteen. He idolized me. He'd heard about me in the streets. I slept on the top of a double bunk. There were three counts. One in the morning, one after night lockup, the third at midnight.

One night I missed standing up for count at the cell door. I was so beat from heaving coal I'd collapsed on my bunk. I woke up an hour after the count. It gave me an idea. I kicked it around in my skull. Like all good ideas it kept growing, crying out for my attention.

I thought, "I wonder how much and what of me that screw saw when he counted me?" I tested him three nights in a row. I'd lie on the bunk when he came through to count. Each time I'd lie so he saw less of me. The last time he counted me there was only my back, rear end, and legs visible to him.

I got excited. I knew it would be easy to get extra pants and a shirt. I could stuff them into a passable dummy. I knew my first problem was to find a way to get out of line when filing from the coal pile.

My second problem was I couldn't leave a dummy in position in the cell during the day. Cellhouse cons and screws would pass on the gallery and discover it. I decided to solve my outside problem first.

At the end of the day a screw would line us up at the coal pile to be counted. We would then file two-hundred yards into the mess hall for supper. After supper we would file through hallways to the cell house for count.

There were several cellhouses. All of the cellhouses phoned in their tallies to the office. If all the tallies equaled that number of cons in the entire joint then the count was right. A loud whistle blew and the day screws could go home.

There was no cover between the coal pile and the mess hall. A screw with a scoped, high-powered rifle manned a wall that ran parallel to our line of march. It looked impossible. I lost hope. On my twenty-eighth day in the joint I noticed something.

I had been on an official pass-out of some kind. It was very near supper time. I passed the dress-in station and shower room. The front door was open. I glanced in. In the rear of it a screw was hooklocking a wooden door.

I stopped and pretended to tie my shoe. He then walked up two or three stairs and swung a steel door shut inside the shower room. He started lining up his cons for the march to the dining room.

I had noticed the shed before on the marches to the dining room. It was maybe thirty feet from the line of march. The door had always been shut. I had thought it stayed locked all the time. I couldn't have checked it with that rifleman on the wall and a screw marching with me.

In the cell that night I was as excited as a crumb crusher at Christmas time.

I thought, "Maybe that shower screw sometimes forgets to lock that shed door. Maybe he's even later locking it than today. I couldn't see what the hell was in the shed. I know there's gotta be old clothing or something. I can hide under when he comes to hook that slammer. I gotta get outta this joint. I can't pull my bit here.

"If the kid will handle the dummy end, I'll take a chance. I'm gonna talk to my cellmate about that dummy. If he'll help me, I can escape like a shadow."

I looked down over the rim of my bunk at him. I had written several bullshit letters for him to his girlfriend. So far they had kept her writing and sending him candy and cigarette money. He was a good kid. I didn't think he'd rat.

I said, "Shorty, what if I told you I could beat this joint?"

He said, "Iceberg, you're jiving. You can't make it out of here. There are five steel gates between this cell and the streets. How're you planning to do it?"

I said, "Kid, as beautiful as it is I can't do it without your help. Now here it is."

I ran it down to him. At first he was leery. I told him to take the dummy from the floor under his bunk. Put it on mine. As soon as the whistle blew, unstuff the shirt and pants. Put the blanket stuffing back on my bunk. Sometime during the night before the midnight count, throw the pants and shirt over the gallery to the flagstone.

When the midnight hell broke looseiii he'd be clean. No one could prove or even suspect he had dismantled the dummy. I asked him to give me the name of a relative for record. I told him I would send him a C note from the first whore scratch I got.iv

I got his promise to handle the cell end of the plan. An hour later I gave a cellhouse orderly two packs of butts for an extra blanket. I had the stuffing. I took off my shirt and pants and stuffed them for rehearsal. He sat at the cell door with a mirror watching the gallery both ways. In twenty minutes he had the position and the rest of it down pat.

I didn't close my eyes all night. At midnight I saw the screw counting heads. He was due for a shock soon. I knew that if something went wrong they'd probably beat me to death out there on the yard.v I had to go through with it. No con misses his freedom more than a pimp. His senses are addicted to silky living.vi

I took packs of butts to the coal pile the next day. A yard runner got me a shirt and pants. I put them on over the ones I wore. That night in the cell I made up the dummy. I put it under the kid's bunk and gave him a pep talk until midnight. I even promised him I'd keep in touch and when he got out I'd teach him to pimp.

I thought the last day on the coal pile would never end. I would be sunk if there was a routine cellhouse shakedown. Finally we lined up. My throat was dry and my knees were wobbly. We were approaching that shed. The screw on the wall walked twenty paces away. Then about faced and walked back facing the coal pile gang.

I'd have to break for the shed when he walked away. I'd have to be in there when he turned if it wasn't locked. If he didn't shoot me, the yard screws would beat me to a pulp. The coal-pile screw was ahead of me. He could turn and look back at any moment. No other moment in my life has been so tense, so wildly adventuresome.vii I didn't even know if there wasn't a finkviii in the line. I tell you it was something. If my ticker had been faulty I'd have passed out.

The screw on the wall was walking away. The shed seemed miles away. I slipped out of line and raced for it. I could hear an excited whispering from the cons behind me.ix I touched the shed doorhandle. For an instant I hesitated. I was afraid I'd find it locked. My sweat-hot hands pulled it toward me. It was open!

Just before I stepped inside I looked up at the wall. The screw was standing looking in the direction of the shed. I shut the door. Had he seen me? I looked around the shed. There was nothing to hide under or behind. I could hear the cons in the shower room. They were getting ready for supper.

The steel door was half open. That screw would be out at any second to hook the shed door. There was no place to hide. It had been all for nothing. I heard a voice and the scrape of feet at the steel door. The screw was coming out into the shed! I looked up at the shed ceiling. I looked over the steel door.

There was a line of rusty bars a foot long over the door flush against a grimy window. I leaped up and grabbed two of them. I swung my feet and legs up just as the screw walked in to lock the door. I was jack-knifing my legs just six inches from the top of his blue uniform cap. I hung there like a bat.x I held my breath. He passed beneath me. I saw flakes of rust fall from the bars onto the top of his cap. It seemed forever to my agonized aching arms and legs.

I heard the steel door crash shut. I started breathing again. I hung up there for another long moment. He might come back for some reason. I swung my paralyzed legs down and released my grip on the bars. I sat on the stone steps fighting for breath. The shed was quiet as a tomb. I could hear my ticker staccato.

The worse wasn't over. That "all is well" whistle had to blow. If it didn't blow they'd come looking for me with fists, clubs, and guns. I peeped through a crack in the door. I put my ear to it. The yard was bare. I could hear the clatter of steel plates in the mess hall. Finally all was quiet. The count was going on.

I thought, "Even if the kid goes through with his end, this one night the count screw will poke that dummy to stand up to the cell door. That whistle ain't gonna blow. It's been too long already. Those cold-hearted bastards are on the way already. They'll beat and stomp me crippled."

The whistle blew! The beautiful sound of itxi was like a faucet. It flooded my eyes with tears. I did a dusty jig on the shed floor. It was dusk. It wasn't over. The only way to get over the wall was to scale and climb to the top of a cellhouse in the far corner of the yard.

Lucky for me the cellhouse sat in a deep recess, otherwise its roof would have towered above the wall. It was the only building close to a section of wall. Other buildings stairs stepped almost to the roof of the cellhouse. Maybe I'd been too eager to escape. I'd not put together a rope or hook. I'd have to use hands and feet. It sat six feet away and twenty feet above the wall.

There was only one screw on the wall after the count cleared. He'd be in his cubicle reading the newspaper or a magazine. If he looked up he couldn't miss seeing me in the glare of the yard lights.

My uniform was dark green, stained black with coal dust. Maybe on the street I'd look like any sooty steel mill or coal worker. I hadn't done too badly so far with short-term planning.xii

I had until midnight to get over the wall and out of the city. I had no scratch. I'd passed out a small fortune in tips to hotel maidsxiii, bellhops, and bartenders. Now all of them were rich compared to me. I knew several I could go to and get a few dollars. They could be found at their places of work.

There had been all the show-ups the month before and after my conviction. My face would be remembered by the rollers in those neighborhoods.xiv I thought about Sweet. I remembered his crack at the hideout to set me up for the cop of my stable.xv I threw him out of my skull.

I couldn't trust any of the pimps I knew. I'd always been a threat to them. Iceberg was really on his own. I'd have to make it to one of Mama's sisters, thirty miles away in Indiana.xvi

It was now pitch black inside the shed. I raised the hook and pushed the door open. I looked out into the yard. I stepped through the door into the yard. All was quiet. I pushed the door shut. I heard a dull metallic noise. I pulled it toward me. The hook had fallen into its loop. The shed door had hooked from the inside.

I thought, "That freak accident would confound the investigators for sure."xvii

I raced to the side of the mess hall. I'd have to get on its flat roof. I took hold of some window bars and pulled up to a standing position on the sill, I reached over and grabbed the drain pipe. I swung over and shinnied up to the roof.

I looked to my left. I could see the silhouetted figure of the wall screw in his cubicle. I looked across and up at the cellhouse roof abuttingxviii the wall. It was a long way. I walked across the roof toward the next building. I was near the far edge of the roof. I looked back at the wall cubicle. The screw was out walking the wall. He had that deadly rifle cradled in his arms.

I flung myself flat on my back on the black roof. I hoped I was invisible to him. I lay there panting. I wondered what a screw's manual said about an escaping con target. If he saw me would he scope for a skull, heart, or gut shot?xix

Finally he went back into the cubicle. Lucky for me the mess-hall roof was connected to the chapel building. The connection was a concrete ledge. It was less than a foot wide and about twelve feet long. My heavy prison brogans seemed as wide as the ledge. They slipped on the glazed ledge. The wild late April winds made the walk as secure as a stroll across a teeter-totter two stories above the ground.

