by Leah Wilde
Before he could rise all the way, I coiled up and sprang forward one more time. Instead of arrowing straight towards him, though, I aimed just to the side. My right arm slid around his neck as my legs shot through behind the man’s torso. I grabbed my right wrist with my left hand and squeezed as tight as I possibly could. My forearm began to cut off his supply of oxygen.
He choked, spluttering, and threw a few desperate fists behind him, aiming for my face. I ducked one and another caught me flush in the chin, but I didn’t let go. I was like a bulldog with his jaw locked. He was going to have to kill me if he wanted me off of him.
The man flailed, heaving his bulk from side to side. Still, I kept the chokehold locked on strong. Around us, the men roared in approval. Pools of blood and sweat oozed around us as I held tight. I could feel the monster’s breath growing shallower. His heaving slowed until he could barely move. He collapsed forward, flipping me beneath him. Despite the massive weight crushing me, I held tight until I was sure he wasn’t moving any more. Only then did I let go and crawl out from beneath him.
I staggered to my feet and surveyed the crowd. They were like one creature with many heads, all bellowing in a testosterone-fueled rage. It was an almost religious fervor, but these people worshipped blood and violence. I had paid my penance. I had passed the test.
A pathway through the crowd opened like elevator doors to allow me through. I walked slowly. Pain radiated through my body. Stefano had not moved from where he stood when we first entered the room. I approached and stopped in front of him.
“Take me to the boss,” I said. My ribs throbbed. One might be broken, maybe two, but I ignored the pain. Bigger things were at stake.
He eyed me warily. He had probably thought I would die in there. Maybe that had been his plan all along. It didn’t matter, though. I’d won, and I’d skin the motherfucker right here if he didn’t do what he’d promised. “Now,” I added, “or you’ll regret it.” I didn’t need to say anything more.
“This way,” he said finally, beckoning for me to follow him. I picked up my shirt and shoes and limped slowly in the direction he’d gone.
# # #
The man on the other side of the table was immensely fat. He could barely squeeze his gut into the chair behind the desk. Gold rings glimmered on his sausage fingers. I entered the room and shut the door behind me. Stefano stood off to the side, not coming in much further. I looked at him, then turned to face the boss.
“You’re Emilio,” I said.
The man crossed his arms and looked at me. “Yeah, and who the fuck are you?” he spat.
“I’m Dominic.”
“Why are you here, Dominic?”
I shrugged. “I’m looking for work.”
Emilio raised an eyebrow. “Do you know what we do around here?” he asked me. He looked vaguely interested, like a shark who’s already eaten but senses blood in the water and can’t help but investigate.
“I have some idea.”
He rapped his rings on the top of the desk. “Sit down, Dominic,” he said.
“I’ll stand,” I replied.
His eyes flashed. “Fine, then. Suit yourself.”
We stared at each other for a moment. I knew he was testing me, sizing me up to see if he could spot any weaknesses. I didn’t move an inch.
“Let me ask you again,” Emilio said, “do you know what we do here?”
“Whatever it takes.”
“Whatever what takes?”
“Whatever it takes to make money.”
Emilio leaned back in his chair and nodded. “Exactly,” he said. “This is a money-making operation. If you do what you’re told and you do it well, there’s a limitless supply of cash for you. So tell me, Dominic, what do you do well?”
I looked him dead in the eye and said with a straight face, “Everything.” I meant it.
He stared at me for another long, tense pause. Then he relaxed backwards, flicked out a small switchblade knife, and started cleaning underneath his fingernails.
“Very well,” Emilio said. “Let’s see how true that is. Stefano, come here.” He waved Stefano towards the desk. “Give Dominic here your gun.”
Stefano balked. “What? Emilio, I mean, why…?” He barely had the words out of his mouth before Emilio had risen up, pinned him against the wall by his throat, and held the knife at the corner of his right eye.
“Did I tell you to ask questions?” he rumbled. “Huh? Did I?”
“No, no,” Stefano pleaded, “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” He sniffled hard. I did my best not to react to the sudden display of violence. I wondered how much of it was meant to intimidate me.
“That’s what I thought,” Emilio said, suddenly snapping back into a languid calm. He sheathed the knife and held out his hand. Stefano took a small pistol from his belt and laid it in Emilio’s open palm. Emilio turned and tossed it to me. I caught it deftly.
“Here’s an address,” he said, taking a sticky note from his desk and holding it out to me. “You’re gonna be working security for a little event we’re having. Go there, ask for the boss, and do whatever he tells you to do. Any questions?” He raised an eyebrow.
I had just one. “Who’s the boss?” I wanted to be sure.
Emilio smiled. “Antonio Capparelli.”
