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Showing posts with label sex slave. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sex slave. Show all posts

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Sex Slaves - Part I

 **Before I begin telling you about my dream, I'm going to first start off by letting you know right now this is a long and complex dream, but is well worth the dramatic read.  Furthermore, the material may not be suitable for children and some adults.  There is sexual content, sexual intentions, sexual trade activity and language.  Read at your own discretion.**

Do you ever have a dream that you awake from and fall back asleep just to dream it again?  Do you ever have a dream that shares aspects of your life events and wonder if they are repressed memories?  Do you ever think your dreams are so life-like that they foretell present or future events in someone's life?  That's how this dream was to me, and in so many ways it showed me things that I could never fathom.  I don't know if my writing will reflect how my dream truly was, but it was dramatically showcased enough to win an Emmy Award if it was a movie (right here you are suppose to laugh with me), haha!


PART ONE
We were down on our luck, Jordan Supon and I. We were a couple living in impoverish conditions.  But not exactly like the impoverish person that lives on the street or living in a shelter, but a couple who couldn't put food in our mouths and didn't want to get to the point of no return.  We wanted to be proactive and thought of ways to not get to the point of being beggars on the street.  Jordan came to a conclusion after a long list of other ideas that failed us.  An idea that we debated on and argued over for hours.  An idea that we pleaded with God over that is was the only sure-fire way of stabilizing us.  The idea that we despised to do, but was stuck imagining it so we'd get the courage to follow through with it.
"I can't do it!" I shout holding tears back.
"I don't want us to have to do it either," Jordan says.  "Do you think I want someone else to have you?  It will devastate me!  I'm afraid I'll grow angry knowing that and will do something to that poor bastard who didn't know what was coming."
I broke down into tears.  Moments later I collect my composure and say, "do you think I will be okay seeing you with another woman?  This is probably what you want!  Something . . . anything different, even if it is putting us in danger!"
"That is not it whatsoever!  Hun, I love you, and I'm only doing this to help us out," Jordan says sincerely.  "If this is the only thing I wanted, I would have only put myself in danger and never make you apart of this.  But we are apart of each other and we have to do this together whether we want to or not."  Jordan held my arms and looked me dead in the eyes.  His sincerity and the way he looked at me in desperation gave me the nudge I most dreaded - I nodded my head in agreement and he made the call.  We are going to sell our sex for money.  Nothing more, nothing less.  We have now gone to the lowest class that I never knew that we would.  We were not going to be one anymore - it won't matter if it were one or 20 other sex partners, we knew it will mess with our minds and nothing like that will ever be the same between us.  But knowing me, I had to see some light on this decision as a way to cope.  So, I sat there on the living room floor still in a state of shock while Jordan was in the other room on the phone, reminding myself I'm selling sex, but I wasn't a prostitute.  I was not doing this to profit, I was doing this to survive.  And I wasn't like any other drug-addicted whore, I am clean and refined.  This was my licentiousness. 

Jordan and I walk down the street of downtown.  I don't know where we are meeting these people; Jordan kept pretty quiet about that.  I kept my head up high so nobody would see my fear, and heck,  so I wouldn't see it either.  I don't know how Jordan was feeling, but he looked like a man on a mission ready to do business and get it over with.  We begin to come up on a small nail salon and a tall haggard lady is outside filing her long overgrown fake nails.  I took it as her waiting for clients or at least trying to advertise her business outside as people walk by, but in my heart I also knew she must be the one we were coming to see.  I realize right then and there why Jordan asked me to dress classy right along with him, and my fur coat definitely showed it.  We were pretending to be high-dollar call girls (and boys).  Like we knew what we were doing.  Guess putting on a brave face paid off!
"You all want something?  Nails done?  We do male manis and pedis too!"
Jordan said something to her in code to let her know it was us.  We were outside for a few minutes and as they spoke, their words began to fade as I got lost in thought watching this woman.  Blue nails, ugly stained teeth, raggedy old skin, older looking than her age.  I watched her smack her gum like her shit doesn't stink.  I said to myself I wasn't as bad as her - thank God!  All I could imagine after looking at her physical features, is wondering what can't be seen, like the diseases she might carry knowing she will be having sex with my fiance!  I grew hatred for this woman I didn't even know, and I even began to feel my face tighten up in front of them.  She noticed.  "You okay, Doll?"
