From: an349772@anon.penet.fi
Reply-To: an349772@anon.penet.fi
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: EBS:  The Pussy Show  [11/25]
Date: Wed, 20 Dec 1995 02:56:41 UTC
Organization: Anonymous forwarding service
Message-ID: <030327Z20121995@anon.penet.fi>



This is a service of the Erotic Broadcast Service!  The following story is not

written by me nor do I agree/diagree with its contents.  I am simply posting

this story so that concenting adults who might not find this disagreable will

enjoy it.  As such, the author retains all rights to the story and all areas of

its publication.  If anyone who has written a better legal disclaimer, I would

appreciate it very much if you would send me a copy to use with my postings.



"Please continue reading ONLY IF YOU'RE ABOVE 18 YEARS OLD and reading this story

does not break any kind of law in your community/city/state/country."  Thanks. :-}



++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

                         THE PUSSY SHOW

                              by

                      Emerson Laken-Palmer



                            Part 11.



  Most of them were going to the back of the long line to pay

another five and see the show again!  In all my years in carny, I

had never seen so many of the chumps do that before!

  And so it went.  On into the night.  Fifteen packed shows, one

right after another, until the carny closed at 11:00.

  During the last show, just before closing, when all the chumps

had drifted away, Nick and Steve walked up to the tent and stood,

next to me, by the flap.

  "How's Cookie doing?"  Steve asked, in a concerned voice, as I

stood there with my change apron bulging from the obscene amount

of five dollar bills I had collected.

  "She's holding up," I said.  "Seems to be doin' better than she

was the first show..."

  "Everybody's talkin' about it," Nick said excitedly, taking hold

of the tent flap with both of his hands and pushing his face toward

the crack.

  I don't know why, but I grabbed his hands and pulled them from

the canvas, just as he was going to peer inside.

  "What the hell are you doing?" he asked me testily.

  "You don't want to look in there." I said.

  "Yes I do," Nick insisted, pulling his wrists from my hands and

grabbing the tent flap again as we heard the collective gasp from

the men inside.

  Steve grabbed his younger brother's collar now and pulled him

roughly back.  "No you don't, Nick," he said sternly, looking

directly into his face. "Cookie's doing this for every one of us.

She's like our own little sister.  You don't want to embarrass her,

or her brother, any more than I would."

  Nick bowed his head and then he looked at me.  "Sorry Jack," he

said now, "I guess I just wasn't thinkin'."  And then he added,

sarcastically, "I know YOU never took a peek, through the flap, at

my sister Carol's pussy..."

  Steve roughly pushed Nick away from the tent now, causing him to

lose his footing and fall backwards against the podium.

  "Our sister's a slut, Nick," Steve said angrily, but not loud

enough to disturb the show. "Everybody knows that!  Plus she's a

God Damn lezzie!  She's probably out there somewhere, right now,

suckin' pussy!  What the hell difference does it make?  God, you

can be such an asshole!"

  Now Betty's voice came from inside the tent, "Gentleman, that

concludes the pussy show!  Now, if you would please file past the

stage and out the side entrance..."

  Steve hauled his brother up and dusted him off and the two of

them walked away, without looking back at me, as the throng of men

started filing out the side of the tent.

  "Thank you for comin' to our pussy show," I heard Cookie say, and

I started walking toward Trooper's trailer to turn in the collected

cash.



  When I stepped from the Trooper's trailer, and started walking

in the cool night air, I felt a large hand wrap tightly around my

arm and stop me.

  Scared shitless, I spun around and was looking up at the face of

Officer Sharker, the man from the Youth Bureau, who had questioned

me this morning.

  "Hi Jack," he said, smiling at me.

  "God!" I said, trying to make my heart stop pounding and catch

my breath. "Officer Sharker!  I thought you were some asshole

tryin' to roll me!"

  He laughed that humorless, icy laugh of his, and then he said,

"Call me Sharky, kid.  Everybody does."

  He started walking me, by the arm, away from the trailers and

over to the big electrical truck.  I could hear my heart pound and

our feet whooshing on the dewy grass as we went.

  "What's going on?" I asked him, feeling uneasy about the way he

was acting toward me.

  Reaching the side of the truck, he turned me to him, not

releasing my arm, and said, "I caught your little pussy show

tonight.  Three times.  Didn't you see me?"

  It was the damndest thing.  But I hadn't.  I wasn't looking at

the faces of the men.  I was too busy worrying about Cookie and

taking the money.

  "No," I answered.





                            Part 12.



  "Funny..." he said.  "Anyway, Jack....  It turns out that little

Cookie was born in 1959.  That makes her what, Jack?"  I saw his

rust-colored eyebrows raise, drawing a response from me.