I stood at the end of the ledge and looked up. I stretched my right arm up and stood on tip-toes. The chapel roof was two feet above my fingertips. I'd have to go back a few feet on that glassy ledge. I'd have to get up enough speed coming back to make a twofeet leap. I'd have to grab the outside rim of the roof's drain gutter. I wondered if it could stand my weight.

I carefully backed up six feet. I stood there trembling looking up at the rim. I looked back. The screw wasn't on the wall. I had to forget how narrow the ledge was. I threw a leg out. I whipped the other toward it. I pumped them over the gritty glaze. I heard the whispering hiss of the leather soles tromping the ledge. My arms were outstretched to the black sky. My eyes were riveted upward to the gutter rim.

I leaped upward. I felt my feet soar off the ledge. I taloned the rim. I hung from it dangling in space. My fingernails sent red-hot needles of pain through the tortured flesh at their roots. I chinned up and hurled a leg across the roof top. I rolled onto it. I lay there gasping as I watched the rifleman walk his beat. He went in.

I struggled up the steep sloping roof to the top. The edge of the cellhouse roof was three feet away. I leaped straight ahead. I flopped on my belly. The tips of my brogans were in the drain gutter. The cellhouse roof was even steeper. It was coated with squares of slippery shale. I looked up toward the top. It seemed a city block away. I started bellying up it. I dug my brogan tips into the small cracks between the shale squares.

I finally inched to the top. My chest was flaming. I lay astraddle the six-inch top of a double precipice. The two sides of the roof formed a steep pyramid. I was on top of it. The six-inch top seemed as thin as a wire. Through a dizzy haze I saw the lights of the city winking in an ocean of blackness.

I got to my feet. I started walking the tight wire like a circus performer. The winds were savage up here. They kicked and punched me. I teetered and swayed on the wire. I looked down over the right precipice to the street far below. Through a fuzzy blur I saw auto headlights darting through the night like tiny fireflies. My skull almost blacked out. I jerked my skull away and glued my eyes to the wire.

It was like an age before I reached the end of the cellhouse. If the screw came out now I'd be in full view. Even from the inside he could spot me. I stood shivering. I looked down twenty feet to the top of the three-foot wide wall. I couldn't turn back. I couldn't just stand there. It was a cinch I couldn't expect to keep balance if I hit the wall feet first.

I dropped, legs opened wide. I heard my trousers rip. The inside concrete edge of the wall top gouged into my inner thigh.xx My rear end crashed against the concrete. My skull reeled in pain as I sat in the cold saddle. I swung my gouged left leg from the inner side of the wall. I scooted back on my belly to my fingertips.

I hung there for a moment. I felt blood running down my left leg into my shoe. I let go.xxi I struck feet first. My butt and back took the rest of the shock. I lay there on my back in a drunken fog of exhaustion, pain and breathless joy.

It was at least ten minutes before I could stand. I limped away for a hundred yards. I turned and looked back at the joint.

I thought, "Those dirty white folks are gonna pace the floor. Their assholes are gonna twitch. They're gonna call me a million black-nigger bastards and sonuvabitches. One thing they can't deny in their cruel secret hearts. I outsmarted them.xxii It's gonna hurt 'em to the rotten quick that a nigger did a black Houdini outta here. No screws' skulls busted and no bars sawed.

"They're gonna foul their chances to catch me after the midnight count.xxiii They'll search the yard and joint for a week. Their asses will turn blue. Their skulls won't let 'em believe a nigger was clever enough to ghost outta here."

I turned and hobbled toward the State of Indiana.

Continued >>

———Isn't this as suspicious as all get-out, coming as it is a week after attacking the agent wife of a guy known for easy shooting who "maybe" had organized connections ? Hm ? [↩]Making graft and corruption an excellent idea in general. Figure it out, these two jokers paid to be in the workhouse. Yes ? Only idiots and organized imbeciles mind corruption. [↩]Wouldn't it be smarter to do it after midnight, before morning ? [↩]Doesn't the candy girlfriend solve both ends of this ? Fingertrapped by loose ends, as it were, what a beautiful image. [↩]It's okay, if he needs to he can just run off another bale in a castle in Switzerwaii. You can take this queer scratch anywhere, even a bank, there's no difference. It's a genius idea, he could just string them on forever.

O wait, sorry, reading book from the wrong skullbone over here. Carry on. [↩]It was the light blue chiffon dress and the spray of blood, wasn't it. [↩]Corruption ftw. [↩]Jailhouse spy. [↩]If said guards didn't notice this they were terribly inept rookies. A schoolteacher manages this much. [↩]"Then I farted. Loud." [↩]Truly there's nothing greater than perversion, the simple, ignorant naturalcy of a world carrying on as if nothing had changed when in fact everything has. Subversion comes close, but perversion takes the crown. [↩]Easier to remember and more difficult for circumstances to upset, in any case. [↩]Isn't it a wonder he systematically (and apparently, his social group structurally) hits on waitresses, but absolutely never hotel maids ? In my experience the ex whores and whores to be are nurses, policewomen, hotel maids and beauticians in that order ; while waitresses are ditzy "college" graduates, "artists" and other such femscum of zero value, sexual or otherwise. Mayhap the world has changed. [↩]Maybe, though even if they remembered the face they wouldn't necessarily know they're not supposed to be seeing it. [↩]What stable ?

Oh, the stable that he lost anyway and within a week, is that the stable we're talking about ? Okay, what of it ? [↩]Heh. That's quite some "being on his own", isn't it.

The logic of what he's saying, if you're curious, is that he's drawing a distinction between the productivity of "his" things, meaning, things he's built himself, after leaving the nest, and the productivity of... "his" things still, meaning, things he's inherited as a sort of fracturedly perceived birthright. His momma's sisters are "his" in this 2nd sense, but not "his" in the Bobby-da-pimp sense.

He's shedding identity, in other words, he's well on his way to squaring up. He didn't think so much of the joint pimps (also known as psychiatrists) in Leavensworth, not on the spot. Back then he thought [he had to think] himself independently-cool and chic and all ; but upon contact with the other shithouse, utterly disinterested in such niceties, they suddenly won in his mind the battle over his heart, and now his nose's wide open for 'em -- this being exactly how any square broad ever turned out -- no broad was ever born a square, like no boy was ever born a pimp.

That sweet moment when a pimp first turns whore, always a delightful split second. [↩]Absolutely, they'll never believe he was in there even if they catch him and he tells them as much. [↩]Abutting, eh. [↩]Leg, actually. [↩]This wasn't such brilliant an approach, there's a major artery in there. What exactly was the problem with landing feet first like normal people ? Having to bend the knees ? [↩]One alternative approach is to attempt to run down the wall, using the shoe adherence to provide a little bit of arrestive force, then turn and "jump" against the gravity vector. In fairness though, parkour hadn't yet been invented, and when it was finally invented it was invented by remarkably light juveniles. [↩]Fair enough. [↩]Really shoulda waited till morn, force them dirty white folks upon the unpleasant dilemma of whether to give the whole jailhouse a lockdown day off, or else deal with a yardful of prisoners on top of trying to figure out the fuck happened. [↩]

« Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 17 -- Trying a new game.

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 19 -- The ice pick. »

Category: Adnotations

Wednesday, 21 October, Year 12 d.Tr.

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 17 -- Trying a new game.

I had three choices. I could cop a piece of stuff on consignment from a contact I had made in the joint. I could peddle it retail and get nine or ten grand in weeks. I could take a dog, a broken-down whore with trillions of mileage on her. Maybe I could keep my foot in her ass and grind up a bankroll.i

I decided to take the third out. Do a slick fast hustle. I met a pimp named Red Eye in a junkie joint. He had just finished a state bit the week before. He was whorelessii like me and itching to pimp again. We were crying on each other's shoulder at the bar.

He said, "Ice, ain't it a bitch? No matter how much pimp a stud is, these dizzy bitchesiii demand he's got a front.iv Now we ain't hustlers, but I got an idea. Ice, you're a helluva actor and you can rap good as a con man. I know a stud who's hip to every smack peddler and fence on the West Side. I got a rod and a real copper's shield. All we need is a shortv and a third stud to drive.vi Neither one of us is well known over there.vii Besides, there's a flock of youngsters dealing now who were squares when we left the track.viii I'm a roller type stud. With the weight you put on in the jointix you'd make a perfect copper. Ice, if we only knock over three of 'em, we split maybe ten to fifteen G's between us. Our finger man is a junkie punk. We give him and the driver peanuts. Ice, those forty-seven Hogs are a pimp's dream. I gotta have one. Whatta you say? Are you in?"

I said, "Red Eye, I'll go for it. I sure as hell ain't going to put a mop in my hand out here.x I don't have wheelsxi, but I've got a little scratch. I'll spring to rent a short. You know someone with one? How about a driver?"

He said, "Ice, lay a double saw on me to cop a short. I know a stud for the driver.xii Meet me right here in this joint tomorrow night at nine. We can take off our first mark."

I said, "Don't crack my name to that driver. Call me Tom, Frank, anything."xiii

I didn't get two-hours sleep that night. It worried me to be part of a hustle that required a rod.xiv

I thought, "Maybe I'd better back out. I could maybe find a young hash-slingerxv in a greasy spoon. I could turn her out in a hurry. She'd be a long shot for stardom. At least she'd make enough scratch for chump expenses. You can't start pimping with a turnout.xvi It never works out. A pimp with no whore and no bankroll is a sucker to try the turnout on a mulishxvii square broad.xviii No, I guess the Red Eye deal is all I got."xix

Red Eye got to the joint at ten-thirty. The driver was a huge stud with a rapper like a girl's. I noticed his big meat-hooks shaking on the steering wheel on our way to the West Side. Red Eye ran down our first mark. His light-maroon eyes were whirling. He had a skull full of H.

