Chapter 30: One Sign of How Normalized...

One sign of how normalized, how deeply ingrained Miss Kitty’s had become to the culture of the town, was Career Day at Sausalito High School.

It was held on a Friday near the end of the school year; seniors were excused from class to attend the mini job fair where employers had set up tables or small booths in the school gymnasium.

The graduates-to-be could visit with potential employers in various fields — insurance, the sawmill, accounting, paper mill, Ruby Tuesday, and the like.

But the overwhelming favorite, the one that drew the most attention by far, was Miss Kitty’s. While the seniors would technically be too young to dance there, IDs were fairly easy to obtain, and the vetting process at the strip joint was notoriously lax.

Miss Kitty’s recently started hosting a weekly Amateur Night which was wildly popular. The audience loved seeing fresh pussy, and the girls were eager to stand out. Amateur Night could be a stepping stone to part-time, even full-time employment.

Kate didn’t bother to keep any official records, but town lore was accurate for once — every Amateur Night dancer had fielded at least two or three requests for a BJ Room visit.

And Amateur Night was an exception to Kate’s current policy of hiring only mothers. It was an opportunity for single girls to strut their stuff, earn a few bucks, and, for a change, get paid for sucking cock.

At Career Day, Miss Kitty’s was noted not only for its popularity, but also because Kate Broussard herself presided in the signup booth. In the early years, it would never have occurred to her to have such a public presence. And, most of the women who applied for work back then were a little furtive, some embarrassed, a few tinged with shame.

Then the local economy took one of its periodic nosedives, layoffs spread, and jobs were scarcer than ever. By the time the school district invited Miss Kitty’s to participate in Career Day, any stigma had long been erased. With the eternal exception of the religious fundamentalists.

Today, many Sausalito mothers accompanied their daughters to Career Day, to the Miss Kitty’s booth. Kate had wryly acknowledged a turning point a few years back when Karen Duval held her daughter’s hand and proudly told Kate, “Missy been sucking cock for over seven years, Miss Broussard, the boys say she got real good. Real, real good. Show her, Missy.”

Missy was a little plump, with the sweetest face and an angelic smile. She made a little ceremony of unfolding several pages of handwritten testimonials from dozens of boys and young men. Kate smoothed out the sheets and read through the scrawled, and signed, accolades. She managed to keep a straight face. “Missy, how did you manage to get them to sign?”

Karen interrupted, “They don’t sign, I go and see them.” She nodded, pleased at the memory, “A couple of them, I had to have me a talk with their mothers.”

Missy nodded; a perfectly reasonable procedure.

Then Kate saw a marketing opportunity, a chance to grow the legend, “Very impressive, Karen. Bring Missy by this evening around 9.”

“You got it, Miss Broussard! She gonna dance up there on your stage?”

Kate held up the references, “No, we’ll just head back to the Blowjob Room and you and I can watch her suck off a few of my regulars.” Kate sometimes enjoyed pushing the mothers, testing their limits, measuring the degree of desperation. And, she knew, the story would be all over town, and all over the school system, the next day.

Karen and Missy beamed with delight.

But as Eulalie told Kate last year, “It’s even better that blowjobs don’t even come up on Career Day anymore. They’re now just a given, an everyday fact of life. No need for a girl or her mother to even mention them.”

Miss Kitty’s was now fully integrated into the texture and rhythms of life in Sausalito, Mississippi.

Jill woke up slowly, gradually; then she realized exactly where she was. She grinned to herself — in Danny Boy’s room, in Danny Boy’s bed. She glanced at her cell, it was a little after noon. She estimated the amount of time he’d spent doing her, and figured she’d been asleep for around an hour. Deep, restful, reinvigorating sleep.

She stood up, yawned, stretched, and took inventory. She was sore, that was the first physical sensation that registered. But it was a deliciously erotic tenderness — a reminder of why she’d come here, of what he’d done with her.

More importantly, how did she feel about the entire ... episode? Fling? Affair? Wonderful. Proud of herself for having the nerve to follow through on her fantasies.

She stretched again, and noticed her tee was folded neatly on a chair. Her panties lay on top, her sneakers side by side on the floor. Denise; no way a 14-year-old boy would be that considerate, or even aware.

Jill heard faint conversation coming from the direction of the kitchen. She opened a second door and found the bathroom. Which had another door that led, she assumed, to Denise’s bedroom. A shared bath, interesting.

