Chapter 1

The body of the man, with all its soft, flabby bulk, pressed upon Toni She could see his eyes glowing. She backed up and was stopped by falling against a tree. The hands were at her breasts as the voice whined piteously and the heavy body, heavier still with the acrid odor of booze, moved closer again.

"Be nice, baby!" mumbled the voice in the dark. "Be nice to Big Benny! It's been a long time...."

Toni wished she could scream, wished she could slash out at that bloated face with her nails. But her pert, tight young body was a helpless mass against the onslaught, against the searching, feverish hands.

"I was watching you on, the bus, honey. I know why you got off here in Hoboken. You ain't goin' to Hoboken. You got off before New York 'cause you knew Big Benny was watchin' ya'. And you knew I'd get off too, right? 'Cause you want Big Benny to fuck ya', right? Well get a hotel room and.. . "

The big, fat penis sprung out of his soiled pants. "Here, feel this. Look what Big Benny's got for that little twat of yours. This here salami is why they call me Big Benny. What the hell you look so scared for? You was givin' me those fuck-eyes of yours on the bus, wasn't ya'? "

"No. I got off the bus because you was watching me!" Toni gulped out the words.

A New Jersey State Trooper car pulled up to the curb, lights flashing. A flashlight shone on the big tree.

"You all right, Miss?"

In an instant the big crummy-looking man was gone.

Toni had come to New York to escape from what her father and mother had become-a pair of sex maniacs at age forty.

She could still remember-as if it were yesterday-how she had unexpectedly returned from high school and caught them, her father's massive prick firmly embedded in a neighbor-woman's sopping cunt while her mother beat him with a stiff riding crop. What Toni, at nineteen-years-of-age, couldn't figure out was why the memory both delighted and haunted her.

Now, here she was, a hick of a girl from the Midwest, with little money and no job, a wide-eyed virgin living in a flea-trap hotel in New York. In fact, the hotel was more of a brothel than anything else. There were hookers in almost every room, and the whole establishment was catered by a madame of huge proportions.

Then out in the hallways one morning, a towel over her arm, she was introduced to the busty madame of the hotel. Toni suspected that it had all been arranged, the old desk clerk "just happening" to be up on the third floor, and the madame "just happening" to be down from her nest of rooms on the fifth floor.

"Talk, you two. Maybe...just maybe you can help each other. This is a tough city to make it in by yourself," the old desk clerk said, blowing his nose. "I'll leave you alone...go ahead...talk."

They went back into Toni's room, and shortly they were talking like old friends and Toni was learning about all the perversions known to mankind, how much they were willing to pay for them, and that most of the girls under the madame's wing had good educations and were from good families.

"So why do they need to be prostitutes?"

"It's a compulsion, deary," the woman had explained. "Either they're keeping a lover-usually another girl-or they hate men and this is one way to make them pay. Some of them just want to get back at their families-even though the families rarely know about it."

Toni suddenly realized what category she fit into. Every time she thought of her father and mother, she had to close her eyes and rake her mind clean of the ugly scene.

"Oh, there are hundreds of reasons," the madame went on, "but I don't bother myself with them any more. I just know I have to have nice clean college types on call at all times."

"Why?" Toni stroked at her blonde hair, intensely interested in the bizarre conversation. There was a strange warmth in the pit of her stomach, and a not unpleasant ache in the depths of her crotch. She was familiar with the feeling-it had always made itself known whenever the other kids in high school talked about sex. But the other girls did something about it. Toni didn't. Petting in drive-in movies was about the limit of her experience, and that, among other things, had earned her a reputation of "a righteous square."

"Well, deary, I'll tell you. My clientele is high class, famous people or big businessmen. When I send a girl out, she's got to be able to talk intelligently, have good manners, be the kind of girl the client would never have to apologize for if he's seen with her. A girl like you, with class. My gals aren't just whores, Toni. Never mind what the lousy hotel looks like. They get a hundred bucks for a whole night's entertainment: they go to good restaurants, dancing at smart nightclubs. They've got to know how to really entertain a man in and out of bed-and know what to do with a stiff cock. At a hundred clams a night, who wants to be a typist or secretary at a lousy seventy-five a week? It's dumb! You're not dumb, are you deary? And my girls are clean! No clap...I send them to the doctor once a month for a checkup. All I need is for one of my customers to get a dose from one of my girls, and then we all get hell from the fuzz. I've got a reputation to uphold! You clean?"

"I'm...clean," Toni said, and almost added and untouched by human hands, but thought she'd better not. She was almost resigned to her fate already.