He said, "Paul, our first mark is a bird's nestxx on the ground.xxi It's a broad. The finger showed her to me last night. She and her old man got the best smack on the West Side. It's so good studs from all over town are rushing to cop every night. He and the broad deal out of a bar three blocks from their pad. They deal mostly in eights and sixteenths. On a weekend night like this one they take off maybe five G's. The stud is got a rep as a fast-rod joker. He ain't got no direct syndicate connections as far as I know.xxii We ain't got to worry about him tonight. He's in New York copping a supply.xxiii The broad will leave the bar around midnight loaded with scratch. She'll have a few packs of smack on her too for the evidence to shake her. Her real name is Mavis Sims. She's gonna go to her short parked behind the bar. She ain't afraid of being heisted. Everybody is scared shitless of her old man. She's got a small rod strapped to her thigh. She ain't going to pull it on the police though. That's us, strange rollers from downtown. We gotta move fast on her when she bits that lot behind the bar. She's a slick bitch. We gotta be real rollers. We can't wake her up we're fakes. She's a strongxxiv bitch, I'd have to blow a hole in her if she reached for her rod.xxv There will be a pack of hard studs in the bar. They would love to croak us on that lot to please her old man. We gotta move her fast outta the neighborhood to play her outta the scratch. We gotta be careful the rollers don't join our party.xxvi Her old man is doing a lot of greasing in the district. Perry is gonna park our short in the street beside the lot. We arrest the broad and you play on her while Perry drives. I ain't going to rap.xxvii Ice, after we cop her it's up to you for the shake. You got to convince her."

Perry was really nervous. He pulled into the curb next to the bar lot. His skull was jiggling on his bull neck like he had Parkinson shakes. I was silent.

Red Eye's rundown had me wondering how it shaped up as a bird's nest to him.xxviii It looked like maybe a bird's nest for Dillinger.xxix If the mark hadn't been a broad I'd have split and got on an El train.xxx

I wondered if she'd seen me before I went to the joint. What if she made me right away as Iceberg and plugged me in the skull.xxxi Her old man might have outfit friends. If he did we'd be found in an alley with our balls rammed down our throats. We were standing in the shadows ten feet from the broad's short.

I said, "Red, I better take the rod. When we step out on her, shine the flashlight right in her eyes."

She was walking fast when she came into the lot. Her light blue chiffon dress was billowing in the April breeze. She was walking wide-legged like a whore after a long night in a two-dollar house.xxxii

My legs were trembling like a stud dog's hung upxxxiii in a bitch. I looked down at the badge pinned to the wallet in my palm. It glittered like molten silver in the moonlight. The thirty-two pistol in my right hand weighed a sweaty ton.

She was twirling a key ring. In the utter silence the clinking sounded like the U.S. Marshal's handcuffs. She had her hands on the door handle. I stepped out of the shadows. Red Eye was behind me. I wondered if she could hear my ticker hammering. Red Eye put the light in her face. Her yellow forehead wrinkled in surprise. Her sexy jib flapped open. I grabbed her wrist and tried to crush it.

I roared, "Police! What's your name and why are you sneaking around back here?"xxxiv

She stammered, "Gloria Jones, and I was coming to my car. I always park it here. Now get out of the way. I'm going home. The captain of this district is a personal friend of my husband's."xxxv

Red Eye had turned off the flashlight and moved behind her. She was looking down at the badge. She was trying to yank her wrist free.

I said in a low heavy voice, "You lying dope-peddling bitch. Your real moniker is Mavis Sims. We're from downtown. Your old man's no pal of ours. We're gonna bust you, bitch. I'll lay odds we've caught you dirty. Come on bitch, before we get rough. Anything I hate it's a stinking smack dealer."xxxvi

We hurled her into the back seat of our short. Red got in beside her. I was up front with Perry. I turned facing the rear seat. There was silence as Perry drove out of the district toward central headquarters. Missxxxvii Sims was squirming in the seat. Her right hand was out of sight behind her. She was getting very jerky. I remembered that rod she was carrying. I started the shake.

I said, "Al, this suspect is acting peculiarly. Perhaps you'd better pull over. She might have concealed some evidence behind the seat."

He pulled over. Red moved toward her. She slid to the window on the other side.

She said, "Officers, I'm clean. It's worth fifty apiece to cut me loose.xxxviii If you bust me, I'll be out in an hour. Take me back to the bar. I can get the hundred and fifty from the bar owner."

I said, "No dice, sister. We got specific orders to bring you in. Now don't make him slap a broad around. He's gonna frisk you. He don't have to wait for a matron to do it downtown. It's proper if he thinks you're armed and we're in danger."

He patted the inside of her thighs. It was there, a twenty-two automatic jammed under the top of her stocking. He took it out and shoved it in his pocket, searched her bosom, purse, shoes, and hair. She was sure clean except for the rod.

I felt like a real chump. All this trouble for nothing. He was scratching his chin. The junkie punk had put a bum finger on the broad.

I was at the point of shoving her out. Then it struck me. Where did my street whores hide their scratch? In the cat!xxxix In the cat, where else? The clincher was this broad's wide-legged walk. I had noticed it on the lot. She was leaning forward staring at Perry's face.

I said, "Joe, it's gotta be up her cat. Bitch, stretch out and put your legs across his lap."

She said, "The hell I will. You phony niggers ain't rollers. That big one at the wheel used to bounce at Mario's."xl

She was wise. The double saw I gave Red Eye had tapped me out. We had to know if she had treasure up her cat.xli

I wondered how he'd handle it. I didn't wonder long. He turned brute. He punched her hard in the nose. It was like he had cut her throat. Blood splattered over the front of her dress. I felt a light spray on my face.

She opened her mouth to scream. He smothered it with a terrible slam to the gut. She went limp. He pulled her across him. He darted his paw between her legs.

When he brought his mitt out it made a kissing sound. He had a long shiny plastic tube between his index and middle fingers. It stank like rotten fish.

The broad was moaning and holding both hands to her nose. He unwrapped the package. The pouch was bursting with scratch. In the center of the roll I saw the cellophane edges of packaged dope.

He got out and opened the door on the broad's side. He dragged her out to the sidewalk. He got in the front seat. Perry gunned away. I kept a sharp eye on Red Eye as he counted the scratch in his lap.

Red Eye and I netted two grand apiece. Red Eye took the packages of H. The broad dealer had forty-four hundred in the pouch. Perry and the junkie finger man got two bills apiece.

It was a week before we tried for the second mark. We shouldn't have. He was a reefer peddler and fence. We thought he had big scratch on him. We didn't have a driver.xlii We had the mark in the short. Red Eye was driving.

We were playing the peel off. The mark was in the back seat. I was in the front seat. I asked for his identification. He handed me his hide. I saw it had only a few slats in it.

We were pulling to the curb to search him. A two-man squad car passed. The mark saw them and started screaming. They stopped and dragged Red Eye and me out to the street. They kicked and beat hell out of us. They took us down.

The mark was slick. Right there on the street he cracked we took a C note from him. If he'd known about our roll, he could have beefed for four G's.xliii

The rollers saw our rolls and tried to pin every stick-up on the books against us. We went on every show-up for a week. We didn't get a finger. They booked us for armed robbery of the mark.xliv

Continued >>

———Remember back in the day, back in the days of youth, those gilt-golden days of yore when rainbows sparkled with each dewdrop and the why of not fucking them had to be explained, spelled out ? A young lad of nineteen was outright proud he'd managed to "keep his swipe out of them", like it were some kind of achievement, something to be clucked about like young hens laying eggs trumpet it to the world.

No explanation needed now ; like no explanation ever was needed, really. But... what does youth know. [↩]Does this coinage remind you of anything ?

Kissless whoreless pimpvirgins aside, do you, can you perhaps comprehend how much I love my life, the life I've myself for myself built ? The links I've at the ready, the references abundantly, exquisitely available to make my points... never was a life of the mind better supported, backed up, amply, elegantly dominant, arrogantly domineering of its environment, immediate as infinitely stretching away.

I know of no one in the unfurled history of life on earth to date who's yet been wealthier than I, ever, at any point, at all. Plenty who could've been, arguably, maybe, perhaps. Plenty who maybe arguably perhaps could've been that we know for a fact were not. While I... I've got it all. [↩]"Ah, curvele astea..." [↩]Right ? [↩]The team-equivalent of the pickpocket's stall, or the comedian's straight man I guess. Or no, wait, wait. A short's a car that's not a hog, that'd be the long an' the short of it. [↩]Cops go out just like any other streetwalker : teams of two. Three's a team and a half, four's two teams (meaning two cars), this genius plan might benefit from a little further brush-up. [↩]What the fuck happened to all that fame, o right, right, bycicle under firehose or how'd it go. A dog pee'd it, flushed it away. It's gone now.

Go, ask of Lefty from Mulberry street. Anywhere, urbi et orbi, all the seven buroughs, all the five hills... South Aventinus, East Caelian, Esquiline side, Qurinal Heights, ALL OVER. THE WORLD. Do they even have these there ? They must! It's everywhere!