She took a quick shower, being careful to keep her hair dry. Then wrapped a towel around her and, blushing only slightly, started toward the kitchen.

Denise and Danny Boy, wearing their matching robes, smiled openly and kindly at her. He winked at her and she flung her arms around him, hugging him tightly for a moment.

Denise placed her hands on Jill’s cheeks and bent down to kiss her on the lips. Her tongue flicked in for just a second, but it registered with Jill. Then Denise undid Jill’s towel and tossed it on a kitchen chair.

“I love to see his little pussy-girl naked.”

His little pussy-girl? Is that what I am now? She did a mental shrug: Guess so. And she acknowledged that she enjoyed — really enjoyed — how she felt when Danny Boy’s appreciative eyes looked her up and down.

Denise nodded at her son, “It’s time.” She turned to Jill, “We been waiting on you to open the champagne.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He sliced away the foil covering, wrapped a hand-towel around the head and ... Pop!

They clinked glasses and Jill sipped, “Nice. Not too sweet.” She looked at the label — Veuve Clicquot. “I never had this, never even heard of it.”

“Special occasion, special wine.”

Even though the atmosphere in that sun-filled kitchen was casual, Jill was aware of her nudity, of her tingly body, of their mutual approval.

Denise said, “Lunch. More champagne — I bought a case. Ray-Ray will be here at around three to tape you two lovebirds.”

“Oh. I forgot about that.” She thought: God, Denise doesn’t waste any time. Am I really going to let Ray-Ray ... Of course I am. Who am I trying to kid?

“This time I get to be there.”

“You will? Right there ... oh.”

“Acourse, I had a little peek earlier. His first time an’ all.”

“You did? While he was ... I mean ... oh.”

Denise and Danny Boy began setting the table, laying out the food. Cold poached salmon. A Caesar salad with a tangy dressing. More champagne.

Danny Boy said, “Ray-Ray will shoot us in Denise’s room. Better afternoon light.”

Denise reached across the table and tweaked Jill’s nipple, “With your fair skin, you’ll jess glow.”

Jill couldn’t wait any longer, “Denise, I never had ... I mean what Danny Boy did ... I never came so hard ... so much ... I mean...”

Denise gave her a slow, kindly smile, “Oh, honey, we’re jess getting started with you.”

Jill: We? But she believed Denise; believed her frank, open statement. But was confused at the same time, “Uh, what ... how...?”

“We’re gonna take real good care of you, Danny Boy an’ me.”

“Uh, Denise? When Ray-Ray is here to ... you know. Could I ask a friend to be with me?”

“Acourse, dear. Who is it?”

“Her name’s Ginny? Ginny Dumont?” Jill felt the need to explain, “She’s a dancer, Saturday mornings at Miss Kitty’s. When I met her ... well Ray-Ray was taping her for Kate. An’ then he decided to do me too. For Danny Boy.”

“She’s very welcome. Is she your girlfriend?

Jill felt her face go red, ‘Um, not exactly. Not yet. Not quite.” Quit babbling.

With the confidence that Denise and Danny Boy had, Jill had a feeling of being swept along, like in a strong river current. A sense that she wasn’t in control. Well, she certainly hadn’t been in Danny Boy’s bed. Maybe she should stop overthinking everything and just try to relax and go with the flow. Denise was clearly in charge of the three of them. And Danny Boy had been more, a lot more, than she had dreamed of. While she had only made that one tape, and it had been a solo effort, she decided that wasn’t too nervous about having Danny Boy fuck her on camera. With Ginny right there, it should be easier.

She smiled shyly at Denise, “Am I really his little pussy-girl?”

“Hon, you have no idea.”

Marie Lambert’s little house was the last stop on Eve Castilian’s tour of the Cajun Bayous. It was now almost 6 in the evening and she felt overdressed even though all she had on was a new CUNT thong and flip-flops. Slim and CC were barefoot.

Marie and her daughters, Dolly and Riley, were nude, sweating, and completely unselfconscious. Marie fondly swatted her son’s limp penis, “It don’ matter, Tee-Will don’t like pussy.”

Riley smiled at her brother, “He don’t even want a blowjob, Tee-Will.”

Dolly felt the need to explain, “Oh, we kin get him hard, all three of us, but...”

Marie said, “When he cums, it jess sort of dribbles out, ain’t no excitement to it.”

