The Whore Read Free

nipple with her fingers, Bryn’s pussy dampened, started to throb.
    Leaning down, she placed a soft kiss on Ayla’s lips. “I’ll be back,” she whispered. “I promise.”
    Ayla leaned back onto the bed and lifted the fabric of her sleeping dress, pulling it to her waist. She opened her legs to reveal her smooth, glistening pussy. Reaching down, she dipped her index finger into the pink folds. “I’ll be waiting.”
    It was difficult to pull herself away, but she did. Had to. Sex wasn’t exactly difficult to come by—she lived in a brothel. Sex would be there when she returned. The desire to escape the walls of her fortress had been escalating with each passing second, leaving her with little choice but to fulfill that particular desire. Her escapes were the only thing that kept her from going mad.
    She used the tunnels to reach the surface. Behind the walls of the brothel was a labyrinth of small passages. Hollow, narrow corridors that led to hundreds of exits. It was time for the servants’ evening meal, so Bryn expected barely any encounters as she made her way to the street.
    Still, her heart raced. Although she tried to appear calm around Ayla, Bryn was well aware of how dangerous her actions were. If the Madam caught her sneaking outside the walls, she would be punished. Of course, a Rose couldn’t have any visible marks of punishment. However, they had other methods. There were rooms located underground where Roses were punished for misdeeds. Like the sensory deprivation room. A woman was stripped nude, her wrists and ankles bound, and she was locked in a room of total darkness for forty-eight hours. All a person could hear in that room was the sound of her own breathing. Each time Bryn had seen a girl come out of such a punishment she’d had such an expression of insanity on her face—it made Bryn’s blood run cold to think of it.
    The punishment for leaving the brothel walls would be much worse than two days in the deprivation chamber. A year of penalty. Naked and chained. Spread-eagle on a table in the entry of the brothel. Each day, from sunrise to sunset. The small amount of freedom she knew would be taken away from her. She’d be nothing more than a receptacle. Anyone could touch her. Any servant could climb onto the table, kneel between her legs and fuck her. A group of men could surround her, stroke their cocks and shoot their come on to her naked flesh, where it would stay until she was released at night. Once the word spread that a Rose had fallen, there would be a line of men waiting their turn for a free fuck. She would have men sticking their cocks in her mouth and pussy and ass all day long—often simultaneously. No man would be turned away.
    They said it was to ensure a Rose understood the dangers of being a woman alone in the Wasteland. Bryn thought it was a cruel joke. There was nothing in the barren lands that could be worse than what she found each day inside her prison walls.

Chapter Two
    So, yeah. She had a lot to lose. Yet, here she was. Peeking through a tunnel door, her hands shook as she watched a group of men walking down the hallway in her direction, their voices and the sounds of their boot steps echoing through the corridor. When they had passed she quietly emerged, staying close enough so she seemed to be a part of their group as they strolled past the guards and into the street.
    No one gave them a second look. It truly amazed her how much freedom a cock gave a person.
    Dodging through the crowd, she went for a few blocks before dipping into an alley. She leaned her back against the side of a building. Her heart raced, beating so hard in her chest she could nearly feel it hammering against her breastbone. Taking deep breaths, she counted to twenty, then thirty. But she had to go up to fifty before her pulse began to slow. And then, her body lost some of its anxiety.
    The energy of the city started to bleed into her, making her feel as if she’d taken a drag of a hemp