Street Candy Reflection (standard:Suspense, 4730 words)
Author: TJC	Added: Jul 25 2004	Views/Reads: 3685/2749	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Against the backdrop of a series of unsolved murders, a young, idealistic prostitute learns some hard lessons on the streets of Chicago.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

way of saying that he wanted them working not talking.  Chloe moved off 
down the strip walking in her best sultry jaunt doing what she could to 
attract some business.  She couldn't say she liked selling her body, 
but she didn't hate it either.  Since leaving her home in Wisconsin two 
years earlier she'd managed to make a little money and get paid for 
doing what her stepfather had forced her to do for free.  Andre took 
most of her money of course, but she still managed to put a good share 
away. 

As pimps went, Andre was better than most.  Chloe felt safe with him
watching over her.   Besides, she was special to him and his favorite.  
He told her he'd better not find her using hard drugs because it would 
destroy her innocence and ruin his plans for her.   Yet, he didn't care 
that most of his other girls were on all sorts things ranging from 
heroin to crack.  There was also no denying his violent streak.  The 
previous fall a girl he'd suspected of holding out on him ended up with 
a broken face and left in a ditch.  He was a pimp in every sense of the 
word, but,  at least to Chloe,  he was a kinder, gentler pimp than most 
others. 

Of course Sapphire loved to tell her; “Pimps just steal your money.  You
don't need them.”  Her friend did not work under a pimp and instead was 
her own entity.  She was an exception rather than the rule because most 
women who tried to blow off the controls of the pimps ended up dead.  
However, Sapphire had managed to keep out of harm's way by not working 
all that often and just occasionally appearing on the street.  She was 
different from the other girls in many ways. 

Coming up to a red light at a corner, Chloe struck her best pose, but
the cars just drove by once the light flashed green.  Nobody was 
getting much action tonight.  At twenty, she was in the middle of the 
pack as ages go, many of her sisters of the street were less than 
eighteen and some were more than thirty.  Would she still be hooking at 
that age?  She hoped not.  Sapphire sometimes told her she'd never get 
out of hooking, but then again her friend was often a bit negative. 

Sapphire first came into her life on one of her first nights in the
windy city.  It was at a homeless shelter and an old guy was hassling 
her.  Chloe wasn't sure how to handle it.  The guy was grabbing her ass 
and backing her into a corner.  Suddenly Sapphire was there kicking the 
hell out of the guy.  She'd never forget the sight of the old man 
laying there in pain on the filthy floor.  Since then Sapphire had come 
in and out of her life a few times, sometimes staying around for a few 
nights and at others disappearing for weeks at a time.  She felt that 
her friend was probably a housewife in the suburbs, but whenever she 
asked her about her life she got a quick and hateful “Shut up, bitch.” 

The main thing Chloe learned from Sapphire was street smarts.  Over the
past two years she'd given her sound advice on how to handle johns and 
protect herself.  She even gave her a small, extremely sharp switch 
blade and showed her how to keep it in her shoe so nobody would ever 
see it.  It was something she kept to herself, besides, she'd never use 
it anyway.  More than once a john had beaten her up a little and she 
didn't even consider fighting back.  The most likely scenario in that 
situation would be the john taking it away from her and killing her.  
Now with three murders having taken place she definitely told nobody 
about her weapon for fear of them suspecting her. 

Chloe knew who was killing the johns, but there wasn't a chance of
turning in Sapphire.  Of course she'd never have the guts to ask her 
friend if she was the one, but she knew it none the less.  She was the 
only one she could think of that had the anger to do it and the 
intelligence necessary to get away with it.  Besides, her tempestuous 
friend hadn't been around since the last murder and before that had 
been talking about plans to leave Chicago.  Part of her felt she'd 
never see Sapphire again. 

Walking slowly by an adult book store, Chloe was suddenly aware of a
sleek, black Lexus cruising along side her at a purchaser's pace.   At 
the corner she turned and walked down a side street which had far less 
activity and stopped.  The car pulled up and the passenger window slid 
down.  Inside was a middle-aged but attractive white man.  He was well 
tailored in a dark suit and he had perfect white teeth in his smile. 

