Trap

“Calm down, Alina. It’s just me,” Berle’s voice soothed, calming me a bit.

She slowly let go of me and when I turned to face her, she had a cheeky look on a face. I was about to ask her how she got into my apartment when I remembered I had given her a spare key for nights she needed to sleep over when I’m not around.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” she apologized, pouting slightly.

I chuckled lightly, the tension easing off my shoulders a bit.

“It’s okay, Bee. But, what are you doing here?” I asked, walking over to my dressing table to drop the few items I had taken from my bag at the club.

Berle fumbled her hands as she looked at me. “ I kinda need your help with something.”

“What’s that?” I queried, sitting on my bed.

“I need you to follow me to get something from someone. Money, from a dealer I sold my mother’s jewelry to. He told me to come collect it tonight, but I don’t want to go alone,” she pleaded, looking at me with doe eyes.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost ten pm.

“Tonight?” I asked, my brows furrowed in confusion.

She nodded, her eyes still pleading. “Please, you know I need the money. I have to pay those gangsters off before they do something bad to my brother.”

My shoulder drooped in surrender at the mention of her brother. He had gotten into some trouble with some drug dealers in the shadier part of town, and now, they’re after his life. And possibly hers too. Worst part was that he was all she had.

“Alright, Berle.” Before I could even complete my statement, she shrieked and jumped on me, pulling me into a suffocating hug.

“Thank you so much. You know I love you,” she shrieked excitedly.

I just laughed at her childish excitement. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get going.”

She got off me and we wasted no time in heading out. We were yet to discuss anything about the leaked video circulating all over school, and I was yet to tell her that I was now free from Madame Caryn’s oppression, but I guess it could wait till lol we got back.

We strolled into a rundown cafe in the less busy part of the street that looked like it was inhabited by hobos. Berle walked towards the receptionist and they discussed in hushed tones. A subtle unease gnawed in my stomach, but I shook it off. It was just probably the environment having its effect on me.

The man at the reception gestured to the back, then Berle turned to face me, silently beckoning me to follow her.

Hesitantly, I went along with her as she led me through a series of doors. It seemed like she was already familiar with the place given how easily she moved.

The last door she opened led outside, right at the back of the building. She then stopped and turned to face me abruptly.

Then suddenly, I felt a hand wrap around my waist and another around my mouth. Berle just stood there, looking at me with a questionable smile blooming on her face.

“Dumb girl. You fell right into my trap.”

My heart sank to the pits of my stomach. I couldn’t talk, but I muffled ‘What’s going on?’ against the palm of the man behind me.

She seemed to have understood what I said because she burst into laughter.

“Can’t you see? I lead you here so I could sell you to them.”

My eyes flew as wide as saucers. Sell me? But what did I do to deserve that?

She took a step closer to me, a scowl forming on her face.

“You were always the star girl, the pretty one everyone wanted. Everyone seemed to like you, Ryan Seymore approached you out of all the girls drooling over him. Even Madame Caryn treated you like a special whore even though I had worked for her for years,” she seethed, her hands vibrating beside her. “But now, it’s my turn to shine. No one would hear of Alina Lyubov ever again.”

As I tried to struggle to break loose of the impossibly tight grip, I felt something being pulled over my face, followed by a choking smell.

Slowly but surely, my consciousness slipped out of my grip, and I felt myself being whisked away.

“Bye-bye, Princess,” Berle’s voice whiffed into my mind. That was all I could hear before I drowned into the darkness that beckoned.

*****

At first, all my senses could process was the chilly air that bit hard on my skin. Then, slowly, my memories rushed to me, and I held back tears, having processed them all. I've been sold. Betrayed by someone I had trusted with my life.

I tried sitting up and removing some strands of my hair plastered to my face, and that's when a realization hit me. I've been stripped of every article of clothing, and I'm lying on the cold, bare floor naked.

Petrified, I tried standing, but my leg brushed over a warm leg, and then I sensed a presence in the room; I wasn't alone.

