Body For Sale Novels & Stories

Raelynn cautioned, but I was exhausted by the conversation, dropping my tray at the counter, my appetite gone. "Fine, so she's powerful. I don't care. She's out there deceiving millions of girls, promoting the idea that it's good to dress up like a lunatic and disrespect your body, posting pictures of her perfect body, spreading lies that no one will love you if they don't purchase her wardrobe. Worse, have you checked the medical reports? Every year, more than two million people suffer from an eating disorder because they want to get the perfect body. She's a liar and an international slut," I ranted, refusing to order anymore. I was done with this conversation. Continuing it might just kil

Less than a minute later, his reply came through: “Good girls. I’m pleased. Half the money is being transferred right now. Tomorrow, wear short dresses or skirts — something easy to pull up or take off quickly. No bras, no panties. I want easy access the moment you walk through my door. Shave everything smooth. I expect my three little roommates to be wet, obedient, and ready to be used like the dirty girls you are.” Another notification popped up — $37,500 had just hit our shared group account. Zoe’s eyes widened. “Holy shit… it’s real.” Lila stared at the screen, breathing faster. “We just sold our bodies to our sugar daddy.” I leaned back against the couch, feeling a rush of heat flood be

One of those bodies was mine. “That’s right, Zoey,” one client in particular bellowed from his place in the crowd. “Work that body for me like a little slut.” He was a short man, his belly rounded with excessive alcohol and zero workout, and he was mostly bald, save for the sparse curls around his mouth. To put it simply, he wasn’t a pleasant man to look at, and from the look in his eyes, the knowledge of that wouldn’t stop him from paying his way between our legs.

Why was I even trying? “Christ,” I say under my breath. Shelby turns, dislodging the woman’s arm from her shoulder. “No, Ta Ta. I belong here as much as you do.” She pats the woman on the shoulder. “Selling one’s body should not be a crime. It’s entirely victimless and it’s the oldest profession on record. If it wasn’t for you, good married Christian men would never get laid. “It’s your body to give to whoever you choose.” Her brown eyes meet mine again. The unbelievably run slowly up them down. It’s obvious I don’t meet her exacting clientele standards. Finally, something we might agree on.

Every detail was clear and fresh in her memory—a living nightmare that had taken over her life. ​"For a starting price, Ten Million Pesos!" she heard the auctioneer's shout echo across the entire room. ​She looked around again. Everyone there was visibly wealthy, and all of them were men. Men hungry for physical gratification and the calls of the flesh—men who looked professional but whose eyes were filled with lust. ​Fara swallowed, her heart pounding fast. She desperately wanted to break free or run far away from that place, but her hands were cuffed behind her back, locked to the center of the stage.

They say my image is too bad, and brands may not wish to take the risk with me. I sighed as I saw that I only had two clothes to fit the occasion. I have sold all of my things to help me survive after the bank evicted me from my family’s mansion, but I could not afford to sell these two. They remind me of the two most important moments in my life: the happiest one and the saddest. I ran my fingers over the silk of my white dress. It was the dress I wore during my civil wedding ceremony. I was so happy then.

At the same instant she identified the men, the group of Lawless turned their heads, and their gaze fell on her figure. "Oh? What do we have here?" "It looks like another bitch for us to sell." "Hehe...she looks healthy. Her organs will sell for more." "Forget about the organs. This slut is hot! I want a taste before the trade."

Even participating to the level of observing the practice makes me feel physically ill. I try not to look at their faces as they are dragged upon the platform and sold to the crowd. Their bodies put on display and graphically described to suggest how they could best be utilized. Tools for their master’s unfettered use. I could not look upon them. “This one is young and malleable.” The auctioneer declares. “A real beauty from the shores of the Celestial Waters, her flower will bloom within the year making her eligible for marriage.”

As if my body has forgotten what to do with its own size. My knees spread wide, forearms braced on my thighs, phone hanging loose in one hand, and there I am in the glass: massive, inked, sweating, breathing too hard for a man sitting still. A body built for impact. A body that makes other men brace before I even reach them. A body women look at like it promises something primitive and uncomplicated. A body that I have spent years turning into proof that I am not easily owned by anything. And all of it means nothing.

“I need some clothes from you. Even if it's just your shirt.” “Ahh...clothes.” He nodded his head. “What makes you think I'd ever give you clothes, Rosy? You see, I'm really looking forward to seeing you parade around in just skin.” I barely registered what he said because he stood and was moving closer to me, and my eyes were taking in his toned chest and well-built form. Santos really has a very nice body. “I'll never walk around in just skin,” I managed to say to him, gripping the towel tightly as he got closer.