by Naomi West
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I recoiled against the wall, wishing that I could melt right through it. Someone loomed over me and stood there for a moment. It made me nervous as hell because blinded as I was, I had no idea what they were planning to do. For all I knew, they could have been holding a machete in their hand. With one well-aimed swing… well, it would be off with my head.
I gulped. No. They wouldn’t do that. If they had wanted to kill me, they would have done it by now. Why drag me across the city to this building if their only intention was to get rid of me? As much as I hated to think about it, they had something specific in mind for me.
Abruptly, the blindfold was ripped off my face, taking a chunk of my hair along with it. I reached up with my hand and rubbed my scalp, but thankfully, my fingers didn’t come back sopping in blood or anything.
In front of me stood a skinny, scar-faced guy. It looked like someone had splashed acid on his face, and knowing the hot-tempered men that had escorted me, it wouldn’t have surprised me if that were truly the case.
“Up,” he commanded, his voice gruff and ragged like he had a hard time formulating his words.
When I failed to obey him as quickly as he wanted me to, he forced me to my feet and shoved me into line behind a small group of young women. How had I not noticed them before? Most of them were on the curvier side, sporting a similar body type as mine. Were they specifically targeting girls with double Ds or did we all just happen to have the shittiest luck?
Even though I was one of the few with a gag, no one dared to utter a single syllable. It was like everyone’s lips had been glued shut. I looked at the others, but they all avoided making direct eye contact like something horrible would happen to them if they even thought about doing such a thing.
Seconds stretched into an eternity as we stood in the middle of the room like a herd of cows ready for auction. No one moved a muscle. Fear thickened the air and made it hard to breathe.
What’s going to happen next? I asked myself, but I didn’t really want to know the answer because something told me I was not going to like it.
7
The scar-faced man rounded to the front of the line while another gangster took a position in the back. He held his gun like he was prepared to use it at any moment. Just the thought of that was enough to send a shiver down my spine. My feet felt like ice cubes, and I swear, my heart was loud enough for all to hear.
“Move it!”
The line had shuffled forward, and I had been too caught up in my own fear that I had failed to notice. The man with the gun jabbed me with it, and I squealed through my gag as I nearly jumped right out of my skin.
The corners of my eyes began to sting, and I realized that I had started to cry again. My body heaved with every sob. I was making a scene, but I couldn’t stop it. Reality was kicking in. This was really happening, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. These men could do whatever the fuck they wanted with me, and no one would ever know. I would become another statistic in the city’s cold case records.
“Are you thick or something?” came a growling voice at the back of my neck. “I said, move it!”
The gun jabbed into my backside, even harder this time. I stumbled forward and nearly fell but managed to right myself at the last moment. My cheeks burned with a deep redness as countless men looked my way and snickered. I didn’t care so much that they laughed; it was the fact that they were looking at me and my nakedness. I felt horribly exposed, and I wanted to use my hands to cover up some of my private parts, but I didn’t think they would appreciate my modesty all that much.
With these thoughts circling my mind, we were herded into a small, dark, and very smoky room. A few of us started to cough. I was one of them. The smoke tickled the back of my throat. It was thick—the kind of smoke you find when someone enjoys an expensive cigar.
Music was playing, but no one was dancing. Instead, there was a small crowd of men huddled around a raised platform on the opposite side of the room. Most of these men had big, fat cigars hanging from their lips, and they had no qualms about blowing their smoke at each other’s faces. Some cradled scotch glasses that sparkled against the dim lighting. What also sparkled was the copious amount of jewelry that they wore on their thick fingers.
There was no denying that these were men of means. Whatever they intended to do here, it would cost them a pretty penny.
But what will it cost you?
We continued towards the platform. It was pretty bare—just a simple, clean surface to stand on. It didn’t look like the kind of place for strippers, but it was the only explanation I could come up with. But there was a little problem with my logic—most of us were all already naked, so stripping was actually out of the question.
When we stopped, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other because I couldn’t bear to keep still. My near panicked state had me all wound up. I took in every sight, every sound, and prayed for a goddamn miracle, but if God existed, he didn’t bother to listen to me that night.
To my horror, the first girl was pushed towards the platform. She tripped on the small set of stairs, and one of the men took the opportunity to smack her ass. His blow was so forceful that she flew forward, nearly smashing her face against the top step. I flinched. My blood practically turned cold when she was hoisted onto the platform by her hair. The way the scar-faced manhandled her, it looked like he would rip the hair right out of her scalp.
Why are they doing this to us? I asked myself.
Because they are animals, answered the voice in my head. And they get a sick, sick thrill out of torturing women this way.
My eyes darted every which way trying to find some means of escape, but there wasn’t a single window to be seen, and all the exits were guarded by more Italian gangsters. Escaping now would not end well for me. My only hope was to play along, buy myself some time, and hope that the cops were on their way or something. Surely, Jenny had notified them by now. Or, she was asleep, and she hadn’t noticed I was missing yet.
