A moment later a slightly younger man with longer hair entered the room.
“Sí, Se?or Ruiz?” His voice was eager, and when he glanced over and saw me he stilled, a look of interest in his eyes.
“I need you to test out this girl so I may see if she’s trainable,” Marco explained in Spanish. “Be careful. Fernando fucked her last night. And she only speaks English.”
Luis nodded and wet his lips, stepping toward me, popping open the button on his pants.
No. Oh, God, no. This was not happening. Luis’s body language became seductive as he moved toward me, and I couldn’t help but pull my legs toward my body.
He sat on the edge of the bed next to me and spoke gently.
“You are very pretty.” His dark eyes roamed my face. He wasn’t bad looking, but I was still repulsed by his touch. Looks meant nothing to me after falling for Fernando’s ruse. When Luis reached out to touch my cheek I went stiff and forced myself not to pull away. I would not react to any of his touches.
“That’s it,” he said with false gentleness. “You be good, an’ I make you feel good, yeah?” He spoke softly and sweetly, but it wasn’t real. It was like someone trying to lure an animal who might bite.
I had a choice to make. Failing this test would mean death. Passing would mean sexual slavery. Both options were inconceivable. If I fought against this, how would they choose to kill me? How long would it take? I’d never been good with pain. The very idea of that man attempting to take the life from my body filled me with an almost paralyzing fear. I wanted to be the tough kind of person who could choose death, but everything inside me screamed to live. So when Luis gently pulled my ankle, I let him.
He straightened both my legs and grasped my waist, lowering my body to a laying position with my hand outstretched above my head, still cuffed to the headboard. I tried to drape my other arm over my eyes, but Luis lifted it and stretched it up along side the bound arm. He murmured sweet things, which he probably thought were very soothing, as he unbuttoned my skirt and pulled it down my legs along with my underwear. I pressed my knees together.
My heart was working overtime now, and my breaths were too short.
“Muéstranos las tetas,” Marco’s partner said. Show us her tits.
Remaining gentle, Luis pushed my shirt up. I had on a strapless bra, so he slid his hands behind my back and easily unclasped it. I whimpered and turned my face to the wall when I was exposed to the men.
“Too small,” the man said in Spanish. “She’ll need implants.”
Luis took my breasts in both his hands and kneaded them.
“Demasiado peque?o?” Too small? Marco asked.
Luis answered in Spanish, his voice lower than before. “Nah. A nice little palmful. Firm.”
I was a full B-cup, and I couldn’t help but feel resentful as they picked apart my appearance like a farm animal for sale.
“We have big-breasted women,” Marco explained. “Might be nice to have a natural, smaller girl.”
The other man laughed. “Put her in some pigtails and a school girl uniform and you’ll have a best seller.”
They both chuckled, but as Luis leaned down and took one of my nipples in his mouth, making me accidentally gasp with surprise, they quieted. I refused to enjoy the feel of his mouth on me. No matter how kind he was being, knowing those men were watching made me tense and sick. I couldn’t relax.
When I felt Luis’s weight lift off the bed I made the mistake of looking to see what was going on. He was stripping. Naked. Hard.
Marco stood with his arms crossed, watching critically, while his friend leered. I wished so much they would leave. Especially my would-be murderer.
Luis’s weight dipped the bed once again and I began to pant with fear. I couldn’t seem to control it. I pulled at the cuffs, whimpering.
Calm down, Angela, I scolded myself.
“Shh.” Luis bent and kissed my neck, taking my breast in his hand again. He pulled away long enough to wet two fingers with his saliva and bring them down to my center. “Open your legs,” he said softly.
In that moment, as I gave in to save my life, I felt far more broken than I had in my drug-induced state when Fernando forced me. Because I had fought him. And now I was allowing it. I’d never been more disgusted with myself than I was when I let my knees fall open and Luis touch me with his wet fingers. He climbed on top of me, seeming pleased with my cooperation. But even with the moisture from his fingers I was too dry.
He pushed in and I bit my lips against a cry. Tears fell as he worked his way in and out, shushing me quietly, until I was finally wet enough for him to really move.
“Ah, pretty girl,” he said, wiping my tears as he moved above me. “Why you cry when a man make love to you?”