by Anthology
She kneels down at my feet, close enough I know she feels the heat on her naked back. When I look down at her again, I swear I see that flash in her eyes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s intrigued by me. Interesting.
Her small fingers work quickly at my brown leather belt, undoing the buckle, and pulling the ends loose. She makes quick work off the buttons on my jeans, spreading the thick denim open to expose my cock. Her thin form rises from sitting on her feet to her kneeling height, her tiny hand wrapping around my thick girth.
“Suck it, Brandi,” I taunt. “Before I make you.”
I’m desperate to feel her touch me, yet I can’t help acting like a fucking dick.
I feel a rush of power when her mouth forms a round “O” shape, and her tongue peeks out to wet her lips. She leans forward, and without hesitation, takes the head of my cock between her lips and swirls the tip with her tongue.
“Fuuuuck.”
I lean back against the wall for support as she expertly begins bobbing her head. My skin sweats and my breathing shallows. To my surprise, through the pleasure, I begin to feel fury. For losing myself in this place. For being no better than the bastards who rape the women every goddamned night.
My eyelids slam closed against the onslaught of emotions, and I tip my head back. I try to focus on the feel of her sucking my dick. The way her lips wrap tightly around my silky flesh. The way her tongue strokes along the underside.
When my rage feels under control, I open my eyes and look down. I’m met with the pure innocent look of her brown eyes gazing up at me, her mouth full with my cock. Goddamn.
I’m getting close. Her tight body steals my attention, and I reach down to pinch one of her rigid nipples.
She whimpers around me, and it’s my undoing.
At the last second, I reach down and pull myself from her mouth with a loud, wet pop, and stroke myself to completion all over her tits. I’ve marked her. Fuck that was stupid. What have I done?
“Shit,” I whisper while she looks at me in wide-eyed shock. “We have to get you cleaned up.”
As I reach down to help her up, I still at what she’s doing. She’s staring down at her chest while her index finger traces through the sticky mess I left on her body, almost as if she’s mesmerized by the sight. When she looks up at sees me staring, she visibly startles.
“Does this mean I’m yours? Are you going to take me home, Mr. Holt?” Her voice is so soft, so damn soft unlike I’ve heard her speak before. And when the words register, they infuriate me.
“Fuck. You know I can’t. Come,” I command, inflecting my voice with resolve. “We have to clean you up before the boss finds out. I shouldn’t have done that.”
She reluctantly stands and trails behind me as we make our way to the bathroom. “But I liked it,” she whispers.
My gut rolls. “You shouldn’t have. It can get us both fucking killed,” I spit angrily.
Even though I can’t see her, I feel her brush against me as she shrugs. “Maybe that’s for the best.”
Holt
LYING AWAKE IN my suite of the mansion, I can’t help but think about Brandi. We snuck off to the bathroom together, where I cleaned my cum off her body, and I escorted her back to the pen. I left her without another word, not even a glance.
I walked down the hall, away from the party, to an empty room. Threw my fucking fist into the wall so hard it gave way with a harsh crack. Then I did it again.
After that, I found Gutierrez and gave him a hefty stack of cash to keep others away from her. He was reluctant at first, but once I explained I wanted to fuck her six ways to Sunday, he gave me that slimy grin of his and was happy to oblige for an extra wad of cash.
What the fuck am I doing paying to keep a prostitute safe?
That sure as hell isn’t my job, or I wouldn’t have climbed the ranks as quickly as I have. My supervisor made it clear prior to the assignment that I would see and do many things I wouldn’t be proud of, but I was in no way allowed to interfere. After all, I went through rigorous testing to see if I could handle it. One look at those sad, cognac eyes, and I’m risking years of investigation to care for her. Pathetic.
Gutierrez has been hard to pin down, because he moves around a lot. He has unlimited resources. Every time the Feds have gotten close, he’s gone into hiding. Every trace of his operation disappears into thin air. The trail vanishes for a couple months until he reappears again.
