Chapter 2
Trafficked
Kitlyn
Two icy hands slapped my face, pulling me from the blackness. Once my eyes focused, I realized I was still in the shitty, cold prison cell where I passed out.
It took me a couple of minutes to get my bearings.
I lay sprawled out on the hard concrete, completely naked, next to a small puddle of bile that came up from my stomach.
I was shivering, and my nerves were lit up.
Two large hands lifted me upright. My ears rang slightly as I took in my surroundings.
I had hoped that all of this was just a nightmare, but it wasn’t, and unfortunately, my friend and I were the main characters in this shitshow.
Becca was still on her knees, her hair wrapped in her handler's fist as he continued to pump into her mouth.
The proximity between me and them made it difficult not to watch the vile assault taking place before my eyes.
My handler nuzzled my neck, then pressed his lips to my ear. "It's so nice of you to join us again," he said, pointing to the contents of my stomach on the floor.
“I ought to make you lick that shit up.”
He laughed, rubbing his hips against my bare ass.
“You’re just lucky I’m not that rotten.”
His breath was hot and smelled of old, stale tobacco.
I wanted to barf again. The guy was disgusting.
His voice was deep and gruff as he ordered me to kneel.
With shaky legs, I did as I was told, thankful he didn't make me eat my own vomit.
I would have chosen a severe beating over something as gross as that.
The other one was panting while he continued brutalizing Becca. She was struggling to suck in oxygen as the pig repeatedly hit the back of her throat. I watched him clench his cheeks, then I looked away. I didn't want to witness his climax. He repulsed me.
His breathing was heavy, and he was grunting like a filthy savage. His voice made my skin crawl.
"Oh, that's a fucking good whore. I'm going to blow my load down your fucking throat."
Becca’s gurgling echoed in my ears as the monster continued violating her. Guilt gnawed at my insides. I felt as though I had put her in this hell. If I could have buried myself beneath a mountain of rock and disappeared, I would have.
My trainer pulled the chain, yanking my head back. He positioned my neck towards Becca and her abuser.
"Keep your eyes on them, Chica. I didn't say you could look away. I want you to see what a magnificent cocksucker your little friend is."
I was sick to my stomach all over again. Despite wanting no part of it, I couldn't turn away from the nightmare before me. My neck was immobilized by the leash wrapped tightly around the asshole's wrist.
These men didn't play games, and they certainly weren't obsessed with me like Atlas was, so I didn't dare push my luck. I knew when to keep quiet. My eyes were glued to the vulgar scene in front of me.
I was afraid to close them, fearful my bottom would be whipped bloody for not obeying. The other scumbag thrust into my friend's mouth one last time. A loud hiss escaped his lips.
"Ah, that's it, you dirty little slut. Make sure you swallow every bit. Don't spill a drop. If you do, I will bend you over and blister your ass."
I shuddered at his words. My mind tried to focus on the wall behind them, hoping to block out the entire act, but it was useless. I was forced to endure it.
My trainer gripped the leash tighter, making any movement impossible. Becca had tears running down her cheeks, but kept silent.
Her fists clenched at her sides as I watched her struggle to swallow the last of his nasty release.
She gagged as the disgusting stuff slid down her throat. Watching Beck being forced to submit to such a degrading act made me physically ill.
The guy's evil laugh echoed in the cell, making my heart race. I knew we were in for a hell of a ride with these two pieces of shit. He pulled out of Becca's mouth, using one hand to hold the leash and the other to zip up his jeans.
The creep holding my chain laughed, too.
"How was that blow job, Juan? Do you think she will do well when our guests arrive in a few weeks?"
My stomach couldn't handle much more of this. I was ready to vomit again. I swallowed multiple times to keep from puking my guts up. They were going to pass us around like free party favors at some shitty event they were throwing.
Juan smiled and nodded as he yanked on the chain, pulling Becca up to her feet. She almost fell over, but caught herself.
"Yeah, man. She didn't scrape my dick once with those big teeth. She will do fine. The most important thing to the customers is the holes they can slip their dicks in."
Both men started laughing as my stomach sank. They are filthy animals as far as I'm concerned.
My knees were hurting from kneeling on the cold cement. I prayed he would let me up soon. They ached like a bastard.
