The dark fantasies of the labors I performed as a sex trafficked slave always surface here around Labor Day. I was never given a day of rest when I was a sexual possession: Master always reminded me I was just a submissive fuck toy and worth nothing more. I couldn’t tell you the year, but I was very young and fresh. I didn’t get a calendar so I didn’t even know it was Labor Day, but Master was packing me up into the car for a long road trip.
I wasn’t allowed to speak on the ride and was instead instructed to simply pinch my nipples until I got so wet I couldn’t stand it. I was at that point two hours into our five hour trip. The rest of the journey was torture. When we got to where we were going, it was a little bar in the middle of nowhere. That’s where Master said he’d be acting out his dark fantasies using my little body as the instrument of his pleasure.
We went inside, and before I knew it Master had me dressed up like a sexy stripper slut. He sent me around to all the tables, and told me to bring him 10,000 in cash. I knew I’d really have to work and show my hard labor if I wanted that, so I started dancing and sucking cocks, giving slick hand jobs. Half way through, I didn’t even have five grand. I took myself to the men’s bathroom, and decided to earn my fare another way. This was part of Master’s dark fantasies, letting those rape fantasies come out as he watched men molest my poor, tired body on the cameras.
I ended up bent over the sink pretty quickly as what seemed like a never ending flow of men came in, slammed their cocks inside my well used asshole, and fucked me until there was cum flowing from my little orifice. They were moving in rapid speed, making me throw my ass back on them and showering me in coke covered cash for Master. Even after all that, after one hundred cum loads, I was still short. Master drove us to another bar, and made me do it all over again.
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