A Wanton Tale (2 page)

For Betsy and Freddie, the sound from the bedroom above was music to their ears. For Betsy it meant a good fee from the punter, she was sure he’d come back for more. As for Freddie, it would normally have signified gratification of his own perversion. He enjoyed watching the antics in the two rooms. He had fashioned spy holes so that he could watch the girls at work.

Betsy allowed him to move around the house, he knew every floorboard. He knew which one squeaked and which one didn’t and just where to put his feet in order to slither about the house unheard. It wasn’t unknown for Betsy to allow a punter, if that was his wish, to pay to watch others in the bedrooms.

Betsy’s careful control of the comings and goings would sometimes disturb their own world and they didn’t mind one bit. Both knew that any inconvenience was for the sake of the smooth running of their ‘professional’ establishment.

If a client came too early she would usher them into the parlour. She offered a drink and a chair beside the fire. At first the conversation was stilted, some didn’t speak at all and few of them made good eye contact. As they relaxed she engaged them in conversation, learning of a particular fantasy they may be happy to play out, for a price, of course!

It was in this way that she learned of those perverts who had a penchant for young girls. The evil crone knew that was where the big money lay, particularly now the age of consent was sixteen. Alice being only twelve was an added bonus.

Before 1885, the age of consent had been thirteen. ‘Thanks to the interfering busy body and over privileged bitch, Josephine Butler, the unobtainable just became that much more expensive.’ Thought Betsy.

Similarly, the cunning madam encouraged the girls to report any requests from their clients. She had learned never to say ‘no’ to anything, with the only exception of any particular act that might cause permanent injury to one of her girls or the client. Her accepted level of depravity boiled down to simply ‘How much will you pay?’ She was careful though, she knew that unwanted attention from the law would ruin her. She walked a careful ‘tightrope’ of keeping the pounding ‘Peeler’ on her side.

There was no expense spared in the furnishings and decor of the bedrooms used by the clients. Carpeted throughout, the first floor room even boasted a four poster bed which dominated the room. Good quality heavy drapes and curtains completed the decoration in both rooms. Tethers, canes and even whips, were discreetly hidden in the wardrobes.

Betsy ‘looked after’ the three young women who worked for her. Lily, Lou and Ellen all lodged in the garret on the top floor. The large attic room was a far cry from the opulence of downstairs. There was one mean fireplace. Sloping ceilings made it easy to bang your head and it was at the foot of the stairs leading to it that the luxurious carpet had stopped.

It was cold and damp in the winter and unbearably hot in the summer but it was better than where they had come from. All three girls came from Emily Place. The cheap cottages from which they came were disease ridden and dilapidated. The old back to back dwellings had been built for seamen in Napoleonic times and had seen better days.

The girls had, in the past, worn ragged clothes and had walked barefoot with matted hair, their nakedness covered by stolen coats. The notorious court dwellings were in stark contrast to where they were sitting right now and they were grateful. They knew that there were worse ways of earning a living.

Each of the girls had a bed of their own, the bedding was clean without bugs or fleas. Betsy provided each of them with a jug and bowl, towels and lavender scented soap. She had bought privacy screens for them which came from the expanding Chinese community, not far from the house. They were hand painted and a decorative means of cordoning off their bed space, to give them a little ‘room’ of their own.

Ellen and Lou were up there waiting for their next punters. ‘She’ll be about finished now with the spanking judge.’ Said Lou with a titter. ‘Couldn’t do it meself, not without burstin’ out laughin’.’

‘You say that Lou but you take it somewhere where she won’t. We all have our tricks.’ Laughed Ellen.

‘Don’t know why you’re laughin’, she’s laughin’ all the way to the post office, she’s a thrifty little cow is Lily, savin’ money all the time, doesn’t spend much on herself and gives nothin’ to her hard up family.’ Said Ellen seriously.

‘And mine are not gettin’ a sausage off me anymore, you better not crack on Lou , Lily’s got ambitions and is savin’ for a place of her own.

They went quiet when Betsy called up to Lou. ‘Are you there Lou? The Old Sea Dog’s ‘ere for you. Come down now, he’s in the back room on the bed taking off his wooden leg.’ She quipped.

