NSFW Author

Steven came back for me shortly after Ryan had left.

He was carrying a chair, but he sat on it backwards, his arms resting on the back rest.

“Welcome to the Velvet Jungle. I am the owner of this facility and as such, your new owner. This place is a slave brothel. My clients pay for the right to use and abuse girls like you. All of the money you make us is used to repay for your acquisition costs. I paid 355,000$ for the right to have you for roughly 100 weeks, that’s 3550$ per week. As long as you make roughly twice that per week, you and I will get along fine. That’s roughly 1000$ per night. It’s a lot of money, so expect to be working roughly full time, always struggling to keep your head out of the water”

“What if don’t, master ?”, I simply asked.

“Then you and I have a problem. If you go from time to time a little under 7000$ per week, I’ll forgive it. Once or twice under your quota and you’ll get punished. But if it fall below on your costs, there will be hell to pay. You’ll be transferred to the freak show department where people pay extra for amputees or girls with severe deformities. Thanks to Ryan, we can accommodate their needs and bring you back to normal afterwards. ”

“You can?”

“Yeah bitch, while you are stoned, we can cut all your limbs and seal the wounds. As long as we don’t unstone your detached limbs, we can reattach them later. But believe me, it’s not pleasant and men who enjoy that kind of play aren’t know for their gentleness.”

“I will try to serve you well. What am I expected to do, master?”

“Whatever the client wants. We have a steady flow of perverts and your job is to try and convince them to be repeat customers. We might tune you a few times for their tastes, but I think we did a good job. Now, show me what you can do. I want to feel your pussy…”

Steven stood up and unzipped his pants, revealing thru his boxers that he was already fully erect. As horrified as I was, I didn’t have much of a choice and quickly helped him lose his boxers in addition to his pants.

I guided him toward the chair so he could sit on it and kneeled in front of him to suck him and lubricate his cock with my saliva.

I could taste that he had not taken a shower since he fucked his last girl, probably another one of his slaves, and my saliva reactivated her scent.

I didn’t mind that part, she was just as a prisoner as I was, abused by a system which we couldn’t escape from.

His shaft however represented all that was wrong with our country. My first few weeks with Patrick and Emily had been surprisingly good for me and I had almost came to accept that there was something noble about being a servant for 2 years.

Steven however, in a single speech, managed to make me regret my choices despite knowing that it had saved my father’s life.

I still jumped on Steven’s lap and inserted in my dried up vagina his lubricated cock. My inner walls may have been like sandpaper, but Steven didn’t seem to mind.

Without any cooperation from his part, I had to lift my ass from his sweaty thighs myself and try to stimulated him as much as I could.

I didn’t try to kiss him, but he french kissed me anyway, playing with my gigantic boobs. I accelerated and eventually, managed to make him climax inside of me.

Out of respect for the next girl that would come after me, I resumed my blow job to clean his penis of both of our cum. It disgusted me, but it also ensured he would stop kissing me while leaving him in a good mood.

I wouldn’t win points from him via sexual prowess, but I needed to convince him to send me more clients. I preferred to prostitute myself with all of my limbs still attached…

I was left alone without any additional words, discarded like a kleenex after wanking, but it was better than being beaten, something he was fully entitled to do. This time, I went out without bruises. I didn’t expect to be so lucky with his own clients.

A man came into the room shortly after and tied a collar once again around my neck to carry me without a word by a leash.

I was pushed inside what could only be described as a cell, where two naked girls with collars were already sitting on the only furniture of the room: a single mattress placed directly on the concrete floor, without any sheets.

Both girls were beautiful, but I quickly realized that they were also completely identical to each other, with a slight resemblance to me.

Their tattoo indicated they were called Stephanie and Chloe, and both were trembling of fear.