Yeh sunkar to meri tabiyat se phati.ab mujhe yeh mamla har hal me yahin sultana tha varna mere parents ko agar yeh pata chal gaya ki maine ladki par h...ath bhi uthaya hai to meri khair nahi.maine request ki;plz preetu mujhe maf kar de meri bahan,darwaja khol de mai teri first-aid kar dunga plz open the door.usne darwaja open kiya to uski halat dekh kar mai bhi dang rah gaya.uski pink color ki salwar par jagah-jagah blood laga tha aur suit par bhi navel se niche kai jagah blood laga tha.vo ab bhi. Charging $5 each, I thought salaciously.Without being told, I had the impression that Joe had very little money. His demand that I pay for the motel room and his willingness to whore me out were clues. His lack of funds would be no impediment to our (hopefully) master/slave relationship.I had a good income from the small business I had started and still owned a nice chunk of. I also had no objection at all to being used as a whore. Just the opposite, the thought of being sold to strangers and. So? Society didn't have to know. Besides, how much of that social baggage was to make sure that when a girl got pregnant, as she would, she knew who the father was, but more important than that, the man knew it was his child.Sex was supposed to be almost holy, sacred, or something. It was all shrouded in myth (romance novels) and if there was pleasure, it sort of happened, and, I swear, people thought the woman shouldn't experience too much of it. We did, and men knew it, which might explain. Her head bowed in utter humiliation, standing butt naked now in front of the door. She dared not turned to check if her actions had drawn the attention of that horny couple but their whistling and their sniggers already answered her doubts. She could only pray for the door to open and spared her from further embarrassment. Her chin quivered as tears well up.The door finally opened after one long minute and Peggy stepped in hurriedly to escape from the insulting cheers from the couple. She gave.