Chapter 14
Isabel
The cold of the basement began to seep into my bones. I was shivering and covered in goosebumps. I huddled into the tiniest ball I could, trying desperately to preserve what little warmth remained. It didn’t help much, though. The tips of my fingers had started to turn blue and I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering.
I didn’t dare look through the bars of the door again. I wanted so badly to see that girl again and find out what was happening, but I was terrified of drawing the attention of the guard. He’d taken a seat at the foot of the stairs and hadn’t moved in what felt like hours. He just smoked cigarette after cigarette, their pungent smell drifting down the cramped hall.
I managed to doze off, but it was a mistake. My dreams were jagged and horrifying, filled with blackish blood and hands with ragged stumps where their fingers should have been. I woke with a sudden start, sweaty in spite of the cold air.
The door at the top of the stairs banging open jolted me wide awake. I scrambled towards the iron bars to peek my head out and see what was going on. From my cell, I could just barely make out the bottom few stairs. The man standing guard had taken to his feet as a horde of others tromped down the staircase.
“It’s time,” said the deep voice of one man I could not see. “Get them.”
Men flooded the hallway, yanking open the doors of each of the cells. I could hear the screams of the other girls fill the air. It sounded like there were a dozen or more of us being held prisoner down here. A man in a navy suit yanked open my cell door and stepped towards me where I’d scooted back to the back wall. He was leering beneath a thin, wispy mustache. A savage hunger had taken over his face. He licked his lips and flexed his hands in the air.
“Let’s go, princess.” He giggled. “Your chariot awaits.”
I screamed, but it did no good. I was helpless.
The man grabbed a handful of my hair and dragged me kicking and screaming from the cell. He joined a line of other men, each holding a girl like me. They pulled us towards the stairs, where still more dark-haired men in suits were waiting to seize my ankles and carry me up the staircase towards the doorway looming at the top. I writhed hard, but there was never a chance of getting away.
“Be still, bitch!” cursed the man holding my hair as I knocked him back into the doorframe. He shook me once. The searing pain of hair tearing out of my scalp brought tears to my eyes. I stopped struggling.
They brought us to a big, bright room lined with rusty metal chairs. One by one, the pairs of men entered and threw each girl into the next chair in line. We all looked the same, beaten and terrified.
“Don’t fucking move,” ordered my captor as he
tossed me into the chair. My elbow slammed into a sharp corner and my whole arm immediately went numb. I doubled over, wincing and blinking tears to the floor.
When the last of the girls had been brought in, the door slammed shut, leaving us seated facing three of the men in suits.
“Stand up,” ordered the one in the middle. He was tall, with curly hair that refused to stay down. His broad shoulders pressed against the fabric of his pinstriped suit. No one moved. “I said, stand up!” he roared suddenly. We all leaped to our feet. I heard a few of the girls sobbing hysterically.
“Aw, shut the fuck up,” growled the man on the leader’s right. He was shorter but stockier, built like a bowling ball. I watched as he cracked his knuckles and sneered. The third man went to the far end of the line with a knife. He started to snip apart our bonds, one by one, moving down the row as the leader spoke.
“Listen up,” he said. “I’m only going to say this shit once. Ramon is cutting you free. If any of you try anything stupid, he’ll stab you. I’m not kidding. He’ll stab you in a fucking second. That clear?”
Everyone nodded furiously.
“Good,” he continued. “You’re all to be on your best behavior throughout the evening. Do what we say and you’ll live. It’s that simple.”
Ramon reached me and roughly jerked my hands toward him. He inserted the blade underneath the coiled rope and sliced upwards. The cord fell to the ground and he moved on without looking at me once. He untied the last of the girls to my left, and then rejoined the men in front of us.
“Now for the fun part,” said the leader, rubbing his hands together as a sly grin spread across his face. “All of you, take off your clothes.”
I heard a few girls balk. The grin dropped from the man’s face immediately when he saw that no one had even started to follow his instructions. His eyes became black glaciers, unmoving and enraged.
“Did you not hear what I just said?” he screamed. “Do it, now!”
I swallowed salty tears and started to take off my clothes. I peeled the dress over my head and stood shivering in my bra and panties. I saw other girls pausing like me when their outer layer had been removed.
“No, no,” the man tutted, shaking his head. “I meant all of them. Get naked. Now.” The last word came out with a violent menace.
I reached behind my back and unclasped my bra. It fell to the floor softly. I covered my bare breasts with one hand as I used the other to shimmy out of my underwear. It too puddled to the tile ground like a pale pink puddle. To my left and to my right, a dozen other girls did the same. It took only a minute before we were all naked. I could see nipples peaked against the cold. No one could seem to decide what parts of themselves they were most desperate to cover up against the eyes of the ogling men.
“Sit down,” the man said. This time, we all listened immediately. The metal was freezing cold on the backs of my naked thighs. I squeezed my legs together tight and folded forward over them, trying to work some feeling back into my frigid skin.
