Pagan Moss' Peep Show Stories

Monday, July 12, 2004

The Death of Lily-white

It finally happened one night when Lily and Star were working together. He came into the peep show looking for a fresh face--an ingenue. Lily had heard the stories about him trying to lure various girls to his place, promising lots of money for not a lot in return. And so it was to be her turn to hear his spiel. She bit down on her lip as he entered her booth, knowing she could be tempted.

He put a twenty dollar bill into the machine and the shade began to rise, revealing to her a stocky, middle-aged man with dark curly hair and glasses.

"Hi, you new?" he asked, speaking with a New Yorker's tongue.

"Yeah, I just started a few weeks ago."

"What's your name?"

"Lily. What's yours?"


"Nice to meet you, Bob."

"You look pretty young to be working here, how old are you?"

She twirled a strand of her hair coyly. "Just turned eighteen last month."

"Have you done this type of work before?"

"No, I'm just a student trying to make some decent money without having to work so hard." She tugged at the bottom of her shirt. "So Bob, you wanna see what's underneath?"

"That's OK, you can keep your clothes on. I just want to talk."

She let go of her shirt. "OK, whatever makes you happy, baby."

"Do you do shows outside of here?"

She lowered her eyes. "No, that sounds kinda scary."

"I don't mean sex or anything like that--just a private show like you do here . . . but without the glass."

"I don't know; I don't want to get into trouble."

"You won't get into trouble. The other girls working here have done it."


"Yeah, the girl you're working with tonight . . . Star, isn't it?"


"She's done it. You should ask her about it."

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, and started writing. "I just live a couple of blocks away from here underneath the monorail. If you decide you want to do it, give me a call and I'll give you directions. Maybe you can come over after one of your shifts or something."

"For how much?"

"One hundred for thirty minutes."

"No touching?"

"No touching . . . and if it works out, I'd like to see you once a week."

She cocked her head and smiled. "I'll think about it."

"Please do, I'd love to see you. He slipped his phone number through the tip slot. "You're a beautiful girl."

Lily picked up the piece of paper and looked it over.

"Well, I'd better get going. I'm having some people over tonight. Don't be afraid to call me. It will be fun--I promise." He waved goodbye as he left the booth.

As soon as he was out of sight, Star burst out into laughter. "So, you finally got to meet Bob, huh?"

Lily jumped out of her booth and walked over to Star. "Yeah, he seems like a decent guy."

"He's OK. Did he ask you to do a private show?"

"Yeah, he told me to ask you about it. He said you've done them for him."

"I've done them for him. A lot of the girls here have done them."

"So what do you have to do?"

"Pretty much what I do here except I lay on a bed."

"Does he touch you?"

"Hell, no!--I just get naked and play with my pussy a little, while he sits in a chair and jerks off like a spider monkey."

"Does he try to get you to do more?"

"Well . . . when I first started doing shows for him, he wanted to touch my pussy."


"Yeah, and this one time he tried to get me to massage his balls, while he beat off."

"What did you say?"

"Well I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, naturally, but I didn't want to fuck things up between us either, you know. So I just ended up telling him that wasn't part of the deal, and then he whined that all the other girls did it." Star rolled her eyes and sighed. "Men, they're all the same--lying, horny bastards."

"You don't do shows with him anymore?"

"No, he quit asking me to come over. He doesn't see one girl for too long--he likes V-A-R-I-E-T-Y."

"Don't they all," Lily said. Her face suddenly turned serious. "So do you think he's safe?"

"Yeah, sure. He just lives down the street. He's got a really nice condo. Nobody knows what he does for a living, but the guy's got money."

"How much does he pay?"

"I think it was a hundred for thirty minutes. But you have to watch cause he likes to talk beforehand. He'll try to get you to stay longer for the same amount of money. I think some of the girls fall for that shit. But not me, the time starts counting down as soon as I walk through that front door."

"Yeah, that's what I would do, too."

Star motioned for Lily to come closer. She leaned forward and whispered, "There was once this girl who worked here who was a heroin addict. She was a real nasty bitch. If she got a toy show, she'd use another girl's vibrator if they left it out. Anyway, she was totally desperate this one time, and I heard she let him fuck her for fifty dollars."


"Well, that was the rumor anyway. Don't worry though--I doubt he'd try that shit with you."

Lily paused in contemplation.

"So are you going to do it?"

"Well, I've never done anything like that before. But if it's basically what I'm doing here, and a lot of the girls have already done it, it sounds like an easy way to make a quick hundred dollars. And I could really use the money right now. My phone and power are about ready to be cut off."

