“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.

do you know about courtesans, Ciara? Were

about them. Courtesan is an old word

still holding me. My chance for a bath

about them,” he

home. Strategically, I left out the part that the courtesans I knew about

humans that were the sexual partners of other humans. They did it as a job for money,

asked. “Where is the power in this

couldn’t say for sure; most of what I was saying was based on my best guesses. I’d never expected

to their patrons, the people that paid them. Those patrons

face carefully as he

women do sometimes talk with their

the women, but I have never heard what they

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