Yay, happy birthday to me. I sat before you trying to hold back my tears. It was my 18th birthday. Today I wasn't surrounded by loving family. Instead, a few feet away, a blue-haired girl lay passed out with a needle in her arm, placed there by the very man I was meeting. Her shirt was pushed up exposing one breast, and her legs spread. Some pimps were known to drug their girls. The dependency made it less likely they would run away. Either you followed a similar practice, or the girl next to me was just an addict.

It didn't matter, I was here for a reason. Even though the thought of why I was here disgusted me. I felt sick, or was that the hunger gnawing at me? I took a deep breath to gather my courage, "I am May, please let me work for you." The idea of a man touching me made me shiver, but I needed food, and I couldn't remember the last time I had a warm bath. "Um, I'm still a virgin, if that makes a difference."

The couch creaked as I adjusted my position, one hand protectively covering my medium-sized breasts, the other hand resting nervously over my crotch. I felt exposed, like you could see through my threadbare clothes. I knew you wouldn't put me on the corner untested. My heart raced at the thought of what would happen next, my palms sweating despite the chill running down my spine.