Chapter 6
Incest and the Baby-Pros
The relationship between the Baby-Pros to then-sponsors is unique in that it often combines the elements of both lover and parent-figure. Most of the young prostitutes working outside the jurisdiction of an organized syndicate, live with and are supervised by a procurer, or pimp. Often he is a relative. Almost always he is an adult male, well oriented in the realm of crime. And for the Baby-Pro, because of her young age, he is both her lover and a parent-type of figure.
"There is an incestuous quality to the relationship of a young prostitute and her pimp," claims Milton Albright, psychologist on the faculty of an Eastern college. "She is too young to be really on her own. So, the pimp takes her into his care and custody. He is most often her lover, too. Thus we have the situation of a young girl, living with a man who is representative of a father, and one with whom she cohabits. So, I truly believe that in any situation that finds a girl working as a prostitute under the supervision of a man, we have an atmosphere of incest about it. Many times it is the strongest force between the two principals."
The following cases, taken from the records of a Midwestern police department, review several cases where the relationship between the Baby-Pro and her pimp was incestuous, both by law and by blood.
CASE HISTORY
Carta and her brother Gino were born to the slums. Their parents, hard working but low-paid, illiterate, and confused by the country that they adopted as their own, had no time for their children.
Carta at thirteen, and her brother, three years her senior, were inseparable. Sometimes it seemed that thy alone stood against the harsh cruelty of poverty. They shifted for themselves from morning to night, they roamed the streets, they saw crime and became a part of crime by committing petty thefts from stores and occasionally taking part in the "rolling" of a stranger. But they never considered prostitution and pimp-hood as a means of an income until they came together sexually themselves. It happened late at night while their parents were engaged in low-income night occupations. The setting was the single bed room shared by all the family in the two room apartment of the tenement building where the family lived.
Always, there were the neon lights of the street blinking into the unshaded room to disturb the coming of sleep. Always there was this as a reminder of the slums, poverty, and the hopelessness of the poor, the hopelessness of young lives destined to mature in circumstances that could not change.
The army cots upon which Carta and her brother slept were placed only a few feet apart. Each could hear the breathing of the other. It was mid-summer and hot. Gino retired naked. Carta wore a cheap cloth nightie that ended high at her thighs.
After carrying on a short conversation they grew quiet. Then the silence was pierced by the uncanny scream of an ambulance and police cars as their sirens screeched as they passed on the street below the window. Carla gasped, then there was the sound of movement as she left her cot and curled on the foot of Gino's.
"They always scare me," Carla said. "Let me stay here a little while."
"Sure."
Again, quiet prevailed. Soon, Carla turned restlessly on the bed and lengthened, shooting her feet toward Gino's head. He stretched too. The sheet that partially covered him slipped to the floor. He made no move to conceal his nakedness which was revealed to Carla from time to time as the neon lights blinked. Carla's foot moved, then climbed over Gino's thigh to bump gently against his young manhood. It stimulated him to an immediate erection. She did not move her foot. Instead, her toes wiggled gently against him. And then Gino shifted his position and brought his bare foot further downward until he touched at the hot, smoothness of his sister's thighs. Then it moved between them and he, too, wiggled his toes, making an answer to her erotic call.
Their feet played against each other for a long time. Both were responsive and highly excited. Gino's masculinity grew stronger. His toes became more vigorous and ground to and within the femininity of his sister. And she curled and uncurled her toes about him and whacked her foot from side to side, bending and unbending him, making him harder and longer and more tremblingly aware of their love-play. Neither spoke. Only their exerted breathing filled the room, mixing with the sounds of the night that issued from the streets through their open window.
Very soon, a new screech of police car sirens pierced the night. Carla trembled violently, then shifted her position and cuddled close to her brother's side. His arms wound around her protectively. Their bodies pressed close. She felt the stretch of him pressuring against her thighs, her bare thighs for her nightie had crept high above her hips. And he felt her young breasts nestled against his bare chest.