“Lookin' for a date, Hon?”  Chloe leaned into the window and could smell
the leather of the tan interior.  The man had short hair and his 
fingernails were perfectly manicured.  There was no chance of this guy 
being a cop. 

“I might be,” he said.   “Are you free?” 

“Free?” Chloe laughed.  “I am never free, but I am worth every penny.” 

The obviously wealthy man laughed.  “A poor choice of words, I grant
you.  How much do you charge?” 

“Depends on what you have in mind.” 

The man smiled and shifted nervously.  The aroma of fine cologne mixed
with the leather inside Chloe's nostrils. 

“How about a blow job for a hundred bucks,” Chloe offered.  It was
normally fifty, but this guy could afford more and she hoped he'd get 
in the mood for a lot more. 

“I'd like that, thank you.” He seemed relieved.  This was probably a
shy, married, businessman.  His gold wedding band gleamed as he gripped 
the wheel. 

Without another word, Chloe got into the car. 

“Where to?” 

“I'll show you,” said Chloe.  She was going to take him to one her
spots.  “This is a beautiful car.” 

“It gets me where I'm going.” 

“I bet it does,” she said in her best sexy voice.  “What's your name,
Hon?” 

“Jeff.” 

A lot of men didn't like giving a name and even when they did it was
usually fake, but Chloe liked having a name, even if it was an alias. 

“I'm Chloe,” she reached across and rubbed his leg.  “I'm glad you
noticed me.” 

The warehouse parking lot that was dark and out of the way.  As soon as
the car was parked, the john puled out his wallet and counted out five 
twenty-dollar bills.  She hadn't even had to give him the song and 
dance about business coming before pleasure.  The crisp bills fit 
nicely into a pocket on the inside of her dress. 

“Thanks, Hon.”  Chloe raised the arm rest and slid over on the seat a
few inches.  Her hand moved up his leg and found what felt like decent 
sized, semi-hard manhood.  “Are you ready, Jeff?” 

“Yes,” he whispered. 

Chloe smiled at him and then turned her attentions down below.  She
unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, reaching inside his bright 
white briefs and caressed his member.  Clean underwear was always a 
welcome sight to a working girl.  He raised himself to help her get his 
pants lowered to the point she needed. 

Jeff was slowly coming to life in her mouth.  Chloe worked him in slow,
wanting him to enjoy this because he had money to spend, and he tasted 
clean and smelled good.  With every movement he became harder and 
harder.  Slowly she reached down and pulled a condom out of her nylons 
and with one hand expertly opened the wrapper.  The john wouldn't even 
notice as she pulled off of him for a second to put the ultra thing 
rubber into her mouth.  However, when she tried to come off she felt 
his hands on her head.  Forcefully she twisted away from his hands and 
swollen cock. 

“Jeff, we're having a good time,” she said.  “But no hands on my head,
okay?”  He muttered an agreement and she went back down on him, getting 
the condom ready inside her mouth.  Once again his hands were forcing 
her down. 

“Shit,” she yelled as she pulled off again.  “I said,” she started to
say but suddenly was in a painful daze.  The punch had come out of 
nowhere. 

Jeff's hands were on her again and her face was slammed into his knee. 
It felt as if her nose exploded.  Before Chloe realized what was 
happening, she was being dragged out of the car and found herself face 
down on the pavement.  Her hands were forced behind her, handcuffed,  
but this was no cop.  The taste of blood was in her mouth and she could 
hardly see for the pain and swelling.  Her head was yanked back and 
what felt like a ping pong ball was shoved into her mouth before tape 
was wrapped around her face.  Fear was pumping through her body as she 
wondered what the hell was happening.  Seconds later she was hoisted up 
and thrown over the hood of the Lexus.  She could feel him spreading 
her legs.  He was laughing at her. 

“Separates nylons, no panties, what else would one expect from a slut.” 

Chloe screamed a muffled cry and tried to breathe out of her swollen
nose.  She was terrified and helpless.  Punches were suddenly raining 
down on her back and arms. 

“Shut up,” he said.  “You got your money!” 

Chloe was beaten, raped and sodomized.  When finished,  Jeff pushed her
back to the pavement and removed the cuffs.    He left without a word. 

