Quinn
I had one last question for Caroline before we left the warmth and comfort of the coffee shop. “Why are you doing this? You can’t stand me.”
“Tsk, Quinn,” she clucked her tongue at me. “We were stupid kids. It’s in the past. I'm trying to be a better person. We all need a helping hand from time to time. There is no shame in it.” For once, Caroline looked and sounded sincere,
I was a downright idiot for believing her.
Caroline took me to a part of the city I had never seen before. I didn’t ever dare come this way. The women at the shelter always talked about it and warned others to avoid uptown. It was for the filthy rich, and we were not welcome here. They didn’t want their perfect little illusions shattered by the image of dirty, homeless people littering their streets.
Not that I blamed them. I used to be one of them, and I was fairly certain I once held the same view of the world these people held.
Caroline drove around the back of what she called, ‘Club Ninety-Nine’ but it looked more like an upmarket, five star hotel to me.
She parked her car in the basement, completely hidden from view. There were two lifts against the far wall – a service elevator and a guest elevator. She took me straight to the service elevator, unlocking it by punching a pin into the keypad next to it.
There were no numbers inside the lift that would indicate which floor we went to. Caroline entered the same number into the keypad on this side of the elevator and the doors slid shut. My stomach flipped over when we started to move, coming to an abrupt and sudden stop mere seconds later.
The front might have looked classy and inviting, but the back was a different matter. Here it was dirty; it stank like the homeless shelter, desperation, and broken dreams.
The perfect place for someone like me then.
A woman dressed in a tight mini skirt and only a studded leather bra looked up when the lift pinged open, her face pulled into a puzzled frown. “And this?” she asked, her eye pinched in an expression of sheer disapproval.
“Get Gary,” Caroline answered. “A possible late entry.”
The woman shrugged and disappeared behind a red curtain, returning a minute later with a tall, greasy man. His thinning hair was slicked back with too much gel, a cigar dangled from the corner of his mouth, and his striped shirt was open all the way down to his bellybutton, revealing his hairy chest and burgeoning beer gut.
He wore several big, heavy golden chains around his neck and every finger, apart from his thumbs, were decorated with bulky gold rings.
He might have been handsome once, but his glory days came and went. Loose skin flapped around his mouth, giving him a bulldog appearance, his teeth were yellowing, and he kept wiping at the thin sheen of sweat that broke out on his forehead. “What do we have here? A little cherub to play with?” he asked.
“Not for you,” Caroline replied and gave him a sly wink.
“Through here,” Gary said and held the curtain open.
My stomach twisted in knots and my heart started to hammer in my chest. I glanced at Caroline, but she suddenly didn’t have a thing to say or a look to give. She already turned her back on me and stood off to the side with the other woman, resolutely ignoring me.
Everything inside me wanted to turn around and run away, but I had a very strong feeling that I had gone way too deep down the rabbit hole already, and that there was no turning back now.
On legs that felt too weak to carry me forward, I followed Gary into a completely empty room. The only furniture was a single steel chair. The tiled floor was in better shape than the one at the shelter, but the overhead lights were exactly the same.
The constant low buzzing filled my head until it became a huge echoing noise, jangling around inside me, threatening to swallow me up.
I wished it would.
Gary plonked his heavy frame onto the steel chair and looked me up and down while he sucked on his cigar, letting the ash fall to the already dirty floor. “Undress,” he said.
Caroline didn’t warn me about this part. “Wh- what?”
“Lemme see what I have to work with here. Strip.”
No man had ever seen me naked before. Not that I’m consciously aware of anyway. “I think- I think…This was a mistake,” I stammered and turned to leave.
A burly, bodyguard type wearing a black suit, stepped through the curtain and glared at me, his onyx eyes flashing danger as he folded his massive hands in front of him.
I knew once and for all that escape from this room was now futile. Gary tilted his head at me, plucked the cigar from his mouth and let it dangle between two pudgy fingers.