Fuck.
There is no one coming to rescue you. You’re stuck here for God knows how long.
Fuck.
My attention was turned back to the stage when the first girl cried out and fell onto her knees. The little amount of makeup that she wore was smudged from all her crying, and it ran down her cheeks.
“We’ll start off the auction at $1,000.”
Auction? The word echoed through my head.
The men raised their hands, and the bids kept getting higher and higher. It was sick. These men were treating us like pieces of meat that could be bought at a butcher’s shop. They had absolutely no regard for our humanity. My stomach churned, and I was getting really damn close to spewing the contents of my late dinner all over the floor.
A girl at the middle of the line doubled over. The gangster with the gun was quick to drag her out of the room. She disappeared behind a set of thick double doors.
What is going to happen to her now? And will it better or worse than being sold at auction to horny men?
Two girls wearing kinky maid outfits seemed to materialize out of thin air. They dropped to their hands and knees and started to clean up the mess. Those who were not involved in the auction directed their attention at the newcomers. They wore nothing in terms of underwear, and that made them extremely accessible. Men groped and fondled their asses. Some even slipped their fingers between their intimate lips.
Wait… are they… wet? How on earth could they find this sexually stimulating?
One of the girls started to moan. It was insane. These girls had been brainwashed or something because to like this kind of treatment wasn’t normal. A part of me wanted to shove away the mob of men and protect them from wandering fingers, but I knew better than to get involved in something I could not control. To move from my spot was to get dragged from the room, and I did not want to take my chances with what lay waiting behind those doors.
“I’ve got $10,000!” said the
scar-faced man as he pointed to an individual wearing a black tuxedo. “Any others?”
“I want to see her tits!” called out a man standing towards the front. “For all I know, they could be damaged, and I’m not wasting my money on some defective bimbo.”
His words were so crude that they sliced right through me. How could anyone speak about another human being this way?
“Very well,” the scar-faced man answered with the utmost calmness. He held out his arm towards the pale-faced woman who was visibly shaking with her fear. “Take off your top.”
There was no room for argument in his voice, and yet the woman did the unthinkable; she shook her head ‘no’. There was a collective gasp from the rest of us as we anticipated a negative outcome for the girl. She only made matters worse for herself by crossing her arms over her chest in a defiant gesture.
Is this woman out of her mind? At this rate, she is gunning to get herself killed.
The scar-faced man moved with a quickness that I did not expect. In a flash, he had gone from his auctioneer’s podium to the girl’s left-hand side. His fingers tangled into her already messy hair. He jerked it backward until I feared her neck would snap in half. Unable to watch it, I closed my eyes, but a second later, I peeked out through my fingers and watched as he retrieved a bowie knife and ran it along the length of her thigh.
“Please!” she screamed.
It was the first word she had uttered while on stage.
Slap!
She blinked like she was seeing stars.
“Defiance is not tolerated,” he snapped as he tore through her top with a simple slice of his knife. It melted through the fabric like butter. That thing was sharp.
Goosebumps rippled along my skin as a draft rolled through the room, or maybe it was just my terror settling in.
Fuck. How the hell are you supposed to get out of this mess when all of these guys are goddamn lunatics?
Snap!
This time, it was her bra that came flying off. The rowdy men all grappled for it. I was sure someone was going to start throwing punches, but instead, the bids kept getting higher and higher, reaching the $25,000 mark in a matter of minutes.
The auctioneer threw down the girl, so she fell by the edge of the stage. Immediately, the savages descended upon her. They clawed at every inch of her body. I choked back a sob. I felt so bad for that girl, but I felt just as bad for myself because I knew the same was going to happen to me. I wanted to rip my hair out because there had to be something I could do. I couldn’t just stand here like a fucking sitting duck.
“$33,000!”
“Scarface” was pointing to the buyers with the tip of his blade. It almost looked like he was ready to throw it and watch it sink into someone’s skull. Knowing these fucks, that had probably happened in the past.
Please, don’t let it happen now, I said to myself. I didn’t want to be caked in a blood bath on top of everything else that was already happening.
“$40,000!”
How much are these guys willing to spend?
The poor girl was still being tortured. She kept crying out, but her pleas fell on deaf ears, muted by the whoop and holler of these excited men.
Animals. Fucking animals.
8
“$50,000.”
The bet came from a great hulking man that had kept to the back of the group. Everyone turned to look his way.
“I’ve got $50,000. Will anyone give me $51,000?” The scar-faced man was trying to raise the price even higher, but no one was chiming in.
The hulking individual had a smug look on his face as he folded his arms across his chest. They were as thick as tree trunks. While I felt sorry for the girl, I was really fucking relieved I wouldn’t be going home with that monster. That was the sort of guy that ended up ripping you in half.