As Chloe lay there she couldn't move her arms, agonizing pain was all
she felt as she tried to move.  She lay there crying, trying blow the 
blood out of her nose.  There was no way to tell how long she lay in 
the parking lot before she heard voices.  It was a female.  Sapphire?  
No, it was Mika. 

“Oh Baby,” she said as she began getting the tape off her mouth. 
“Karen, go find Andre!” 

Over the next three and a half weeks, Chloe slowly but steadily
recovered.  The attack left her with a broken nose,  severe swelling on 
her left eye and cheek,  and horrid bruises on her back and arms.  For 
the first week she only got out of bed to shower and use the bathroom.  
After that the pain decreased a little quicker and she began to move 
around a bit.  By far the biggest bruise she'd suffered had been the 
one to her ego.  She never saw it coming and felt stupid.  What would 
Sapphire say?  “Stupid bitch, letting yourself get handcuffed.”  
Hopefully she'd left and wouldn't even hear about it. 

Karen had told her that there had been no more murders since the third
guy.  So it had been nearly six weeks.  Sapphire had split for good, 
she was sure of that now, though part of her hoped the jerk in the 
black Lexus would run into her friend. 

Andre had been wonderful during her recovery.  He'd put her up in his
apartment and took care of her.  He'd brought in a doctor who owed him 
a favor and made sure she took her medication properly.  He kept saying 
he was not going to let her become addicted to pain killers.  Chloe 
felt as if she owed him her life and was determined to show him her 
gratitude.  She prepared a fine steak dinner to surprise him. 

Living with Andre of course meant sleeping with him.  They shared the
bedroom of the large, four room flat, which was furnished with fine 
leather furniture.  Once she was physically able, they became intimate 
and it was almost as she was his wife.  He even held her in his arms. 

Andre arrived home at about six that evening.  He was in khaki slacks
and a red button down silk shirt.  Chloe loved looking at him; his 
chiseled six foot frame, the smooth mahogany skin and his shaved head.  
His eyes were dark brown, almost black,  and contained a mixture of 
strength and kindness that filled her with desire. 

“What have you been up to, sweet cheeks?” Andre flashed his best smile. 
“It smells great.” 

“I hope you like steak,” she called from the kitchen.  “Go and clean up
and I will get it on the table.” Chloe hoped this would go on forever. 

A few minutes later they were sitting down to eat.  Chloe wore her black
dress with spaghetti straps.  She was beginning to look good again, not 
quite all the way back, but close. 

“Chloe this is delicious,” said Andre.  “You have become so domestic. 
It's sweet.  I like it.” 

Chloe reached across the table and caressed his hand.  “You have been so
good to me,  Andre.  I want you to know how much it means to me.” 

“I've liked taking care of you, sweets.  You're my innocent, unaffected
girl.” He took a bite of his meat and continued.  “I'll tell you 
another thing, when I find the guy who did that to you he's going to be 
in the hospital for a year.  Then again, maybe he'll pick up the wrong 
girl and get his nuts cut off.”  	Chloe really didn't  want to think 
about any of that, preferring to smile and let him vent. 

“If I had the money, I'd set up a place like the dagos have.  Customers
come inside and it's better for them and it's better for the bitches.” 

“Like in Vegas, huh?” 

Andre nodded but then looked out the window.  “Unlike Nevada, it's not
legal here.  Need a good place and plenty of money to operate it and 
pay protection costs.” 

“How much money?”  Chloe loved his talking business with her.  This,
like his holding  her, made her feel as she was a real part of his 
life. 

“Shit-loads,” he replied.  “But I'm not desperate enough to get into
that drug trade.  Too much time if you're caught and with all the 
snitches and undercovers you're guaranteed to get pinched.” 

“Andre, I could go back to work any time.” 

Andre shook his head.  “I just need to get my hands on a little cash,
then I could turn that into more.   All it will take are some hard 
choices.” 

“Hard choices?” 

“Never you mind, sweet cheeks,” he assured her.  “Besides, I like having
you around here.” 

“Okay, but I hate to see you worried.” 

“Let's drop it.” 

There was a knock at the door and Andre smiled as he rose to answer it.
A man was there with a package and after being tipped he disappeared 
while Andre came back to the table with a long garment bag.  He was 
beaming with pride.  “I bought you something,” he said.   He slowly 
unzipped the bag and pulled out a stunning, expensive-looking evening 
gown.  It was green with silver trim and it was the most gorgeous dress 
Chloe had ever seen. 

