“Let’s go, Brandon,” Sebastian’s guy instructed me. “The party hasn’t even started yet, and you’ve already been requested.”
I knew better than to reply. I followed him into the party room and began to silently count my steps. I had memorized how many steps it would take me to arrive at certain areas in the room, so while I still was in control of my thoughts, I knew where I was at.
Nineteen… Twenty… Twenty-one… Twenty-two… Pool table.
The man tightly gripped my shoulders and pushed me down to my sore knees. I could tell that he had let go of my rope leash and tossed the length of it onto the pool table over my right shoulder. Startling me, he grabbed my wrists and yanked my arms upward. I could feel my heart pounding as cold metal cuffs closed around my wrists. There wasn’t much slack between the two pieces of cool metal, so my arms and hands were forced awkwardly closer together. The man that reeked heavily of whiskey positioned my hands just as he wanted, and I tried to keep my hands and fingers pliable for him. He parted my mangled fingers and then pressed them firmly against the fuzzy felt edge of the pool table that I’d grown to despise.
“Hold onto the edge,” he snapped, just as I felt the heavy wooden balls being racked up.
Fuck.
Seconds after the balls broke, several slammed into my fingers, crushing them against the felt edge. My natural reaction was to move my hands. The man beside me swiftly brought his knee up to my jaw, and then he repositioned my fingers. The fabric of his pants made the dry, irritated skin on my face itch.
“Move your hands or fingers, and I’ll fucking cut them off! Got it?”
“Yes,” I panted.
While my fingers continued to get pummeled, partygoers began to arrive. Soon, I knew Sebastian was near because I could smell his cigarettes. He bragged about me to whoever he was talking to. As he droned on and on, I could feel the drugs starting to take over and relax me.
Fuck!The urge to lift my hands off the edge of the pool table was almost too much for me to control. Even though I could feel the warmth of blood on one of my fingers near a fingernail, I remained still.
“Open, Brandon,” Sebastian demanded. “See, he’s very well trained. He was a feisty one, but as you can see, he listens well.”
I didn’t dare make him look like the asshole that he was, and I obeyed. The three men he was with took turns sticking their dicks in my mouth. They carried on a conversation as if I weren’t even there, which pissed me off. I was nothing more than trash to them, and not even worth them acting like they were enjoying it. The thought of biting one of them just as a way to remind them that I was a person had crossed my mind. However, I’d end up dead over it, and no one would even know that I had died.
I tried to remain still and to provide them some pleasure; otherwise, I’d be beaten for not trying. As I listened to Shannon and Char screaming in some corner of the place, the assholes were banging the back of my head into the mahogany framed pool table. Just like all the other partygoers before them, people screaming out in sheer agony didn’t faze them or dare distract them from getting their blow job from sex slaves.
Something that one of them said caught my attention immediately. They were talking about some business meetings next week, and when one of them said a specific date, my heart sank. I realized that my birthday had been two days ago.
I was nineteen, and I had been here just a few months shy of a year. Where had the year gone?
After the party, I knelt with my four fellow slaves on the damp cement in the back of the house. Sebastian’s men would hose us off from head to toe; every bloody nook and sore cranny. While I looked forward to getting the grime off of me, the harsh spray often hurt. All of us always had colorful bruises or open cuts, and the process of being cleaned was a painful one. Since there was the risk of us making noise, whenever we were taken outside to the backyard, we were gagged.
Though I was aware of them hosing off my balls and could hear them laughing, I was really bothered by the fact that I’d been here almost a year. I never thought that I’d be here this long. The others had told me I was never leaving, and I’d always assured them that they were wrong.
“Down!” one of Sebastian’s men hollered.
In unison we all moved as directed, each of the girls whimpering and crying around their gags. As I put my forehead down on the cracked cement and pulled my boney cheeks apart, I braced myself for the punishing spray of cold water. While Sebastian’s men went down the line, laughing as others cried out, I began to worry that maybe they had been right—I wasn’t going to ever leave.
Lost in worry and fear that not leaving could very well be my reality, I wasn’t fully paying attention and one of my hands slipped. I let go of one of my butt cheeks, which earned me more pain. One of the men stomped on my back and my side, while the one with the hose gave me a swift kick in my swollen balls as they dangled from behind. I toppled over, and even though I tried to scramble into position, the asshole with the hose still kicked me in the gut twice.
I tried to ignore the pain creeping into my empty stomach, but something happened in my body, and I felt like I was going to throw up. Closing my eyes, I prayed for the nausea to stop. To no avail, when I began convulsing, I frantically looked at the men, silently begging for mercy. As my mouth filled with bile and a semi-digested slice of bread that I’d had earlier, I panicked. I couldn’t get enough air through my nose and tried to swallow what I was throwing up. Desperate for air, I clawed at the strap that was snug against my face, holding the gag in my mouth.
“Shit, he’s going to suffocate,” one of them blurted.
Quickly my gag was removed, and I scrambled to my knees to double over and throw up without obstruction. Nearby, the men argued about kicking me in the stomach and how I was Sebastian’s favorite. That gave me next to no security.
Fuck, I was never going to leave.
When it seemed that the vomiting had stopped, I fell over onto the concrete, and for the first time since I’d been captive, I stared up at the starlit sky. Considering the fact that I probably was never getting out of here alive, I kind of wished that I had suffocated.
Two other men came outside, and I could hear them leading the others inside. Maybe they were going to kill me now. The men that remained outside left me alone for a few minutes. While I laid my shaky hands on my aching stomach, I tried to catch my ragged breath.
When I started to get up off the ground, the two men grabbed me by my wrists and pulled me. I didn’t have the energy to fight them and just prayed they’d leave me alone for the night. Hadn’t I given them enough today?
The two men flanked me as I traipsed inside.See ya later, fresh air.I trudged along the dank hallway that reeked of cigarettes, smoke, and spilled alcohol. When we reached the metal door to the room that I stayed in with the others, I stepped to the side so they could unlock it. As soon as there was enough space for me to slip inside, I did so without them telling me or shoving me. I had developed a horrible headache and needed to lay down in the quiet corner for a while.
Everyone looked at me when I entered, but no one moved. No one wanted to test the patience and kindness of Sebastian’s guys. Scott had his thin arms that were full of track marks around Char and Shannon’s shoulder as they sat on his blanket, while Alicia sat nearby on hers.
