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Deadwood

"A somewhat true story of the Gem Saloon, Dakota Territories, 1877."

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I stood outside the louvered, swinging doors of the notorious Gem Saloon, taking in the sights and sounds of the establishment I was about to enter. Al Swearengen, the well-known owner and proprietor of the Gem, was holding court behind the bar—a sawed-off was always within his reach. Dan Doherty and Johnny Burns, Al’s all-purpose men, stood ready to accomplish anything Al wanted, from serving drinks in busy times to beating a patron senseless, if Al so instructed.

Tricksie, Al’s Chief Whore-in-Charge, was working the room, making sure the girls were motivating the miners to buy drinks and take them upstairs for a poke. Motivation was mostly touches, kisses, breasts put briefly on display—whatever was necessary to part the miners from their coin. Toothless Tommy was banging out tunes on the seen-better-days upright. Miners were dancing with the whores.

Four men were sitting at a table near the entrance where a nameless whore, on her knees, was blowing one of them as the others cheered her on. Yup, just another Saturday night I thought, as I pushed through and made my way to the bar, spying BettyJo on the dance floor with a miner who could not afford to poke her. Knew she would soon be at my side.

Al brought me a beer and a gill of rye, my usual, as I laid coins on the bar.

“Hey, Charlie, glad you could make it tonight. The place is jumping. The prize fight will be starting in about an hour. You don’t want to miss that. Get your bet in early! New guy, Bendigo Thompson, is fighting. Put your money on him. Hey Tricksie, get BettyJo over here for Charlie. Fer chrissakes, can’t you see the man’s in need of female company.”

“She’ll find her way to me. I know she saw me come in. Let her give the miner a bit of fun.”

“Fuck that! Dances are only ten cents. You’re gonna take her for the night, right? Drop a few hundred. You know she’s worth it. Best little fucker in town.”

Laughing, I said, “Al, you could sell dirt to the miners if you packaged it right. All your girls are the ‘best little fuckers in town,’ right? Besides, I need a bit of lubricating. Running that mine is gonna break me, body and soul.”

Right about then I felt a warm, soft body begin to press into mine as her hand slid over my right hip and began teasing my johnson. I didn’t need to look to see who that was.

“Ah, BettyJo... You’re a salve to my old bones.”

“Hopefully, also for your soul. What's more, you’re not old, Charlie. You’re just workin' yourself near to death.” Then, moving her lips to my ear, she whispered, ”Get me a bottle of Al’s good champagne and yourself a bottle of rye. We’ll spend the night in my room. You know I’ll make a new man of you by morning.”

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“From the sound of it, there’s a number of men being remade right now.”

Every few minutes there was a woman’s scream from upstairs. I was never sure if it was a whore faking her pleasure to convince her john he was fantastic or a scream of pain caused by a john taking his belt to her. Al never cared as long as his whore did not get severely injured. If that happened, Doherty or Burns were sent to mete out a harsh beating as a lesson to the miscreant and others who might harbor similar intentions.  

Al put a glass of champagne on the bar while taking some of my coin. “Thanks, Al,” BJ said, turning to me. “So what’s it gonna be, big guy? You gonna let me bring some pleasure into your life?”    

Only a thin, well-worn cotton frock covered her. With rock-like nipples poking forth, the outline of ample breasts visible, how could I resist? “You’re sure a beautimous sight BJ, good enough to eat.”

Grabbing my hand and turning, she said, “Well let’s git upstairs so you can put your mouth to work!”

I held back long enough to gather up the rye and champagne Al had quietly left for us.

“Lead me to paradise, sweet thing.”

As she preceded me to her room, I thought about her, our, past and future. I knew her story. Her husband brought her from back east to make their fortune in the gold field. It worked for a few months, until he was killed in a rock fall. She couldn’t manage the mine, sold it for pennies. Destitute, she did what other women were forced to do, become one of Al’s whores.

They all got free room, board and medical care, for what it was... For that, he kept their earnings in a “special account” with the promise they would get their money “one day soon.” For most, the real story was he used them up and discarded them with a pittance of what they’d earned for him. I was determined it would not happen to her.

But Al was a hard taskmaster to beat. Girls had died trying to get away from him. The thing was, I only sold part of my gold to Al—the main gold buyer in town. I kept the majority hidden in the mountains, ready for the day when I would just disappear—hopefully with BettyJo.

Her door closing brought me back to reality. Her shift dropped to the floor as she turned to me. Her curly-haired, black puff-ball stood out against her alabaster skin. Undressing me faster than I could do myself, we dropped to the bed.

Her warm mouth engulfed mister johnson. I sighed and lay back against the headboard, letting her work and hoping I was more than just another john. This was to be the night I’d tell her of my plans for us, if there was an “us” in our future. But first to soothing my needs and satisfying hers. Only time would tell our future...

 

 

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