Chapter 8

It had been three anxious months since that last, horrible encounter with the Tigres gang. I had been watching the local news wide eyed the following day. There had been footage of a rival gang shooting, and the messy clash with the police that had followed. The images of the mansion on the hill had me frozen to the couch, but the mugshot of both T and Bones that appeared next had me run off to the bathroom and throw up. There had been arrests. Deaths. Enormous amounts of drugs were seized. I hadn’t been able to process it.

I hadn’t been able to sleep during the nights that followed. I felt like a ghost after nights of being wide awake, lying down, feeling restless, then getting up again. I didn’t answer the texts on my phone. I just couldn’t type whenever I stared at them. I only frequently checked to see if any unknown number had tried to reach me, and felt tense whenever I did it. I felt tense all the time. I had felt disoriented during my walk to the grocery store after the first few days. I avoided looking at my body in the mirror. I wanted to deny the existence of that tattoo.

Then, after a week or so, I finally entered a more rational phase. I tried to get my thoughts in order. I knew for a fact that T was arrested, and if I had interpreted the news correctly, so was Bones, and a lot of the other gang members. I tried to make myself believe that this was the end of all this. That I was safe, and that I didn’t need to worry any longer. That no one was going to remember me. That all of it was in the past. A nightmare from which I had now woken up.

Gradually, I started to pick up my life again, although there was a constant undercurrent of fear, of paranoia. Going back to the gym was the first thing I did. Then I started to focus on studying again, although that was extremely difficult. I had a few Skype calls with my parents and my little sister again. I told them everything was okay, and used stressing about finishing college papers as an excuse for my absence. My parents were worried about that, while to me, that seemed to be the least of my worries. My best friend had noticed how I wasn’t really listening to her when we finally met up for some lattes again in the coffee place near the university, like we used to. I used the same excuse for being absent minded. Study stress.

As the weeks passed, there had been moments where I had forgotten all about it. I had thrown out all the things in my house that reminded me of the stupid, stupid thing that I did. The clothes, the ridiculous stripper shoes, everything. I had removed the piercing from my belly button and put it in the trash. The only thing left reminding me of that horrible adventure was that tattoo on my hip. I looked into getting it removed, but it seemed expensive, and even more so, mentally painful. I wasn’t able to face it. No more navel shirts or bikinis for me, I figured. I’d have to learn to live with it. Probably for a long time.

I didn’t want to maintain the landing strip between my legs anymore, so I shaved it all off. I didn’t want those memories anymore. I got a new haircut. Shorter. No more wavy long hair, shoulder length hair was going to be my new look. A Samantha that had nothing to do with the horrible things that had happened. I considered dyeing my hair, but I postponed it because I couldn’t decide on a color.

Even though my sleep was improving, every now and then I suddenly woke up screaming. I considered seeing a psychologist, but I didn’t know how to start a conversation like that. I couldn’t tell anyone about what had happened. I didn’t want to. The shame I felt about the things I had done ran very deep. I hoped the nightmares and the occasional anxiety attacks would simply wear off over time.

It was one of those nights where my mind had been at relative peace. I had been able to focus on studying, and with my hair still wet, dressed in a comfy white shirt and panties - I had even thrown out all my thongs except for a few - I walked to my desk to check for new messages on my phone. It felt as if I could feel the pulse of my heart in my throat. Three missed calls from an unknown number. I stood there paralyzed for about a full minute, trying to breathe, trying to calm down. It was as if something was in the air. My legs trembled as I went to sit on the couch, my heart beating like crazy. I tried to tell myself it was probably just some stupid marketing call center. Or some scam caller.

No voicemails had been left. I considered calling back, even if just to ensure that I was safe. But I didn’t dare to. I felt scared. Instead of finding out who it was, I turned off the light, and slipped into bed. I was going to hide in my bed. I was going to hide from life.

I was wide awake, in the dark. I tried to think of other things. Nice things. Beautiful things. Movies. Good memories. But just as I was trying hard, the phone buzzed on my nightstand. I cringed. The same number. No. I wasn’t going to pick up. I wasn’t there. I was going to pretend I didn’t exist. Tomorrow was going to be another day, and the calls would have stopped.

