Amelia continued to get her breath back, now each breath turned into a harsh wheeze of panic.
A thousand marks in a week?
That was ridiculous. There was no way she could do it. She thought maybe it would have been something manageable.
She got to her feet, walking towards the bar with the vision in the eye that wasn’t stuck shut. The skin on her face, tits, back and waist felt so sticky and disgusting now that the pleasure had worn off. She managed to find the rag she used for wiping down the bar, and poured some water into it from the jug, wiping the cum from her front and the beer from her back with it.
She still felt sticky and disgusting due to the rag being soaked in stale ale, but it was a bit of an improvement. There was some stuck in her hair, it had matted strands around her scalp.
A thousand marks in a week? She shook her head, fighting back the urge to burst into tears. She was going to be dragged to Octoton to be sold to the highest bidder.
She looked around her bar, thinking about the good times she’d had in the short time she’d owned this place. On a good day, she’d be lucky if she could make a hundred marks in a day. She’d still be well short even with a really good week.
She looked out of the window. It was late. There was nothing she could do tonight, except maybe run away.
