Talia

Talia looked out the window of Sally’s car. It wasn’t the newest or nicest like Mike’s, but it was well maintained. It was spotless, polished, vacuumed and smelled like pine, even though no air fresheners were visible.

Sally navigated the streets of the Bronx like a pro. Traffic was light, but he was able to change lanes with barely a glance, weaving around stopped cars and pedestrians. Part of Talia knew it pained him to swerve; he’d rather run them down, feel their bodies deform and tear under his vehicle.

Storefronts and sodium lamps lit the streets. New York City was truly the city that never sleeps. It was just past midnight, but certain streets were just as busy as if it were rush hour.

Sally didn’t say a word, just kept his hands on the wheel and eyes on the road. Those black, soulless eyes drank in the darkness, not even squinting when hit with oncoming high-beams. 

The car drove down a familiar street, a blast from the past for Talia.

The theatre was closed, but the marque over the doors was lit. The name of a play, one Talia wasn’t familiar with, hung in thick, black letters. That building was her first shot at show business and the place she met Mike.

Talia was a Midwest dreamer, like millions of young people around the world, she wanted to go to the Big Apple and find fame. In school she loved to act. It wasn’t just a passion, it was her life. From elementary school, she knew she wanted to be an actress and it was either Hollywood or Broadway. She wouldn’t take no for an answer and knew it was her destiny. New York was the best shot, in her opinion. The rent outside of the city was cheaper, there was public transportation and even though Broadway was her dream, she knew there were plenty of smaller theatres. With a long, tearful lecture and begging from her parents, Talia boarded a bus headed east. She never looked back. 

The city chewed her up and spit her out. The apartment she had lined up fell through, rented out before she even arrived. She had to scramble to find something. Her first night in the city was spent in a budget motel, the kind that rents by the hour. Her room smelled like mold, the duvet was stained and slightly damp. The walls had mustard yellow wallpaper that looked like it could’ve been white at some point. The lock on her door was dented and didn’t catch. Luckily, a manual latch had been installed on the inside of the door. She slept in her clothes that night, afraid to have any of her skin on the sheets. Screams, sirens, barking dogs and even a gunshot kept her awake the entire night. The rest of the building wasn’t much better. Her neighbor, who she assumed was a prostitute, had sex all night. There would be a knock on the door, a few mumbled words and the distinct sound of sex, then silence. This cycle repeated the entire night, with some sessions sounding quite violent. She cried herself to a few moments of sleep, her body finally had enough. That morning she’d been home, in her own bed, the same one since childhood, surrounded by loved ones. Now, she was in a shithole motel listening to the horrifying sounds of the big city and paid sex.

The next morning, she took her meager belongings and set out looking for a more permanent place to stay. It took her a little while, but she was able to secure something. A couple of well placed $20s allowed her to move in immediately. The place was an old boarding house, but it was drastically better than the motel. Her room was on the top floor and there was only one other room near hers, which was perfect.

She began her quest for fame immediately, some auditions she’d booked before leaving her parent’s house. Talia auditioned all hours of the day and for any role. Weeks went by and there was nothing but rejection. She didn’t know why; she was young, good looking and talented…as was everyone else. There’s a filthy underbelly to the city, but no shortage of sexy youth either. Her aspirations of Broadway were a distant memory, a fucking pipe dream at the time. She did what she could and finally landed a small role in a show. The theatre was tiny, only holding about 100 people, but it was a start.

Talia was there early every day for rehearsal. Not that she had a difficult part, but she wanted to show her dedication to perfection. Her perfection was noticed, but not in a way she wanted.

An associate of the theatre, Mike Maione, was common to see around. He’d walk into the changing rooms whenever he felt like it. It wasn’t unheard of for actors and actresses to see each other nude, but not members of the public. It didn’t matter, Mike did what he wanted, which was evident immediately.

A week or so after she started, he approached her.

“I’ve noticed you around,” he said, trying to pour on the charm. He was at least twice her age, fat, balding and had a sickly twinge to his skin. Needless to say, Talia was not interested.

“Oh,” she said, looking for a way out of the small dressing room. The other cast members saw her with him—

‘“Will you walk in my parlour?” said a spider to a fly,’ thought Talia.

