Archive for call girl fiction

Convention Girl by Don Elliott (Robert Silverberg) — Nightstand Books #1547

Posted in Don Elliott, Nightstand Books, Robert Silverberg, Vintage Sleaze Paperbacks with tags , , , , , , on July 26, 2009 by vintagesleazepaperbacks

Elliott - Convention Girl

This one is a little different from the other Silverberg Don Elliotts — more mature, dark, without the sappy romantic endings that he sometimes uses.  Let’s say this books has one heck of a depressing ending, with three dead bodies.

It is NB #1547, the 46th book William Hamling published — Silverberg wrote the first one, Love Addict, that I have already discussed.  This was perhaps at a dozen titles Silverberg had written — plus a John Dexter or Sin Girlstwo, and Sin Girls as Marlene Longman (a pen name later to be used by Marion Zimmer Bradley for The Twisted Ones).

Dan Holestein is in the “small home contracting business.”  He’s worked hard and is successful, has his own company and employees, lives well.  His wife, however, is frigid and cold, so he sometimes turns to other women, like “convention girls” when he goes out of town for conventions.

It seemed fitting to read Convention Girl while at the San Diego Internatinal ComicCon this weekend, since at the “Con” there are always calls girls working the hotels bars.

A convention girl, for 1960, is another form of call girl, hooker, whore.  Young women go to hotel suite parties and entertain. They are called hostesses, and sometimes they hock product, or just stand around looking good.  We’ve all seen them at conventions, film festivals, whatever — I have.  Even at comic book conventions, where hookers have told me they make good money.

In Cincinatti, Holstein meets Judy.  She’s 22, he’s 42.  He falls in love and so does she, so she says.  Here is where the book cover doesn’t get it right — Judy is jet black straught hair and a deep tan, whereas the female on the cover has red hair and pale skin.  Go figure.

So Holstein convinces her to leave Cincinatti and move to New York City, where he will set her up in an apartment and give her money — a mistress/kept woman situation.  She goes for it.  He says he will divorce his wife and marry her.

He goes to her on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.  he can never sepnd the night unless he tells his wife he had to go out of town.  Judy is bored — he doesn’t know it at first, but she gets back into the convention girl biz to have something to do at night.  She doesn’t need money, he gives her money.  She needs “kicks.” But he is starting to have doubts, she being 2o years younger, and how he is getting to be an old man…

There is one sex scene that uses dialogue to describe a hand job/finger fuck moment betwenn the two.  It reminded me if the sex-against-a-tree scene in Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms, told in dialogue with hints…I am certain that Silverberg was nodding his head to the Hemingway influence:

“There. That’s better, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Lots better.” [he said]

“Stay still. Don’t move.”

“Okay.”

“Hold me here.”

“You like that, do you?”

“Very very much,” she said. “That’s right,” she said a moment later. “Slowly. Don’t rush it. Slow. Keep doing it that way.  Yes, Dan. Yes, that’s it. Just like that.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Dan.  Here. Hold me.”

“Lift up a little.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

For minute after dizzying minute, Holstein gripped her while she performed incredible acrobaics beneath him…

For oral sex, there’s “kiss me there” or “he kissed her loins gently.”

He knows his wife will  not grant a divorce, or take half his wealth, so he plots to murder her.  But after he kills her, making it look like suicide, he finds out that Judy has been whoring, and he loses his mind and…

Reed Nightstand reprinted the book in 1973 as The Man Collector.  The girl on the cover looks more like Judy is described…

Elliott - Man Collector

Connie by Loren Beauchamp (Robert Silverberg)

Posted in Loren Beauchamp, Midbook Books, Robert Silverberg, Vintage Sleaze Paperbacks with tags , , , , on May 25, 2009 by vintagesleazepaperbacks

midwood - connie

While writing as Don Elliott and John Dexter for Nightstand, Robert Silverberg was also writing as Loren Beauchamp, David Challon, and Mark Ryan for Midwood.  Connie (Midwood No. 18) was a huge bestseller for Midwood, going through four “big printings” and two different covers, both by Paul Rader — above and here:

midwood - connie2

I have the third printing with this second cover.

Connie is told in the thid-person and through the eyes of an innocent teenage girl in Brooklyn.  True to Silverberg’s format for many of his softcore titles, he presents a character the reader cares about who has tragedy befall on them, something so terrible it ruins their lives and changes their worldview.

Connie is 17 and a senior in high shcool.  Her steady beau is a freshman at Syracuse.  Since 15, she has had her entire future mapped out with this boy: the “pinning” for a year,  a year of engagement, marriage at age 20;  house, career, three kids, vacations in Europe, grandkids, gwoing old and happy without a worry in the world.

She writes her future husband every day.  One night, she walks out to the mailbox to send a letter and is kidnapped by a gang out 11 jevenile thugs (big deviant theme of the 1950s, along with beatniks, alcoholics, and wayward wantons); they take her to an abandoned shack and gang rape her for hours.  She is a virgin; she has been saving herself for marriage.  While the rape is brutal, and she comes in and out of conscioiusness, she is shocked when she feels pleasures and has the occasional orgasm. She does not understand this and the gang takes this as  a sign that she’s into it.

The rape devastates her parents and numbs her boyfriend.  She is sent to Arizona to stay with her grandparents for the summer and let the scandal die down (her rape was in all the papers).  While her boyfriend said her “soiling” would not affect their plans, he eventually mails her a break-up letter.

Connie is angry with the world, with men — the gang kids who defiled her, the boyfriend who abandoned her.  She takes a walk, goes into a bar, lets an older man buy her some drinks, and goes to his motel room and has sex with him. She enjoys it.  When the guy is alseep, she opens his wallet and takes $10 and decides she will become a hooker.  She will get back at the world and at men by becoming the opposite of what society expected of her, and never giving her pussy away for free.  She will make men pay; she will make the world turn in shame for her depravity; she will defy and rebel, all in the same of money and fast sex.

She moves to San Francisco without telling her parents where she’s off to and sets herself up as a freelance call girl, first with a man who helps her with her luggage.  She is hot, claims to be 22, and men want to date her; but after dinners and before sex, she informs the men a fuck will cost $25.

Within months she has a long list of clients and referrals and is being paid $100 a night by wealthy older men.  She’s ineperienced at sex at first but soon learns things as she new client has his various kinks and wants, from slapping to anal.

Connie is a romance novel, really; it has that feel of the lost little girl who just wants to be loved.  She does fall in love with a rich cilent who sets her up in Los Angeles: a room in a Beverly Hills hotel ($40 a night!) , a salary, a promise to leave his wife and marry her.  The client turns out to be a sadist who just wanted a mistress.  Connie’s heart is broken and she attempts to commit suicide at the Beverly Hotel.

Her doctor, who gives her a blood tranfusion,  falls in love with her and she falls for him and…

The keen reader will know that this book is not written by a woman.  There are too many men’s fantasies going on: her orgasms during rape (though many rape victims report this does happen, adding to the shame of the experience), her quick willingness to become a whore, the way she speaks.  But this book was not meant to be marketed to women like regular romances.

It’s an engaging story. I admit to a guilty pleasure: I could not put it down, the way you can get sucked up in watching a soap opera and not realize it.  There are a lot of typos and printer errors, but these are to be expected from quickie books.

Like the Don Elliotts, the Loren Beauchamps are of higher writing quality than most sleaze books of the 50s-60s.

I have all the Beauchamps and will talk more as I read them this summer, slowly writing my Silverberg monograph.