Tee-Will smiled placidly at the chatter. He was studying CC with interest.

Eve was no longer remotely surprised at the nudity, the candid conversation, the open frankness.

Slim said, “You ladies are looking good.”

Dolly said, “Mama took us to Cunts Corner after school.”

Riley nodded, “Mama likes all them boys looking at her.”

Marie grinned and swatted her son’s penis again, “No one ‘round here looks at me like they do.”

Slim said, “How much does Tee-Will bring home most nights?”

Marie beamed, “Eight dollars last night.”

Riley, “But he sucked a lot more than eight cocks.”

Dolly said, “See, like Mrs. Bouchet? She got her new husband, two boys an’ one cousin livin’ there. Still jess one dollar, all four of ‘em.”

Marie felt the need to brag, “People down here real fair, don’ try to cheat on the money, non. Mrs. Trembly? She got two sons, but they three other boys staying with her? They mama real sick with the flu or something?”

Slim went along with it, “So she pays one dollar for her own boys?”

Dolly nodded happily, “An she pay another dollar for them Chevalier boys.”

Riley said, “So ever’ one gets a blowjob, an’ we don’ get cheated out of a dollar.”

Eve said, “Very fair, all the way around.”

Slim said, “But Mrs. Trembly, she better watch it with them Chevalier boys. They little an’ young, but they sneaky. Grace Chevalier tole me more than once she wake up with a tiny cock in her pussy.”

Marie looked at her son, “Can they cum yet, them Chevalier boys?”

Tee-Will beamed, “Yes ma’am, an’ a lot more than a lot of boys.”

Marie thought over the ramifications. “Well, Beth Trembly ain’t no virgin. Maybe she wake up, make ‘em pull out afore they cum.” Her shrug gave it away — she wouldn’t care all that much if one of the Chevalier boys knocked Beth up.

Slim winked at Tee-Will, handed Marie a dollar, and pulled CC’s thong down and off. Tee-Will stirred to life. Marie, Dolly, and Riley stared at CC. Slim smiled to herself.

Eve Castilian was vaguely aware of the others in the room, but she was clearly absorbed in the sight of one of the most beautiful boys she had ever seen. CC was completely at ease as Tee-Will sat down in front of him and began to lick one nice and full cock.

As the young boy sucked, Eve took a quick glance around the room. Marie, Dolly, and Riley, thighs spread, were openly masturbating. Eve felt Slim behind her, when she felt Slim’s hand slide under her CUNT thong, she smiled.

Eve had a healthy sex drive anyway, but now she was openly fantasying about CC while his mother finger-fucked her to a series of rolling orgasms. Eve had never experienced anything remotely like this, but the sheer naughtiness reminded her, somehow, of her youthful days in New Orleans.

Back from her sojourn to the Cajun Bayous, Eve Castilian studied her family. Janie and Susie, despite their sudden and explicit education at Miss Kitty’s, seemed surprisingly serene. They knew major life changes were looming. And they knew, or sensed, how valuable their youth, their sexuality, their imaginations, their bodies, were.

Yet rather than becoming giddy or overly excited, they seemed to be in a reflective mood. Anticipating what life would be like in the Double-D, yet not letting it overwhelm them.

As for her husband ... well, Don was the same steady, hard-working good guy he was when Eve had first met him. Straight-ahead, no pretensions, no illusions.

Eve knew she had a lot of work to do to prepare him for her new job working for Kate Broussard. And even more work, a ton more work, for getting his mind around Janie and Susie’s involvement.

Well, Eve would seek guidance from Kate — the woman had hired hundreds of women over the years.

As it turned out, Don was leaving for the oil platform in the morning. As usual, he put a Do Not Disturb sign on their bedroom door. Janie and Susie no longer teased their mother; he was a man, he needed pussy, what else was new?

Don was, Eve had decided years ago, a pretty good lover. Sensitive to her needs, considerate enough right up to the point of his orgasm. He no longer thrilled her the way he had when they first met, but who would expect that particular candle to burn that brightly for so many years?

Don knew enough not to go right for her clit, like so many boys did. He banked her fires gradually, teasing, slowing down, letting her find her rhythms.

As he fucked her, Eve fantasized about CC Hebert, about that beautiful Cajun boy with the slender body and the scrumptious cock.

