And I cannot take off my clothes.I wasn't always a prostitute - and I didn't choose this line ofwork because I wanted to. I chose it because it's all ...he chanceI have to make money. If not for prostitution, I couldn't affordto live. As for the rest of it, I'll get to that later.First of all, my name wasn't always Diane. It used to be Jack.That's right, Jack. As in male. The women who are responsible formaking me this way renamed me. Again, more on that later.I was an attorney. A good one. Not. My mind wandered again, looking down at my body half under the couch. I could see the bruises on my shoulders and the cum making a puddle on the carpet as it leaked out of my butt. I did not know what to do, I was so sore, I just wanted to rest. My eyes fluttered and then everything went dark.Beatrice turned around and looked at the screen. The poor girl was now laying across her father. She was a mess; her hair was wet and caked with cum. Her body was covered in cum. She lifted her head. More

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