Chapter 4
Customers Of The Baby-Pros
What manner of man becomes a customer of the Baby-Pros? Is he deranged, immature, a cad or a lover? Is he married? Does he have children of the same age as those to whom he pays to make love? Is the number of Baby-Pro customers decreasing or on the increase?
These questions and others were asked of Inspector George Simmins, recently of the Chicago Police Department.
"The first thing men in the vice squad learn about the men who use Baby-Pros and other prostitutes is that we cannot generalize about them," said the Inspector. "They come from nearly every walk of life, many of them are married and have children, and I'd say that most of them are not very different from you and me."
Regarding the amount of business Baby-Pros can expect in the future, Inspector Simmins said, "Prostitution follows the economy of the nation and the city where it exists. When times are good, so is the prostitution trade. When the economy is pinched, the prostitutes feel it too. But I would say that there are more men paying for Baby-Pros today than ever before. The reason-I don't really know. Maybe it's the emphasis that's placed on youth today. More men are influenced by youth and are more aware of their own fading sexual capacities. So, they have their own youth rejuvenated by a visit to a highly stimulating Baby-Pro."
Psychiatric authorities feel that most men who become customers of early teenaged girls have deep-rooted psychological problems. The immature, the sexually inferior, and the pedophile, are more-likely to seek youth as a sex-subject than are other men, claim the professionals.
The cases which follow, taken from police and psychiatric reports, disclose several types of men who contribute to the flourishing trade of the Baby-Pros.
CASE HISTORY
York B. after his arrest and a resultant psychiatric interview was classified a "pedophile." A pedophile is a man who manifests his sexual drive toward young children, sometimes both boys and girls. The former he often uses in acts of sodomy, the latter in sexual intercourse, fellatio, cunnilingus, or sometimes through masturbatory manipulations. And some pedophiles need none of these active endeavors to receive the satisfaction they seek from young girls; a mere touch or exposure of themselves to the girl-subject is enough to bring them to a climax.
York, although he was married and the father of teenaged daughters, sought his total sexual satisfactions from the Baby-Pros. He was affluent and a frequent visitor to the house of prostitution that housed the young girls.
It had been years since York had had sexual intercourse with his wife. She, a frigid-type woman, did not mind in the least. She had her family; that was enough. Sex was cumbersome and bothersome and much too messy for the neat Mrs. B. And for a long time the absence of sex didn't bother York either.
Then he turned fifty and began noticing the pre-pubescent and early pubescent girls of the street.
It become York's habit to spend much of his leisure time in the park where the children played. It was here that he experienced his first sexual release as a result of a young girl's body.
York's eyes had followed the movements of a particular girl who appeared to be about twelve. He was infatuated with the vitality of her body, the way her young buttocks sparked out from her short skirt, the way her bare thighs flashed in and out of sight as she ran about the park. And he thought the puffs that were to one day be her breasts were the sweetest signs of youth he had ever witnessed. He could not keep his eyes from her. And when she chased a ball that had escaped her hands and lodged under the park bench where York sat, his heart fluttered madly and he felt a sudden heat sweep him like a brush fire.
"Here-I'll get it for you," York said to the girl.
He bent over and reached for the ball beneath the bench just as the girl started to do the same thing, causing her shoulder and thigh to strike lightly at York's arm. Immediate erection resulted for York. It had been years since he had known anything but impotency. He was amazed. He was pleased. He was very excited and a little aghast at this old reaction that was made new to him once more.
York raised and handed the child the ball. The brush of her fingers against his hand as she took the ball further stimulated him. For a moment, he was sure he would erupt as he sat there smiling at the child. Even the scent of her, that of youth and freshness, was a stimulant that churned York with even greater, more intense passion.
The girl took the ball, thanked him, then darted away. York continued to watch her as she played.
Soon, her playmates departed and she was left alone. She looked around, then walked over to York.
"Would you like to play catch?" she asked.
"I-I wouldn't mind at all," he answered.
They threy the ball back and forth a few times, then York, wishing for a touch from her body again, became inventive and made the game into a keep-away kind of combat. Purposely, he held the ball high over his head, making the girl laugh and screech and come close to reach for it. York felt the bump of her knees, then knew the total crush of her body as she leaped high and came crashing down the front of him. Nearly fainting from the thrill that he knew, York cuddled the ball to his lap, causing the girl to reach for it. Her hand darted out and struck hard against York's phallus. He ejaculated, felt stunned and near-unconsciousness and very, very far away from the scene that placed him with the child.