"Good. I'll send you along with one of my girls to learn the ropes. You just watch her with a couple of tricks. You'll learn good! Then you can forget about money problems."

Although she didn't fully realize it then, Toni was going to learn about life from the inside-the sordid, the perverted, the coarse, the vulgar, the pitiful, the cruel...and the beautiful. She had come to New York to learn about life, and she was about to get it with full impact.

The madame's selection of an instructress and a first trick to watch was unfortunate. Or perhaps it was the madame's method of "kill it or cure it" for new girls. A steady customer named Gino was sent down to Toni's room, along with a big-busted young redhead.

Gino didn't waste a second after he said he didn't care if Toni watched or not. He unbuttoned the redhead's bathrobe and began sucking her nipples while they still stood in the middle of Toni's grubby little room. He pulled on the redhead's nips until they came out full, then raked them with the surface of his tongue until she was breathing uncontrollably. He groped for his zipper. Toni just sat there in an old chair, trembling with fear. He pulled out his cock, hard and red and big. The redhead let him push her to the bed, expecting him to shove in his big prick and give her the hard ride right off. He didn't. He said, "Not yet. I want you to suck yourself first. Seeing a woman do that sends me off the roof!"

The redhead smiled. "So I gotta be a contortionist for him, Toni. jDon't let it bother you, kid. We get all types."

"Not your cunt, dumb-dumb!" he said, laughing "Your tits. You got big boobies, oughta be able to get one of them in your mouth easy."

Toni couldn't take her eyes off his big cock, as it bobbed up and down like a flagpole. "C'mon," he said. "Suck one of your tits first; that'll make me hotter. I'm a good lay-ask any of the girls."

The redhead complied with Gino's request, taking one of her breasts and pushing it upward toward her mouth. With some effort she was able to get the nipple past her lips, into her young red mouth.

She began sucking on it, and Toni felt sorry for the girl. She must feel a little stupid, Toni thought-but at the same time felt that ache in her own pussy again.

While the girl sucked her breast, Gino played with his prick. As he watched, his eyes filled with lust, shining darkly, a stupid grin on his face and his fingers full of his own flesh. The redhead had to finally stop sucking her own tittie because her mouth and chin ached. Then she lay back on the bed and practically begged Gino to fuck her. "Put it in me!" she cried, acting out the role. "Screw me, baby! That's why we're here!"

At that moment Toni was wondering if someday some customer would ask her to put a whip to him-as her mother had to her father.

Gino laughed, a funny sort of laugh. He waved his big meat at the redhead, moving it ll in a circular motion. "Sure, you'll get it, baby. Really need it, eh? You're a funny whore, know that?"

Toni felt damp shame when Gino said that, and wanted to crawl away and hide somewhere. She wondered if Sharon felt the same.

"You have to suck it first," Gino said, smiling with big white teeth.

Sharon moaned softly as Gino placed one of his hands on the back of her head and brushed the purple head of his cock across her trembling lips. Sharon didn't resist when he pushed the wet, rubbery knob into her mouth. Toni had spit in her mouth, and she wondered how that tasted. Clean and slick and salty, she guessed, and found her own hand holding tight at her crotch.

Sharon began running her tongue all over the head, munching the entire knob with her lips and clamping her teeth ever so lightly about the crown. Taking the shaft of it in hand, Sharon began to slide herself up and down over it, and Toni could see the tight skin grow heated against Sharon's tongue. Then the redhead reached underneath her chin and began massaging his big, full testicles. The technique worked almost at once.

Gino grabbed her head with both hands and tried to ram it all down her throat, but Sharon clamped her teeth around his shaft and prevented him from chocking her. Rapidly she worked her palms over the sides of the organ, rolling the cylinder between her hands, extracting from it the very ultimate it could give. He gave it to her, a giant blob that washed over her tongue and rolled down Sharon's throat. And although Toni could hardly believe it, it was easy to see that Sharon was having an orgasm herself, and she continued to suck on Gino's cock, pulling the head as hard as she could, getting every drop, and causing him to become more erect.

It was the first time in her young life that Toni had seen come. She had no way of knowing at the time how important that creamy white substance would become in her life, just a few months later.

Gino lay down on the floor, his shaft as tall and straight as an iron pole. Sharon cried out in fake passion as she roughly rammed herself with it, moving her hips down hard, wriggling the head of Gino's cock against her cervix.

Waves of lust rolled within Toni's brain, and. she had to hold her hands tight to keep from diddling herself. She watched them fuck in that position for a long time, but Gino wasn't so quick this time. Then he put his hands on Sharon's hips and lifted her off his stiff muscle. Keeping a hand on her perspiring ass, he crawled out from under her.