When the sound of the sirens reached their highest pitch, Carta raised her face to her brother. He kissed her. Not inexperienced in the ways of women, for he had a year earlier bequeathed his virginity to a neighbor woman, Gino was nevertheless thrilled by the freshness of his sister's lips. And he loved her tongue which she shyly peeked into his mouth. And then his body shuddered for the excitement of her fingers as they moved between them and curled about his youthful strength. He did not receive without giving: He touched her breasts with one hand and brought the other hand to the delight of her thighs. She moaned He kissed her harder.
There love-play ended when Gino could no longer stand mere touches. He pulled away, then pushed against her shoulders, moving her to her side with her back and buttocks facing him. For some reason, psychiatrists claim, Gino did not wish to face his sister as he invoked upon her the lust of his incestuous love. Carta, apparently, wished the same. When she was settled on her side, she boosted her hips until they could feel the thrust of her brother.
Gino was careful in the rupture of his sister's body. One can wonder why he would be and must assume only that there was true love existing between them. Carefully, he adjusted her to him. He arched slightly, pulsating against the outline of her womanhood, then arched deeper, piercing her, going deep then stopping when he was jammed, as close as possible. He paused. Then he wound both arms around her body and gripped her breasts with his hands, feeling the beginning roundness of them, the small nipples that were beginning to bud, and the quiver they made as he held her. He bent his head and clamped his mouth to her neck. Then he began to move. So did Carla. They moved faster, then still faster, then with all their might, and the army cot shook until it threatened a breakdown. And Gino's mouth remained clamped to her neck and her hands shot to tighten his fingers against her breast. And then at last they had gone as far as their youth would permit. They erupted, Gino fully and strongly and in immense satisfaction; Carla more cautiously, but, nevertheless bursting the bubble that had been slowly inflated to capacity.
When it was over, Carla returned to her own cot. Neither of them mentioned what had occurred between them. They slept. The next day they roamed the streets as they always did in the summer. That night they again commingled sexually. And the next night it was the same and so was the next. They continued to treat the event as if it didn't happen. But at the end of the week as they walked in a section of the neighborhood where the adult prostitutes sold their goodies, Gino brought up the subject of improving their financial lot by means of prostitution. Carla, ingrained to her brother's leadership, did not object. They went into business.
For several months they used their own apartment as the setting for customers to meet the frail young body of Carla. But, as they grew more affluent, as Gino found more and more customers for his sister, they improved their environment by taking an apartment of their own several blocks away. The parents did not object when Gino explained that he had found a good paying job, that their quarters were crowded, that he and his sister would live apart from their parents.
Gino was a careful pimp. He interviewed the prospects with a diligence worthy of the F.B.I. And Carla proved to be a delightful Baby-Pro. Her middle-aged customers became repeaters.
Until arrest broke up their operation, Gino and Carla continued in a pattern that seldom varied. During the day and early evening Gino would solicit customers. Carla would service them that night. Then, around midnight, when the day's business was over, the brother and sister would engage in sexual relations. Their act was always spirited and frequently varied with deviations. And always, to them both, it seemed a necessity to "cleanse" them from the work that engaged them.
Prison terms that separated Carla and Gino did not prevent them from resuming their profitable Baby-Pro business upon their release. Neither did a new prison sentence. And when they faded from the notice of the police of their city, it was assumed that they merely moved their operation to another city.
CASE HISTORY
The application of Mr. and Mrs. Turner seemed perfectly in order and they were accepted as prospective foster-parents. They didn't have long to wait before they met their ward, fifteen year old Susan. The Turners had specified that they were especially interested in providing a home and their foster-parenthood to a girl of early teens who had a history of delinquency. They wanted to do their part for society-after all, it was a delinquent who was most in need of the sound home environment they could provide. The Foster Home Agency people were overjoyed-most people avoided delinquents, wanted only the "normal" children who were without parents.
