Chapter 1

"She's pregnant!"

"Yeah, no shit. What do you want for a hundred bucks? Catherine Zeta Jones?"

I looked back from the not-too-prosperous-looking pimp to the two women in the back seat of the minivan. The description could have matched either of them, but I'd been looking at the one on the left, who was still holding her maternity dress up over her swollen breasts. She had the big brown areolas that women tend to get when they're pregnant -- and a big belly with that vertical stripe down the center that made you wonder if the poor thing was going to split. She was petite, otherwise, and kind of cute -- brunette, not hard to look at. You couldn't even see her snatch for the belly; for some odd reason, my attention was attracted by her red-painted toes. At the moment, she was barefoot -- naturally. The girl next to her was Filipino -- and except for color, they could have been twins. Both of them had that smile -- the tremulous one with the haunted eyes that said, "Be nice to me, Mister, because if you aren't, he won't be..."

"The holes still work," the pimp recoverd my attention. "You interested?"

What was Manny going to think if I dragged in a couple of pregnant chicks? "What else have you got?"

The pimp waved at the girls and they lowered their dresses. "Nothing else in that price range -- or even close."

For the record, I believed him. I was as nervous as a cat at the dog pound; I didn't do this kind of thing and this was the type of transaction where you EXPECTED to get stiffed. The good news was that, pregnant or not, she was in my price range -- in fact, they both were.

My name is Don, if that matters. I'm generally a straight-arrow, John Q. Citizen type. I have a fairly decent job doing tech support at a chemical company. I'm twenty-eight and a little bald on top already. Women don't even see me, so I don't have one -- no girlfriend, no wife, nothing. Never have. In the place of one, I have quiet desperation, my right hand, and porn. I've got a buddy named Manny with similar issues who just happened to have reached his thirtieth birthday and here I was, trying to negotiate something special for him -- for both of us, actually. A friend of a friend gave me a chat room handle which led to a phone number -- which led to another phone number, which led to various other cloak and dagger crap, which led me to be sitting in the back of a minivan with a black pimp and two pregnant women, wondering when someone was going to cut to the chase and pull a gun or a knife -- or a badge. That was always possible. I could become the town's latest sex offender, which would increase my chances with the ladies a LOT!

That's a pretty good explanation of why I was nervous...

Pregnant or not, pricing was better than acceptable -- which caused me to worry when the shit would hit the fan. Manny would probably forgive me for the whole pregnancy thing when warm lips enveloped his meat; the trick was probably going to be surviving this meeting intact. I looked from one of the young women to the other. "How long?"

"Business is slow. What do you want? We'll come up with a price. This pair -- well, you can see the problem with them."

"Yeah." They were really pregnant -- which said they probably weren't cops, although the pimp or his driver could still be. That left the dangers involved in farting around with criminals -- which were bad enough. "All night?"

"Buck and a half. It's a discount, but then I don't have to fucking babysit them."

I grunted. That was fine -- I had five hundred in my wallet and the same in my car; three hundred worked. I sat wondering if I could get greedy.

The pimp misread me. "Awright -- we'll go the hundred."

I covered my surprise. "What do I get?"

"Whatever you want. I don't give a fuck. If you kill her, dispose of her yourself." The girls both flinched, which caused me to believe that he was serious.

"What can you do me for two nights?" I asked.

The pimp squinted at me, realizing that he'd probably low-balled himself. "Why two nights?"

I managed a smile. "I find that nothing makes you want pussy like getting some. After one night, I'll want more -- after two, I'll probably be set for a while."

The pimp nodded. "Friday's the weekend." He was going to shake me down for a higher rate. Okay, maybe I'd have to say no. I frowned at him, waiting.

Again, he mistook my indecision for something else. "Yeah, awright. They're not covering their upkeep. One eighty -- either one." I frowned again -- this was too easy. He frowned back, "What the fuck?"

"Just surprised, that's all."

The pimp looked bothered. "Let's talk outside."

I shrugged. Outside the car, someone might notice the gun or knife play ... I got out behind him. He leaned against the car and said, "Lookit, I'll be honest -- those two were a bad investment. They started out okay, but the bigger they get, the harder it is to peddle them. They're a specialty thing now, and there isn't a lot of demand. Neither one of the cunts has turned a trick in a week. If they don't show something soon, I'm gonna have to drop 'em from the inventory. You like one over the other? I might be able to keep one a couple more days -- that'd simplify the choice..."

