Inside, eight to ten young women huddled together, their bodies covered with bruises and scratches.
Each of them wore an expression that clearly showed they had just escaped from a near-impossible situation, as if the jaws of hell themselves had almost caught them.
Not one of them will be able to please any other man the same way they have been doing in the past.
Today was sure to be a traumatic memory!
Old Duck Head, the madam of the boat, hearing the pleading screams of her young employees, burst in, furious at the scene.
But before she could speak, a heavy bag of silver slammed onto the deck at her feet.
Enough to buy her silence ten times over.
From behind the beaded curtain, a hoarse voice rasped:
"Change the group tomorrow night."
Old Duck Head weighed the silver carefully.
Her expression switched from rage to glee immediately. Bending her back and smiling fauningly.
"As long as Master has money," she said, "any problem can be solved."
