by
I was in a mansion, surrounded by rich men and women in their tuxedos and evening gowns who were sipping champagne from crystal glasses-and here was me standing in the middle of them. I was wearing my street attire, just as when I had been picked up-short leather skirt, skimpy black top that showed off my arms covered in track marks, my face covered in fuck me make up. I was sure they could all smell the filthy aroma of my last customers cum in my panties-I knew I could.
I knew what this was, sometimes the rich folks liked to go down market and go for a cheap and nasty crack whore that would suck their dicks for five dollars. At least I thought I knew what was going on. But then the crowd parted, and in came a horse. Yes, a real live fucking big black snorting horse, its hooves clanking on the floor as everyone began to clap. I could also hear a splattering sound, as if liquid from somewhere was dripping onto the carpet. The man leading in the horse began to address everyone.
