War Whore

"A great piece of ass," said one of the US officers.

"Yeah, I saw her when she came to offer her services," replied his companion. "Great body, legs up to her backside, big tits, really sexy moody face."

"Yeah, classy. Women like her are dropping their knickers all over Italy. Hungry, got a kid, no money, no food. Opening their legs is the only alternative."

"Hear her old man was a colonel. Killed in North Africa. Father died in a bombing raid. College professor. We're getting some high grade pussy, my friend."

"She's setting up shop in her house on the edge of town. Will take six officers a day - two hours each - 15 bucks or food and cigarettes. $50 for an overnight."

They were talking about Monica Vallacci who was becoming a prostitute out of desperation. The Allies had overrun Sicily following their invasion in 1943, pushing out the Germans.

Their arrival in the town of Montezama had resulted in Monica making the decision to sell herself. She realized the Americans had the money and food in quantities none of the local men could provide. And she didn't want to enter a brothel. At 29, she was in her prime and the most beautiful woman in town.

After her husband's death, there had been no shortage of men wanting to get into her knickers.

With a young son, she needed a man to protect her. First there'd been an affair with a young captain before he'd been sent to the war, then an elderly married businessman had pursued her.

That had ended messily with her being brought before a court accused of acting in an immoral way that could corrupt public morals and make her unfit to care for the child. A very Italian charge. She'd been acquitted with the aid of a clever lawyer but it had painted her into a corner as a loose woman. The lawyer who'd defended her - a fat bastard - made very clear his payment would be her body.

She'd already screwed the equally obnoxious businessman in return for money and gifts, and she allowed the lawyer into her bed as well, enduring his crude love making. Of course, the stories went around town like wildfire and she was labeled as a whore by the local women who were jealous about the lust she engendered and the effect on their men. The lawyer's forceful spinster sister made him split with Monica, who was left to struggle to support her son and put food on the table. She was the subject of conversation in the bars and attracted hungry eyes as she walked through the streets in close fitting dresses that showed off her curves.

She had rejected advances from German officers when they occupied the area, despite the tempting offers of food and money to move into the main hotel which they'd converted into a brothel, but her savings were now exhausted and whoring became the only alternative. Local pimps were aware of her circumstances and began circling, knowing the money to be made from such high class skirt. She'd received a couple of aggressive approaches as she had no protector. Monica feared being forced into working for one of them.

Her son, Mario, was only four and unaware of the attention his widowed mother was attracting.

He would have to go her aunt's house in Palermo. it was heart breaking to be separated from him but he couldn't stay in the town when she began whoring. Monica decided to service the American officers, but didn't want a pimp controlling her. She decided to go to the US headquarters in the square and make her offer. She'd been branded as a whore in the town so she might as well be one. The night before she prepared by shaving her pussy, her under arms and removing the slight fuzz from her legs. She then cut her lovely long, black hairt, looking into the mirror with sad eyes, before dying it red and perming it.

The next day she got ready while her son still slept. She was doing this for him, she told herself as she pulled on her wired bra which shoved up her firm 36 inch breasts which had always embarrassed her as a young woman but always drew the eyes of horny men. She didn't really need the black girdle which she wore because her flat belly and waist did not have an ounce of fat. The dark stockings outlined her wonderful, strong curvy legs as she attached them to the suspenders.

Monica selected a tight black skirt that came just above her knees and showed off her undulating buttocks as she walked, a white blouse that strained against her magnificent bust and a matching jacket. Slipping into her six inch heels, she viewed herself in the mirror, twirling around to inspect herself. Then she applied heavier than usual make up, bright red on the lips, pink rouge for the cheeks and a liberal amount of masscara around her eyes. She'd made herself look like a very expensive slut. Monica sighed as she heard her son awakening.

Mario hadn't seen his mother like this and noticed the change but he was too young to really think about it. Monica was nervous as she gave him breakfast. Her stomach churned but there was no turning back. She had to take him with her as there was no one to look after him as an elderly woman living nearby who normally did so had gone away suddenly. Taking Mario by the hand she walked into town, her high heels clicking on the road, her buttocks moving against the tight skirt. She was soon spotted.

