“Fuck you, you three-titty bitch!”
Monique just laughed and shook her long silky weave. “Just who you’ll be fuckin is anybody’s guess, and while your stank pussy is getting scuffed and plunged, G’s gonna be suckin all three of these titties!”
I doubted that cause G didn’t suck no titties, but I didn’t bother to tell her. I was too embarrassed at being seen hemmed up like a criminal. Most of the staff looked at me like, Be strong, Juicy. This ain’t nothing but a thing. But for the most part all I saw was pity. Pity and fear, like they, too, were scared of what G had planned for me.
Deep down I was shitting bricks, but I told myself that as long as Moonie was right and Jimmy was safe, that was all that mattered. I had to force myself not to think about Gino cause that could break me all the way down. Seeing him beaten and pistol-whipped like that had hurt me to my heart, and the look in his eyes when they dragged him up those basement steps was gonna haunt me until the day I died. I prayed they would have mercy on him for being G’s blood, but I also remembered G’s cousin from all those years ago, the one who G had fucked up so bad he still limped around Harlem begging for change with his one-eyeball self.
They took me into the massage room and told Ursula to get out so Kadijah could get me ready. An hour later I’d taken a shower and washed my hair, and Kadijah had taken me into the dressing room and put a bunch of makeup on my face and body to cover the bruises, and then tossed me an outfit that screamed hoochie mama/club stripper/two-dollar ho.
It looked like every nigger in Harlem was in the house that night. G made me get onstage and fuck the poles and do a slow funky striptease, too. I didn’t even try to play with him by acting out. I moved my ass like a natural ho and did all the freaky shit I’d seen Monique, Punanee, and Honey Dew do night after night after night.
I guess I was good, too. Money was flying up on the stage, and every time I turned around and let them see my ass, brothers clapped and hooted and dug in their pockets for some more. I cried inside the whole time and tried to block out all the noise. I pretended I was dancing for Gino, that it was him urging me to lick my titties, ride that pole, and spread open my ass cheeks. Picturing Gino’s long black dick was the only way I got through the segment, and by the time it was over I felt lower than ever before in life.
But G wasn’t done with me yet. When I got off the stage, he put my ass up on the block. Monique was happy to swish her ass over and be the bitch to bring me the bone.
“Juicy girl, them motherfuckers LOVE you! You gonna have the cleaning crew working overtime washing sheets tonight!”
“What?”
Pluto and Greco were each clocking one side of me as I stumbled back into the dressing room. I was G’s prisoner and everybody knew it.
“You didn’t know? Girl, your fine ass got twelve chips already and a crew of cash niggas lined up waiting for you! I think it was that ass thing you did that got ’em all hot. Whatever it was, thank you, girlfriend, cause you giving all the other hoes a break up in here tonight!”
I was in a daze. As many times as I had been in those fuck rooms gossiping and helping change cummed-up sheets, I’d never thought I’d have to one day stoop down to sexing strangers and flat-backing to save my life.
“Here.” Monique slipped me something she took out of a tiny piece of foil. “After about ten of them dirty-dick, stank-breath niggahs, you’ll need this to help get you through the next ten.”
Ironically, Pluto threw me in fuck-room number nine, then stepped inside and closed the door. “You on the clock now, bitch, and I’m customer number one. I want mine first, before all them other niggahs stank that punanee up.”
“You ain’t fucking me, Pluto,” I told him. “Your fat ass ain’t hardly fucking me.”
He slammed me back on the bed, then sat his buffalo ass on my chest.
“No shit, stupid. I don’t wanna fuck you no way. But you are gonna suck my dick.”
The funk coming off his ass was incredible. Here the niggah had on three g’s worth of gear, and his drawers and ass smelled like two weeks ago. Pluto put his fat knee in my chest and pulled out his dick, and I almost threw up at the sight of it. It was fat and uncircumcised and had a glob of slimy juice dripping from the head.
“If you put that shit anywhere near my mouth, I’ma-”
Pluto knocked the shit out of me. “Suck it, bitch,” he yelled as I tried to clear my head and catch my breath. “You gonna suck it!”
That dick was halfway down my throat before I knew it. I gagged and fought as he pumped in and out of my mouth like it was his own personal pussy. Tears were blinding me, but I heard that fat niggah laughing on top of me as he slammed his dick in my mouth up to the balls. “Yeah, bitch. Suck it! Suck it!”
I forced myself to wait until he pulled back, and the moment he went in for another slam, I bit down on that shit so hard it made my jaw ache.
The next thing I knew Pluto was screaming, fists were flying, and my mouth was filling up with blood. A bunch of somebodys bust into the room and pulled Pluto off of me, and I could hear Monique laughing in the doorway. G came in and looked down at me with ice in his eyes.
“Pluto paid for that pussy, bitch. Next customer that comes up in here better get his money’s worth.” But even G couldn’t make me suck no dick. When those niggahs saw Pluto with blood all over his pants, none of them were bad enough to stick their dicks in my face.
The first five tricks were the worst. Some of them I’d known and had dissed for years because they had tried to get with me even though they knew I was G’s. Others were straight-up strangers who were all about getting some cold sex. Only a few of them bothered with a rubber since I was considered prime fresh meat. G stayed right there in the room with me, too, and even told me what to do. “Grab his ass, Juicy. Don’t just lay there! These niggahs done paid good money for that pussy! Fuck back at ’em!”
Five turned into ten, and then into even more. By then my nipples were chewed raw, I was bleeding between my legs and scraped so sore that all I could do was lay there and moan. G looked down on me with a strange look in his eyes, and I thought about all the nights I had lain in bed next to this man while he slept. I prayed he would remember how much he used to like me and say fuck his reputation and have a little mercy on me.
“All right, now,” G said as the next customer came through the door. “Y’all bout wearing this pussy out now. Quit sending them niggahs in here one by one. Let’s get us a train rolling, keep this pussy hot. One niggah jump out, the next one jump in. Let’s move it, fellahs. Time is money.”
I turned my head toward the wall, but I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. I didn’t have no more tears left. But what I did have was a little purple pill Monique had slipped me. See there, Dicey, I thought. Maybe that three-titty bitch ain’t so bad after all. I opened my mouth and threw that pill down my grateful throat.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I had survived the first night and was back in the Dungeon. It was dark and foul, and to top it off the toilet didn’t flush. I jumped at every little noise, and I made myself sing out loud, scared that there were some big-ass New York City rats living in the walls and just hungry for a piece of me.
For the next two days G was his usual generous self. He brought all of his young lieutenants through-the hard-core niggas who worked the projects and served as lookouts and the ones who manned the corners of each avenue passing his product-and let all of them sample my stuff for free.