1

Camilla

"Camilla? You're late again! What do you think you are? Some ballerina? You're just a dancer here, so you better practice hard or you won't amount to anything!" The owner of the nightclub where I worked started yelling at me again for being late to daily practice.

I had to admit I was lucky to have this job! I was a virgin—totally pure! Yeah, I'd never dated, never had a boyfriend. Never anything, not even a kiss.

I wasn't lazy, but I really hated the job. It was the only one I could get with zero skills. I tried to finish college, but my parents told me to depend on myself since I was twenty-one now. That's why they kicked me out of the house.

Maybe they were right. They already had enough on their plate with five younger brothers. Yeah! So I was kind of a burden, but I just wished they could've waited one more year until I graduated.

Anyway, that's me—Camilla—standing in the middle of the stage at a low-class nightclub, shaking my ass for drunk guys every night to earn a hundred bucks at the end.

It wasn't that bad. At least none of them tried to sleep with me or anything. The guards protected us dancers, not because we were special, but because the customers were too broke to pay for a one-night stand with us. Which was actually a good thing.

I snapped out of my deep thoughts and went back to join the other dancers. I was a terrible dancer, but I had a good curvy body, which was a plus for me.

The owner pointed his finger in my face and warned me, "One more screw-up and I'll kick you out of this club, Camilla. Got it?"

I took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, sir."

He shook his head like he couldn't believe it and walked away.

---

A couple of hours later, we were ready for the show like always. I put on my strapless golden tight dress that showed almost everything except my nipples and my pussy. Yeah, it was sparkly and see-through, showing my ass and every damn thing.

The dance started, and we rocked it. The guests' whistles got louder, and that's when a very elegant man stepped inside, followed by a bunch of guards—not our guards. My eyes followed his steps. I was curious why a guy in an expensive suit would come to a dump like this. Then I saw the owner bowing his head to him.

That's when the man pulled out a gun and shouted, "I'm gonna fucking kill you! I warned you—pay the money or I'll cut your throat." His words were harsh and dead serious. The music stopped. The lights came on, and all of us—even the guests—froze in place.

I stepped a little closer, wanting to see what was going on and what was wrong with this guy. Or maybe I just wanted to see his face.

The man pulled the trigger and growled, "Say goodbye to your life."

I don't know where I got the guts, but I yelled from the stage, turning his eyes and full attention to me. "I'll pay his debt."

He looked at me lazily, and it was hard for us to make out each other's eye color from that distance. He boldly crooked his finger at me. "Come here."

I dropped my gaze to the floor and walked toward him, step by step, hesitantly. I didn't look up until he grabbed my chin and lifted it. That was enough to make me surrender to his eyes right then. To hand him my heart from the first glance! What was he? A devil in the form of a Greek god!

He stared deep into my eyes with a blank look and asked, "Is he your boyfriend?"

I shook my head and barely got the word out. "No, I work for him."

He nodded and stepped closer, leaning into my face. His warm breath sent shivers all over my body. "So how do you plan to pay his debt?"

I shrugged, feeling confused. I really didn't know how, so I just said, "I don't know. Anything!"

He chuckled like he was mocking me. "Your body?"

I blinked, stunned, and stepped back. "I'll dance for you."

His eyes went wide in shock, and I could tell that wasn't what he expected at all. "Dance for me?" He looked up and zoned out, like he was thinking about my offer.

Then suddenly, he smirked like the devil. "No."

I breathed hard, trying to think of something else or just run from the trap I'd walked into. "Then what do you want, mister?!"

"You," he said simply.

My jaw dropped, and he added, "Your body!"

He stepped closer and ran his hand shamelessly from my boobs down to my pussy. "I want you to be my slave!"

"What the fuck! A slave? No!" I yelled, not believing it and refusing.

But when I turned to run, he grabbed my arms and said, "You'll work in my BDSM club as a slave."

I dropped to my knees at his feet and begged, "No, sir, please. I can't, please—"

He frowned and said in a bored tone, "Stop whining! Aren't you a whore anyway? I'll pay you a ton of money."

"I'm not a fucking whore! I'm a virgin—" I shouted, and all the dancers and even the owner chimed in at the same time, "Yeah, she is."

And like that was the turning point of my life, it seemed to encourage him to take me with him. He snapped his fingers at his men and looked away from me. "Bring that girl."