‘I’ll be down sharpish Aunty.’ Said Lou a little reluctantly as she adjusted her low cut dress, revealing most of her breasts. Her gaudy glass earrings and necklace glimmered in the lamplight. With a flourish of her hand she dabbed on some cheap perfume with the stopper of the moulded glass bottle.

Freddie knew the old man was waiting for Lou and was sitting in the back kitchen, today’s spectacle would be too good to miss. He was enthralled by the grotesque sight of the lame old seaman with the buxom, raven haired girl. ‘The Old Sea Dog’, nicknamed Jack, was always a little drunk. ‘He was legless in more ways than one.’ Thought Freddie, he had watched them many a time.

Freddie’s sharp ears knew every creak of the stairs, he could hear Lou’s steps on the first floor landing and flew into the back kitchen. There was a row of copper pots on a shelf across the wall adjoining the downstairs ‘bedroom’. It was behind the big pan that he had cut through a ‘spy hole,’ a perfect match to his height. The spy hole was lined up with the brass bed, Freddie enjoyed peering through to watch the action, it was better than any theatre show.

Freddie’s heart skipped a beat with excitement as he heard the door click shut, Lou had arrived in the room. He screwed up his left eye, focussing with his other eye and today he had a good view. The striking figure of Lou was hour glass perfect, her breasts were the biggest he had ever seen. He had incurred Betsy’s wrath more than once when he was caught groping the girl.

Lou caught a whiff of her client’s stale rum breath as she came to the side of the bed and stood in front of the disabled man.

She smiled as she slowly unbuttoned the front of her dress. She knew that her breasts were an asset which excited ‘Jack’ and many others bringing them back to Betsy’s house time and again.

‘You know I like to see your tits Lou, I will suck ‘em hard today.’

‘No you won’t Jack, not unless you want to get yourself barred.’ Smiled Lou. She took in a deep breath, accentuating the mounds of her breasts, this excited him more.

Lou stepped slightly out of his reach and unfastened the buttons of her blouse. Throwing the garment on the bed, she removed her skirt. She made a show of the tops of her breasts which were pushed up by her corset. She pulled the end of the bow undone and lowered the white cotton material of her petticoat to the floor then stepped out of it.

Her drawers had slipped down and she could feel the cold air of the room on her partially exposed bottom. She hadn’t bothered to wear stockings so she just had to kick off her boots leaving her naked but for her corset.

Her bottle nosed punter was flushed, almost puce. Licking his lips, he reached out to grab her as she unfastened her corset and removed it.

She stepped closer to Jack as her breasts fell free. He slipped his clammy hands around her ample flesh. First, he held them and then he squeezed and gently probed with his fingers.

Lou was ready for him and told him firmly. ‘Not rough Jack!’

His hands on her breasts became a little more urgent.

Meanwhile in the kitchen Freddie was becoming aroused, he loved the sight of the punter playing with Lou’s ample breasts.

His pleasure was abruptly halted by Betsy. A glower was enough to send him off to the parlour. They never exchanged a word until they were safely inside, he was afraid of the punters finding out about his voyeurism.

‘Dirty bastard you are Freddie Hale. Someone will poke a stick in your eye one of these days and I will laugh!’

‘I am having a drink.’ Said Freddie defensively, ‘I’m just making sure that the girls are safe, I like seeing what’s what.’ ‘Not bothered, suit yerself, at least it keeps you away from me.’ Answered Betsy. He quickly sunk a measure of gin then left, sheepishly creeping up to the bedroom.

He had just hidden himself in time as there was a knock on the front door. A casual punter had arrived and was shown into the parlour. Betsy’s trick was to bring down the two girls who were waiting and let the client decide who would service him. If he was undecided then the most ‘rested’ would stay.

Lily tossed her five shillings into her money box kept under the floor board close to her bed. Today it had been easy, she liked to take out her frustration by whacking the men, it was retribution as well as thrilling. It made her feel powerful, even excited, in an otherwise powerless situation. The girls just idled away time making small talk. The topic of conversation was punters who preferred all manner of perversions. At Betsy’s bordello there was something on offer for every conceivable taste and whim. They were nameless faces, each with certain peculiarities and some had nicknames. ‘Limpy,’ ‘Smelly Feet’ and ‘The Nose’. The girls were shameless and coarse.