"Yeah, just peachy," I say sarcastically, and continue.  "So, if we give you these services, would you throw in some free nails for me?"  I had nothing to lose.  Plus, I don't ever get a chance to do my nails because I didn't have the money.  I was also thinking like a business person.  If I get in with her enough, become better acquainted, maybe I can draw up other people who would gladly do this shit with her and whomever else she's got, and leave me and Jordan out of it, one of these days.
"Sure, Doll," she replies to me, then looks at Jordan.  "Right this way you two."  She brought us in past the salon area to what appeared to be a break room with a table and a couple of lounge chairs.  She walks back outside and lights up a cigarette.  I could tell she was a bit skittish about anyone seeing this transaction go down.  Also, from the looks of it, she was waiting for her husband or lover (who knows what he was to her!) to get there since I didn't see anyone else there besides the three of us.  It was quite awhile before he showed and I was growing restless.  I was here to do a job and if people won't be on time, then they are disrespecting my time and my services.  I started to walk up to the lady to ask when this guy was going to get here, but halfway to her she perks up outside as someone came her way.  It was HIM.  The man I was going to have sex with.  The bastard who will violate me anyway he wants to since he's paying me in exchange.  I felt like I was about to lose my virginity all over again . . . nervous, afraid, and yet inviting.
Jordan comes out from the back slowly, as if walking out slow will stop time somehow.  As he was walking out I was being introduced.  His name was Buck, or Bo, or something, I don't remember, but let's just call him Buck.  And let's call the lady Lyla so that we can differentiate everybody in the dream.  "Hi, my name is Angela."  Shit!  I use my real name, and how can I be so casual about this?  How does someone act in this type of a situation?  Be cool, I tell myself.  Buck looks like he just crawled off the couch after drinking a 6-pack.  He has a stained white tank top on, blue jeans and a belt that seemed to be holding up his beer gut rather than his pants.  He was grey-haired and a bit scruffy on his face.  His eyes were blue and they appear to show a more sensitive side to him than his exterior does.  (In real life I don't know who Buck or Lyla are).
Lyla eagerly says, "Follow me everyone, " and we follow her to the back.  She shuts the salon down, turns off the lights, we enter the break room . . . pass the break room after another door.  We were going further back.  How far back does this salon go, I ask myself?  By this point, Jordan and I were so caught up thinking what we were going to do next, that we didn't speak much after this.  We were also mysteriously allured by the unknown.  Lyla turns on a dim hallway light.  "Welcome!  This is where we stay.  Nothing fancy but it's very close to work," Lyla jokes.  Buck was enamored by Lyla's demeanor and he was getting excited like a damn dog, almost panting for a treat he knew he was about to receive.  I was his treat.  Lyla enters a room to the right and turns on another dim, but this time, red lamp, assigning me and Buck to that room.  Lyla smirks and looks back at us as she escorts Jordan in front of her to take him somewhere else.  Jordan looks back and I feel terrible we couldn't turn back now.  "Don't worry, Doll," she says, "You'll have him back in no time."
I stood in the hallway with my neck down and my shoulders up with guilt and anxiety.  Suddenly, Buck excitedly says to Lyla, "be where I can see you!"  They both smile at one another.  My heart sank.  Not only was it mine, and probably Jordan's as well, worst nightmare to do something like this, but now we'd have to witness each other's act played out.  "Now you're mine," he whispers to me and hoists my body up in his arms and clutches one of his hands on my vagina to hold me up.  He shouts one last time to Lyla who was already in the living room at the edge of the hall, "take it slow and warm him up real good before I see him FUCK you!"  My ears burn with fury, but I held my composure.  I thought I'd have some power in this, but I was powerless.
He carries me into the room.  The bed is against the door side wall - a good position just to see out enough to watch his whore fuck my love.  He threw me down on to the bed.  He told me all he wants to do is enjoy touching my body for awhile.  This nightmare is being drawn out when I planned for it to be quicker than how it's going.  First he was late, and now he wants to go slow?  I kept glancing out of the doorway from the bed but I saw nothing.  I tried to stay focused on Buck, but it was really hard.  Buck wasn't at the least concerned to look with me, even though he said he wanted to watch Lyla.