I was sweating, my heart was pounding, as I lied there in the dark, curled up under the sheets. No. This wasn’t happening. I wasn’t going to have it. I wasn’t going to let these evil people back in my life. Was it really them? Wasn’t there anyone else in the world who would have a reason to reach me urgently? An hour passed, while every minute seemed like an hour in itself. Every second I was afraid the phone would buzz again.

But something far worse happened. I felt a spasm in my body as I suddenly heard two loud knocks on the door. I cringed. Another knock.

“Open the fuck up, bitch.”

As scared as I was, in that moment I was more afraid of the neighbors finding a few gangsters at my door. I had no idea who it was, but I knew I’d better open the door quickly. I rushed out of bed, in my shirt and my panties, panicking as I heard yet another few knocks. My hand was shaking as I then opened the door of my apartment. I was instantly eye to eye with Big Mama, and a tall gangster I wasn’t sure I had seen before. My heart was racing, as I stood there speechless, while Big Mama’s piercing eyes seemed more furious than I had ever seen.

They just stood there for a few seconds, while I was frozen to the floor, before Big Mama stepped towards me, and without saying a word suddenly grabbed my hair, and dragged me into the hallway of my own apartment. I grimaced, while I noticed the tall gangster stepping inside as well, switched on the light, and closed the door. Big Mama, the small, scary old woman, roughly pushed me against the wall, and I could just turn my face in time so that my nose wasn’t bashed against the wall.

“We gonna have a little talk. About loyalty.”

I heard Big Mama from right behind me, as I felt her hand slip under my shirt, her fingers over my naked stomach as she reached up, higher, and without mercy, took my right nipple in between her fingers, and started twisting. I breathed fast, through my nose, while my legs were trembling. I thought about trying to push away her arm, to fight her, but fortunately my fear was stronger.

“All this time, we hear nothing from you. We call, you don’t pick up. Huh? You gonna explain why you think you don’t need to pick up the goddamn phone?”

She twisted harder in that bullying way, I squirmed, closed my eyes, clenched my teeth, squirmed again. The pain was intense, but I was too paralyzed by fear to even dare to move an inch.

She finally let go of my nipple, and her hand slid from my breast to my back under the shirt, roughly hooking her hand under the waistband of my panties, and I felt her hard knuckles rub over my bare cheeks before she pulled it down to my knees. My panties slid to my ankles, just before she forced my head down, lower and lower. I knelt on the floor, terrified. She didn’t let go of my hair. I felt how she had a firm grip around my hair while pushing my head down, forcing me on my hands and knees, and there I was, crawling with her as she started dragging me with her into my own living room, barely noticing how my panties slipped off my feet and were left in the hallway, barefoot with just my my wide shirt on, crawled up to my waist. I was in deep, deep shit.

She led me towards the couch, my own couch, and sat down on it while keeping a firm grip around my hair, forcing me to sit on my knees in front of her, and tugging my hair once again so I was looking directly into her fierce eyes. Those eyes I remembered so well, and had hoped to never ever have to see again. My fear made me blush, and my thighs were trembling.

She just kept looking at me, into my eyes at first, then down, while at the same time, I noticed how the tall gangster had approached me, and reached towards the hem of my shirt, roughly pulling it up, revealing my body, and as terrified as I was, I even stuck up my arms up, and Big Mama finally let go of my hair, only to let the shirt get pulled roughly over my head by the gangster behind me, and there I was, sitting fully naked on the floor of my own apartment, intimidated by the gangsters I wished I’d never have to deal with again. But she didn’t give me much time to think.

“Spread those goddamn legs!” she shouted, and right after, I felt a rough kick of her foot against my thigh. I cringed, and quickly opened my knees, which made me feel even more vulnerable than I already did.

I felt extremely tense while looking into her eyes, not daring to look away. Those eyes were demonic. As if she was accusing me of many things without saying anything. I sat there for seconds, while she just stared into my eyes, feeling my body shake, wanting to tell her I was sorry, for whatever it was I did or did not do, just to save myself from god knows what she planned to do with me.

