The footsteps slowed when their cause spotted her, dropping to a few nervous ones as the man, woman, or whoever it was approached. With closed eyes Zoey could only picture their faces... She could only imagine the glimmer in their eyes that carried their thoughts. Everyone there - even the lowly maids and servants - looked down on her; they might work for the smallest of wages doing hard, horrible labour, but neither were they kneeling in a corridor holding a mouth of cum. In that instant Zoey was quite possibly the very lowest whore in the city, and all of her observers knew it.<br/><br/>The footsteps moved on, but they weren't the last. Another pair approach, chattering all the way til they saw her, at which point their conversation swiftly diverted. There was a man and a woman, judging by their voices, and it was the woman that half shrieked first.<br/>"Ahh! Oh... Oh I suppose Sir has a new plaything?"<br/>"Looks like it... I wonder if he'll share?" There was the sound of a soft thump, from where she had punished him for thinking of other women. "Okay okay! But still..." They passed out of earshot, leaving her to consider her position as a lewd, awful statuette.<br/><br/>There was a final fellow, as quiet as the first, though she knew it was a man by the roughness of his hands as he clutched at a tit on the way past. Noone -stopped-, but she had no doubt they were staring, watching, gossiping...<br/><br/>And then the door opened behind her, and a slightly more familiar voice fell to her ears. "Back inside, please." He stood aside, letting her back into the slightly less public space of the large lounge-cum-study. Finally the orde rshe'd yearned so strongly for came. "And you may swallow it down. Then you will thank me, as you always must for my seed..."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>