The funk coming off his ass was incredible. Here the niggah had on three g’s worth of gear, and his drawers and ass smelled like two weeks ago. Pluto put his fat knee in my chest and pulled out his dick, and I almost threw up at the sight of it. It was fat and uncircumcised and had a glob of slimy juice dripping from the head.

“If you put that shit anywhere near my mouth, I’ma-”

Pluto knocked the shit out of me. “Suck it, bitch,” he yelled as I tried to clear my head and catch my breath. “You gonna suck it!”

That dick was halfway down my throat before I knew it. I gagged and fought as he pumped in and out of my mouth like it was his own personal pussy. Tears were blinding me, but I heard that fat niggah laughing on top of me as he slammed his dick in my mouth up to the balls. “Yeah, bitch. Suck it! Suck it!”

I forced myself to wait until he pulled back, and the moment he went in for another slam, I bit down on that shit so hard it made my jaw ache.

The next thing I knew Pluto was screaming, fists were flying, and my mouth was filling up with blood. A bunch of somebodys bust into the room and pulled Pluto off of me, and I could hear Monique laughing in the doorway. G came in and looked down at me with ice in his eyes.

“Pluto paid for that pussy, bitch. Next customer that comes up in here better get his money’s worth.” But even G couldn’t make me suck no dick. When those niggahs saw Pluto with blood all over his pants, none of them were bad enough to stick their dicks in my face.

The first five tricks were the worst. Some of them I’d known and had dissed for years because they had tried to get with me even though they knew I was G’s. Others were straight-up strangers who were all about getting some cold sex. Only a few of them bothered with a rubber since I was considered prime fresh meat. G stayed right there in the room with me, too, and even told me what to do. “Grab his ass, Juicy. Don’t just lay there! These niggahs done paid good money for that pussy! Fuck back at ’em!”

Five turned into ten, and then into even more. By then my nipples were chewed raw, I was bleeding between my legs and scraped so sore that all I could do was lay there and moan. G looked down on me with a strange look in his eyes, and I thought about all the nights I had lain in bed next to this man while he slept. I prayed he would remember how much he used to like me and say fuck his reputation and have a little mercy on me.

“All right, now,” G said as the next customer came through the door. “Y’all bout wearing this pussy out now. Quit sending them niggahs in here one by one. Let’s get us a train rolling, keep this pussy hot. One niggah jump out, the next one jump in. Let’s move it, fellahs. Time is money.”

I turned my head toward the wall, but I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. I didn’t have no more tears left. But what I did have was a little purple pill Monique had slipped me. See there, Dicey, I thought. Maybe that three-titty bitch ain’t so bad after all. I opened my mouth and threw that pill down my grateful throat.

Chapter Twenty-Five

I had survived the first night and was back in the Dungeon. It was dark and foul, and to top it off the toilet didn’t flush. I jumped at every little noise, and I made myself sing out loud, scared that there were some big-ass New York City rats living in the walls and just hungry for a piece of me.

For the next two days G was his usual generous self. He brought all of his young lieutenants through-the hard-core niggas who worked the projects and served as lookouts and the ones who manned the corners of each avenue passing his product-and let all of them sample my stuff for free.

“Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” They screamed into my neck, gripping my hips and trying to knock a hole in my back. “You thought you was too good for a nigga! Huh? Huh?”

At night G had Ace and Pluto take me upstairs and get me ready for the stage, and when the show was over I worked the back rooms until closing time.

By the third night I had a fever, and one of the customers refused to fuck me. He told G I was talking out of my head and looked half-dead, so G gave him his money back and told him to pick another ho.

Flex came through on the morning of that third day, during the daytime when he coulda got him some for free. He stepped up to the mattress and stared down at me laying on that dirty sheet.

“Damn, girl. You used to be a Porsche. Now you just a regular putt-putt.”

I tried to give him the finger, but I was too weak. Besides, I was laying on one hand and the other one was chained to the pole.

“Fuck you, Flex,” I whispered, my throat raw.

“Nah, baby. That’s okay. Your pussy stanks, and plus, you been run through.”

“Where’s Jimmy? You seen Jimmy?”

Flex got quiet for a minute. “Yeah. I seen that niggah. G set both of y’all up, Juicy-Mo. He sent Jimmy to the A.C. and then had some niggahs jack him for his yards.”

“You knew about it, you motherfucker!”

“Uh-uh.” Flex shook his head. “Not when you came down to Taft I didn’t. I tried to talk Jimmy out of making that run to A.C. but he wouldn’t listen. See, G arranged the whole thing, and Jimmy was scared to come back without his money, so I let him chill at the crib with me and Cooter on the Lower East Side.”

“Where is he now, Flex?” I whispered. “Where the fuck is my brother?”

He shrugged. “You got me. I been looking for him myself. Word got around that G had you and Gino, and the next thing I knew Jimmy rolled. I thought he was heading up here, but I ain’t seen him in two days.”

I started crying again. I couldn’t help it. Loud, heavy tears.

“This is fucked up, Juicy,” Flex said. “I feel for you, girl, but you put your money on the wrong nigger. Shit is about to change big time. I told you one day I’d be runnin thangs in Harlem. You shoulda had some faith in me. You and Jimmy both. G is getting old. That motherfucker ain’t got much longer on the throne. But since we go way back, I tell you what. Make it through this, and I’ll hook you up with a job. You can be my main bitch when I take over the Spot. Me and Cooter gonna rename it Flex-n-Effect.”

Cooter? I thought. Flex was bugging. He was worse off than me and I was beat and fucked and chained to a bed. I closed my eyes and willed myself to doze off before the next pair of balls were dangling over me. Fletcher Boykin could take his job and stick it up his ass. If I lived through this, I was definitely gonna be my own boss.

The door slammed at the top of the stairs, and I opened my eyes and tried to sit up. My mind was so confused I had lost track of time and couldn’t tell if it was morning or night. Heavy footsteps boomed down and I looked up to see Pluto standing over me, looking like he wanted to beat my ass again. He grabbed me and unlocked the chain, then started dragging me toward the stairs by my ponytail and the back of my shirt, but I was already so bruised and banged up I couldn’t even feel any additional pain. I could tell he was still mad about the way I bit up his dick, and he slung my ass from wall to wall as we came out of the Dungeon and headed toward the main room.

Right before we turned the corner Pluto gripped the back of my neck and spit dead in my face. “You about to get yours now, you scab-ass bitch. Before the night is over you gone be a dick-suckin pro.” I wiped his funky spit out of my eyes and told him to kiss my ass.

“That’s why we capped that mothefuckin Gino, tramp. Cause he was too busy kissing your ass to handle his business. You shoulda seen how that bitch bled.”

Gino was dead.

I moaned and my whole body went cold. To keep from screaming, I bit down into my lip and fought to clamp my mouth closed.