It’s too soon to think about getting out of here. My work isn’t done. Gutierrez is a top player, but it’s not enough.
This is the first time an undercover has been inside his operation, and I need as much information as I can get. I need names of his contacts. I need to know who helps him stay in the dark. Who finds his buyers. We could shut down his business right now, but he’d never flip.
My instructions were very specific. Infiltrate the ranks and find out who’s supplying his buyers. Because if Gutierrez goes down before that, those guys are smoke. It’d take years to get close to catching them again.
That’s hundreds of more missing, sold, and violated girls. That’s another bastard like me worming his way in. That’s more guys like Darnell and Bobby and Micah sneaking around, sampling the drugs and the women behind the bosses back.
There’s enough of these sick fucks as it is, and I’m going to do everything in my power to take them all down at once and not screw this up.
I need to work to take my mind off this shit, and I have the perfect solution. There’s a new girl here tonight, and I’m going to give her the first taste of her new life. It’s the perfect way to reinforce I’m a fucking asshole and remind Brandi to stay away from me. Before she gets hurt.
I climb out of my king sized bed with expensive silk sheets and lavish feather duvet, and tug on the jeans I was wearing earlier. I prepare the things I’ll need for this little task and pocket the items.
Looking around the room padded with Gutierrez’s luxuries just makes me angrier. He believes in showing off his wealth, and as his top guy, I’m included in the recipients. This room, and everything in it, is all considered benefits on top of my regular pay. He has a mansion full of rooms but forces the girls to sleep in a cold, wet basement. That injustice is something I had to get over within my first few days here. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have made it as far as I have.
Locking up, I follow the hall to the stairs. The walls are modestly plain considering the amount of wealth in this place. A few framed landscapes are spaced along the bold red walls. Other than the lavish crown moldings, the rest is blank. The floors are gleaming hardwood with a white runner filling the center of the hall, continuing down the stairs to the first floor.
When I reach the landing, the delicious smell of the kitchens reminds me I haven’t eaten, but I keep going to my destination. The party is in full swing even though it’s the middle of the night, and they probably just served up another meal. They will continue well into tomorrow afternoon, when the buyers will head home with their new purchases in a crate.
Instead, I pass by the ballroom and head to the control room just off the basement stairs. The entire house is outfitted with cameras, which all feed back into this room. Ron, the head of security, monitors the screens for suspicious activity. Of course, he’s up enjoying the festivities, so another security member, Todd, is here in his place.
“Hey, what’s up, Holt?”
I nod. “Todd. Wondering if any of the girls have been released back downstairs yet.”
He looks at me with his slimy grin, several teeth missing and the rest horribly yellowed. He has greasy, coffee black hair slicked into a long ponytail, and his holey, baggy tee does nothing for his scrawny form. “I hear ya, I hear ya. A few of them have gone down. I think you’ll have good pickin’s.”
A guy like him would give his left nut to spend thirty minutes with one of those girls.
Instead of answering, I fix him with a glare that clearly says shut the fuck up, and he swiftly turns back t
o the bank of screens. After a few clicks, the underground room comes to life with about eight girls crammed onto one queen sized mattress.
“Looks like Star, Brandi, Coral, Peach, and Clarissa all huddled around the new girl. I can’t tell who else. Their backs are to the camera.”
My ears perk up at the mention of Brandi, but I don’t let it show. “Why isn’t the new girl upstairs?”
“Fuck if I know,” he replies. “Probably too scared or too weak for her first party.”
That sick feeling slithers through my gut. Not for the poor girl, although, that would probably be a good reason. No, I feel sick because of what I’m about to do. And I’m going to pretend to enjoy it.
“Do me a favor and don’t pay too much attention to those monitors, yeah? If I hear otherwise, I’ll beat your fuckin’ face in.”
A challenge flashes in his black eyes. He smartly backs down. “Sure Holt. Enjoy.”
