“No, Damien, I am a slave. You do not pay me and I cannot ask for days to go other places. We are different,” I assured him.

ALL the men were silent and they didn’t move to clean me. I felt sticky and was slowly leaking their cum; I wanted to bathe. Still, they just lay there around me.

“Humans are different,” Bane suddenly said. “That is why it is a happy slave.”

The men murmured agreement and I had to suppress the urge to roll my eyes. I wanted to explain to them I wasn’t happy being a slave; I’d just made up my mind to make the most of my life. Being miserable would just make me feel worse and I would still be a slave.

A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y

Finally, Christof rose from the bed and picked me up.

you know about courtesans, Ciara? Were

Christof,” I chuckled. “I heard other humans talk about them. Courtesan is an old word in

me. My chance for a bath diminished and I looked

us about them,”

everything I knew. Thankfully, I’d seen a show on the History channel at home. Strategically, I left out the part that the courtesans I knew about were all women. I just allowed the word “human” to suffice to explain them and let

They did

“Where is the power in this arrangement we have with the

guesses. I’d never expected to need to use this knowledge

throat, “human courtesans often talked to their patrons, the people that paid them. Those patrons were relaxed around the courtesans. It meant the courtesans could suggest things that other

Christof’s face carefully as he considered this

talk with their

have never heard what they say,” Damien said watching

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