Lisa' new life

Lisa struggled, but the two men continued dragging her naked, fouled body down the dark street and through an alley. The dirt and horse shit from the street further fouled her body. The men pulled her through a back door and tossed her down into a corner. Lisa lay there sobbing; she was broken.

In a couple of minutes the two men returned with a hard looking woman wearing a cheap saloon dress and bright red hair. "So, you're my new cunt!" The woman kicked Lisa between the legs. "Let's see what we got. Boys, use them buckets to clean her off some."

The two men picked up a pair of wooden buckets. Two buckets of old, cold water rained down on Lisa's body. She lay in a puddle of water and cum, and piss, and shit.

The woman reached down and grabbed Lisa' blond hair. She pulled the Deputy up. "Listen up, bitch!" The woman's breath was foul with whisky. "I'm Red Hanna. I own this place. It the lowest, meanest whorehouse in the territory. We charge the miners, cowboys, drifters, bums, and lowlifes fifty-cents a throw. They can stick they dirty cocks where ever they want for fifteen minutes. My girls get five cents from every cock they service; I get the rest. I take care of you, feed you, and give you a bed. My girls work every day and every night, fifteen hours a day seven days a week."

Lisa' head was spinning. Why was this foul woman telling her this?

"From now on you are mine. I own your ass, your face, your tits, and your cunt. You're still pretty, so the boys are gonna want you bad. Maybe I even charge a dollar at first. But you won't be pretty long." Red Hanna was laughing.

"Boys," Hanna released Lisa, "drag this pussy upstairs and lock her in Number Eight."

In five minutes Lisa was locked in a small, bare, windowless room. The only furniture was a saggy, dirty iron bed. She lay on the floor and wept.