He left the park as quickly as he found composure. That night, sparked with thoughts of the potency that had been returned to him, he began the preliminary acts of sexual intercourse with his wife. She was astounded. And disgusted. She told him he was a silly old man. It didn't matter. York knew that he was incapable of an erection with his wife.
The next night, through the cooperation of a taxi cab driver, York visited a house of prostitution. The girl he bought was very pretty, in her middle twenties, and incapable of stimulating York to a sexual act. He left the place deeply dejected.
For the next week, York spent hours at the playgrounds of the city. And here, sitting amid the bouncing bodies of the city's young, he knew once again the hard, pulsating erection that signified his need for a female-one of very young years. When he offered to push a child of about eleven on the swing and she accepted, he found his outlet. Bringing the swing and the girl to a jarring halt against his stretching manhood, he once again found release.
York visualized fantasy scenes of himself and a girl of twelve or thirteen enjoying an act of sexual intercourse together. He tried to dream how great it would be. But the strains of his law-abiding background and his fear of disclosure and arrest were too strong. He knew that he would never truly know a child as he wished. The risks were too great.
By chance, some weeks following the return of his masculinity, York read a newspaper article concerning the arrest of early teenaged girls. They had been apprehended and detained for prostitution. York was astonished. He never believed that young girls participated in the sale of their bodies. It seemed preposterous. And, it offered him hope.
A few days later, York again sought out a cab driver. The Cabbie couldn't help him, but he knew a bell boy at one of the major hotels who could. Money changed several hands and York finally found himself in a room at a distant hotel awaiting the presence of the young girl he had purchased for an hour.
York has stated that when the Baby-Pro entered the room, he thought he would faint because of his desire for her. She was so lovely, so young, so exquisitely fresh, that he was sure he could not move, could do nothing but sit where he was, erupt because of the sight of her, then faint. (York's frequent reference of "fainting," caused by the intensity of his feelings, was of considerable interest to the court's psychiatrists who finally decided his fate. Their conclusion was that York's basic "goodness," his respect for law and order, prompted this reaction both because of his guilt and the consciousness of what he was thinking and wanting to do, and as a wish that he would truly faint, enabling him to escape the torment of his wrong-doing.)
The Baby-Pro appeared to be about twelve or thirteen. She was very blonde and pretty, although plain. Her smile was vivacious. There was an uncontrived motion to her hips as she moved that seemed to York to shout of the glory and goodness of things that were past for him and gone forever.
"Hi," she said brightly.
York smiled and nodded.
The girl came close to him and paused in front of him. She wore a short, terry cloth bath robe which caused York to wonder if she wore anything beneath it.
Trembling a bit, York rose from the chair. Then he reached one hand out and touched lightly at the small bumps that were her breasts.
She laughed and jumped back a pace, saying, "You're funny-is that all you want to do-just touch?"
"No," he said soberly.
"Well, I just wondered. Some men are like that you know."
"Are they?"
"Oh yes. Some of my best customers are like that."
"How do you feel about that?" he asked.
"Oh, I don't know. Sometimes mad, I guess. You know, after all I am kind of pretty and when they just do that to me-well, it makes me feel kind of restless. After all, a girl should get something out of it, too, shouldn't they?"
"Yes. They certainly should."
She laughed, then said, "You're kind of nice, you know."
"Am I?"
"Sure. I can tell. You're kind of-sweet."
"I'm glad you think so," York said. "You see-well, all this is a little new to me."
"Yeah, I can tell that too," she said. "Jeeez, most of these guys make it like a football game. You know, I walk in and they throw me on the bed before I get a chance to even talk."
"They're beasts," he said, feeling, he has claimed, a certain jealousy for those other men who had known this Baby-Pro.
The girl laughed again, told him once more that he was "funny," that he seemed "nice," then placed one hand on the belt of her robe.
York looked at it, and waited.
The girl smiled and loosened the belt. Then she let the robe part down its middle, revealing to York flashes of young flesh that made his blood heat and surge through him like a rocket.
York loosened his tie. Then the buttons of his shirt. When his fingers fumbled, the girl hurried to aid him and finally separated him from his clothing.
When he was naked, the girl took a step backwards and looked openly at the strength of his manhood.