“$50,000 going once…”
He maneuvered to the front. The group parted before him like the red sea. When he reached the girl, she was hysterical. It sounded like she was trying to say something through her sobs, but I couldn’t understand a single word she said.
“$50,000 going twice…”
She curled up into a ball. The bidder snickered.
“Sold!”
The auctioneer slammed a small hammer against his podium. Two mafia members grabbed her by the arms and escorted her to her new… owner. Yes. That was what they had said. My stomach twisted into a tight knot.
Do all of these men have sex dungeons hidden away in their basements?
The poor girl screamed as she was hoisted over his shoulder and carried out of the room like a sack of potatoes. I watched her go, and again, that feeling of nausea bubbled up my throat. I held it back, remembering the first girl who had the misfortune of throwing up.
Suddenly, before I could even absorb what was happening—what had just happened—I was shoved on stage.
“No!” I heard myself saying, but it was like my voice came at a distance. It wasn’t right. I wasn’t the next person in line, and yet, somehow, it was my turn?
Crack!
My lips opened in the shape of an ‘o’ like I was going to scream, but no sound emerged.
Crack!
I fell and landed on my hands and knees with both ass cheeks feeling like they were on fire. Somehow, I had the wherewithal to look behind my shoulder. Time seemed to slow as one of the gangsters held a goddamn whip in his hand. My eyes widened.
A whip? A fucking whip?
He pulled on the belt still wrapped around my neck. “She’s a screamer, folks.”
To prove his point, he snapped the whip at my tits. I screamed to the high heavens. The pain was sharp and extremely intense like he had taken a sword and sliced through both my mounds.
I fell onto my side, winded.
“Please…” I begged, but he continued to lick my sensitive skin with the kiss of leather.
When I tried to stop him with my hands, members of the crowd took hold of my wrists and pinned them down. Same deal with my ankles.
When will this torture end?
It was then that this animalistic rage came over me. I fought with this renewed strength, but it did absolutely nothing to free me from their grasp. They were all much too strong. As much as I hated to admit it—I was helpless.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The man holding the whip laughed like he had just lost his sanity. It pierced right through me and made me feel even smaller than I already was. Every inch of me was in pain, and it was only getting worse as these men tortured my body like fucking sex-starved savages.
Thankfully, he finally put the whip away and hoisted me back onto my feet. I was positioned in the middle of the stage. They had even painted a little ‘x’ onto the floor.
Helpful, I thought sarcastically.
“As you can see, folks, she’s got that fiery spirit. If you’re looking for a bitch to tame, then she’s the one.” He yanked on my leash and forced me onto my tippy toes because that was the only way I could breathe. Even then, it was like sucking in air through a straw.
I clawed at the belt, and that only seemed to excite the horny men that watched me. Fucking sickos. If I had my way, every last one of them would be rotting behind bars for the rest of their lives. Fuck the electric chair; I wanted them to suffer as they had made me suffer.
“We’ll start the bidding at $50,000,” said the skinny auctioneer.
Hands went up here and there as the number went higher and higher.
How can these men live with themselves knowing that they are buying a sex slave? Do they all lack a conscience?
“Give us a twirl! I want to see that ass of hers!”
Everything was happening so quickly that it was difficult to focus. One second I was gasping for air, and then the next, I was being bent over and made to wiggle my ass. My face was red hot with shame.
This is a nightmare. This is a nightmare. But no amount of repeating that thought made it any truer. I wasn’t waking up from this one.
&nb
sp; “Mmm, baby, you’re a fine piece of ass.”
“I’d rock my bed with you all night long.”
“Let’s see that ass clap.”
Then they turned me around so I could show off “the girls”. Quite a few men whistled at the sight of them. It was like they had never seen a pair of tits before. I swear, they were practically drooling. If I weren’t in such a precarious situation, I would think them all fucking pathetic.
“$100,000…” I heard the number as if from a distance.
$100,000? Who the hell would spend that much money to sleep with me? That was more money than I would make in five years and yet they seemed to fling it around like it was a fiver.
The bids continued.
Will this never end?
I swayed. The bright lights shining overhead were making me incredibly dizzy. The guy who had marked my body with his whip tightened his grip on my elbow.
“It’s almost over now,” he whispered under his breath.
I was definitely going to get sick this time around. By some miracle, though, I held it back.
Bang!
The final bid had been accepted.
How much have I gone for?
I had no fucking idea. This fucking auction shouldn’t even be a thing in the first place. And how in the ever-loving fuck had I managed to walk into this?
But, more importantly, how would I walk away?
9
This time, an even bigger and more massive hulk approached the stage. He looked like a pro wrestler who’d had more than his fair share of steroids that morning. There was no way in hell I was going home with that guy. He could probably kill me with his pinky finger if he really wanted to.
