Chapter 6

I fell into a restless sleep that night. I wasn’t sure I was even asleep during what must have been about 3 hours. 3 hours, because that’s when I suddenly heard my phone buzzing right next to me on the night stand. I was wide awake instantly. Who was calling in the middle of the night?

I reached to my phone, and pressed the green icon on my smartphone.

“Hello?” My voice must have sounded tired.

“Hey baby, how are ya, got some sleep?”

It was Gab, and I was immediately awake again.

“Well, a little bit, I -”

“Listen up. We need you at the house. The Russian wants you. Pack some of those money makin’ clothes you got and wait for me outside in 10 minutes, alright baby?”

I felt my heart sink. Oh god. What? After all that just happened? They want me at ... what? The house? Their house? Didn’t they realize I had a normal life outside all of this? And that I needed sleep just like any other person? Did they deliberately try to stress me out? And the Russian? That woman who was at the dinner? What did that even mean?

“Aight.” She didn’t even wait for me to answer.

And just like that, Gab ended the call.

“Shit, no, no, no.” I reached to my forehead as I slid off my bed, and started to walk around in circles.

I felt a deep panic inside of me. They weren’t going to let me have my life back. They were making me theirs, to claim me whenever they liked. Those promises that T made about being able to have a life next to this, I was really starting to doubt them.

“FUCK!!” I screamed desperately while face palming, while tears burned in my eyes yet again.

I thought I was going to faint, but my survival mechanism must have been taking over, because getting ready in 10 minutes was probably not meant as optional thing, and I was scared shitless.

I absent mindedly got into a white shirt, my grey Adidas sweatpants and matching hoodie, put on my white sneakers, and found those two ridiculously slutty outfits that I got before going to that birthday party of Kath and Debra’s friend. That party that I so regretted going to. That was the point where I should have refused.

By then, I got the idea about my desired appearance, and slipped the incredibly high platform heels, which I had been wearing for long enough in the last twelve hours, in the bag too.

Just as I grabbed my keys, my phone and my wallet from the counter, I heard a car horn outside, honking for way too long, some 10 seconds in the quiet night. I felt deeply stressed, as I walked towards the window. There was no doubt it was her. I swear it had only been about 5 minutes since she called. But I started to doubt myself at the same time.

Worried that she’d wake up the neighbors, I hurried towards my apartment door, turned off the light, locked the door, and ran down the stairs of the apartment building, on my sneakers, and with my bag over my shoulder, once again into the cold air of the night.

Despite my lack of sleep, my eyes were wide open as I opened the blinded door on the passenger’s side. Immediately that strong smell of weed blew into my face again. But I didn’t have time to even think about that.

“Hi,” I even said in an attempt to be polite, still worrying that I actually showed up too late.

Gab didn’t seem to care. She just looked at me without saying a word, and waited for me to get in and close the door. We left off, out of the street I knew so well, and she now knew too.

She didn’t worry about speeding at all, as she drove through the quiet streets at a ridiculously high speed, ignoring traffic lights, while seemingly calm as ever. My heart was pounding on more than one occasion where she couldn’t possibly have seen that there was nothing around the corner.

“I got somethin’ to fix you up if you want it,” she then said out of the blue.

I thought for a second, before I realized what she was actually offering. Drugs.

“Oh, no I’m fine,” I rejected her offer immediately.

“Well you look like shit.”

“I’ve brought makeup, and with some caffeine I’ll be fine,” I assured her, slightly defensively, trying to do my best to make her believe I’d be fine. I didn’t want drugs, not ever.

Gab didn’t respond. Just when I needed some kind of validation, some kind of reassurance that I was going to be fine, she left me hanging.

I just sat there quietly, next to her, while we got onto highway. I grew worried about where we were going. Far beyond midnight, on what was supposed to be a regular Wednesday night, or early morning, where I would still be sleeping, I sat there next to this gangster woman in a car with tinted windows. Apparently not having a say in what my life looked like anymore, while my body was still tired from everything that happened before.

