Chapter 19: The Filthy Beggar

On the busy streets of Gozopolis, Joan’s old red pickup truck parked in a spot reserved for the disabled, but Margot didn’t even notice the blue sign with the wheelchair. Pôia, sitting in the passenger seat, widened her eyes and poked the reporter.

— Margot ... I think this spot isn’t for us ... there’s a cop coming over there.

Margot, already opening the door and talking nonstop, shrugged: — Ah, forget it, sweetie. We’ll deal with that later. Come on, I’m gonna teach you how to buy stuff in the big city without getting screwed by these shady salesmen.

Pôia got out, carefully adjusting her maid uniform, and followed Margot along the crowded sidewalk.

The reporter wouldn’t shut up for a second: she was spilling celebrity gossip, stories of trouble she’d gotten into, scandals from the Daily Cum, all while gesturing wildly and laughing loudly.

— ... and then the editor called me crazy because I said the Mayor was fucking his secretary in the City Hall bathroom! But I had pictures, damn it! Of course I published it!

Pôia listened to everything with shining eyes, staring at the tall buildings, the shop windows full of expensive clothes, the honking cars, and the people rushing by. She looked like a child on her first trip to the city.

— Wow ... everything’s so big ... and there’s so many people! — she said in a low, amazed voice.

Margot noticed and gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder: — My sweet girl, try not to look so obviously new in town, otherwise it might attract the wrong kind of attention and...

Before she could finish the sentence, a black, bony hand shot out from a dark alley beside them, grabbed Pôia’s arm with force and yanked her into the shadows.

Margot, distracted looking at a shoe store window, kept walking without realizing she was now alone.

— ... and then I told him “You think I’m stupid? I’ve got it all recorded!”

In the damp, stinking alley, Pôia was slammed against the dirty brick wall. A beggar woman was pressed up against her, her dark skin shiny with sweat and slime, long greasy dreadlocks falling over her shoulders, her bloated, flabby belly pressing against Pôia’s.

Her old beige party dress was torn, with one huge, floppy tit spilling out the side, swinging heavily, the dark nipple covered in milk and dripping onto the ground.

The dress was so short that her massive black pussy, with loose hanging lips, was on full display, leaking creamy cum down her thighs. Her asshole was visibly twitching, dripping diarrhea that ran onto her thin-strapped high heels, exposing her toes with long, yellowish nails, sweaty pink soles, and giving off an intense sour foot stench.

The beggar flashed a wide grin, showing her prominent gums, thick lips drooling at the corners, and a viscous yellowish snot running from her nose.

— Ey yo, c’mere bitch, let’s fuck! — she rasped hoarsely, her voice sounding like she smoked two packs a day.

— Take dem fuckin’ clothes off right now so I can suck dat pretty white pussy! I wanna ram my tongue deep up dat tight lil’ pink asshole!

Pôia trembled in fear, eyes already watery: — P-please ... let me go ... I don’t...

But she obeyed out of terror, her shaky hands starting to unbutton her maid uniform, careful not to wrinkle or dirty the fabric.

— Stop dat prissy shit, hoe! — the beggar yelled, losing patience.

She grabbed Pôia’s clothes and yanked hard: — Take dis rich bitch clothes off already!

At that moment, Margot appeared at the entrance of the alley, saw the scene and ran over.

— Let her go, you stinking piece of shit! — she shouted, shoving the beggar away from Pôia with both hands.

The beggar stumbled but pulled a rusty pocketknife from the torn pocket of her dress and pointed it at Margot.

— Oh shit, look at dis brave lil’ hoe! We gon’ see if you still actin’ tough after I put some holes in yo’ muthafuckin’ belly!