As the sun began to rise, the bar was a mess of discarded clothes and empty beer bottles. Candy lay on the floor, her body bruised and used, but she didn't care. The only thing she could think about was the next cock, the next round of degradation that awaited her. The need was like a hunger, an all-consuming fire that could never be sated.

And as the first truck of the morning pulled into the lot, she heard the door creak open, the sound of booted feet on the sticky floor. She looked up, her eyes glazed with lust, her body already responding. This was it, she thought. This was what she had been made for. The first man stepped forward, his pants already around his ankles, and she spread her legs wider, welcoming him with a whimper of anticipation.