Chapter 8
Everything seemed to be going great. The money was good and they had a nice place to stay. The had made some new friends and ran into some ol one's. There was always plenty of grass to smoke and whiskey to drink. And the best thing of all i that they enjoyed their work.
Living on the top floor of a whorehouse had its advantages, too. It was a sexy place to be and the girls were all very nice. All of them except for older woman named Joanie.
She was the only person who ever gave Suzy and Damballah a hard time. She sneered and hissed at them. Maybe it was professional jealousy, but who knows? She was just plain rude and let it be known that she didn't like them living above her work place.
She resented the money they made in a single Saturday night. She had to fuck all week to make just a bit more than that and she resented the fact that they sat around all week smoking pot or going to bars. Her life was a nightmare-why should their's be so damn rosy?
And she didn't like their asthetics. Joanie didn't like their wild S & M shannanigans. She thought it was just too degrading. Of course the life of being a whore for twenty five bucks a throw wasn't exactly dignified, either. Joanie knew it and she hated it like sin.
She had a fairly reasonable childhood-no broken family or alcoholic dad, but she always seemed to have troubles adjusting and getting along with her peers. She felt so damn superior.
At fifteen she had ran away with her boyfriend, a twenty year old hoodlum from Kalamazoo, Michigan who wound up in the slammer for armed robbery.
She had been disowned by her middle class family and was not invited back to her home. She started walking the streets.
Working for Madam Maria was a lot better than cruising old town for Johns but she was still pretty pissed that she had forsaken her high school diploma and a possible college career. There was no turning back and hooking was all that she knew.
She looked at the other girls and saw herself: stupid girls locked into selling themselves, no motivation to find honest work and no lifestyle to be proud of. Her only friends were whores and pimps and she had and enough.
Understandably she wasn't too popular around Madam Maria's House of Pleasure. Madam Maria would have fired her too, sent her packing her bags except that JOANIE was there as a favor The Madam owed to a pimp friend and it was a favor she intended to hold up. Joanie was damn lucky for that because she could have been black listed from hooking in Chicago. AND nobody liked free agents.
All this added up to a double bind situation. Joanie could be surly and know she wouldn't get fired, but then again Madam Maria could give her a rough deal and not have to worry about anything except maybe some lip service. Joanie was there for the duration.
But she was getting to the point of really pissing everyone off. She was rude it clients, inexcusable behavior in a business that thrived on regular customers, and she was rude to the other girls ad that was bad for morale. It was time she was taught a lesson and Maria knew just who to hire.
Suzy and Damballah owed the Madam a favor besides the rent money they were paying. It was damn nice of her to take them in and give them such a fine flat at such a swell rate.
One day, after a run in with Joanie that turned into a screaming match, Madam Maria decided it was best to keep her voice down and vent her spleen with a little discipline at the hands of the S & M act known as Brutal Degradation.
"Make her beg for mercy," Madam Maria, told the girls, "Don't mark her up too much but make it hurt like hell." She smiled. "I know I can count on you girls."
All they needed was a plan of action.
It was late one evening, round about 4 am and the girls were having a little party after a good day of fuucking and sucking for money. Everyone was in on the plan to teaching the bitch a lesson and they could barely keep a straight face as they passed her joints.
Joanie was going to learn her lesson and she was going to learn it well.
She took the joints that were handed to her and hogged them and was making a drunken idiot out of herself with everyone's booze. She was a fucking freeloader and it made them all sick.
"Hey baby," Joanie would start in, "Why dontcha gimme a hit uh that, ay?"
Hilary had had enough.
"Why dontcha get some of your own, baby. I'm tired of your shit, always taking, taking, taking. Fuck you, man, coz I've had enough of your shit and if it weren't for Maria owing your old pimp a favor your ass would be dried up in some stoop on the Southside panhandling to buy some junk."
"I'm sick uh you fuckin' whores comin" on all high and mighty like," rebutted and now everyone was listening and they were eager to put the bitch in her place.
It was only another moment before she was surrounded by unfriendly faces and she realized she was in trouble. They were grinning sadistically.
"UHHHHHHH!!!!"
She caught a fist in the gut and she doubled over out of breath.
"What's the idea?"
"The idea is that bad girls get punished."
The next thing Joanie knew her hands were cuffed behind her back. Damballah had slapped on the handcuffs and was none too gentle about it, either.
"Fuckin' scumbag whores. You're all shit."
That bought her a slap across the face and she would have hit the ground but one of the girls caught her and shoved her into the crowd.
They pushed her back and forth among them selves, each person ripping off some of her clothes and shoving her back into the circle.
Pretty soon her clothes were rags on the floor and Joanie had made the smart decision to humble herself and keep her mouth shut.
Suzy knocked her to her knees and jammed a bar between her arms and her back. That not only hurt, but it kept her off balance and she couldn't get up.
"Brutal degradation," one girl said and the others agreed. ALL eyes were on Damballah and Suzy, masters of pain and punishment. They just smiled and got ready to do business. Suzy reached into her trunk and found a candle holder. It was a cheap wood thing but it worked well enough, holding three candles breast high for a woman on her knees. She had made it just yesterday for part of the act. The orange tongue of flames was very erotic.