"Hey, look at that," said one man. "What's she done to herself?"

"Really showing it off, eh." "Looks a real whore now."

There had been speculation she was going to go professional for some time. Now they saw the reality.

Monica was aware of the eyes following her and heard a number of whistles. The women watching were scathing.

"Pah, what does she look like?" said one.

"Like the slut she is." replied another. "She should not have the child with her dressed like that. It's not right."

"Where's she going?"

"Not the red light house. I bet it's the yankees. She's going to their office to register."

Every prostitute who worked in the town providing sex for the army had to get a card and be regularly checked by its medical unit every week to curb the spread of VD. Without a card, a woman could be arrested. An office had been set up for this purpose but Monica didn't want to enter one of the brothels operating for the soldiers. She wanted to work on her at her own house and would have to come to an agreement with the army to do so. Mario was aware of the whistles and the men leering at his mpther

"Why they whistle at us, ma ma?" he asked.

"Never mind, Mario. Don't pay any attention," his mother replied.

The walk was not pleasant for Monica. Finally they reached the door of the headquarters blocked by two large military policemen.

"I want to see officer," said Monica.

"Why?" asked one, running his eyes hungarily over her body.

"It's important." she replied.

The two men grinned at each other.

"Have to give you a frisking first," said one.

"A frisking?' she asked.

"Yeah, a body search."

Monica looked as the leering guards.

Both were undressing her with their eyes. She stepped inside the door.

"Hey, Tompkins," shouted one of them to a desk soldier. "Take the kid for a while. We gotta to give his ma a security check in the room."

Mario cried out as the soldier came to take his hand. Monica bent down to try and reassure him, while the guards waited impatiently with their trousers already bulging. Reluctantly he went with the soldier.

Monica was shown into a bare room with tables and a chair. One of the guards wasted no time, pushing her against the wall, his sweating face up against Monica's. His hands went to feel her buttocks, then round to fondle her crotch through the skirt and girdle.

"She definitely needs a strip search, eh Ben.

"Yeah, Charlie. Could be an enemy agent. A Mati Hari."

They laughed. Charlie was squeezing her breasts.

"Great pair of tits," he said. "Let me have a feel."

Ben took his place to paw the voluptuous body. Monica just had to stand and take it.

"You come here to sign up for whoring, baby?" he asked, tugging up her skirt around her hips and getting his hand between her nyloned thighs. "Got to see if you're hiding anything in your pussy."

He forced his fingers under the girdle and then inside the panties. They tore as he sought entry to her vagina.

"I want to see officer," she said.

"When we finished baby," he said and pushed a finger into her snatch. "Got to do a real thorough search, and then Ben will inspect your ass"

She twisted as he painfully shoved his finger high.

"Don't see why the officers should get all the fun," he laughed. "Let's get your tits out."

He grabbed at the blouse as Monica protested. A couple of buttons were ripped off as he pulled it open to reveal the bulging bra.

"Fuck," he said.

The other guard was behind her, taking off the jacket. The remnants of her blouse were removed and Ben savagely tugged at the bra, making Monica cry out as he tried to get it off. The backband snapped and the big breasts were exposed. Charlie shoved his face into them and bit down on one of the large nipples. Monica screamed in agony. She was to be raped crudely.

"What a fucking chest," said Ben.

She was crying as the girdle was wrenched to her feet and she was naked. Charlie shoved a finger up her anus as she twisted.

"Going there with my prick, you little wop bitch," he said. "I'll fuck her Ben while she blows you. On your knees whore."

She was forced to kneel as Ben undid his fly to pull out a large cock while Charlie shoved down his pants.

"Best pussy we've had in this war, eh,' he said.

"Yeah, real tasty," replied Ben. "OK start sucking, bitch."

He grabbed Monica by the hair and shoved her face against his swollen prick.

"Suck," he ordered.

She took his cockhead into her mouth, tasting the stale urine, and then there was a hammering on the door.

"Fuck off," shouted Charlie.

"This is Major Mullins. Open this door at once."

