Reginald Brisbane - The weekend captive

"Right," agreed Ginger Meggs. "Who do I pay?"

"Give me thirty deposit and the other ten to Hugh Watson when you go into the flat." He gave Ginger the address.

Jim Yates had already taken a customer to the flat. There was no need to search for trade beyond the club despite the fact that it was a Tuesday, for numerous associate members flocked to Sydney's beach clubs from Interstate and up country, and on hot days salesmen, rich businessmen, off-duty policemen and others from all walks of life headed for the beaches during a heat wave.

Without bothering to go into details with Hugh, the other three Brisbane life savers made their own arrangements about profit sharing. Two or three fucks would buy a nice new record player for Jenny… had to keep her happy for future visits to Sydney. They decided that two should canvas the club for trade, taking turns to go up to the apartment to help Hugh: some of these horny bastards were liable to have their fuck and then ask for their money back with the threat of their fists. There was to be no queuing… didn't want to get the neighbors suspicious. Two in at a time. One in the bedroom, one having a free beer while he waited in the living room. All afternoon Tiger and Billy slyly let the word drop that a gorgeous young bird was available in a private flat. Not a hippy, nor a whore, but a sweet middle-class kid who was doing it for fun. The money was for the flat – very expensive. Anyone interested had five days and nights in which to make up his mind. For the first three days they would keep the price at forty to fifty dollars, if the market could stand it, then lower the price every day down to twenty dollars. Anyone wanting two goes at her in one day got a reduction to thirty per. There were exceptions:

"Ever heard of Sergeant Wright?" Billy asked, leaning against the bar with Tiger, sinking large frothy "schooners" of beer.

"Sure, everybody's heard of him. One of the demons from the Vice Squad, ain't he?"

"Yeah. The bastard. Someone pimped about Princess Linda and he comes up to me an' says, 'Hear you've got some imported goods for sale, Mister Sutton.'"

"First I've heard of it, Sergeant," I told him. "'Don't get shy,' he says. 'Just put my name down for a special sale price, will you? I'm off duty tonight at eleven. I'll be there at midnight. I know where it is. Here's ten dollars.'"

"Jesus, what could I do? So I says OK mate, but just for you, not the whole bloody squad."

"No, just me. I'm the only one of us who knows the address – so far."

Tiger interrupted Billy's story of the encounter with the plainclothes policeman from the notorious Vice Squad who were said to make more out of Sydney's brothels than the girls did themselves. "At least we didn't have to bribe the bastard. Wonder how he heard about Linda and where he got the address. As far as I know there have only been six blokes go to the apartment so far."

"There's always some pimp about. All we can hope for now is that no one else from the fuckin' Vice Squad hears about it. When you go up there, Billy, warn Hugh not to ask for any more money when Sergeant Wright turns up and tell him to give him all the booze he asks for. Hugh gets his ten bucks while we get the sweet fuckup."

A new record player had already been chosen, paid for and delivered. They all thought a little music would help provide a suitable atmosphere.

Tiger felt in his pocket the first few crisp ten-dollar bills made so easily in a couple of hours. They would all go back to Brisbane much richer than when they left. Tiger was not very bright but it took little brainwork to add up what Linda could earn in twelve out of every twenty-four hours, over five days. If the gross averaged out to thirty dollars a time, sixty dollars an hour – or maybe more with some young customers who would cum as soon as they got up the little beauty – that should work out to six hundred dollars a day! Three thousand dollars for the working week! Working out his own cut was too much for him.

"Let's have another 'schooner', Billy. We're gonna be rich by Saturday night!" He thought how much the Vice Squad must be raking off in bribes from Sydney's brothels: they're worse than the prostitutes, the bastards, he decided resentfully.

News about the girl spread out of the club to groups of men on the beach and in cafes and bars along the waterfront. Before evening when Sludge-Pump replaced him as a cunt-hustler, Billy was surprised at the variety of demands prospective clients were making. Two hard-bitten weather-worn shearers from a six-month shearing run in the Outback offered a hundred dollars each if they could both fuck her at the same time.

"You mean one up her cunt and the other up her ass?" Billy asked. No, they said, both in her cunt at the same time… did he think they were queer?

An old pervert called Thornton, hearing that an underage girl was whoring in an apartment near the beach said he would pay the fifty if she was thirteen. That was his age limit and she had to suck him off – he couldn't get a hard on for normal coitus.

"Sure," said Tiger, taking forty on the spot. "She'll be fourteen next month and she'll do anything." He wondered if he should phone Hugh to shave off the little patch of golden curls from around Linda's pussy and tell everyone that Linda was only thirteen. No, he finally decided, we'd have more than Sergeant Wright to cope with and all the dirty old men in Sydney would be hammering at the door.

Jim told Tiger how he'd managed to get his monster all the way up her anal passage and invited Tiger to share her with him so he could do it again, after they "shut up shop" that night.

"Tonight, after the last customer," he grinned lasciviously. "Yeah, after the pubs shut," Tiger agreed.

The girl lying naked on the bed in the apartment overlooking Bondi's golden beach looked more like twenty than fifteen. There were dark shadows under her eyes, her blonde hair was matted from neglect, her down-drawn mouth was that of a jaded moll and her legs were spread sluttishly apart. She hardly ever bothered to change her position unless one of Hugh's numerous "friends" asked her to turn over or sit up to suck. For four days she had only left the bedroom to visit the bathroom or watch a midnight movie on television. Occasionally she ate a proper meal cooked for her by Hugh, otherwise she kept to her diet of hash cakes and vodka-spiked Cokes. Her body still glowed with the youth of a fifteen year old, contrasting with the dull expressionless face. She "entertained" these friends of Hugh's from about eleven in the morning until midnight. She was hardly conscious of whether it was day or night. She didn't care.

There was no feeling left in her except a constant flame of desire in her cunt. Strange, leering faces breathed beer odors into hers; sometimes she was hurt, men squeezing her firm young breasts, shoving fingers roughly into her anus, digging their fingernails into the tender flesh of her back and buttocks. Both her lips were bruised and swollen, the result of cruel bites from drunks and sadists. She had a cigarette burn mark near the pink nipple of one breast, a scar across her thigh, caused by the flailing belt buckle swung by a middle-aged drunk who insisted on being called sergeant, and her neck was covered with blood bruises.

She hardly slept during the long hours when no one called at the apartment. Late at night when she went back to bed from watching television there was always a bed companion for the night: Tiger or Sludge-Pump – sometimes both. She called him Sludge-Pump now. She loathed both of them, if she got around to thinking about it. She didn't care what they did with her: in fact, her orgasms were always much greater when they had her together late at night or before they went down for their morning swims in the surf. One day she would go down with Jenny's board and swim out into the cool Pacific to cleanse herself of the nightmare she was enduring, suffering it because her mind was too pathetically weakened to deny the demands of her genitals or the fire of sensual desire raging day and night throughout her entire system.