He notices that I keep glancing towards the living room and advises, "She'll let me know when it's time.  It's our alone time now."  He strips off my clothing one by one.  First, my coat then by blouse.  He caresses ever so gently his fingers against my skin as he slips my garments off.  He kisses my shoulders and my neck.  I was stiff as a board.  It felt so wrong on so many levels, but I couldn't help to know how pleasant it felt.  I imagine he was not real to get through this ordeal.  After I was stripped bare, he lays me down gently, and he follows on top.  He was still dressed.  I couldn't help but desperately look out to the living room, but Buck was quite large and obscured my view every so often.  I still saw nothing.  But I did hear some commotion from the other room that I couldn't make out exactly.  But I knew it was Jordan and I just prayed he was okay.  I felt Buck's scratchy beard on my cheek, he keeps kissing my neck.  He shot up and undid his belt and his pants drop.  He was now only in his tank and boxer shorts.  This was it, I said to myself.  He jumps on me, more aroused than before.  He asks me to hold his penis.  It was throbbing.  He was dry humping me as I held his penis so he'd get off manually.  As he was sliding up and down my body, he looks into my eyes.  He stops abruptly with what he was doing.  Uh oh, he saw the fear in my eyes.  He quickly hops off the bed and puts his pants back on.  As he was doing so he asks sternly, "You've never done this before, have you?"
I sat silent.
"Come on, spit it out."  He calms down and sat at the edge of the bed and gestures me to sit at the edge of the bed with him, so I did, bringing the sheets with me to cover me up.  He passes me my bra to put back on.  He sighs, "So, what's the deal?"
I cracked.  "We need the money, badly.  We need to eat."
"I thought you've done this before?" He asked.  I shook my head slowly confirming a no.  "We are paying you like you know what you're doing, so I technically can take what I want . . . and I easily can."  There was a pause.  I got a knot in my throat.  I palmed both my knees.  Then Buck says, "but I won't."  A sigh of relief came over me.  He asks me how everything came to be and I told him.  He began to feel sorry for mine and Jordan's situation.  He also listened to me how all this sex trade made me feel, saw my point-of-view and began to feel bad about it because it was some insight on something he never thought about.  I start to connect with Buck and realize that he has some compassion, and he showed me that compassion by reading my eyes rather than ignoring it to get his rocks off.  "You need money . . . I need sex.  In some way we are both addicts, in other ways we are both desperate for it," Buck concludes.  He made sense.  He was right.  We sat and talked for awhile, my stiff shoulders relaxed and my fear-filled face was now with smiles of understanding.
Soon though, in the distance we hear Lyla grunt out a call of arousal, "are you ready, Babycakes?"
Buck looks at me, nods and says to me, "I'll take care of this, don't you worry.  You two shouldn't be doing this."  He calls back to Lyla, "um, sweetie, I don't think I want to do it this way this time."
She comes in view with Jordan.  I scurry to focus on them.  They couldn't see us down the hall into the room, but we could see them.
"What!?  This was your idea!" She yells across to Buck.
"They don't want this and I don't want this for them," Buck says trying to reason with her.  "They are not who you think they are."
"I know they're not," Lyla yelps back.  "I made this little pup squeak.  He couldn't hold it in any longer when I told him I was going to hurt his darling young girlfriend if he didn't tell me.  I knew something was up and, you know what?  I kind of like it."  She pulls Jordan's naked body behind her naked body, maneuvering him with cloth she has tied around his wrist and just enough lead for her to pull on it like he was her puppet and she was his puppet master.  "Now that I know he doesn't really want to do this, makes me really want to do it more."
"Lyla, please don't do it," Buck again pleads with her.  "They only want food.  We can share food."
But Lyla didn't listen.  Her mind was set.  I look at Jordan and he looks exhausted, like he was beaten to think he was no more than Lyla's slave.  He was spacey and had no life in him.  He was so drained that he rested his head on her back as they stood there in a doggy-style position.  It felt like all I could do is watch.
She rubs her ass against Jordan.  Lyla shouts to me, "Hey!  If he didn't want this, his dick wouldn't be so hard!"  And she showed it to me.  She did get me thinking.  Why would he be hard unless he likes it a little?  But, I also know just because a body part is aroused doesn't mean mentally one wants to have sex.  I also hoped perhaps Jordan in someway had strength left in him to push himself to get a hard-on to get this madness over with.  "Stick it in.  Stick it in me!"  Lyla kept repeating to Jordan.  But when that didn't work, she grabs both of the cloths on his arms with one hand, and with the other hand reaches under her and guides his penis inside of her.  She let out a moan as he enters, almost like she was throwing it in my face.  He thrusts hard into her.  I see the muscles in his buttocks going to work, and I become strangely aroused in the moment thinking about our love making and became a little jealous.  He thrusts again deep inside of her with hatred and disgust that he started to huff.  "See?  This is how it should be done," Lyla chuckles and moans with hurtful pleasure in between.  "Get 'em mad and they fuck you like a wild animal - good and hard!"
