Milf Porn Slave Vol. 1

By KD Lange

Once a wealthy, middle-aged housewife, Candance must now navigate her new life as Kandi Hart, a desperate bimbo selling herself to the porn industry. Follow Candace's journey into lustful prostitution as she entertains her new pimp. Read along as Candace struggles with her new identity, trying to maintain her dignity as she dances, sucks, and rides a dildo on her way to fame and fortune.

• Language: English
• Publisher: KD Lange
• Release date: Feb 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215703755

Book preview

MILF Porn Slave: vol. 1

Copyright 2023 KD Lange

Published by KD Lange at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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1

She doesn’t recognize the face in the mirror. Sure, ostensibly, it’s the same woman–the same dark brown hair, same hazel eyes, same high cheekbones and celestial nose–but as she moves her face, pokes at her cheeks with half-inch white nails, she cannot recognize the dolled-up whore staring back.

The bathroom is dark, with obsidian walls, a black marble sink, and a large vanity mirror framed in gold. A steam shower surrounded in elegant tinted glass sits to her rear. Candace leans over the sink so that her tits dangle and almost touch the gold faucet. She inspects her face, entranced by the mask of makeup.

Candace decides it’s not her face. The woman staring back at her from the mirror is not forty-two years old, mother of three, call center worker Candace Moorhart. No. It’s the visage of some patriarchal fantasy doll–an abomination of femininity, degraded and constructed to fit the male gaze. That’s Kandi’s face.

The idea lets her disassociate from the pit of humiliation she feels growing beneath her navel.

It’s not Candace’s brown hair that is slicked back and gelled into place with an unreasonable amount of hair spray. Nor are Candace’s eyes covered in thick layers of first black, then silver eyeshadow, with streaks of mascara framing her eyelids and flowing out towards her temples. It can’t possibly be Candace’s eyes that are so heavy she almost has to squint due to the enormous fake lashes. And certainly, a woman of Candace’s position would never be caught wearing gold hoop earrings that hang down to her shoulders. No, only a whore like Kandi would wear such absurd jewelry. Same with her plump lips. Those must be Kandi’s lips that the makeup artist painted pink and then put a white stripe down the middle.

It’s happening to Kandi. Not you, she whispers into the mirror.

The bathroom smells like the glittering body lotion Candace applied to her skin–passion fruit, vanilla, and rose extract. It’s so thick in her nostrils that she’s growing lightheaded. From beyond the bathroom door, she can hear the low bass of techno music.

She tilts her head back, closes her eyes, and swallows hard. Thick globs of spit glide down her throat. Candace hasn’t been able to eat all day, the nervous energy making her hands twitch. Around noon she’d gone to the gym just to get out of the house, but hadn’t been able to do anything but pace restlessly, growing bored of each exercise as she watched time click slowly towards eight.

Her fingers rise to her face, delicately touching the rhinestones which circle her eyes and decorate the side of her head near her hairline.