I saw the lines and marks on the road fly by, while Gab answered one phone call after the other, although even though she put all of them on speaker, I could hardly understand what was being said because of the heavy use of slang. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to understand. Gab certainly didn’t make any effort to keep things secret from me. She must have figured I was too trapped already to even make an effort to hide anything from me.

Then the car took an exit, and things went fast from there. The car drove onto a lane up a hill, and suddenly the car stopped in front of a gate, and I saw two women holding machine guns in the car light. Actual machine guns.

I was feeling so very much on edge, as Gab opened her window, while my hands felt cold and sweaty at the same time. It’s as if my nightmare reached a whole new level yet again.

One of the women walked up to the car, and greeted Gab casually.

“‘Sup, ‘sup, yeah ... all good, all good,” I heard her side from the conversation while she leaned towards the opened window, where they were bumping fists.

Then suddenly, the woman bent forward, sticking her head through the window frame, looking directly at me with her big white eyes.

“You a cop?” she then literally shouted at me. I cringed.

Gab started to actually laugh out loud. That was a first.

“Yeah she a cop fo’ sho,” Gab responded, while patting my knee.

“Hey, I gotta ask!” the woman responded to Gab with a comical face. It was such a sharp contrast with the deadly weapon she was holding.

She was mocking me, and I just sat there, forcing myself to smile politely at her little, misplaced joke.

“Yeah she’s a cop, now open the fucking gate already,” Gab snickered.

“Aight well that’s on you then, bringing cops into this motherfucker,” she kept joking.

“Shit...” Gab shook her head with that smile still on her face as the woman then took a step back, gave a signal to a few others standing in the dark with their guns, and the high doors in front of us opened automatically.

Gab drove straight ahead at a slow pace, and for the first time I saw the large mansion behind it. I could see some lights in the garden, but it was too far from where we were to see what was actually going on. Gab drove the car onto a parking lot, where about ten other expensive looking cars were parked.

“Home sweet home, baby,” Gab then said, clearly in a better mood than when we left my apartment, or at any other time she had been present.

I didn’t want to look completely brainless, and got out of the car following Gab’s lead closely, and walked with her to the entrance. Another guard. And, my second time seeing an actual machine gun right in front of my nose. She looked a lot more serious than the one at the gate. Gab didn’t say a word, and neither did she, as we passed and Gab opened the door.

We walked into a hallway, and then finally into a large living space, which looked like a large living room with a kitchen area attached to it, divided by a counter. But given how large the house was, it was probably not even the only living room.

Gab casually walked towards the kitchen area, and opened the fridge, where she fetched two cans of beers, suddenly throwing one at me, which I just managed to catch. I didn’t even drink beer, but I did not want to refuse anything at this point.

Reluctantly, I opened it, and took a few sips of beer, while Gab walked away from me.

“Yo, Alexa! Alexa!” she shouted. “Wait here.”

She looked at me over her shoulder before heading outside through one of the terrace doors, only to come back seconds later with a woman probably somewhere in her thirties, her hair dyed black, tattoos everywhere, tall, clearly too skinny for how tall she was, and wearing just the sluttiest outfit. I was sure she was a hooker. Pink fishnet stockings, the highest platform heels I had ever seen, black short hotpants barely covering her skinny butt, and a tight tank top was all she was wearing. Her makeup was way too heavy, and she was holding a cigarette in her right hand.

“This is Princess, ghetto her up, she’s gonna entertain.”

She looked at me with a bored look, and I stared back at her awkwardly.

“Ok.”

Even though I only heard one word, I could immediately hear her Eastern European accent.

“Come,” she said after taking another drag of her cigarette, and gestured for me to follow her.

I awkwardly put the can of beer on the counter, and followed her, my bag over my shoulder, to a room which looked a lot like some kind of backstage dressing room.

“Clothes off,” she gestured at me, while she went on to choose some makeup from the huge collection on the dressing table in front of the large mirror, and jewelry from one of the drawers, while occasionally seemingly measuring me up with her eyes.

While the smoke of her cigarette filled the room, I awkwardly put my bag on the floor, and bent to take off my sneakers and my socks, my head filled with all sorts of doubts. Where was I, exactly? And what was going to be expected of me? How long was I going to stay here? How was I going to get home? Would I be on time for college tomorrow, or today, since it was already so very late, at all?

