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... of my money!" A man who had come to pay my services for a month was shouting in front of the person we called as 'Madam'.

That man wearing a fine shirt, begging like he need me the most.

I don't even remember him.

That woman with a large body and a foul pheromone scent is the madam of this place. She was the one who bought me from my father.

I'm sitting on a wooden chair behind a large glass window like a mannequin wearing a transparent nightgown so that my body p ...

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