Chapter 54: Eulalie Guidry Was Still Fond...

Eulalie Guidry was still fond of her hometown even though Chase Windsor was turning her into a citizen of the world. She now thought of Sausalito in his terms — as a laboratory. An ideal place to experiment, to push limits, to test new strategies.

Eulalie had followed in her sister’s footsteps. It had been Marie’s original idea to sex the town up. To begin erasing the former standards of propriety. Miss Kitty’s had been the catalyst, had tested the tolerance levels of the residents.

Strippers were now called dancers. What had at first been a stopgap job to put food on the table, to pay the rent, was now an aspirational position. Kate Broussard had a waiting list to get on the waiting list.

Lap dances. The Blowjob Room.

From flashing an occasional boob to full frontal nudity. Moms Gone Wild to Grannies Gone Wild to Teachers Gone Wild. The Saturday morning shows for an audience of naked teenage boys. The Sunday morning nude dance lessons for teenage girls.

In a minor, less obvious way, Contrary Mary’s contributed to the town’s growing acceptance of public sexuality. Marie had started the trend with younger waitresses and skimpier costumes.

Now Darlene hired only 14 and 15-year-old girls. Eulalie was considering lowering the age by two or three years, but hadn’t yet pulled the trigger. Kate told her, “Some of those girls have boobs by the time they’re 9 or 10.”

“Chase and I are more interested in the pre-boob set. There’s a niche-demand for the naturally bald set. But he doesn’t think the time has arrived yet. Doesn’t’ want to attract attention from the ... um, state side of law enforcement.”

The ‘uniforms’ at Mary’s now consisted of a barely-there crop top and the first-resented, now-embraced, CUNT thong.

Since Mary’s was cash-only, Darlene added a pussy-level garter for customers to slide a tip into while copping a feel. The garters had proved immensely popular with both customers and waitresses.

For the crowds who began drifting in after 10 in the evening — to drink and to dance to the small bands that played nightly — the garters were an immediate hit. Even to many of the women who came in in groups of three, four, five, and more. Kate and Darlene weren’t surprised that many of those tipsy girls — laughing and nudging each other — felt up a bald little pussy just as blatantly as some of the men.

Kate told Darlene, “Like at Miss Kitty’s on Ladies Night. They get a few drinks in them, and they’re finger-fucking my girls right out in the open.”

But on this visit to Mary’s, Kate had some new news for Darlene, “Eulalie liked your idea, honey. Go for it.”

The next morning, Darlene gathered the early-shift girls into the party room. She looked them over, pleased as always. She counted them ... one, two, three... 12. A dozen 14 and 15-year-old Cajun girls with freshly-scrubbed faces, white smiles, tan bodies that were taut and slender. Nipples clearly outlined. And the eyeball-magnet — those tiny thongs.

Darlene said, “New wardrobe, girls.” She nodded to a table with white, pleated skirts in a stack. Also, matching white crop tops. “Try ‘em on.”

The girls were puzzled, but obedient. They would never question the boss.

The tops were a little sheerer than the earlier versions; all of them were white and would, along with the skirts, give out a uniform vibe. Every little girl would be wearing white — top and bottom.

The skirts were short, hanging down two or three inches below the butt. The girls glanced at each other, clearly confused. It was sort of a sexy look, but nothing remotely as revealing as the thong.

Darlene looked the girls over; she’d been right about the color — white showed off their tan torsos and legs to great advantage. She grinned at them, “Okay, now lose the thongs.”

The puzzled silence lasted only a second or two — then loud laughter and cheers erupted. Thongs were lowered and tossed away. The girls giggled and practiced different poses — bending over, kneeling down with an imaginary tray, placing a foot up on a chair, twirling in a circle.

Flashing a pussy would be a cinch. Darlene winked, “Think about tip-time, girls.”

“Yes!”

They got it right away. No more thong to slide a finger under. Instant pussy-access. More money to take home at the end of a shift. Especially at night, but even these girls — working breakfast and lunch — should expect a bigger payday.

And Darlene rotated them so they all got to work the drinking crowd. She smiled as they sashayed back to work, hips swinging, legs flashing, grins plastered on. She knew that the word would have spread across town by lunchtime. Texts, calls, emails, photos, social media. All of Sausalito would be aware of the new bare-pussy policy at Contrary Mary’s.

The short skirt was at once both more conservative than a thong and even more obscene. Just knowing about the easy access would drive hundreds of jack-off fantasies throughout the Sausalito school system.

Darlene told Eulalie, “Those skirts will be perfect if you ever let me start hiring the young stuff.”

