Satisfied, Sam put her hands to her sides and saw with grim satisfaction the beads of sweat on his upper lip.

"Great, did you like it?"

Jefe ran a hand over his mouth. "So far, so good, sugar doll, remember the second part of our agreement."

Sam had considered her role well. She leaned forward and spoke to him in a clearly audible voice. "After that, I longed for the most." She opened Jefe's pants. He jumped up and was naked in seconds. Sam looked down, examining. Here she did not have to do any 'building work' anymore. She looked questioningly at Jefe.

Sam refrained from laughing when he dutifully took out a condom and put it on. Gently she pushed him back onto the chair and sat down on his lap.

While Sam was processing onlookers for viewers, she casually realized that the rest of the 40 men had gone over to the usual procedure. However, she wanted to believe that everything was less violent and quieter.

Sam heard the whispered words of her audience and was glad that the fulfillment of these wishes caused her no greater discomfort. The riding number with Jefe, twice oral sex, twice missionary and once from behind. That could have been much worse. Sam had difficulty convincing her copulation partners to use condoms.

First and foremost, Sam thought of sexually transmitted diseases, but could convince the men only with the argument that they hardly wanted to come into contact with the legacies of their predecessors. The argument drew.

While Sam was busy, she occasionally looked unobtrusively to the gallery. She saw surprised, helpless - but mostly greedy - faces. Only Brutus stood with a stony expression on the pillar and watched Sam expressionless.

The end of the event was pretty unspectacular. While their audience bravely cleared the chairs, Sam gathered her clothes and went over to the collection showers. The other women gave her venomous looks and whispered. Sam took it easy, should they. They were victims, cattle. At least Sam took her fate into her own hands.

Brutus and two colleagues guarded the showering women. For Sam they were air. If everything went according to plan, soon a part of the guards would dance to their tune.

As she stepped to her bundle of clothes, Brutus poked the tip of his baton against her shoulder. "Everybody out."

His colleagues urged the women to hurry and leave the room. As the door closed behind them, Brutus put away the baton and began to clap slowly and loudly.

Sam ignored his ironic appearance and began to dress.

"Good show, Scherenlady, I'm now involved in 50% of sales, inform your pimp."

Sam was about to stuff the string in her pocket when Brutus tore it from her fingers. He turned the tiny piece of cloth into his huge paws. He looked at Sam and held the thing under his nose. He took a deep breath.

"Do not fool yourself, I'll buy you the show, I've had my fingers in you and looked into your face when you came."

Sam hardly trusted her ears. What did this pig actually imagine? Silently, she buttoned the last button of her top. Brutus's fingers shot forward, closing painfully around her wrist.

"What you up to?" he growled.

Although the grip was extremely painful, no sound came over Sam's lips.

He let her go angrily. "I find out, rely on it."

The next two months after Sam's premiere were quiet. Sam was used again every week, while the other women changed frequently. Not every week was as peaceful as the kick-off event. At one point, Sam steadfastly refused to plait for a fat Puerto Rican braid and call him 'Daddy' while he tried to fondle her.

But Jefe hit her with a bloody lip. Sam thought of Jessica and remained stubborn. In the end, Jefe was pissed off, 'Daddy' was in the genital area with bite marks on the infirmary, and Sam's lip was three days thick like a balloon.

Another time Sam had refused to satisfy a completely disturbed old man orally. His thing was scabby and littered with a purulent rash. Again, Jefe had little sympathy for Sam's refusal. Sam barked out two lazy teeth to Tattergreis and Jefe nearly had a heart attack when he tried to drown Sam by the hair in a toilet-key.

Apart from these two events, the relationship between Jefe and Sam actually worked quite well. They met at irregular intervals in the library to coordinate further action.