Oh, and Viminalis, too. Everyone always forgets ole' Vimmie, poor him. He's there too, always was, and come to think of it... if you can (as you do) forget him, how's he ever gonna remember you ? [↩]Literally one year prior. These dear old hearts & gentle people's lifespans closely approximate the rats'. I guess I'm about three hundred old in dog years and five to nine centuries antique in pimp years ? [↩]As predicted. [↩]Not quite so much more, not really sufficiently above, not yet better by enough of a margin than ole Preston's tube in the side. Not just yet, is it. The boy sitting on a bundle o' lettuce a good million strong fails to see the difference between a quarter and a dime ; as his stash squanders away, as the pretty young broad's lead-in turns from breathlessly, exctitedly spoken "Daddy you're so pretty, you've got lashes just like a bitch's" to silently, knottily swallowed "you got deep black circles on that Haloween fright mug look like some tricky practical joker conned you to ram inked spyglasses against the sockets", as the million goes down to high society and below, as the thousands turn into Cs an' saws an' lone bucks... eventually the dime's visibly much less than the quarter.

But usually by that time one's stuck looking up to the dime, the dime that once was, from atop the height of a penny, whenever the penny's there. Occasionally, as it may come to be. [↩]Remember how that went, the first, the only other time ?

They were younger, then.

They were younger then, and happy still, and full of life. Young men and women of sixteen, seventeen, maybe nineteen, out "as best they could" to make themselves a life out of this world, to leave of themselves maybe a mark in this world. The marks are there, not in the world so much as on their faces (which sure, are just as much of the world as any other part of that strange, distant, inimaginable thing that's called "the world"). Vertical, though long dried out still bleeding wet. What's Phyllis saying, doing now ? Is Ophelia still there, with her ? What ever became of that old Ford ?

The same needle's eye, threaded again and again, the same endlessly spun endless circle treaded again and again. Yet how and where's Phyllis now... Does he still wonder if that little bitch will miss him ? Was he right in that she damn sure couldn't forget him ?

The things characters in a book are blind to are the book they're in. [↩]This is retarded. Here's how the pros do it : they hire a car thief for a driver ; he's supposed to steal a car that's been parked by a square who's done with it for the day (because that's precisely what being a square is all about, and why it's so deeply wrong : they build highways, that are there 24/7, to use them two hours once and two hours again later, and that's it). It won't be reported stolen until early in the morning, by which time it'll have been long abandoned anyways. This way there's nothing to trace. [↩]How about Antinous ? Jus' sayin, pretty boy. [↩]Sometimes they go off. [↩]He's specifically talking of one of you dumb bitches, gone to the big city to "be a writer" like you've seen Horseface "do it" (on TV, where mules can talk and someone listens when women do). This is what this guy makes of your precious self-esteem. And he's right on point, too. [↩]And here I thought you can do anything you set your mind to! [↩]The quintessential substance of the square is the dull and unyielding unwillingness to put anything above himself (and very rarely, herself). All other perceived properties, manifestations and charcteristics are mere reflections, however bent or fragmentary, of the square's essence, which is their mediocrity. It is for this reason that any attempt at making a world of squares readily reduces to attempting the snuffing out of humanity of anything and everything making it even worth the name. [↩]Absolutely, you need kindling to start any kind of fire. How in the hells they're not organizing themselves into little pimp support clubs, mutually guaranteeing the choice of a whore upon completing a prison term is to my mind incomprehensible. I'd absolutely do this, too, "Honey, Slim's out of the joint after that dumb wrap he took. Would you be a peach and get him started again ?"

Because why the hell not ?! People randomly stop to turn over the stopped car of people they don't even know, what, do these pimps love the whores now or something ?

Institutional know-how is the principal asset in "the life" ; what the turnout can learn from watching a whore do she can't learn from listening to rap ; the transfer of experience into knowledge through the brain is lossy enough, but the transfer of knowledge into practice through the mouth is a lost fucking cause. [↩]Peddling a pound of pure straight outta the slammer with no contacts and no experience is about as terrible an idea as a blind quadriplegic opening a barber's salon on the expectations borne by his dentist having congratulated him on his dental hygiene. Maybe the dentist was just being nice ? [↩]Very easy score, as easy as picking up the eggs from a bird's nest. [↩]That doesn't even have to be climbed for. [↩]Fucking 40s, man... [↩]Chicago was being supplied from New York, 2nd rate backwater... [↩]Decisive, brave. [↩]A pimp ready for murder one ? That's a sight. Not even the fact that only two in three murders are ever solved (today as then) seems to much encourage them (today as then). [↩]How's this carefulness to manifest itself, besides staying the fuck home ? [↩]This is already a dead giveaway, by the way. [↩]Because he wanted it to be ; and if you call things what you want them to be that's what they become. [↩]"We should've had shotguns for this job." [↩]He enjoys hurting them, or rather properly speaking not quite hurting them as such. He enjoys shaking their world up a little, as it were. That much is as it should be. [↩]What if she made him right away as Iceberg because she was one of the cop&blow seventy, and thereupon promptly asked to be forgiven, taken back, stripped and dispropertied ? You know this happens to me with some regularity ; not that my fame ever "rung" like his, of course (obviously louder and further away, yes, but I mean in the sense of, not in the same way). [↩]Do you suppose the narrow walk sociopopular with females is a honest signal, because if your pussy stays sore and swollen it's uncomfortable to try and walk that way ? Because I think it might be. [↩]Knotted.

Speaking of which, do you suppose Sweet still has that painting ? What do you figure he does with it ? [↩]Wrong lead. "You can always go down in price, you can never go up" is what he told the runt, by his own admission trite bullshit in everyone's mouth -- yet by no-one understood. How's he supposed to get himself out of the back alley screw of "who are you" into the plush pad fuck of "spread'em, Mavis, we been tailing your ring for months" now ? Hm ? [↩]Perhaps more aptly, "O yeah ? What's your captain's name, runts ?"

Always a good idea to go out strong when the party with the drop deployed any chaff (here, the flashlight). [↩]Not bad, actually. [↩]She's married, isn't she ? [↩]Apparently this was pretty much routine, huh. I wonder how many innocent people had fifties to throw around thusly. Kind-of a signature therefore of the career criminal, n'est pas. [↩]Now you know why his wads were always damp ; and also you know damp with what. [↩]Ouch. [↩]Maybe Mavis makes an even better bottom than Christine. All he has to do is throw her across the hall before her old man and then wait six months. Right ? It's in the skullbook, ain't it ? [↩]"Couldn't find a driver", rather. It's difficult to find accessory drivers willing to work for peanuts who also aren't "ex bouncers at Mario's" sorta jokers. [↩]What the fuck, these muppets bring their own money to robberies ?! [↩]So he was out what, two weeks ? Seems hardly worth the cost of processing, which is why they don't really dole out these joke 18 month terms anymore. [↩]

« Water

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 18 -- Jailbreak. »

Category: Adnotations

Tuesday, 20 October, Year 12 d.Tr.

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 16 -- Away from the track.

They locked me up in central jail. At dawn a jail trusty brought a basket of bologna sandwiches down the line of cells. A moment later another trusty brought a gigantic kettle of black stinking chicory. I passed up the delicacies.

The tiny cell was too small for two men. Eight of us were in it. I was lying on the concrete floor. I was using my rolled up benny as a pillow. My lid shielded my eyes from the bright bare bulb in the corridor.

My cellmates were bums and junkies. Two of them were getting sick. They were puking all over. The bums were stinking almost as bad as the junkies. A drunk lying beside me dug his fingernails into his scalp and crotch over and over. He scratched his back against the floor. He had to be lousy. It was rough going for a pimp all right.

I thought, "If someone had told me a year ago I'd be back in a shit-house I'd have thought he was nuts. Christ! I hope nothing happens to Chris. She's the only link to the outside I can trust to get my clothes and scratch.

"I know after she calls and can't get me at the pad she'll check out all the shit-houses. It's a good thing I'm not in the federal lockup at county jail. Here she can grease a mitt and see me. I hope she makes it before the U. S. Marshal shows to move me."

At nine the turnkey came and called out my name. I went to the cell door. He looked hard at me through the bar. He twisted the cell-lock open. I stepped out into the corridor and followed him.

He took me to a break-proof glass window with a speaking hole in it. I saw Chris on the other side of it. She was crying. I couldn't blame her. I felt like crying with her. I bent down and put my mouth to the hole. She stuck an ear against it on her side.

I said, "Baby, there's nothing to cry about. You're daddy's brave bitch, remember? Now listen. I want you to give the copper at the property desk a double saw or so for the key to my pad. I want you to get my scratch outta the sleeve of my green trench coat. Rent a safe-deposit box. Then move my stuff to your hotel. The Feds are gonna take me back to Wisconsin. They call it the point of origin for the runt's beef. They'll set a bond for me there. I'll get a slick lip in Wisconsin, baby you keep checking. Get to Wisconsin a day before I do with the scratch. I'll need it for the lip and bail, understand sugar? Once I get bail, I'll get our stable back and beat this rap."

I took my jib from the hole and put my horn there.

She said, "Daddy, I'll do everything the way you say. I understand. Daddy, I'll go and get the key to your latest hideout. Where did you move? I thought you were going to wait for my call?"

It didn't register. Maybe I was cracking up under all the strain and grief. Maybe I had moved before I got busted. I raised my head and looked at her. Her eyes were questioning. I pointed my index finger at the hole. I decided to risk my theory that I hadn't moved.i

I said, "Chris, goddamnit! I haven't moved! All my stuff is still on West Ave. Now come on, girl, this is not the time for jokes from daddy's witty bitch. You knocked on the door, I wasn't there. Naturally, I couldn't be, I was down here."

She said, "Daddy, I didn't have to knock. The door was wide open. Both trunks and all the suitcases were gone. In fact the only thing left was your hair brush. I put it in my purse. Daddy, all this is too much for me. I must be losing my mind."

I stood there glaring hate at her. Her eyes were wide, staring at me.

