1. Trafficked Love Ch. 19


    Date: 7/18/2015, Categories: Fiction, Body modification, Discipline, Hardcore, Job/Place-of-work, Male Domination, Non-Erotic, Prostitution, Reluctance, Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome, Violence, Written by women, Author: ObedientAngel, Rating: 78.6, Source: sexstories.com

    awake enough to process the events of the morning. Rich turned the stove off, and walked around the table to set a fork next to the plate of food. “Eat up,” Rich encouraged with more enthusiasm than Angel thought necessary at such an early hour. Angel picked up the fork and stabbed at the eggs a moment before taking a bite. She chewed quietly, willing her body to wake up. “You seem pretty tired,” Rich noted, pulling a chair over next to Angel, and promptly sitting down. She glanced at him before taking a swig of coffee. “Better wake up, you’re in for quite the day.” Another glance. “You remember what today is, right?” She took another bite of eggs, chewing instead of answering him. “It’s July twenty-fifth,” he answered for her. She made no acknowledgment toward his questioning and answering. She knew perfectly well what day it was, and why Rich was acting like it was a day out of the ordinary. Despite the pimp-and-hoe relationship between the two of them, to Rich, this day was special, different, and certainly out of the ordinary. “Did you forget?” How could she forget? July twenty-fifth was the day Frank gifted her to Rich, to help Rich start up his own pimping business. July twenty-fifth was the day she was released from a physical cage, only to be placed in a metaphorical one. July twenty-fifth was the day her life changed; for the better or for the worse was still yet to be determined. But it changed nonetheless. She nodded, figuring it best to act naïve about it. He ...
    clicked his tongue, making a tsk noise. “That’s a shame. I think we should do something special for your birthday.” Angel chewed silently. Birthday. That’s what he called it. Angel was never sure when her actual birthday was. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember a time when she wasn’t with Frank or Rich. This life was literally all she’d ever known. She had no memories of life before. She had no memories of a family, of school, of childhood. There was Frank, and there was Rich. Nothing else. So Rich chose the day he received her from his teacher, to be the day they would celebrate her birthday. Rich always gave the girls the day off on their birthday. He would treat them to a day at the spa, a nice dinner, and usually a new outfit and some jewelry. It was his way of showing gratitude for their service under him. Angel dreaded her symbolic birthday. She found no pleasure in going to a spa, getting her nails and hair done, receiving gifts, the whole nine yards. It wasn’t fun. It was cheap. It was a cheap thank you for another year of hell. It was a pathetic attempt at buying happiness that she herself couldn’t even comprehend. Angel found no happiness in being the center of attention. She preferred to blend in and go unnoticed, and on her ‘birthday’ she could do anything but. “Well, it’s your special day, what would you like to do?” Angel shrugged, honestly wanting nothing more than to go back to bed and wake up again tomorrow; skip the day in its entirety. “How about we hit ...
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