Lou said goodbye to her client as she helped him onto his wooden leg. ‘See you next time my beauty, one more kiss before I go.’ She pecked him on the cheek, ‘You can do better than that.’

‘Your time is up Jack, you don’t want to upset Aunty Betsy now do you? I’ll see you again, I look forward to it.’ She answered tartily. Her words sounded genuine but her sentiment was hollow. She ushered him out of the door, firmly closing it behind her so Betsy knew she could move the new punter, safely, to a bedroom. Lou would then set about the task of tidying the room for the next one who would, probably, be Ellen’s.

‘I won’t be able to have a wash. Freddie’s gone in there, just heard the door click shut, Betsy’s probably caught him piping through the spy hole and he’s more than likely been pulling himself off.’ There was an ornate plumbed in washstand inside the Hale’s boudoir and the girls were welcome to use it.

‘Dirty bastard.’ Lily agreed.

‘Yes he is a dirty bastard, he must think we’re soft or something, he thinks we don’t know he’s spying on us. She’s at it an’ all, when she thinks nobody is around.’ Chirped in Ellen emphasising the ‘
she.’
‘Betsy likes to see us with women you know. I can’t act well when I’m doing it with women. It’s so unnatural.’

Lily nodded, ‘I’ve done it a few times. Their money’s as good as anyone else’s, some of them are married with children and all. Is the old hag partial to women? I had no idea.’

‘Yes she is but she daresn’t try it with us. She wouldn’t want to give us the satisfaction of having something on her. And she goes to a house in China Town.’

Lily put her finger to her lips, she could hear Betsy creaking up the stairs, that put an end to their gossip. The next punter was Ellen’s.

‘When this one’s finished, I’ve got something to say to all three of you, I’ve got a surprise for you.’

‘Knowing Betsy, her surprise won’t be in our best interests.’ Thought Ellen as she added the final touches to her make-up. Her regular client who had earned himself the nickname ‘the fat man,’ was here.

She went down the stairs in front of Betsy, who then spirited herself away into the parlour when the door of the back room was safely shut. The quietness of the house with its profusion of gas lights in richly gilded burners, looked perfectly dazzling in contrast to the tawdry goings on. The men could easily have been fooled into thinking that the girl they were seeing was alone in the house. That’s the way it operated, discreetly, peacefully, controlled.

Before the fat man had entered the whore house, Lou was already out of the way on the upstairs landing. She cast a side long look towards the Hale’s bedroom and smirked at the thought of puny Freddie who would now be naked at the wash stand. All she could hear was the gentle splash of the water.

They all felt lucky to have a plumbed in water closet with the promise of a real bath soon. Even some of their client’s demands were a small price to pay for the luxury. None of them ever forgot where they had come from and felt sorry for the poor Magdalens who sold their flea bitten bodies on the streets. Going with all and sundry up against the wall in back alleys and in cheap lodging houses.

The greasy fat man stroked Ellen. ‘You look beautiful today.’ He purred, his ruddy cheeks were turning more red by the minute, he was excited.

Ellen was the dainty one, she was blonde with big blue eyes, with an almost angelic expression. She could at times have a hard set look, especially if she didn’t like a client. She just knew that the fat man was going to be difficult to excite. He had a cringing politeness about him which she found hard to stomach.

The portly man wasted no time whipping off his clothes before bouncing all eighteen stone of his blubber right in the middle of the bed. Ellen was sure that one of these days, the bed would collapse with the strain as it squeaked and creaked under the weight. She stripped off with equal expedience, this wasn’t intimate or drawn out.

‘Just touching you, seeing you is a wonderful sight my darling.’ ‘My darling’ was just too familiar, Ellen felt sick and was glad to see the back of him.

It was now dinner time for the girls and the Hales. To redeem himself, Freddie had bought warm meat pies for everyone from the bakery.

Betsy announced the arrival of young Alice, a replacement for Mary. They all guessed her real plans for the youngster. They resented a fourth and younger girl joining them, it meant another mouth to feed in more ways than one. Flame haired Lily was particularly down in the mouth.

‘Mary’s marrying a lad from Scotland Road, a good Catholic lad for a good Catholic girl.’ Said Betsy with a note of bitterness in her voice, as she thought, ‘Silly bitch. Just think of all the jingle I could have made out of her.’