Amelia
Amelia stood impatiently in line at the high end dance club she frequented most weekends. It was chilly out and she was dressed appallingly for the weather. A sheer, tightly fitting crop top stretched across her chest, amplifying the black lacy bra holding her large tits in place. Her black skirt flowed loosely around her upper thighs and balanced precariously around her hips. Peeking out of her skirt were her garters, clipped to her thigh high stockings trimmed with lace. She also had "forgotten" to wear panties. Indeed, she was cold; her nipples were hard as rock, providing proof of the cold as they poked out beneath her bra.
She made her way to the front of the line, and her favorite bouncer looked her over. Her shoulder length red hair was styled in stylish waves, and a dusting of sexy little freckles laid across her nose and under her piercing blue eyes. She was an expert at makeup, making her look extremely high end and alluring.
The bouncer smirked at her and guided her to a semi private pat-down area - he loved to test the limits with her. He had her hold her arms out and legs spread, and then he guided his hands over her body. He lingered on her breasts, and she felt the heat rise from his palms, making her nipples tense and wetness form between her naked slit. She loved when men took advantage of her sexy appearance. It excited her to watch them lose control and touch her inappropriately.
She said nothing as the bouncer continued to pat her down. His hands rose up her inner thighs and suddenly stopped, surprised at the heat pulsating from her pussy - this was the first time she had not worn panties. He let his fingertips brush the slit of her naked cunt, and she could feel him shiver, and watched with a smirk as the front of his pants tented. She moaned softly, letting him know she enjoyed it. He brought his fingers up to his nose and sniffed, then smiled at her wickedly and ushered her inside, telling her to have a good time.
Once inside, Amelia made a beeline for the club's closest bar and order a tequila shot. She wanted to be slightly buzzed for the night of fun she intended on having: she planned to get fucked on the dance floor.
She quickly licked the salt from her hand, swallowed her shot, and squeezed the lime juice into her mouth before ordering another and getting comfortable on the bar seat. She swiveled around so she faced the incoming crowd of party goers. Her legs spread naturally, and her barely-there skirt rose up, revealing the naked Y of her thighs and pussy. She noticed, but decided not to fix her skirt. She wanted men, and women, drooling over her tonight.
Adam
He watched Amelia enter the club and go straight to the bar, as she always did. She was a regular and he had been keeping an eye on her for several months now. Adam owned the club, and was also a criminal; specializing in money laundering and sex trafficking. His club was the perfect front for both. Adam loved his lifestyle. He loved the power he held over women, and in some cases, men. He grew up in the criminal underworld, being mentored by mob bosses and criminal kings. This club and it's dark web of crimes was his rightful place, and he ruled it with ease and elegance.
Amelia was the perfect target for a sex slave. She was promiscuous by nature and loved attention. She also lived alone, had no boyfriend, dead parents, no close relatives, and few friends - all of whom were mostly work friendships. She was the perfect lone wolf. Adam knew this information easily. It only took one swipe of her credit card to have his PI trace every movement of her life.
Amelia would break easily when tempted with a luxurious lifestyle and endless sexual encounters. Her ultimate obedience, unique beauty, and sex appeal would earn Adam a pretty penny.
He had decided early in his stalking of Amelia that he would personally train her prior to selling her. She would be worth much more already being trained and properly educated in sophistication. His clients expected the best, and he was prepared to give that to them.
