A Woman in Despair
As the number of viewers on the livestream grew each night, I felt myself dissolving, reduced to a piece of clockwork machinery designed to leak for a paying audience.
Clients rotated in and out of the rooms. What I never expected to see was a familiar figure stepping into my room. It was the village chief, Martin Hansen, who reeked of tobacco. I hadn't imagined him to be part of this, too.
I wasn't the only woman here. Whenever I was alone in my room, I could always hear the voices of other women drifting through the walls. Rodrick and Colby had turned this place into a living hell.
Before every livestream, Rodrick would forcibly apply some pink cream onto my sensitive bud. Whenever I clamp