“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.

about courtesans, Ciara? Were you one?”

other humans talk about them. Courtesan is an old word in

the bed still holding me. My chance for a bath diminished and I looked longingly at the

about them,”

out the part that the courtesans I knew about were all women. I just allowed the word “human” to suffice to explain them and

other humans. They did it as a job for money, but often

is the power in this arrangement we have

never expected to need to use this knowledge to keep them alive. There was

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

face carefully as he considered this

sometimes talk with their men,” Kein said

have

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