First week there, that is, the dark-haired teen had been selling himself since he was fifteen and his parents kicked him out for being gay (and for having sex with the mailman) . It had been nearly five years of standing on street corners, slipping into bars and seducing the drunks- he'd come to Nickel and Dime for the sake of having a roof over his head and some steady money. But he ought to have read his contract a little closer, which he found out after tossing out a customer that thought it'd be great fun to beat him up a bit.
Vale didn't think it was fun at all, though it turns out he didn't have the right to refuse. And after much angry shrieking at the management, he'd ended up here.
He had wondered about this room, it was attached to the lobby, but no one had used it in the time he'd been there, though a few of the other hookers had joked it was where they put the boys who misbehaved. He hadn't believed them though, not until now. Management force fed him some sort of sedative, he'd went limp right after ingesting it, and dragged him here and stripped him, sticking one of those standing donation boxes in front of him.
They bound his arms behind his back, strapping his forearms together in one long leather casing, which was zipped up and then tightened with buckles, buckled strappings held his calves against his thighs- the management didn't want him fighting back anymore. An o-ring gag was strapped around his head, catching his teeth and forcing his mouth open for whoever it did please, though at the moment it was plugged- they found him noisy.
A blindfold had also been forced on him, though before it was they took great pleasure in letting the teen watch as they took permanent marker to his body, the words 'Fuck for Charity' written across his cheeks and 'Donations Accepted Here, Be Generous' across his ass. They littered his chest with more, 'Fuck to End Poverty' written most boldly.
Another pill was stuck on his tongue, though he was fairly certain it was an aphrodisiac this time, because as it fizzled away he felt hornier, not weaker- it wasn't something he'd put past the bastards.
They left him after that, though not before telling him he needed to make five dollars for 'charity' if he wanted to be released (happily neglecting to say the donation box had a hole only large enough for coins, and they would be informing their customers he was a 'nickel and dime' special) .
Left alone, Vale could do nothing but squirm where he sat, toes curling as he tried to swallow the saliva in his mouth, jaw tight around it's restraint. He was pissed, though he was starting to find his anger a little difficult to focus on, the aphrodisiac distracting him with a pleasant (yet unpleasant) throbbing between his legs. He hadn't signed up for this sort of thing! The teen jerked his shoulders with a growl as his anger gave an absent flare.
God damn this place...