"Come on. get cleaned up. You have your first customer."

"W...what?" Otis asked over his shoulder as he was thrown into the shower, cold water spraying him immediately as Soap was tossed to him.

"You think you're just going to live here? No sweetie. You gotta help pay the bills, too." The woman turned, slamming the door. "Don't take too long. He's waiting."

Otis cleaned himself as best he could with the freezing water. He shivered as a towel was thrown at him, along with a pair of clean underwear.

Once he had dried himself, he was led down a long hallway and into a room- the walls were a nauseating pink, the bedspread a dusty blue, and it was freezing. He swore he could see his breath.

The door suddenly opened again behind him and he turned, alarmed. A large man stood in the doorframe in a three piece suit. He was dressed well, but something about him...fuck, did he look mean.

"W...who are you...?" He asked, backing up until he felt his legs against the bed.

"I'm your master for the night." The man smiled cruelly, removing his tie.

"What?" His eyes widened. "I-I...I don't know what you're talking about..."

"Oh, darling. You're new here aren't you?" he smirked and grabbed Otis by the throat. He began to tremble almost immediately, staring wide eyed at the man. "I like it rough."

"No! No!" Otis struggled against him as his hands were tied with the other man's necktie. "Stop! You can't do this!"

"Oh, I can. And I will. I paid to, after all." He smirked as he saw tears roll down Otis's face. "Sweet little innocent thing. The new ones always are so scared."

The night seemed to drag on and on as Otis was used by the other man, who seemed to have endless stamina and threshold for violence.

Covered in blood, evidence of the man's pleasure, sweat and tears, Otis sobbed on the bed. How the fuck had he ended up here? All he wanted was a dry place to lay his head at night.

He heard his door open again and just lie there. He knew he had no place to go. No where to hide. What would he do instead?

"Otis...?" He heard a small voice. A woman. His head jerked to look at the owner. A petite, scantily dressed woman stood in the doorframe, peering at him. "Are you okay?"

"I can't...I can't do anymore right now leave me alone!" He sobbed. "Leave!"

"No, no honey. I'm not another customer. I work here, too." She entered, closing the door behind her and approaching him.

"I don't work here!" He shrieked, lurching up and trying to defend himself from her. "I don't work here! I just wanted a place to stay!" He sobbed, beginning to tremble again.

"Shhhh...I know. I know." She stroked his hair, desperately trying to comfort him. "I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry..."

"I just got away!" He gasped for air. "I just got away from this! I can't do this anymore!"

"What did you get away from, sweetie?"

"My parents! Th...They...They..." His sobs redoubled and he pulled his knees to his chest. "Noooooo..." He moaned.

"Your parents...did this to you...?"

He nodded, beginning to rock himself back and forth.

"Listen, sweetie...I...I know it's...I know it's hard. But trust me, it's better than living out there. I've been there, too...It's so, so scary. But this is so much better. Not all customers are like that. Most aren't. You...You're gonna be okay...Come on." She helped him up. "Let's get you cleaned up again..."

"No...I can't..." Knees buckling under him, he staggered into her.

"Ooh, honey...I know...But you have to. Madame scheduled your next client in 20 minutes."

She helped him to the showers once again- much more gently this time- and helped him dry his wounds.

"He cut you..."

Tears spilled from Otis's eyes once more and he nodded.

"What else did...did he do, sweetheart?"

Otis averted his eyes.

"How old are you, Otis?"

"I-I...I'm only 19..."

"Oh, fuck..."

"Otis! Client!" Madame yelled from downstairs.

"Come on. Let's get you ready." She helped him back to his room.

The next client was a woman. Older, slightly embarrassed. She was gentle, and slightly awkward. But it didn't take long for her to be satisfied.

As the days rolled on, Otis found that that was the case more often than not, and he began to settle into this new life.

It wasn't long before another customer too much like his first came, and he found himself bleeding on the floor again.

He coughed, staining the floor with his blood tinged mucous, and tried to make his head stop spinning as he sat up. He heard the door open and saw the same girl from before come in.

"I'm okay..."

"Clearly." She deadpanned, walking over to him a little too quickly for his tastes. He flinched, closing his eyes and willing her to go away.

"What...?"

"I'm gonna help you get patched up. You're done for the night. Whenever that bastard comes in, she doesn't let the person who serviced him have any more clients for the night."

"Don't touch me..." He pleaded. "It hurts...Please..."

"I know. I'm going to help. Just relax." She produced a first aid kit seemingly from nowhere and began to wipe the blood from his face. He flinched back wildly, beating his head off of the wall.

"You're fine, you're fine...Shhh..." She sighed. "No one should have to go through this so young...You're only 19..."

"What's the date..?" He asked, peering out from under an already swollen brow bone.

"December 23rd...Right before Christmas." She answered. "Why?"

He snorted, blood squirting out of his nose. "I'm 20, now..."

"When was your birthday, sweetie?"

"Today..."

She stopped for a moment, taking in the sight before her. The poor, weak young man who was nothing more than skin and bone. Already suffering so much. Trying to escape abuse and only lucking into more. And on top of it all, today was the poor son of a bitch's birthday. "Happy birthday, sweetheart..."