Once I was naked, Alexa then handed me a tube.

“Lube first,” she simply said.

The questioning look in my eyes as I stood there seemed to downright annoy her. She reached out, and grabbed the lube right out of my hands, as she sighed.

I was just too overwhelmed to anticipate what happened next. She opened the tube, squeezed out a large drop of lube, and without any warning, reached between my legs. Having no time to overthink what she was going to do, I spread my feet apart slightly, and nearly a second later her hand was spreading the lube not only over my pussy lips, but also reaching all the way in between my cheeks, generously spreading the cold lube through my cheeks, over my sensitive anus, making my face flush as I stood there, helplessly allowing her.

“Or else, hurt,” she mentioned in that same bored voice once she was done.

I couldn’t believe she reached out just like that and felt all the way up my crack in seconds, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. And hurt? What was I even in for this time?

She walked to a few clothing racks in the corner, and over some choices that didn’t seem to please her too much, she got an outfit. She was carrying jeans shorts and a top when she returned to me.

“You have shoes?” she pointed at my travel bag.

“Mhm,” I slightly nodded, thinking of my high platform heels.

She pointed impatiently at the bag.

“Open, open.”

Still not used to that slippery feeling in between my legs and between my cheeks, I bent down in a slight hurry, and unzipped the bag. I took the high platform heels with the silver colored straps out. The shoes I once bought for my harmless little adventure, that had escalated so far ever since.

She took a look at them, seemingly evaluating them. She then walked towards me, taking one of the shoes from me, and walked back to the clothing racks. She studied the shoe, and took another pair in the same size from under the racks. About as high, but gold colored.

She literally threw them in front of me, on the floor.

“Put on.” she said while she pointed to the clothes she picked earlier, and the shoes now in front of me.

Awkwardly I reached to the clothes, and put on what appeared to be jeans shorts. The kind you’d sometimes see girls wearing in public - certainly not me, showing a bit of cheek. Except these turned out to be showing a lot of cheek. They were cut up very high, ragged, and ran between my cheeks almost like a thong, pressing against my lubed up crack slightly. I couldn’t imagine anything more slutty looking.

The top was just a cut off white t shirt, so short that it showed the lower part of my bare breasts while standing up straight.

The gold colored shoes finished the look, although not as far as Alexa was concerned. In her impatient manner, she put wide, gold colored bracelets around both of my wrists, consisting of chained rings, and a matching one around my ankle. Brushing my hair away as if I was some sort of doll, she put large round earrings in my ears. All gold, which looked so unlike me when I took another look in the mirror above the makeup table. I always wore silver, and definitely more subtle things, too. But this clearly wasn’t about looking subtle. This was about the opposite.

She then looked down at my exposed belly button, even reaching out and grabbing some of my skin there between her thumb and index finger.

“No piercing hole,” she mumbled while looking into my eyes, as if she just found that out and wanted to notify me about it or something. As if I didn’t know.

She searched in the drawer of the makeup table, and finally returned with a clip on fake belly piercing. It looked somewhat odd I found, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Sit.” She pointed at the chair in front of the makeup table.

I sat down, and Alexa used whatever she chose for makeup on my face. Lots of it. As I sat there I watched my lips become bright red, my eyes darker and darker, applying rose blush on my cheeks, and she even removed a few excess hairs from my eyebrows. She was quite an expert at it, doing all this at an unbelievably high pace.

Just as she was about to finish, the door behind us opened, and I could see in the mirror that it was T.

“Almost,” Alexa said as T walked in, as if she knew what T was going to ask.

T was still wearing that black outfit she was wearing what literally had been five hours ago, when we were at the restaurant with the Russians.

“Hi babygirl,” T said, while looking into my eyes through the mirror in front of us.

“Hi T,” I answered nervously, again feeling the effect of that sharp, piercing look in her eyes.

“Welcome to your new second home...” she said, talking more to herself than to me, while she came to stand right behind me, and laid a hand on my shoulder.