I see Jordan lift his eyes up to me.  I know he couldn't see me in the dark room, but he wanted me to see him try.  I knew that face, it was like a 'sorry' to me because he was about to cum.  Lyla felt that he was about to as well and reminded him that the transaction is not made unless he empties out into her.  His huffing turns soft and his lips were still.  He thrusts one last time and let out an awe of relief and came inside the old hag. She doubles over in pleasure and pushes him away from her.  He falls exhausted to the floor and I run out to be by his side.
"Well young lady, " Lyla concludes, "He doesn't last long, but at least he has a few squirts in him.  I got him to cum about five times before we came out here and that was only foreplay.  He must have liked something I was doing."  She was trying to rub it in my face as if I was not adequate enough for Jordan.
We got the money and left.  We didn't talk about that night at all to each other.  It was best left unsaid, even though apart of me wishes to understand how he could have been so aroused.  We stop at a gas station and pick up lottery tickets and some food.  The day after we end up winning the lottery and looked for a house in a safe neighborhood.  It goes to show you when one door closes, another one opens.  When life challenges you, some good will come from it.

Read Sex Slave - Part II to read the continuation of the dream with a slight twist.   



Sex Slaves - Part II

Sex Slaves - Part II

 I woke up briefly from the last dream, but went back into another dream quite similar.  Jordan Supon and I are a couple, although he didn't appear in this dream.  Laura Hubbard, one my best friends, is in the dream with me instead.  We are roommates, and just like my last dream, we were living in a small dumpy apartment.  It was considered in the upper side of the crackhead neighborhood.  It was all that we could afford.  Somehow, I was involved in the sex trade industry.  (I must be watching too much MSNBC on this!).  It's not like the normal sex trade where guy or girl purchases a delicate newly blossomed flower, or at the least one that is not wilted.  It's where one sex trade company exchanges with another sex trade company, and their ripe "soldiers" are technically forced to have sexual encounters with each other.  The idea is to insult the community, leave a mark that these companies were all powerful, and use these sex slaves as a game of profit and respect.  Each member had to perform to their best and get judged by the opposite company, merely by what each sex slave says about the other.  It could be your life if you didn't perform well.  I don't know why I was involved, but I can only assume it was because of my earlier dream.  I remember not wanting to be involved, and feeling disgusted for it - but I was still a complete novice, and was at this point too hungry for money to care.
While Laura and I were at home, Laura doing her toenails on the couch and I was in the bathroom getting ready for something, a big man barges into our apartment startling the both of us.  "You are up.  Let's go," the man calls out.  He must be one of the guards or summoners for the company.
"What is this?"  Laura demands.
I didn't even get out of the bathroom before I heard shuffling around. The guard grabs her unknowingly that she wasn't me.  "You're coming with me.  Don't you try and fight this . . . you all do and never win."
"Wait!"  I shout across the room as I see Laura dragging her feet unwilling to leave the house.  "I'm the one being summoned, not her."
"Summoned?  What are you talking about?" Laura asks inquisitively.  I gesture to her to be quiet.  She has a heart of a lion and I love her for it, but this was not the time to be tough.
"I don't know what game you girls are playing," the guy says, "but now you both are coming with me.  I don't know who I need and I'm not bringing the wrong person because one of you wanted to help out a poor friend.  You're both coming!"  With a swift move this guy was able to hold us both in each one of his arms.  Laura was kicking and screaming.  Of course I didn't want to go, but I knew what I was up against and the possible consequences that I didn't even put up a fight.  It was like they broke me because I knew that wasn't normally my attitude toward things.
Next thing I knew we were at this house.  It was a quaint Mediterranean-style house with a a tropical garden to relax in.  A lady enters with cigarette in hand.  It was none other than Lyla (from my previous dream!).  The woman I was both envious over because of her being highly respected in our community, and despised because she was very good at manipulating almost anyone to do things they normally wouldn't.  "Got two for the price of one?  Nice."  She looks Laura up and down sizing her up.  "I'm sure we can break her in and find someone for her."