I thought, "Poison or Sweet has stolen this Judas-bitch from me. I'm in a cross. One of them has rehearsed this bitch. She's a sonuvabitching actress. A sucker looking at that innocent look she's got would have to buy the con. I hate this bitch worse than I do the runt. If I could just get my hands around her throat. I'd love to see her tongue turned black, flopping across her chin. Well, I can't croak her through that glass wall. No matter what, I've gotta stay Iceberg, I can't let her take back a chump emotional scene to report. She and her new man are not gonna get their kicks at my expense."ii

I turned and walked away from her. I saw the turnkey at the far end of the corridor with his back to me. Good thing for me he hadn't been close enough to lock me back in the cell right away. I was twenty feet from her when it exploded in my skull.

I thought, "It's the skinny flunky! It's the skinny flunky! It's the bastard that saw me get busted! He rushed back and sprang that spring latch. I gotta go back to Chris and really play some game. If she gets hip I don't trust her she'll blow for sure. She's the only stick I got to fight with."

I turned back toward her. She was still standing there. She was crying harder than before. I walked to the glass and spoke into the hole.

I said, "Chris, a joker in the building saw me get busted. He cleaned me out.iii Baby, we've been so close. I had a crazy thought that if you'd been thereiv I wouldn't have been robbed. What the hell, sugar, I'm the bastard that kept you away. It wasn't your fault at all. Christ! I'll be glad when this is over. Give a lip here in town a half a yard or so. Have him come to county jail and bring me whatever papers are needed to sell the Hog.v Get the slip on the Hog from the property desk. It's in my wallet. We should get twenty-five hundred or so for it. Bring that scratch and all you can hump up onto Wisconsin."

They moved me to Wisconsin. Chris came to county jail there and put three-thousand dollars in my jail account.vi

Mama came to see me. She was in pieces. She thought the government was going to give me fifty years.

At my hearing, bail was set at twenty-thousand. A bondsman put up the face amount. His fee was two G's. I got the state's best criminal lip. I gave him a G retainer.

Chris and I went back to the track. I stayed out on bail for four months. I had two turnouts and three seasoned whores during that time. None stayed longer than a month.

Everybody in the street knew about that rap over my head.vii I guess the whores didn't want to fatten a frog for snakes.viii Sweet and I didn't see much of each other. I didn't feel close to him any more.ix I was a pimp on the skids. Poison was top pimp.

Every slat I got my hands on I wired to the lip. I had to. I was getting one continuance after another. Finally I went to trial. The runt and Ophelia were there. They were afraid to look at me. They gave the government a penitentiary case all right.

They grinned at each other when I got eighteen months.x Mama fainted. Chris boo-hooed. I had a good lip though. With the counts against me I could have gotten ten years. Chris went back to the track. She swore she'd stick until I got out.xi

Leavenworth was what the government called a class-A joint. It was big and escape proof. It was run by master psychologists. There was no screwxii brutality. It wasn't necessary. The invisible mental shackles were subtle but harder than the steel bars. Alcatraz was the grim trump the officials held over our heads.

It was a joint of con cliques. The most dangerous clique was the Southern cons. They hated Negroes!

I had references as a cellhouse orderly from other joints. I got a spot in a cellhouse with mostly pimps, dope dealers and stick-up men.

I was out at night until ten exchanging newspapers and magazines for the cons. I'd been in the joint about six months. I stopped in front of a cell to rap to a pimp pal. He was excited and standing gripping the bars of his cell door. He was a yellow version of Top. They called him Doll Baby.

He said, "'Berg, you told me I couldn't steal the beautiful bitch. Well, the bitch sent me a kitexiii this morning. She's transferring to the shoe shop. I already got the spot picked out where I can sock it into her. I told you that square-ass peckerwood she's got couldn't out-play me. The bitch is got four bills on the books. She's getting me a big order on commissaryxiv this week. Shit, on the street or in the joint it's all the same to pimping Doll Baby."

I had seen the beautiful bitch. He was a lanky white boy with watery blue eyes and bleached corn-silk hair. A fat red-faced Southern con was madly in love with him. The beautiful bitch would lie in the fat con's arms in the yard and pick at the pimples on his face.xv The con was feared by everyone. He was the leader of a treacherous band of Southern cons.

I said, "Doll, you better cut that bitch loose. Her old man is from Mississippi. He's a cinch to cut your heart out in that yard. He can't let a nigger steal his broad. Take my advice, pal. I like you. You've only a year to go."

The next time on the yard I saw Doll and his bitch billing and cooing on the grass. They didn't see any of the ball game. The game was over. The fat con and his band of Southern shiv men had been evil eyeing Doll's show. I was fifty yards back of Doll when it happened.

Hundreds of cons were pressed together filing from the bleachers and playing field. I saw Doll throw up his hands and scream. He disappeared. The gray tide moved on. Three screws were standing over him. He was on his back. Blood was gushing from his open mouth. Blood seeped from holes in his jacket.

He lived, but he had a bitch of a time making it. He stayed hitchlessxvi for the rest of his bit.

Chris stopped sending me scratch or anything.xvii I got a wire she'd squared upxviii and married a pullman porter. She even had a baby. I wondered if the sucker knew what a boss bitch he had.xix

I was filing out to sick call one morning. A group of cons on the other side of the road was filing to work. I saw a con marching behind a dark-complexioned con raise something that glinted in the sun. It was a shiv. He was chopping away at the con. Finally the con folded dead. Screws rushed up and took the hatchet man away.

I was two months from release. I had stopped to rap to an old con forger who knew Sweet. We were shooting the breeze about stick-up men and how they stacked up in the skull department with pimps and con men. We were rapping loud. I knew the night screw was at his desk four tiers down on the ground floor.

I said, "Pops, a stick-up man is gotta be nuts. The stupid bastard maybe passes a grocery store. He sees the owner checking his till. Right away a stupid idea flashes inside his crazy skull. 'That's my scratch.' The screwy heist man walks in. Maybe the grocer is a magician or an ex-acrobat with a degree in karate, worse an ex-marine. The silly sonuvabitch doesn't realize the awful odds. He ain't got enough in his dim skull to think about the trillion human elements.xx Any one of them can put him in his grave. The suicidal sonuvabitch maybe has his back to the street with his rod in his mitt. Pops, the stick-up man is champ lunaticxxi in the underworld."

Pops agreed and I walked away down the tier. I heard a hiss from the cell next to Pops'. A new transfer was standing at his cell door. He was skinny with a rat face. I stopped. He was sneering at me. His hands were trying to crush the rolled-steel bars.

He stuttered, "You you lousy pim-pim-pimp motherfucker. You you pu-pu-pussy-eating sonuvabitch.xxii You-you ain't going to live your bit out."

I went fast to get a rundown on the nut from a stud on the tier below.

He said, "Ah, 'Berg, I hope you haven't crossed that dizzy bastard. He croaked a stud in Lewisburg. They hung fifty on him. He's a heist man. You better watch him close. He's a cinch to make the Rockxxiii or loony bin."

It was a week later just after the cellhouse filed out to the shops. The cellhouse screw had signaled "sick call." I was standing in the back of the cellhouse on the flag. I was lighting a cigarette to smoke before I started mopping and waxing the flag.

Somewhere above me an excited voice shouted, "Look out, 'Berg."

I looked up and chilled. A plummeting shadow flashed like black lightning in my eyes. I heard a whooshing whistle as it scraped gently against the cloth of my shirt at the tip of my shoulder. A dozen cymbals clashed as it grenaded against the flagstone at my side. I looked down. A steel mop wringer lay in three pieces. There was a Rorschach crater in the flagstone. Its outline was like a headshrinker's blot.

I stared at it and idly wondered what the prison head-shrinker could make of it. He was a slick joker. Months ago he had told me, "Pimps have deep mother hatred and severe guilt feelings."

I looked up. It wouldn't take a head-shrinker to figure this one. The rat-faced heist man was grinning down at me. He was on his gallery on the fourth tier near the ceiling. He had stayed for "sick call" to bomb my skull off. The crater symbol was easy. Rat-face hated pimps without guilt feelings tied in. That night I took a pack of butts to the con who had screamed out the warning to me.

The nutty bomber went to solitary. Two weeks later he tried to gut a con with a shiv made from a file. They shipped him to the Rock. I was ecstatic to see him go.

During my bit I had read the second cellhouse full of books. I had read mountains of books on psychiatry, psychology, and the psychoneuroses. I couldn't have done a smarter thing. I'd have to be my own head-shrinker when the white folks entombed me for a year in that steel casket in the future.

I got all my good time. I was released in the early spring of nineteen-forty-seven. I stopped off at Mama's for a week. Then I went back to the fast track.

I had sixty slats and the joint vine on my back. The clothes I'd bought while on bail were with Chris. Maybe her pullman porter was my size. Anyway, I wasn't going to do a "Dick Tracy"xxiv for a few used vines.

Sweet was still in the penthouse. He had blown down to only three whores. Poison had made a bad pimping blunder. He had turned out a white square and put his foot in her ass. It was the last straw for the downtown brass. They bounced him off the force. He had one whore. He bird-dogged her.xxv He took his scratch off after every trick like a Chili Pimp.

I rented a pad by the week. It was in the same slum district where the flunky had beat me for my roll and clothes. I had no flash and glamour, no pimp front. I was just another pimp down on his luck. I was starving for a whore.

In a pimp's life, yesterday means nothing. It's how you are doing today. A pimp's fame is as fleeting as an icicle under a blow-torch.xxvi The young fine whores are wild to hump for a pimp in the chips. A pimp in bad shape can't get the time of day from them. A pimp's wardrobe has to be spectacular. His wheels must be expensive and sparkling new. I had to get the gaudy tools to start pimping again.xxvii

Continued >>

———Frosty! [↩]Just when you thought he had nothing left to lose... [↩]Maybe he didn't expect to see a good pimp in a ratty rat trap like that.