After a short, friendly rub of her hand on my shoulder, she casually lifted the loose white shirt just barely covering my bare breasts, now exposing my left breast while Alexa was still working on my makeup.

“Mm ... I missed looking at my girlfriend’s young white titties,” she then said crudely, even though her tone was soft, casual.

I was embarrassed about Alexa being there, hearing how T was treating me, and how I let her treat me, even though I wasn’t even sure that she’d understand, or whether that seemed strange to her at all.

“There, done,” Alexa then said, taking one more look.

“Aight,” T said. “Stand up babygirl, let me take a look at you.”

I stood up from the chair, and turned around, now directly facing T, who in turn took a seat on the chair I was sitting in, looking up at me. I saw her eyes wander over my thighs, my ridiculously slutty shorts, the very short white shirt.

She then noticed the fake piercing, and the look on her face gave away her dissatisfaction.

“What? I want none of that fake shit,” she said.

Immediately she reached out, but instead of carefully opening the clip, she yanked it right off my naked skin. I gasped, and it was shock more than pain that I felt.

She then raised her hand, and without any warning, without any reason, she dished out a hard slap in my face, right where she hit me before, and I really only managed to not let any tears flow. I was trembling heavily, clenching my wrists. Alexa sighed.

“Princess baby ... look at me. That hurts, doesn’t it.”

I nodded, and my face must have been looking like some scared child.

“See, I’m going to hurt you a lot more if you don’t perform here at the house,” she continued.

“This ain’t about being a hooker like in the club. This ain’t about getting paid. This is about us getting paid back what you took from us. Ain’t it, cheating little Princess.”

I just nodded again. I even heard her anger. I felt it. It was too humiliating to even answer, and I really didn’t have the luxury to protest. To tell her that it wasn’t fair. To tell her that I could give her the money I made outside the club. I knew very well that it wasn’t even about that. This was all about cornering me. Claiming me. And yet, the anger in her voice was so very real. I didn’t know what to make of it.

T looked up to me, into my eyes, with that scary, angry look in her eyes. I felt my stomach ache, as I knew something was about to happen. Something bad. I wanted to apologize, but I didn’t know for what.

“Get on your knees,” she said, while she sat on the chair in front of me where I just received my makeup job from Alexa.

Embarrassed, I got on my knees in front of T, with Alexa probably watching us. I didn’t dare to look.

“Open your mouth,” she said in that same flat tone, while her eyes seemed furious still.

I opened my mouth, and I felt slightly sick because of how vulnerable it made me feel to something that would clearly come.

T then reached towards me, and slid two fingers in my throat. She felt inside, in a way that made me desperate. Roughly pushing her fingertips against my palate, into my throat, back to my palate, pushing against my gums, while she just kept looking into my eyes, and me barely being able to breathe normally, choking on her fingers.

“I expect an answer from my girl when I’m clearly asking her something.”

She then suddenly removed her hand, and landed another slap on my cheek. Not as hard as the previous time she did that, but enough to hurt and humiliate me deeply.

“Yes T,” I then answered, scared as hell, my knees shaking while I was sitting on the floor.

“See, when you go out there,” she continued, while her fingers, now three, then casually slipped between my lips again, and her nerve wrecking ritual continued, “you are going to behave like entertainment. You’ve already been paid for, and now you gotta pay back, you know what I’m sayin’. No more forgetting to give sugar, and no more walking like a prudish white bitch because if I see that shit one more time you get acid in your pretty face,” her eyes shot fire, and she raised her voice, “like I know you did when you just walked in. I ain’t having that. Ever. Not in the house, not in the club. Ever. You got that, Princess?”

She removed her fingers finally, leaving me trembling with fear, and I had to endure yet another smack on my cheek, even a bit harder than the previous one.

“Yes T.” My voice trembled.

I was sure that she, or whoever, maybe one of the women working for her, was going to keep an eye on me even if I didn’t notice, to make sure I was behaving like she wanted. I promised myself to really pay attention to that from now on. I’d rather sacrifice some dignity than ... that thing she mentioned. I remembered the girl’s ear in the club all too well. She was not kidding around. No one here was.

