Mouse Trapped

by Manda Mellett

  “I haven’t quite decided yet what to do with you. I could use more, shall we say, personal methods to break you? Hmm. Are you worth the bother, I wonder? Maybe if I leave you here, you’ll be begging to come to me. We’ll see. Just understand, your father has washed his hands of you. Your fate is mine to determine. There’s no one here you can appeal to.”

  I didn’t turn to look at him, didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear. When cooped up in that detention centre I thought I had known what hopelessness was, but at least there I had the hope that eventually I’d be free, even if it wasn’t in a country of my choice. Now any chance of a future where I’m able to live a life of my choice is fast disappearing like light down a tunnel.

  He’d walked away to the symphony of cries and wailing around me, pleas that rang out unanswered. I’d always known my father was evil. It was at that point I realised how malevolent and vengeful he really is. And I’ve put Drew in his sights. How could I have been so damn stupid? My only excuse that I’ve never come up against men like this before, so manipulative, so powerful. So immoral.

  A week or so I’ve been in this filthy place. I’d found it difficult to eat in my father’s presence, but at least what was put in front of me was gourmet food. Here it’s barely edible, just a substance to keep the women, of whom I’m now one of their number, alive, and just barely.

  There’s a number of different languages spoken, some speak English. There’s another American woman, who was snatched off the street. She’s in the cell a few doors down from me, our only communication is a few sentences we can call out. I’d spoken to her when I heard her crying fruitlessly for help in English. She’d come to Colombia backpacking, wanting to explore this beautiful country, believing the worst of its troubles behind it now. She found she was mistaken when she’d been seized. She didn’t think it was by El Procurador’s men, as she didn’t even need the Spanish she could speak, money changing hands showed she’d been quickly sold on. That’s when she ended up here.

  There’s a regular change in women. My English-speaking friend went after a few days. Some women stayed a night, some had been here longer than I.

  Fear taints the atmosphere, horror at the current situation, terror at what may lie ahead. It’s hard not to be affected. While I may not understand all the languages, sounds of distress are universal. I try to stay strong. Try to keep the fight within me. But it’s hard.

  Occasionally men come into the cells and rape the women. I tried to turn away when one used a pretty young girl next door. He was hurting her, hammering into her tiny body. Her screams annoyed him, so he clamped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes had turned my way, full of pleading. Tears rolled down my face, I was unable to help, my own cries begging him to stop were ineffectual. Her fear, her pain, her utter desolation when he at last got off. Presumably because I’m my father’s daughter, they leave me alone. For now.

  The next day they come for me. I don’t know what to expect, don’t like to think what might lie ahead as an armed guard waves me out and another steps into line behind me. I’m taken back to the room I walked through before on my way to the corridor of locked up women.

  Miguel’s standing in the middle of the room, he smiles when he sees me. “Ah, Señorita De Souza. Mariana. I’m so pleased to see you again.”

  I deign not to answer. If I’d ever wanted to be polite, my manners have been knocked out of me by the way I’ve been treated.

  His nose wrinkles. “A shower first, I think. And a change of clothes. Then we’ll talk.” He nods to my guards. One takes my arm and leads me off to a short hallway. There’s a bathroom without a lock on it. Set out inside is a towel, shampoo and soap. A pile of fresh clothing is laid on a chair.

  I could refuse. Where would that get me? Would they force me into the shower themselves? The idea of clean water, clean clothes is sufficient to tempt me. With one eye on the lockless door, I strip quickly and jump under the water, relishing the feeling of being able to get clean again. I waste no time, I soon have my hair and body washed and dried, though my hair is left damp and hanging.

  There’s a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, fairly plain, but fresh. I dress quickly, still worrying about being disturbed. What happens now?

  “Ah, that’s better.” Miguel nods approvingly as I walk back to join him. “Now you’re going to find out how brilliant your father is. How he gets double profits on the slaves he sells.”

  Am I to be sold as a slave?

  “You’re lucky. You’ll get to go back to the US,” he continues.