Or maybe it's a stupid fucking idea to use cheap accomodation for value storage. Almost as stupid an idea as not taking Fay off the street to live-in, and trying to hole solo. I've never heard something this fucking dumb in my life ; but it's not much worse than breaking Phyllis' jaw because Carmen wasn't much of a whore, or staying put in a town with no support. What's this joker take himself for, Giulio Moneta, uno dei dieci latitanti piu ricercati del mondo, to hole himself up in a posh appartment overseeing the Colliseum in Rome like he doesn't give a shit because he doesn't give a shit ? He ain't no Giulio Moneta, shock an' surprise, he's nobody's nigger from the shithouse ; and come to think of it I don't think that unwritten "book" he's going by is really a skullbook. I think it's a gutbook, and I further think them guts writing it are mostly fulla shit. [↩]Motherfucking idiot. He just said she's his only asset, what the fuck is he going to have everything in the same bag so it can accidentally burn down in one fell swoop ?! She can't fucking be where he is, she has to be somewhere else for the exact fucking reason your left hand isn't inside your right hand, holy shit moron on wheels of 4 billion and change IQ. [↩]Why the fuck store rather than sell the hot car's anyone's guess ; why this misfortunate bottom bitch doesn't have her own wheels is one for the oracles, god knows she needs 'em way more than he does. Why's he never talked to Poison ever is beyond baffling.

Did this schmuck actually do anything for seven years running besides shooting up and droning on, pointlessly if incomprehensibly, at seventy or so women ? Because he doesn't seem to have much more infrastructure on the ground than he had when he first blew into town, there's not as much as a greengrocer owing him a favour, he's got no boat on lake Michigan an' no tunnel dug under the South side going back out across state lines in Indiana... he doesn't even know who his Senator is. Who is his fucking Senator ?!

Worthless dweeb, "skull game" and black hero pimps of yore. With studs like these it's little wonder Lincoln had to free the slaves, and it didn't take the first time so the Supreme Court had to free them again, and it still didn't take. It'll never fucking take, this sorta black lives couldn't possibly ever matter. [↩]So she "humped" five hundred dollars or thereabouts. Wouldn't you like to hear her out ? I'd like to hear her out. Tell me about the tricks, Chris. Short fat guy, lanky stooped guy, hairy greasy guy, shifty black guy, lots and lots, a coupla dozen guys at the least. In and out, glans stretching vaginal walls, meeting pearlike, lazy cervix hanging inside the folds, bouncing off it, squirting more or less towards it, six, twelve, twenty times. Another one. Twenty one. Let's go have a cuppa coffee... let's try again... walk, stop, go, I absolutely wish to fucking hear it. What's Chris thinking about, while "staring" for the third twenty in the fourth hundred ? What's going on inside her, while all that's going on inside her ?

I've no compunction whatever asking for what I need or what should be asked ; but I'd die of fucking shame if the use to which I put the fruits of those askings were anything as pitifully pointless as this guy's stock in trade. [↩]"Who's he ?"

"He used to be a bigshot."

"What's your relation to him ?"

"I never could figure it out."

Gangsters at least die better than pimps. [↩]You know ? [↩]And yet, the all-precious stable did scatter to the winds. Would it have been so much worse if Sweet had it, instead of some random porter ? Really ? [↩]This is shockingly light. The same piece of nonsense "legislation" ("transporting a female across state lines for immoral purposes", which readily included one's own girlfriend, as well as pretty much anything else) got Chuck Berry saddled with three years if memory serves -- nope, just checked, it was five -- and he wasn't even pimping. [↩]I'm curious now how he manages to lose her, the bottom bitch in the intro piece was called Rachel. [↩]Guardian. [↩]Inter-cell communication method, relying on strings hung outside windows from cell to cell. [↩]There's a system whereby convicts can buy various things on a sort of prison-run mail-order catalogue. [↩]Ew! [↩]Without a girlfriend. Well... "girlfriend", two-hole prison broads. [↩]Awww.

How, just fucking how can this reprehensible, iliterate lout evoke regret so exquisitely out of so little material at all. There's one measly line, and there's the emotion, full, rounded, resounding.

I wonder if anyone ever figured out just what a great life he and some of them seventy gals could've had, if it weren't for his bookish delusions. [↩][again] [↩]Likely not, but then again the thing's with boys that the less they know, the better it works out. [↩]The "bad at math" argument. There's some substance to it, but it's really not nearly as strong as it seems to pussies (be they pimps or confidence artists), chiefly because men are like ferrets. [↩]What does the fellow want to believe ? "Courage = lunacy", perhaps ? [↩]This isn't even so far off, pimps were probably the first to eat pussy among the underworld elements. [↩]Alcatraz. [↩]Play detective.

He's not going to as much as go over there, say goodbye properly. What sort of a man is this child ?! [↩]Kept his eyes on her at all times. [↩]Sooo then... why bother ? [↩]O brother.

Why so fucking insecure, anyways ? The young fine whores are wild for a good story, like anyone else. [↩]

« Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 15 -- In a sewer.

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Tuesday, 20 October, Year 12 d.Tr.

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 15 -- In a sewer.

After I had called Sweet and banged the cocaine, I had chilling thoughts.

"I've got five whores just like poor Preston had when Sweet crossed and destroyed him. I wonder if Sweet will dream up a cross to steal my whores from me? He knows where I'm padding. It would be as easy as lifting a telephone receiver. Sweet swears he loves me like I'm his son. These seven years on this fast track have hipped me to one solid truth. To a pimp there's nothing more important than copping whores. While I'm holed up, I'll keep my stable headaches a secret, I won't give him a cue to volunteer his help. It would be a bitch to have him handling my stable. I'm sure glad Chris is a boss bottom bitch. Oh! This pressure is really screwing my skull around. Sweet wouldn't cross me. I gotta stop mistrusting the only friend I got. I mean more to Sweet as his friend than any whore. Maybe I should make a run for it and set up shop in some other city. Christ! Why do I have to be red hot with federal heat? Why couldn't it be city or state heat? On this fast track I've only been busted and mugged once. A dozen other times I paid off on the street. That F.B.I. is a sonuvabitching genius. No, I'd better keep my hot ass in town right here in this cruddy pig sty.i The runt's a whore. Maybe her new pimp or a trick will croak her. Then I could walk into the F.B.I. office and stick my black ass out to be kissed. They'd have no case without the runt as a witness. The runt took Ophelia on all those out-of-state trips. I gave the runt instructions and expense money. I ain't never told Ophelia to cross a state line. The runt was screwing Ophelia. That was really the runt's bitch. It's a good thing I holed up in this rat's nest. The F.B.I. would never look for a good pimp in a sewer."ii

It was December, nineteen-forty-five. The war was over. The world was licking its bloody wounds.iii Drugs and the pimp gameiv had hardened away my baby face. My hair was thinning. I was turning twenty-eight but I looked forty.

For seven years I had devoted myself to getting hip to that pimp's book. I had labored with the zeal of a Catholic Brother agonizing for the Priesthood. I had thought and acted like a black God.

I was now trapped in my dingy one-room kitchenette. It was in a very old two-story building. I was on the first floor in the rear in number ten. Down the hall at night, rats would come scampering and squealing from the alley. They came under the back door which hung crookedly on its hinges.

I had a vague disturbing doubt in my skull. Was it possible I wasn't even a poor imitation of a God? Maybe I was just a sucker black pimp on his way to a third bit in the joint.v

Chris was the only one of the stable that visited me. We'd bang cocaine together. I wouldn't let her know how worried I was. God couldn't have skull aches.

I couldn't let the others see me in a crummy setting. After all, how could a God live like a square chump? Chris knew all the reasons why. To her God's farts still had the fragrant odor of roses. I worked out with Chris a smooth system. Even the best pimp has to keep some personal contact with his whores.vi

The system was simple and for a while effective. Chris and I would go out into the hall to the phone on the wall. She could call the stable at their pad. It would always be three or four o'clock in the morning.

One of the girls would pick up. Chris would pretend to be a long-distance operator. It was rare luck that Chris had a talent for mimicry. They didn't get hip to it. It would always be a person-to-person call from me to one of them. Chris and I conned them the calls came from New York, Boston, and Philadelphia.

I would get on the line and talk to all four of them. There were extensions in all four bedrooms. I could con and tighten my game on all of them at the same time.

The first call we made was supposed to be from New York. It took maybe a minute for me to have all their horns to receivers.vii

I said, "Well girls, I know you've missed daddy. You've all probably wondered, when in the hell is daddy coming back to town? Jesus Christ! Has he forgotten a whore needs to see her man some time? Sure we're in his corner. We prove that when we hump our asses off in the street. We check our scratch into Chris to send to him. Goddamnit, what could be so important that he neglects his whores? Well girls, I'm gonna show the kinda confidence daddy's got in you. I'm gonna hip you to a million-dollar secret. I know all of you will keep your jibs buttoned.viii"

Chris cut in crisply and said, "Three minutes are up, Sir. Please signal when through."

I continued, "You are the luckiest whores alive. Your man's got a genius white engraver for his pal. He used to be an engraver for the government. We've got some plates he's just finished. We've turned out three-hundred of the prettiest hundred-slat bills the human eye has ever seen. They're perfect. Even the government couldn't get hip to a difference from real scratch. There ain't any.ix We got one problem we're gonna solve if it takes a year. We've run outta the special paper the government prints its scratch on. My white genius pal even knows how to make the paper. We are playing it cool and traveling and copping inks and other stuff we need. It's tough to cop some of it, but for millions who's going to give up? As soon as we get the paper made up we're gonna run off a coupla million or so slats. I'm gonna breeze back into town the only millionaire pimp in the world.x I'm gonna buy a beach and a mansion in Hawaii for my stable. If we run outta scratch, we'll just run off another bale.xi So stay cool and keep humping. Oh yeah, Chris got a cab to the airport an hour ago. She should be getting home in a coupla hours or so. She's bringing each of you a piece of that beautiful lettuce. Spend it on anything you want. Take it anywhere, even a bank. Believe me, it's perfect."