Her painful ritual continued, and this time I felt as if I had to throw up as she pushed her fingers right back into my mouth, wildly moving them inside my mouth.

“No one here will fucking tolerate you acting like a stuck up little bitch, and anyone will fucking punish the fuck out of you if you don’t act like a good slut, and trust me, it will get worse when they hear you’re a little cheater,” she continued rubbing my nasty situation in my face.

“Here, you are free pussy, free ass, free well deserved entertainment, a free little white bitch for everyone to use, so you -” she removed her hand once again, and I felt it on my cheek, “gonna start-”, smack, “acting-” another smack, “like one.”

My left cheek was burning by now, and I just barely managed to hold in my tears.

Her hand then ran through my hair, softly, while she kept looking into my eyes, even though the look in her eyes softened a bit compared to seconds ago.

“It ain’t that hard, baby, just look at what the other girls are doing. But you gotta remember to be the best, you know, you’re my girl and all, and I don’t want them thinking I ain’t keeping my girl in line, you know what I’m saying, right baby?”

I just nodded, while I had so much to process.

“Yes T,” I managed to then add quickly, my heart beating faster even because of the short pause I took before acknowledging her.

To my relief, she seemed too caught up in her story to notice.

“They look up to me, and my reputation is also your responsibility, baby. So you gonna show them why T picked you, ain’t that right,” she continued as she tapped slightly against my cheek.

That moment, the door to the room opened, and Gab stormed in.

“Yo what the fuck is taking -” she stopped. “Oh, hey T.”

“Gab, just teaching my girl a few things about paying back her debt, know what I mean,” T said calmly.

“Aight, sure, yeah,” Gab answered. “Russian’s fuckin’ drunk and high like shit wondering where the American girl is, so I gave her Tara to keep her at least fucking quiet.”

“Tara can handle her,” T responded.

“Yeah, except her second keeps fucking going on about how a deal’s a deal and shit, insisting her boss is gonna get Princess,” Gab slightly nodded into my direction, while I was still sitting on the floor in front of T.

“Yeah sure, no problem, give her Princess for a while and some shit to make her pass out, and that’s that, tired of that shit.”

I wasn’t sure whether to stand up or not, but T leaned towards me, and before I knew it, she kissed me on the mouth.

“You gonna remember what I told you, baby?” she said, after breaking the kiss.

“Yes T,” I answered again, while my nerves started to spin through my body like crazy.

“Aight get up and follow Gabs. I don’t want no complaints.” Her look was serious again, while I finally stood up, as T reached out and once again caressed over my bare belly, slowly. “Don’t make ‘em beg for that white pussy, this ain’t no club. And I will fucking know.”

I nodded, while feeling so on edge about what was going to happen. I didn’t know what to expect at all. Yet, there was this crazy emphasis on how I was to behave.

“What are you gonna be around here?” She kept caressing my naked skin with her dark skinned knuckles.

“Free pussy, T.”

I could see Gab impatiently playing with her phone, while T once again took her time to rub it all in my face again.

“And what happens when you start acting like a prude, stuck up little bitch again, Princess baby?”

I kept quiet, not immediately knowing what to answer. I didn’t want to think about it. Not again.

“You get a little acid spray in your pretty face, don’t you baby,” T said in a calm, but deeply threatening voice.

“Yes T,” I answered, while my voice was trembling. I didn’t want to think about that.

“Proper posture, sugar greetings, eager pussy and ass. Say it.”

I felt so embarrassed about Alexa and Gab being in the room. But there was no way I was going to refuse anything T said.

“Proper posture, sugar ... greetings, eager pussy and ass.”

I was blushing while she cupped my ass, squeezing it gently, and even though soft and playful, I felt scared at the same time.

“I think you’ll do good.”

It seemed as if Gab now really lost her patience as she took the opportunity to finally get this over with, because she immediately stepped towards me, and I felt her strong hand grip around my upper arm, as if she wanted to literally drag me away from T, losing her patience.

“Aight, you gonna go to the bathroom first,” she said. “But hurry the fuck up.”

Alexa walked towards me and handed me the bottle of lube. It only took a second before I understood that I’d have to use it after I had been to the bathroom.