—and walked right out. The senior cast knew his reputation and affiliation, and wanted no part of him.

“Yeah,” he said, looking her up and down, not hiding his lingering glare as it rested on her breasts. His eyes reluctantly went back to her face. “I’m a part owner of this fine production, but that’s not all I do.” He picked at a manicured nail, removing a speck of grime. “I’m also in film too.”

Talia’s defenses went up. There were rumors about Mike, but she didn’t pay too much attention to them. Actors and actresses were inherent gossips, regardless of what part of the world. When the rumor that Mike was in the mob started floating around, Talia ignored it. She was from a small town, but didn’t fall for the stereotypes all Italian-Americans were mobsters. She wished she’d listened.

Talia looked around, finding something to hold her gaze. “Oh, that sounds nice,” she said, making an effort to stare at the clock hanging on the wall. “I need to get out there before Marie has a fit.” She moved forward, hoping he’d move. He didn’t. The smell of his cologne mixed with the odor of cigarettes intensified the closer she got.

Finally, he moved. “Of course, I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble,” he said, letting her by. “But, if you ever get sick of this, call me.” He pulled a card holder from his pocket, plucking a bone-white business card. There was no name, only a number. Talia tucked it in her pocket, smiled and walked out.

Mike stood, watching her walk away, knowing it was only a matter of time.

That time came two weeks later during a rehearsal. 

Talia was preparing to enter the stage for her scene. The stage curtains, ancient pieces of fabric, a relic of its golden days, were closed. The stage was oddly dark, something she wasn’t used to. A bulb must’ve blown, but she knew her scene was coming up, so she navigated her way out. Shapes and shadows were the only things she could see, as she felt in the darkness for something to anchor her. Her outstretched hands hit something and suddenly it wasn’t there. The object fell, a loud tearing sound which cut the silence.

Lights flashed on. Clearly someone had them off for a reason. Laying on the ground was a piece of the scenery. It was cracked, but that wasn’t the worst part. On its way down, it had snagged a piece of the curtain, tearing a massive hole in it.

“What the fuck!” Marie said, walking out from the other side of the curtains. She held a clipboard and came flying at the young actress. She stopped and looked in abject horror at the destroyed curtains. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She looked at Talia and back to the curtains as if they would magically be fixed.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Talia mumbled. The other cast members began filtering in, looking at the damage. Some muttered curses under breath, others looked sad, refusing to make eye contact with her. “The lights were out and I knocked into it,” tears were starting to creep up as everyone watched her. 

Marie seethed. The woman was abrasive, but this was an accident. There was no reason she should be as enraged as she was. Yet, she was nearly about to snap her clipboard in half.

“You fucking hick!” she spat at Talia. “Corn-pone bitch,” she grabbed the curtains, showing them to her, as if she couldn’t see. “We open in two fucking days and now this.” She turned to show the rest of the cast. 

“Marie, I’m sorry,” Talia mumbled. She was crying now, silent tears falling down her smooth cheeks. She stared at the floor, ashamed to look at the faces around her.

“Yeah, that’s a fucking understatement,” Marie let the curtain hang and walked away. “Get back to work. Let’s try to get a good fucking take and maybe we’ll figure out if this shit can be fixed.” She stopped and turned, looking at Talia, who was still silently weeping. “Oh, and this is coming out of your pay, but that’s not going to be nearly enough. I hope you have a fucking savings account.”

Talia sobbed, thinking of the meager savings she had, which was next to nothing.

Somehow, she finished the rehearsal, waiting to hear what the curtain was going to cost her. She sat on a stool in the dressing room, staring into nothing as the others chatted. The smell of cologne and cigarettes caught her attention.

“I heard you had a tough day today,” Mike said, damn well knowing what happened.

Talia turned; her eyes red from the nearly constant crying. 

“Yeah,” she croaked and rubbed her hands together. Fresh tears popped free, sliding down her porcelain skin.

Mike reached up with a soft hand and wiped her face. “Come with me,” he said. It wasn’t a question or request, but an order. He turned and left, not looking back. 

Talia looked at some of the other cast members. They had a mixture of expressions, but most were sadness, as if she were condemned. She took a deep breath and followed behind him.

