Hood Ho (Part IV-A)

"There's my bitch," D-Train said confidently, putting some into white powder into a bag. Elizabeth handed over some of her Tuesday night earnings as payment.

She wasn't clear on her path, but being a maid wasn't it. She didn't have power here in the ghetto either, but she had some choice, limited as it was. But to cope, tonight especially, she needed the nose candy.

She tried not to indulge in it very often. She knew it had a corrupting impact on her, made her more willing to do more and more. And sometimes ... like tonight ... she felt so hopeless and helpless and morose that she needed that temporary liberation.

"Give you an extra sniff if you do something for me," D-Train said slyly.

"Sure," Elizabeth said, her mind instantly intrigued by the thought of prolonged ecstasy.

He took her out a block over, to a tent city of homeless men. One of them was tall, his gangly legs sticking out from the bottom of the tent.

"Jack," he said. "This bitch wants to snort some powder off your asshole."

Elizabeth gawked at him. She wanted no such thing ... but she couldn't afford more coke.

"That's right," she said meekly.

D-Train squatted down, watching her pour the fine white powder, coating the old Black man's asshole ... then she took a dollar bill, rolling it up and snorting the stuff off the man's asshole, almost gagging at the smell.

And then, ecstasy. And she reached around and that big Black cock didn't smell so bad anymore.