Oh shit!
My feet refused to move, disgust and dread locking me to the spot.
From behind, Oleg launched a kidney-punch, and fierce pain knifed through my whole body. I gasped, collapsing into the back of the limo, my face inches from Sergei’s crotch.
“Perfect!”
He laughed, gripping the back of my head and forcing my face against his zipper. He was hard and I gagged, trying to turn my face away.
“So ungrateful,” he laughed again.
There was a soft metallic click, and something cold pressed against the base of my skull. I knew it was a gun—knew it although I couldn’t see it. I froze, my heart pounding painfully.
“No one can see you through these tinted windows,” he said conversationally. “No one can hear you. And guess what? No one will care. Just another faceless, numberless, insignificant immigrant.”
He pressed the barrel of the gun so it dug into my flesh as it was dragged down my spine.
“All those pretty clothes I bought for you. Well, now I want you to thank me nicely,” he said pleasantly. “It’s not much to ask. Is it?”
The pressure was removed from my neck and I sat up cautiously, muscles bunched, ready to run.
Sergei smiled slyly.
“The doors are locked, but feel free to try them. Oh, you’re shaking. Poor boy. I’ll do it for you,” and he rattled the limo’s door handles. “See, locked.”
He leaned back against the seat, the gun still in his hand, his eyes trained on me. He was enjoying every part of this. He was sick in the head, getting off on the power trip. I thought I was going to die.
“Unzip my pants.”
My mouth was dry. I wanted to shout, but all that came out was a feeble croak.
“Fuck you!”
“That’s the general idea. Let’s start with me fucking your mouth.”
Ash
ALL I COULD do was glare at him, show him my disgust and hatred. My heart raced as the urge for fight or flight screamed inside me. Sergei huffed with impatience, then grabbed my hand and pinned it against the door with the gun.
“If I have to ask you again, I’ll break a finger. I’ll keep breaking them until you do what you’re told. Or maybe I’ll break your feet. You’re a dancer: tell me, Alja?, how many bones are there in the human foot? I know it’s a lot.”
I shook my head, breath hammering in my throat.
“Fuck you!” I said again, louder this time.
He slammed the gun barrel against my hand, snapping the bones of my pinkie finger.
White hot pain slashed through me and I shouted out, trying to pull away, but he slammed the gun again, and a loud crunch was the sound of my index finger breaking.
“I am not a patient man?” he growled, unzipping his pants and pulling out his straining cock. “Suck it!”
“I’ll bite off your fucking dick and spit it at you!” I shouted, my vision dipping with the agony from my shattered hand.
I was concentrating on trying not to pass out as I slumped into the corner, my eyes blazing with hatred. I was close to breaking, launching myself at the evil bastard. Only the black barrel of the gun pointing at my stomach stopped me.
I was panting, breaths fast and ragged, lips pulled back in a snarl, wishing I had the gun, wishing I could kill him and take this evil out of the world.
He sighed, pressing a button that lowered the panel between the backseat and the driver.
Sitting in the front was the girl from the airport, the young one, the one whose name I never learned. Tears streaked her face and one eye was swollen shut. Purple bruises colored her arms and neck, and her expression as she stared at me was pleading, desperate. Her mouth moved wordlessly.
Instinctively, I leaned toward her, but Sergei slapped my face casually, bringing my attention back to him.
“Suck me off and do it with a smile . . . or I’ll let Oleg finish her this time.”
Oleg put his massive hand around the girl’s neck and started to squeeze. Her eyes bulged, small blood vessels popped, turning the whites of her eyes red, but still fixed on me, still staring, begging me to save her. Her tiny hands clawed at Oleg, but the hulking man just laughed.
“Running out of time,” Sergei sing-songed.
“You sick bastard!”
I punched the back of the seat, impotent and furious.
“So my mother tells me,” he smiled. Then he glanced at the girl, and his smile widened. “Oh dear, she’s turning blue. I don’t think she’ll last much longer.”
The girl went limp in Oleg’s hands, but he didn’t let go. If anything, his massive fingers tightened around her slim throat and her body jerked.
Vomit burned in my throat, and the musky scent of his dick was putrid in the enclosed space.
The girl’s body jerked again and I cried out, but Sergei simply smiled and gestured at his bare cock with the hand that held his gun.
I squeezed my eyes shut so I didn’t have to look at the girl. Tears of outrage burned behind my lids.