Chapter 13
Trafficked
Kitlyn
Time dragged like a ball and chain. Slowly.
It didn't matter whether we had been here for four weeks or a year.
Every day bled into the next, a fresh new hell served on a heaping platter of repeat.
Hector kept me close, never letting me out of his sight.
As time went on, only Juan took Becca to the red room to join Layla for her training sessions.
The devil beside me didn't accompany them as much as he did a few weeks ago.
I had an idea that the trainings were getting more intense for Becca, but I didn't want to ask her what she had gone through.
Besides, the cameras recorded every word we said.
Once in a while we slipped in a few whispers, but it wasn't often.
Neither of us wanted Hector to lock us in that bridle cage again, so we kept our thoughts to ourselves.
We remained naked, day in and day out. I wasn't even aware of my nudity anymore.
Layla ate dinner with us every night like she was part of the equation, always silent, always obedient.
Afterward, she followed Hector to bed like a remote-controlled robot, ready to be slapped, fucked, or degraded in whatever way he felt like.
She still cried when he got too rough, but she never disobeyed, or mouthed off.
Not once!
Even Becca was being trained to be submissive. She was slipping, becoming more compliant as time passed. She was not only physically beaten, but they were doing a job on her mentally as well.
I was no stranger to whips nor discipline. Atlas made sure of that. The beatings didn't rattle me the way they would someone untouched by that kind of pain. I knew how to take it, how to breathe through the sting and how to disassociate; but Becca, she was a wreck at first. Fragile and unprepared.
They broke her down slowly, and now? They have her exactly where they want her.
Obedient and gutted. A former shell of herself.
It killed me to see what they had done to my best friend, but there wasn't a thing I could do about it.
I just prayed we could hold on until we were rescued from this nightmare.
Hector hasn't violated me or Becca sexually yet, and I was thankful for that.
He screwed Layla daily. I was whipped occasionally, but that even stopped because the beatings didn't phase me the way he had hoped, so instead, he used other methods like hurting Becca to get me to comply.
His biggest enjoyment was backhanding me or humiliating me as much as he could when he felt the urge to.
It was early evening again. Dinner time.
My favorite part of the day, where I got to watch them dig into delicious dishes of grub while I drooled, wanting what they had.
Instead, I was given a steaming bowl of either beef broth or chicken broth and that damn lumpy oatmeal.
If the bastard was in a good mood, he would slip some vegetables in the broth.
My snacks for the past few weeks were raw carrots, celery and cucumbers. No sweets of any kind.
What a fucking sweetheart!!!
I still wasn't allowed to eat regular food that I would actually enjoy.
He continued punishing me from a month ago for running my mouth and defying him.
Hector was a motherfucker. He didn't allow us to get away with even the most minor infractions, and held a grudge for a long time.
I believe we paid our debt to him over a week ago, but he didn't even acknowledge the attempted escape anymore.
He just loved torturing all three of us. That was who he was.
When the guards returned with Becca and Layla back from the red room, Hector made them bend over their chairs in front of me. His voice was condescending.
"Look at how well your little friend is doing, princess."
Becca's ass was a mess, streaked with angry red welts against her pale skin. I barely recognized her anymore. The girl who used to light up a room now stared blankly at everyone, her expression vacant. There were no more tears, no resistance, just quiet compliance.
On the one hand, I was relieved. At the least, she wasn't terrified anymore. But that relief was poisoned by something far worse. If this lasted much longer, I was afraid she would snap. Lapse so far into the abyss, I would lose her forever.
Jesus, I hope she doesn't end up falling for this loser, but it was possible. Stockholm syndrome was real, and I believe Hector knew exactly how to exploit it.
Punishment and reward, control and surrender.
Almost identical to how Atlas handled me in the beginning, but there was one crucial difference.
Atlas never beat or hit me. His version of dominance was twisted of course, but it was done with care.
He always tended to me afterwards. His kink was all sexual. He got turned on by BDSM and dominance.
I didn't break into pieces and lose my spark from his conditioning. The methods used by the two men were completely different, like night and day.
Hector was someone else entirely.