  "Fifteen?"

  "That makes her a minor, Jack.  You too, for that matter.  Do you

know what that means?"

  "No."

  "It means that you all are in some really deep, and stinking

shit, Jack.  It means that I'm going to have to put all of you

sons-of-bitches under arrest and close down this fucking circus.

It means I'm going to have to impound all of this property.  And

that your dad and your boss are going to do some long, hard time

in a Kentucky state prison, Jack."  He squeezed my arm hard now.

"That's what it means."

  I don't mind telling you, I was scared.  I was really scared.

So scared in fact that, as I stood there, I was afraid that I was

going to actually piss in my pants.

  "P.. p.. prison?" I asked.

  "For them," he said.  "For you and your sister, a Youth

Correctional Facility.  Until you're 21, Jack."

  "Officer Sh.. Sharker..."

  "Call me Sharky, Jack."

  "Sharky... "

  "Are you scared, Jack?  Does all this scare you?"

  "Ye.. yes!"

  "That's what I'm gonna' have ta' do, Jack.  That's my duty.

That's what the law dictates I do.  You broke the law, Jack.  You

and your family shit on the laws of the State of Kentucky, Jack."

  "Please, Mister.  We're just tryin' to make a livin'.  My dad and

Trooper, they didn't know Cookie was going to be in the show.  The

regular girl didn't show...  We had to do something."

  "Yeah.  Sometimes that's the way it is, Jack.  I'm glad you said

that.  Sometimes you have to do something to keep something really

bad from happening.  You understand how that works, don't you,

Jack?"

  "Yes.  Sure I do.  That's what I was sayin'...."

  "Suppose there was a way out of this, Jack?  Just suppose that

there was something you could do to keep your parents and your

friends and your sister out of jail and keep your little carnival

making money and on the road..."

  "I'd do it!  I'd do anything!"

  "Now that's what I want to hear, Jack.  That's talk coming from

a kid who's smart.  A kid who knows how the world works."

  Sharky let go of my arm now and smoothed the sleeve of my rumpled

shirt.

  "And just suppose, Jack... as an added bonus... not only would

I forget any charges against your family and friends... and not

only would I get your dad and your boss and that big, dumb, Polack

friend of yours out of jail free... but that I could also put five

hundred dollars in your pocket?"

  The nervousness suddenly fell away from me and I broke into a

smile.

  Sharky saw it and smiled too.  "That's what I want to see, Jack.

I think we can work something out."

  "Sure we can, Sharky.  No problem!  What do you need?"

  Sharky looked around and then back at me.  "What I need, Jack,

is something very special.  Something only you can arrange for me."

  "Anything.."

  "I've been around, Jack.  I know carny people.  I know how they

are.  I know that they're different from all other people and that

they don't look at things the same way, or have the same morals,

that regular people do.  They can get you special things.  Special

favors..."

  "What?  Just tell me."

  "I was at that show tonight, Jack.  I saw what was on display.

I want that, Jack."

  "Cookie?  You want to fuck Cookie?"

  "No, Jack.  That wouldn't be right.  I couldn't do that.  I

wouldn't do that."

  That was a relief.  Man, I would never pimp my sister!  Not to

THIS guy!

  "I just want to see it, Jack.  I want to see Cookie getting

fucked."





                            Part 13.



  I shook my head.  "Cookie ain't like that, Sharky."

  "She's not?  I saw her, Jack.  She's a carny girl.  Struttin'

around on that stage and letting everybody have a peek up her

wahzoo...  Don't patronize me, Jack, and tell me that she won't put

on a private little fuck show for me."

  Now I was thinking fast.  Would she?  If she knew?  If she knew

about prison and losing the show?  And getting dad and Trooper and

Glen out of jail?  She did (what she did tonight) to save the

carnival...  I guess she would, if I pressed her.  If I told her

the situation.  What choice would she have?  What choice did any

of us have?  Sharky held all the aces.

  "Alright," I said.  "I think I can arrange it.  If you let me do

it my way and talk to her first.  But with who?  Who do you want

to see fuck her?"

  "With YOU, Jack.  I want to watch YOU fuck her for me."

  "Me?"

  "Yeah, Jack."

  "That's sick!" I said, but then I wished I hadn't said that. I

didn't want to make him mad.

  But he just smiled at me and said, "Yeah, it is, Jack.  But let

me level with you.  Truth be known, I AM one sick fucker!  That's

what makes it worth five hundred bucks to me, Jack.  I'd really get

off watching a real brother and sister fuck.  Especially a brother

with a muscular physique like yours pumping it to a sister as young

and cute and sexy as your Cookie is."

  This was crazy!  HE was crazy!  But what was I supposed to do?