"If you're nervous about being at his place, why don't you just call and let me know you're there," Star said. "And when you're done just call me back and let me know you're still alive."

Lily smiled. "You wouldn't mind?"

Star lit a cigarette. "Of course not--we girls gotta stick together," she said with a wink.

A couple days passed and Lily finally decided to do the show. She pulled his phone number out of her bag and started to dial. He answered after two rings--his voice sounding deeper than she remembered.

"Hello," he said.

"Hi, it's Lily."

"Hi, Lily. So glad you called. I've been thinking about you."

"I wanted to let you know I was available tonight after 1:00 if you still wanted to do that show."

"Of course--how about 1:30?"

"Sounds great."

He gave her directions to his place and told her he would be waiting for her out front.

"Well, I gotta go," he said. "I'm with friends."

"See you . . . "

Lily's last words were drowned out by the drone of the dial tone.

When 12:00 rolled around that night, Lily jumped out of her booth and started to get ready. She went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and change her tampon. The dry cotton shaft grabbed painfully at her insides as she pulled it out, signaling the ebb of her flow. She decided she could forgo a new one. Instead, she plucked a couple of baby wipes from a Pampers dispenser sitting atop the counter and proceeded to wipe between her legs and under her arms--a modern-day whore bath.

Lily came out of the bathroom and started to dress, deciding on a white satin bra and panty set, along with matching thigh high stockings. She freshened up her makeup and brushed out her long auburn hair, pulling one side back with a large silver barrette. She put on the outfit she came in: a short pleated wool skirt, white blouse, and a pair of black equestrian boots. She grabbed her coat and bag and was out the door. A wave of adrenalin hit her.

It was dark and rainy out on the city streets of Seattle. Lily pulled her hood up over her head to fend off the weather. Her steps were brisk as this wasn't the best part of town to be walking this time of night. She followed the monorail, just like he said, for about five blocks. But when she arrived, he was nowhere to be found. She peered into the window of the deli below his place, but it was too dark to make anything out.

A car slowed and pulled up next to the curb. The passenger window lowered and a man yelled out. "Need a ride, baby?"

She didn't look up. "No, thanks I'm waiting for someone."

He tipped his hat. "I'm sorry, ma'am--thought you were somebody else. Have a good evening," he said, driving off.

A couple minutes later a shadowy figure emerged from the dark walls of the deli. The door opened.

"Hi, I'm sorry. I got stuck on the phone. Were you waiting long?"

"No, I just got here a couple of minutes ago."

"Well, come in. It looks nasty out there."

She stepped inside the deli and waited as he locked the front door behind him. The room was pitch black and she suddenly realized how vulnerable she was. She quickly recalled horror stories she had heard about prostitutes being murdered and maimed. The northwest has a reputation for its serial killers--especially the ones craving the flesh of those willing to sell it. She was no longer safe behind the glass.

He walked across the dark room and opened a door, which led to a landing and a lit birch staircase. He motioned for her to follow. "This way," he said.

The staircase led to a gourmet kitchen, which was immaculate, but devoid of any warmth. Everthing was stainless and granite and in its place. He walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door, offering her a variety of drinks.

"Wine would be great," she said, thinking it might help calm her nerves.

He poured two glasses. "Good choice," he said, handing her one of the glasses. "Why don't we sit in the living room for a moment."

She took a drink. "Sure."

He led her to the living room where they sat down on separate leather couches, facing one another. He put down his glass as if he suddenly remembered something important. He pulled out a wad of cash from his front pocket and handed her a hundred dollar bill.

"Thanks," she said, putting the money in her purse.

Lily searched the room for a clock, remembering what Star had said. But she couldn't find one. The room was bare with only the couches, a glass coffee table, a floor lamp, and a large wall unit neatly packed with books.

They engaged in some small talk for about ten minutes. Lily finally interrupted, "I hate to rush, but I have a friend picking me up in a while. I don't want her to worry if I'm not there when she shows up. And besides, I'm sure you're not paying a hundred dollars just to talk to me for thirty minutes."

He stood up. "Oh, of course," he said, clearing his throat. "I'll show you to the bedroom."

He led her down a dim lit hallway to what appeared to be the guest room, containing just a small bed, a chair and nothing else. She imagined he took all the girls here to do the nasty. A guy like him certainly wouldn't allow such acts to defile his bedroom; a place he surely regarded as hallowed ground.

He walked over to the bed, got down on his hands and knees, and reached underneath. "I have something for us," he said, pulling out a small wooden box. He walked over to the chair, sat down, and opened the lid. He started preparing two white lines on a small mirror. "You want some?" he asked.