Susan, at fifteen, was already hardened to the way in of the world. She had been a notorious truant from school, was under-achieving when she did attend school, was troublesome to authorities because of petty thefts and other misdemeanors, and in general was a trouble-maker. She was also promiscuous, and had been since about the age of twelve when she permitted several boys to have sexual intercourse with her as a bounding, very enthusiastic subject. Susan was a hostile, bitter child when she met the Turners for the first time.
Mr. and Mrs. T. fell in love with her on sight. She was ideal. She was built maturely with large breasts, gliding hips and long, sure legs. Her hair was blonde and she wore it to her shoulders. Her eyes were blue. She was a lovely child.
For a week, the Turners required nothing from Susan but her presence. They even waited on her quite a bit, treating her as if she were a visiting Princess. Susan loved it. And she even abused it a little, but her general attitude was that it was too good to last, that something was up. She waited.
The second week of her foster daughtership, during a time that found Susan alone in the house with Mr. Turner, she came from the shower, dressed in robe and nightie, prepared to go to bed. It was then that she encountered Mr. Turner in the hall, blocking her path.
"Where are you going, Susan?" he asked. "To bed-where do you think."
"You're snippy," he laughed. "Maybe," she said.
"Yes, you're snippy, all right, and it's a good thing that I like girls who have spirit."
"Why? Because you might kick me out of your house?" she asked.
"No, I'd never kick you out, Susan."
"Not much," she laughed. "No, really, I wouldn't."
"Then you're up to something," she said. "People who take a foster kid in always have something up their sleeve and you're no different."
"Oh, I admit I have something up my sleeve, all right," he said.
"What?"
"This."
Mr. Turner smiled, then reached one hand out and touched at the bulge her breast made against the material of the robe. He kneaded it slowly.
"I thought so," Susan said, looking directly into his eyes. "You want to make me."
"That's part of it," Mr. Turner said calmly.
"What's the other part?"
"Let's take care of the first part first," he said, leading her toward the bed room.
Susan followed the direction of his guiding hand without objection. She was much too worldly not to know what was to her advantage. Sexual intercourse with her foster-father was definitely to her advantage. If things got rough, or if there was something she wanted, she could always threaten disclosure to Mrs. T., Susan reasoned. It was good reasoning. Susan would have power, a valuable asset to a foster-child in the home of strangers.
When they arrived in the bed room, Mr. Turner immediately started to undress Susan.
"You don't have to do that," she said. "I can take care of it myself-I know what the score is."
"You certainly do," Mr. Turner said, stepping back and beginning to strip his own clothing from his body.
Naked, they faced each other. Susan looked into her foster-father's eyes, not paying a bit of attention to his nudity and the hard desire of him it exposed.
After a moment, she turned and moved to the bed.
Mr. Turner laughed again, then said, "You certainly do know the score-I'll say that for you, Susan."
"Come on-stop talking, let's get this show over with before your old lady comes home."
At this he laughed very hard, then said, "You're careful, too. That's very good."
"Christ but you talk a lot," she exclaimed. "Come on."
Mr. Turner did, but not as Susan expected. He walked to where she was on the bed. She started to push back to the bed's middle, but he detained her by gripping her hair.
"Hey, what's coming off anyway?" she shouted.
"Now it's your turn not to talk so damn much," Mr. Turner said, his voice turning gruff. He jerked her head forward at the same time that he arched his hips to her lowered face.
Fellatio was a new experience for Susan, but she was obedient to Mr. Turner's will and bounded her head to his taking in an enthusiastic manner. She even pretended excitement as she sensed that this would please her foster-father. Mr. Turner didn't need to pretend. He was greatly excited and thrust and arched in a mad whirl from where he stood before the bobbing girl. Only at the end did he release his hold upon her hair. And then it was to raise his arms over his head in a great effort at lengthening himself for the finale the girl had approached.
Susan sputtered as she finished. Then she raised her head and looked coolly at her foster-father. Then she hurriedly exited to the bath room, as did Mr. Turner when she had finished there. Then they sat down to talk about the future.