“Tie them up again,” he ordered. The two men flanking him split and moved behind us. They each started at one end of the line and moved towards where I sat in the center. When they arrived at each girl, they twisted her arms behind her back and lassoed them to the frame of the chair. Moments later, we were bound and restrained once again.
“Now, sit still and don’t say a word. We’ll come for you when we’re ready.” He smiled once more. “Get ready, pretties. The night has only just begun.” He stalked out, his two partners following him and sealing the door shut.
As soon as they had gone, the stifled wailing broke back out as the terrified girls lost what little self-control they had remaining. I stared at my knees and wondered why I couldn’t cry, too. It seemed like the logical thing to do. After all, I was helpless in every other way. I might as well cry. But the tears had just stopped. I felt hollow, like the well of my emotions had simply run dry.
We sat in silence for a long time, no one daring to talk or move. The only sounds were the muffled sobs of the few girls who continued to bawl.
I tilted my head to the right and took in the girl sitting next to me. She was a little thicker than me, with a full head of lush, dark hair that fell down to the small of her back. Her skin was rosy and smooth. I noticed the plump swells of her breasts and the dark circle of her nipples.
“Hey,” I said in a low voice after looking around to ensure that the door was still shut. She didn’t respond. I spoke up again. “Hey.”
She looked over, but wouldn’t meet my eyes. Instead, she stared at the small space between us. “We shouldn’t talk,” she whispered.
I ignored her concern. “What’s going on?” I asked.
She bit her lip as if hesitant to talk.
“C’mon,” I urged. “Do you know anything about this?”
“It’s an auction,” she said after a while. “They’re selling us.”
“To who?”
“To whoever wants to buy us.”
My heart dropped. Angela had been serious. Her words echoed in my head. Sell her to someone who will treat her like the piece of shit she is. It wasn’t just an idle threat. She was actually putting me on an auction block. I tried to swallow but my throat was too dry. God only knew what kind of horrible monsters bought another human for their use. And probably not even He knew what that use might be.
“What’s your name?” I asked softly.
The girl’s eyes were wet as she looked at me. Her lower lip quivered. “Caroline,” she murmured. “What’s yours?”
Before I could tell her, the door flew open and the stocky man barged in. A monstrous knife shined in his grip. He marched straight over to us. I thought for one horrifying moment that he was coming for me. Then his gaze shifted to Caroline.
“Can’t fucking listen, can you, stupid slut?” he asked. She started to tremble, unable to form words. The tears overflowed and started pouring down her cheeks in thick streams. Her breasts bounced with the racking sobs tearing through her body. “Just had to talk, didn’t you? Come on, now, up you go!” He reached the knife behind and in one deft twist, cut through the rope restraining her to the chair. He used the other hand to grab her hair and shove her to her knees.
“Open up wide, darling!” He reached down and popped the button on his pants. No one could look away as his gangly cock sprang free into the garishly lit room. Some cried harder. I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t. It was like watching a car crash.
Caroline was crying hysterically. The man lowered the blade to her throat while still keeping a solid grip on the roots of her hair. “Go on, then!” he ordered. “If you want to use that mouth so much, go ahead and use it.” When she still kept crying, he let go of her hand and slapped her hard across the face. Blood flew from her lip.
“I said suck!” he roared.
Caroline opened her mouth and let her tongue loll out. I felt dizzy and nauseous. She took his length into her mouth. The cock, as thick and short as the man himself, bulged against her chubby cheeks.
“Ahh, there you go,” he sighed. “Keep that mouth open.” Holding onto either side of her head, he started thrusting back and forth. Wet slurps began to sound throughout the room as he fucked her mouth with his prick. I finally found the strength to wrench my eyes from them, but I couldn’t get away from the sounds. Nasty choking noises and the man’s grunting echoed against the tile.
His grunting started to come in faster intervals until, with a protracted groan, he finished. I kept my eyes squeezed shut as he zippered his pants. Caroline’s low sobbing was the only thing I could hear anymore.
The door creaked open. I peeked to see who it was. It was the other man, Ramon, the one who’d cut us free. “What’s going on here?” he asked quietly.
The stocky guy chuckled. “One of the girls thought they’d start gossiping. So I reminded her how to follow orders. Maybe you should teach her friend the same.”
My blood turned cold. I looked up and saw tha
t he was pointing the knife at me. Ramon slid over silently to stand in front of me. His eyes were a dark green as he considered me. They raked over my body, eyeing me like a piece of meat. “Should I?” he murmured. I watched in horror as his hands started to reach for his belt. Behind him, Caroline lay whimpering on the floor, sticky white cum dribbling from her lips.
“Please…no…” I whispered. He ignored me, reaching forward instead to fondle my breast and pinch one nipple hard. I shied away. He clucked his tongue in irritation.