“Try this on for me.” 

“Andre, it's beautiful.” Chloe kissed him and then ducked into the
bedroom to put it on. She'd never owned anything near this exquisite.  
As she gazed at herself in the mirror, he felt every bit the classy 
lady.  When she walked out into the living room, the expression on her 
man's face clearly indicated the same thing. 

That night they made love three times.  Andre held her tight and she
loved being there.  Every time he entered her she quivered and melted 
under his touch.  This was love.  Chloe knew it. 

Two days later, after getting back from the market, Chloe received a
phone call from Andre.  He told he'd be bringing a guest home, 
something he rarely did.  She explained she'd make a nice dinner for 
all three of them, but Andre told her dinner was not necessary and to 
be in her evening gown and looking good when they arrived.    She was 
thrilled.  They were obviously going out on the town and she 
immediately began to prepare herself for the evening. 

Chloe looked herself over and had to admit she was perfect.  The dress
was formed perfectly to her body, her hair was washed, shiny and pulled 
back like she'd seen Audrey Hepburn do in a movie.  Her make-up was 
applied to show a hint of sex appeal but not covering up the innocence 
Andre loved.   She was ready.  The only thing she needed was a matching 
handbag, perhaps she could pick one up later. 

Andre arrived in his white pants and yellow shirt, Chloe loved him in
bright colors.  He smiled at her, obviously liking what he saw as he 
held the door open for a middle-aged white man.  For a fleeting moment 
her heart skipped a beat as she thought it was Jeff from the Lexus.  It 
wasn't.  This man had receding, graying hair and was not nearly as 
attractive as the man who'd beaten and raped her.   He was, however, 
extremely well dressed in a suit, brown from head to toe.  His right 
hand sported two huge gold rings. 

“You look lovely, Chloe.” Andre shut the door. 

“Thank you.” Chloe blushed, wondering what was on for the night. 

“I'll say she's lovely,” the guest said.  His voice was accented, maybe
Italian.  “Andre, you have the taste of a connoisseur.” 

The man was slightly more than six feet tall and had a bearing that made
Chloe feel as she was a piece of meat for sale.  She wasn't prepared to 
be looked at like this while wearing such an upscale outfit.  The 
obvious deference Andre was showing him made her even more 
uncomfortable. 

“Well done,” said the man.  He pulled out a thick white envelope and
tossed it on the table.  Chloe looked at Andre for an explanation but 
her pimp was busy looking at the contents of the envelope and avoiding 
her gaze. 

“Do you know who I am, my lovely creature?”  The guest traced his finger
along her face, but Chloe backed away.  “I'm Santino Boriello.” 

“What?  Andre?” Chloe realized she was being sold.  The Boriello family
was a well-known mob family.  All of her romantic notions of she and 
Andre being in love were being washed away like remnants in a toilet. 

“Chloe,” said Boriello.  “That is your name, correct?”  He put his hands
on her shoulders. 

“Don't touch me,” Chloe spat with an angry but fearful tone.  She moved
toward Andre.  “I thought you liked having me here?  Andre, please....” 


“I told you I had some hard choices to make,” said Andre.  He backed
away from her.    “You belong to him now.  Don't make this hard.  The 
deal is done.” 

“You'll like it with us,” Boriello said behind her.  “We do not allow
our girls to be abused or beaten.” 

Chloe was staring on the floor.  Her world had been ripped to pieces. 

“Her injuries have healed nicely,” Boriello said to Andre.  “We have a
doctor on the payroll for any lingering problems.” 

All of Andre's tenderness and caring were that of a man protecting his
investment.  She was a fool.  This was what he'd been referring to when 
he spoke of his plans for her. 

“Please baby,” she pleaded, still staring at the floor.  “I will work
longer hours.  I will do anything.  I want to stay with you.”  She felt 
tears welling in her eyes. 

“Shut up!” Andre screamed.  “You are a bitch that has been sold.  This
is business and a lot of bitches would jump at this chance to get off 
the streets.  Are you stupid?” 