Even the sophisticated Susan was surprised to learn that Mr. and Mrs. Turner operated a ring of prostitution which was Baby-Pro centered. They had carefully concealed their operation by living respectable lives, paying their bills, owning a small business which "fronted" for the real means of income, and even being active in certain civic affairs. They were in the process of recruiting new Baby-Pros, they wanted Susan to join their operation. If successful, other members of the ring would turn to foster-parenthood of delinquents as a means of securing new talent for the prostitution ring.
When Mr. Turner finished his story, Susan laughed and laughed. It seemed the best joke ever that foster-parents should be Madame and pimp all rolled into one. It seemed the very best kind of revenge upon the society that Susan hated. She accepted Mr. Turner's proposal at once.
During the period that Susan operated as a Baby-Pro under the state sanctioned guardianship of Mr. and Mrs. Turner, Susan continued to cohabit regularly with Mr. Turner, then, after several months when she learned that Mrs. Turner was a lesbian, the fifteen year old girl turned to a bi-sexual relationship with both her foster-parents.
CASE HISTORY
The Sanity Commission which deliberated Charlie Y's ability to understand the charges against him when he was arraigned on a charge of procuring, agreed on one point: Charlie very definitely had an eye on his fourteen year old prospective step-daughter when he married her mother.
Charlie was married to Mrs. Y., a widow with three children, less than a month, when he started to pay attention to Louise, his step-daughter. He contrived to come into her room at night, to bump into her when she left the shower, to brush his arm against her breast and even playfully touch her at every opportunity. Louise: didn't mind at all. She thought it was "cute." Obsessed with boys, Louise welcomed the sexual attentions of any man, even her step-father.
Charlie worked as a mechanic in a garage. He hated it. But, with a limited education and a police record, which he had, little more could be anticipated for his life. Mrs. Y. was in similar circumstances; her social security insurance was inadequate to raise her family, she was a poor manager, and she was without qualifications for a job. Hopefully, she married Charlie, anticipating that in some incredible way two minuses might add up to a positive.
The first time Louise really flirted with her stepfather was the occasion of them coming together in a blazing display of incestuous sex.
They were together in the barn at the end of the three acre lot that was left Mrs. Y, by her late husband. Mrs. Y. was in town shopping. Louise's two brothers were occupied at a neighbor's home. Louise was propped on a rail watching him.
Her appearance in the barn was not entirely innocent. Louise, fascinated by the interest her stepfather showed in her, planned to entertain herself by flirting with him a bit. So, she sat on a rail with her thin skirt pulled high above her knees and her young breasts budding out from the low bodice of her cheap dress. She chatted. She laughed a lot. And she made the most of every opportunity to twist and turn and show off her body.
Charlie wasn't even a little discreet when he decided that he was to sexually know his step-daughter. He walked over to the little teenager, jerked her down from the railing, then carried her to the concealment of a stall that was filled with hay. She kicked as he carried her, but Charlie merely laughed. Then he dumped her into the hay and lowered his body atop her. Louise twisted. Charlie permitted it until she was on her stomach, then he hoisted her dress and forced her to a kneeling position. He hesitated a moment, then forced himself to her.
Her body quieted when Charlie entered her. She made no further move to get away. Then she moved to the rhythm that Charlie created from his knees where he lunged and withdrew from his step-daughter, pressured close and moved back, pounded hard, to and fro, faster and faster while his hands pinched at her skin, moved to her front where they tore at her dress until he gripped the flesh of her downward hanging breasts.
Charlie took her like an animal. Never delicate when it came to sex, Charlie ravaged her body. But he did her no harm. Louise had been ravaged before by the boys of her school. And, she liked the idea that she now had a hold upon her step-father, something that could be used if it was ever needed.
When Charlie separated his body from hers, Louise pretended anger and threatened to tell her mother.
Charlie just laughed. He knew that she wouldn't.
The very next Saturday night, Charlie procured for his step-daughter, and without her knowledge, her first paying customer. Drunk in town, Charlie promised his daughter to a traveling man for a ten dollar bill. He got in his old car, found an excuse for Louise to come with him to town, then turned her over to the man where he was staying at the town's only motel.
