Jenny's Story

By sbrooks103x, inspired by Jenny Maitland in "Faithful" by Todd172, with permission.

Thanks to Todd172 for his permission to tell Jenny's story and his advice, Crkcppr for Beta reading, and, as always, blackrandl1958 for her sweet inspiration and editing.

This is a three-part story. All three parts are written and edited, and will be submitted one day apart.

*****

My name is Jenny Lee, nee Maitland.

Yes, I was one of those "Maitland Girls," one of those girls that could be counted on not to be faithful.

Like the other pretty girls in town, not just the Maitland girls, I flitted from boy to boy, never really settling on any one guy, but I always tried to be friendly with everyone, trying to not act too full of myself.

After I graduated high school, I wasn't sure what I was going to do with my life. While I wasn't some Dumb Dora, my grades weren't really good enough to get into a good college and I wasn't really sure what I wanted to do anyway.

Everyone was always telling me how pretty I was, how I should be a model, or in the movies or in the theater, anything other than being stuck in our small town.

Eventually, I decided to go for it, to go to Chicago, to see if I could make a dream come true.

Unfortunately, I had no idea what I was going to face in the city, I wasn't even sure which dream I was going to pursue!

I got off the bus with my small suitcase in hand, looking up at the tall buildings and feeling very, very small. As I stood there, confused by all the hustle and bustle around me, I was approached by an older gentleman - though I was soon to learn that he was no gentleman! - with a suave manner.

"You look lost, young lady," he said, "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I-I'm not sure," I said, "I just got into town, and I need a job and a place to stay."

"Maybe I can be of some service," he said, "What kind of work are you looking for?"

"Well, people have always told me how pretty I am, so I thought I'd give modeling a try. I'd also love to be in the theater or the movies, but I've never acted before," I said.

"This may be a lucky day for both of us," he said, reaching into his pocket he handed me a card. It read:

Seymour Grant - Talent Scout

R.A.W. Talent Agency

"I'd like to arrange for a test shoot at our studio," Mr. Grant said, "but I'm sure we have several projects that you should be perfect for!"

I was so excited that I was bouncing from foot to foot, but then a dark thought crossed my mind, and I settled down with a frown on my face.

"What is it?" Mr. Grant asked, "You seemed so happy just a moment ago!"

"I just realized that I have no place to stay and not much money. I don't even know where to begin looking!"

"Oh, is that all!" he said with a smile, shocking me with his casual attitude towards my problem. "I believe we can help you there, as well. We maintain some small apartments for our girls, and you can pay us back later! Damn, I'm forgetting my manners! Here I am making all these plans for you, and I don't even know your name!"

"It's Jenny, Jenny Maitland," I said.

"Well, Miss Jenny, Jenny Maitland, why don't we go have a bite to eat, then go check out your apartment!"

With that, he took me to a small diner where we had a pleasant little lunch while I told him all about my life growing up in my little home town; then he hailed a cab and took me to a modest apartment building and up to the apartment that was going to be my new home.

It wasn't much, just a little studio apartment with a small kitchenette, but it was neat and clean. To this day I don't know why I did it; God knows I wasn't at all attracted to him, but I was so grateful that I turned around and gave Seymour a big hug and a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you so much, Seymour," I said, "I'm so grateful for all your help!"

"Think nothing of it, Jenny," he said, "It gives me great pleasure to help damsels in distress. Besides, I'm sure this will prove profitable for both of us."

Seymour gave me the apartment keys and turned to leave, then hesitated and turned back.

"I almost forgot," he said, "This is just a formality, but I have to ask you to sign this lease.

I didn't even read the lease, foolishly trusting Seymour; why not, he had been nothing but kind to me; but little did I know that I was signing my life away!

There really weren't many movies made in Chicago, but Seymour did get me some work modeling in the larger department stores and small parts in some plays, but these jobs didn't pay well at all, especially after the agency's commission.

I barely made enough to put food on the table, much less pay the rent on my apartment, so I was always falling behind.

Seymour came to me and said, "Jenny, I know you're having a hard time, and I think I have something that might be of some help."

I had no idea what kind of help he might be talking about, but I was getting pretty desperate, so I asked him what it was.

"Well, Jenny," he said, "I sometimes work with a gentlemen's club, and they are looking for some pretty girls to serve drinks, maybe dance with the customers, show them a good time.

"It pays fairly well, plus you can get tips from the customers."

I wasn't really all that naïve; I had heard some stories about these "gentlemen's" clubs, but as I said I was getting desperate, so I decided to give it a try.

At first it wasn't too bad. The work wasn't terribly hard, and most of customers, if not exactly gentlemen, weren't excessively crude. Once in a while, a customer would get a little free with his hands, but usually pulling his hands off with a stern look, maybe a harsh word, would back them off.