I focused on a bead of sweat that made its way down the side of his face, slowly gliding over his jaw, the droplet of gross water hovered there for a moment, then dripped onto his lap.
Gary leaned forward, tapping his cigar so the ash fell to the floor. “You came in here willingly didn’t you?”
The bit of chocolate cake I had earlier turned to clay in my stomach, and coffee-flavoured bile pushed up into my mouth. Caroline said I could leave whenever I felt like it, right up to the moment I was supposed to be sold.
The cold truth hit me like a fist in the guts. She lied, and I was a stupid, naïve little idiot for believing her. Did it never end? Even when I was at my lowest, she still had to torment me. Why?
“Girl!” Gary snapped. “You can do it yourself, or I’ll do it for you.”
What did I expect when I came to this place anyway? I didn’t know, I didn’t give it much thought, but I sure as hell should have anticipated this. Of course they wanted to inspect the goodies before they put it on display. I was no better than a painting being examined for authenticity before the auctioneer put it on the sales floor.
Numb and mute, I pulled my raggedy t-shirt over my head and gripped it in my fist while I folded my arms over my flimsy bra. It was a simple, cotton bra, but it was so used up that it was practically see-through.
“Everything!” Gary commanded.
My insides contracted and released, and a steel band squeezed around my chest like a python, making it nearly impossible to breathe.
I frantically glanced over my shoulder, looking for an escape, but the burly man at the curtain smirked and slowly shook his head.
I kicked off my sneakers, trying my best to ignore my big toe sticking out through the sock on me left foot, and quickly peeled off my damp jeans. My panties, like my bra, left nothing to the imagination anymore.
Burning up with shame and swallowing against the sharp sting in my throat, I stared at a spot on the floor and tried my best to cover myself with my arms.
The steel chair scraped loudly across the floor, and Gary’s unique blend of whiskey, cigars, putrid breath, sweat, and musky cologne filled my nostrils. The different scents came together to form a revolting stench that made my eyes water and challenged my already sensitive gag reflex.
A big, fat hand grabbed my face so hard that I heard my jaw crack. His fingers sunk away in my cheeks, forcing my mouth into a pout.
A lascivious grin spread across his lips as he dropped the half-smoked cigar to the floor and crunched it under his heel.
He let me go and nodded at the man behind me. I felt the massive man’s heat radiating into my back moments before he gripped my wrists and forced them to my side.
Gary wrapped his hand around the front of my bra and yanked. The material gave way with a soft rip, and all my stupid brain could come up with was that he just tore my last, somewhat good bra. My breasts flopped out and the bra straps hung limply on my shoulders.
Unbidden tears stung my cheeks like hot acid, but I didn’t make a sound until he pinched my nipple between is thumb and forefinger, twisting it so hard that I thought he would tear the sensitive bit of flesh right off my body.
I yelped softly and shrank in on myself, trying to get away from the pain. He let go and slapped my breasts hard enough to leave his fingerprints behind. “Nice, firm tits,” his eyes slithered over me. My skin crawled and I struggled against the firm hands holding me in place. “Are you a virgin?” he asked.
Unable to talk through the tears, I nodded and sniffled. For a mad second, I forgot that the other guy still had my wrists in his hands and I tried to lift my arm to wipe my face. “Ah-ah, girly,” he said. “Let Gary take a good look at you.”
The slime ball in front of me slid his hands around my body and grabbed my ass, digging is fingers so hard into the soft meat that my knees buckled and threatened to give out from under me.
The guard wrapped one arm around my shoulders and forced me against him, holding me upright. Something hard pressed into my upper back. A gun perhaps.
Gary’s pushed my panties aside, and before I could even register what was happening, he shoved his finger inside me and wiggled it while cackling maniacally.
It didn’t really hurt as much as I thought it would, but it was uncomfortable, and his long fingernails scraped harshly against the delicate skin, sending short bursts of sharp pain through me. “Stop,” I begged softly, hating my own pathetic little voice.
