Chapter 2

Gorp

Willow awoke abruptly when a man pushed her onto the floor of the green van and twisted her injured left knee. The pain was like a bolt of lightning surging through her whole left side. Her hands tried to go to her knee but jerked to a stop just below her chin. She thrashed around on the floor of the van trying to find some relief. Her eyes flew open and she could see her hands secured in manacles and chained to something around her neck. The shock of that was as painful as her twisted knee.

She was a slave.

That morning Willow had turned eighteen years old. In the past such birthdays were cause for celebration and congratulations. But for many young women, for those that were children of retched parents, it was a day to dread. On that day, young women could become commodities, bought and paid for.

Maybe they would be sold to someone that had taken a liking to them, especially if they were pretty and popular. More than one wealthy overindulged senior was given a brand new slave girl for graduation. And if that girl was the one he had been pining over for years, so much the better. She might have rejected him in the past but things could change, or be changed, quickly. A bargain made with a father or mother or both meant the young girl spent her first night as an adult being raped and whipped to the laughter and enjoyment of the young man and his friends. She might be passed around the frat when he went off to college, doing laundry, dishes, blowjobs and DP's for everyone in the house. The parents in the meantime would pay off the credit cards, enjoy that new TV or go for a drive in that new car their child's life and freedom had purchased.

Willow's mother liked to steal. Working in the small grocery just on the edge of the orchards and fields around Fresno had not allowed her all the pretty dresses and shoes she craved. Most women that get caught committing a crime like shoplifting were enslaved. But Willow's mother was considered by many to be the least attractive person they had ever met. The price to register her as a slave was not worth what they would get for her on the market and nobody wanted to fuck her for money. However the threat of enslavement was used to convince her that she had to make financial restitution. She had only one asset to sell. Willow.

A young girl should fetch a very good price on her eighteenth birthday. However Willow knew why her mother had avoided enslavement. Willow was determined to avoid it too. She tried to make herself as unappealing as possible. While she was taller than most girls at a little over five and a half feet, she did not wash her face or her hair. She did not exercise or watch what she ate. She was overweight by forty pounds and her skin was marked with pimples. Every boy at school made fun of her. She made sure no one would want her.

What she did not know was that it would not matter to her mother. Before Willow was awake on the morning of her eighteenth birthday, her mother had logged on to the Slave Registry website, put in Willow's social security number and had marked her as a slave. She had signed her over to the slave house in Fresno to be sold as a field worker or kitchen drudge, that was after she had lost her virginity to the highest bidder, and the second highest, and the third. Her mother could almost feel the $300 in her hand. She could finally be free of that store manager that had caught her stuffing red pumps in her overlarge purse.

Willow thought her mother was being nice on her birthday and driving her to school. A set of handcuffs was already attached to the seatbelt, (many cars came with this feature nowadays) and Willow was trapped. She cried and pleaded with her mother to not sell her and that she wanted to go the college and leave the hellhole known as Fresno forever. Her mother explained this was for the best, at least for her best. Maybe she would be sold outside Fresno? Won't that be great?

Words did not come out, just screams giving color to the betrayal and anguish Willow felt. She knew all was lost.

She screamed all the way to side entrance to the slave house near the tracks. When the car stopped, a huge ugly man was standing outside the passenger door holding a very utilitarian black ball gag. When Willow saw it she redoubled her screams until the ugly ogre shoved the ball gag in her mouth and buckled it in place.

"She is a virgin, right?" the ogre grunted.

"Yea, she is unplowed ground sure enough." her mother answered. "I was told it would be extra if she was. Like another hundred extra. I know she is nothing to look at but it must be worth something to bust her open, right? So I want the extra hundred, no a hundred and fifty more."

"You agreed to three hundred and that was before I knew she was so homely. I am not sure I can find someone to pay me the side money to bust her cherry she is so ugly. You are lucky I am sticking to my bargain at all!"

Ogre had Willow out of the car by then and turned her around to face away from him. She heard a click and she felt the cold blade of a knife at the back of her neck.

"Don't move an inch." He growled.

The blade slid between her neck and the top of her favorite green blouse, the one she had worn for her birthday. The blade parted the material and her bra in one smooth and well-practiced move. She tried to scream her embarrassment to being stripped outside but the gag made that sound like a gurgle. He then ran the knife down the outside of each leg of her jeans, cutting them and her panties down to just above her knee. He then put the knife away and ripped the jean legs the rest of the way down. He grabbed the waist of the pants and everything came off in one motion.