Humiliation and defeat swept over Chloe like a blanket.  She had no real
choice and fully realized these men were not above killing her.  
Reality hit her as hard as she'd ever been hit by a man. 

“Please go into the bedroom,” Boriello said.  “I need to sample the
merchandise as it were.” 

Chloe said nothing as she turned toward the bedroom.  She was a whore. 
A woman to be used as these men saw fit.  It was a lesson she'd never 
fail to remember the rest of her life, she told herself. 

“We won't be long, Andre,” Boriello said as he shut the door.  Chloe
heard her former pimp call the man “Sir.” 

“Sit on the bed, sweetheart.” 

Chloe sat down and felt a numbing fog coming over her as she saw
Boriello undoing his pants.   She knew what he wanted of course.  A 
small, black  automatic pistol was visible inside his suit, which 
didn't surprise her at all.  She was scared.  She was helpless.  
However, she had no choice, and before she realized it, she heard 
herself saying, “I'd rather kneel.”  Pulling up her gown as she went to 
her knees, she willed herself not to faint.  But she was getting weak.  
Something was wrong. 

“I do like a girl to know her place.” He stood in front of her now,
lowering his pants and revealing a small, limp cock.  “Let's see what 
you can do.” 

Chloe felt sick.  Things were spinning about and she couldn't see. 

“You okay?” Boriello was getting angry.  “Are you sick, baby?” 

“No,” she said calmly.  “I'll be fine.”  She leaned forward and kissed
his stomach, moving down toward his penis.  Her left hand cupped his 
balls.  “I bet I can get this bigger.”  Her right hand moved toward her 
shoe. 

“I know you can, sweetheart,” groaned the Italian.  “Show me.” 

Boriello's scream filled the room as the knife plunged into his scrotum.
 He fell to the floor trying to get the gun out of his coat, but he 
couldn't.  Blood was everywhere, on him, on her and the floor.  She 
stabbed him quickly and furiously.  To end things she shoved the blade 
into his neck and removed his pistol.  He was gurgling as the carpet 
was sopped with his life force. 

Andre crashed into the room with shock and horror on his face.  “You
stupid bitch!” His eyes fixated on the lump of flesh that used to be 
Santino Boriello.  “You have killed us both, Chloe.  Do you know that?” 


“I'm a mess, Andre,” she laughed.  “Blood is a hard stain to remove.” 

“You were killing these men all along, Chloe.” Andre was furious and
moved toward her.  “It was you?  You stupid fucking whore!” 

She fired the gun three times, using the pillow as a silencer.  Andre
fell back against the wall and slid to the floor, his eyes wide pen.  
“The name is Sapphire, ass-hole.” 

Ignoring the carnage around her, Sapphire threw the gun on the bed and
peeled off her soaked gown.  She went into the bathroom to shower and 
clean up.  Seeing her reflection in the mirror, she berated Chloe. 

“He was right.  You are stupid.  Stupid ass street candy.” She spit into
the mirror.  “Thinking you were his lover.  Letting that other jerk-off 
get cuffs on you.  Did you think I would come out and take it in the 
ass for you?”   Sapphire started the shower water before turning back 
to the reflection.  “Maybe it's time I took over for a while.  I'm sick 
of cleaning up your messes.” 

After showering and freshening up, Sapphire put on the short yellow
dress,  packed some other clothes, fit her clean blade into her shoe, 
and decided to keep Boriello's gun.  Finding the envelope on the living 
room table she opened it up and counted out seventy-five $100 bills. 

“Your love was worth seventy-five hundred bucks, Chloe.  Stupid little
girl.” 

The money would come in handy, thought Sapphire.  It was high time she
left Chicago and headed west.  Arizona maybe, or San Diego.  However, 
first there was a little business to take care of with a man who called 
himself Jeff.  She'd noticed the Lexus had a sticker for staff parking 
at Northwestern University.  Chloe never saw it, but she did.  Before 
leaving town, she would pay him a little visit. 

Sapphire never looked back as she left Andre's apartment.  She strolled
down the hall and took the elevator down.  Outside the weather was warm 
and she took a deep breath as she gazed at the lights of the city.  
With a confident stride, she walked along the street and felt as if she 
was the queen of her element.   In seconds she disappeared into the 
night to which she belonged. 

TC 


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