to get chicks. And what was an easier way than just buying a woman outright? I tried not to think about what was about to happen around me, and stood off to the side of the stage. Vlad was at the other end, a few guys from different crews were dotted around the room. I didn’t expect trouble, in all it would be an easy job, if not for the fact that I was about to see women sold into sexual slavery.
Mr. Black wasn’t there, and I was thankful for that, though if I was there, I knew he had his fat fingers into the pie somewhere, and he was profiting off the night. I tried to push it from my mind as the first woman was brought out.
I was expecting them to pull the cages out, but they didn’t. A man brought a woman out, bound at the wrist with thick rope. She was beautiful, wearing a short dress with a plunging neckline. I guessed that she was thirty or a bit older, and then the bidding started.
Men in the audience, standing in front of the stage, held up small paddles. An auctioneer was on the stage, standing next to the woman. It was over in a matter of minutes. An old man with a lazy eye I didn’t recognize bought the thirty-year-old for thirty thousand dollars. It was a lot of money to me, but somehow it didn’t seem as though it was enough for someone’s life.
The night wore on; women were paraded out, one after the other. All of the pretty, none of them older than that first woman . I tried not to look at them, and didn’t for long, but as they were led through the door at the back of the stage, I would steal a glance. I couldn’t help it. I had to see them, if only for a moment.
Then she walked through. I didn’t know her of course, but something about her struck me. She was gorgeous. She seemed a few years younger than me. She had dark olive skin and dark hair. Her eyes were the brown of a coffee with too much milk in it. She wasn’t American; I could tell that just by looking at her. She was Mediterranean . She had to be from Greece or someplace similar.
The young woman was wearing a short dress, much like the first one had been. She was curvy, with well-defined hips and large breasts which pushed at the top of her dress. Her nipples were hard, natural in the chilly warehouse. She looked terrified. Her lips were plump and sensual, and they were pulled into a tight frown. I saw her, and I felt as though I had known her for years.
The bidding was fast and furious on her. It got up to fifty thousand, and the next thing I knew it was at seventy thousand. I thought quickly. I had a couple hundred thousand in the bank. Not bad for a grunt like me. I knew how to save. The bidding was up to one hundred and fifteen thousand when it started to slow. I stepped forward just before the auctioneer could award the olive skinned woman to a fat guy with a bad combover.
“One hundred twenty thousand,” I said.
Silence. Every face turned towards me. I ignored them and stepped to the woman. I looked to the fat man with the bad hair, to see if he would bid more. He didn’t.
“Sir,” the auctioneer started. “That’s quite a sum.”
“I’m good for it,” I growled. Vlad made his way over to me from the other side of the stage.
“What are you doing kid?” He asked.
“What I can,” I said. I was saving the beautiful woman. Saving her from that horrid fat man, saving her from a horrible life. I had to do something. I had to do something for her. I pulled my checkbook out of my pocket. I wrote a check and handed it to the auctioneer, and then I took the woman by the hand and undid the rope there at her wrist. When she was free, I took her by the hand and pulled her off the stage.
“Kid,” Vlad said to my back. He trailed off, but there was a lot of unspoken meaning. I knew what he was saying, and I didn’t care. I led the woman outside, and then across to my car. I helped her in and then climbed behind the wheel. I looked over to her. She was terrified.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I said, wishing
Mr. Black wasn’t there, and I was thankful for that, though if I was there, I knew he had his fat fingers into the pie somewhere, and he was profiting off the night. I tried to push it from my mind as the first woman was brought out.
I was expecting them to pull the cages out, but they didn’t. A man brought a woman out, bound at the wrist with thick rope. She was beautiful, wearing a short dress with a plunging neckline. I guessed that she was thirty or a bit older, and then the bidding started.
Men in the audience, standing in front of the stage, held up small paddles. An auctioneer was on the stage, standing next to the woman. It was over in a matter of minutes. An old man with a lazy eye I didn’t recognize bought the thirty-year-old for thirty thousand dollars. It was a lot of money to me, but somehow it didn’t seem as though it was enough for someone’s life.
The night wore on; women were paraded out, one after the other. All of the pretty, none of them older than that first woman . I tried not to look at them, and didn’t for long, but as they were led through the door at the back of the stage, I would steal a glance. I couldn’t help it. I had to see them, if only for a moment.
Then she walked through. I didn’t know her of course, but something about her struck me. She was gorgeous. She seemed a few years younger than me. She had dark olive skin and dark hair. Her eyes were the brown of a coffee with too much milk in it. She wasn’t American; I could tell that just by looking at her. She was Mediterranean . She had to be from Greece or someplace similar.
The young woman was wearing a short dress, much like the first one had been. She was curvy, with well-defined hips and large breasts which pushed at the top of her dress. Her nipples were hard, natural in the chilly warehouse. She looked terrified. Her lips were plump and sensual, and they were pulled into a tight frown. I saw her, and I felt as though I had known her for years.
The bidding was fast and furious on her. It got up to fifty thousand, and the next thing I knew it was at seventy thousand. I thought quickly. I had a couple hundred thousand in the bank. Not bad for a grunt like me. I knew how to save. The bidding was up to one hundred and fifteen thousand when it started to slow. I stepped forward just before the auctioneer could award the olive skinned woman to a fat guy with a bad combover.
“One hundred twenty thousand,” I said.
Silence. Every face turned towards me. I ignored them and stepped to the woman. I looked to the fat man with the bad hair, to see if he would bid more. He didn’t.
“Sir,” the auctioneer started. “That’s quite a sum.”
“I’m good for it,” I growled. Vlad made his way over to me from the other side of the stage.
“What are you doing kid?” He asked.
“What I can,” I said. I was saving the beautiful woman. Saving her from that horrid fat man, saving her from a horrible life. I had to do something. I had to do something for her. I pulled my checkbook out of my pocket. I wrote a check and handed it to the auctioneer, and then I took the woman by the hand and undid the rope there at her wrist. When she was free, I took her by the hand and pulled her off the stage.
“Kid,” Vlad said to my back. He trailed off, but there was a lot of unspoken meaning. I knew what he was saying, and I didn’t care. I led the woman outside, and then across to my car. I helped her in and then climbed behind the wheel. I looked over to her. She was terrified.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I said, wishing
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