I hung up. I had electrified them with the story. I could hear the excited thrill in their voices when they chorused goodbye. I told Chris to crack the genius had a way to make all the serial numbers on the bills different. I already knew what my story would be whenever I got the heat off me.

I could stall them a lifetime. I could say the genius got busted on another beef. I had to wait until he got out. He wouldn't tell me where the plates were hidden. He could even croak while doing his bit.

Chris called the next day.xii The whores were walking on air. They rapped all night about that perfect "queer." I was sure I had found the way to hold my stable. I felt like a genius myself.xiii

Each time I talked to the stable after that, the genius and I had just copped another vital item we needed.xiv It wouldn't be long now I assured them. Sweet had dropped the word in the street that I was on the West Coast taking off long scratch from a rich square broad.

It was getting almost impossible to sleep. I would almost jump from my skin when a tenant would knock. I would think it was the heat. The tenant would be calling me to the phone in the hall. When I did fall off into fitful sleep I'd have nightmares. Those dreams about Mama would hog-tie me on a sweaty rack of misery. I had an awful fear of another jolt in the joint. The guilty daydreams on the heels of the nightmares were torturing my skull.

I stopped banging cocaine. It only magnified my terror and worry. I remembered how serene Top used to look after a bang of H. He'd sit and coast like he was in a beautiful peaceful dream. Maybe he'd been right. Maybe sable H came after mink cocaine.xv

Chris came on Christmas Eve. She stayed until Christmas Day afternoon. She brought me pajamas, cologne and robes from herself and the girls. She had given them scratch from me.

My one-room kitchenette hideout was crammed wall to wall with trunks and suitcases. I had all those fine threads and no place to go. I was a lonely pimp bastard!

Sweet came to see me at midnight in January, the tenth I think. He took off his velvet-collared Melton benny. He hung it in the tiny closet. It had been ten-below-zero or colder for a week.xvi

It was a brand new year, nineteen-forty-six. The new Hogs were out for the first time in several years. The garage rent was paid for a year for my old Hog. Chris had gone out several times to run its engine for awhile.

I thought "Christ it would be a kick to trade off and flash through the fresh air in a new Hog."

It was the first time Sweet had visited me. He was getting white around his temples. There was less fiery voltage in his gray eyes. That H and the fast track had him looking terrible. He was getting old all right. He sat down on a suitcase at the head of the bed. I was lying down. Miss Peaches was an old lady, but still gorgeous in her mink coat and fur bootees. He slipped off her coat and shoes. He put them on the dresser. She sat on the floor looking up at me.

He said, "'Berg got bad news for you. The street wire says city rollers are carrying a mug shot of you around. You're really hot now. I gotta wire that pimping Poison is nosing around your girls in the street. If you ain't got Chris tight, he'll steal her. She's gonna hip him where you're hiding. Maybe you oughta get outta this joint tonight. Take another hide out. Don't let Chris or any whore you got know where you are. I'm your bosom buddy, sweetheart, and I love you. I'll keep the stable in line for you. In the meantime I could figure an angle to get your balls outta the hot sand. All you gotta do is call your girls. Tell 'em you want Uncle Sweet to look out for 'em for a coupla weeks. It's easy, pal."

I just lay there for a long moment feeling myself tremble. If he had been lovable Henry, my stepfather, saying he hated me, I couldn't have felt worse. True, I had conquered the fast track, but that sucker inside me I couldn't kill was hurting the hell out of me. I looked at him. Somehow I kept my voice steady and the pain outta my eyes.

I said, "Jeez Sweet, I'd have a bitch of a time trying to cop another friend like you. I feel like bawling just to think about it. I ran down my life story to you.xvii You know I love you like I loved Henry. Maybe I love you, Sweet, more than I love Mama. Don't think I'm a chump square when I say it. Sweet, you taught me to be cold-hearted. You're the only person on Earth who could hurt me. The jokers in the street call me Iceberg. They'd laugh their asses off if they knew I was weak for a stud I love like a father. Sweet please don't hip them I got a sucker weakness. Don't ever do anything to croak my love for you. Sweet, if you ever do, they'll all get hip. I'll maybe fall apart and run through the streets wailing like a crazy bitch. Sweet, I'll wait and think for a day or so. Poison can't steal Chris. I'll kick things around in my skull. Maybe you should be looking out for the stable.

The whole time I was talking, he had run his index fingers along the sword edges of his pant's creases. His gray eyes had found the suitcases and cluttered room fascinating works of art. He swallowed air and tented his bejeweled fingers under his first chin.

He said, "'Berg, this joint is wrecking your skull. Sweet would chop his right arm off before he'd cross you. You're the only friend I got, sweetheart. Shit, honey, you could have a hundred whores and I could be whoreless. I'd ask you to give me a bitch. I wouldn't try to steal no whore from you, darling. You need anything? I gotta split. I got two whores I gotta pick up downtown."

I said, "No Sweet, I don't need anything. I'll rap to you tomorrow. If you hear anything, wire me fast. I'm sure glad you dropped by."

I heard his heavy feet pounding down the linoleum in the hall. They stopped. I heard them getting louder. He was coming back. I looked around the suitcase where he had been sitting. I didn't see anything he had left. He thumped the door. I opened it. He had Miss Peaches in his arms. He was flashing the first gold-toothed grin I'd ever seen on his face.

He said, "'Berg I forgot to tell you. They found old Pretty Preston frozen stiff in the alley back of the Roost. The poor bastard had wrapped himself in newspapers. The Greek fired him a week ago for staying near the fire and not pulling marks on the sidewalk. The drunk half-white bastard thought the newspapers could stand off ten-below-zero."

He turned and walked down the hall. I shut the door and fell across the bed. At three Chris called. I told her to stay away until my next phony long-distance call to the girls. I told her Poison might try to tail her, and maybe the F.B.I.

She told me they didn't have a chance. She went in front doors of a half-dozen buildings then out the back doors before she came to me. When she got to my place she'd come in the back door and walk through the front door. She'd go through the alley then through the back door again before she came to my door.

Maybe they couldn't keep a tail on her. I told her to stay away to play safe. I told her not to call from the pad. It would be a bitch if one of the girls picked up an extension.

Sweet called the next morning at one A.M. The broad next door answered the phone. She knocked on my door. I slipped on an overcoat and walked into the hall. It felt like zero out there.

He said, "'Berg, I just got the wire. Poison stole your young bitch, Fay. I hope she ain't hip to anything that can cross you. 'Berg,' you gotta make some moves. I'll keep my horns to the wire."

He hung up. I was in trouble. I went and got back in bed.

I thought, "Poison's gonna quiz that stinking bitch. She's gonna spill that 'queer scratch' con I've been playing. To tighten his game on her he's gonna wake her to the con. He's gonna tell her I'm hiding out in the city.

"It's a good thing Chris is in on the con. I could blow whoreless in an hour if she wasn't. I need her to take the rest of the stable underground. Maybe I shoulda split outta town when I first got hot.xviii I gotta move the rest of the stable fast.

"Poison is a cinch to pull their coats to the con I played. It's the ace to play for a fast cop of maybe the other three. They'll be salty as hell with me if he gets a chance to wake 'em up. Hurry Chris and call!"

At three Chris called. I ran to the phone in my pajamas. I almost froze to death talking to her.

She said, "Daddy, I had to call you from home. Poison just left with Fay and her clothes. The black bastard has wised up the whole family to that game we played. Dot, Rose, and Pennyxix are larcenied to the gills. They're crying and packing their clothes. I can't hold them. They hate me.xx Poison came into my bedroom before he split. He acted and rapped like I was already his whore. If I'd had a pistol I'd have croaked the strongxxi bastard. He said, 'Well Miss Bitch, your nigger is finished. You're the only whore he's got left. I know a fast pretty bitch like you don't want no pimp you gotta solo for. With my Fay cop, I got eight whores. I'm on the inside of this game. None of my whores take falls. I'm top pimp in town. You're the best whore in town. There ain't nobody but me you can take for your man.xxii Bitch, come to me and you can be queen boss bitchxxiii of the eight-whore stable.xxiv Get your domes and get outta here with me and Fay.xxv Iceberg is going to the federal joint.'"

She said, "Daddy, what happens now? Maybe Poison will come back and gorilla me. I'm so upset, I know any minute I'll scream myself into a padded cell."

The zero drafts blasting through the gap under the back door kept me from passing out. I felt cold sweat dripping down my shaking legs. My throat was having dry convulsions. My voice sounded like it came from an echo chamber.

I stammered, "Chris, don't lose your cool. This is Iceberg remember? Like always I'll put an angle together. Now listen carefully. Pack your things. Go down and get the building flunky. Pay him to take you to a hotel near the garage where the Hog is stashed. Check in and leave your things. Go to the Hog. Drive back and pick up your stuff. Go downtown and check into a hotel. Drive the Hog back and stash it back in the garage. Take an El train back to your hotel. Call me then."

I went back and washed my face in cold water. I looked in the mirror. I looked like I had on a Halloween fright mask. I sure didn't look a bit like a fresh-faced kid any more. The whites of my once bright eyes were blood-shot and faded.xxvi The deep black circles looked like some tricky practical joker had conned me to ram inked spyglasses against the sockets.

I started looking for a yellow. I had to put a damper on my nerves. I had a little cocaine. I didn't need racing. I needed some skull pacifying. I was out of yellows.

Somewhere in one of the suitcases I had a notebook. The phone number of a connection no farther than fifteen blocks away was in it. Maybe he had yellows. If not, what the hell, I'd cop a cap of H. One cap couldn't hook me. Horse was a cinch to kick the jitters outta my skull.