  "When?  Where?"

  "Tonight, Jack.  I've got it all set up.  I've rented a room at

a motel, near the new bypass, off the interstate."  He reached into

his shirt pocket and took out a scrap of paper and handed it to me.

"It's all there, Jack.  Instructions on what to do and how to get

there."

  "But what about Dad and Glen and Trooper?"

  Sharky laughed that cold laugh again.  "You're a sharp one, Jack.

Nothing gets by you, does it?"  He patted my shoulder.  "That's a

done deal, Jack.  All I have to do is make a phone call.  I'll do

that tonight.  As soon as you and her are done.  You can have your

dad and your friends back here before daybreak."

  "Alright," I told him, "you got a deal."

  I went to our trailer but it was empty.  Cookie wasn't there.

  I took what I needed from the cigar-box, in the compartment, and

took off to find her.

  She was with Leon and Gus and Laura, standing in front of the

food both and drinking a Coke as they closed up.  She was still

wearing the tight, black skirt and the white blouse but she was

bare-footed now like Cookie always was.  The outfit still looked

sexy, but without the heels, and with her standing there in her

bare feet, she just looked like my kid sister playing dress up.

  "Hi Jackie," she said, smiling at me as I walked up to her.  "God

that was a night!  I can't believe I got through it!"

  "Yeah," I said.  "You did great."

  "Yes she did," Gus said, through the window, in his thick,

Italian accent.  "Cookie save show.  We love our Cookie.  She good

girl.  She always good girl."

  Cookie smiled back at him, taking in the adulation that the whole

troop must have been dishing out to her since closing time.

  I took her arm and led her away from the food booth and the

prying ears.

  "What is it, Jack?" she asked, sensing something was wrong.

  I stood her in front of me and placed my hands on her soft

shoulders.  "Remember that cop from this morning?  The one that was

asking all the questions at your booth?"

  "Sharker?"

  "Yeah."

  "What about him?"

  "He nabbed me tonight, just after the show closed and I turned

in the cash."

  Cookie's face grew concerned as she looked up at me.  "Nabbed

you?  What do you mean?  Are you in trouble?"

  "We're all in trouble, Cookie."

  "Why?"  What?"

  "This Sharker guy saw you in the show.  He knows you're fifteen

and he says he can make trouble.  BIG trouble for all of us."





                            Part 14.



  "Oh, Jack!" I saw her pretty features grimace.  "Ain't we in

enough trouble?  Now there's more?"

  "Listen, Cookie," I squeezed her shoulders to let her know this

was important.  "This Sharker cop... Sharky.  He isn't such a bad

guy.  He's willing to make a deal."

  "A deal?"

  "Yeah.  A deal where he'll forget about you being under age and

won't close the show and impound the carnival and will even get Dad

and Trooper and Glen out of jail... tonight.  But we gotta' do

something for him.  Something that won't be easy and something that

we won't like."

  "Oh God, Jackie!  Does he want us to steal something?"

  "No, Cookie.  Nothing like that."

  "Then what?  What does he want us to do?"

  "He wants to watch you and me... together."

  Cookie's face wrinkled in puzzlement.  "Watch you and me?  Watch

you and me what?"

  How was I going to break this to her?  What was I supposed to

say?

  "He wants to watch you and me get it on."

  Cookie just stood there, looking into my face.  "Get it on?  What

do you mean?"

  "Shit, Cookie.  This isn't easy for me to say..."

  "What?"

  "He wants to watch us make love."

  Cookie's head and shoulders snapped back and her features

contorted as if she had just tasted something bitter.  "Make love?"

Her mouth hung open now in astonishment.

  "Yeah.  He's some kinda' pervert, Cookie.  He wants to see a

brother and sister do it with each other while he watches."

  "Oh God, Jackie..."  She started breathing hard now as I held her

in place.  "I could never.....  Oh God, Jackie.  Really?"

  "It's a sick world, Cookie," I said, shaking my head. "But we

gotta' get Dad and Trooper and Glen out of jail and we can't lose

the carnival!"

  Cookie turned her face from me, staring off into the dark night

and thinking.

  "It could be worse," I told her.  "And we don't have to like

it..."

  Cookie stepped back and pulled herself away from my grasp and

then she looked at me with her eyes blazing and her fists on the

curves of her hips.  "You'd actually do it, wouldn't you?" she said

loudly and accusingly.

  "Cookie!  What CAN we do?  What do YOU suggest?"

  Her angry look dissolved, as she thought about it, and then her

head dropped, making her blond hair drape around her reddened

cheeks.

  "I don't know," she said to the ground, her ingenuity and resolve

leaving her body with a long, deep breath.



