Disclaimers and other bumf - see part one
Sex - nope. But it is two women discussing lesbian sex and prostitution - and one of them is under age, so if you know you shouldn't - don't.
Thanks to Jean, for liking it enough to ask for more. And especially thanks to Governal. For the encouragement and for the example of her courage; continuing to write and post and submit, no matter what. Academic, writer, intellectual. You rock, my friend.
Comments, complaints, phone numbers - the e-mail is firstname.lastname@example.org
As they left the cafe Sally linked her arm through Sam's again.
Sam looked slightly abashed. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to make you cry back there."
"Don't worry. Not your fault. I'm angry more than anything."
"At your mother! So what happened to your girlfriend, then?"
"Ah! Well. Yeah."
"As soon as I left home I went round to her parents' place. She wouldn't see me. Mam had called them from the neighbours' phone. They'd heard all about it. Julie told her parents it was all me. That I pushed her into it. That I was a pervert and she was innocent. She told them to tell me that I was sick and that she wanted nothing more to do with me. So there didn't seem much else to do. I came up to the West End, hung around for a bit and then fell asleep in a doorway. That was the night before I met you."
"The bitch! I could...."
"Nah. Not a problem. She was just protecting herself. She's eighteen. She has a lot to lose. Her parents would have sent her to a psychiatrist or something. It's not a big deal. Not like we were in love or anything."
"How old are you, exactly?"
"Old enough to have slept with two girls already."
"Yes, but are you old enough for it to be legal?"
"Why? I'm old enough!"
"In other words - no!"
Sam grinned but didn't answer.
They arrived back at Sally's flat. Sam stopped and shuffled her feet.
"Erm. Thanks for everything and all. I know you er... well you need to work and all. Er"
"Well...... I mean you..."
"Sam. Shut up!"
"Yes, I will need to work at some point this week. But not tonight, tonight you can stay here again. All right?"
"Positive. Now get up those stairs!"
"Yes. Ma'am!" Sam saluted.
That afternoon Sam lay propped up on her elbow on the bed watching as Sally inspected her wardrobe, checking and sorting garments. Putting some aside for washing or mending, some for disposal. They were obviously not your ordinary everyday varieties of clothing. Skimpy tops, skirts so short that Sam automatically classified them as 'crumpet pelmet', she'd never seen so many items of apparel made from pvc or rubber in her life.
Watching Sally with the tools of her trade set Sam to thinking.
"Yes, Sam" Sally looked up, adding to the 'to clean' pile a large belt? short skirt? Sam couldn't decide which.
"Can I ask a personal question?"
"Well, I won't make the usual joke there" Sally smiled, "so go ahead".
"How did you get into this business? I mean you said you're… I mean you prefer women too. So how d'you wind up on the game?"
Sally walked over to the bed, pushed Sam's feet to make her sit up and plonked herself down beside the girl.
"Never ask a simple question, will you Sam." Sally grinned.
"Well, to cut a long story very short. I left home as soon as I worked out why I didn't like all the nice young men my parents kept trotting out for my approval. My mother and father are very old fashioned; the only suitable occupation for a woman is wife and mother. And becoming a lesbian just wasn't part of their dreams of a nice traditional wedding - and grandchildren!" Sally smiled bitterly. "So they don't talk to me. Or about me. And they sat Shiva for me. Do you know what that is?"
Sam shook her head.
"It's a Jewish religious ceremony performed when someone dies. It means I'm dead to them"
"Ah, bit like holding a wake?"
"Not quite but along the same lines."
"Hell, no!" Sam's grin grew broader, "that mean you've been circumcised?"
Sally burst out laughing. "Nice one."
She reached over and ruffled Sam's hair.
"Hey! Leave the barnet alone!" Jokingly indignant the girl leaned out of reach.
"Anyway, where was I......ah yes leaving home. Well I discovered that it isn't too easy getting work. I got a job in a department store, selling perfume. And I met a girl. And then we both were fired for being queer. She went back to Wales so I lost the girl as well as the job. Then I found work in a factory; sticking matchbox labels onto boxes."
Sam shuddered visibly.
"Exactly! But it was all I could find. Everything else I went for I was refused as soon as they took up references. The factory didn't ask for any. One of the other women on my line was really, really obviously a lesbian. She was as butch as you, more maybe. Wore a collar and tie outside of work. I didn't care for her much. She drank a bit too freely for my liking and I had a warning from the others that she could be a bit violent with a drink. I stayed away from her. She came to work drunk one day and made a pass at me. In front of my supervisor. Who was a man and who was also interested in me. He reported her for drinking and she was fired. Then he came and told me that in his words 'I must be a damned queer bitch too because I had turned her down gently and hadn't looked horrified enough'."
