Chapter 1: Beginning (Normal Situation)
Fuck.
There were just five fucking minutes left before her alarm went off, and Emily Johnson lay wide awake in her shitheap of a dorm room. Her mind raced as she stared at the ceiling of her room, surrounded by piles of dirty laundry plastered with dried, disgusting stains of weeks of debauchery and reckless sexual abandon.
Guilt and cum oozed out of her insides. She didn't even have enough money to wash her clothes or food. She was wearing cum-stained clothes, even her shoes were stained.
Fuck, the scent of her pussy lingered in the air, a constant reminder of the debt that forced her to sink to this level.
Emily sighed as she threw off her covers, and swung her petite body to the edge of her bed. She stood up gingerly, wincing at the ache between her legs. A crusty mess from last night's client still stained her sheets, along with the cum-covered quilt featuring cartoon characters that she bought at a charity shop last year.
Emily looked around her room - the piles of cum-crusted clothes on the floor, the stained sheets and blankets, the sheer mess of it all - and she felt like breaking down and crying.
But then she heard her alarm clock blaring from her nightstand, and she remembered that she had to get up and go to her job.
She couldn't afford to be late again. She couldn't afford to lose her job.
She needed it to pay off her debt, which was piling up at an alarming rate. Emily let out a deep sigh as she headed to the small closet in the corner of her room and pulled out a black skirt and a white blouse that were semi-clean.
Emily grimaced as she put on her panties, they still smelled of the man who fucked her last night. But she didn't have the luxury to be picky. She put on her clothes and quickly ran a brush through her short, curly brown hair. Hoping that she didn't have any cum left in it.
She grabbed her backpack, slung it over her shoulder, and headed towards the door.
She stole one last glance at her room before leaving, and the reality of her situation hit her again. She had nothing else to sell except her own body, but she couldn't afford to think about it right now. She had to get to work.
Emily took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped out into the hallway. The fluorescent lights above buzzed and flickered, casting a dim glow over her as she made her way to the stairs. Her legs felt heavy, weighed down by the exhaustion from constantly being on the go.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she could hear the sounds of students talking and laughing in the common room up ahead. She quickened her pace, not wanting to be confronted by anyone because she would be late to work.
She couldn't risk losing her job. Not now, not when she was sinking deeper and deeper into debt.
As she approached the door to the common room, she stopped and looked both ways to see if there was anyone around. It appeared empty, so she let out a sigh of relief and opened the door to leave the building. Only to run into the delivery man who needed a signature.