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I had been made empty. Left wasted. They each had grunted and heaved atop me, pushed hard with one last manful thrust, then spewed their filth within and upon my body. The young man approached under my glare of hatred and condemnation. He slid his helmet from his head revealing a shock of short blond hair matted with sweat. He ruffled a dirty hand through it as he cast about the room. He took up an old headscarf, one that had once belonged to my mother, and knelt before me. He dabbed and wiped at the carnal residue high up on my thighs. I turned my head away. I sensed the delicate touch of the cloth briefly against the ruined place between my legs. He then pulled the tattered remnants of my skirt over my nakedness. But there was no need. Modesty and shame had become only words to me. Achingly small, and weak, and meaningless words. Laughter and guttural jests in the other rooms of my home were punctuated by the crash of breaking furniture and glass. But here it was quiet. My eyes. "Yeah, there were a number of the girls who did it but it was never forced that I knew of. There're some rooms in the back where they can take their clients for a private dance, if you know what I mean. I'm sure Anton got a cut of what they made but that's all that I knew about." Must be something new they're trying to get into," the captain mused. "Doesn't make any sense to me but then a lot of what these types get into doesn't make any sense to me." Yeah, why force them?" Mike asked. "Sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me. Hey boss, maybe I should have turned pro. Been a hell of a lot easier and more fun than what we'd been doing for the last eighteen years."Okay, okay; yes I should have kept my mouth shut but with a straight line like that could you have resisted? I couldn't."It'd ever work, Mike," I said shaking my head."What are you saying, needle-dick?" she asked sweetly looking at me dangerously. Normally when Mike starts the sweet talk and the look it's time for most prudent.
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