"Stay by the bed, girl," he said. "Get on your knees and lean over it. I wanna do it to you from behind!"

Sharon got into position and Gino got behind her. Toni waited and watched, wide-eyed, drawn up tense.

Gino shoved, all in one motion--Woooooshhhh! "Right up to the balls," Gino croaked when Sharon begged him to give her more.

Toni could almost feel the big Italian's stuff shoot into her own insides, and her stomach turned insane with the sheer pleasure of the thought. Then Gino pulled the limp thing out of Sharon.

Sharon got up, obviously thinking the trick was over. "No!" Gino said. "Don't wipe it off; I'm going to eat you and I like it good and soupy."

Sharon smiled again and got on the bed, spreading her legs. Gino quickly went to work, getting between her thighs and.. .

When Gino was dressed, he turned to Toni, who was still sitting in a stupor. "How do you like the way I fuck, girl?"

"Huh? Oh...fine. Fine."

"Listen, I been watching you. You ain't a whore. You look like a nice kid."

"Now he's gonna give you that 'what's a nice girl like you doin' in a place like this' bit, Toni," Sharon said, sitting up. "Lay off the kid, Gino. It's her first trick."

"Listen," Gino said, "I work right next-door, across that alley by your window. Moore Cosmetics. If you decide you want no part of this meatloaf operation, come over and see me. Name is Gino Lentini. We need a girl in the office...can you type?"

"And take dictation, too," Toni said, coming to life.

"Don't pay much, but then you won't get your ass-hole buggered all night by slobs like me, either."

"Will you leave her alone, Gino?" Sharon said. "Just pay your money and leave the help be. Well see you next week for your usual visit"

"No, I'm serious, Sharon. Wouldn't you like to save this kid from what you have to put up with?"

"I'm not looking to save anybody from anything. All I'm trying to do is save my own ass. Now get out."

Toni got up and walked to the window, looking into the offices across the way. "One thing nobody thought to ask me," she said, still not looking at their faces. "I'm a virgin."

"What!" Sharon slapped her forehead and fell back on the bed.

Toni just stood there, and never felt so stupid in her life.

"There! You see!" Gino said. "Look, kid, you think this over good before these people throw you to the wolves. I'll talk to Wendy Moore...she owns the place where I work. I'll bet she hires you in a minute. Gee, you could walk right next-door to work. Think about it. Look, here's one of the company cards. Come see me if you're interested. I gotta get back to work before Miss Moore starts looking for me. S'long girls."

Sharon told the madame what had happened and the two of them rushed back to Toni's room and talked to her for an hour.

"A nineteen-year-old virgin in New York! I can't believe it! You're putting me on, right, girl?" the older woman asked. Toni assured her she was not.

"Listen, Toni girl, that cherry of yours is worth money, and money is what you need right now, right?"

Toni had to agree.

"I know a guy that will pay a grand to pop a cherry. His name is Angelo Mantelli, pretty high up in the Mafiosa, but you don't have to worry none about that. He's a dirty old man, gets his jollies over young girls. Let him pop your cherry and you've got yourself five hundred bucks for a few hours' work. Then you can decide for yourself if you want to stay in the business. At least you won't be broke."

"Five hundred?" Toni said. "I thought you said he'd pay a thousand."

"Fifty-fifty split. I've got expenses, too, you know. Yes or no?"

Toni's answer, after a long and painful moment of silence, was a tiny, trembling, and self-conscious, "Y-yes."

Angelo Mantelli looked Toni over carefully. His smooth lips slid themselves into a pleased, if pompous, grin. He remembered the thirteen-year-old cherry he had popped the month before, a golden-haired child brought to him by her mother. It cost him five hundred, but it had been worth every penny. But this was no child! This was a full-grown woman-virgin!

He pictured a squeezed-up oozy slit under pink panties. Her legs were long and the skirt was short and the whole squashy promise had fresh saliva sprinkling itself inside his mouth. A tingle of newfound warmth swept its way into his sleeping cock. She was everything Rosy had said she was, and she had traveled from her downtown hotel to his Central Park West apartment just to please him.

"Rosy said.. . " Toni began.

"Yeah, yeah. We'll talk business later. No problem with money. Your old bitch madame knows there's never any trouble with me about money, ask her. I pay for what I get. Now, let's see what you've got."

"I'll try to please," Toni answered.

"Good. So? Please then. I guess Rosy told you who I am."

"Yes...and I am impressed, Mister Mantelli."

