When the European summer vacation began in earnest, the Reeperbahn swelled with tourists. Beatles fans on the pilgrimage thronged to the Star Club twenty years too late and couples visited the acrobatic sex shows at the 'Colibri' or 'Salambo'. More importantly buses from all over Western Europe stopped on the wide boulevard and disgorged scores of male passengers to be sucked into the ErosCenter’s maelstrom of commercial sex.
The prostitutes barely lasted five minutes on the concrete floor before a customer dragged them upstairs. The small cubicles within the St. Pauli hotels were turning over rooms every thirty minutes. Money and fluids were being exchanged at a record pace and no one could be happier than the pimps and few women were working harder than SS Tommy's new girl. The crimson light accented the long red hair and painted her pale skin a lurid tone to allure men like moths to a fire. Only several days into the game she was every inch the whore, but having been transformed into a star she was picking her customers with disdain for them all and this haughty behavior was infuriating SS Tommy.
When the redhead refused to accompany an obese fisherman upstairs, SS Tommy rushed over and asked, "What was wrong with him? Too fat?"
"I've been with more fat men in the last week than I can count and as long as they are on the bottom I have no problem with them"
"Then what is it this time?" SS Tommy demanded.
"He smells like he bathed in herring before he came here." Vella regarded the man with disgust, while the other whores of SS Tommy's string snickered at what she had said. The blonde pimp seized her arm. His fingers sank through her flesh and she cringed in pain, as he warned, "I don't want to hear you ever say, "No." again. Do you understand me?"
Having heard what happened to bad girls, she nodded her surrender and SS Tommy told the fisherman, if he wanted Vella that he would have to pay three times the going rate.
"Three times?"
The blonde pimp lifted the redhead's silver nightie and said, "Where will find a girl like this. Just feel her skin. Soft as a peach and tight as a baby. She has only been here two nights."
"But she said I stink."
"My friend, you do stink." SS Tommy ridiculed him, saying, "I thought two things smell like fish and one of them is fish, but you make three. Next time you come to the Eroscenter, take a bath and use soap. An industrial one."
"I don't know."
"You don't know? You upset my girl and now you are upsetting me."
"Sorry." He agreed to SS Tommy's price.
The pimp patted the redhead on the rear end, as the fisherman dragged her upstairs. "You keep this up and you will be the number one earner tonight."
Two hours later Vella was dead on her feet. The garters holding up the sheer stockings bit into her thighs like bear traps and the sky-high stiletto heels crushed her toes like a vise. Her lips were bruised from seven blowjobs and after the eight fucks her vagina felt like it had been pummeled by sandpaper cocks.
Most of her clients had been quick, though the last one had taken forever to get off. Thankfully the old veteran, Sulka, had taught the novice the old trick of stroking the man's skin between the base of his cock and anus, so when Vella had reached down and scrapped her nails on this region with a milk maiden's gentleness, the trick had cried out and came instantly inside his condom.
Afterwards he had said she was the best and given her a big tip.
She had told him anytime and asked his name, which she had forgotten before it was out of his mouth. The money was all she could remember about these men, although their dank musty smell seemed to be indelibly permeate her flesh.
Vella leaned against the wall and prayed for the night to end.
A whistle shrilled from the corner, which was SS Tommy's way of telling the women another busload of men was entering the sex den.
"So how do you like it here." Sulka asked, massaging the redhead's knotted shoulders.
Vella leaned back against the older woman's breasts.
Sulka exhaled the smoke of a cigarette, then nuzzled the young girl's neck.
"The fucking I can handle, but the blowjobs." Vella grimaced, then trembled, as the old whore expertly struck a vein of sensitivity. Sulka smiled, thinking soon she would have her way with the newcomer, but for tonight it was all work and no play.
"I would love to say you get a taste for them, but those uncircumcised penises are like hundred year-old pieces of cheese. And men joke about the way our pussies smell. Sorry, Schartzie, I see an old friend."
Sulka blew her a kiss and strutted over to a well-dressed businessman.