I put on my best poker face; if I was reading this guy right, being dropped from the inventory meant they were going to end up dead! "What if they turn a profit for a couple of days?"

He picked his teeth. "It won't last." Then his eyes lit. "Why don't I just sell you one?"

"What? I'm not set up with a basement dungeon, Man!" I erupted.

"No need -- they're both broken in. It doesn't take much to keep them in line. I do it by telling them I'll punch them in the gut a few times so they'll miscarry. I got them from this Armenian guy who worked on 'em until they were nice and docile."

"And after the babies are born?" I asked, incredulous.

"Hey, you've got the kids, then. Both of them are big into motherhood -- they won't abandon them. Darla's kid is by the love of her life, or whatever, who caught it from a roadside bomb in Iraq -- it's her memento, or whatever. Luz ... Shit, Luz barely speaks English -- I don't fucking know why, but she's been real good."

"What the fuck would I do with them?"

"Make 'em clean houses or something if you don't want to put 'em out. I can't do that shit -- bad for morale among the other girls." He eyed me. "Five hundred. Pretty decent for permanent unmarried cooze."

"What if they're too much trouble?" I asked. This was deep...

"Put 'em on the street. Somebody will pick 'em up. The competition will -- but they won't last long; I'm soft-hearted." He grinned. Cocking his head, he said, "You could sell the kids -- but you'd have to kill the two of 'em first."

"I'm not really set up for that," I told him. "I'm just looking for pussy!"

"Yeah, sorry. I hate wet work."

I wanted to puke! Holding the poker face, I said, "Five hundred? Apiece?"

"Both?" He looked surprised.

"If it's as simple as you say it is..."

"Hey, worst case, you fuck their brains out and put 'em on the street for someone else to clean up," he replied, shrugging.

Unbelievable... "Get Darla out. I'll give you money for her. Give me a couple of minutes and I'll be able to pay for Luz, too."

I watched him think about screwing me over -- but I was doing him a favor. He opened the van door. "Darla! Move your pregnant ass out here!" Darla got out, with some difficulty. I opened my wallet and extracted three hundreds and four fifties and handed them to him. "Meet your new owner. He knows how to deal with your shit, so don't give him any." Darla nodded and moved next to me, rubbing her swollen belly nervously.

I pointed at my car. "Get in the Chevy." She nodded and waddled off. "What else do I need to know?"

He shrugged. "The Armenian trained them. A veiled threat is as good as a slap in the mouth -- especially if you DO slap 'em once in a while. The Armenian probably kills off twenty percent of his stock with no warnings as object lessons to the rest. I don't know what else he does, but I've heard tales. They've never given me any trouble -- no bitch I ever bought from the Armenian has."

"Give me a minute to collect the payment for Luz," I told him. Seeing the way he looked at me, I added, "It's all that there is in the kitty, so you have nothing to gain ... I only came out to buy a couple of shots of leg, remember, not start a white slavery business." I think I actually got some respect from him. I backed away warily, going to the car and opening the left rear door to fish the envelope with my backup money in it out of the pocket behind the front seat. Darla was settling into the passenger seat in front. "Just sit there and don't do anything stupid," I told her. She nodded.

I headed back to the van. When I was about halfway there, he opened the van door and yelled, "Luz! Come out of there, you little cocksucker!" That put her little brown feet on the parking garage floor about the time I got there. She bent over and collected two pair of flip-flops from inside the van, displaying an ass no doubt widened by pregnancy. It looked good to me. I just handed the guy the envelope. He glanced inside, not bothering to count it. "You'd have been a sucker, wouldn't you?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I dunno. I wasn't wildly excited. If you're asking would I have paid this for one, maybe, given the circumstances -- but you needed to get rid of both, anyway, right?"

"Yeah." He pursed his lips. "Pleasure doing business with ya." He turned to Luz. "Luz. Car." He pointed. She started waddling. I backed away warily (not that I could have done shit), but he waited until I'd reached the car and then said, "Oh, yeah -- here's their shit," and went to the back of the van and withdrew two bags, dropping them on the floor, then climbed into the van; it pulled away, and no firearms appeared. No flashing blue lights came on, either. I'd traded a thousand dollars for the lives of two pregnant women; what was I going to get for that money, exactly? Jail time? On the surface, the transaction merely resembled more white slavery ... I couldn't claim to be as pure as the driven snow, here -- I came out looking for a prostitute, and I got two ... I went over and cautiously collected the bags and brought them back to the car.