"Jeeeez, you're great," she said, Her words released York from his feelings of inadequacy, released him, too, from all inhibitions that cursed his mind. He stepped forward, his anxious hands outstretched and reaching for her small breasts. The girl gave them by a slight arch of her body as she slipped the robe from her shoulders and dropped it to the floor.
York cupped her small breasts in his hands and trembled more violently. Then he pinched the tiny, pink nipples which were beginning to stretch outward from their flesh-moulds. The girl half-closed her eyes in a sign of the pleasure she felt. Then she returned
York's caress, reached out and gripped him gently at the very point of his immense strength.
"Oh, no, child," he exclaimed, gently gripping her wrist and moving her hand away.
Surprised, she asked, "Don't you like that?"
"Oh, yes, very much, but I can't stand it right now. I might-might-"
"I know what you mean," she said.
They moved to the bed. The girl stretched upon her back with her arms over her head, causing her to seem almost breastless while her small belly indented drastically. York sat on the bed's edge and looked at all of her lithe body. Then he ran his hands over all of her and as he did so he felt titanic emotions growl within him, urging him onward, more aggressively, to give more of himself as he sought also to please the girl. He bent and kissed her rosebud breasts.
"Ummmm," that's nice," the girl whimpered. Then she was moved to moan deeper and say, "Ohh, Jeeez, that feels good," when York shifted his position and kissed gently at her thighs.
As he adored her young body with lips and tongue York felt pride for his body for the first time in years. He felt young and strong and very, very virile. He was the master, she his love. He was King, the girl a loyal subject.
When York became more dynamic in his oral giving to her young womanhood, the girl wheezed a bit, arched, moaned lovingly, then began a light up-and-down motion of her body that brought her in light, bumping contact with his hungry mouth.
At the same moment that York, unable to stand anymore play, pulled away from the girl, she stopped her arching and braced into position for love.
Shakily, York moved above her. The girl's feet locked within the bend of his knees. Then she arched again.
Slowly, expertly, while he sought and could not find any moment of his life to compare with the delicious quality of the moment, York lowered to the girl, paused at the font of youth as if it were an idol, then pressed downward and inward, feeling all of the girl clutch to his moving self as if a million fingertips played their tune of love upon his flesh.
"Jeeeeeeez, but you're good," the girl whispered. Then she arched more vigorously, exciting faster movement from York.
The journey to returned youth was a short one for York. And for the girl, too. Stroking smoothly for a dozen movements, he could no longer contain himself. He rammed and jammed and fought himself to her, anxious for the moment that was to release him, yet sorrowful for it, too, because it would mark an end to the greatest glory he had ever known.
He yelped when the swell of him reached its peak and exploded. And the girl joined his cry as she hurried her hips to her own completion.
When their bodies separated and York rolled to his side, gasping, feeling the after-effects of exertion rake his body, he mumbled incoherently, insanely, of things long vacant from his life; of love and excitement and youth.
When the girl left the bed and started to make ready to leave York, he felt that he could never let her go. And for awhile he didn't have to. He paid for another hour, resurrected his strength and tried again. This time he was slow and masterful, even sending the girl to a screaming climax, one more intense then that which she had known earlier.
Following his first experience with early pubescent love, York became an addict. He visited the girl often. He found other Baby-Pros for the variety that his new found potency required. He dabbled in cunnilingus, fellatio, anal intercourse, and breast masturbation. He was well known by all the Baby-Pros throughout the city. His work as a bookkeeper suffered. His expenses rose. And finally he was diverted to the extra sex indulgence of unwary children in the parks and by the pools of the city. It was a park, deep within the woods while forcing the seduction of a twelve year old girl, that York was arrested and finally sentenced for statutory rape.
CASE HISTORY
Clarence L. came to the attention of a Midwestern city recently when he was found to be living in a low-income, city housing project with his fourteen year old niece. He had gained admission to the city dwellings through falsification of his marital and family status. But Clarence claimed innocence of any sexual wrongdoing with a minor child when he was confronted by police.
"Look at the kid-have her examined by a doctor if you don't believe me," he told an assistant prosecuting attorney.
The police did just that. Clarence's claim was affirmed. His niece was a virgin, her hymen was in order. But, still suspicious, the police conducted an intense interrogation of the girl and unraveled a story of gross, incestuous promiscuity.