Sam snorted her disgust.
"It gets worse. He then said that he would report me and get me fired if I didn't go to bed with him."
Sam shot upright. "Why the bleedin'.... I'd like to..."
"Whoa there! It was years ago. It's much too late for you to go riding to my rescue and slay the dragon foreman, my gallant gentlemanly knight in armour."
"Don't be. It's sweet of you."
"There's that 'sweet' word again. Almost as bad as the 'cute' word!"
"Well you are." She leaned over and placed a kiss on the girl's forehead.
"I believed him. I couldn't afford to lose the job. I knew I'd never get another. ....." She paused awkwardly. Suddenly it was very important was this slip of a girl thought of her.
Sam didn't let her down. She threw her arm around Sally and pulled her into a hug.
"Thanks." The voice muffled slightly by the girl's sweater. "How did you know I needed you to do that?"
Sam shrugged. "Coz I would have needed it too."
Sally stayed in the girl's embrace for a few minutes then sat upright and continued.
"Well needless to say, I didn't like it. But to my surprise I wasn't as disgusted as I expected. I found I could switch my mind off. As though it was happening to someone else and I wasn't really present. And I also found that, even not really being there, I could make the proper noises and move the right way. Enough so that when he rolled off me he grunted, 'Seems I was wrong you can't be a queer you were too good at that.' He seemed to think I should be pleased. Throughout the whole thing I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. Neither physically nor emotionally."
She was quiet for a short while. Lost in memories.
"Foolishly perhaps, I expected it would be a one time only thing. Then I realised he expected me to do this every week with the same threat of being fired hanging over me, after about six weeks I thought 'Sod this.' I had a new girlfriend by then anyway. We met at 'The Gates'."
Sally paused at Sam's quizzical look.
"Tell you later"
"Well. My new girlfriend was a stripper. She worked, still does in fact, in a club in Greek Street. And she said they were looking for new girls at that point. Especially ones with good bristols." She looked down at her chest. "And I'm certainly not lacking in that department!"
Sam grinned; a very broad grin, nodding.
"I went along for an 'audition'. Unfortunately, although I have the right sort of body for the job. And let's face it; a body's all you need! No need for a brain! I don't have a single rhythmic bone in my body. I simply can't dance. Not even gyrate in time with music. I don't just have two left feet I have two complete left legs!"
Sally swung those legs off the bed and picked up her tea cup; holding it aloft she raised an eyebrow at Sam, who was looking at the aforementioned limbs.
"Mmm. Yes please. All this listening is thirsty work!"
Sally laughed at walked over to the kitchenette. She continued talking. Raising her voice slightly.
"I didn't get the job, naturally. But as I left one of the older women stopped me. She said 'I know where you can make just as good a living with that body, honey.' I knew instantly exactly how she meant I could. I almost threw a fit and flounced off. But I didn't. I gave it serious thought. I didn't like sex with men. Hell, I'm a lesbian - I love sex with women."
She grinned. A grin which Sam returned.
"But I can do it. And I'm good at faking it. So why not? So I told her 'OK'. She took me to see her madam; she was working as a whore and a stripper. I started working for that woman. Now I work for myself. It's not against the law to be a whore. Only to solicit on the streets. The law being an ass it hasn't decided how I can be a whore without street-walking! Every so often I get arrested, and I pay the fine by going out and picking up a customer. I have five convictions so now I'm known as 'a common prostitute'. This means I can be arrested at anytime while I'm outside my home and required to prove I wasn't working. It's a nuisance but that's all. Most bobbies have better things to do. Of course one of these days it might get serious. Technically I can go to prison for 6 months for this. But hardly anyone does, you need to resist arrest or assault a copper for it to be taken that seriously. Though I've been a little worried lately with the clean-up campaign that new do-gooder has been waging. Mary-whatever-her-name-is."
"Whitehouse." Sam supplied, helpfully. "I thought she was the clean up TV wizard?"
"Yes. But she's a bee in her bonnet about cleaning up Soho too. I expect a few of us will do gaol time before the dust settles. That's part of the reason I've not bothered about working these past two days. Don't want to go to gaol; it ruins your figure!"
Sam let out a full throated laugh!
"So. Want to model some of your work wear for me?"
"You!" Sally threw a cushion at her.