AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Echo
Even during the worst days of my youth, I was never a straight-up prostitute. Some might argue that escorts or strippers are essentially the same, and they wouldn’t be wrong. But those somehow seem… classier?
There is nothing classy about this place, which seems to be some kind of brothel. Not the kind where you have a choice, though I suppose that's the way of many of them. This is a place where dreams die. A place where pretty girls are taken in and spat out, useful only for the holes they provide.
Though the basement is larger than I anticipated, the sounds carry over the large space easily.
I don’t have to see what happens to the other girls, but I can hear it.
My head leans against the wall, teeth clenched as I listen to someone cry in the distance.
The woman in the cell across from me is still gone, and I don’t know what to make of that. A few men have come in and out, obviously to visit other cells, so why is she gone?
She said we were in Hell.
I don’t even want to imagine where she’ll end up next.
What about yourself?
“Shut up,” I mumble to the voice, putting my hands over my ears. It doesn’t muffle the screams or the voices. It doesn’t stop me from shutting down, piece by piece….
I wish I was able to turn my body and mind off. Apparently, my body is too stubborn for that. The one thing I do have is my voice. I don’t want them to hear me cry, to hear me beg.
I can’t stop the tears.
Hours pass inside the small room before anyone comes back.
It feels like hours, anyway.
When the giant man who works with Neil comes in—Maynard, I heard someone call him—he brings another man with him. I’m not sure what to expect, but at the same time, I know exactly what is coming. The other man looks so normal—skinny and small, even—though his clothes tell me he has money. Any other man, any other client, I might have fucked.
But this man isn’t a client.
Not one who will pay me, anyway.
“Anything goes?” the man asks, and Maynard nods.
“Nothing permanent,” is all he replies.
My head drops back against the bench as the door is opened and the man enters. My eyes take in the details of his face, the awful mustache and the weak chin. His smile should scare me, but it doesn’t.
I glance back at Maynard and am a bit surprised to see a look of disgust, possibly disapproval, on his face. The skinny man grins as he comes above me. The smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke washes over me and I turn my head to the side. The smell increases as the man licks up the side of my face and I shudder.
“One hour,” Maynard’s deep voice says behind me, and I hear his footsteps recede.
The man wastes no time.
I’m already naked, so there’s no obstacle there. My body feels limp and useless as he undoes his own pants. He makes a sound of disapproval and I feel a hand connect with my face.
“Move, bitch,” he growls at me, “I not pay for fucking limp noodle.”
It isn’t until I feel his slim dick against my thigh that I come back to myself and struggle in earnest.
“Wha—settle down, pretty girl. I paid good money for you,” the man whispers.
“Fuck you,” I manage to rasp as I struggle in earnest, shoving him off me with all my weight. He hits the floor, a look of shock on his face. I stand, my chest heaving as I look down at the pathetic little rapist.
I hear footsteps coming closer across the room and know my time is limited.