While looking at Big Mama, I then felt the other gangster reach for my wrists, and I didn’t even have the time or capacity to think about what was happening as she then moved my hands to my back, holding my wrists firmly together, right before I felt something sharp tie around my wrists. I couldn’t move my hands anymore. I felt so scared that I felt I needed to pee.

Once my wrists were secured, it was the other gangster’s turn to grab my hair and pull it tightly, painfully even, with me still looking at Big Mama with my face tilted.

Big Mama’s eyes finally wandered down, over my now naked breasts, down to my stomach, her eyes lingering on my pussy, which for some reason felt so weirdly intimidating.

“Goddamn pretty white bitch...” she mumbled, while then hunching forward to me, and suddenly I felt a hard, sharp slap across my face.

“Pretty white bitch without goddamn respect, huh?!” she shouted again, I cringed, and another hard slap in the exact same place followed.

My jaw hurt like crazy, my cheek stung, but I was too scared to make a sound, while I felt a tear roll down my cheek. And another. I saw spots in front of my eyes, and for a second I thought I was going to pass out. T had slapped me like that once, back in the club, but the way Big Mama did it felt even more relentless, more violent.

Big Mama reached out, slowly, and took my chin in between her thumb and index finger, pushing, making me tilt my face even further, while I did not dare to look away from her piercing eyes, blurred by my tears, the reflection of pure evil.

“And there I was...” she started, her voice low and so threatening, “thinking this pretty little bitch was gonna be smarter than that. Thinking this bitch knew what her place was. Thinking this bitch was gonna be loyal ... turns out she’s just another ungrateful hoe.”

She paused, but kept looking at me. My head was pounding, and tears kept flowing down my cheeks, and I expected another crack every second.

“You been playing dead while the family’s going through some rough times, you been disrespecting. And I ain’t tolerating disrespect from anyone. Especially not a hoe.”

She paused again, before she raised her voice.

“Now there’s one thing worse than disrespecting, and you better tell me the truth, hoe.”

She reached out and suddenly grabbed my throat, squeezing it tight, I had trouble breathing.

“You been snitching? Huh? Answer the fuck up hoe. You been snitching?”

“No.” It must have sounded more like a squeal than a word.

“You better not be lying bitch, cause I’m gonna find out if you lied. I’m gonna ask you one more time. You been snitching, bitch?”

“No,” I squirmed once again.

She kept her grip around my throat for another few seconds, staring at me as if really wanting to make sure I was telling the truth.

“Take care of her,” she then said with a low, calm voice, while she finally let go of my throat.

I didn’t know what to think. I couldn’t think. But before I knew it, the gangster behind me yanked my hair, hard, and I had no choice but to stand up, my hands still bound by those sharp tie wraps behind my back. I started crying, I was desperate, terrified. What were they going to do to me!

“Please, please ... I didn’t tell anyone! Please!” I cried, as the gangster roughly yanked me with her through my apartment, away from Big Mama, as I looked back at her though the blur of my tears, my body heaving. But there was no time, no reversing her order.

“Please I’ll do anything! I didn’t tell ... I didn’t tell ... please...” I begged, but there was no way back.

The gangster dragged me into my apartment’s bathroom, and I felt so deeply scared. She was going to hurt me, I was sure of it. I remembered all too well how threatening T had been back in the club, even having one of the women show her scar to me. And now it was my time. What should I have even done!

“No, please ... I swear I didn’t tell ... please...” I kept crying as she pushed me inside, unable to move my hands, completely at the big gangster’s mercy.

She held me still, and reached in her pocket. A black plastic bag. Oh god no, no.

“No p ... pl...”

But it was too late, she was already pulling the plastic bag over my head, I had difficulty breathing already, and the idea of not being able to see what she was going to do frightened me even more. This was the end of it, the end of it all.

I felt how she pushed me forward, pushing me against the bathroom wall. My body was shaking as I stood there against the cold bathroom wall, naked, my hands tied, that bag over my head. Then I felt something strangle me. She was tying something sharp around my neck, and on top of barely being able to breathe, I felt that I couldn’t move my head anymore. She had tied my neck to ... something. I felt I was choking.

It was as if my life flashed before my eyes. My parents, my younger sister, my friends, my high school, the parties I had had. Was it really all going to end here? I felt myself fainting, in between flashes of memories.

