Chapter 11

The market’s chaos fades behind us as I yank your leash once more, the cum-crusted septum ring dragging your nose low, forcing your gaze to the sticky ground. Priya, my degraded 40-year-old wife, your body still quivers from the alley gangbang—pussy stuffed with stranger seed, tits bruised and clamped, latex slick with sweat and jizz. But Asiatique’s not enough; I crave more controlled depravity. ‘Time to whore you out properly, slut,’ I murmur, hailing a tuk-tuk that screeches to the curb. The driver leers at your exposed ass as you climb in, skirt hiked, juices smearing the seat. The ride blurs the neon lights of Bangkok, your heavy nostril rings clinking softly against the septum’s gold weight, each bump jolting pain through your face.

Nana Plaza looms ahead, but I steer us to the adjacent Nana Shopping Mall—less seedy than the go-go bars, but packed with night owls: expats hunting bargains, Thai locals browsing late, and the underbelly of pervs drawn to the area’s vibe. It’s after hours for most shops, but the central atrium buzzes with food courts and lingering crowds under harsh fluorescents. Perfect for pimping you like the pierced-up cumrag you are. I pay the driver with a wad of baht, then haul you out by the choker, the bells on your nipple clamps tinkling as your 38DDs bounce free.

Your face is a mess: dried cum flaking from the thick nostril hoops, the septum grommet swollen and raw from constant pulls, lips parted in exhausted pants. No cleanup for you—let the world see what a used hole you are. I march you through the mall’s glass doors, the AC blasting cold against your overheated skin, making your clamped nipples harden to peaks. Shoppers pause: a family averts eyes, but a cluster of middle-aged farangs in polo shirts stare openly, one adjusting his crotch as your micro-skirt flips, flashing your cum-dripping slit.

First, I need to advertise my goods. In the echoing atrium, near a fountain spraying mist, I stop and snap, ‘Strip the skirt off, Priya. Show these shoppers what a whore’s worth.’ Your hands tremble, but you obey, unzipping the latex and letting it pool at your boots—now fully bottomless, ass cheeks spread slightly, pussy lips puffy and leaking down your thighs. The septum sways as you stand there, vulnerable, the gold ring’s heft tilting your head submissively. ‘Spread your legs and finger that sloppy cunt. Announce you’re for sale.’

Tears well in your eyes, but your fingers plunge in, three at once, stirring the mixed loads inside you with wet squelches. ‘I’m Mistress’s whore ... big-titted milf with pierced nose ... available to fuck for a price.’ Voices hush around us; security lingers but doesn’t intervene—Nana’s no stranger to vice. A few men circle closer, wallets itching. I auction you off: ‘Fifty baht for a tit grope, hundred to finger her holes, two hundred to fuck her face right here.’ The first taker is a balding Brit, fumbling coins as he grabs your left breast, squeezing the heavy flesh until the bell jangles. His thumb twists the clamp, yanking a moan from you, your septum bumping your upper lip.