"Shit," swore the soldier, trying to get his erection back into his trousers.

His friend was doing the same. He quickly opened the door.

"What the fuck is going on here?" shouted Hank Mullins, a strongly built balding officer in his 40s.

He saw Monica kneeling on the floor, face tear streaked trying to cover her nakedness.

"We were searching her, sir," replied Charlie.

"I can see what you were doing soldier. You are on duty. This is not a whorehouse. You are both on a charge. Get out." They departed.

"Who are you lady?"

"Monica Vallacci," she said, head bowed, arms wrapped around herself, lipstick smeared, hair in a mess.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"I want to see officer. Those men take me to this room and ..."

"What do you want?" he asked.

Monica fixed him with her mournful eyes, humiliated and ashamed to be seen like this.

"I come to offer myself as officers whore," she replied.

"There's a place down the street to register."

"I know but I want special deal. Work on my own from my house - no in brothel. I officer's wife."

Mullins looked at her. Even in her disheveled, distressed state she was one hell of a piece of ass.

"OK. Get dressed. When you're ready a soldier will take you to my office" he said .

Left alone, Monica did her best to repair the ravages, but her blouse was missing several buttons and torn. Her skirt was hopelessly creased and stained. The stockings were laddered, panties ripped and the bra unwearable because of the broken back band. She cleaned her face, redid her makeup and combed her tousled hair. She couldn't wear the bra or panties and it was obvious she wore no bra under the tattered blouse. Monica looked like a woman who'd been roughly molested. New of what had happened in the room had got around and there were a number of soldiers watching as she took Mario by the hand and made for the Colonel's office.

"Ben and Charlie tried to get up her ass but Mullins intervened before they could fuck her," said one.

"They're in deep shit. Trying to hump a broad at HQ, especially officer's pussy."

"That's the best I seen," said another watching her buttocks moving against the tight skirt.

"Well, we ain't going to get any. Officers first. Perhaps we'll get out turn when they finish with her. Hear about that film star mistress of that Italian general captured by B company. Their CO and the officers had her, then handed the bitch over to the men. She had a queue for a week."

"Hope that happens for us, bud," replied the other soldier.

The major felt his cock harden inside his trousers as he viewed Monica as she entered with her son. He told them to sit and his eyes rested on her as she crossed her legs in the chair, letting the skirt hem ride up above her knees.

"I'm sorry you were assaulted." he said." Those men will be punished. So what can I can do for you," he asked in Italian.

Monica looked at Mario.

"I can speak English. Perhaps my son should not hear this." He nodded. "I want to make an arrangement with the army, your officers," she said, finding the right words difficult. She hesitated, recrossing her legs.

Mullins had a raging hard on now, his trousers bulging as he sat behind the desk. This was top drawer pussy offering to drop her panties.

"I hungry, Mario hungry. I officer's wife. My husband colonel in Italian army. He die North Africa. Now I have no one. Need to earn money." She looked at Mullins.

"You want to register?" he said.

"Yes, but I want only officers come to my home, not house with other women. I need letter from you explaining I not go to brothel."

Mullins nodded and licked his lips. He very badly wanted a fuck but this was not the place after what had happened.

"OK, you need your card first so go to the office out back for your check up. Then I'll come to your place to see the facilities and make the arrangements."

He wrote a letter explaining that Monica would be servicing officers from her home. Mullins had decided he was going to be first.

"I'll be there at eight," he said.

After Monica left he had to go in the bathroom and masturbate.

"Shit, she must have the whole town on heat," he said, as he tossed himself off.

The rapid spread of VD among the allied armies in Italy had resulted in General Patton putting brothels used by soldiers under the control of the army. Medical teams were assigned to carry out weekly checks on the whores who had to be registered. The town's top whorehouse had been assigned to officers, while a few on the lower ranks catered to the soldiers.

The desperate plight of the population meant that many women had turned to whoring to feed their families. Mothers and daughters were forced into the trade - the men folk having to accept their wives opening their legs for the soldiers. Like Monica, the newcomers came to the medical station behind the HQ to be screened. The better looking younger ones were assigned to the officers cathouse. while the less fortunate found themselves servicing the queues of horny soldiers.