Marie stood talking with a production assistant. She looked up, seeing Talia and grimaced, as if in pain.

“I’m sorry, Marie. I hope the show will be ok.”

Marie softened. The crazy bitch from earlier was gone, like a costume hung up. Now, she was a soft, middle-age woman who just looked stressed and sad.

Marie grabbed her arm. “It’s ok, Talia. The show will always go on.” She looked at Mike, who hadn’t stopped and was almost to the exterior door. “I’m sorry,” she said, letting her go and turning back to the assistant.

“You coming?” Mike said from the door. He held it open to the night air, which gusted into the old theatre.

Talia looked back at Marie, but she was already walking away. “Yeah, sorry,” she said, walking to him. “I was just letting Marie know I’d be stepping out.”

Mike led her out. A sleek, black Cadillac sat running in front of the building. He opened the back door for her.

“Don’t worry about her. She’s a big pussycat,” he gestured to her to get in.

Talia’s heart pounded as she stared into the abyss of the black leather. She couldn’t see the driver’s face, but he looked young and thin. She steeled her nerves and slid in. She thought Mike would sit in the front, but he got in next to her. She shifted over, sitting behind the driver’s seat. Once the door was closed the big car pulled away.

“I won’t lie to you, Talia,” Mike said, lighting a cigarette. He offered her one, but she declined. He cracked the window, letting the smoke slither out. “You’re very attractive,” he pointed at her with his cigarette between two fingers. “But you’re wasting that in places like this,” he said pointing back toward the theatre.

Talia didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing, just listened.

“Do you want to make money? Have thousands of admirers and only work a couple of hours a week?”

Talia was stunned, but managed to croak out, “Yes.”

Mike smiled, smoke rising through his teeth. “I run a very respectful company which makes films. Now, these films are not for everyone, but those in the business have great respect for me and my associates. Now, before you ask, just know this is legit and legal.”

Talia wasn’t going to ask, but was happy to hear.

“I’ll cut to the chase. I run a small, very strict pornography production.” Talia opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “Before you say no, hear me out. You’ll never have to do scenes you don’t want to, plus the money is amazing.” His grin widened. “I heard you’re in a little financial trouble right now with the theatre. Well, it just so happens I can make that go away for just one scene. And, it can be a solo.”

“A solo?” Talia asked.

“Yeah, it would just be you in the scene. You’d play with yourself. You know, finger yourself, fucking your cunt with a dildo, or your ass, whatever you’re into. There’s a big following for them and you’re new, so it’ll sell like crazy. That will clear your debt to the theatre and pay you more than three plays combined.”

Talia knew this was a mistake, knew it from the beginning. Not just getting involved with Mike or the likes of him, but the whole fucking thing. The move to New York. Leaving home, thinking she could be a big star on Broadway. Now she was in the debt of a man who she thought was a mobster.

Mike slid closer, resting his hand on her thigh. He squeezed, ever so gently.

“So, what do you say?” He smiled, taking a drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray.

Talia wanted to vomit, but part of her was intrigued. Never did she see this day coming, never, but here it is. She could feel the moisture of his hand through her jeans. She didn’t recoil, though, surprising even herself. The nausea went away and the power of greed began to seep in.

“Just me?” she asked, looking at him.

“Yup, just you, probably on a bed. Sure, there will be some crew, but no one else in the scene. You don’t have to use toys, just fingers if you want. You have to cum or at least fake it, but that’s it.”

Every cell in her body was screaming at her to tell him no, that she would figure out how to pay back the damage on her own. She felt out of body, as if in a dream.

“Ok,” she said.

Mike’s signature smile widened to Cheshire Cat territory. He patted her thigh. “Excellent,” he said to her. “Sally,” he said to the driver, “take us to Giovanni’s. I’m starving.” He looked at Talia. “Are you hungry?”

On cue, her stomach growled. “I could eat,” she said.

“Perfect,” he pulled out another business card and wrote an address on the back. “Meet here tomorrow night at 10. Your understudy will cover you in the play.”

She wanted to argue, but already knew there was no use.

“Now, how awesome am I?” Mike asked, leaning back and smiling.