Abruptly, I heard a metal door creaking, followed by a flood of light that streamed into the dark room, piercing my sight. Standing at the door were several heavily built men, and they rushed into the room, dragging some people up the floor, women.

One grabbed me by the hand and helped me to of ladies walking in front of me. What petrified me the most was the fact that all of us were nude, but we were being escorted to God knows where, by men!

We slowly moved through a dimly illuminated hallway into a very bright and busy room. Several people were running around, making the place look rowdy and disorganized.

Some women were wearing clothes, if I could call it that. It was made of a transparent fabric I knew too well; it hid nothing when worn. A few men and women were helping them with their hair and makeup, making them look like whores, and I guess I would soon too.

"This is the special batch; they're all tested and proven to still have their hymen intact," one of the men leading us said out loud.

My knees became wobbly when I heard that they had carried out virginity tests on us while we were unconscious. That means... shook my head to dislodge the thought; I don't think my heart can take it.

"Fabulous! Don't worry, gentlemen, I'll take it from here", a crossdresser said to us. He reminded me of John, the man Madame Caryn employed to teach us pole dancing.

The heavily built men walked away one after the other, the last one closing the door behind him and leaving us with this man.

"Come along, ladies, take a seat; my boys will attend to you," he led us further into the very large dressing room.

I looked back to see if I could possibly find a way to escape, but standing on either side of the door were large men armed with guns, so l thought against it.

Facing forward, a man grabbed my hand and led me to a corner; then, he tossed the transparent dress at me. From the look on his face, I knew he expected me to wear it, and I did so wordlessly.

Oddly, I noticed that I didn't see any man look Oddly, I noticed that I didn't see any man look lustfully upon any of the women around me, they were all beautiful women. It was like they were used to seeing it, unmoved.

When I was done, he rolled over a chair to face me, and I sat down obediently. He straightened my hair with an iron comb and quickly helped me with my makeup.

"Done," he waved, and when I looked at who he waved at, I saw another buffed man walking up to me. He grabbed my arm roughly and led me to a line of women.

The line moved slowly, but soon enough, I was behind a huge curtain, and I could hear some voices behind it, like roaring, drunk men.

Everything playing out in front of me reminded me of the strip club, though then, I had my own free will, kinda.

"Bring in number one hundred and nine," a voice boomed from in front of me. The goon beside me pushed me through the curtain, leading me to a wide podium.

A man wearing a green suit stood, waiting for me with a wide smile. I had expected to see the stranger instead. The goon pushed me forward, his grip still firm on my arm.

I looked around the lavish hall only to meet more unfamiliar faces; no more than about fifty people were present.

They all looked like distinguished men, drunk maybe but of no mean status, regardless.

"Now let's begin with this one, an American citizen but of Russian heritage. Twenty-five years old", the man said in a disembodied voice.

I wondered how the man knew all that about me. When I turned to face him, I noticed a tiny chip in his ear; someone must have told him all that. That made sense.

"There's an added; she's untouched, so her worth is increased," he said, causing goosebumps on my skin and the crowd to cheer.

Chatter and whistles filled my ears, increasing my anxiety. Virgins seemed to be given a higher preference in gatherings like With the announcement of the host, people started bidding.

“One million.”

"Five million."

"Ten million.”

As the people bid up, I became more and more nervous. My eyes stung with tears, and I could feel a trace of stoic resentment rise inside of

me.

"50 million," the auction fell silent.

"Anyone with a higher bid?" the auctioneer called, but the entire hall maintained its pin-drop silence.

"Fifty million. Going once. Going twice. Sold to Lord Nikolai Ruslan", the auctioneer announced. My breath hung in my lungs when I heard that name.

Wasn't that the name of the man at the club?

My eyes rummaged through the hall, searching for him, and then they caught a television screen to my right. When I looked at it, I saw him somewhere in the hall, seated regally with a proud smile on his face.