Louise was indignant. She yelped and hollered and stormed and said she was going to tell the police, her mother, the entire community. Charlie just laughed, then told her that she wouldn't, that he could have her put in a reform school because of the sex he knew she had with boys. Then he told her that if she cooperated he'd split the fee with her-give her five dollars for her very own use. Louise sparked interest. She went into the motel and serviced the stranger her step-father had arranged for her to meet. It was the beginning of a rather casual step-father, step-daughter establishment for prostitution.
CASE HISTORY
The following psychotherapeutically recreated dialogue reveals a fourteen year old girl's indoctrination into prostitution by her uncle.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Uncle Frank," Gilda R. said, her eyes going wide in wonder.
"Oh, I think you do," the uncle replied.
"But I don't."
"All right, let's consider it from this angle," he said. "You date boys a lot. I've always let you. Now, if you used your head you could make those dates pay off for you-for you and me."
Gilda's eyes, still round and curious, looked up at him then lowered to the floor. She made no remark.
"I happen to know that you let your boy friends do almost anything they want with you," Uncle Frank . continued. "So, what's so difficult about the same thing with people-men-I arrange for you."
Now she looked directly at him and there was fire in her eyes. "You mean you want me to become a whore, is that it."
"You don't have to be quite so crude about it."
"But that's it, isn't it."
"Yes, and for a damn good reason," Frank said, "Ever since your folks died and you came to live with me, we've had a hell of a struggle. All right-we can have it easier, a lot easier and with money for you to do whatever you want. So, be honest, what do you let your dates do with you anyway?"
"They kiss me. And I kiss them too."
"What else?"
"Sometimes they touch me."
"And you touch them too, don't you," he said.
"Sometimes," she answered, her voice raising a bit.
"So, you play with them-they play with you-so for Crissakes, let's make it pay off, only not with kids-with men who can pay for it."
Gilda, who had lived with her uncle since her parents death when she was nine, was not convinced at once. But, there was a bond between her uncle and herself that served as a motivating factor toward her emergence as a Baby-Pro. If it had not been for her uncle, Gilda would have been sent to an orphanage. She was always grateful for this. And there was another bond between them, too, one that Gilda was perhaps not consciously aware. Gilda had had strong Electra Complex ties to her father. When he was killed, her subconscious was shattered until her emotions sighted upon her Uncle Frank as the heir of her father-fixation.
Gilda was not a virgin. Her uncle sensed this. Several days after he initiated the prostitution-centered conversation, he entered her bed room late at night when she was sleeping.
She stirred in her sleep as he carefully climbed into the bed next to her. Then she twisted and faced him. The thin nightie that she wore bulged open at the breast, showing her flesh and revealing nipples that had hardened in sleep, that were pointing straight and exposed. And when Frank pulled the sheet completely away from her young body, he saw that her nightie was knotted at her waist, that her bare legs were positioned like those of a runner.
Frank reached out and touched Gilda's breast. It was warm. The nipple was flaming. Her eyes opened and she gasped as if she were seeing an image from a dream. And she started to scurry to the side of the bed, but Frank caught her roughly by the shoulders and pressured her to her back.
"You bastard," she exclaimed.
"You don't mean that," he said, smiling.
And indeed she did not.
When Frank pressured his hand between her thighs, they held firmly for a moment, then parted. And then as he touched at that secret place of her youth, she relaxed her body and moaned.
The sound was one that thrilled Frank. It told of responsiveness and passion, it told him that his niece would soon be pursuing a career that would bring them both profit.
And if doubts still remained as he braced himself above her then descended to the piercing of her young womanhood, they vanished at the very end when she jabbered out her cry of climax.
"Yes, yes, yes," she yelled. "Don't stop-Don't-Don't let it end, not ever-never-please-Ohhhhhhh. OHH! AHHHHHHHHH, here it is-now-I'm GONE!"
And she was-to a life of prostitution, a Baby-Pro existence until she and her uncle were arrested when Gilda was still only sixteen.