Walking through the city, I noticed something that gave me a bit of faith in this distorted world:
Not all women seemed like nymphomaniac whores. In fact, many looked quite normal.
Dressed decently. Walking fast. No provocative smiles or ridiculous skirts.
A little while ago, I saw the guy in the medieval suit —one of those who arrived with me— trying to take a schoolgirl into an alley.
The girl screamed. She hit him. And she caught the attention of the police.
They beat him up.
Not all were easy. And that... was nice to see. After so many horny, submissive women, wet with just a touch, I started to think they were all like that.
But no. Thankfully, no.
---
It was getting dark. Another wasted day. I was about to give up for today, when I heard sobs.
Screams.
From a nearby alley.
I approached, curious. And what I saw... wasn't pleasant. Two tattooed guys —the same ones from before— were pulling up their pants, laughing.
On the ground, a woman, lying there, tears running down her face, clothes torn. Bruises on her arms. Semen on her legs and a look... completely empty.
I stayed silent.
I'm not a fan of violent rape. I prefer blackmail. Aphrodisiacs. Traps.
This was too real. Too dirty.
It didn't excite me.
It didn't provoke anything. Only discomfort.
After a few seconds, I left. I didn't want problems and less... with those types.
---
Still a bit uncomfortable from what I had just seen, I decided to leave.
I didn't like what they did.
Tears are fine.
Hits, if they're part of a game, too.
But this...
this was close to gore. To snuff.
It wasn't exciting.
It was disturbing.
I needed to clean my view.
And seeing Pigtails ride always helped.
---
I didn't take long to get there.
There was Green Pajamas.
He no longer wore pajamas.
It seemed that Pigtails had adopted him.
He wore decent clothes. He was counting bills.
Meanwhile, Pigtails was being fucked by an office worker.
It seemed that Green Pajamas had joined the family business.
I thought about it as I watched her move with rhythm.
When the guy finished, he tried to keep going,
but Green Pajamas stopped him.
He pushed him.
The drunk office worker wanted to fight.
But Pigtails, calmly, explained that the time was up.
The guy didn't understand reasons.
And Green Pajamas knocked him out with a punch.
He seemed to have experience.
---
I approached.
Pigtails greeted me with a smile:
"—So now you want to fuck?"
I sighed inside.
Maybe this wasn't the best time to pass by here.
Green Pajamas came back, shaking his hands.
He had thrown the guy into another alley.
He was playing with his wallet.
Pigtails started talking as if we were old friends.
She said the business was going better with Green Pajamas.
She no longer needed hotels.
More clients, more money.
"—And if they don't want to pay, he takes care of it.
Either he scares them, or he beats them up.
But no one leaves without paying money now."
I congratulated them.
Prosperity, I suppose.
And then, something strange happened:
Green Pajamas spoke.
For the first time.
I looked at him, genuinely surprised.
Until now, I thought he was mute or simply unable to speak.
But he decided to tell his life story.
He said that, in his world, he was a masseur.
Very good, according to him.
So good that celebrities hired him.
"—I couldn't fuck them" he said, bluntly "without risking losing the job...
or ending up in prison."
I nodded.
A common story among repressed degenerates.
---
That day, they had done well.
So they decided to go eat.
They invited me.
Pigtails seemed to see me as a friend.
I didn't refuse.
I was hungry.
And it was free food.
We went to a street grill.
A woman with huge breasts was running it.
The cleavage barely covered the nipples.
Green Pajamas was looking at her.
I was too.
Good pair.
They made you want to rest your head there and suck all afternoon.
Pigtails ordered meat.
It was noticeable that she had money.
Green Pajamas made some gestures.
Pigtails didn't understand.
She asked me to translate.
"—I'm going to fuck that woman" I said, with the most neutral tone I could, pointing to Green Pajamas.
"Maybe we'll get the food for free."
Pigtails gave a thumbs up, amused.
Green Pajamas looked at me.
"—Want to join?"
I looked at the griller.
She didn't seem inexperienced.
Not with that outfit.
Walking around with her tits out didn't give a good impression.
And whether it was for the free food or the good vibe of Pigtails,
I decided to open up a bit.
I talked to them about my tastes.
About what I really liked.
Virgins.
Green Pajamas looked at me strangely.
A mix of surprise and doubt.
But Pigtails wasn't surprised.
"—It's normal.
I have friends who eat virgin boys.
And there are clients who dream of that.
Even some girls join us sometimes just to lose their virginity."
She smiled, as if talking about an afternoon at the movies.
"—Since I consider you my friend, I'll let you know if any come along.
Virgin-eaters aren't that rare."
I just nodded.
A little grateful.