Clarence, at forty-eight years of age, had never successfully met with a mature woman in an act of sex. From the age of about seventeen, his sex drive was directed toward prepubescent and early pubescent girls. He had known homosexual affairs with young boys, too, but it was the light, floating bodies of the twelve and thirteen and fourteen year old girls that really intrigued him and sent him into spasms of sexual gratification. When he could not bribe or pay for the body of a child, he forced his attentions upon her. But usually, a bribe was enough. Clarence found an abundant supply of the young who would submit to his sexual advances because it was not intercourse that he wanted. Clarence L. was driven by a desire for a multitude of sexual deviations. All of them excluded sexual intercourse as a media of contact.
Clarence L. found both a constant sex partner and a means of livelihood when his niece, who was thirteen at the time, confided to Clarence that she was going to run away from home-that she could not endure the drunkenness, the poverty, the quarrels and brawls of her parents' home. Clarence invented an intrigue under which his niece left her home and moved into the small apartment he kept in a slum section of town. When he successfully applied for, and received, city-supplied housing, Clarence went into business as pimp for his niece. He introduced her to his sexual wishes as she left the bathroom wrapped in a towel on a Saturday afternoon.
"Hey, where you going?" he asked.
"To dress, Silly, where do you think?"
"You don't have to do that," he laughed. "Stay just as you are. That's a mighty cute costume you're wearing there."
"Silly."
He walked over to her and put his hands at her waist. Then he looked into her eyes and said, "Guess you know I expect a few things from you for doing all that I've done to get you out of that crummy place you lived in."
"Crummy, eh?" she snorted. "And I suppose this dump is any better?"
"It's not now, but it can be."
She showed interest. He explained the advantages of free-lance prostitution under his sponsorship. The girl sparked with interest. But she had doubts, too.
"None of that jazz for me, Unks," she said. "You ain't going to find me having any babies."
"There are ways to prevent it," he said.
"Yeah, and they don't always work either."
"Don't tell me you haven't already done things with boys," he said accusingly.
"Sure I have," she admitted. "But nothing that's going to get me with a baby."
"You're a virgin?"
"I sure as hell am, and I'm going to stay that way."
"Well I'll be goddamned," he exclaimed. "Come on, tell me-what have you done with the boys?"
She glanced down to where her breasts bulged against the towel. Then she said, "Oh, I've let them touch me a little-and I've touched them."
"Is that all?"
"No." She paused, then said, "I've-you know-played with them."
"Yeah, go on."
"And they've played with me."
"Touched you, you mean."
"More than that."
"You mean played with you down here," he said, bringing his hand to nudge between her thighs.
"Hey-stop that," she shouted.
"Stop pretending, kid," he said gruffly. "And come'er, you might as well learn right now that what I say, goes."
She withdrew a step, but not far enough to prevent Clarence from lashing his hand out and catching her by the hair.
"Hey-that hurts," she cried.
"And it's going to hurt a hell of a lot more if you don't hurry up and learn the facts of life. Come'er and learn em'. "
Clarence half-dragged his niece into the bed room. Then he stripped the towel from her body. His eyes gleamed and softened a bit as he looked at her body which was exceptionally well-developed for her age; which showed large breasts with finger-pointing nipples that stuck out sharply from the softness of her flesh, and a flat belly with its navel round and pinched.
Clarence made a quick movement to the zipper of his trousers, exposed himself, then gripped his niece by the hair again. Then he settled himself on the edge of the bed as he forced the girl to her knees in front of him.
"Come on, kid, give," he said. "I got an idea you won't mind a bit."
And, some what to her own surprise, she didn't. Soon, her head was bobbing upon him of its own accord without the guidance of his fingers entwined in her hair. And at the end, when the flow of him passed to her she had admitted experiencing a certain thrill, one that promised greater thrills of more intense magnitude in the future.
This initial sexual incident resulted in a partnership between niece and uncle that lasted until it was disrupted by a police investigation. Clarence had a source of income and the constant, deviate sexual availability of his niece. The girl had Clarence's pledge that she need never submit to sexual intercourse, that he would procure only those clients who themselves had no interest in a normal sex act.
The girl's first customer desired only fellatio. The second was a fan of cunnilingus and succeeded in exciting the girl to a pitch that just bordered on orgasm. With her third customer, she learned about anal penetration and her fourth required only that she manually manipulate him to masturbation finish. But it was her fifth customer who added a flair to the girl's young life. It was he who entered the whore-chambers carrying a large, department store box.
Thinking that she had been brought a gift, the young Baby-Pro brightened when the man entered the room.
"Do you want me to take that?" she asked.
