Your Heart

Francesca walked around upstairs. A cacophony of moans, grunts, and slapping. Dozens of women being fucked hard by dirty men.

Something about it turned a screw in her mind. She couldn’t help but be curious. What would it be like to screw ten guys a day? She wasn't shy to say she was sexual herself.

She slept with Mafia sons, servants, and on occasion her father's friends. She was deeply enamoured by older men. Rough. Big cocked older men.

She wondered whether these street rat customers were packing. It didn’t matter because she was simply too good for them. She was pristine porcelain and they were muddy clay.

“Kirah!” Francesca shouted. A brief silence in moans.

Kirah appeared quickly.

“Yes boss…” she said.

“How much gold are we making?” Francesca said.

“2 pieces per customer. 10 customers per girl per day. 34 girls. 680 gold coins per day,” Kirah said.

She knew her numbers! What kind of a whore knew numbers?

“I want 1000 coins everyday,” Francesca said.

“It’s not possible…” Kirah said.

“Make it possible… Or else I’ll have your heart…” Francesca said.

Kirah blushed,” M-my heart?”

Francesca blushed. She didn’t mean it like that.

“I meant your head… Just do it…” She walked away annoyed.