I turn my back on the slimy bastard and descend into the basement. As I leave the main floor, the entire demeanor of the house transforms. From the warm luxuries upstairs, the basement is an icy, dark dungeon. Everything is cold, unfinished concrete. The ceiling is nothing but exposed pipes and insulation, cobwebs covering every surface. And the dark is chilling. Even for a tough bastard like myself, the lack of lighting is unnerving. One solitary bulb hangs in the center of the girls’ room, the switch controlled by security.
Without announcing myself, I enter the room. My presence a dark silhouette against the light from the stairs. The girls scramble around on the bed to huddle closer together while I take them all in. My eyes adjust to the dark rather quickly, and I find her. The reason for my depravity. The one who makes me prove to myself I am this wicked man. Goodness no longer resides within my marrow. If she dare questions me, I’m about to prove it once and for all.
I flicker my gaze past Brandi and lock onto the prey in her arms. This new girl is yet to discover her true fate, and I’m about to give her a taste. I tell myself it’s because I’m just as sick as the rest of the men here, but that’s not entirely true. I know I have the self-control to make it easier on her the first time in this hell.
“What are you all doing down here? It’s still early. Are none of you working?” My deep voice echoes throughout the barren room.
“We’ve been released to bathe.” One of the girls answers quietly.
“Then what the fuck are you doing?”
Brandi levels her calm gaze on me. “One of the girls was scared, Mr. Holt. We’re just trying to help.”
Of course she is. What girl wouldn’t be fucking terrified in this place? All the more reason I’m a goddamned monster.
“You dare to look at me? Do you need your ass beat?” I demand to know. She knows the rules. Does this girl have a death wish? Anybody else would whip her then rape her for daring to look at them.
Brandi immediately drops her eyes. “No, Mr. Holt. I’m sorry.”
“What’s your name?” I command the new girl, ignoring her apology.
“Her name is-ˮ Brandi starts. I level her with a stare she can’t see, but I’d bet she can feel.
“I wasn’t asking you. Girl, what’s your name?”
She raises her trembling, naked form from Brandi’s lap. “Chl-loe,” she cries.
I take a step closer. “When’d you get here, Chloe?”
“Today,” she stutters through her tears.
“You been fucked yet, Chloe?”
She inhales sharply, and her body shrinks back against Brandi. “No!” she cries. “You c-can’t! Please don’t touch me. Please,” she begs.
“All of you to the showers. Now!” I bark. “Except you.” I swing my gaze over to Brandi, who is attempting to extricate herself from a hysterical Chloe. “Don’t come out until I tell you to.”
The other six girls scamper off into the one room shower, and I wait until I hear the water turn on. Then I advance towards the two girls on the mattress, pulling a long, black scarf from my back pocket. “Hold her down,” I direct Brandi, and the small blonde girl in her arms goes rabid. Kicking, biting, screaming, she twists and turns her body trying to escape Brandi’s hold. She’s too strong, so I launch myself at her, straddling her legs and pinning her arms above her head.
“Hold the fuck still!”
A raw scream tears from her throat, and I cover her mouth roughly with my hand. Leaning close, I put my lips against the shell of her ear.
“The better you listen, the easier this is on you. You don’t want to piss me off. And if you piss off one of the others, you’ll end up with a bullet in your skull. Got it?” I hiss, holding my position until I feel her violently nodding her head.
“Good. Scream again, and what’s happening to you will be a hundred times worse.”
I look over her face, and my stomach churns. Her big brown eyes are shockingly wide, bloodshot, and soaked with tears. Her already pale skin has turned stark white against the dingy, stained mattress. I can’t. I just…can’t.
With the black scarf, I loop it around her small wrists, pulling tight enough she can’t escape, and I loop the remaining fabric around my own fist. Using my body weight to hold her down, I shift my hips until I’m straddling her waist; the entirety of my thighs aligned with her torso.
Holding her still, I lean down once more to speak directly in her ear.
“The minute you came with Ari, your life was over. There is no escape for you. Keep disobeying and you’ll wind up dead. You’ll be in this place until you become useless or he sells you. Don’t forget that. The boss owns you. You are his property. You’ll do everything we say.”