It was the first time back in the larger, public space of the mansion wearing this completely slutty outfit. Gab finally let go of my arm, as we walked along the kitchen space on one hand, the living room on the other hand, through a large open area towards the toilet, and already I saw people looking at me.

There was a group of three gangsters looking at a phone one was holding, and one of them looked up. I became anxious, as I remembered all too well now what T had rubbed in. It felt as if I was on my own now, and that I had to make it all happen. I nervously started to move my hips a bit more by putting one foot in front of the other as I walked. I felt on the spot as then suddenly someone was looking up from the phone and at us, probably triggered by the clicking sound of my gold colored high heels on the tiled floor. I was noticed. Noticed as being a gang slut.

“‘Sup baby,” the taller one said as we headed to where the bathroom apparently was.

She was clearly looking at my legs, probably even at my butt, partly exposed because of the ridiculously high cut booty shorts. I think I recognized one of them from the club. Now all three were looking at me.

“Not now, aight Stabby, she’s preppin’ for a job,” Gab was quick to mention. As if Gab knew they’d immediately claim me, even when just greeting me.

“Aight, that’s cool, well bring that sweet ass to us later then...” she said, very clearly looking into my eyes now. “Get to know each other a lil’ bit, know what I’m saying,” she said.

I just nodded slightly, so very nervously. I didn’t know whether I should even respond, or whether Gab would respond for me.

“Well I sure fuckin’ hope she won’t be acting like a scared little bitch later,” she then said in a harsh tone.

“I’m sure she can be taught many things...” Gab answered with a grin.

The woman didn’t even smile.

“Yeah we got ways ... stuck up bitch. Don’t forget. Look for Bee’s crew.”

Jesus god. I didn’t even know what I did wrong. Or what I was supposed to do.

Gab gently pushed into my lower back to go into the direction of the bathroom door. While I walked there, she kept talking to the group of three.

“Her name’s Princess, she’s new.”

“No shit she’s new,” the woman answered aggressively. “Hate those victim playing bitches, thinking their protection is free and freeloadin’ cocaine from us, bitches gotta learn.”

I couldn’t hear what else was being discussed, as I went into the toilet. It was as if everyone wanted something from me, and at the same time I had no idea what. I didn’t belong here. This was all a big mistake.

Uncomfortably, I started to pee and wiped myself carefully, and applying more lube afterwards just felt so crazy. As did pulling up those scandalously slutty booty shorts afterwards.

I flushed the toilet, and opened the door again.

Gab was waiting outside and ready to take me wherever I needed to be, when a door to the side of a hallway to the right of us opened.

I had to get used to the sight of what happened in front of my eyes. A short, old, black woman with short gray afro hair came out, wearing a long red robe and red slippers, while a tall, completely nude brunette was walking with her on her high heels, smiling and moving like some top model, as they rushed towards us, the old woman having the most intense, fierce look in her eyes that I had ever seen. Like T, but even more intense.

“Who the fuck are you. Who the fuck are you.” she repeated in a very confrontational tone while she walked towards me, the tall girl holding her hand rushing to keep up with her, while wiggling her wide hips, arching her back in such an exaggerated way at the same time.

I felt intimidated. I wasn’t sure whether she was even talking to me. This woman was bad news.

I was too overwhelmed to answer, while she came closer, the girl right next to her. She stood in front of me, looking up to me. I was much taller than the short, old lady in front of me, about as tall as the naked girl standing next to her. But despite looking up to me, I could tell she didn’t respect me for one bit.

Then suddenly, in a split second, she reached out to me, and before I knew it, she held my left nipple in a firm grip between her thumb and her index finger, pulling hard through the tiny, thin shirt I was wearing. I gasped as I bent down slightly, my face closer to hers.

“Who the fuck are you, talk bitch!”

“Ahh ... I’m ... Princess,” I gasped.

“How old are you.”

“Twenty ... hhaa...” I squirmed in pain because of the very intense, tight, mean grip that only seemed to intensify.

“Get on your knees and kiss my goddamn feet,” she said, talking fast, still firmly tugging on my nipples through the thin, cut off shirt.