Talia forced a smile. “Yeah, pretty great.”

“Don’t you think I deserve something for my generosity?” He began unzipping his pants.

Talia shuddered. She knew it was going to come to this. Nothing in life was free and she gave a slight nod.

Mike flopped his uncircumcised, half-erect penis from his pants. The glistening tip of his cock poked out from the fold of his foreskin.

Talia stared at it, not quite repulsed, but far from turned on. She hadn’t been an expert in giving blow jobs, only having done it a few times with an ex-boyfriend. Well, she was going to learn.

“Well, it ain’t gonna suck itself,” Mike said, stroking his penis, unsheathing his helmet from the foreskin.

Talia put her hair back and slid forward. She leaned over and grabbed his still, somewhat soft cock in her hand.

Mike shivered for a moment; her hand was powder dry and cool.

As she brought her face closer to his cock, she could smell the pungent and sour aroma of smegma trapped in the folds of his foreskin. She took a shallow breath and put his cock in her mouth. He was bitter and there was a slight, pasty feel, but she did her best to ignore that. The few times she’d blown her ex, there was nothing special. She’d just suck and within seconds he’d cum in her mouth. The taste didn’t bother her, but the texture did. She’d always spit it out afterwards and made sure she had something to rinse with. As she felt Mike grow harder, her spit and his pre-cum running from her mouth, she thought about what she was going to do with his spunk.

“Oh, fuck,” Mike breathed, thrusting himself deeper into Talia’s warm mouth.

He was close and she knew it. More slimy pre-cum was filling her mouth; most dripping out. It was only a matter of time. Talia picked up the pace, willing it to end, but afraid at the same time.

Mike pushed Talia’s head down, thrusting his cock down her throat. “Shit,” he said, his orgasm reaching its peak.

Talia nearly gagged when he pushed her head down, but didn’t. The warm spurt of cum shot down the back of her throat, coating it with slick, saltiness. She didn’t have time to worry about swallowing, as most of the semen was already gone anyway.

Mike let go of her head, taking deep breaths, his eyes closed. “Damn, girl. You give a hell of a suck job.”

Talia swallowed the remnants in her mouth, trying to hide her grimace at the jelly-like consistency.

“That was one of the best blow jobs I’ve ever had,” he said, using his pocket square to dry his shaft and balls, “and I’ve had a lot of them.”

Talia felt repulsed…and flattered. She couldn’t believe she’d just sucked his cock and let him finish in her mouth. Then again, the flattery wasn’t wasted on her. She smiled, just a little.

“Thanks,” she said, trying to avoid his eyes. “I’m not very experienced, so I didn’t know what to expect.”

Mike laughed. “Not experienced? God damn, girl, a couple more of those and you’ll be a damn pro.” He slid close to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “But, that’s not for film,” he said, his cigarette smelling breath hot in her face. “Not yet, at least. Let’s build up a resume and then maybe we’ll talk about some other stuff.” He looked through the windshield as the big car pulled up the curb. “Oh, good, we’re here.” He opened the door as the car rolled to a stop in front of the restaurant. “Shall we?” he said, reaching for her hand.

Talia took it, allowing him to lead her from the car and right into his web.

✽✽✽

Sally pulled up to the curb in front of Talia’s apartment, a building owned by Mike’s boss, Carano San Giacomo. Her rent was next to nothing for such a nice building.

She grabbed her stuff and opened the door.

“I’ll be here tomorrow at 9,” Sally said, as Talia was getting out of the car.

“Ok,” she said, leaning in to talk to the man behind the wheel. “I’ll meet you down here,” she said, shutting the door without another word.

Talia didn’t hate Sally, but wasn’t a big fan of his either. The man was one dimensional and made her uncomfortable. There was no incident to back it up, but just something about him was off putting. Like chewing tinfoil with metal fillings or nails on a chalkboard, something didn’t sit well with that man.

Sally watched her walk away, her tight ass framed in her jeans. She didn’t look back or wave, just made a b-line for the lobby door of the building. He was still staring as she entered the elevator. He’d love to fuck her. Feel her under him as he rammed his cock deep inside of her. There was only one problem, she was too warm for him.