Later, after Don had kissed her goodbye, Eve lay in bed, revisiting the scene — Slim finger-fucking her while CC was standing there so comfortably as Tee-Will sucked his cock.

As Eve guided herself to one gentle climax after another, she wondered who she should ask for permission to fuck the boy. His mother or Sabine? She pondered the delicious question idly. Eve now worked for Kate, and Kate reported to Sabine.

Dilemma resolved. She would ask a 14-year-old girl for permission to fuck a teenage boy. And, after the first time, she wouldn’t mind if his mother joined them. Eve closed her eyes, smiled, and languidly played with herself as she imagined the three of them in bed. She’d never been with a mother and son. The various combinations, the forbidden aspect, the sexy Cajun woman playing with her while she was getting fucked. Eve shuddered to her most intense orgasm in weeks.

Sausalito’s perception of Miss Kitty’s had evolved over the years. Resentment and suspicion had gradually given way to acceptance, then even to a grudging respect.

But lately, in just the past few months, the town’s attitude toward the dancers had begun to shift in an even more positive direction. It was now more than merely an economic understanding — a job is a job. No, now, many citizens began to hold Kate’s employees in esteem. And, of course, many girls and young women were envious.

The overall frame of mind had shifted the needle very much to the positive side. The Blowjob Room, once so controversial, now caused no more conversation than a White Sale at Simmons Department Store.

The Saturday Morning Dancers wouldn’t have caused such a flap if it hadn’t been for the requirement that each of the performers had to have a son in the audience. But, over the months, even that risqué qualification became part of the new normal.

The Sunday morning dance class for 14 and 15-year-old girls? Any resistance to the idea had long melted away. It was now common knowledge that the girls ended up performing naked. And, it was rumored, that performance included a lot more than just dancing.

Grannies Gone Wild, while interesting, hardly caused much comment. The only unexpected consequence was that three of the dancers’ son-in-laws came to see their wives’ mothers in the buff. Two of them took their mom-in-law back to the BJ Room.

A few titters, but mainly the attitude was — ‘typical guy, fantasizing about doing the wife and mother.’ Ho-hum.

Now, the Mama Room still raised a few eyebrows around town. What in the world did the customers do with a mother and son? But even that topic could sustain interest for only so long.

These days, Miss Kitty’s was certainly part of the establishment, but also a prominent, respected element of the town’s makeup. Kate Broussard was not only one of Sausalito’s largest employers, but was personally liked and admired.

Working there had morphed from stark necessity to an aspirational goal. She had far more applicants than jobs these days; and those who did get hired were lauded for it.

Sure, everyone knew that the later sets in the night got a little wild. Complete nudity, but so what? It was a freaking strip show. Yeah, the girls cheerfully finger-fucked each other. Yeah, they licked pussy. Yawn.

All of that and much more was readily available for viewing to anyone who had Internet access.

And, Kate performed small kindnesses. Every morning, seven days a week, she paid for two dozen beignets a PreJean’s Bakery. Every downtown worker knew to stop by the bakery, pick up a treat, courtesy of Miss Kitty’s.

A small thing, but there was also a collection box in the bakery with the proceeds going to a fund to help pay for Emergency Room visits to Sausalito General.

And, Kate was well known for extending small, interest-free loans to people who needed a quick, no-questions-asked financial assist.

So, when Kate announced the new club — The Double-D -- what was Sausalito’s reaction?

Interest and curiosity, to be sure. But mainly it was that twelve new jobs were opening up. The Dirty Dozen would now work in the club, so Kate would be hiring twelve new dancers for the Saturday Morning performances.

Win-win.

Now, gossips being gossips, there was rampant speculation as to what would be going on behind the club doors.

“It’s private, so anything goes.”

“I heard there’s going to be sex shows up on the stage. I mean real live fucking.”

“You know them Dirty Dozen teenage boys ain’t there for decoration.”

But most of the chatter was curiosity, not condemnation. Kate Broussard had changed the ethos of the town. Females, from little girls to grannies, wanted to work for her. Fundamentalist would always rail against sin, but most of the rest of the dinner-table conversations ranged from avid curiosity to admiration. What would Sausalito’s leading entrepreneur do next?

Kate had the Dirty Dozen and their sons come to the private room at Miss Contrary’s on a sleepy Monday night. Once again there was a single bed in the middle of the room, one sheet with hospital corners, no blankets, no pillows.