"Fuck you!"  Laura yelps, the guard holds her back by her arms from getting at Lyla.  The guard chuckles with admiration for Laura's gumption.
Lyla chuckles back, but for her own disturbed reasons.  "Ah, we have a wild one.  I know just the right person for you."  There was a pause, and then she says, "Wildcat."  The nickname she gave Laura.  Laura takes a large swallow, nervous what Lyla meant, but kept her head high.  Lyla walks out of the room, soon followed by the guard after he locks the door for no escape.
Laura and I stand in the middle of the room, bodies hunched over like inferior children who are awaiting to be told what to do next.  "What's going on, Angela?  Am I . . . are you . . . are you a prosti--", Laura asks, but doesn't finish her sentence before I abruptly answer with a 'no'.  But she doesn't let up.  "Because of you I'm going to be raped, ain't I?"  I couldn't answer her.  Laura's bottom lip quivers.  I felt ashamed.
Minutes pass and we both were now seated on a love seat together looking out the window.  I was daydreaming thinking how could I be doing this again and awaiting the inevitable.  I assumed Laura was thinking how much she hates me for indirectly putting her in this situation.
Laura broke the silence.  "I can do this!"  Wiping away tears.  "I can.  I can do this.  It's like anybody else, right?"
I could only stare at her as if it was okay for her to imagine it that way . . . whatever makes her more comfortable.  I certainly understood.  Laura, in my dream, had a reputation for being promiscuous, so she wanted to imagine it's like any other time she was having casual sex and not feel as used as this night will prove.  Her coping mechanism is the same as mine.  I could sympathize how she felt in that moment as I remembered how I had to use that same coping skill the very first time I needed to, and it's quite scary not knowing whether it will work or not, and if so, how long will she be able to cope?
It starts to become dusk out before we were graced by Lyla's appearance again.  "You, in that room, " Lyla tells Laura and points to the room at the end of the short hallway.  Laura walks hesitantly towards that room.  I watch her walk towards that room.  I'm feeling terrible about it, and just once I want her to see my face so she'd know.  But she never looks back.  "You're guy will be in there in a minute."  Lyla looks at me now.  "Welcome back, " smiling with a small lip curl and a tooth showing.  "You're man is already in your room.  This is your room."  She gestures her arm to the first room to the right.
I enter the room.  I'm only partly in.  Door still open.  Hall light shines through the room.  Darkness.  All I could see were silhouettes of shapes, and some of the corners of the walls.  Laura had the bigger room, which was next to mine.  The only reason I knew this was when we were coming up to the house I saw the sliding glass door from that room, which leads to the garden - and only large rooms have that!  Mine was small in comparison when I could see the walls under the dark shadows.
All I could think is this man is in here somewhere as my heart races with fear and, paradoxically, with excitement.  All I could think of is that Laura has no idea that the person that she's going to have sex with is going to do whatever he can to win this game of sex, and likely in the most ruthless way.
These guys in the trade were bred to do such, otherwise they were considered worthless and put to death.  The women on the other hand were treated fairer because they wanted the women to be delicate and sensual by nature, and overall be rated by their counterpart as such, as well as rated for how good they felt from within.  If a women didn't get rated well, they didn't get paid, and likely wouldn't be chosen much at all to participate, furthering her to poorer conditions.  Laura knew none of this!  She just thought it was sex to please a man, maybe put on a little show for him and be done.  Oh, now how I wish I could explain to her that it wasn't so, but she was gone behind close doors and walls.
I turn my head back and saw Lyla slowly closing my room door.  For a brief second I saw a man walking past Lyla towards the room Laura is in.  That's got to be him!  And boy, did he look like an old brute!  It looks like he came straight from the Viking Ages, old but ready to fight, or so it seems.  Lyla shuts the door.
The window in front of me was boarded up.  I can see a little moonlight shine through the few open spaces, but that's it.  I don't say anything.  I didn't want to grab attention to myself.  But I knew eventually him and I would have to feel around the room for something to lean against for comfort, and it might be each other.
I'm facing to the left side of the room when I feel an arm grace my right side waist.  Nothing said.  He then intentionally graces the left side of my waist with his other arm, firmly grabbing his hand across my backside to bring me closer to him.  This is it!  It's about to happen.  I have to expect the worst, as I should!