  For a moment, my heart leaps. I’m going home? Then doubt fills me. How could I go back if my father’s bringing Drew here? I could never desert him. But he’s an American citizen. Maybe I could get the authorities involved. Tse could help me… Then I think about myself. It’s a trick, it has to be. They wouldn’t be letting me go that easily.

  Seeing the doubt on my face, he smiles in what is probably supposed to be a reassuring way. “Yes, back to the United States, Mariana. I’ll be accompanying you to the border.”

  I’m suspicious. “How will I cross it?”

  He laughs. “Oh, we’ve got a route in, don’t worry your pretty little head about that, querida. We’ll get you in.”

  “Why are you letting me go home?” There’s something decidedly wrong with this scenario.

  Now he shrugs. “Your father and you haven’t exactly got on. You’ve been corrupted by the Americans, not good material for a Colombian wife. He’ll have his son, and be rid of a troublesome daughter.”

  It still doesn’t add up. But I can fight for Drew. Tse will fight with me. While I want to stay here and be with my brother, we’d both end up trapped. If they’re taking me back to the States, perhaps that’s for the best. I know I don’t have a choice, so rather than protesting, maybe it’s best to go along with it.

  “When are we going?” I don’t want to stay in Colombia any longer than I have to.

  “Soon. Very soon.” His face grows serious as he nods at a man off to one side. A man I can’t see clearly, though he seems to be carrying something in his hands. “We just need you to do something for us first.”

  My misgivings grow. What could they possibly want from me? “If you’re bringing Drew here, I want to stay and see him.” It dawns on me I’ve been imprisoned a week, and a lot might have happened in that time. “Is he already here? Can I talk to him?”

  “Whether he is or not is nothing to do with you.”

  Perhaps they haven’t got to him. Maybe if I go back, I can find him and stop him. Get Tse to protect him…

  The man behind me comes into sight, he’s carrying a tub in his hands. Miguel takes it from him and brings it over. “All you’ve got to do is swallow these, querida. Then I’ll take you over the border.”

  As I stare at the tub full of latex bundles, I might not have come across them before, but I read the news enough to know exactly what they are. I shudder, my eyes open wide, my body starts to sweat. “No.” There’s no way on earth I’ll be helping them smuggle drugs over the border.

  Miguel waves the box in front of me. “A little uncomfortable, I admit. But it will soon be over, and you’ll be free. Well, as long as you stay away from immigration, and don’t bring any attention to us if we’re stopped.”

  “I won’t smuggle drugs for you.”

  “Then you won’t be going home,” he threatens.

  “No.” I won’t do this. Whatever that stuff is, there are enough drug problems in the US without me adding to it. However much he emphasises the incentive. Trying to summon up every argument, I suggest, “One of them might burst…”

  “It might,” he says, unsympathetically. “Which would be a shame, but we’d still have the rest.”

  “I could die.” I’m feeling nauseous at just the thought.

  “You could,” he replies conversationally. “But we’d still have the drugs.”

  “Does my father know?” I know he’s a monster, I know we’d never have a fathe
r/daughter relationship. But still…

  “It was his idea.” Miguel’s dismissiveness takes my last hope away.

  “No,” I say, again.

  But they’re ready for that. Miguel moves quickly, his hands on my face, his thumbs either side of my jaw, stopping me from closing my mouth. The other man steps forward, placing a contraption in between my teeth, turning a screw to force my mouth wider. Miguel steps back, and takes something off a table.

  “This will make it easier.” He squirts a liquid down the back of my throat which I can immediately feel going numb. “It’s an anaesthetic, and there’s oil in it. It will be easier for you to swallow these down.”

  I try to shake my head, but I can’t spit, can’t do anything. Miguel stands and watches, his hand goes to his crotch. “You know, looking like that? It’s hard for me to resist putting my cock in there.”

  If it was possible to be more horrified, his threat would do it.

  “Tell you what, I’ll remove the dental gag so you can swallow. But if you refuse, it’s going back on. I, and the guards, will all mouth fuck you.”

