Daddy s Party Girl
I'd sunk so low since that time that Daddy had bred me. He'd soon persuaded me into darker, more decadent forms of filth. When we got out of the car he led me by the collar to the club. There was a small neon sign above the door, flickering and flashing in pink. It was called pistols. Muffled techno was coming from upstairs. He hammered on the door three times, and a slot was swished back. Brooding eyes appeared and then the slot was slid back into place with a clang. Bolts were unlocked slowly...