EXTRACT FOR
The Legend Of Marshal Jim Witt
(Shooter3704)

     The unexpected closure of the big sawmill had caused an increase in crime in Graysville and the surrounding area. Hungry men with a family to feed had no trouble stealing to provide food. Women had less trouble than some of the men. That was how Jim met Alice Strickland. A constable arrested her after finding her inside someone's home to which Alice had not been invited.

     "What's going to happen to me now?" she asked Jim from her cell.

     "You go to trial next week," Jim told her. He couldn't help noticing Alice was a pretty girl of about nineteen or twenty. It was apparent she hadn't had a bath is some time and her hair was a wild mess. "I guess you'll go to prison after that."

     "I don't think I'm going to care much for that," she said. "I wasn't going to take much, just some food.  I wouldn't have done that if I hadn't needed too."

     "You married?" Jim asked her.

     "No, not any more. My husband got killed a year ago at the sawmill. Big log got away and rolled right over him.  Killed him as dead as a hammer. Ain't there something I can do to keep from going to prison?"

     "Like what?" Jim asked.

     "Hell, I don't know," she said sadly. "Work it off or something."

     "What can you do?" he asked.

     "I can cook and clean house," she said. "I can sew some.  You know, the things a woman usually does."

     "Not a lot of call for that stuff these days," Jim said. "What else can you do?"

     "I can fuck," she said simply. "I'm good at that. Everybody says so." She had Jim's full attention by then.

     "Really? If I can get you on my work gang are you willing to fuck over at Sulphur Springs and work off your fine?"

     "I guess so," she answered. "I sure as hell don't want to go to prison. What would I have to do?"

     "Fuck for money," Jim answered bluntly. "You ever let a man put his dick in your mouth?"

     "My mouth! Are you joking?  Why would I want to do that? That's nasty!"

     "Not really," Jim said. Betty Smithson had demonstrated French style and he had really liked it. "It feels good and some women seem to like doing it. I got a couple of gals doing it and they make a lot of money.  That way you can work when your monthly visitor comes."

     "I ain't sure about sucking some guy's pecker," she said doubtfully. "I got another hole for when the visitor comes. My husband used to corn hole me from time to time."

     "You like getting fucked in your ass?" he asked.

     "Yeah, its okay I guess but I rather have it where it's supposed to go. You think you can keep me out of prison?"

     "Maybe," Jim said taking the key from the wall where it was kept. He opened the cell and told her to go with him. He drove her to the resort and told Betty to get her cleaned up. "Do something with that mop of hair, too," he told Betty.

     While the whores got the new woman cleaned up, Jim went to check on the remodeling and repair. He found Willie overseeing the job.

     "About done, Boss," the big black man reported. "Just got a few things to finish up. Sure cost a lot to get that indoor plumbing done. I'll bet this is the only place in this part of the country that's got privies inside. We got bath tubs on every floor with hot water from that boiler."

     "Yeah, but it will be worth it," Jim said. "I got the word out in Macon and Atlanta that we're open and got a nice place."

     "Seen you bringing in a new gal," Willie said. "Reckon she's any good?"

     "Don't know, but after they get a couple of layers of dirt off her, I intend on finding out."

     "I'd be willing to try her out for you, boss," the black man said with a sly grin.

    "You got to be out of your head," Jim said. "A nigger and a white woman? The Klan would hang your black ass for you."

     "Maybe so, but I sure wouldn't be the one to tell 'em," Willie said laughing. "You may be missing out on some real good money. Some of the colored men around here are still working and they'd pay good money to diddle a white woman. Shit, boss, niggers would come from all over to have some white pussy."

     Jim didn't reply, but he was thinking about it. It would be a novel thing, indeed. He remembered what Al Norton told him about a show they put on where a stud nigger fucked a white woman and he charged folks to watch the show.  Jim left Willie and went in search of Betty Smithson.

     "You ever think about changing your luck?' he asked her. He found her in the parlor waiting for Alice Strickland to finish bathing.

     "What the hell are you talking about?" she asked him. "What's wrong with my luck?"

     "That's what they call it when a white man fucks a colored girl. You ever think about fucking a black man?"

     "Now what would make you ask me something like that, Marshal?"

     "Don't get in a snit. I'm just making conversation," Jim said.  "Heard about a deal when I was up in Macon a while back. Got me to thinking about it.  I noticed you didn't answer me, Betty."

     "Shoot, a girl could get her ass whipped for doing something like that. The KKK is mighty strong around here. They don't take kindly to that sort of going on."

     "Bullshit," Jim snorted. "The Klan is a bunch of old farts that get together, drink moonshine, and talk. They'll burn a cross a few times a year, but that's all they do.  Maybe they run around in white robes and scare niggers some, but they're a bunch of cowards, if you ask me. You still didn't answer me and I'm beginning to think you've done fucked a colored man."

     "I never said no such thing," she said obviously agitated. 

     "No, you didn't say it, but I think you have and you're worried that it will piss me off. I promise you it won't piss me off. You fucked a nigger, didn't you?"

     "So what if I have?" she snapped. "Ain't nobody's business if I have."

"Yes it is somebody's business," Jim said pleasantly. "It's my business. Tell me about it, Betty."

     "Man, I don't want to get myself or anybody else in trouble," she wailed. "You promise you won't get mad?"

     "I said so, didn't I?" Jim said. "Who did you fuck? Was it Willie Harrison?"

     "Yeah, it was Willie and a cousin of his called Frog. Look Marshal, I really like to fuck and sometimes I get tired of selling it. I just want to have a good time and fuck somebody for fun.  No harm done to anybody, was there?"

     "No I don't see any harm," Jim said. "Are any of the other girls fucking niggers?"