Becca was trembling and crying. It broke my heart to see her in this state. Maybe she was right. Getting involved with Atlas had gotten us into this mess.
I dismissed the thought because I really didn't know how we got here, but I'd like to find out who the hell the two masked assholes were that delivered us into this living hell.
They could have been from the clubs we hung out in, but I haven't been out in almost four months. I highly doubt one night of being shit-faced and dancing delivered us into this horror show. Juan's annoying voice jolted me back to reality.
"Julio, let's prepare these two before Hector tears us a new asshole."
My trainer laughed while yanking on the goddamn dog chain. His voice was shrill when he spoke.
"Get up on your feet, Chica. Time to clean up."
I glanced quickly towards Beck and Juan. Small whimpers escaped her lips, but there were no more tears. She looked shocked. He pulled the leash, forcing her to stare into his eyes.
A wicked grin spread across his greasy face.
"Strip, whore."
Becca cried again, tears flowing down her cheeks. Her handler looked at her impatiently.
"I don't have time for your fucking whining. Don't make me backhand you again. If my palm connects with your face one more time, I will split your lip open. Move it."
With shaky hands, Becca removed her clothes. First came the sweater. Then the bra, her jeans, and last, her thong. She stood in only her socks and winter boots.
Juan's voice rang through the cell.
"Everything comes off. It's time to get rid of your foul stench. Then both of you will get into the van, and we’ll be on our way to the big boss."
She obeyed his command, slipping off her boots and socks until she stood completely naked, shaking with fear.
Now, neither of us had a stitch of clothes on.
It's a good thing we were close and have been friends for years.
She and I have changed in front of one another plenty of times, so this was the least of our embarrassment.
Julio yanked on my chain, dragging me around the corner into another section of the building.
Becca and Juan followed close behind.
I almost had to jog to keep up with his steps. I was thankful when we finally entered the shower area. My legs were tired as hell. I wasn't sure they would hold me up much longer. I looked around the cruddy place.
It reminded me of a men’s locker room.
There were open stalls with no curtains or doors attached.
I immediately spotted the cameras along the ceiling.
Three of them overlooked the entire space. I'm pretty sure the asshole I met earlier was their leader, Hector, and he kept his eyes glued to them in this god-forsaken dump.
Forget about dignity.
There would be none of that around this shithole. I took in the unsanitary surroundings. Two long counters lined the walls, each with a single sink attached to it. There were no mirrors anywhere, just cracked tiles and grout that had turned black from years of neglect.
The stench of mildew hung in the air. I almost gagged. This place could use some serious bleach. To my surprise, two other women stood in one of the stalls, flanked by their handlers. They were being sprayed down like animals.
The stream came from the faucet through a long hose; there was no shower head. The girls weren't screaming or crying. They were silent, considering the intense water pressure. Both of them looked defeated.
Their eyes were empty and devoid of life. Whatever they had been through undoubtedly traumatized them.
Knowing that Becca and I were next in line to be tormented and tortured made my body shake.
Julio's evil laugh pinged my ears.
"Let's go, Chica, get your ass in."
He unhooked my leash and pushed me into the cold stall. The floor was still wet and felt slimy under my feet. The feeling grossed me out.
Two seconds later, Juan removed Becca's chain and shoved her beside me. At least we had a showerhead. They wouldn't be hosing us down like a couple of zoo animals.
Julio threw two washcloths and a couple of small pieces of soap at us. There was barely enough to suds up with.
Could they spare it?
"Wash good,” he said. Looking directly at me. “Especially your ass and cunt."
He pinned his stare on Becca.
"We'll inspect the two of you when you're finished. Use the soap in place of shampoo. We ran out. You have ten minutes to finish, or else."
He turned to talk to Juan, ignoring us while we washed at record speed. We only wet our heads because there wasn't enough soap to lather our hair with. I glanced at my friend. She looked like a pitiful mess.
Her face was red from crying, and there was a slight bruise on her cheek where Juan backhanded her.
"Beck, are you okay?" I whispered, hoping they wouldn't hear me over the running water.
She nodded, whispering back.
"I am okay, but I warned you about Atlas. I told you he was bad news. Do you believe me now, Kit?"
There was no concrete proof that this had happened because of my ties to him. I shrugged my shoulders and whispered for her ears only.