Bathing

Aimee. That mousy young lass. A favourite among guests due to her golden locks and crystal blue eyes. Fucked hard on a daily basis. Used.

It was morning. Aimee washed her body at the well in the back garden. It was walled off by stone. She washed with all the other women. Dainty sexy forms. Large breasts and round asses. Pinched waists.

Without the jewels or silken scarfs. Stripped back.

Aimee was quiet. She did her job. Slept. Ate meagerly. And did it again. It had been six months like this.

Everyday thinking about how her husband sold her here. Deceived her. But she found solace here. She had found friends. They braided her hair. Taught her how to look beautiful.

“You… Go to the markets and get me fresh grapes…” Francesca pointed at Aimee.

Aimee shivered and then bowed. Putting on her slippers and cloak and headed out. The world of men awaited.