I put my hands out to know the body of my evening suitor.  My hands straight out in front me lay flat against his abdomen - he was taller than me and shirtless!  I knew he had pants on and wasn't completely naked because on my way to lifting up my hands to feel for him, one of my hands hit his belt buckle.  From just the touch of his abdomen I could tell he was generally fit.  He lowers his head down to the crease of my neck and starts to breathe gently inches away from my skin.  It gave me a surprising rush and goosebumps raised all over my body.  He lifts his left hand to my neck and with one passionate move of his finger, my shirt strap lies dangling down my arm - he begins to kiss my neck softly and slowly.  This is not what I was expecting at all!  Wasn't he suppose to ravage me, or else?
It was hard for me to admit since I have a fiance, but it felt really good to feel this man's touch.  Perhaps it was because it's been a long time that my body was explored like that, or perhaps it is the taboo nature of the unknown thrill, or maybe because since most senses are limited in the dark, my other ones were heightened.
I maneuvered my hands upward against his chest and then down his arms.  I hear a low groan escape his mouth as he lifts his head away from my neck.  My hands were pulsating with heated pleasure.  I felt excitement between my legs that I normally wouldn't want to happen in a situation like this, but it was different with this unnamed and no-faced man.  I wasn't feeling pleasure because I was being pleased, but because I was pleasuring a man!  That's got to mean something, I tell myself.
He finds my face with one hand and leans in with a kiss.  His tongue gently caresses mine and the outer parts of my lips.  I suckle on his bottom lip and we mutually separate to ponder in awe.
"Wow," I say out loud.  He reciprocates with a "nice".  I continue as I trace the silhouette outlining his head, "I don't know about you, but I hope it's the same for you, but that felt beyond amazing.  Nothing I've ever felt before!"  My biggest question to myself is if I should follow that feeling.
"It was definitely amazing.  That's got to mean we have some sort of connection," he says.  That's all I had to hear was that it meant something to him, to validate my own thinking as I thought the same.  As soon as I heard him say that, I kissed him again . . . deeper.  He grabs one of my legs and brings it to rest on his hip.  We both stand together, closer physically and emotionally connected.  Now all I could think about over and over again while in the darkness with him is that I hope he is good looking because everything else, like his kisses and hands, were good to me already.
We fumble together a short distance to the foot of the bed.  Kissing each other's faces as if lovers meeting together again after years of separation.  Kissing and fondling each body part because we yearned to feel apart of something good again - sex and love like it's suppose to be.  I felt around for his belt and undid it.  He pulls it quickly from the loops of his pants, and I start to unbutton them.  I didn't get far before he stops me by grabbing me close again.  He squeezes my ass and pulls my pelvis against his.  I wrap my arms around his neck and we both simultaneously did what was innate to us - he lifts me up by my ass and I help by jumping up to wrap my legs around his torso.  His pants drop unprovoked, and this excites him further as I feel his penis against one of my butt cheeks.
Things were heating up and we continue to huff and puff quietly between kisses.  Suddenly a light knock on the door, and it was Lyla.  "I don't hear anything in there.  You know you can't leave until I do."  At this point I didn't want to leave.  I'll stay as quiet as I have to to enjoy this moment that will soon pass me by and may never get back.  It was the best thing in a long time.  We giggle softly, child-like, at Lyla's comment because she didn't know that I was actually with a man who wanted to take his time, care for my well-being and didn't follow their rules.
I feel him slip one of his hands further under my skirt and his finger reaches my clitoris.  He lightly rubs, but not to excite me too much.  We fall over together side-by-side on the bed.  I was feeling wild and free.  So free, I didn't have much to lose for what I was going to say next to him.  "I need to see your face!  Who is this man that makes me feel so good?"  I couldn't see, but I know he smirked.
I scoot up to the head of the bed and he's over me reaching toward the boarded up window.  He grabs a board, holds tight and grunts as he pulls.  One frees, and light by the moon casts a blue-white hue inside the room.  Just enough, like a candlelight from across the room.  He gets down from the window and crawls back down onto me.  Impatient I was waiting for him to look at me.  I see him blink and he turns to look down at me.  His eyes were beautiful!  He was beautiful!  I was no prize in comparison to him.  Now I see in that dim light what I needed to see, and it all matched up perfectly!  I was on cloud nine.  "Oh my God, you are so gorgeous," I tell him.  It had to make his day.  He smiles large - his plump lips I couldn't stop staring at knowing I was just kissing them.  We look at one another in the eyes and we just knew we had a spark there.
