Chapter 102: Working Time

(In the previous chapter, two American girls are kidnapped in Mexico, raped and then sold to gang members.)

Stacey Williams was only 14, and barely that. She was almost five feet tall, weighed about 105 pounds. Her breasts were still developing assets. Small in size, they were just starting to show their shape. Her long, silky smooth brown hair reached to the small of her back. She had planned on shopping tomorrow for a new swimsuit. Now, this had happened ... and it wasn’t over apparently.

Stacey’s older sister Susan was fifteen. Like her younger sister, Susan was very beautiful, a very cute teenage American girl. Stacey had developed early, her breasts definitely her best assets. Of course, she had a nice, soft butt and an adorable, cute look about her, even after having been raped by some ex-Army cripples. Susan had long, silky brown hair like her sister. Susan’s whole area ‘down there’ still ached from the previous assaults. Her breasts were still sore from all the abuse they’d taken, yet surprisingly they didn’t have too much bruising. Stacey felt the same. Even her much smaller breasts hurt still from all the rubbing.

Three members of the Curacas Motorcycle Club put the two blindfolded girls into an old Chevy. The two had no idea where they were or where they were going. At least at the moment they weren’t being raped. Soon enough, the car stopped; doors opened. They were pulled from the car and forced to walk ahead where they pointed them. There, the blindfolds and tape were removed. Each girl was completely nude, bikinis long gone.

The girls found themselves in the backroom of some bar or club house. Two big, overweight women bikers with multi-colored hair began brushing their hair, cleaning them up, or trying to. They both got lipstick applied. Too much they thought. Some makeup over the bruising on their thighs. Their hair was brushed. One woman sorted through some clothes, pulling out two very short skirts, both black and shiny. They were forced to put them on. Stacey and Susan both were happy to get something on again, even if it was just this impossibly short skirt. Trying to keep it lower just pulled it down their hips. That was all there was. They were told in broken English to cover themselves, crossing their arms across their chests. Then they were made to walk out front. A few men stood around, bikers. This was the bar area. All these biker-types stared at the two girls. Stacey and Susan just stared at the floor, covering their chests. The men made rude comments in Spanish. The two were taken in back again.

Susan sat there in this plastic chair next to her sister, still covering herself. Stacey kept whispering, crying, “What are we going to do?” “I don’t know, I don’t know...” was all she could say. They sat there for a long time, sometimes pleading, asking one of the women what was going to happen to them. All they got was “Shut up, you two!”