"Oh, no thanks," she said, removing her boots.

He held a tightly rolled up bill under one nostril. "You mind if I help myself?"

"Of course not. Go right ahead."

"Thanks," he said, leaning over the mirror.

Lily jumped on the bed, sinking into the down comforter. "How do you want to do this?"

He put down the box. 'Why don't you start by taking off your top," he said, sniffing.

She took off her blouse and laid it neatly on the bed.

He leaned forward in his chair. "How about the skirt?"

She stood up on the bed and unzipped the back of her skirt, letting it slide down her hips to her ankles.

"Why don't you show me those nice titties you have."

She slowly took off her bra, revealing large natural breasts.

His eyes softened. "They're so beautiful," he said, touching himself through his pants.

She smiled. "Thank you."

"What's under those panties?"

"You wanna see?" she said, pulling her panties down to her ankles.

His jaw dropped. "Your pussy looks so good . . . good enough to eat," he said, making a chomping gesture toward her.

"Thank you," she said. "Would you like me to lie down?"

He scooted his chair closer. "Yes, please."

Lily laid down on her back, facing him.

"Spread your legs," he demanded as he fumbled for his zipper.

Her legs fell open.

He pulled his hard cock out of his pants. "Now spread your lips."

She spread her soft pink lips.

"Nice, it looks real tight," he said, stroking himself.

"It is," she purred.

"I want to see you touch yourself," he said, shifting in his seat.

Lily started to rub her clit.

His face hardened. "How does that feel?" he asked--his voice sounding harsh.

She closed her eyes. "Really good."

He looked down and smiled. "What do you think of my cock?"

She brought one of her fingers to her mouth and tasted herself. "It's real nice, baby."

He pointed between her legs. "I bet it would feel nice in that tight little pussy of yours."

She pulled her finger out of her mouth slowly, savoring her taste. "I bet it would."

He patted his front pocket. "I've got another hundred dollar bill in here if you want to find out."

She shook her head apologetically. "I'm sorry, baby. I told you I don't do those types of shows."

"That's OK, I understand," he said. "I won't ask again. But if you ever change your mind, let me know."

Lily smiled. "I will."

His attention shifted again between her legs. "How many fingers can you stick in there?"

"I don't know . . . a couple, I guess."

He grabbed his balls. "Show me," he whispered.

Lily slid a couple fingers down to her opening and slipped them inside.

Sweat started to form on his forehead. "Damn, that looks tight. Can you put in another finger?"

Her forehead furrowed. "I don't think so."

"Can you open it up, then?" he asked.

She nodded, "Yes." She pulled her fingers out and opened herself up for him.

His lips formed a painful O like someone grabbed him real good between the legs. "Oh, yeah, baby. Looks great! Do you think you can scoot forward a little so your butt's at the edge of the bed?"

"Sure," she said, doing the crab walk toward him.

He brought his face within inches of her pussy. "Much better."

Lily looked at the clock. He only had ten minutes left.

"Not to change the subject, baby. But I just wanted to let you know that your time's running out."

He looked surprised. "Really, already?"

"You've got ten minutes."

"OK, OK. I believe you. It just went by so fast."

"Are you gonna come for me tonight, baby?" she whispered.

"Yeah, baby. I'm gonna come for you. I'd like to do it all over your ass." He started stroking his cock faster, sweat dripping from his forehead. His face looked worried, like he might not be able to do it under the gun, or maybe it was just the coke working its magic.

"I don't know if I'll be able to come. Do you think I can touch your thigh? I think that will get me there."

She didn't want him to touch her, but she figured the sooner he came, the sooner this would all be over. "OK, but just the top of my thigh. No moving in or up. And I better not get any cum on me."

"No, I promise. And I'll stay here," he said, placing his hand on the fleshy part of her upper thigh, right below her hip.

He stood up and leaned into her a little as if he were fucking her and not his hand--his eyes locked onto her pink wet hole. He thrusted feverishly, working himself into such a frenzy, that Lily feared he might fall down and die of a heart attack. Just when she thought he might pass out, his eyes closed and his face tightened. He dug his fingertips into her flesh as he let out a huge moan.

He collapsed back into the chair and Lily hopped off the bed and started to dress. "Wow, it sounded like you really enjoyed that," she said.

He wiped himself off with a hanky. "That was great. I think this is going to work out very nicely," he said, smiling.

The next morning, Lily laid in her bed, thinking about the night before. Even though she didn't have sex, she felt different. It wasn't just like doing a show at the peeps. And the money . . . it would be gone by tomorrow when she paid the bills. It wasn't even enough to cover the phone bill, not to mention the power, which was due to be shut off next week. She wondered when Bob would back.