  “Why stop there?” the other man mumbles, his mouth opening to show what teeth he has are yellowed and rotten. I keep my eyes above his groin, not wanting to imagine what diseases he harbours down there.

  “You going to be a good girl?” Miguel asks, casually. His expectant expression shows he really doesn’t mind one way or the other.

  “Nice tits.” His companion palms my breast, squeezing it so tightly it brings tears to my eyes. “Shame to take the gag off and waste it.”

  “Last chance.” Miguel’s hands start going to his fly. “Querida, I really don’t mind how we do it. There are benefits for me if you continue to refuse.”

  A glance shows the other man already has his dick in his hands. He’s looking eager. I can’t, I just can’t. They’ll find some way to force me.

  “How many men using that mouth will it take to convince you, querida? I’ve got a compound full of volunteers…”

  I don’t know what sign to give. A nod? Would that encourage him or correctly inform him I’ll swallow the damn things rather than be molested? A shake? Would he think I meant I was refusing to do what he wants? In the end, I settle for as loud a sound as I can make with my mouth open. “Ahhhh.”

  His hand settles on my head and ruffles my hair as he unscrews the gag. “Good girl. But a little disappointing.”

  There must be a hundred filled condoms in that tub. Miguel first drops them into a bucket of water, picking up the ones that float. A couple have sunk. “See,” he murmurs, “how good I am to you. If they don’t float, they’re not properly packed.”

  I’m blown away by his concern.

  As he approaches me with the first one in his hands, I panic, knowing I can’t do this. It’s too big to swallow… I have trouble even getting tablets down. His fingers push it in, I gag, spitting it out. Ready for me he catches it, pushes it back, this time forcing my mouth closed and pinching my nose at the same time. My cheeks burn as I struggle to breathe. I have to swallow. I can’t.

  “Swallow, puta. Or I’ll give you something else to swallow. Something that might slip down more easily.”

  My nostrils try to suck in air. I don’t want to, but his threat has me trying to work my thankfully numb throat. The oil probably does smooth the way, at last the filled latex has gone down.

  Miguel grins. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  I turn away, gagging, feeling a lump in my chest.

  “Don’t you dare throw up, puta.” His tone is warning. After no more than a second, his hand’s there with the next one.

  I think I’m going slightly insane. Each one I swallow gets easier, my brain sees each as another nail in my coffin. I’m filled with fear, in my mind I feel them burst and start leaking, poison leaching out into my veins. One by one he passes them to me. After I’ve had as many as I think I can possibly take, I squeeze my lips together shaking my head.

  “Oh, we’re only half way through. Open up.” His hand comes menacingly close to my jaw.

  With a whimper, I part my mouth once again. America. I’m going back to America. I’ll find Tse, hopefully Drew… I can do this.

  As if he can read my mind, his hand hovers before putting the next packet of drugs in my mouth. “Of course, you won’t be going back to your old life. You, my dear Mariana, will be sold as a slave. Someone as pretty as you will attract good money, your virginity will mean top dollar for us. You see what I told you? Double profits. First from the drugs, then from selling you. Excellent plan, you have to agree.” His chest puffs in conceit.

  My plans to save Drew shatter. Me? A slave? I stare, open mouthed. Trying to envisage such a future. Realising the reference to my looks and my untouched status means he’s omitted a word. Sex. Sex slave. I can’t even imagine what depravities a woman whose man feels he owns her could put her through. Hell, sex. I’ve seen enough of that these past few days. The face of the woman in the cell next to me will always haunt me, and the knowledge that these men see nothing wrong in taking and using women as they want.

  His lips are still curved; he gives me time to process what’s going through my head. What the hell can I do? I’ve got a stomach full of drugs. For a moment, I hope I really can feel one bursting. The future he’s painting is beyond bleak. I’d rather die. You’ll be back in the US. I try to think positively to stop myself just giving up. There I might have a chance of escape.

  “Open now. I’ve been counting. Sixty down, sixty to go. Come on, I haven’t got all day. Our transport is waiting.”

  “No. No more.” If at the end of all this I’ll be facing a fate worse than death, I’ll refuse to cooperate anymore.