Sometimes, if he was a particularly good customer I would get a stern look from the manager, but there was little that he could do.

Occasionally, I would see some of the other girls go into a back room with a customer, and it didn't take me long to figure out what they were doing, and I promised myself that I would never sink that low.

It all came crashing down one night when there was a police raid, charging the girls with prostitution! I tried to explain that I was just a waitress, that I never did that, but the police officer just said, "Tell it to the Judge!"

We were all bundled into the Paddy Wagons and taken to the city jail. Since we wouldn't see the Judge till the next morning, a half dozen of us had to spend the night in one cell with three cots and one toilet. I thought that things couldn't get any worse until court the next day when despite my protests I was sentenced to two months in jail for prostitution!

When I walked out of the jail two months later, I was a mess! My apartment and all my belongings were gone, I was flat broke and I still owed Seymour back rent.

After walking for what seemed like miles I found myself in front of Seymour's office. I pulled myself together as best I could, gathered what shreds of dignity I had left, and walked in.

His secretary somehow looked me up and down while simultaneously looking down her nose at me.

"Hello," I said nervously, "I'd like to see Mr. Grant if I may?"

She sniffed as if she had stepped in something foul, but picked up her phone and spoke softly into it, then nodded toward Seymour's door.

I opened the door and entered his office, closing it behind me.

"Jenny, Jenny, my dear," he said with an obviously false warmth, "How are you doing after your ordeal?"

"It was just horrible!" I cried. "Oh, Mr. Grant, you can't imagine what it was like!" I thought I saw a small smirk fleetingly pass over his face, but I thought it must have been my imagination as I continued. "Mr. Grant, I just don't think I'm cut out for the city life. Do you think you could loan me bus fare so that I can return home? I'll pay you back, I promise!"

"Yes, yes, that's all very well, Jenny," he said, "But just how would you pay me back? You also owe hundreds in back rent. Do you have a job waiting for you, or a family that could wire you the money?"

"N-no," I sobbed, "My family is proud, but poor, but I'm sure I can get a job. I would work hard and send you every penny I could! You've seen how hard I work!"

"Yes, you are a hard worker," he said, "But you would be far away, with no way for me to be sure that you would fulfill your obligations..."

"But I would!" I cried. "I've never given you any reason to distrust me!"

"That's all well and good," he said, "But all this time you've been under my watchful eye. Once you leave the city how can I be sure I'll ever see or hear from you again? No, we need to find some other way."

"Please, you have to help me," I said, "I'll do anything!"

Again, I thought I saw a small smile flit across his face, but I couldn't imagine why he would smile at my situation, and pushed it to the back of my mind.

Seymour seemed lost in thought, then he brightened and said, "I may have a solution to our problems," he said. "I know of another club, it's not quite as nice as the one you were at, and you'll have to be a little 'nicer' to the customers, but it includes room and board!"

After my experience at the first club, I had an idea what being "nicer" might mean; but I thought that I could keep things from going too far, and I was desperate, anyway, so I told Seymour, "Yes."

As soon as we entered the club I realized my mistake! Seymour had said this club wasn't "quite as nice" as the first club? Talk about your understatements! The first club was the Taj Mahal compared to this hole! Just the sight, let alone the smell, was enough to turn my stomach. I turned to leave, but Seymour had a firm grip on my arm.

He handed be over to a burly bouncer who half led, half dragged me to a back room of the club. He handed me over to two seedy-looking, half-dressed women. "This is the new girl, Jenny," he said, "You know the drill." Then he left.

One of them, a blond, gave me an appraising look. "Not too bad. What do you think, Marla?"

Marla, a red-head said, "I don't know, Emily, it's hard to tell what's under those rags. Let's get her cleaned up."

They led me into another room that was like a large bathroom/locker room. There was a row of six sinks, and opposite there was a row of toilet stalls, but none of them had a door! There was also a large, open shower area with six showerheads sticking out of the wall. There were a few partially dressed women puttering around, including a couple who were totally naked. I had never seen another naked person in my life, and these women acted as if it was nothing! I thought that nothing could shock me now, until I heard a toilet flush and a naked woman came out of one of the stalls and left the room, walking right by the sinks without washing her hands! I bent over, gagging; if I had any food in my stomach I probably would have thrown it up, so I guess it's a good thing I didn't!

Emily and Marla were laughing as I straightened up, then Emily said, "Okay, enough fun and games, we've got work to do," and she and Marla started taking off their clothes!

I stood there transfixed. Until today I had never even looked at myself naked in a mirror, and now I was about to see my fifth naked woman in less than an hour! Just as I was recovering from that shock, I had two others in quick succession: As Marla pulled her panties down I noticed that she had almost no pubic hair, just a narrow strip above her labia; then Emily pulled her panties down, and she had no hair at all! Marla noticed my shocked look and said, "Don't worry, Jenny, you'll get used to it."