Damballah lit the candles with her disposable lighter and the glow lit up her face. She put it about six inches in front of Joanie. Her face turned white with fear. She could already feel the heat of the candles on her nipples and they were starting to get hard.
Damballah pushed them an inch closer to her and it was getting hotter on her white flesh.
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!!!"
"Shut up. It's time you learned a lesson."
"Maria isn't gonna like this, man. You know she likes her girls to get along."
"So you know that, do you?" Damballah pushed the flames closer.
"Man you're gonna burn me!!"
Their were a few laughs from the room and Damballah pushed the candles closer.
The wax was dripping onto the base and the candles were getting just a bit shorter. Joanie tried to pull away from them but she got a knee in the back and she couldn't move, not with her hand bound like that.
The candles were just about the right length to burn under her tits now and Damballah smiled wanly before pushing them forward.
Joanie's face was pale white and she was sweating. The heart glowed on her nipples and they felt warm, not only from the flames but from the blood rushing into her nipples.
She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate so as not to feel to much pain.
IT wasn't working. For a moment there it seemed like she might be able to stand it but as the second ticked by the heat was becoming more intense.
"PLEASSSSEE!!!!" She finally screamed. The hear was burning her nipples. "I'll do anything ... PLEASE!!!! MOVE THESES THINGS!!!"
Someone grabbed her hair from behind and Joanie's neck snapped back. Her tits were still over the candles.
She was sweating and was beginning to feel nauseous. Her tits felt like they were fire and she couldn't move. There was a tear in her eye and the girls were laughing and hooting and hollering.
The humiliation was as painful as the fire on her tits. She was being made an example of and she was paying the price for being a dissonant personality.
She begged for mercy and was making all sorts of panicked promises about being nice to everybody from now on. No one was buying it and the candles continued to burn.
Her nipples were turning an ugly shade of red and Damballah caught the first whiff of burning flesh. Joanie was sobbing in silence, biting her lower lip.
Damballah blew out the candles and Joanie started to cry out loud. "SHUT UP!!!!"
Suzy slapped her across the face.
"You're goddam lucky we didn't let 'em burn. "
Joanie looks like a mess, on her knees with her hands bound behind her back, her eyes puffy from crying and the slightest blisters appearing on her nipples.
Suzy slapped her again. Joanie's face was beet red and she whimpered as she got hit.
Damballah picked up the candle holder and pushed the gooey wax onto Joanie's breasts. It dripped off of the base and clung to her tits. It felt creepy as all hell on her over sensitive singed nipples and she felt like crying some more but she was already sobbing and that would have to do.
The other girls wee laughing as the wax dribbled over her nipples and hardened around them. They could imagine it must have felt foreign and weird, oddly constricting and generally disgusting.
Joanie closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. She had been made a spectacle of, humiliated in front of her peers and it was no one's fault but her own. For the first time in ten years she felt like going to church.
They unbound her hands and she fell on her back. She felt like a piece of dog shit under someone's shoe and she picked the wax off of her tits as everyone laughed.
As soon as she was on her feet she caught a spiked heel in the ass and got kicked out of the room. She went off with her tail between her legs, cussing and crying and planning on revenge, but knowing full well she had better be o her best behavior around the ol' House of Pleasure.
The reviews of the Brutal Degradation show were coming back now and everything looked as positive as it did the first night.
The smut magazines all gave it space and the critics were in agreement: it was the best S & M show ever to come through Chicago and it was highly recommended. The nicest review they received though was in a tabloids called The Grind. It was head and shoulders above the rest of the crappy smut-zines not only in the quality of writing but in their outlook on smut.
They were always pushing First Amendment Absolutism and publishing stories that bordered on the libelous while they hid behind the sanctity of the Fourth Estate. The entire staff were college graduates and they strived to make their magazine more readable than the usual shitty prose that accompanied sleazy fuck pictures.
The review was written by their editor, one Herschel Bernstein. It was called "The Start of the Art of Pain."
Rarely do high quality sex shows even bother to stop in our fare metropolis, the floozies and junkies that usually are the stars vying to make their bucks in New York or California. And even when that do stop by, it's bound to be some run of the mill burlesque or two sickos getting it on and not giving a damn about the paying customers.
I'm happy to say that Chicago has finally been paid its due in the form of a show called Brutal Degradation. The title is simple and they deliver.
And not only that, but they do it in a manner that borders on high art. Never before have I seen such dangerous looking stage props. We're not talking about mail order tit pinchers or dime store dildo's, we're talking about serious torture devices born of the Third Reich.
The main prop for Saturday night's show at the Kashmer Bar was a spiked saw horse with a ring for a woman's pierced labia. This, kids, is art.
And such is art that it produced a violent orgasm for the slave girl who rode that pony, a mega-blast of cum and torn flesh built from stretched cunt lips and a bleeding anus.
Beats the hell out of me where they landed such monstrous devices, but goddam it made for a good show. The two women, Suzy Macabre and Damballah Oskello are both radiant beauties and obviously enjoy their work.
