way. I know what the man who owns me will do to me if I don't stay and it isn't pleasant. The customer is tall, big and powerful looking. He wears a silver mask they covers his features. It must be off world, because there are no eye holes or mouth hole, but I can hear him breathing. It's fast and tense and wild. There's do doubt that he's going to fuck me in that breath. It's that clear. “Your first time?” he asks. The voice is modified to not sound like whoever the owner of the mask is. I guess that this is going to be a big part of my life in the future. A lot of customers are going to want to keep their identity hidden. I say nothing. Why would I? This all ends with me being fucked. I'm a whore now and conversation isn't what I'm here for. He bends down to where I am sitting against the wall and reaches out a hand. It's calloused and has cuts on the fingers that cross cross them in long odd swirling patterns. The roughness of his skin on mine is surprising. I glance up. He's no lord or rich man. If anything this man has used farm tools in the past. That makes him quite the oddity. Someone who shouldn't be in this situation but is. That hand stays on my jaw. It is tender yet purposeful. I get the feeling from his bearing – so straight and relaxed regardless of the situation – that he's used to being in control, to having his orders followed. I glance downwards as he waits for my answer. “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I've purchased you for the hour and no more. After that your owner will come and take you wherever he plans to.” There's silence. In the end I break it. “Why me? “ I blurt out. He tilts his head to the side and I swear he's smiling, even though I can't tell. “Because you are the most beautiful woman that I've ever seen.” I stare. No man has ever thought that highly of me and with such sincerity in his voice. If he was conning me, I'm sure I'd know. This man told me the truth just now and told it with the certainty that I would understand that he was sincere. Quite the oddity indeed. My lips part as he leans in. Of course I can't kiss him, but part of me wants to. Rare is it to meet a man of such honesty in this day in and age. Everyone's a liar in this world. His hand slides down my body and under the plain gray top I was given when I was thrown into the cells. Those calloused fingers take my right breast and gently work it. He is staring into my eyes and me into his. I can see myself in the reflection of the silver mask and the creases that are forming around them as a warm pleasure slowly wafts its way up through my belly. I'm scared, of course, but this isn't my first time having sex either. He draws those fingers to my right nipple and swirls it in slow long semicircles. I moan. He is clearly skilled with women. Just looking at him tells me that I'm going have a good time here. It might be the last little piece of heaven I get before things go to hell. “You arouse easily,” he notes. His fingers go much, much lower. They travel down the soft, smooth expanse of my stomach to the lightly haired region of my womanhood. “Is this wet for me?” the man mutters. He clearly wants me to know that he is pleased by this. I can't say that I'm not either. The garments that I have been wearing since leaving the slave pens are discarded. He looms over me in my nudity. I am smaller than him by quite a lot. His shoulders are double mine and his arms bigger than my thighs. Stepping into me, he takes me in his arms. They flow around me and are comforting. I feel like I know him from this, but I can't say where. My mind trails through the various lovers that I have had. None where his size. None had that tightness of breath, that wanting desire. And NONE – not a single one – had a dick this big. Without even needing to be requested to do so, I slip to my knees and work on the trousers that he wears. They come undone and his fullness is revealed to my