When Emily and Marla reached to start taking of my clothes I backed away, crossing my arms in front of myself. They both laughed. "Come on, Jenny," Emily said, "Surely you can see that modesty is the least of your concerns here!"

With that, she and Emily helped me out of my clothes. They just tossed them into a pile in the corner and led me into the shower area. They turned on two of the showerheads that were next to each other, and we all got good and wet.

Before I could reach for a bar of soap, Emily and Marla each had one and were rubbing their soapy hands all over my body. I had obviously never been with a woman before, it was completely outside my wildest imaginings, but I have to admit that it felt very good!

I was still a virgin, and even though I had done some petting before, I had never been this excited, and as I began to feel the wetness between my legs I thought for a moment that I was peeing myself.

Marla took one look at my face, and she must have read my mind because she said, "Don't worry, Jenny, that's completely normal. It just means that you're enjoying yourself!" She then took my face in her hands and kissed me full on my lips! I had seen some of the girls at the first club kiss and thought that it was disgusting and perverted, but I never knew it could feel this good.

After washing me all over and giving me a good shampoo, they got some shaving cream and razors and shaved me clean under my arms and all over my legs.

Before I had a chance to leave the shower they sat me down, spread my legs and began spreading shaving cream on my pubic area. "What are you doing?" I asked, as if it wasn't painfully obvious!

"Come on, Jenny," Emily said, "Surely you've noticed that none of us have much hair down there?"

"Yes, b-but good girls don't..."

"That's right, Jenny," Marla said, "Good girls don't shave their pussies, but look around. Do you see any good girls here?"

"I-I thought that I..."

"Yeah, I know, you thought that you were a good girl," Emily said, "We all did, once upon a time. Good girls don't last long here, one way or the other."

With that I knew that my life as I knew it was over; I closed my eyes and leaned back and let them do their work; I did ask them to leave some hair like Marla had, and they did. Then we dried off and I let them lead me to a bed to rest and dream fitful dreams of the life that was no longer to be mine.

I soon found out that Seymour had once again played on my naiveté. The "included" room and board? Deducted from my pay, as were the "clothes" we wore. I put clothes in quotes because they were more costumes than clothes, certainly nothing I could even think of wearing on the street! Which was another thing; we didn't really have to worry about what to wear on the street because we weren't allowed out of the club! We were virtual prisoners, if we weren't working in the club itself, we just hung out in the back. We could sit around in the club if we wanted to, but that just exposed us to the hands of the customers without the excuse of having to work to put them off.

I also found out that being "nice" here meant a whole lot more than it did at the other club! While before we were expected to smile pretty, dance close and not get too upset if they let their hands wander and "party" only if we wanted too. Here, having sex with the customers was a regular part of our jobs.

When the bosses found out I was a virgin, I descended to still a lower level of degradation; they auctioned off my virginity like I was a piece of meat. To this day I'm not sure which was worse, the auction or the act itself. The winning "gentleman" had no concern for my inexperience or pain. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it! He just rammed it into me, ripping my hymen; I was in agony.

When he left I just curled up and started crying. Emily and Marla came in, found me crying and saw the blood on the sheets.

"Oh, Jenny," Emily said, "Why didn't you tell us? We could have helped you!"

"I-I didn't know," I said, "I never thought they would do something like that!"

Emily and Marla changed my sheets and helped me clean up, then put me to bed to sleep off my pain and my shame.

For the next two years, that was my life: serve some drinks, flirt a little, dance some and at least once a night, usually two or three times, sometimes even four or more times I would take a customer back to my room and let him have his way with me. My only respite was when I had my monthly visitor.

My so-called life came crashing down one night when several gunmen came crashing in through the front doors. They were shooting at anything that moved; it didn't seem to matter to them if it was a boss, employee or customer; bullets were flying everywhere. Glasses were shattering, people were falling to the floor, some dead, some wounded, some like me, just trying to avoid the carnage.

I looked to my left and saw one of the managers lying there in a pool of blood, a fistful of money in his hand. I grabbed the money and started crawling to the back of the club, staying as low as I could, trying to stay out of sight of the shooters.

I made it to the back of the club, and though I could still hear the chaos out front I felt safe enough to stand up. I grabbed a manager's overcoat from a coat rack, threw it over my shoulders and slipped out the back door.

I didn't want to attract too much attention by running, so I walked as fast as I could away from there, just as I saw the Police cars with their sirens blaring speed past on their way to the club.

I made my way to an all-night diner where I sipped coffee and nibbled on donuts until I could get on a bus and get out of town.

When the bus arrived at the next town I got off and bought some proper clothes, and caught the next bus back to my hometown, not knowing what I was going to find when I got there.

End Chapter One