"Hey! He's losing lots of blood!"

"Are you sure it's a good idea to just leave him?"

"Of course not, but we can't get back while those guards are around."

"But we can at least-"

"It'll be fine, we'll just keep him covered. Help me move those crates!"

...

I feel like I'm slipping in and out of consciousness...

Where am I? Why can't I open my eyes?

"Hey. don't worry, you will be okay..."

"Who-?"

"Shhh... Just rest, we'll be back soon..."

I can feel him lift my head and wrap something tight around it, before placing something soft between me and the wall behind me.

"That'll have to do for first aid. Okay, let's move out!"

""Right!""

Wait, where are you going? Where...

//

I slide down to the floor, feeling the hard planks dig into my knees.

I hear him softly plucking the buttons. His fabrics shifts.

"Whiff it." He said

I lean in to obey. It smells sweaty, musky... very male.

"No need to build up tension, darlin'. Suck it." A lustful whisper from him

My arms are spread on the bed, holding me stable as I dip down. His tip is already wet... he needs this...

I hear him suck in air harshly as my lips part. He's hot and warm in my mouth. My licks are loud and sloppy. He tends to like that. Before long, ropes splash my nose, gliding down my face.

"Nothing prettier than white on black." He drags his dick across my face, smearing the cum into my face. "You're good at this."

"It's not so difficult." I wipe a little off my face that's getting precariously close to my eye.

"Rude to reject a compliment. You get that a lot, don't ya?" The coyote starts getting dressed.

"Yeah yeah..." Now I just want him to get out.

"Such talent shouldn't be wasted." Having dressed, he heads to the door. "Bet lots of clients love you." He gives a playful smirk then walks away.

It's not about having someone to love me anymore. This is the experience of being an American whore.

The first thing I do is make my way to the washbow and start scrubbing. The water is cloudy soon enough with what that coyote left behind, but the citrus oil masks enough of his smell. I grunt when my length pressed against the dresser. Most clients finish before I do. The clear stain on my trousers has to be taken care of soon though. At least this is the last customer for this morning...

I toss my dirty cloth on the floor before grabbing a glass of water, promptly chugging it. The summer heat here is such a pain.

As I strip off my overshirt, I look toward the bathroom. Kinda want to take a shower right now, but decide to do it at my usual time right before bed. I sleep better that way.

I say that, but I'm gearing up for my afternoon nap, without any distractions.

I plug in my phone, there're a few messages from Lanata, I will check them later. Briefly lighting up the pic of Damion holding me up from behind, as I frail in his grasp. I smile at it before flopping face first into my squishy pillow, not even bothering to pull over the blankets. It's still a bit too hot for that. My eyelids start to get heavy, and I fall asleep for my afternoon nap.

//

There's a strange ringing in my head. It's quiet, but just loud enough that I can't ignore it. I'm having trouble opening my eyes. How long was I out?

It almost feels like a headache, but it's concentrated only in the back. Lifting my arm is a struggle too. Wait, am I... sitting? A groan escapes my dry throat. How long have I been sitting like this?

With all of my might, I lift my hands up to my face, and try to rub my eyes open with my palms. Wait. What is all of this I'm feeling? I pull it, and it tug at my scalp.

It's my hair.

I'm not lucid enough to panic quite yet, or maybe I am and this is just a weird dream. In that case, after some more rubbing, I manage to crack my eyes open.

I'm sitting in an alleyway I've never seen before.

Even moving my eyes to look around is a struggle at first. I just woke up but already feel exhausted. I take a few breaths, which is somewhat alarming. I thought you couldn't breathe in dreams.

Regardless, little by little, I start moving what I can. I can wiggle my toes, and move my arms. I kind of need to move them, as my hair is getting in the way of my vision. I can hold my bangs down to nearly my sternum. The length isn't what's most concerning though, it's the fact that my hair is almost an unnatural shade of white.

That aside, I feel around. I'm against a wall, and my next goal is to try to stand up. My joints pop like mad. Seriously, how long have I been sitting here like this? It should not be this hard to stand up, but my knees are trembling.

