A whore with no pain

 

She had been selected as soon as she was admitted to the sorting camp, with her husband and children. Before that, they had lived far away at a friend's house in the country. She had to leave her home town, which had become a battlefield. 

After years of harsh living and near-elopement, she and her family were exhausted by deprivation, disease, and the constant attacks of marauders who roamed the countryside in search of food, sex, and plunder. 

She could no longer stand the cold life in a poorly heated house in the middle of an unknown, cold and wet countryside. During a last assault, they had suffered many losses. Her eldest son had been wounded. She didn't want to fight anymore, she wanted to go back to her old life. 

This life of struggle and resistance, she could no longer lead. So, when the soldiers of the Mundialist army arrived, she begged her husband to surrender and go to the camp, as they were invited.

They were given clean clothes. There were showers, hygiene products. She had cried to be able to take a hot shower and put on cotton clothes.

Unfortunately, her husband had been a polemicist writer. Despite his discretion, he was quickly identified. After only two days, the whole family was separated. Her husband was taken to another place outside the camp. Her children were taken from her.

She had been selected as a pleasure slave. Yet she was no longer a young woman. She didn't know exactly what criteria had been used, but it was a long and complex formula that included her measurements, her height, her fascia, her ethnic background, her family history, her education that designated her to become a courtesan of the New World Order. Being a courtesan was an enviable position in this time of great turmoil.

This status allowed her not only to escape extermination, but to avoid the production or even reproduction centers, those vast buildings where the last enslaved humans were parked. 

A first sorting determined who lived and who died. Eight to nine out of ten people were eliminated. 

The second sorting determined the function of the selected survivor. Of those who were allowed to live, the majority were sent to production, working 16+ hour days. One did not survive for long.

It was destined for pleasure. Master pleasure put you almost at the top of the slave hierarchy, on the same level as engineers and maintenance specialists. 

Except she didn't agree. She didn't want to offer her body to anyone but her husband. They solved this little problem by removing part of her brain. By removing certain areas, she became as docile as a lamb and saw no obstacle to doing what was asked of her. She did not really suffer, she did not remember her husband and children. She had no past, no emotions. Only from time to time she cried silently. She was given a pill. She slept and woke up without remembering the reason for her tears.

She was sent to a huge brothel. There were women of all ages, all races, all kinds of people. The idea was to offer all profiles to suit the fantasies of the masters. 

She never spoke to the other women. Most of them had been lobotomized like her. 

These sex slaves had no desire to connect. They ate, slept, smiled, answered questions, and submitted to all requests without question, never complaining.

She was offered in this way for years to every whim. She felt no shame, no discomfort. When she was injured or ill, she was repaired. As soon as she recovered, she was put back in the salons. She served for a very long time, because her profile, even with age, was pleasing. 

It was a second singular life that she lived. This one ended when a client pushed his fantasy too far. She was discovered too late, bathed in a pool of blood, the veins in her neck cut. The service staff cleaned up the place, the room was redone. The client, a young man of high birth, was never bothered. Cases of psychopathy were frequent among these children of the oligarchy and it was legal and accepted to dispose of slaves as one wished.