Be forewarned: this is not for the squeamish. There is nothing soft about this, in fact it makes Caligula seem like a romp through the enchanted forest with the Mouseketeers.
Performances are at 11:30 at the Kashmer bar every Saturday night. This has to be seen to be believed.
Next to the review was a picture of the two women although not a wild action shot. You had to pay at the door to see that.
One of the people who chanced to read the review was none other than Jack R. Shapiro, salesman extrordinaire in town for a convention. He picked up the copy of The Grind at a news stand in search of a good escort service to employ while he was far away from his wife.
He had turned right away to the back of the tabloid to where the escort/massage/pay to get laid services ran their ads. He had his pick of a dozen or so fuck agencies and could pick Oriental girls, black girls, American girls with fake French accents, girls who took it took the ass, you name it.
It was too big a decision to make quickly so he took it back to the hotel with him to give it some thought and take another gander.
That's when he looked at the review and that's when he saw the photo of Damballah and Suzy.
"Oh my God," he said. And then he smiled.
He sat there looking at the photo for a good long time trying to figure out what he should do. He wanted to kill that bitch Damballah. Fuckin' tough girl sucker punched him and locked him in his trunk goddammit!!
Jesus Christ, though, she sure did look fine without any clothes on. And her friend wasn't too bad either. The more he looked at that photo they harder he got.
He closed his eyes and tried to imagine fucking her. He was all smiles.
He thought about fucking her for hours and hurting her with his cock. He touched himself.
He was hard as titanium and he yanked his cock out through his fly.
He squeezed his turgid rod and looked at the photo of the two beautiful naked woman. He really liked the way Suzy's bald pussy looked like. too. he imagined it all wet and hot and he imagined sliding his cock in there. Mmmmm....
His hand was starting to move up and down his shaft, loosely cupped and thoughtful.
He brought his hand up to his mouth and spit into it before bringing it back down to his cock.
It was hot and wet now just like he imagined their pussies to be and he slid his dick through his hand, stroking himself and dreaming of a tonight, hairless pussy.
"Uhhhh ... Ohhhh ... "
He was really getting into it now and he laid back on the bed and closed his eyes.
He jerked and tugged and pulled and stroked and spit into his hand again, his hot saliva pretending to be steamy cunt juice.
It was working just fine. Jack's balls were tight as all hell and he felt the first surge of orgasmic rush in the pit of his stomach.
He looked at the magazine on the bed next to him and closed his eyes to imagine having both of those women there with him.
One was sucking his cock while the other sat on his face. The one with the bald cunt and he ate her out until she came.
He spit into his hand a final time and prepared for blastoff.
He stroked himself faster and faster. His hand was getting weary but he kept it up coz he was so damn close to cumming.
"Uhhhh ... "
He looked at Damballah's tits and that was it. He came all over her.
His eyes snapped shut and his brain went into hyper-space. "UHHHHH!!!!!"
His dick started to get soft in his hand. He wiped off on the bed spread and lit a cigarette.
He looked at the cum stained picture of Damballah. "Maybe ," he thought, "Masturbating to her picture and cumming on it will have a mystical effect-an invokation of lust that will draw her closer."
Closer, that is, for the kill.
He made a mental note not to forget the time and name of the bar and he left the room to get drunk with his salesman buddies.
Damballah and Suzy were smoking pot and getting ready for their next show. They were pleased as punch at the response that got for the first performance and wanted to keep it keep.
Dallas had told them that she had been getting calls all week from as far away as Cleveland. The word was out and it spread like a shipment of cheap Mexican grass.
Everybody wanted to see Brutal Degradation.
They were working on a new device for the next show. Prompted by the review that referred to them as art, Damballah had hit the drawing board and designed a brand new tit torture device.
It was a wonderful design, reminiscent of the Bauhaus and its broyer chairs, sleek, minimalist and efficient.
They enlisted one of the girls who worked downstairs to get her boyfriend, an auto mechanic, to weld it for them and they were so happy at what he made that Damballah gave him a tremendous blow.
It had excited her just to look at it.
It's steely frame glimmered in the light and it looked mysterious and suggestive. It looked like a lot of fun and it was sure to be a hit.
Hell-Nino would have been proud of them.
It wasn't as brutal as the saw horse with the spikes on it, mostly it was a glorified tit pulling, squeezing device, glorified that is in terms of its asthetic design. They talked about using it on someone in the audience. Someone lucky on the audience.
Both of them were tingly with excitement and moisture abounded in their cunts.
They packed the black rubber dildo as well as the one with the spikes and a handful of black rubber garments.
Dallas came to pick them up and they piled into her car. The House of Pleasure was very quiet, most of the girls working the convention. In fact, Joanie was their hustling one Jack R. Shapiro, salesman extrordinaire.
She had fucked him and sucked him and he wanted her to come to the show with him.
She hadn't been there last week but of course she had heard all about it. She had to be curious. She hated Suzy and Damballah but she was dying to see their show.
Brutal Degradation.
It was a very appealing idea.