"No, my dear, not now, at least," he answered.
There was little time for small talk because the Baby's uncle, Clarence, had trained her to the time limits of love; an hour was the accepted time for the fee received.
The customer slipped off his coat. Then, the girl obliging quickly, loosened the front buttons of the simple dress she wore. In a moment she hurried out of her clothing and waited for the man to join her. She watched as he took his time undressing. He disturbed her, for he seemed not at all taken by the nakedness she presented. Although he looked at her firm breasts and the smoothness of her thighs, he seemed not the least excited. She felt hurt and neglected. And when the man finally disbanded his undershorts and straightened, presenting his nudity, she felt that she was a failure, that her young naked body was not as alluring as she had been led to believe. The man was not the least excited, he remained liimp and unresponsive to her presence.
The man smiled and turned his back to loosen the bindings of the large box. From it, he withdrew what appeared to be a garment of leather, but which upon closer inspection proved to be nothing more than high, leather boots with spiked heels, those that snugged tightly to the thighs like a trout fisherman's boots.
'What in the world is that?" she asked. .
"Something for you," he said.
"For me?"
"Of course. For you to wear."
"Oh."
"You mean you've never done anything like this before?" he asked. "Never."
"What a shame."
"Why?" she asked. "Why is it a shame?"
He lifted and cradled the boots in his arm like a baby. "Because these leather boots are so very exciting, my dear."
She shrugged and shook her head, then said, "Well, buster-you'll have to show me."
"I intend to," he said.
He slowly explained that he wanted her to don the boots, that she was to wear nothing more than them and that from the sight of her in them he would become excited. Then, as if taken with some compulsion to explain, he told her that from the time he was a very young man, boots, and the leather of them upon a naked young body, had been his only path to sexual erection and the resulting act of intercourse.
Professionally, she accepted his explanation and that slowness must be part of this aphrodisiac act, she took the boots from his hand. Slowly, as she sensed placed one foot into the leather boot. Slowly, she drew the crinkly material over her calve, her knee, and up and over and to the very top of her thigh. She raised on the boot, unbalancing herself a bit as the high heel shot her several inches taller than her natural height.
The customer gasped his pleasure at the sight of her.
She pulled the draw strings tightly and the top of the leather boot pinched at her flesh as it fastened close, so close that the inside of the boot rubbed against the side-outline of her young womanhood.
The man gasped again, longer and more wheezing this time. He took a step closer and the girl could see that excitement was beginning to come to him. He had partially erected.
She slipped her other foot into the remaining boot and adjusted it as she had the first. Again, there was a wheeze of response from the man. This time when she viewed him she saw that he had erected fully. It seemed amazing and she felt somewhat confused.
Then he stepped closer. He smiled, then raised his hands and very gently kneaded her breasts. The girl has admitted that she liked the feeling, the duality of the leather boots snuggling close to her skin while the man's hands caressed her breasts.
It didn't last long. Suddenly, impatience seized the man and he hurried his little prostitute to the bed.
He practically threw her on her back, and just as quickly he hurried to kneel at the edge of the couch. For a moment the little Pro was fearful that Clarence had misjudged his customer, that this one was bent upon the taking of her in an act of sexual intercourse. But when the man raised a bit, grasped his manhood, then with the other hand forced the girl to a position that faced him in a way that allowed her breasts to bunch together, her mind was relieved. She knew that intercourse was not her lot this night. And she was right.
Slowly, the man pointed himself to a position between her breasts. He held himself with one hand and brought the other hand to touch at the high part of the leather boot. Then, working frantically from the very beginning, he thudded himself in the valley between her breasts while at the same time he smoothly caressed at the leather where it held her thigh.
The Baby-Pro was baffled and a bit anxious. She could not quite comprehend the act as anything that would bring vitality to his finish. But it did. Tremendously so. The man lashed himself back and forth between her breasts, achieving a fantastic pace. And all the time the other hand slowly and lovingly caressed her leather encased thigh.
The customer bellowed a cry of relief as he reached his end. Only then did his one hand quiet and release himself, only then did the other hand fall away from the leather that had given him manhood and manhood's right to sexual outlet.
CASE HISTORY
It was when he joined the Y.M.C.A. at the age of fifteen that Robbie began to realize that something was drastically different between himself and the other boys. Built small with narrow shoulders and frail bones, Robbie's penis was abnormally small. He was the brunt of many jokes, name-calling, and all manner of humiliations. He suffered them silently, but within him burned an anger that was never to be quieted during his lifetime.
