His hiss rang throughout the room and his body squirmed against the restraints.
After so many times there is no pain. No pleasure. No feeling. No emotion. No nothing. After so many situations such as this one, all feeling was gone. He had grown numb. To everything. He felt no pleasure, no pain. Even after being trained into this he felt none. His body didn't register the pleasure or the pain anymore. His limbs didn't recognize it anymore. It was as if his body had forgotten feeling.
He remembered when he first started in this business. His body was sensitive to this. To the small plucks at his skin. The rough slaps and punches he would take. The kisses not meant for him. The feelings he didn't want. He could remember it all. He could remember that pain, that feeling, that all to seldom pleasure, but now it was all gone. In a way it pleased him, not to be able to feel these horrid creatures feeling him up. Then again it freaked him out. He could no longer tell when they were taking it to far. When the man/women needed to stop. When his small body was on the verge of passing out.
It was his seventh year in this kind of business. It wasn't really sex slaves. More along the lines of a whore house. Older men, and sometimes - rarely though - women would stumble in requesting a good time. A consort would be chosen and then the rest of the night went how the customer wanted it. It was basically a way for the rich to fuck without strings attached. They came in screwed and left. Most of them were never never seen again. Though some were regulars. Such as this man that laid over top of the young male that was tied to the bed post. He was a regular. A drunken one at that. A raged man, had a wife and kids...but here he was screwing a teenager.
His small form withered under this man and he stopped resisting. Every time the man returned he was worse than before and he would damage the teen a little more each time. Though the teen never felt it. Each time his body had grown numb until now. He felt noting. Sometimes even a simple tap was hard to feel, let lone pleasure or pain.
He actually found it quiet funny when he really thought about it. A boy his age in a whore house, sold off by his parents, and everything was numb. He had no emotion towards his parents. It was nurtural. Who's to say he wouldn't had turned out like this anyways? During the times he could feel he loved the painful pleasurable sensations that waved through his body, attacking him. Who's to say he wouldn't had been a whore anyway? What if his parents really needed the money, and selling him was the only way?
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"You! Come here!" There were no names here. It was 'you,' 'slut,' 'whore,' 'bitch.' Whatever name they could come up with at the moment to get the male/female whores attention. "Boy! Get over here now!"
The black haired male stood wobbly on his legs. 'Again...I just got finished with that asshole... another one already...fuck I won't be able to walk tomorrow..' Which wasn't unusual at least three times out of the week he was enable to walk for a few hours. Thankfully business didn't start until eight pm. At least most of the time. Unless it was some big name asshole that wanted a bitch right then; then there were exceptions.
Wobbling over he caught site of a new man. He wore a thick black coat, most likely to cover his identity. Many men that came here wore a thick coat covering their face, so it was always fascinating whom one would be stuck with for the night. It was clear the man was new to this he stood nearly stiff as his eyes darted around catching all of the scenes blossomed around him. Most consisted of heavy make-outs, possible fucking, and a few other situations that will be saved for later explanation.
"Yes, Master Gyeong.." He muttered bowing to the women that stood in front of him. Gyeong was a bitch. Total bitch material. Harvested, picked and manufactured. Pure. "Treat this man well, I swear one disappointment from this man and it's to the basement for you.." The basement wasn't what most people would think it was, no... He wouldn't be sent there to sleep for a few days... No he would be scent there to be punished. He'd been there done, done that and God knows he didn't want to return. It was no place for someone of his age.. "You do not ask for his name, you call him what he wishes to be called, if you know who he his keep your mouth shut about it. He was not here today. If it gets out that he was..I promise you, kid you will wish you were dead." Oh it was only the normal with these rich pricks. Every time, the same ol' same ol', 'I'll beat you till you can't walk for a year,' lecture. He was used to it by know, he truly didn't understand why she always said it. He was her best employee. Never had one bad review, besides his first day here. He knew how to treat his client. And he knew it well. He was skilled in this kind of work, he had to be to survive.