Nearly hugging the wall with my side, I manage to stand up, albeit quite hunched over. Something slides off me, but before I can look down to see what it is, I start to stumble. I jerk a bit as a wave of disorientation washes over me. My vision blurs, I can see stars. I feel dizzy, and I can't keep my breathing steady. It doesn't hurt though, nothing does.

Not even the sudden upchuck of stomach acid I expel onto the ground below me. I clutch my stomach as I fall to my knees, breathing erratic.

It doesn't hurt, it doesn't hurt, but I feel like it should. I'm more confused than scared.

I don't have enough time to process what little information I have as I throw up whatever was left in my stomach. It just smells like acid. And just like that, I'm back to sitting against the wall. I shut my I but I can still see colors swirling around the inside of my eyelids.

Without any strength, I just sit there and pant. The taste of my stomach fluids still comes up from my throat with each breath, burning my mouth. I heave again, but nothing comes out this time, nothing but a guttural belch.

"Okay, okay, calm down, calm down..." I say to myself, barely recognizing my own voice. Not surprising, it feels like the only thing to wet my throat in decades was my own bile. I clutch my head to try and control the spinning I'm feeling.

After several minutes of trying to breathe calmly, my vision starts to settle. I still feel disoriented, but I can at least make out what's in front of me now. Again, I look around, trying to get my bearings. As I noted earlier, I'm in some alleyway. I don't know where though.

Tilting my head up, I can see that it's night. The buildings around me seem to stretch taller than they should. I look further in front of me. There are boxes blocking the alley, they're stacked pretty high.

I look down to the ground, and something catches my eyes. Slowly, I bend over to reach over it, not wanting to upset my stomach anymore, and grab what seems to be a jacket. It's pretty big, I can stretch it out far past something that'd fit me. I wonder who left this here, were they trying to cover me?

Another headache hits the back of my head, and I clutch the side of my face. Ugh, starting to feel nauseous again. I rest my head against the wall, and immediately feel uncomfortable. It didn't hurt, but I could tell I shouldn't have done that. I reach for the back of my head. I feel bandages, and a lot of them. Along with what I can only assume is crusted up blood.

How the hell did I end up like this?

The last thing I remember was... was... a whore... and taking a nap. I try to recollect more, as much as I can. It's all scattered, like haze is blocking me from my own memories.

"... Oh, fuck..." I exhale with a haggard breath. I'm still hoping this is just a weird dream, because I can't even remember my own name. I then spend the next half an hour alternating between doing breathing exercises and having an existential crisis. The more I think about myself, the more I realize I don't know who I am.

I'm thinking clearly, but there's not much to think about.

All I know is Lanata and Damion seem to be very close to me, and I wish they were here right now. I feel a sort of sadness at all og the things I can't remember.

All of my relationships and experiences just vanished.

One thing's for sure, this is no dream. Maybe it's a nightmare?

If it was, it'd be the most boring nightmare I've ever had.

I say that, but I'm still fairly spooked.

I move past the notion that I'm dreaming, however. The sensations I've felt since waking up are too real. Even so, periodically I pinch the skin of my forearm.

I can definitely feel I'm pinching the skin, but I don't feel any pain.

It's basically numb.

Same with the back of my head. That blow I must have taken did a serious number on me. It doesn't take a doctor to figure out that's probably why I can't remember anything.

I also think back to that earlier memory. I've come to accept the fact it was real. Despite the fact that my eyes were closed, it all felt so visceral to the point that I can say it happened. Someone mentioned my loss of blood, and someone else covered me up.

Someone left me here, but who?

All I have to go on is this jacket they left behind for me. It's simple enough, but I don't recognize the style. Not that I can talk about fashion.

It's better than what I have on. I can't tell if I'm wearing hospital scrubs or a prison uniform. Wish I at least had some socks. The more I wake up, the more I realize how cold I am. I sigh.

Eventually, I look toward the other side of the alleyway. I don't think I could move those boxes easily, if at all. But I should at least try to look for help.

I'm starting to get annoyed with my body, as I still struggle to do the simplest of tasks. I can hear my panting echo softly through the alley, along with something else.

The sound of footsteps.