Page 13 of Loki
“Walk across the hall into the room!” the angry man barked.
With no hesitation, like sheep we followed one another across the hall into a room. A much larger room filled with racks of clothing that lined one wall, and five vanities that lined the other. The smell of perfume and cigarette smoke hung heavy in the air.
“Welcome ladies!” a woman called out, clapping her hands with an unmistakable frown on her face as she looked us over. “I am, Madame Angeline Bardot. You may refer to me as Madame Bardot, and I’m here to get you somewhat presentable for our esteem guests,” she said with her top lip curled as she continued to scan our bodies. “You will do as I say or face the consequences.”
As a horde of women rushed into the room and started pulling dresses from the racks, I watched as Madame Bardot pulled on a cigarette that was attached to a long black cigarette holder like you see in the old black and white movies.
All the women’s eyes widened as the women tugged them in various directions, searching for the perfect dress that fit their bodies, messing in their hair, and doing their makeup.
What the hell is going on?
As Madame Bardot’s gaze met mine, she gracefully approached me, her steps deliberate and confident in her designer red heels and black pantsuit.
The young girl clung to my arm. Her jagged nails dug into my skin causing me to hiss, but she didn’t release her grip and I didn’t blame her.
Madame Bardot was intimidating. With her bright red lipstick, dead eyes immaculately highlighted with dark blue eye shadow, and long lashes covered in mascara, it looked like she was staring straight through you. Everyone in this place was terrifying.
She looked to be in her early fifties but her extensive cosmetic surgery, from lip and cheek fillers, and possibly Botox was very noticeable, so I doubt she was that young. Her hair hung passed her shoulders in deep dark waves like some 1940s actress and her pale skin was highlighted by a light pink blush on her cheeks.
“Ah, Ms. Honoré.” She walked around us, scanning our bodies then stopped back in front of me. “Your dress as well as Lila’s has been personally picked out by the boss.”
Lila.
The look of shock on my face was mirrored on Lila’s as she clung to my arm, her nails continuing to burrow into my skin.
Madame Bardot snapped her fingers summoning her minions and two women scurried over to us holding very expensive looking dresses.
“As a woman, how can you be a part of this?” I asked with as much confidence as I could muster. “I expected men to be involved in this kind of bullshit but definitely not women.”
“We all have a purpose here, Ms. Honoré. Your reasoning for being here is different from mine. And for your own best interests,” she said, watching as the women dressed both me and Lila, “do not fight what is to come. Keep your mouth closed unless someone speaks to you and do what you’re told. If you do, you’ll make it out of this place alive. If you don’t, then you’ll leave, but only in a body bag. And only after every man in this place fucks you until you take your last breath and possibly after.”
She stepped away then headed towards the door. “You have ten minutes to be presentable for our guests,” she called out over her shoulder, before she disappeared out of the room.
Haunting classical music played by a string quartet filled the space, as at least a hundred people mingled in tuxedos and beautiful gowns, sipping champagne and wine served on silver platters by naked men and women. Laughter and dancing filled the air, like this was just another ordinary dinner party, not the hell that it actually was.
Other attendees were scantily dressed, groping, kissing, and fucking each other paying no mind to the onlookers openly gawking at them. Maybe they were a part of the show?
Sitting in a red high-back chair, a woman exuded an air of regality, like she was a queen on her throne. Her long red hair cascaded down her bare shoulders. Her dark burgundy gownwas pushed above her slender hips, the top pulled down under her bare breasts, as a man hungrily ate her pussy, while another man stood beside them, jacking off while watching the show.
It was like we had stepped into a different world other than where we’d been kept for however long I’d been held hostage. These people were partying and having a great time like we wouldn’t be hauled back to a cage full of brutality.
As I looked around at the sea of faces, Madame Bardot’s strict instructions echoed in my ears, reminding me not to engage in conversation unless spoken too and to maintain impeccable behavior. What she said in so many words was do not ask for help because no one in this room was here to help us. They were here only to enjoy our misery. If we did the opposite, the consequences that would follow were ones I’d rather not think about.
I hate myself for giving into their every demand and not fighting. It was like I’d given up. It went against every instinct within me. I’d been raised to always fight for what was right, fight for myself, and never let anyone run over me. It was something I’d struggled with every time I opened my damn eyes in this hell hole. But right now, surviving was what I needed to do. And surviving meant not fighting, keeping my head down as much as possible until I could make a move.
As lustful moans and grunts intertwined with classical music and laughter, it was hard to imagine how all these people were able to walk around freely participating in this horror show. You’d think that the FBI or at least the police would know this was happening.
Once I started investigating this story, I didn’t realize how deep it actually went. But by the amount of money and power walking around this room, I could have never imagined something as depraved as this and on this scale.
Powerful businessmen, celebrities, household names were involved in one of the cruelest things I’d ever experienced and witnessed, without a care in the world. And by the smiles on their faces, and the lustful looks in their eyes, they regretted none of it. They didn’t give a shit what happened to us as long as they got their fix.
As I stood there, several men and a few women walked by us, their eyes openly fixated on mine and Lila’s revealing dress.
The dress, with its shimmering black crystals, hugged my body and extended all the way to the floor. However, it was completely see-through, and I wasn’t allowed to wear anything underneath. Depending on the angle of the light, the shimmering fabric revealed the silhouette of my private area and the dark shade of my nipples. It was catching a lot of unwanted attention, which I was sure that was the intent.
As far as the other women being held captive with me, their dresses where different versions of short, form fitting strapless dresses. Much like a slinky cocktail dress. Whereas my dress and Lila’s were the only ones that differed.
Lila’s was the same design as mine except it was sheer white material covered in clear diamonds. She also was not allowed to wear any undergarments and because of her dark skin, the silhouette of her body could be seen more than mine.