The following week, Bob showed up in her booth.

He picked up the phone. "You have plans after work?"

"No, just sleep."

"How about a quick show at my place after you're done here."


"When do you get off?"

"I can leave at 1:00."

"OK, I'll see you at 1:30," he said, walking out of her booth.

12:30 came and she started packing it up--the same routine as last time, only tonight she wore black. It seemed more fitting.

When she arrived at his place, he was standing outside smoking a cigarette.

"Hi, baby," he said as she approached. He flicked his cigarette to the pavement and killed it with the tip of his loafer. He opened the front door for her.

"Nice to see you," she said, stepping inside.

They sat in the kitchen for a couple of minutes sipping wine. He took a wad of cash out of his pants and peeled off a hundred dollar bill and handed it to her.

"Thanks," she said, putting it in her purse.

"Money well spent," he said, trying to stuff the large wad back into his pocket. "You ready to go into the other room?" he asked, slapping his thigh as he stood up.

"Sure," she said, setting her wine down.

She followed him back to the room . . . now familiar.

She stripped as he watched.

"Let me know if you want to make another hundred dollars."

"Doing what?" she asked, slinking onto the bed.

"I was hoping you might let me put a finger or two inside you, while you massage my balls."

"I don't know . . ."

"I have latex gloves," he pleaded. In an effort to try to win her over, he got up and pulled out a box of latex gloves from beneath the bed and held it up for her to see. He then pulled out another hundred dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to her.

"Here, take it, " he said. "I only have ten minutes left, so you wouldn't have to do it long." He smiled. "One hundred dollars in ten minutes is damn good money, especially for a student. I know you could use it."

She looked at the hundred dollar bill, knowing he spoke the truth. She needed it bad. Besides, there were girls who were fucking for two hundred.

"OK," she said, taking the money.

He smiled an evil smile as he put on the gloves. "I want you to know that I just washed my hands," he said. "So I'm all ready for you."

Lily laid on her back and spread her legs.

"Can you move forward like last time?" he asked.

She scooted forward and so did he. His gloved hand came at her and she held her breath, trying not to wince at his touch. She felt like she was being examined by a doctor. But when his fingers entered, they weren't so gentle. They felt cruel--jabbing and clawing at her tender flesh. She felt her body tense around his fingers and this seemed to excite him more. He leaned into her, driving his hand up further as if he were trying to enter her womb. She bit her lip, trying not to cry out, while he writhed in utter delight, working his cock in his hand.

"Massage my balls!" he demanded.

Lily leaned forward and started rubbing his balls, trying not to disrupt his own rythym.

His eyes closed and his head fell back. "Oh, yeah. That's it," he grunted.

He suddenly pulled out his fingers and her body softened. He quickly reentered, using four instead, pushing them in deeper than before. She started panicking a little, feeling like he might hurt her. She felt like she was being devoured--ripped apart by Jack the Ripper. She looked over at the clock, hoping the time would save her.

"You only have a couple minutes, baby," she gasped.

"Squeeze my balls."

She squeezed them.


She tightened her grip feeling the firmness inside.

"Oh, God," he yelled out as he came.

He pulled his fingers--now listless--out of her.

She jumped off the bed.

He excused himself to wash up. She dressed.

Lily had trouble sleeping that night. She looked at the two hundred dollars lying on the night stand--power and food. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

There were a few more shows with Bob and then he seemed to disappear for a while.

He finally came in one night. Lily smiled and waved as he past her booth. He acted like he didn't see her, choosing to enter the new girl's booth instead. Her smile shrank in disbelief.

She pressed her ear against the wall and listened. She could hear his every word; the same script he used on her. A couple minutes later he emerged from the booth. This time, he smiled as he passed by.

The new girl jumped out of her booth and peeked into Lily's.

"Hey, sorry to bother you," she said with excitement. "But that guy who just came in here . . ."


"Well, he said he would pay me one hundred dollars to do a private show at his place."

"Oh, really."

"Yeah, he said you'd tell me he's safe."

"Well he's no serial killer or anything like that. But he'll try to get you to do more than you want to. He'll say all the girls do it. But don't listen to him--he's full of shit."

"Seems like an easy way to make a hundred dollars . . . and I could really use a hundred dollars."

Lily looked the new girl right in the eye and with a weak smile said, "Couldn't we all, darling."

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A Seattle peep-show girl shares stories of her customers and adventures stemming from her bare-it-all behavior.

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