Amber's heart beat faster at the woman's advances. She'd never been treated so warmly before by someone in authority over her. "In that case," she said softly, "I might as well tell you everything. My whole story. As a girl, I was that uppity rich kid that everyone would inwardly hate but outwardly bow to. I came from a really prosperous family, and you could say I had it all. But when I became a teenager, the lifestyle stopped appealing to me. I wanted to experience the life I'd never lived before. I became attracted to ways of the street, and the whole "bad boy" appeal. When I was 16, I ran off with my boyfriend, a gangster from some hood, trying to once and for all leave my past behind me. For almost two years I was on the run with him, from city to city, backalley to alleyway. But... One day one of his drug deals went wrong. There was shooting and screaming and chaos, and everyone went in different directions and I fled for my life. I ran and never looked back. But in the morning I couldn't find him, or any of our friends. I don't know what happened to them, or where they went, but they left me behind. And I couldn't live on the street by my own. I tried, but obviously that didn't go so well, since I'm here. I got kidnapped by some men, who locked me in a room and kept me their prisoner. I was given food and water and all that, but I was very neglected by them, going days without seeing a soul. I was very alone, and abandoned, and at my worst place I'd ever been. Seems like a far leap from my birthplace, doesn't it? But anyway, they kept me for about two months before deciding to sell me. They found a slave-selling company, this one, and sold me for whatever they could get. I've only been here about a week. They say I've had several offers put out for me, that I'm a good buy. I don't know why. I don't feel like I'm anything special, but I'll go along with it. And that's how I ended up here, in this room, in this cellblock, with you, a potential buyer."
Telling the long story gave more time for the urge in Amber's bladder to grow stronger. Being held so tightly didn't help either. But not wanting to look weak or desperate, se resisted the temptation to hold herself or even cross her legs. The occasional squirm was not preventable though, and she could stop herself from the slightest wiggling. Her pussy ached, wanting both to be touched and to release the torrent of piss behind its gates, but Amber nobly resisted to give in.