Then I felt how she pulled my cheeks apart, and a second later, I felt something hard press against my anus. It was painful, but I barely even registered it. Then everything went dark.

There was no dream. Nothing. A long nothing.

When I woke up, the first thing that I noticed was the smell of food. I was in my bed, laying on my side, feeling very dizzy. As if my muscles were completely relaxed. It felt as if I had been under anesthesia.

The memories of what had happened before were slowly coming back, but somehow, now I didn’t panic.

After what seemed like half an hour, the tall gangster who had dragged me to the bathroom came walking into the bedroom, while eating from a box of Chinese food.

“Well look who finally woke up, if it ain’t the lucky girl,” the gangster smirked.

I just stared at her, and I heard foot steps. Big Mama joined her.

“Shit, that bitch lost it even before I got a chance to rip that ass.”

“Well maybe she’s smart after all...” Big Mama replied, without any sign of amusement on her face.

Big Mama stepped into my bedroom, and sat next to me on the bed, immediately pulling the sheets from my naked body, all the way down. She started stroking my outer thigh.

“Now, I hope I clarified things a bit for you. I think you gonna work a little harder, ain’t you, bringing in that bacon for the family.”

I was still scared of her, despite the drowsy feeling that I had, although it kept me from flinching when she calmly but surely reached under my knee, and lifted it, so that my thighs were spread apart. I obediently held that position, while she then slid her hand between my thighs, and casually started stroking my pussy.

“Yes Big Mama,” I said, with a tired voice. My body felt completely worn out, while I passively let her play with my pussy.

“Good ... I think maybe we can tell T the good news ‘bout her girl, she been asking about you.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant. Wasn’t T in jail? I had seen it on the news. But I was barely able to think, everything seemed to happen in a daze.

But then I heard Big Mama talking on the phone behind me.

“Sup T, I got a little surprise for you.”

“A surprise huh.”

Then she put the phone in front of my face, and lifted my arm as a sign to take it from her. A video call, and I could suddenly see T’s face right in front of me.

“Princess girrrl!”

I saw that all too familiar looking face, wearing something orange, probably a county jail uniform, smiling wide, something I had never seen T do.

“Damn I missed that pretty face, getting warmed up just thinking ‘bout you, babygirl. Been boasting ‘bout my baby in here, a lot! Damn you look good, you all naked for me baby? Is Big Mama taking good care of you? How ‘bout you point that phone down over that soft babygirl body of yours, gimme something to look at.”

I smiled faintly, out of politeness, out of fear, and then awkwardly pointed the phone down, towards my bare breasts, and down to my naked tummy. I didn’t dare to go further down, with Big Mama’s fingers still in between my legs, casually stroking my pussy.

“Mm that’s what I’m talking about babygirl, damn. Show me that pussy too baby, and those pretty legs. I wanna see them pretty feet too.”

Somewhat nervously, I then pointed it down, and I was sure she could see Big Mama’s fingers in between my legs.

“M-hm ... that’s it. Mama’s taking good care of you I see huh. No dick in that pussy yet, huh?”

“No...” I answered awkwardly. I hadn’t had sex ever since this whole gang nightmare.

“Mmm good, you gonna keep it that way, that pussy is no go area for dick. Maybe you should visit me in here some time, there’s so many of us we basically run this place, you know what I mean? Doll you up and we’ll play, have a good time. Can’t wait to feel that nice tongue again. Show off those legs and your feet babygirl, you look fucking hot.”

I continued pointing the phone camera down my thighs, down my legs, and even towards my bare feet, while I wondered if she was serious. Was she really expecting me to go down there, wherever she was?

“M-m-mmm. Maybe you can call me from time to time, my number’s changing a lot but you can always ask Big Mama, alright baby?”

“Mhm,” I answered, reluctantly, not feeling too sure about it. This was so awkward.

“Aight I gotta hang up baby. Show that sweet face one more time. You gonna take good care of Big Mama? Help us with our little cash flow problems?”

“Yeah...” I answered, even though I hardly knew what that meant, while pointing the phone back to my face so she could see.

“Call me again soon, yeah baby?”