I stretch her arms out above her head and hold them still with my left forearm. My right hand plunges into my pocket, finding the syringe I stashed in there. I pull it out, uncap the needle with my teeth, and without warning, I push the needle into the exposed vein on her arm.
She begins to scream, but quickly tightens her lips against the sound.
“That’s just the first dose, princess. Now I know you’ll do everything we say.” I fluidly lift myself off her, using the hand holding the scarf to pull her into a seated position. “Now here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to join the other girls and head upstairs. You’re going to find a man, and you’re going to do whatever he tells you to do.”
“No,” she groans.
“Yes, you are.”
“Mr. Holt, let her rest. It’s her first day,” Brandi pleads.
“Rest isn’t going to save her. Tell me, Brandi. Is it any easier if she waits? Is it going to be better for her to put off the inevitable?”
She wraps her arms protectively around Chloe. “Why are you doing this, Mr. Holt?”
I turn towards the stairs. Bracing my arm on the doorframe, my head droops and I study my boots. “Because I’m a goddamned monster,” I reply, filled with shame inside. “Tell the others to get out and get upstairs.”
Brandi
“BECAUSE I’M A goddamned monster.”
Mr. Holt’s words echo throughout my mind long after he left. The other girls have come out of the showers and are busy drying their hair. But I’m stuck in the same position, my arms wrapped around Chloe, listening to his voice bouncing round in my skull.
What an apt description of a man who wants us to believe that’s what he is. I know I sound crazy, and maybe it’s this place, but he’s different from the others. I can’t put my finger on it, but he isn’t as mean, as terrible, as the other men here. Those men are true monsters, the type nightmares are made of. Mr. Holt is compassionate in his own way.
And he sure doesn’t look like the rest of them. The other men are greasy, barbaric looking humans, who don’t care about taking care of their appearances.
Not Mr. Holt.
We aren’t supposed to look at any of them, but sometimes I can’t help taking a peek. His hair is dark, nearly black but when the light catches it, I can see the russet tones. And his eyes are this platinum gray that almost looks molten. I
’ve never seen eyes that color before. I can tell he cares for his body by the broadness of his shoulders and the size of his frame beneath his tees and thermals. He’s always wearing fitted jeans and black combat boots that help raise his intimidation factor.
Besides the pale scar that runs beneath his left eye, from his nose to his hairline, he’d be flawlessly handsome.
Instead he’s been downgraded to ruggedly handsome.
I don’t know much about him since I haven’t been here long. What he just did to Chloe was terribly wrong, but it could have been worse. He’d asked her if she’d ever been fucked. I think he was planning on doing much more to her and couldn’t go through with it. But why? Why would someone as big and powerful as he is not follow through? If he’s such a monster, why back down from taking what he wanted?
And why did he look so ashamed?
I probably won’t live long enough to have the answers, but that doesn’t stop me from wondering. Mr. Holt is different in a way that draws me to him, and I should be terrified. He could snuff out my life in an instant, and yet, I’m intrigued.
I think it’s because I’ve come to terms with my fate. He said it to Chloe, and I heard the same speech two months ago when I arrived. We aren’t getting out of here with our free will. We’ll only leave in a box. Either we’ve been sold or killed. There’s no escape.
I’ve only seen one girl try. They forced us to watch while they loaded her up on enough heroin to overdose and gang raped her until she died.
My fate was signed and sealed that day. My already limited choices taken away. What’s the point of fighting if that’s the way I’m going to go? My brother wouldn’t be proud of me for that. My life wiped away in an instant. He’d want me to fight to stay alive, so that’s what I’m trying to do.
The sound of retching pulls me from my thoughts of death and the mysterious Mr. Holt, and I look down in time to see Chloe puke all over our feet. The smell of her vomit quickly overtakes the room, not that it smelled much better prior. I sigh.
“Come on, darling. We’ve got to get cleaned up.” I half steer, half drag her into the shower room and hit the lever to turn the water on.
