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“Good news for you. A lot of our members don’t mind it dirty,” she said with a scoff. “Put some makeup on your face and get ready to meet them.”
I was about to protest, but she sensed my hesitance and didn’t give me a single moment to react. She pulled a thicker, longer baton from the waistband of her pants and jammed the end into my neck. I felt a massive jolt of electricity go through me, zapping me hard enough that I bit down and bit my own tongue.
Blood filled my mouth as I arched my back and fell to my knees in pain. My eyes rolled in my sockets and I couldn’t get any word out of my mouth, I could only emit a low, grunting sound of pain.
“If you keep up this attitude, I’ll give the baton to one of our members,” she said. “One of the freaks who love pain. Thackeray, maybe, he gets off on that sort of thing.”
Green-eyed girl was right, Thackeray was a disgusting perv.
I couldn’t do anything about it, though, because even as I swallowed blood and choked on my own tears, my body didn’t seem to work. I couldn’t make myself obey, the electric surge had fried my nerves and turned my limbs to jelly.
“Get up,” the female guard snapped and yanked my arm. “I said, get up!”
She took a fistful of my hair in her hand and slowly dragged me to standing. I shook and trembled, my legs unable to completely function, but I managed to stay upright.
She shoved me into a chair and ordered a girl to do my make-up. The girl resented me, you could tell, and jabbed at my eyes with mascara and painted on bright gold eyeshadow. I looked like a painted doll, a parody of myself, and I felt as if I was trapped in the wrong body.
It wasn’t me looking back from the glass, I couldn’t recognize myself when I was beaten down and nearly destroyed.
I numbly obeyed when we were ordered as a group to go back into the casino room. I was no longer present in my own flesh when I was forced to walk through the room, through the crowds of Organization members, as they pinched me and rubbed my breasts, grabbed my ass and tried to slip their fingers in between my legs.
I fought them as much as I could; I tried to protect myself from their greedy, seeking hands, but it wasn’t perfect. I couldn’t completely keep them away.
“Look at her,” one old man said to his friends. “What a perfect, filthy little whore.” He was talking about me and I hated him for it.
“You, whore!” his friend said and snaked his hand out to grab my wrist. “Come sit on my lap.”
He dragged me onto him, and I fought the tears leaking from my eyes when he pulled me onto his lap. His hands were all over me, and his mouth pressed against my arm. He kissed me with his damp, fleshy lips and slithered his tongue along my skin.
I gagged and shivered as he pressed his fingers into my thigh, moving upwards to my cleft. If he found my vagina, I was going to scream. If he managed to shove anything inside of me, I wasn’t going to be able to keep it all inside.
My head spun and my heart beat as the tears came faster. The man and his friends talked about me being a whore, and each of them grabbed a girl for their laps. They treated us like we were cuts of meat, like we were prized lapdogs, like we were nothing more than fuck machines for their desires.
I couldn’t stand it any longer and I took a deep breath to scream, but he noticed my tears. He dragged his knuckles across my wet cheeks and licked the salty liquid off his hand.
“Delicious,” he said. “I love it when they cry.”
His friends laughed and pinched their girls, all betting on who could get us sobbing first.
I couldn’t help the tears leaking, but I wasn’t going to let him make me cry harder. I refused to give him the satisfaction, and so even when he pinched my nipples and drew his fingernails across my abdomen, leaving bright red beads of blood in his wake, I refused to cry.
After a few more minutes, his friends grew tired of us and began to push their girls off their laps. The old man who had me gave me one hell of a hard shove and I fell onto my knees at his feet.
“That’s where I like them,” he laughed. “But not right now. Listen, little whore, I have more important things to do. As delicious as you are, you smell and I want to win back my million.”
He picked up his cards from the table in front of him, and the old men turned back to their card game, leaving us alone.
I reveled in it, their lack of attention, and I got up to walk back into the dressing room. I was blocked before I made it there, and forced to stand in the room near the bar, letting anybody touch me if they wanted.
Luckily, there was an air of financial competition in the air and I wasn’t assaulted like I worried. I could handle the prodding and terrible touching, but wanted it to be over.
Finally, it was. We were allowed to take our leave. I was barred from going with the other girls and escorted back to my prison building on my own.
I was dying to find out how Ryker had fared, and I wanted to check in on Penny again.
"What are you doing with me?" I asked, as the guard finally edged me through the doors and down my corridor.
"Wait here and find out," he said as he locked me back in my cell.