“Hold that thought, Darlene, hold that thought.”

Driving home from the Cajun Arms, Jeannine and Maggie were quiet. Not a stunned silence, more contemplative, reflective. Each was reviewing the morning’s activities in her mind.

Maggie was still fixated on CC. She knew it was inappropriate, but she was now thinking of him, not Ray-Ray, as the one to take her cherry. She was smitten.

The highlight for Jeannine — no question, whatsoever — was when Slim took her to bed, just the two of them. As sexy and as talented a lover as CC had been, Slim simply blew her away. The woman had some eerie ability to foresee Jeannine’s needs and desires even before she herself was aware of them.

Slim had had her howling and shrieking like a banshee; she’d never cum so hard in her life. And yet Slim made it seem almost effortless, as if she didn’t care if Jeannine climaxed or not. Slim seemed to be in her own world, focused on her own pleasures. She had merely taken Jeannine along for the ride.

As she drove home, Jeannine kept replaying Slim’s comment to Ray-Ray as they walked down the motel steps to their rides. She had patted Jeannine on the butt and said, “I’ll call when I want you to send her to me.”

“Of course.”

Jeannine realized a couple of things in that instant. That Slim had been in control not only in the Cajun Arms, but of Ray-Ray’s life. And Jeannine’s heart skipped a beat when she heard the words, _send her to me._ The morning hadn’t been a one-off for Ray-Ray’s sex tape. Slim was planning to do her again.

Standing by CC’s Vespa, Slim looked Jeannine up and down, and casually remarked, “I’ll probably keep you all night.”

Jeannine restrained herself, didn’t fist bump, didn’t squeal with joy, “Of course.”

On the ride back to the Firefly House, CC said, “Jeannine’s got it bad for you. Like Honey.”

“No. Honey’s in love with me. Jeannine is in lust.”

Jeannine and Maggie went straight to bed for much-needed naps. Jeannine said, “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Okay.”

Fortunately, Jeanine had told Siri to wake her; otherwise she might have slept until Chad came home from work. As it was, she had to scramble to get Maggie up and going. She was due at Mary’s at 4 to work the dinner shift.

Maggie was still a little groggy; Cajun Arms vignettes were flashing through her mind. Mostly about CC. But she perked up when Darlene showed her the new outfits. She immediately stripped in the changing room and pulled on the white top and skirt. As the other girls had done, she practiced different poses in front of the mirror, very much liking what she saw.

The dinner crowd trickled in, then grew in volume. Word had spread about the skirts. There were still several families with kids. Darlene was covertly checking the moms to see if there would be any complaints about the no-thong policy. So far, so good.

Just in the course of taking orders and delivering trays of food, Maggie was delighted at the number of hands that slid under her skirt for a quick reconnaissance tour to determine whether the rumors were true.

“Sweet.”

“Wow.”

“Nice.”

Dinner service usually peaked around 8, but lasted longer this time. And the drinkers started coming in a little earlier than usual. Darlene shooed the three-girl band up onto the little stage ahead of schedule.

The room was packed. They were two and three deep at the horseshoe-shaped bar. Darlene flagged Maggie down, “José set up a beer bar on the back deck. Help him out.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The Cajun Arms, even CC, was quickly forgotten. Maggie was rushing from the bar to the tables, carrying a tray full of Dixies. She didn’t take the time to collect; “Pay me before you leave.”

The hands that slid under her skirt weren’t intrusive; nobody tried to slide a finger in. They were gentle, curious, caressing. Darlene rushed out and quickly fluffed up Maggie’s nipples. She did that when the girls got jammed.

“Thanks.”

José, usually a dishwasher, brought out two cases of beer at a time. He opened the cans for Maggie as she flew around the deck. She delivered four Dixies to a table of women in their 30s. One of them lifted Maggie’s skirt, “See?”

Hoots and cheers.

By 11, the crowd had thinned out. It was a work night, a school night. Still, when Maggie turned in her tips, she’d earned almost $150. The other girls had had similarly lucrative shifts.

Darlene, who earned a percentage of the gross, would have had her girls work naked if she could have gotten away with it. In the meantime, she was still trying to figure out a rationale to talk Eulalie into letting her hire younger girls. They wouldn’t even need tops, and Darlene could just picture the miniskirts she’d have them wear.

Jeannine and Maggie hadn’t heard from Ray-Ray for a week, then two. Well, he had sent them the professionally edited tape with Slim and CC. The mother and daughter watched it together the first time. Jeannine was both surprised and a little relieved that Maggie didn’t seem to have any concerns about what they did. She watched the video with as much fascination as her mother did.

