Nicole Duval - The breeders

"Thank you." He turned to Carolyn and guided her toward the door, his firm hand still on her arm. "You will let me take you to dinner, won't you? Somehow I can't envision a lovely girl like you eating salami and cheese."

"Well, I really don't know… I'm just waiting for my bus change," Carolyn was reluctant. After all, he was an absolute stranger.

"… and we haven't been properly introduced?" He smiled.

"Something like that," she smiled back.

"It's really quite proper, you know," he said frowning with exaggerated concern. "We've run into each other before."

"We have?"

"Of course! Don't you remember… you stepped on my toe at the ticket counter, Miss Tamarack West Virginia."

"Oh, that was you. I'm sorry. I just didn't notice who it was." Carolyn laughed an apology. "I really am sorry, you know."

"If you're really sorry, then you must let me take you to dinner to prove it."

"I'm afraid I don't look much like going out to dinner anywhere," she apologized. "You see, I left… where I was… in rather a hurry and I didn't take time to pack a bag or anything. This is all I have and, well, I don't look very presentable."

"You look charming!" He smiled down at her.

Yes, he had noticed that she had no luggage. That was why he had followed her to the counter, why he had invited her to dinner. This was a central transfer point for all major bus lines out of New York City. There were many pretty girls who arrived on the New York bus without luggage, down on their luck and usually pretty hungry. Pretty girls who left their small home towns with stars in their eyes and their brags of success still ringing in their ears… Pretty girls who came home eventually when all else failed, tired, hungry and broke. But still pretty…

It was the desperate pretty girls who were easy prey for Paul J. Price. "Just long enough to get enough money to go home in style." That's how he always put it to them. "At a hundred dollars a night, honey, you can go home like a aueen!"

Carolyn Vance didn't care about going home a queen. She didn't even care about going home. Tamarack, West Virginia, wasn't her home. It was only a small town with a pretty name on a map. She had done a childish thing – closed her eyes and pointed blindly at a spot on a map. And the spot had been Tamarack. She had only wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, where no one knew her. She wanted to start over fresh and clean and smelling of Chantilly instead of dog.

But most of all, Carolyn wanted to learn to make love to a man… to many men, perhaps… not to dogs.

Mr. Paul J. Price, for all his continental manner and experience, was surprised when the pretty girl he had met but moments before answered his proposition to become a high-priced prostitute with a simple chaste "all right".

But then Mr. Price didn't know about dogs…

Or why it was so vitally important for her to know about men…

"You're very generous," Carolyn smiled at the balding conventioneer, and tucked the folded bills into her bra.

"Think nothing of it, honey, when Henry Pippen's in town, the sky's the limit! How about a little nightcap, baby?" His pudgy fingers poked at her ribs and Carolyn winced. "We been having us a time for over an hour. I'll just bet you could use a little 100 proof courage. Bet you don't run into many men my age who can keep a pretty young girl like you busy for an hour, huh? Huh?"

Carolyn smiled and lowered her eyes naively. No, she thought and fought to keep from yawning openly, not many, not more than fifteen or twenty a week… and most of them make love just as poorly as you. She opened the door and leaned against the sill.

"Not tonight, Mr. Pippen." She declined as gracefully as possible. "I'm awfully tired. Perhaps next time you're in town, hmmmm?"

"Sure thing, little girl." He reached into his inside coat pocket and handed her a business card. "You ever get down my way now, you give me a call, ya hear?"

Carolyn nodded and smiled… and closed the door on him. She leaned her back against the door and sighed, slowly tearing the business card into small even pieces. They fell to the floor in a flutter of white cardboard snow.

Another dismal failure. Her guts felt like they were spread out in a frying pan. There was the same old burning sensation in her loins, it never seemed to go away any more. She leaned her head back against the door and closed her eyes. How many had it been? Fifty, seventy-five? A hundred? At least. A hundred male bodies had paid their money and poked at her with a hundred eager cocks. A penis paradise for an insatiable female! Only it wasn't paradise. It was hell! 'Cause it never worked for her. A hundred strangers pumped her full of semen and were satisfied… and still she ached. She had nearly three thousand dollars in the bank now. It represented three months on her back and it was enough to put her back on her feet again. She would tell him right now.

Carolyn walked to the rumpled bed and sat down by the telephone. Slowly, carefully, she dialed the private number of Paul Price. It rang, then rang a second time.

"Hello, Price here," came the deep masculine tone.

"It's me, Paul… Carolyn."

"Through already, doll? Good!" his voice said he was pleased. "I've got another bunch from the convention that should be good for a real bundle, kid. I'll send 'em up."

"No," Carolyn said firmly. "No, don't send them up. I'm through, Paul. I'm going home."

"What'dya mean, kid?" He growled over the phone. "You can't stand me up with a Goddam convention in town."

"I'm not standing you up, Paul." She was trying to be patient, but patience weighed a lot on your shoulders when you were dead tired. "I told you when I started this thing that it was only for a little while. I had to prove something to myself. Or maybe it was un-prove something. I'm not quite sure. But I know when I've had enough. I'm going home."

"To Tamany or wherever it was?" he said with disgust. "You won't be satisfied in a hick town, Carolyn, you won't even be able to have a good screw without the neighbors talking about it! How you gonna satisfy that hot mouse of yours in a hick town like Tamany?"

"Tamarack," Carolyn said, "And I don't expect to satisfy it, if its any business of yours. I haven't been satisfied in months! Not once in months! I'm sick and tired of coming up with somebody else's kicks, Paul. I'm getting out. I'll leave your money in an envelope with the clerk downstairs… and I'm catching the next bus out. Good bye, Paul."

She laid the phone back in the cradle quickly before she could hear his crackling objections. It was over and done with. She would call the bus depot and find out when the next bus went to Tamarack. She ran her fingers across her aching stomach, scratched gently in the tangled mass of curls and massaged the hungry button in her wet crotch. She wondered fleetingly how the dogs were. Had they gotten safely away? Was someone taking care of them, exercising them, enjoying them? Eyes closed, she worried the needy flesh of her loins and remembered how it had felt to have one of the big Danes between her legs… his thick rough tongue rubbing life into her, endlessly, tirelessly, until she couldn't stand it any longer and grabbed his harness and pulled him hard into her kneading hole where he would hump her into orgasm after orgasm… and leave her weak and satisfied. Satisfied. Oh God, how she wished she could be satisfied that way again! How she would sleep!

The brassy ring of the telephone shattered her memories.

She reached over for the phone listlessly, sighed and answered its impatient jangle. "Hello?"

"Don't hang up, kid. I just want to talk to you a minute."

"What is it, Paul?" she sighed into the phone.

"Answer me honestly now. I've done alright by you, haven't I, kid? I did what I said I'd do for you I sent you lots of guys, clean guys, guys with money to pay the tab. Right?"