THE HORROR ON RED BOULEVARD - STEPHEN D. ROGERS
He sat on the edge of the bed, tugging at his left shoe. "Since someone who hunts is a hunter, I guess someone who whores is a whorer."
"Whatever you say, sweetie." Gladys knelt behind him, placed her left hand on his shoulder.
His shoe dropped. "I seem to remember reading that prostitution is less about sex than power."
Gladys knocked him unconscious with the heavy base of the table lamp. "You got that right, brother."
Laying him flat on the bed, Gladys handcuffed his arms and legs to the corner posts, stuffing an old pair of panties in his mouth. Only then did she open the door to the rest of the girls.
There were five of them, whores like her. Every so often they just needed to freak a little. The release was the only way they could remain sane.
Except for the sounds, the room was silent.
BIO: Over five hundred of Stephen's stories and poems have appeared in more than two hundred publications. His website, www.stephendrogers.com, includes a list of new and upcoming titles as well as other timely information.