Ray-Ray also sent them individual clips. Maggie’s featured just CC and her. Jeannine’s was with Slim. Both mother and daughter spent a lot of time watching themselves in action.

Then one morning at breakfast, Ray-Ray called Jeannine, “Stop by the Firefly House — Slim wants you to give CC some pussy.”

By then, Jeannine had asked around, had inquired about Slim Hebert. She was, indeed, CC’s mother, not his sister. Perhaps more significantly, she worked for Sabine Babineaux, Eulalie Guidry’s heir apparent. Jeannine had never been plugged into the local power structure, but she had certainly heard of Marie and Eulalie Guidry. So ... Sabine and Slim.

As she drove to the Firefly House, Jeannine wasn’t thinking about being told to go fuck a teenage boy. Nor about Ray-Ray’s fade, or demotion, from her life. No, she was focused on the fact that Slim had sent for her. Jeannine, the 27-year-old mother and formerly faithful wife, didn’t consider resisting. Didn’t feel insulted or degraded. Nope, she was smiling as she left the house.

Slim opened the door smiling widely, “Girl, you look delicious. Come on in.” That distinctive bayou accent.

She introduced Jeannine to Sabine; it was startling to see how young the girl was. Slim and Sabine wore panties; CC was nude, erect, and smiling. Jeannine started undressing right away. She knew why she was there.

Back in the bedroom, CC said, “Should I tape it?”

Slim considered the question, then nodded, “For Maggie, she’s next.”

Slim briskly lubed Jeannine and then CC; she guided him in as Sabine checked her messages, glancing up every once in a while. It didn’t take CC long, but he used his fingers and gave Jeannine a quick orgasm of her own. Jeannine sensed that he had remembered what she liked from the motel session. But it was still obvious that Slim had sent for her to take care of CC.

When they came out of the shower, Slim smiled at her son, “Take her down to the bayous — Hawk and Alain haven’t had any city pussy for a while.”

“Sure.”

Slim patted Jeannine on the butt, “Just do what CC tells you an’ you’ll be fine.”

“Uh. Okay.” Was this some kind of test? Telling her to give CC some pussy was one thing. But now ... who were Hawk and Alain? But Slim was so sure of herself, so matter of fact...

At the City Dock, CC stripped down to a thong. Jeannine noticed the prominent bulge. So soon after cuming. Youth. As he effortlessly piloted the Jon boat through the Cajun Bayous, he smiled at Jeannine, “We’ll stop at the Bayou Bar, get you a shampoo and a breakfast beer.”

“Okay. Sure.” She had heard of the Bayou Bar because several Sausalito women had paid a visit to Cunts Corner. So she wasn’t shocked when CC told her to undress. And she certainly wasn’t bothered to see ten or twelve naked rope-line boys perk up at the arrival of new pussy.

Sinéad brought over a couple of Dixies and CC introduced her to the city girl. Sinéad smiled at the boy, “Ah, so this is Slim’s new pussy.”

The Irish proprietor looked Jeannine up and down. Trim body with a paler tan than most of the Bayou Cajuns. Perky breasts, nice little pussy. She winked at CC, “You and your mama will have some fun with this one.”

“Yep.”

“How long will she keep her?”

“No idea, Sinéad, you know Slim.”

“Aye, that I do, but this is prime pussy, my lad.”

“That’s why Slim took her away from Ray-Ray.”

Sinéad continued to study the city girl curiously. “Is this one a good fuck, CC?”

“She will be when Slim has worked with her for a while.”

Sinéad nodded, still examining Jeannine with an open frankness, “Is she obedient, CC?”

“She will be.”

“Has Slim had you butt-fuck her yet?”

“Acourse.”

Sinéad nodded again in agreement, “Yes, sure she has. She’ll get every ounce of pleasure out of this one.”

Jeannine not only felt no resentment at being discussed as pussy, as an object. She was pleased — even a little proud — to hear herself described as _Slim’s pussy._

The blunt conversation made her more anxious to please CC, to do as he told her, to earn a good report card. She smiled openly at the masturbating boys; even they added to her sense of ... freedom, of cheerful wantonness, of her resolve to make CC proud of her.

Later, as they were leaving Cunts Corner, CC said, “Don’t bother getting dressed. Slim wants to show people...”

Jeannine grinned, “Her latest pussy?”

“Yep.”

She had an odd sense of freedom down there in the bayous. No one knew her; she’d never see them again. If Slim wanted her naked, wanted CC to parade her around, so be it. She knew she looked good, looked sexy. Not in Slim’s class, but then who was?

