Tag: prostitutes

Those judging biddies

Sofie secured her hat with one hand, lifted her skirt with the other and continued running toward Sunset Station. Her legs burned and her black-laced boots were too small, crimping her toes. There was no choice. She had to get to there before the…

Wrong place at the right time?

If I weren’t so frightened, it would, or could be, comical. I felt plunked into the pages of a lecherous novel. Greta and Lillie wore corsets that barely covered their nipples. Their legs shimmered inside shiny silk stockings attached with garters. Trying to be…

A Poisoned Past

The door, closed, Sofie could hear Meta resuming the piano, another ragtime piece, people clapping. Pacing the room a few times, she downed a glass of whiskey, the whiskey she had taken from the shining closet when no one was looking. Her mind was…

Defending Prostitution (or attempting to)

  Aunt Amelia winked. “And Meta? Will you still be joining me for the meeting on Friday night?” “Of course, Aunt Amelia. I’m looking forward to it.” How could I forget one of the main reasons I came to San Antonio? “What meeting?” Giovanni…

Miss Proper meets Crude

At some point during the evening, Sadie had removed every stitch of her nightclothes. I turned away while she threw on a blue peignoir. As we Descended the stairs together, I secretly wondered what it would be like to sway my hips down a…

Firing Squad

The officer turned to Sadie. “Miss, get up now. We need to ask you some questions. City Hall is only a short walk.” Sadie gripped the edge of the table as if nailed there. “But I didn’t do anything wrong. I found this the…

Meta pretends she’s a prostitute

His lips mashed together into a thin line. “Hey, wait just a confounded minute. Did you say…? They didn’t hire you to, you know…” Retaliation. “Yes! I got a job there, and I know I will love it. The clients can be quite challenging….

A cranky prostitute

Sadie threw her arms around me and buried her face in my shoulder. “I’m so grateful you’re here. Maybe it’s time for me to go out. I think Miss Fannie won’t mind as long as I’m with you. I could take you to Brackenridge…

Caught red (yellow)-handed

    “My God, it’s Marcy’s!” The temperance union president stared rage into Sadie’s eyes. The restaurant became silent. No clinking of cutlery, no chattering of women. Sadie frowned and glanced up at Mrs. Stoddard. “Excuse me?” “I said that’s my Marcy’s scarf. I…

She Mopes Loud!

  I tried to ignore the crash from upstairs—the third one now. Reba shook her head, her smile fading. “She still up there caterwauling and hurling things ’cross her room. Poor chil’ don’t never seem to get a leg back up ’fore it drops…