“I will.”

And with that she ended the conversation, and Big Mama took the phone back from me.

“Alright now listen up,” Big Mama said as she reached from behind me and made me look over my shoulder to her by calmly grabbing my chin. “You’re gonna have a few obligations from now on. I want you to bring in three K every week. No dick, you heard T. There’s a phone on the kitchen counter, that’s the only phone you use when you work for the gang and when communicating with clients. When you leave the house for the gang, you don’t bring your own phone, you bring that phone. Is that clear to you.”

“Yes Big Mama,” I said, while trying to let whatever she said sink in, although I had trouble doing so, partly because of how drowsy I still felt.

“Good. Now there’s also some cash and a piece of paper with a few addresses on it. That’s where you gonna get your hair and nails done, and get some working clothes. When you go to those addresses, you tell them Mama sent you. You don’t mention no names, no nothing, that’s all you tell them.”

She paused, until I nodded, trying to process everything.

“Now sometimes there’ll be a message on the phone with an address you go to. That’s when we arranged a client for you. But that don’t mean you don’t arrange clients yourself. You better be working hard to get clients, new or existing. When you meet a client, you send the address and time to a contact called ‘C’ in the phone. You’ll get a message back when you’ll be picked up. You never go to a client on your own. Once a week you gonna deliver the money. Three K, every time, no exception. Once in a while I’m gonna need your company, and you also gonna be at the club only on female only nights to get more clients, those are a good opportunity for new clients so you better work hard to get them.”

I nodded again, while I felt the nerves in my body grow, as my new reality was sinking in. She was actually becoming my real pimp. And I was going to have to make real money. For her.

“You ain’t got to worry about paying your rent or any of that shit no more, Mama’s gonna make sure you got enough cash. In turn, you’re gonna help the family. You ain’t gonna reject anything a customer wants. All you do is upsell, never reject. If I ever hear about you rejecting shit, you’re gonna be in a lot of shit. Is that clear?”

She looked at me with those piercing eyes, and immediately I could feel that aggression again.

“Yes Big Mama.”

I wouldn’t have dared to disagree.

“Good,” she said after a pause. “Now you better sleep off them drugs, and start working hard tomorrow, with only female clients it’s gonna be a lot harder to bring in that three K. But you’re gonna work hard and prove your loyalty to the family this time, and if you don’t, a lot of bad shit will happen, not only to you. Is that clear.”

“Yes Big Mama,” I said, while my heart was pounding. They were very, very serious about this.

“Alright, keep a close eye on that phone and make sure you got work coming in. And work on your tan.”

And with that, she finally withdrew her hand from my pussy, and got up from the bed. Without a word, both Big Mama and the other gangster left my bedroom, and I could hear the apartment door slam shut.

I felt dizzy. And even though there was so much on my mind, I could not withstand what they gave me. I pulled up the sheets, and fell into a deep sleep.

I woke up the next day at around 1PM. I still felt tired when I got out of bed, but that feeling changed to one of intense stress when I saw the things Big Mama had put on the counter. An old fashioned burner phone with a charger, the piece of paper with the addresses she had mentioned, and 2000 dollars cash. My allowance for the month. Admittedly, it was much more than I needed, but even the fact that I’d receive money from that gang to facilitate my life made it feel even more as if I was starting to be controlled completely.

I turned on the phone. No messages. One contact in the contact list. “C”. The first few seconds I was relieved that there were no messages, but I quickly realized that this might be a bad thing. I had to make that, what, 3 thousand dollars per week! Three. Thousand. Where was I even going to start!

For some reason I felt desperately alone. All I had was this phone, and the goal for the money to be made. It felt as if I was completely on my own, with no one I could turn to for help.

With my thoughts all mixed up and my chest pounding, I finally decided that first I needed to take care of the things on the list. Hair, nails, clothes. Tan. All of it felt so surreal. To be ordered to take care of my body, rather than it being my own choice.

I quickly put some clothes on, and just as I was about to leave with the intention of using Maps to find the address, I realized that I was doing something for the gang, and that I couldn’t bring my own phone. I wasn’t sure if for this sort of thing the rule even applied, but I was too afraid to mess things up. I’d have to plan the route upfront, and then hope I’d find it.