As they motored away from the Bayou Bar, Jeannine asked him, “Who are this Hawk and Alain?” She smiled, “Since apparently I’m going to be fucking them.”

“Jess a couple of swamp rats, like me.” He grinned, “Slim gave the Calendar Girls to ‘em, so they come to like city pussy.” He winked, “Like me an’ Slim.”

“CC?”

“Yeah?”

“When are you going to do Maggie?”

“That’s up to Slim. But it’ll be pretty soon. She can’t believe the girl’s still a virgin.”

“Does Slim think less of me for that?”

“I don’ think so. Me an’ her are still getting used to city ways” He shrugged, “Sure is different from down here.”

He docked the boat and led Jeannine up some rickety stairs to the deck of a freshly-pained house. “This is Hawk Babineaux’s place. He keeps it up nice.”

“Babineaux? Like Sabine?”

“Yeah, he’s Sabine’s older brother.”

“Oh. My. Well.”

A naked woman welcomed them with a huge smile, “CC Hebert! Come in, come in!” She held out her hand, “I’m Magnolia — you must be Slim’s new cunt. I heard ‘bout you.”

Jeannine stared at her; she looked so much like Sabine. Could be her sister, but somehow Jeannine knew she was the mother. And, Hawk’s mother. The woman beamed under Jeannine’s scrutiny, “Hawk keeps me naked.” She gestured down her body, “He likes me this way.”

Jeannine recovered from her surprise, “I can see why, Magnolia, you’re so beautiful.” Thinking: _He keeps his mother naked?_

Jeannine looked around the tiny kitchen. Heard tinny music on a radio. Smelled warm cornbread. As they sipped chicory, CC said, “We looking for Hawk, he anywhere around?”

Magnolia beamed at Jeannine, “Hawk, he’s my husband. Sabine saw us — how much in love we was — and let us get married.” She nodded to herself, “Official.”

Jeannine masked her disbelief, but she was still stunned at the revelation. What in the fuck was she getting into?

Magnolia went on, “Hawk and Alain, they over by Fleur’s, fixin’ her back deck.”

CC nodded, “Fleur Mouton.”

Magnolia got a dreamy look on her face and turned to Jeannine. “I ain’t suppose to brag, my husband, but Hawk, he’s the best fuck I ever had, me.”

Jeannine swallowed, “My.”

CC said, “Slim wanted me to give him some city pussy, Magnolia.”

The woman laughed out loud and clapped her hands, “Oh, he loves that city pussy, Hawk.” She patted Jeannine’s knee fondly, “You in for some prime cock, city girl.”

“My.”

Magnolia turned to CC, squeezed his bulge, “You want me, take care of it afore you go?” She explained to Jeannine, “My husband, he like me to take care his friends.”

“Oh. I see.”

CC smiled, “Thanks, Magnolia, but Slim sent me on a mission; you know Slim.”

Magnolia nodded vigorously, “She’s like Sabine, you best do what they tell you.” She leaned forward to confide in Jeannine, “Sabine tells me to do something ... well, I learn to jess do it.” She shook her head, smiling, remembering, “Ever since she about eight years old ... you jess do what she says.”

As they drove to Fleur Mouton’s, CC explained the backstory. “Magnolia couldn’t say no, couldn’t turn down a boy. So Sabine began taking over.”

“At eight?”

“Around there. She gave away her oldest brother and her twin sisters. Sabine was getting ready to move to town, and they were too much for Magnolia to handle. And Hawk wasn’t interested in them.”

“Sabine gives them away, just give them away? And lets Hawk marry his mother?”

“Yep.”

Jeannine held her counsel. She was the stranger down here.

CC pulled up to another little pier, and they were greeted by a smiling flat-chested woman wearing only raggedy shorts. CC did the intros and Fleur grinned at Jeannine, “Slim sure can pick ‘em.”

She patted Jeannine on the butt and asked with an innocent, almost childlike tone, “She a good fuck, CC?”

“Gettin’ there.”

Fleur led them into the kitchen — same music playing, gumbo burbling on the stove, through a bedroom, and out to the back deck. Two slender Cajun boys — they and CC could have been cousins — were nailing three new planks into the floor of Fleur’s back deck.

They stood politely, wearing white underwear, and shook hands with Jeannine. They were obviously pleased to see the naked woman, but looked quizzically at CC.

“Slim’s new pussy.”

“Ah.”

“Oh,”

Neither boy seemed any more surprised at the news than Fleur had been. _Slim’s new pussy_ described Jeannine and explained her presence. The phrase conveyed everything the people down in the bayous needed to know.