     "Look, boss, I ain't one to be telling things about anybody else.  Why are you asking me all these questions, anyway?"

     "Willie said there were colored men who'd pay big money to fuck a white woman," Jim explained. "I'm just exploring the possibilities. I didn't even know there were white women willing to do that. I got to think about it some more." He did think about it, and decided to go back to Macon and talk with Al Norton.



* * * *



     "I got to envy you, Jim," Norton said after Jim told him of his idea. "I got a problem developing here. We got a newly appointed chief of police and a newly elected prosecutor. They're law and order men so things are going to get sticky around here and mighty soon.  I got some women I can send your way if you can use them. Maybe I'll have to send some clients your way too.  Like I said, things are getting tight around here."

     "But is there any money in getting white women for niggers?" Jim persisted. 

     "Oh hell yeah! There's a whole lot of money to be made. When the word gets around you got white women for niggers they'll come from all over to get some. You might want to think about putting on a live show. A lot of white men will pay to watch a nigger fuck a white woman.  Get yourself a buck with a big dick and a half decent looking white gal and the dollars will come rolling in."

     "Maybe so," Jim said skeptically. "But it sounds like a good way to get a black stud killed and some white whore beat to death. How did you manage your shows?"

     "I brought some talent in from out of town and after the show I sneaked them back out of town. You won't have the same problem I have. You are the law down there. Who's going to get involved? Of course you wouldn't want to fly in the face of the church or the Klan, but you won't have much of a problem.  You would want to keep the show away from your regular house, just in case."

     Jim Witt went back to Graysville with his head buzzing with ideas. He went to see Willie just as soon as he got back.

     "How much would it take to convert that old barn over there on the back side of the property to a theater?" he asked Willie.

     "A few dollars for labor and a few more for material," Willie replied after giving the question some thought. "More if you want seats like they have at the moving picture show."

     "I was thinking some good seats down front and some bleacher seats in the back," Jim said. He told Willie his plan for a sex show. 

     "It sounds to me like you're fixing to get some poor niggers hurt," Willie said. "Ain't no way word wouldn't get back to them Klan assholes. They'd get drunk enough to hang some poor old boy just for the hell of it."

     "What if I brought some buck in from somewhere else and got him out of town right after the fucking?"

     "Wouldn't make much difference," Willie said. "They'd have their blood up and some nigger would have to pay. The first colored son of a bitch they ran across more than likely."

     "Who's the chief Klansman or whatever they call it?" 

     "Grand Dragon. That would be the mayor, Mike Miller," Willie answered with a grin. "Supposed to be a big secret, but everybody knows. What are you thinking, boss?"

     "I'm thinking there may be a way to take the starch out of Miller and the Klan," Jim said. "Go ahead and start on that barn. You need some more cash?"

     "No sir. I'm good for a while. Here's something to think about. Miss Miller likes to play around on the Mister.  I know for a fact that she fucks old Mister Rawlins over at the feed store. My cousin, Frog, works at the feed store and he told me he caught them getting it together in a back room.  Frog said she was yelling for the old man to fuck her harder. Old man Rawlins told Frog if he ever told, he'd kill him. 'Course Frog told it."

     "That is interesting," Jim said. "I'll see you later, Willie." 

Jim had noticed Sara Jane Miller looking at him on several occasions and now he knew why.  Sara Jane was a pretty woman of about forty, but childless and well preserved.  He waited for an opportunity to make his move and the mayor gave it to him a few days later.

     "I'm going to be out of pocket for a few days," Mayor Miller told Jim. "I've got a mayor's conference in Atlanta.  I hate to ask, but would you mind keeping an eye on Sara Jane while I'm gone? It seems like there's a lot of mischief going on these days. Somebody broke into our neighbor's house the night before last."

     "Sure, I'll be happy to keep an eye on her," Jim said. "How long are you going to be gone?"

     "Week or ten days," the mayor said. "I'm driving over to the train station at Weeks and taking the train on up. I'm leaving early in the morning. I'll tell Sara Jane you'll be around some. By the way, I hear that you 'bout got that old hotel up to snuff."

    "It's about there," Jim said. "Maybe I'll let your wife cook me a homemade supper while you're gone."

    Mayor Miller had no more than got out of sight when his wife came calling on the marshal.

     "Marshal Witt, I hear you're going to be watching me while Mike is gone," she said coming into his office.

     "That's right, Sara," Jim said. "I'll have both eyes on you, so behave yourself."

     "Ain't no fun in behaving," she replied with a merry laugh. "You come on over for dinner about noon. I'm frying some chicken."  Jim told her he would be there.



* * * *



     "As I'm the wife of the mayor I hear things," Sara Jane said after they finished the noon meal.

     "What kind of things?"

     "I hear you run a house of ill repute," she said. "Is there anything to that?"

    "Would it make any difference if there was something to it?" he countered.

     "No, not to me. I have a 'live and let live' attitude about most things. So it's true?"

     "It is," he answered. "I plan on having the best whorehouse in the state. You interested in working some in your spare time?"

     "Why Marshal Jim, how you talk!" she said and blushed. 

     "Beats working as a seamstress," Jim said. "I hear that's what you do."

     "Sewing and diddling are two different things," she said still blushing furiously. "Still..."

     "Still, what?"

     "I just wondered how much those women make doing...what they do."

     "A top whore can make a hundred dollars a month if she's willing to work at it. If she's willing to perform the French arts she can make even more."

     "What, pray tell, is the French arts?"

     "That's when a woman satisfies a man with her mouth," Jim said bluntly. Her mouth dropped open in shock.  "You mean you never heard of that? Hell, it's the coming thing. They've been sucking dicks in Europe for years."