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The Magic Shop

Dreams in ink

added by Actim Yesterday O Female Clothes

It's been a while since I've done this... Usually I don't do female prostitution, but the rent is starting to get really high...

I've been hired because of my supossed "petiteness". It's just because I'm small, and I guess cute that I get my clients.

There's nothing I can do about it... If only something would change...

I got up from the bed, my client still sleeping, a well endowed woman who didn't even gave their name. The body mirror on the wall made me contemplate myself again. My lack of curve, my long flowing hair, my wide soft eyes, my overall childish demeanor, all of that while being 22 year old... *Sigh*... I'm not even 5 feet tall, and stopped growing a while back.

Well, I better start getting dressed and packing up my things before she wokes up. More often than not, they ask another round as they woke up, so I don't linger. I never liked sex, it's kind of a weird way to show appreciation to someone. Hugs, cuddles and pats are more my things, they make me feel safe and truly cared about, and not used because of my appearance. Also, there's time where they hurt me... and I can't help but trying to struggle, but I guess that's what they like with me...

Anyway! I need to put something on! I swiftly togged up my green drop waist dress, and slid my legs into my socks and shoes. Underwears is probably unecessary for the way back home. I grabbed my purse, and saw a pen drop out at the same time I picked it up. Assuming it is mine, I just took it and stashed it back.

I take the care to close the door behind me, slowly to not wake anyone up on this early morning. The sun is barely illuminating the streets within this weak dusk. The passersby are few and quiet, as the singing of the bird feels the air with their melody. Walking from here shouldn't take too long before reaching my appartment. You know I have to share it with three other roomates? Or at least they share it with me... I'm the only one with no real job and they are pressuring me to get it soon. They don't know about my prostitution work, and probably wouldn't believe me considering my overall body shape.

The scrapping of gravel under my shoes almost echoes through the empty roads, and as I turn again, I reaches the building that holds me home. Direction the top floor.


What do you do now?


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