Monica was taken to the medical station and found herself sitting in an ante room with Mario and several other women. They gave their names to an orderly and waited their turn to be inspected in an adjoining room. They were tense like Monica and gave her furtive looks, recognizing the beauty who had caused so much vicious gossip. Now none of the women could thinks themselves better than her. The oldest was about 40, the youngest a really nervous well developed 18 year old. All were not prostitutes but they'd soon be getting a very hard fucking. They were all hungry and so were their families. This was the only way to survive.

One of the women had a small baby in her arms having recently given birth. Mario fidgeted and complained about being bored. The women entered the room for a pussy inspection and smear test. They were then allocated either a green card - for the officers house - or a blue one for the men's brothels.

When Monica's name was called she had to leave Mario outside.

"Mummy is just going to see the doctor. I'll be back soon," said Monica.

He complained and started to cry.

"I'll look after him," said a woman sitting beside them.

Monica went into the room where a hard faced medical corps man sat behind a desk. He spent his war looking at pussies, preventing VD and treating cases. He read the letter she gave him from Mullins. It was unusual for a woman to be allowed to work on her own but he could see this one was special. Film star looks. He told her to take off her skirt. Monica did so, showing she just had a garter belt and no panties.

She spread her legs and wearing gloves he probed her vagina looking for any signs of disease and took a smear. She had one of the best bodies he'd seen but knew that the wear and tear of whoring would soon have an impact.

"OK. Here is your card. You come here once a week for checks. Failure to do so will result in arrest. The military police will be informed of your status and your house will be designated a one-woman brothel for officers. You will therefore be protected from pimps who may want to run you. Understand?" Monica nodded.

She took Mario home by a back road, not wanting people to see her disheveled state. Word soon spread that she had registered as a whore.

"Not the only one in this town whose dropped her drawers," said one man. "Won't go into th officers whorehouse. Wants to work on her own."

"Think she's too good for us. When those yanks leave I say we go and give the bitch a fucking in the street."

"Good idea. Let every man fuck her and then throw her ass out of town."

That afternoon Moncia's aunt came to pick up Mario. The little boy didn't want to go. He was crying and so was Monica. It took a lot of cajoling to get him on the train. Monica's aunt was well aware of what she was doing.

"I know you have no choice," she said. "I do not condemn you but take care. There are dangers."

Monica went home and prepared for Mullins. She knew he'd be the first customer. She dressed in just a black bra and girdle with stockings and high heels, painting her face heavily with lipstick and rouge. The photos of her husband and son were put away. The old life was behind her. Mullins arrived at eight. He was surprised she lived in such a large house which was well furnished but then remembered she'd been an officer's wife. He brought her some food and cigarettes.

"Thank you," smiled Monica.

The sight of Monica in bra and girdle had him rock hard. He came to her, reached out and cupped the large breasts squeezing them.

"You got a real pair on you, honey," he smiled.

His hands went to her buttocks, digging his fingers into the girdle and her crack.

"And a great ass too."

He kissed her heavily lipsticked mouth, forcing his tongue inside going deep. His big erection pressed against Monica as he kissed her.

"You ain't done this before, eh," he said pulling away.

She shook her head. He'd had enough prostitutes to know she was inexperienced.

"OK I'm going to fuck you." " Monica took off her bra as Mullins smoked a cigarette. "Shit, she's going to have a queue every day," he thought as Monica reached behind her head to undo the backband and pushed the straps off her shoulders.

The major whistled as she revealed her 36 inch bust which jutted out proudly with hardly any droop.

"You got million dollar tits, baby," he said.

Standing now only in her girdle and stockings, she was exposing her magnificent body. Putting each leg on a chair she rolled off the stockings in turn and pushed down the girdle. Only her pink silk panties remained. She looked as Mullins as she slid them off to reveal her shaved clit. The major came to her, taking her in his arms. She was nervous as he slid a hand between her legs and shoved a stubby finger into her vagina, crying out and bucking. His head went to her breasts, mouthing one of the firm mounds and sucking a hard nipple.