Scribbling down the train and bus stops on the piece of paper, I left my apartment. The stress was killing me. For some reason it felt as if I had to hurry, while I really didn’t have a clear plan on how to go about all this. Three thousand within a week. How.

The first place on the list was the place where I’d pick up clothes, apparently. It turned out to be some small sex shop in an alley called Delicate Sins. I had to get this over with. I pushed the door open, and got inside. The place was cramped, full of sex toys, lingerie, DVDs even. Who even watches those? I felt awkward as I approached the counter, and there was an older woman with curly brown hair behind it. Was I just supposed to say what Big Mama had told me? What if she didn’t know what I meant, or who that even was? Wouldn’t it sound crazy?

“Hi,” I said, awkwardly trying to get her attention as she was doing something on her phone.

She looked up.

“Mama sent me,” I said, with my heart pounding.

She sighed, as if it was a burden for her.

“Follow me,” she then said, as she walked into one of the cramped lanes behind the counter that seemed to be the stockroom.

She stood still, looked me over, as if sizing me up, from head to toe, then bent towards a row in a rack of shoes, and handed me one white platform high heeled shoe. If I hadn’t worn shoes like that before, I’d be shocked. It was crazy what I had already been through, and to imagine that I had sworn off ever wearing such shoes again, and now being pulled right back in all of this felt deeply frustrating.

“Try this one on, bare foot.”

I bent down, and awkwardly unlaced my right sneaker, and took off my sock, after which I stepped into the very high heel.

“How does it feel?”

“Feels okay.”

She took another look.

“It’s too big, you’ll get tired walking in those pretty soon, honey.”

I just stood there, and she handed me another. She seemed more satisfied this time.

“Wait here, I’ll get your things.”

Apparently she knew enough even without asking my sizes, and I saw her collecting packages from the stockroom shelves, putting them into two large brown bags.

Meanwhile, I suddenly felt the burner phone buzz in my pocket. Nervously, I got it out, and noticed there was a message.

“Appointment tonight at 9PM for 2 hours, strip tease, pickup at 8PM.”

That was all it said. A customer. So this was what my life was going to be like? Getting messages on my phone, and having to be present? And did I have to answer them? And where was I going to be picked up?

“Thanks. You mean pickup at my place or...?” I typed back, while the woman in the store was still collecting things.

“Your place.” I received back almost immediately. I had no idea who this person was.

So tonight I was going to work again. Work. And to think I once started doing something similar just for kicks.

After another while, the woman came back, with the two large brown bags, filled to the rim, and handed them to me. They weren’t heavy, fortunately.

“If you need more, you just come back. Alright?”

“Okay.”

“Well, see you next time,” she said, as I stood there, pondering whether or not she would have to be paid. It seemed to be taken care of.

“Okay, thanks,” I said, and awkwardly made my way out of the store.

The next address was only a few stops from this one, and with two large brown bags, one on both hands, I got off the train at the second address. Another somewhat obscure place. An Asian beauty salon.

There weren’t any customers inside the place as I entered, and a small Asian lady came walking from the back, a questioning look in her eyes.

“Hi, Mama sent me.” I felt myself blush as I said it again.

“Nails and hair?”

I nodded. She took another look at me.

“Spray tan?”

I had never gotten a spray tan before as I was used to sunbeds, but I figured it’d actually be the quickest way. I didn’t feel like laying down for a long time with all my thoughts driving me crazy anyway. I nodded.

The next two and a half hours were spent in that place on getting my spray tan, the first time I was getting naked in front of someone in a while, her putting artificial, light pink nails on both my fingers and my toes, and getting my hair and eyebrows done. Having cut my hair a lot shorter than it was a few months ago, now it felt downright humiliating getting extensions in my hair that made me look like some kind of beauty doll. I was deeply conflicted about the transformation that was being forced on me.

The whole time, the Asian lady didn’t speak a word, which was fine by me, because I did not feel like talking at all. I simply worried constantly. What if there weren’t going to be enough customers? What would I do? I tried to think of people I could ask, but who did I really know? I promised myself to try really hard at the next club night. I simply had to, it seemed like my only chance.