"Hah! You've got class and an education. I like that. You like how I live?" he blew his cigar smoke up toward the ceiling.

"It's...gorgeous. I didn't realize there were apartments like this in New York. Except in the movies.. . "

"Class, baby. You like class? Only way to go." His eyes roamed downward again over her pert breasts. A soft suckling image of a hard red nipple snaked its way through his mind. "The bedroom is over there. Go in and make yourself comfortable. Pour yourself a drink. There's a mini-bar by the bed. I'll be in after I make a couple of phone calls."

Toni stood, her mouth open, at the bedroom door, unable to believe the enormous luxury of it all. A big circular bed with a Spanish wood headboard sat quietly and meticulously made in the center of the room.

Naked in moments, she lay and waited for him. She lay back on the pink pillow and inhaled the brisk air that floated in the open window, riding on an early May breeze that came in over the park. She looked down at her bare thighs...soft, white...and trembling slightly. She reached for her huge handbag, took out a perfume sprayer, opened her legs and felt its breezy spray penetrate just behind the lips of her cunt. She nectared her mouth with a Cloret that stung her tongue, then concentrated on warming her breasts from within. Her body blended into the huge, soft bed. the cold sheets hugging up at her warm, soft ass. She touched the perfume to the undersides of her breasts, and stroked her cunt hair once or twice, determined now. If she was going to be a whore, she was going to be a good one.

Angelo Mantelli, fifty-ish and gray at the temples, stood in the doorway, a hungry frenzy breaking its way out of his smile. A crazed look crept across his Florida-tanned features and a new dark sparkle came alive in his eyes. He sat on the bed beside her, eyeing the sucking-bulbs of meaty breasts, letting his manicured hand lay lightly on the fur of hair between her legs.

It grew moist under the gentle weight of his palm, and Toni tried to smile. He leaned forward and his smooth tongue slid over each hard nipple, savoring his first swallowing taste of her young body. She groaned and he retreated to a gentle nibble of the tip, fervent heat suddenly coming through his suntan at the temples. The taste of a virgin set free a million goose bumps on his arms and shoulders, and he seemed to be having trouble breathing.

He swirled his tongue upward over the on-fire mounds, exploring, in mouthfuls, licking a flame-path to her neck. She rolled over toward him, feeling his hot cock against her, throbbing inside his pajama bottoms. Her body was warm to the front, against him, and the cool evening breeze from the open window played at her spine, a fresh, clean combination that met somewhere in the dark of Toni's insides, icy-hot. She inhaled deeply and her stomach sank shallow with it.

The telephone in the living room rang and Angelo Mantelli granted himself the satisfaction of a loud, crisp obscenity before pulling himself away from her and going to answer it. Toni caught a glimpse of hundred-dollar bills sticking out of his bathrobe pocket as he walked away from the bed.

Toni thought she heard a groan from the living room, but she paid little attention, looking at her image in the ceiling mirror instead.

Her eyes were like two little ball bearings...and sad, very sad.

Yes, she'd be a whore in just a few moments.

Another groan came from the living room and this time she listened. Then she got up and went to the door and saw it. Angelo Mantelli was on his knees beside the phone. His eyes had lost their brightness. His fat fist was clenched over his heart.

"Omigod!" Toni heard her own voice yell.

Angelo rocked back and forth, groaning dismally, clutching his chest.

"H...help me...." Angelo begged, biting back the trembling of his mouth. "My...heart...it...the pills are over there...."

Then, all at once, the night was rudely shattered by the appalling, sustained scream of sheer mortal terror.

Maybe minutes passed. Maybe an hour. But Angelo was motionless through all of it. His eyes were open and glazed. Everything was so still...devastatingly still.

But Toni wasn't afraid. Strangely...she wasn't afraid. She looked again at Angelo's pale face. She thought of putting a pillow under his head, but what good would that do? The man was dead.

She slowly and carefully dressed. She reached into his bathrobe pocket and withdrew the wad of hundred-dollar bills. There were fifteen of them.

Then she quietly and evenly walked out of the apartment, pushed the elevator button and waited. She counted to twenty-four before the doors opened. Then she descended, walked business-like past the doorman and even smiled at the "good night, Ma'am," that was offered.

Toni didn't go back to her hotel room. The next day she bought a five-hundred-dollar wardrobe, rented an apartment, had her hair done, then went to the offices of Wendy Moore Cosmetics.

"What's she like? Miss Moore, I mean," she asked Gino Lentini.

"Wendy Moore? She's a nutty broad. You'll have to put up with her crazy ideas. But she'll hire you, don't worry. She has to fill the job before she takes off on her selling trip next week."