Page 101 of Fearless

My eyes widen at the sight of the collar around her throat. It’s tight. Too tight. It’s attached to a metal chain that leads to the man standing with a leather paddle behind her.

Pain and fear darken her eyes as tears drop from her jaw, splashing in a puddle beneath her.

Thwack.

She bites down on the inside of her cheeks as pain assaults her body.

The man hits her another two times. Neither of which she reacts to other than to rock forward on her hands and knees.

The man is wearing just a pair of dress slacks, his skin slick with sweat and a feral look in his eyes.

My entire body trembles as I continue to watch.

With every hit, I see a little more of her die.

There is no life in her eyes, just pain and despair.

These girls don’t want this. I can feel it deep down in my soul. I can see it in their eyes, in the bruises on their bodies.

“Fuck yes,” a man to my right roars, and when I look over, he’s snorting coke off of one of the dancer’s pussies while the other girl watches him with longing. “You want some, whore?” he asks, swiping his fingers through the other’s folds and collecting up the left behind powder.

I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone look so desperate for a hit than that girl.

He holds his fingers up, offering the small amount of drugs, and she moves toward it like they’re magnetized.

But just before she’s in touching distance, he drags his hand away and reaches for her arm with his other hand.

“This isn’t enough for you though, is it?” he asks, exposing her scarred forearm.

Bile swirls in my stomach, threatening to make an appearance.

“Be a good little whore for me and my boys and you might just get what you need tonight.”

The girl fidgets on her feet, the promise of a hit too much for her.

I run my eyes down her naked body.

She’s skin and bones, and covered in cuts and bruises.

They all are.

There is nothing healthy about any of them.

The man trails his fingers over the scars, taunting her.

“You want this?” he asks, holding his fingers up again.

She nods. Too desperate to deny herself.

A sinister smile pulls at the man's lips and my stomach plummets.

“Good. Get on your knees,” he demands, and she instantly drops, mimicking his stance.

One of his friends laughs at her instant submission.

“This one is going to be fun,” he announces. “She’s going to break so beautifully. Bleed so beautifully.”

My fists curl, my nails digging into my palms with such force, I’m pretty sure I’ve drawn blood.

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