“You are tight,” he said, his disgusting breath rasping over his lips.
I stared at the unimpressive bulge in his trousers as he wormed his finger deeper inside, sending more of those shameful shocks coursing through me, and the more he enjoyed himself, the more it hurt.
I wanted to die. The inside of my skin crawled with a thousand bugs. There wasn’t enough water and soap in the world to wash this disgrace off my body.
I closed my eyes and waited for it to end, pushing back hard against the big man behind me. Gary’s belt buckle clinked and I readied myself for what was to come, when the guard said, “Stop it. Virgins are worth more.”
“Hm,” Gary grunted, pulled his finger out of me and stepped back.
I felt gloriously empty and weak with relief. The guard shoved a tissue at me. “Wipe your face,” he said.
I snatched the tissue from his hand and blew my nose, but the tears wouldn’t stop flowing.
“Caroline!” Gary barked.
She appeared in all her shining glory. Her hair was dry and tied into a high ponytail and she had reapplied her make-up. She looked every bit like the sweet, innocent girl next door she always pretended to be. “Take her upstairs and clean her up,” the pervert ordered. “She goes on the block tonight.”
Quinn The room Caroline took me to was a lot cleaner than the one we left behind. Other, half-naked women, were already here, bustling around, getting ready for the auction. They were all quiet, and they all had the same dead look of defeat in their eyes. Caroline showed me to an unoccupied chair and ordered me to leave my ratty old backpack on it before she took me to the bathroom. At least it was clean and it smelled good, unlike the showers at the shelter that always smelled of cheap soap and mildew. She handed me a toiletry bag, a single pair of black panties, a towel and a new razor. “Shave yourself,” she said. “Everything, including your cunt.” The kind, soft-spoken young woman from the coffee shop was gone, replaced by a harsh, vulgar one. Her eyes were cold and cruel. This was almost better – at least I knew and understood this Caroline. I could kick myself for trusting her. I should have known that she didn’t give a shit about me, but I wanted to believe her, and I foole
TroyThe girl hung hot and heavy against my back, but I could feel her bony ribs and hips sticking sharply into my chest.I shifted my hands a little higher so I wouldn’t touch her bare skin, but it didn't help much. I was still very aware of the sparks that crackled and popped between us. It drove me absolutely bat shit crazy.She didn’t put up a fight when I grabbed her, and even as I walked with her through the crowded club, she didn’t struggle against me, just quietly accepted her fate.I ignored the death glares from the men around me. I was so used to it that it didn’t even register. Club Ninety-Nine was neutral ground. No one here was allowed to start a war or fight each other. Donovan, the co-owner, had a mantra: Leave your beef at the door.If I could, if I didn’t respect the rules put in place, I would have grabbed the girl and simply took her. She was mine, and where I came from, under our laws, I had every right to take what was mine.But this wasn’t my world. It was the h
Troy As soon as we came home, I handed Quinn off to Sebastian and Missus Lowry, my housekeeper. I went straight to bed, where I spent rest of the night rerunning the moment Gary made a grab for Quinn’s privates over and over in my head. I recalled the flicker of fear in her eyes, the deep black bruise around her left nipple, the finger marks on her cheeks, the angry purple contusions on her thighs, and the way she tried to close her legs when that scumbag went to grab her. By the time the sun came up, I was good and angry and ready to break someone’s fingers one by one until they begged me for mercy. I took a long, hot shower, ignoring my persistent wolf that kept trying to force his way to the surface so he could run off to kill Gary. It took me a long time to get control of the beast. He was borderline psychotic and bred for a single purpose – to be a killing machine in my father’s unending war against the four other Lycan kingdoms. I leaned with my forehead against the cool sho
