1 WHY? -Noah-

The feel of leather upon my bare skin is very familiar to me, almost as familiar as I am with my name. Ofcourse, it is not made to give me any kind of physical pain, but unsurprisingly, it gives me much more pain than anything else. It makes me devoid of every decent memory I have of myself.

"Number 73? Yes, you have a customer today. There is a little to no specification. They said you should have ropes with you. I presume that should be alright. It is a man as far as I know. The session is from 7 pm."

"Here goes nothing! Atleast I hope the customer is pleased enough to give a good sum of money!"

The one who spoke now is number 73, or Jacob, as I know of him. At a place like this, where your body is your identity, your product, why would anyone bother to call you by your name? Heck no, no one even cares to know of your name.

Jacob came here as a refugee. He escaped from his country thinking things will get better here. But where does that bring him? At a brothel? Yes. A lot of others have similar stories.

All of us, willing, unwilling, sick and healthy, stand in a line everyday, waiting for orders to please our customers, praying that whoever comes, is rich enough to give a good sum of money so that our debt gets fulfilled and we get to leave this place as soon as we can.

"Number 75? Are you there?"

"Noah, they're calling you!"

"Yes? Any special orders for tonight miss?" I said to the speaker, as I would, everyday. I winced a little because of what happened last night....

" Not that I can see, but you could not wear clothes, which is obvious. The customer is a female and, by the looks of it, a newcomer. Take good care of her, will you?"

I sunk my head down and went to my lockers to keep my belongings in there. Everyone knows what she meant by that. Helena needs promising customers, so she needs well maintained products, namely, our bodies. It was not new to roam around naked, but it did not ease out the sensation I felt whenever I did so. I just feel more and more ashamed as days pass by. I pushed through the corridor, it's rosy scent numbing my brain. This place was made as beautifully as possible. Tinted rose building with top notch technology. And privacy? guaranteed. There are no cameras inside the rooms. There are restaurants at every corner of this building. Air conditioned rooms for a peaceful night. If I were an outsider, I would definitely feel like I had come to heaven, some kind of paradise. But knowing that every brick of this so called paradise is cemented with the screams, blood, sweat and tears of countless exploited victims, does not make it sound as pleasant as it should.

I opened the door to take a single glance at the room, to see if any arrangements had to be made, and then imprisoned myselves inside. The bed was clean and comfy. Well cushioned as well. If I did not know where I was, I was tired enough to take a nap. But then, this was the same bed where I had to hold my mouth shut and not scream for the pleasure of someone else.

There had been a variety of customers. One who wanted me to act as if I were married to her, and one that I definitely cannot forget, for she wanted to tie me up and torture me after a bad breakup. The memory was fresh in my mind, for it happened last night after all. Despite of everything, I am eager to see what this night brings for me. I cannot make any guesses because there are no requirements that the customer has put forth. Thus maintaining the suspense well. Not that this bothers me, I am tired and I badly want to be done with this night, just like any other work day.