"It's so weird but so cool at the same time that we had to meet this way, don't know each other, and already have this strong connection," he says eyes wide open.
"Yeah", I agree.  But then reality hit that I have a fiance, and worse, that we are going to be judged by our performance from our bosses.  "We can't . . . well, you can't do it this way.  They want to hear you hurt me."  My face grows long.  He rubs my face in comfort.
"I won't do that to you.  I can't.  I don't care what they say.  We can always pretend until they think otherwise."  This Chris Hemsworth (think the movie Thor) or Alexander Skarsgard (HBOs show True Blood) lookalike was right.  How would they know?
Alexander Skarsgard
Chris Hemsworth
"Well, let's do this thing!  Definitely not going to say no to you," I chuckle and pull off my skirt and underwear with one good tug.
He lifts up my tank to massage one of my breasts while kissing the other one, gently nibbling on my nipple arousing it higher.  He pulls his boxer briefs down and off and rests his body atop of mine again.  Our breathing becomes heavy with excitement ready to enjoy the moment.  I pray it will be enjoyable rather than a job, to which I was use to in this business.  I feel his cock against my pubic bone.  It throbs up and down and feels real nice.  I just want him inside me.  He thrives on the anticipation.  He rocks his hips back and forth, his cock first massaging my pubic bone, then further down against my clit, then between my vagina lips where it rests.
"Oh yes!"  I quiver.  I feel my wetness engulf his penis, and I hear the wetness smack every time he moves against my lady lips.  I cling onto his shoulders guiding myself closer to his manhood.  With impeccable timing, I lift my bottom up for him, and he rocks just enough for his cock to plunge inside of me.  The warmth was pleasant.  He strokes his cock inside of me slowly and gently, he doesn't even go deep . . . yet.  Three strokes in and my toes were already beginning to curl.  He was feeling his hair stand on ends like little tiny prickles.  "Are you kidding me," I ask referring to how good it was already feeling.  He laughs.  We couldn't stop looking into each others eyes.  We were locked on.
As I was getting more into it, I hear muffling noises in the next room.  Laura!  My mind was taken away from the pleasure.  "Yes.  Mmm . . . mmm . . . yes, yes yes!  Oh . . . oh . . . uh huh, yeah . . .," Laura was moaning in the next room.  Him and I smile contently knowing everything is okay with my friend in the next room and continue to make love.  Seconds later though, Laura's sounds of pleasure turns into squealing and blood-curdling screams.  We stop dead in our tracks.  I was worried, but what was I to do about it now, I thought?  Sex doesn't always come easily in this type of industry, at least not in the way I was receiving it tonight.  I was being a little selfish at the moment soaking up what I was getting that it was hard to shift away from it, especially after years of waiting for something like that.
I tried to get back into the sex I was having after the screaming had stopped, but the guy I was with wasn't focused on it.  Still with is penis inside me, he asks, "Aren't you wanting to check on your friend?"
"I want to, but we are technically doing the same thing as her and that other dude are.  What does she expect me to do?  As far as she knows I'm going through the same shit and can't help her.  So, please, let's just enjoy this moment."
He gets off of me, puts on his boxer briefs.  He is not upset, but tells me I ought to console her.  He also says he'll be right there waiting when I get back, but we both know as pawns of the slave world, we are there one minute and not the next, and our words have no guarantees as they are not our own.
I exit the room and go into Laura's.  The lights were on in that room.  The guy who was with her wasn't there.  When the silence came through the walls, that must have been the time that he left.  I didn't see her in the room.  I look out from the sliding glass door and see her in the garden sitting in a low part of a tree, wrapped in a robe facing the other way all curled up.  I walk up to her and she was not budging.  I gave her the time she needed.  Finally, she turns around, relaxes her legs and sips on coffee (apparently it was morning now).  "He fucked me!"  Laura pouts.  "I thought I knew what that meant before now, but I didn't."  She trembles with fear and anger.  "He fucked me five times!  Five times back to back.  He hurt me five times!" 
She bursts into tears and I knew why.  She cries because I let her down.  I let her down by moving in with her with this dark secret.  I let her down by not fighting for her that she wasn't apart of the sex trade.  I let her down by not telling her sooner what I was apart of.  I let her down by not telling her what to expect out of the sexual encounter and how it was a game.  I let her down that I didn't heed to her scream and thought of my pleasure over that.  Even if she didn't know most of this, I did, and felt guilty for it as she cries lonely on that tree.