The Omega Effect. Samara. Part Four.

"Whatcha mean you ain't a whore?" Samara's roommate had scowled, swiping away the thin sheen of glowing red powder that covered her nose and upper lip. "You're goin out ta fuck people for money, ain't ya?"

"It's... it's different." Samara had winced, backing away as her 'friend' staggered to her feet, inflated bosom slick with sweat and nine-inch platform stilettos clacking on the floor as she struggled to remain upright. "I didn't mean to offend, I just meant that..."

"Howz it fucking different?" her roommate sneered. "What, you think bouncing your fat ass on some krogan dick don't count cos you'd rather be sunning on some beach back home?"

"No I… this, this is your life." Samara sighed reluctantly, "But i am just doing what I must to escape, that's all."

"It's my life." her roommate snorted, wobbling slightly in place and almost losing her balance. Samara wanted to reach out to steady her, but frankly as her roommate was still wearing the rewards of a four-person cumbath, she was reluctant to even stand within dripping range. 

All she had wanted was to ask her not to keep stealing from her shuttle fare savings, not to cause an argument, but it seemed her friend was in an oddly coherent state this evening.

"Bitch, I was a fucking teacher, I came here to help people, to lift them outta poverty, to make a change for the better. You think I wanted to be like this? I did what I hadda do to survive, same as you. Only difference between us is you're still tryna deny what you've become."

With a sniff and another wobble, she pressed close, her plastic tits mashing against Samara's equally implanted chest as she leant forwards. Samara swallowed, feeling cold seed smear over her naked skin, smelling the thick, stale stench that was pouring off her roommate's sullied flesh. 

"If you ain't a whore, don't go out tonight. Don't suck no dicks, don't fuck no men, go do some fuckin' justicar business instead and see what it gets you."

Her words still rang in Samara's ears as she followed her first customer into her favourite alley just an hour later. The knowledge that her friend had once been like her wasn't a surprise, but it still stung to know for sure. What was worse that despite being a spunk-smeared, drug-addled wreck of a woman, she was absolutely right.

The wetness between Samara's thighs as she walked down her usual alley only made her feel worse. Her azure was practically throbbing with eagerness, greedy for another feast of filthy alien sperm. Her nipples were as hard as stone, naked in the breeze, tingling and aching to be licked, pinched and chewed on.

She was a whore, there was no denying it, no deluding herself anymore. As she braced herself against the alley wall and felt the stinking Vorcha who'd bought her azure force his way inside her, she let out a whimper of despair.

She'd always looked down on women who sold their bodies, sneering with smug superiority at people forced to to whatever they had to to survive. All her sanctimonious holier-than-though attitudes were all a big joke now.

She was a whore, and secretly she loved it. She could have stopped, she could have found another way, but maybe deep down she'd craved to be proved a hypocrite. As she moaned and smacked her ass back against the vorcha, she began to giggle.

She wasn't better than anyone, really. she was the bottom of the food chain, a piece of meat to be used and abused freely. Not out of desperation, or from a lack of choice, but because this was what she had always been deep down...

A whore.

This piece was made by the wonderful Mavruda as the fourth of five parts