It would be two hours at least before Chris would call back. I found his number. I called him. I told him, in code, I'd pick up six caps within the hour.

I had a fat roll of scratch in a sock pinned inside the sleeve of a trench coat. I started to take it with me. I stuck it in my benny pocket. It bulged like a grapefruit. I'd be back before long. I pinned it back inside the sleeve.

I had close to sixty-eight hundred slats stashed there.xxvii I fished out three saw bucks. I slipped pants and a shirt over my pajamas. I put on shoes and a heavy benny.

I was in a helluva hurry. I pulled the door shut. I heard the spring-latch lock. Less than five minutes after I had talked to the peddler, I was on the way. It was four A.M. when I left. The wintry winds almost snatched my lid off my skull. It felt good though. It was the first time I'd walked in the fresh air for months.

A bleak overcast blotting out the sky. Slipping and sliding on the icy sidewalks, I finally got to thexxviii connection. He lived on the second floor over an all-night chili joint. The joint was crowded. There was no one on the sidewalk. I went up the rickety stairs and copped five caps of H.xxix He put the caps into the cellophane shell from a cigarette pack. He twisted the end and balled the package.

I took it and went down the stairs to the street. I had the sizzle in my hand. I started to walk by the chili spot on my way home. Two neatly dressed brown skin studs were standing on the sidewalk in front of the joint.xxx Its bright lights floodlighted the sidewalk. It was like walking a show-up stage at a police station.

From the side vent in my eye I saw them pinning me. They stiffened. One of them reached toward his chest. I looked back. He was showing his buddy a small square of paper. I started walking fast away from them.

I remembered the sizzle. I downed it and walked faster. I knew they couldn't see in the darkness that I had dropped it. I glanced over my shoulder. I saw a rod in the hand of the taller one as they ran toward me. I ran.

They were bellowing, "Halt! Police! Halt! Stop or we'll shoot!"

I had reached the corner and was halfway around it. I saw a fourman squad of white detectives. They were cruising toward me in a police car. They threw a blinding spotlight on me. I froze. They all looked at me. I saw a shotgun muzzle ease out of a fast-lowering rear side window.

The two rollers chasing me skidded around the corner. In a way I was glad to see them. Those rollers in the cruiser probably hadn't croaked anybody in a week. I really didn't want them to break their luck on me.

The two held onto me like I was Sutton. The white rollers shut off the spotlight and moved slowly down the street past us. The shorter one had handcuffed my hands behind me. He showed his buddy the picture. They looked up at me.

The taller one said, "Yeah, it's the bastard all right. Look at the eyes."

They searched me head to toe. They saw the lone saw buck I had. They hustled me back around the corner. We passed a skinny black joker standing on the corner. He nodded at me. I recognized him. He was in my building. I had sent him for groceries and change for the phone a dozen times.

I got a fast glimpse of the picture as the roller slipped it back inside his coat pocket. It was me. I remembered the pearl-gray sharkskin suit and black shirt. Top and I had been together four years ago. The two white rollers who had hit on us hated Top because he had white whores. They wouldn't take a pay off. They booked us on suspicion of homicide and mugged us. Top and I were out in less than two hours. It was the one and only time I had been taken in on the fast track.

They put me into the rear seat of an unmarked Chevy. They were in the front seat as the tall one drove away.

I said, "Gentlemen, it's not gonna put any scratch in your mitts to take me in. Let me give you the price of a couple fine vines to cut me loose."xxxi

Slim said, "Shit, you couldn't cop one bullshit vine in a hock shop with the scratch you're carrying."

I said, "I got more scratch at my pad. Knowing I'm Iceberg you can believe that, can't you? Just run me by there, I'll get it, lay a coupla C's apiece on you and fade away. How about it?"

Slim and Shorty looked at each other.

Shorty said, "You think we're suckers? You got a federal warrant for white slavery outstanding. We didn't hear a word you said about that chicken shit four C's."

I said, "All right, so we're all like black brothers. The bad difference is the F.B.I. wants to lynch your brother in court. You gonna throw me to the white folks for hanging? I'll give you two grand apiece to beat the F.B.I. outta their pound of black meat."

Slim said, "Where's your pad?"

I thought fast. It had been a mistake to crack about my pad. If I told them they could take my whole stash and still bust me or croak me. I was a fugitive. They might even come back to the stash after they took me in. I had the key to the kitchenette in my pocket. I tested them.

I said, "You know Sweet Jones. He's a friend of mine. I can get four G's from him five minutes after we get to his place. I can't take you to my pad. I got a close friend there. Suppose after we got there you'd change your minds about the deal. You'd have to book him for harboring me."

Slim said, "We can't cut you loose. We couldn't do it if you gave us forty G's. I just remembered you were in that spotlight back there. One of those downtown men could have made you. Sorry brother, but what the hell? Federal joints ain't bad to pull a bit in. Thanks for popping up like you did. You make a great pinch for us."

Continued >>

———Ummm...

Why not try out say LA, what's all the Chicago rednecks got against travel. "Oh check out my boss ride, I've never driven outta Wichita. I really need all those HP and shit tho! For turning around." [↩]Bwahahaha.

Cuz the notion of a good pimp even exists for those retarded pencildicks, they're too dumb to get their square ass out of a round paper bag but nevertheless they can tell a "good" pimp from a stale bundle of lettuce.

What does the fellow want to believe ? [↩]Ce frumoasa este viata... [↩]But mostly the drugs.

All that girl bangin's very far from "keeping the game frosty" and very close to the stupidest use for money possible. If he just bought superball tickets for it all, at least it'd be possible, however theoretically, to win something. [↩]This seems rather a distinct possibility. [↩]This is so fucking ridiculous... [↩]Whoreference. [↩]You may be qualified to win a complimentary all expenses paid totally free aluminum siding job! [↩]So they're printing circulated bills or what. [↩]So basically he's decided he's never seeing them again. In which case, what the fuck, why even bother with the whole charade, still. Ever. Why have them still "humping", why... What was all the "jewelry" for, what the fuck was it all for ?! Seriously, a coupla desk jockeys in a basement somewhere and that's it, end of the line, the "greatest in the country", the "black God", all's gone in a sudden puff of smoke ?

At least bomb the FBI office, fucken coward. What was it all for! [↩]Ahahaha, check it out, in his wildest dreams from the pit of despair he dreams of being... me. [↩]I bet they giggled awkwardly like preteen idiots, too. [↩]In another few years he might even wake up one fine morning having just turned twelve years old. [↩]Too bad this didn't end up taking the obvious path towards religious community, they could wait for the second coming of the harley-sorrybop comet/spaceship just as well.

I'm starting to think there's a main series cons like there's a main series stars, they just go a certain way by accretion mass, volume and speed. [↩]This sure is going just down the well greased drain Phyllis predicted. Aren't you wondering at this point whatall this thickskulled nigger omitted in his narrative ? His mammy's life story dun make any sense, doesn't stand up, it's so far from checking out it might as well be a pile of random newspaper cutouts arranged happenstantially. And the runt's does ? Nope, same nonsense, polished smoother but just as poorly fitted, I'm even willing to bet the fake bitch ain't in "the stable" anymore. He quit mentioning "Carmen", didn't he ?

What else did Phyllis say, and do, that the raggity nowhere scarecrow simply omitted ? Wouldn't you like to read her story, "Whore, by Phyllis Williamson." ? Too bad women don't exist. [↩]Good thing he didn't split for Miami. [↩]Just like a bitch. [↩]Gee, ya think ?! [↩]Yup, no Carmen. [↩]Good fucking thing he had the presence of mind to identify his mortal enemy early and correctly, in the hunched-over diminutive person of some black chick that gave him her asshole, her Ford, and then topped it off by handwashing his socks in the sink. That was it. Phyllis the runt, his whore, his woman, his one and true mortal enemy. For being there.

Not some dubious crossdressing swamp dweller, o no, not him. Not a whole bunch of tediously uppity dumb old bitches, with notions and ideas about "how things should be". No, none of that, for being too distant, far away and remote to enter his thoughts at all. Gotta hate what you can punch, right ? That's gonna be the enemy, whoever's in range, enmity by proximity, choice by convenience, "black pimps" of kiss my ass. [↩]Impudent, fresh. [↩]What an utter loser angle. [↩]You know, that thing. [↩]He's got 7+1 and no bottom ?! Da fuck's this insane nonsense ? [↩]He didn't even want the other three ? [↩]Lotta front and flash, or how did he call it.

Fucking idiots with their diamong rings and whatnot. What's a diamond ring supposed to do, make a sucker out of a sucker out on the lam ? Anything else ? [↩]After seven years ?! Seven years with four-five whores ?! Less than a buck a night a head ?! This retard might be the worst manager the world has ever seen.

He shoulda bought powerball tickets instead, all the way. [↩]At least have the common sense to call out multiple, maybe ? [↩]Because one cap couldn't hook him. Gotta make sure. [↩]Connection sold him out, which is a large part of how "connections" operating from their home atop an all-night chili joint even stay in business in the first place. Da fuck's he doing scoring hot, anyways, what, he's got no-one to do it for him ? O, right, right, he's got no one, I forgot he's no gangster, just some 2nd tier pimp. [↩]And go... where ? To do... what ?

He's better off in prison. At least he can play cards in there. Three squares, no girl to bang, he'd live longer and truth be told a better life.

That "skull book" sure paid off for him, huh! [↩]

« Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 14 -- The mistake.

Pimp. By Robert Beck aka Iceberg Slim. Adnotated without permission. Chapter 16 -- Away from the track. »

Category: Adnotations

Tuesday, 20 October, Year 12 d.Tr.