Virginity for Sale

The maid, seeing all this, every day increased the dose of medicine to Alexander, brought by Oleg from a mysterious ‘doctor friend’, bought by the latter from some underground laboratory. This doctor promised that thanks to these drugs, the father would become calm as a vegetable and he would be completely ‘not up to sex’. But Alexander held fast and even an increased dosage did not help stop him.

In despair, Miroslava one day decided to double the dose given to him, in the hope that this would not kill him, but would help stop him. In addition to this, the intricate woman decided to take the pharmaceutical initiative, adding more of her own sleeping pills, which helped her to sleep soundly when insomnia attacked. The sleeping pill was quite harmless, Miroslava added it without a second thought, in order to surely put the bastard ‘to sleep’ and give Diana a little time to heal her wounds.

After feeding the owner breakfast and drinking ‘well-seasoned coffee’, she set off on shaking legs to carry out her duties around the house, fearing that if Alexander somehow found out about her affairs, she would be in big trouble.

On the same night, when Oleg saw the torn apart Diana, an ulcer opened up from a nervous shock and he was taken away in an ambulance. Diana’s salvation was now the work of Miroslava alone, and seeing what the owner does every day with the unfortunate woman, she decided to take the risk and increase the dose more actively.

After breakfast, the lord of the estate, out of habit, went to Diana. After waking her up, he helped her up and dragged her towards the installation. Feeling a surge of intense heat, he stopped to catch his breath and looked at Diana in horror. After a few moments, his eyes suddenly darkened and he felt himself turn off. His stomach twisted again and he was attacked by a violent attack of nausea.

“Now, wait a little, honey. Give me a minute, and we will continue…” He said in confusion, trying to move the chair on which he usually sat and masturbated, watching his ward suffer.

With grief in half, he again went to Diana and quickly fastened her arms and legs, and then went to the bed in search of the remote control. His eyes suddenly darkened again and he stumbled over the lying wire of the sex machine, flew to the floor and hit his head on one of the protruding pillars that he specially ordered so that Diana’s hands and feet could be tied. The pillars were high enough and were made in such a way that the tied victim could hang from them when Alexander needed it most urgently.

Everything happened too quickly, Diana did not even immediately understand what happened. With difficulty she managed to turn her head to one side and she saw how Alexander was lying on the floor and blood was slowly flowing out of his head in a thin stream.

“Help me, Diana…” He whispered and in his eyes she saw wild fear.

Diana lay chained to a chair and was shocked no less than her master.

“Help me, please! I need help.” Alexander whispered again and held out his hand to her.

“How can I help you, Master? I am tied…” Diana cried, afraid that he might die from the injury. She tried to pull her arms out, but the straps held her firmly.

“I can’t, Master, I can’t free myself.” She squeaked in a frightened voice.

The first reaction, instilled in her from childhood, the life and health of the owner above all, made her sweat, trying to free herself and come to the aid of Alexander. But somewhere inside herself, she caught a strange and frightening thought that if he died now, then everyone will only get better from this.

Most of all, she feared for Oleg that Alexander would find out about their secret meetings and harm him. If she could choose who should die, then let it be the evil Alexander and not the noble Oleg.

“Call someone for help, you idiot!” The man moaned again, his tongue tangled and writhing from severe pain in his head.

Diana began to scream and call for help, but the servants in this house were already accustomed to her daily screams, so no one reacted or entered the room. The staff had clear instructions not to interfere in the affairs of their employer, what he does there with his girlfriend is not their concern.

For several minutes Diana screamed and called for help, but then she stopped.

“Why aren’t you calling? Keep screaming, they will hear you and come! Don’t stop.” Alexander groaned, trying to get up.

He slightly raised himself and he, with grief in half, managed to sit down. He could not scream, he was sick and seeing double. He tried to get up and at that moment he vomited. Desperately, he crawled towards the door, at the same time trying to get up again. The sight of his own blood terrified him, he felt the approach of death and desperately wanted to live.

“Please call for help, save me!” Alexander begged, hearing someone’s footsteps outside the door. “They will hear you, tell them that I need help!”

Diana heard that someone was walking outside the door; footsteps were not often heard there. Only a small number of personnel and guards making the rounds. They walked around the house several times a day and passed her room too. This time it looked like there was someone from the guard.

She faced a difficult dilemma: to call a guard for Alexander’s help and save his pitiful skin, which meant prolonging the torment and signing a death sentence for herself and Oleg, or keep silent and let the owner die: an unthinkable crime for which a slave should be stoned or burned over a slow fire.

“Help.” She heard Alexander’s trembling and weakening voice. “Someone help me!”

After a couple of seconds, his voice died away. Diana tried to see him, but he was already out of her line of sight. She could only see a trail of blood, stretching from the bed and disappearing somewhere where he lay, her rightful lord and master, whom she must serve and give her miserable life, for his pleasure and salvation…

But she was in no hurry to help him. She could have called the guards, shouting that Alexander needed help, and the guard would have reacted, but she stubbornly remained silent, hoping that the owner would not wake up again and would quickly die from blood loss.NôvelDrama.Org holds this content.

A few minutes in silence seemed like an eternity to her. The knowledge of human anatomy acquired in that terrible place where she was ‘grown for sale’ was rather scarce. She knew how to provide first aid and knew that if blood was coming from the head, then a person could die quickly enough if not bandaged in time. This was the end of her knowledge.

The footsteps outside the door died down and the part of the house, which belonged only to Alexander, plunged into silence.

Alexander’s cell phone rang on the bed, cutting through the silence with a cheerful melody.

“Damn, cell phone!” Muttered the man, waking up. Diana heard some rustling, and after a few seconds she saw her master slowly crawl back to the bed.

He was pathetic and insignificant. His naked body was stained with blood and vomit. He was constantly nauseous and moaned terribly every time he had another attack.

Approaching the bed, he tried to rise again and he began to succeed. With a frightened and pale face, he grabbed the post and began to rise to find his phone. His legs parted and he desperately tried to get up and lean on them. In the pool of his feces, he slipped again and this time, he could no longer get up.

Until the evening, no one disturbed Alexander and he was already desperate that someone would help him.

Diana lay and looked at him. She could not believe that this evil and domineering man was lying on the floor now, as helpless as he wanted to see her all the time and could not get up. A puddle of urine was spreading under him, he lay and cried, but she felt absolutely nothing for him: no pity, no hatred, no love, no compassion. This was a completely different person, for the first time she saw him as such and seemed to be studying anew.

“I killed her…” Alexander said quietly, lying in a pool of blood, urine and feces, desperately looking directly into Diana’s eyes.

In them she no longer saw threat, anger, lust. Only an attempt to realize the approaching and imminent death and a fleeting faint spark of hope that maybe they can still save him.

“I killed her and buried her in the garden, where I forbade everyone to go… Roses bloom there. I planted them in honor of my beloved wife… I loved her… Truly loved her! She was good, only she could no longer satisfy me, but I needed more… all of you women are not perfect…” Alexander whispered and began to cry again.