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“Relax, Raya. You need to behave tonight or you won’t live to see another.”

She reaches deeper into the basket and pulls out two small pills and a bottle of water.

She offers them to me, “Here, take these. They will help you relax.”

I take the pills from her hand, swallow them, and wash them down with water. Trish finishes tidying up the room as I sit on the bed and prepare myself for tonight.

For the next few hours, Trish does my hair, makeup, and dresses me up like a doll. I see her determined face tighten as she concentrates on making me look desirable. Her hands work quickly and I have the feeling she’s running out of time. She applies blush across my high cheekbones and dabs the last bit of gloss on my lips. Hurrying over to the dresser to grab a pair of red heels, she rushes back to me. I bend down to slip into them and stand up. I wobble as I get used to the height and Trish steadies my balance. She smiles at me, admiring her work of art.

She reaches to grab the small mirror and offers it to me, “Do you want to see?”

I glance at my reflection and gasp, “Whoa, I look…different.”

She huffs, “I know, you’ll have to get used to it, but this is what Derrick wants.”

Heavy black eyeliner outlines the shape of my eyes. A dark blue eye shadow accents my eyelids all the way up to my eyebrows. The bruise around my eyes is completely hidden with the help of a mousse foundation and concealer. Black mascara heightens the length of my eyelashes, providing an extension I never thought was possible. My lips are a bright red outlined with a darker shade of red to accent their fullness. My long, dark hair is pinned up, allowing a few strands to curl against the side of my face.

I glance down at my outfit and see a brick red corset wrapped around my chest with black leather buckles strapped across the front of it. A black leather mini skirt shows off my smooth legs and the matching red heels accentuate the outfit. I look away and hold back the tears. This is what I’ve become; someone’s whore.

Trish grabs a set of ropes, “I need to tie your wrists up. Please don’t make this any harder than it is.”

I offer my wrists to her and she ties them tightly together, preventing any chance of me getting out of them. Once she’s done, she pulls me in for a hug. I breathe deeply to try and relax but what’s the point? She caresses my back and kisses my cheek.

“Are you ready?”

Before I can answer, a loud pounding against the door startles us both. One of Derrick’s men barges in and stalks up to me, grabs my wrist, and pulls me out of the room.

Trish blocks his exit, “West, you’re early! What the hell? I haven’t prepared her.”

West grunts, “She’ll have to figure it out. Derrick wants her up there now.” He yanks me out of the room and into the dark hallway.

I hear Trish yell from behind me, “Remember to behave!”

As I’m pulled through the dark corridors, I see other men gathering more girls. I look around to find Layla but can’t find her. I pray that tonight is not her auction night. Tripping and stumbling, I almost fall against the hard floor, but I’m caught.

West seethes, “Watch where you’re going!”

I snarl back, “I would if you weren’t pulling so hard! It’s your fault I almost fell!”

He growls and continues to guide me through the halls and to the set of stairs that nearly provided my escape.

“Where are we going?”

He ignores my question and hauls me over his shoulder. I cry out in protest and start to punch his back. He continues up the stairs, arriving at the kitchen.

He pulls me off his shoulder and stands me up against him and looks deep into my eyes, “Don’t make a sound. You won’t live through the auction if you’re not quiet. Do you understand me?”

I nod in response as my entire body begins to tremble and my heart pounds against my chest. The panting of my breaths grows faster and louder as we make our way out of the kitchen and into a foyer. Glancing around, I realize this is no ordinary house; it’s absolutely huge. The décor is modern contemporary with a hint of traditional styles mixed in. West guides me down several hallways and through a couple of roo

ms.

As we walk further, I hear muffled sounds approach us. West leads me inside a small room already filled with girls, all dolled up for the auction. I glance around to see if I can find Layla but she’s not here with us. Including me, there are ten girls up for auction tonight. Each of us have our wrists bound by rope and I notice the girls are sitting calmly, without a care in the world.

West twists me around to face him, “Open your mouth.”

I refuse, “For what?”

His agitation seeps through his sigh, “Raya, listen to me. Just open your mouth. You need to.”

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