"I will see you later." It was good to have a friend here, then Vella spotted several men floating closer and sagged against the wall. It had only been five minutes since her last trip upstairs.
Before anyone could proposition her, Vella went over to SS Tommy, who was counseling several new fish about their choices. Upon seeing the redhead, SS Tommy put his arm around her and announced, "Vella is the best. No one is softer.
She blushed, hearing about her most intimate parts described in such a fashion before these men. The rest of SS Tommy's stable were glad the new girl was in the dubious position of his favorite girl and bet how many men the new girl could take during an evening. She had already beaten most of their expectations.
"Who will take her now?" SS Tommy demanded, recognizing several faces in the crowd as long-time customers with a preference for new girls. There was nothing he liked better than an auction to the highest bidder.
"Tommy," Vella whispered in the pimp's ear.
"What?" He was annoyed she had interrupted his spiel.
"I'm not saying no. If you want me to go, I will, but I could use a couple of minutes' rest," Vella said, licking at her chapped lips.
"You need a break?" SS Tommy told the men to hold on and he would be right back, then hauled Vella over to the corner. The pimp harshly explained that her rest came, when no one wanted her, then saw the exhaustion on her face. "Maybe I have been running you too hard. I have to teat you with care. You are new. Not like Sulka. She can handle anything. Normally I never let anyone rest during a shift, but you have been very good tonight. Already you have eleven men and the night is still young. Did you know the record is thirty-three?"
SS Tommy caressed her cheek like he would a girlfriend.
"No, I didn't." Vella groaned inwardly.
SS Tommy glanced at the thinning circle of men. He spotted two regulars, who liked to split a girl between them. He indicated they were next, but would have to wait. A good businessman had to be aware of his clientele's tastes as well as the limits of his workers. The blonde Zuhalter gave a key to Vella and said," I tell you what. You go up to my special room and rest for fifteen minutes."
Vella's heart lightened to think she had a little time off.
SS Tommy kissed her on the lips, then went over the brothers to finalize the deal fort the ménage-a-trois, so Vella could make up for whatever time she had been off the floor.
SS Tommy watched the redhead wearily walk up the stairs. The short-time double date would be a surprise, but one to which Vella would have to become accustomed. He would later take her out to the Schlacterei, the all-night steak house next to the city's slaughterhouse, then bring her to the Hotel Atlantic. It would pass for a romantic evening, except the bill would come from her evening's earnings.
Several minutes later SS Tommy remarked to himself that he hadn't seen Cali all evening. He scanned the floor of the Eroscenter for the black man. 'Nigger' Cali was nowhere in sight and his stable of girls were taking advantage of this uncustomary lapse in vigilance by gathering in clumps to gossip about the evening. He could not have left the Eroscenter on such a busy night, so he had to be in his office. SS Tommy could have taken matters into his own hands, but their laziness was a good excuse to find Cali.
SS Tommy crossed the floor of the Eroscenter. The blinds of Cali's office were drawn and the door was shut. Someone was inside with Cali and SS Tommy decided to find out the identity of the visitor.
Five minutes later he smiled upon seeing Stivan Klein exit from the office. The Jew only made business calls. SS Tommy sneered a greeting to Hamburg's biggest moneylender, then pondered why Cali required the Jew's services.
Something was up and Cali had not spoken about expansion against Hamburg's other pimps in Hamburg. This meeting with the Jew had to be connected with Kurt Oster's and Nigger Cali's secret deal. There was only one way to discover, if his hunch was right, and he entered the office without knocking.
The black hole of an automatic pistol muzzle greeted him and Cali's left arm protectively encircled several hundred thousand Deutschmarks on the table. SS Tommy lifted his hands and said, "And I thought I was having a good night."
"It's been all right," Cali answered defensively. The blonde pimp had been snooping around too much lately and his barging into the office was no accident and Cali demanded brusquely, "What do you want?"
