Page 2 of Darkest Sin

Without warning, something flashes in his eyes, and his hand shoots through the bars and grips my throat. “You want to put up a fight, little girl? I’ll give you something to fight about.”

My heart races, fear filling my veins as my airway narrows, but there’s no way in hell I’m about to let this asshole get the best of me. My arm snaps out, my fingers knotting into his thinning hair, and with every last bit of strength I possess, I yank him hard toward me, his nose crushing against the metal bars of the cage.

He roars out in pain, and as blood gushes from his nose, he releases me to clutch his face. “You bitch,” he spits, gaining the attention of the men around him. Some of them who’d disregarded me before now watch me with keen interest.

The old man reaches for me again, but I spring back out of the way, my back slamming against the bars of my cage. He goes to say something when the big burly security guard from the door shoves him back, stepping in front of the cage and blocking my view. “You know the rules,” he grumbles, in a thick accent I can’t place. “Touch the girls before purchase, and you’ll lose your right to bid.”

“She broke my fucking nose,” he argues. “What am I supposed to say to my wife?”

“Tell her you’re a handsy fuck who got his ass beat by some bitch,” he says, shoving him back. “You want to touch, you pay up first.”

“I want her punished,” he insists, making my back stiffen.

“Not my fucking problem,” he growls. “Purchase her first, then do whatever the fuck you want to her. Until then, keep your hands off.”

With that, the security guard gives him another shove, pushing him deeper into the crowd, leaving me to the slew of men who probably have some fucked-up rape fetish. These are the kind of guys who get off on beating women. I know their type from years of working at the bar. Holding down a woman and taking what they want makes them feel big. These are the type of men who play sick games when they think no one is looking, but I’d rather die than be one of their toys.

Another man approaches, maybe mid-fifties, and while he doesn’t look as wicked as the last, there’s definitely something poisonous in his eyes. “You know how to fuck, girl?” he questions, his gaze narrowing as he glances at my body.

I scoff. There’s no way in hell I’m entertaining this line of questioning. “Why don’t you go home and fuck your wife?”

His gaze narrows as he lifts his chin, making some kind of assumption about me. “Virgin then?”

Ah, this man has particular tastes. Why am I not surprised to find men with virgin kinks in here? He’s definitely looking in the wrong place if that’s what he thinks he’ll be getting from me. I like cock. Big ones, small ones, angry, and pierced. But the ones with that slight curve, goddamn, they’re my favorite. I wouldn’t call myself a slut exactly, but I’m not known for being shy when it comes to asking for what I need. Though, there’s no way in hell the men in this room will ever know that.

Glancing away, I let him make up his own mind about me, and when he scoffs in distaste, I find myself looking back. “You’re just a common whore, aren’t you?” he says, almost sounding disappointed. “What about your ass? Ever had someone claim that?”

Realizing he won’t stop until he knows just how many cherries I’ve popped, I step right into the bars, letting my tits squish up against the cold metal. “You’re right. I’m nothing but a common whore, the perfect little slut. I’ve had more cocks buried in my ass than you could imagine,” I tell him. “I’m not the sweet little innocent bitch you’re looking for.”

He watches me for a moment longer, and when he finally steps away, I feel a weight dropping off my shoulders. As he walks away in disappointment, I realize my mistake. I should have played the part of a little angel. He would have purchased me, taken me home, and fucked me until I bled, but then it would have been over. He would have been done with me. I would have been thrown aside and he’d be out searching for the next innocent girl. Instead, one of the other sick men will own me and use me until there’s nothing left to give.

While it would have been the worst moment of my life, it might have been my only chance at freedom.

Glancing around the room, my gaze sweeps past the bar to find the asshole with the broken nose, his lethal stare locked onto mine, and I know without a doubt he’s not going to let this go. He’ll be bidding on me tonight, and he won’t stop until he wins.

Swallowing hard, I try not to let my hands shake, but it’s like asking myself for the impossible. My heart races erratically, pounding in my ears and drowning out the sounds of the underground warehouse.

I need this to be over. I need to get out of here.

Gripping the bars again, I try not to cry. I’ve been doing what I can to fend these assholes off, but in doing that, I’m only forcing their attention on the other girls in the room. The nasty tone and bite in my words aren’t real, and it will only be so long until one of these assholes sees right through my facade to the scared little girl hidden within.

Time seems to slow, and I feel as though I’ve been standing here for hours. With everyone confident about where they want to place their bids, most of the men in the room have resigned to talking shit between themselves while sipping on their drinks, leaving us girls in peace. However, that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve felt their sickening stares on my body all night long.

My feet ache in these heels, and I’m on the brink of passing out when a loud static squeal of a microphone tears through the warehouse. My blood turns cold as an auctioneer takes his place on a pedestal overlooking the crowd. “Gentlemen, if I could kindly have your attention. Tonight’s event is about to commence.”

2

CHIARA

As if on cue, the bidders begin shuffling toward the auctioneer, abandoning their conversations as the men they were just talking to suddenly become their greatest competition. As I watch them move around the warehouse, I realize this isn’t just a case of highest bidder takes all. It’s a pissing contest, proving to the elite men around them who has the deepest pockets.

Once everyone is where they need to be, the auctioneer gets on with it. “Standard auction rules apply,” he says into his microphone. “Raise your hand to make a bid. We’re moving up in hundreds with a starting bid of five hundred thousand. No half bids permitted. Once the auction has finished, all winners will be required to make payment within the hour before they will be permitted to collect their prize. We will accept cash or a wire transfer, considering immediate clearance in our account. If you do not possess the funds or cannot arrange payment within the hour, then you are not permitted to bid. Do not waste our time. Otherwise, your name will be blacklisted, and you will not be invited to attend another event.”

He glances around the room, making sure his instructions are received clearly before waving a hand toward the first girl, her nameplate reading Stacey. “Alright, I know you are all eager to get this started. So, without further ado, let’s start the bidding. For our first girl of the night, Stacey, do I hear five hundred thousand?”

“Right here,” someone says, raising their hand. My gaze snaps across the room to find the asshole with the virgin kink eagerly watching the auctioneer. He clearly found what he was looking for.

“Six hundred,” another man responds, prompting the auctioneer to do his thing, his voice like nails on a chalkboard as he seeks new bidders.

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