It wasn't about the sex for him. He wanted ownership of us—to break the three of us into pieces and make us beg like dogs. He got off on pure fear, not pleasure. And if we ever pushed him too far, I had no doubt in my mind he'd kill us without blinking an eye.
Atlas would not.
Hector rubbed Becca's bottom, with a smug smile on his face. She didn't even flinch, just obeyed like a puppet on a string.
"See how well she's doing, princess? No more crybaby tears. Because she is passing her trainings like a trouper, she may eat all the food she wants, and Layla here will give her an orgasm after their shower."
He kissed the top of Becca's head like a proud lover.
"Sit. It's time to eat. You will have thirty minutes to enjoy this wonderful food. Both you and Layla can eat all you want. Dig in, girls."
His eyes settled on me. I wanted to smack the smirk right off his face! I wasn't completely broken yet.
"You, princess, can also eat as much broth and oatmeal as you desire. I don't want you to think I play favorites."
God, I wanted to fucking kill the bastard.
I hate his guts!!!!!!!!
Everyone was helping themselves, while Hector piled my plate with goddamn oatmeal, and set a bowl of steaming broth in front of me.
"Eat up, princess. Food isn't cheap!"
I clenched my fists in my lap, holding my tongue. I wasn't in the mood to have my head smashed in today.
The smell of turkey and potatoes assaulted my nose, making my mouth water. I slurped the same beef broth I'd been eating for the last month. I can't take anymore of the oatmeal. Just looking at the shit made me want to toss my cookies.
My stomach growled so loud, I was sure everyone at the table heard it. I watched my friend and Layla while they ate. I sat quietly next to Becca as she shoved a roll into her mouth, never meeting my eyes.
I knew she wasn't doing anything on purpose.
She was surviving, and I wasn't upset with her one bit.
He was beating her into submission and starving me so I'd weaken and not challenge him.
I knew exactly what the ass-hole was doing.
He knew I could take the beatings, so he withheld food from me to turn me into a brittle shell.
I looked at all three of them eating their delicious dinner, while my cold oatmeal remained on the plate. Hector didn't so much as glance at me while he stuffed his mouth with a good helping of turkey, potatoes and corn, adding a deep groan for special effect; knowing it would upset me.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, along with my pride. I needed to eat. My body was fucking desperate for food, and this bastard wouldn't relent and feed me anything solid and nutritious. I couldn't stand it any longer.
"Hector." My voice was soft and cracked slightly. "Please, I am starving. Can I have some real food tonight? Just a small plate of turkey, potatoes and a roll?"
He paused mid-chew. His gaze slowly drifted toward me. That cold amusement already danced around his eyes. A shiver went down my spine. I was nervous, but also in agony from being famished to the point of almost losing my mind.
"You hungry, princess?" He said, his voice laced with mock sympathy.
"Well, perhaps if you behaved like your little friend over there"— he tilted his head toward Becca, who was silently cutting her food, her eyes lowered to the floor— "you'd earn yourself a plate."
"But I've been good," I whispered.
"I just want something solid. Just a little…pleeease."
He wiped his mouth with a napkin, tossing it carelessly on the table. Then he pushed his chair back, his legs spreading slightly. My heart sank.
"On your knees, princess." He said, patting his thigh.
"Show us how well you can behave. Come earn your supper like the good girl I know you can be."
I hesitated for a second, but the sound of my stomach growling again forced me forward.
My knees slid across the cold tile floor until I was between his legs.
Becca and Layla kept their eyes on their plates, not making a sound.
This was beyond humiliating, but I need sustenance.
I detested this. I hated how easy it was becoming for me to crawl.
His zipper came down slowly, and his cock sprang free, already half-erect. "Make it good, princess," he said, leaning back in his chair. "You want turkey and potatoes, don't you?"
I gripped his thigh, forcing down the bile that threatened to come up. I used every trick I learned from Atlas in the beginning, remembering how much I hated him when he degraded me, so I would just submit to get it over with as quickly as possible. He groaned as I took him into my mouth.
I worked my tongue along his shaft, licking and sucking the length of him. "Ahhh, that's it, princess, get me off like a good little slut. Your delicious dinner is waiting."