  Fifteen minutes later, we were in Leon's old car and heading for

the motel.  I told Leon that I was taking Cookie to the White

Castle for a reward.  He knew how much she loved those little

hamburgers (especially with extra pickles).  I didn't think that

there were any of them as far south as Louisville anyway but Leon

didn't know that.

  As I drove down the finished portion of the new Interstate

bypass, looking for the exit Sharky had marked on his little map,

I noticed that my sister was being very quiet next to me.  This was

unheard of for Cookie.

  I glanced over at her and saw that she was biting her fingernail

and just looking vacantly out the windshield, her eyes glassed over

in thought.

  When she noticed that I was looking at her, she shot me a quick

look of disdain and rocked in her seat, tugging the hem of her

short, black skirt down over her thighs and crossing her legs.

  Man, that made me feel suddenly dirty, as I pulled off onto the

exit.

  How could this be? I asked myself.  How did I get myself into

this?  Here I was, taking my kid sister to a motel to have sex with

her and she knew it.

  The exit was actually the end of the finished freeway.  There

was heavy equipment and barricades and warning signs, letting you

know that the freeway was under construction beyond this point.





                            Part 15.



  As I drove up the ramp to the top of the embankment, the little

motel was right ahead across the side road, next to a Chevron

station that was dark and closed for the night.

  I parked the car behind the gas station, just as Sharky's note

had instructed me to do.

  Cookie emitted a frustrated moan as I turned off the engine.

  I took the key from the ignition and turned to her.  "What's the

matter?"

  She raised one leg onto the seat and twisted her body toward me,

her face a mask of anxiety.  "I don't know if I can go through with

this, Jackie.  I really don't."

  I put my hand on her shoulder and she let me.  "Cookie.  We've

been over this.  What else can we do?  This guy Sharky means what

he says.  He's got us where he wants us.  I've talked to him.

You've seen him.  We ain't gonna' get nowhere crossin' this guy."

  "I'll just sit there, Jackie," she said, folding her arms and

summoning her defiant nature.  "I'll just sit there and do

nothing."

  "Cookie.  Believe me, that ain't gonna' work with this guy.

You're just gonna' make things worse..."

  "But, Jackie..."

  "Listen to me!" I said firmly, taking both of her hands in mine.

"I suggest we play along.  I think it's best that we humor this

pervert.  If we want to get everybody out of jail and save the

carnival, I suggest we do exactly what this guy asks us to do and

we get it over with as quickly, and as painlessly, as possible."

  "Jackie!" she protested, craning her head at me as if I could

summon some quick solution to our problem.

  "Cookie.  Please understand that this is none of my fault.  I

didn't plan this..."

  "I know that," she said quickly.

  "Look.  I know this might not be the time or the place for me to

say this to you.  I know we never was the kind of family that talks

about how we feel about each other...  But I just want you to know

that I would never hurt you and that..."

  She put her hand over my mouth and looked into my eyes.

  "You don't have to tell me that, Jah.  You don't have to say it

to me.  We both know how we feel about each other.  And that's

that."

  Cookie hadn't called me Jah in years.  It was how my sister said

my name when she was just a diapered, little toddler and I used to

have to follow her around and keep her out of trouble.

  I took her hand away and squeezed it.  "Alright." I told her.

"Let's get it over with."



  Sharky's unmarked, Ford police car was parked right in front of

room 17, the farthest door from the dark, motel office.  There was

only one other car in the lot and that was parked in front of room

2.

  He let us in before we even knocked on the door.  Smiling his

cold smile as he saw me and Cookie standing there.

  "Come on in," he said holding the door, "I was wondering when

you'd get here."

  I led the way and Cookie took my hand and followed me.  I

couldn't see my sister behind me, but the way that Sharky's smile

faded, I know she must have been scowling at him.

  The little room was a standard motel accommodation.  There was

one double bed, against the wall in the middle of the room, and a

dresser and a TV, anchored to a metal stand, at the opposite side.

A writing table and a chair were near the closed curtains of the

large window.  There was an open closet, on the far side of the

room, and a door that opened on a bathroom with a shower.

  Sharky told us to have a seat and I took Cookie to the foot of

the bed and we sat down.

  "Wanna' beer?" Sharky said as he pulled two cans of Pabst from

the five left of the six-pack on the dresser.

  I was about to tell him that Cookie didn't like beer when she

said, "Yes," loudly and held out her hand.

  Cookie and I both opened our beers and Sharky bent and held his

hand out to collect the tabs.  Then, as I heard Cookie take a large

gulp, I watched Sharky deposit the tabs in the, plastic lined,

trash can, noticing the large gym bag, on the floor, next to the

dresser.