At eighteen, Robbie made a date-the first he had ever had-with an unattractive girl who was a classmate in the senior class at the high school. After attending a show, Robbie parked his father's car beneath the cover of trees at a city park. Experimentally, he kissed the girl. It was the first he had ever known. The girl permitted it, largely because this date also marked her first venture in boy-girl relationships.
Robbie blazed with passion. He had heard of the wonders of kissing and touching and making love to girls. And when he sneaked his hand inside the girl's blouse and grasped her warm breast in his hand, he was sure that everything the other fellows said was true-that 'making out' with girls was the greatest thing going.
The girl became excited too and engaged her hand to Robbie's thigh, moving it investigatively, searching, fingers wandering as they sought his young manhood to grip and fondle. But she found nothing to meet her touch. Robbie did, however.
Becoming bold, he reached his hand to the girl's knee, then to her thigh, and then, when she hunched down in the seat and parted her legs, to that warm place of her thighs meeting. She shivered and wound her arms around his as he began a light, stabbing penetration of her body. And she breathed hard and uttered small sounds of pleasure as Robbie increased the speed of his jabbing finger. And then, suddenly, he moved his hand higher and found a plateau that he never suspected of being a part of a girl. He touched it. The girl reacted with a cry of passion. And then he circled upon it and she began to groan and moan and stutter new sounds of an ever rising, mounting, rapturous pleasure. But when she arched her body and seemed ready to bound upward through the roof of the car, Robbie stopped the action.
"Oh, don't stop," she pleaded. "Don't, don't, don't-what are you doing to me?"
"Come on-we got to do it the right way," he answered, shaking, but determined that he would know what others of his own age were already well experienced in doing.
The girl slouched lower in the seat and removed her panties. Then she hiked her dress high above her hips and waited as Robbie took a position close to her, then paused to fumble at the front of his trousers.
Finally, he was free. And he was moving downward to meet his virginal taking. He achieved it, too, even moved his hips back and forth in trip-hammer speed as the girl arched and thrust her body to meet him. But none of it was to any avail. His underdeveloped organ was beyond the ability to cause even the slightest feeling for the girl. And, shamefully, she did not hesitate to tell him so.
"Robbie? Robbie-are you-in?" she inquired anxiously.
"Yes."
"But I can't tell," she exclaimed.
"Sure you can. Try." He thrust with all his might against the girl's throbbing thighs. "There. How's that?"
"I can't tell anything," she sobbed. "Nothing, Robbie. Not a thing. Are you sure you're there?"
"I'm there all right," he panted. "I can tell-I can feel you."
He made several more movements, then anxiety and the premature ejaculation that is so common in the young converged upon him to cause his overflowing. He cried out and whimpered the sounds of all he felt. But for the girl, there was nothing. And again, she was not discreet in her criticism.
"You son-of-a-bitch," she yelled. "Goddamn you anyway. All that stuff and you get it and I don't-I don't because you're too goddamn small and shrunken-because you ain't no kind of boy at all. Now goddamn it, you get down here and do what you were doing to me before so I can get something out of this."
Embarrassed, to taken aback to speak, Robbie obediently returned his hand to her thigh, once again found that plateau of sensation and spun his finger upon it. But he was without enthusiasm for his masturbation of the girl. And his lack of enthusiasm must, it has been stated, have prevented her from the climax she desired. Instead, she knew only frustration as she was risen to a high point of feeling without achieving that mark that would release her and send her cascading downward in a swooping dive of thrill.
During the drive home, the girl, perhaps to work off some of the frustration she knew, verbalized Robbie's inadequacies. Inexperienced as she was, she seemed very worldly as she sat in the dark telling Robbie of his inefficient, miniature-size. And he thought he would die when she told him that she had seen other boys undressed, particularly her brothers-her young brothers, only in their teens-and that they were built like men, not midgets!
This experience was the last of its kind Robbie was to try until at the age of thirty he sexually engaged with a Baby-Pro and knew the gratification of a full sexual act with a girl who was much too professional to criticize the anatomy of the customer who paid for her services.
"The physically inadequate-the hunch backs, the malformed beings, the single limbed and grotesquely deformed-are the very special customers of the Baby-Pros," said a Criminal Court psychiatrist recently. "These men, shunned by mature women, find in an immature female their own opportunity for confidence and acceptance that they might never otherwise experience."