Quinn For once, I woke in a dry, warm, soft bed with a cosy, clean pillow under my head that wasn’t crawling with lice. I snuggled deeper into the pillow, trying to remember the last few hours as best as I could. Troy disappeared the moment we walked into his massive, three-storey mansion. I hadn’t seen or heard anything from him since. Sebastian brought me up to this bedroom. It had an empty wardrobe and an empty dresser, but the bed was beautiful, modern, and made up with pretty white and blue linens. There was a single piece of modern art against the wall, and the gleaming hardwood floor was broken up by a large, light blue area rug. The bathroom was bigger than the one I had when I still lived at home. Everything inside was clean and smelled glorious. The counters were dark granite, off-set by large white tiles and black cabinets. There were large, deliciously clean and fluffy towels, and the floor was comfortably warm under my feet. Everything I needed was already in the bath
Quinn Walking down the three flights of stairs to the lobby was a challenge. I tightly held on to the railing as I carefully made my way down the wide staircase. I always found going down more difficult than going up. The mansion was magnificent. Instead of displaying his wealth in the form of expensive art, glittery chandeliers, and gaudy statues, Troy decided to fill the space with beautiful, healthy plants and water features. There was no clutter, no extra furniture where they weren’t needed, and only a few pieces of exquisite, tasteful oil paintings, breaking up the bare, sparkling white walls. The whole place screamed of understated wealth. The dark, granite floors were comfortably cool under my bare feet, and the place was absolutely spotless. There wasn’t a single speck of dust or cobweb in sight. We had a full staff at my childhood home, working around the clock to keep the place in order, and we’d still come across dust, dirty floors and cobwebs. It was nearly impossible
Troy Doctor Jacobs knocked and entered my office upon my command. He put his heavy black bag on the floor and sat down without waiting for an invitation. “Do you want a drink?” I asked. “Just water, thank you, I have more patients to see.” I pushed away from my desk, and went to the small bar fridge to get the doctor his water before I walked around it to perch on the edge of my table as I always do when someone I know and trust is in my office. “How is she?” “She’s malnourished and dehydrated, but in good health, all things considered.” He spent nearly an hour with Quinn, and I wasn't satistifed with his answer. “What about her foot? Is there something you can do?” The doctor woefully shook his head. “I can’t tell you. Without imaging, an MRI would be best, I can’t tell how extensive the damage is.” "When do you need her to go?" "She declined further medical attention." I snorted loudly. “When do you need her to go?" I repeated the question. "We can fit her in next week, but
TroyQuinn’s heart raged like a storm when I opened the closet in the small bedroom and lifted the hidden trapdoor that led to the bunker under the cabin.I went down first, standing at the bottom of the ladder, ready to catch her if her foot failed and she fell, but she managed the descend well. Going back up might be a problem, but I’d worry about that when we got there.I caught her in my arms when she took the last step and landed on the dirt floor. I didn’t need to do it, she was steady on her feet, but I wanted to. My treacherous heart flipped over when I held her, and electricity coursed through my body.Her heart slowed down and the wild breathing that stormed past her lips evened out. She had to be aware that the way she reacted to my touch wasn’t normal. Even pureblood humans could feel the mate bond to some extent.The air in the bunker was thick and musty. It smelled of the earth and the stagnant blood of the many people that had bled down here over the years. It reminded
Troy The rubber mallet was perfect for Quinn. It caused Gary’s fingers to break, but there wasn’t a lot of blood. The first time she brought the hammer down, it didn't cause him much pain, and the damage was minimal. “Try hitting him a little harder,” I said. She grasped the blunt tool with both hands, held it high above her head, and brought it down with all her might. The cry tearing from Gary’s chest shook the roof. I inspected his rapidly swelling left hand. His fingers were quickly going from pink to a satisfying bluish-black. “Good job,” I praised her. I was so fucking hard, and my penis bent at an awkward, painful angle that made it difficult to think. I stepped away, back into the gloom, and undid my jeans, reaching inside my boxer briefs to adjust my erection before zipping up again. “Does…does violence turn you on?” Quinn asked behind me, a little uncertain still, but braver now. “Watching you does,” I said, sticking to my new honesty above all else rule. “If it were just