"Your girls are taking a break." SS Tommy estimated the money to be three hundred thousand DMs. To pay that off, Cali's two-hundred girls would have to work full shifts three nights in a row without ever being idle or any of the other partners getting their share. "I thought you might want to know."
"Thank you very much." Cali put the money into the safe. "I will be out in a few minutes. Tell those lazy sluts that for me."
"No problem." SS Tommy backed out of the room.
Cali locked the door, then sat on the edge of his desk. If it had been anyone else, then he would have been concerned that they might say he was skimming their profits, but with SS Tommy it was worse
Cali was blocking the blonde Zuhalter's further progress within the organization. His five-year reign over the Reeperbahn had been longer than most heavyweights retained their belt. He admired few men more than Rocky Marciano. The heavyweight champ had quit before anyone could dethrone him. Cali wished he could be so lucky, for none of his predecessors had retired alive, but Cali intended on being the first.
He shut the safe and swung the dial. The gun was returned to the desk drawer. The way his right-hand man had stared at the money reminded Cali of someone planning a robbery. He would have to keep a closer eye on SS Tommy. Eventually someone would stumble on the trail of their activities and either want in or take it all for themselves, which was right up SS Tommy's alley.
Opening the curtains he surveyed the floor of the Eroscenter and calculated the night's intake with an interest bordering on obsession. While the pimp understood having to deposit larger and larger sums in the Swiss bank account, the launching of Kurt's scheme had siphoned off every pfennig he could afford and more. As good a friend as Kurt was, this could all be a scam and one that would cost him dearly. In his business it was always better to trust no one, if you wanted to stay alive.
Poking his head out the window, Cali saw that SS Tommy was right. His women were loafing. While he had much more important matters on his mind, Cali motioned for two loitering whores to come over to him.
They both stubbed out their cigarettes on the hard pavement and sauntered lewdly to the window, hoping a customer would drag them away from this impromptu conference with the 'King of the Reeperbahn'.
Unfortunately the Eroscenter was experiencing a temporary lull in the evening. Everyone within earshot cringed, as Cali harangued the two slackers. Cali was angry and all the women knew what that meant. He warned them that this had better be the last time they shirked their duties. To make a point, he slapped one girl on her ass, then ordered them to get back to work.
It was time to redouble their 'looking busy' and they approached every loose men under the tent. Soon business was back to normal. The eager customers and curiosity-seekers were being steered to the whores by the pimps. The men and women went upstairs and money came back down. Several women shrieked with glee, as a screaming prostitute chased a naked man from the hotel. Cali had spent thousands of nights like this in the Eroscenter and had seen it all too many times before .
Most of them passed without a problem.
Other times he had to break an arm, protect a girl from a drunken soldier, or beat her for stealing money. When he first started this business, he loved the sex, the money, and the power, since they were the epitome of most men's fantasies. Now all he wanted was to be as far away as possible.
Maybe if Petra had not been beaten, he would feel the same as before. Cali had told Kurt to warn Petra, but she had been too headstrong to give up her crusade to organize the whores. When the rest of his organization voted to teach her a lesson, Cali had to go along with his associates. Any sign of weakness towards women on his part would have meant his doom as well.
One night Petra had gone to speak with the women down at the Fischmarkt and she had wandered the fish market until three men in ski masks had stepped out of the shadows.
Cali had watched, as SS Tommy and Maserati Klaus stomped Petra. For Maserati Klaus it had been a job, but SS Tommy prided himself for beating Petra Wessel to a bloody pulp. Only his intercession prevented her death. After Mack Die Alte and SS Tommy left the scene, Cali called the police on his mobile phone and reported a Strafanzeige, telling the police of a woman being beaten. When they asked his name, he hung up.
Tears had blinded him, as he had driven away. It had been years, since he had cried and afterwards that his career as a pimp was nearly over, though on the Reeperbahn, they only retire you with a bullet or a knife. Somehow he had to get out of this, in order to become an old man. The older the better and the only way he could achieve that his burying 'Nigger Cali', since his enemies would want his next reincarnation just as dead as his present one and everyone here like the dead better than the living.
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