  “Yes. You will. We’ll get a tidy sum for you. You told your father you were untouched. First the money from the drugs, then the fee for a virgin slave. I was never going to rape you. Your purity has far greater value. But I could still mouth fuck you. Don’t think I won’t.”

  My stomach feels too full. The anaesthetic is wearing off and my throat feels bruised and sore. My body drips with sweat, my head pounds, and I’m trembling. “Please, no…” I start to beg. “No more. I can’t…”

  “You really are a stuck up puta, aren’t you?” Miguel looks amused as he exchanges a glance with the other man. “You think you’ve got a choice?” Then he snaps, “Hold her.”

  Chapter 32

  Mouse

  My hair once more tied back in a ponytail held by my usual leather thong, my skin clean of paint and blood, I join my brothers around the table.

  “Ch…” Shooter opens his mouth.

  I point my index finger at him. “You can stop that shit right there.”

  A cough brings my attention to the prez who seems to be trying to smother a laugh. I glare at him, but it does no good. “Think you picked up a new handle.” He chuckles.

  “Fuck me, Chief. You scared the shit out of me.” Road’s sitting back, his arms folded. “Channelled your inner Indian, I see.”

  “Native American,” I snarl. Now I’m pointing at him. “I might have developed a fondness for scalping. I suggest you don’t push me.”

  “Can I see it?” Blade asks. Holding out his hand. I know what he’s asking for. Taking my now cleaned knife out of my belt, I slide it across the table. “Nice.” He feels the edge. “This a real scalping knife?”

  “All purpose,” I explain. “My people made such weapons out of whatever they could find that they could sharpen. Flint works well.”

  “Old?”

  “The blade, yes. A few hundred years. Probably had a new handle or two in that time.”

  “Okay. Now we’ve discussed scalpin’ implements, can we get down to business?” Yeah, that’s the prez. He will allow us a few minutes, but then remind us why we’re there. “You got any more you want to say, or can I call in Devil?”

  “Yeah.” Slick raises his hand, “Paladin and I have had a discussion with Ella and Jayden.” He breaks off,
his head shaking as if he hardly wants to get his next words out. “They reluctantly agreed it’s safer for Jayden to leave.”

  I notice Paladin is nodding. I’m surprised he doesn’t look as ecstatic as I’d expected him to. While here, he had to wait until Jayden was eighteen, but the age of consent is a year earlier in Colorado. Got to admire the kid for biding his time and waiting. I expect there were a few bets placed that he’d break and move on to someone else. There’s no doubt in my mind that he hasn’t.

  “I’ll speak to Hellfire,” Drummer starts with a nod. “Can’t argue with the decision you’ve come to.”

  “Hey, does that mean Paladin can claim her in a few months?” Marvel looks like he’s going to fist bump the man beside him, but Paladin ignores him, his eyes shoot to Slick’s instead.

  Drummer is the one who answers. “The fuckin’ age of consent isn’t why she’s going to Colorado. Hellfire and his wife have a family house. Think their kids have grown and left home now, but they’ll know what a teenager needs. Paladin will bunk down in their clubhouse.” His glare stops any further comment like Marvel’s being raised. “Red’s got a rep as a manwhore. Lost is still finding his way. Snatcher, well, is Snatcher. Hellfire’s the best to give her a new home. I, for one, am grateful to Paladin.” After the prez gives his quick assessment of the presidents of the other chapters, a summation no one would be able to object to, his focus is on the young member. “Will be sorry to lose you, Brother. There’ll always be a seat for you around the table.”

  Again Slick raises his hand. “It’s not going to be easy for Jayden. Having Paladin with her, as her friend? Well, that might help her adjust. Paladin knows my feelin’s.”

  He doesn’t have to say more. I reckon he’s put the fear of God in the lad if he oversteps.

  “Okay, we sort out the official transfer details later. Don’t like losing a member, but we’ve been prepared for this. Now, let’s get Devil in here and back to Mouse’s problem. And remember. Devil doesn’t need details on how we’ve learned what we have.”