Page 7 of Sold to the Bikers
They gaveme four inch fuck-me heels, a black tank top that reads "Unwanted" in big, iron-on gold letters on the front, a push-up bra that squeezes my boobs up under my chin and a skirt that barely reaches below my butt. No panties—not that I'd want to wear any that they gave me.
My face stares back at me from the massive, dirty mirror across from an even dirtier bed in the room they threw me in last night. Everything smells like stale sweat and sex, and the shag rug crunches when I walk on it. I’m pretty sure this is the room they use to—ugh.
Instead of the bed, I spent the night curled up on the ratty couch with a coil poking my butt. I really, really want to just curl up somewhere and cry, but I’m not going to give these monsters the pleasure.
“Get the fuck out here,” Crusher yells from the other room. “You think you’re a fucking princess getting ready for the ball?”
No, not unless one of the cockroaches is going to turn into my fairy godmother and get me the hell out of here. Stomach in my throat, I mince into the next room. Crusher and a bunch of other men are waiting. Some I recognize as the guys that brought me here, and some I’ve never seen before.
“Not bad. Good tits, nice ass.” Crusher inspects me like a sex doll he ordered off the internet, his groping hands roaming over my body. I try not to show him how much I hate it because I’m pretty sure that just makes him more excited, but I can’t help flinching when he slips a hand between my thighs. A few of the men laugh.
“You’re jumpy as a fucking virgin,” Crusher scoffs.
That hits a little too close to home. I stare at my shoes and tug at the bottom of my skirt.
“No fucking way! You’re what? Twenty?”
“Two,” I whisper. “Twenty-two.”
“Shit, I wish we knew last night. Virgins make for shitty whores. Woulda been fun breaking her in,” one of the other bikers jokes. At least I hope it’s a joke.
An older guy glances up from his phone. “People pay for a virgin.”
Crusher gets a cunning look on his face that scares the heck out of me. He puts his hand on my throat and pushes me against the wall, pinning me like a bug. “I was gonna have the sluts do up your makeup and shit, but a virgin? Yeah. I like that. A real girl next door type.”
A skinny guy with tattoos down the right side of his face walks up and looks me over like there’s a freshness seal hidden somewhere. “You think she really is?”
“Doesn’t fucking matter,” Crusher says with a wave of his meaty hand. “I bet she’ll squeal like one either way, and that’s what they’re paying for.”
Oh, God. I thought maybe it would help if they knew, but this is so much worse. “I’m not,” I lie, forcing myself to breathe against his grip. “And I’ll tell them so. I sleep with guys all the time. So many I’ve lost count.”
His smile gets nasty. “You sure about that? You’ll end up getting fucked either way, and you can only sell your first time once. People pay big bucks for a virgin, and a hundred grand is a hell of a lot of money. If I put you up for auction, it’ll earn you a good down payment on that debt.”
When he lets go, I draw a deep breath, staying against the wall so I can use it for support. "Auction?”
"Yeah, we’ll put you up last. I bet if you walk around and wiggle that ass, word will spread. You make sure there isn’t a cock in the whole fucking room that isn't hard for you by the end of the night, and you’re gonna get fucking bids. The faster you earn the money, the sooner you can get back to baking cupcakes or whatever the fuck else you do.”
Get a roomful of guys hard for me? I can barely talk to men on a good day, and that’s when I want to. “I don’t know… I’m not that kind of girl.”
He grins. “I know, that’s what they pay for. Or maybe your sister will be more interested in the idea.”
“You said you’d leave her alone if I came with you!”
“And you said you’d do what we fucking asked!” he roars right back at me.
“Fine. I’ll do it.” As much as I hate it, he’s probably right, and am I really going to stand here and argue about how to sell myself?
With a solid swat on my ass, he drives me ahead of him like a cow to slaughter. I try to keep my stride confident, but as I turn the corner to face the room they're having the auction in, my legs turn to jello. The lights are low, the smell of smoke and alcohol is strong, and it’s full of men lounging around waiting for the show to start. Some are in biker leathers, but others are wearing suits, or look like totally normal guys who just got out of work. There's got to be at least fifty people in there, if not more. I put a hand against the wall to support myself while I wait for my breathing to steady.
"You'll be fine," grunts Crusher and swats my behind again. "Just wiggle those fat tits around and smile. If you’re lucky, they’ll see that ass and pay double to pop both cherries."
Double, for…? The world gets a little fuzzy for a second and I taste bile in the back of my throat. "Just… give me a moment, okay?"
A tall guy in a gray suit and slick, black hair raises a hand to get Crusher's attention. "Fine, get yourself together. But if I don't see you out there in five minutes, I'm going to tie you up, put you on the center table and let the crowd do their inspections by hand. Got me? Screwball, don’t let her out of your sight," he growls at one of his henchmen.
I shudder and nod.
The guy in the suit looks at me and smiles with blindingly white teeth. He's handsome, and looks professional, which gives me a sliver of hope. Maybe I can get out of the worst of this if I appeal to someone who looks like they’d listen to my story.