There were four of them. Four young women standing in front of potential buyers. Amalia glanced at the guards that watched their every step, making sure they didn’t try to escape.

They must have drugged her. All she remembered was hanging out with her friends at the rave. Dancing. Having fun. Trying to pretend she was just like any other young woman going out and enjoying herself. Only to end up here in what looked more like pure hell than the party she was supposed to be attending.

The buyers were seated in a long row in front of them. Glancing up at the small podium each woman had been placed on. She considered her chances of escape. They were next to nothing. Too many men around. Some even wore guns holstered under their shoulders. She knew the guards didn’t want to spoil the wares. Didn’t want to leave marks.

Still, they had found other ways to restrain her when she tried to escape earlier. The instant pain from the stun gun had surprised her. Made her fall on her face while her body was immobilized. It felt like every muscle in her body suddenly had seized, stopped working, letting her collapse into a twitching heap. Only her eyes had been open, and she’d watched while they loaded her useless body on the truck next to the other women.

Her father would kill her this time.

If she survived. If he ever found her.

She looked at the buyers, watching their leery expressions as they pointed to one of the women and made snide remarks. Enjoying themselves. Most of them were watching the woman on the utter right corner. No wonder. She was a beauty. Slim, but curvy in all the right places. The men seemed particularly interested in the woman’s breasts. Their size alone attested that she had undergone surgical enhancement, but there was no way to be sure. Still, this audience seemed to have confined their taste and comments to the larger breasted ones. Sparing Amalia from the full focus of their attention.

Only one man was staring right at her. His eyes were cold, calculating. His smile didn’t seem real at all. Only plastered on his nicely chiselled features to make him look less like a beast. He made her feel uneasy. Watched. Measured. She didn’t like the way he forced his attention on her. As if he had every right to.

“Undress,” she suddenly heard a man speak into a microphone. “Our precious guests want to see what they are getting.”

The guard behind her gave her a nudge with his baton. As if he thought she had lost her hearing. She pretended to be confused. Didn’t want to remove her clothes in front of so many men.

“Get on with it, or I’ll use the knife on you,” the guard said.

She pulled her jacket off her shoulders, glancing at the other women and saw that they did the same. Sounds of excitement went through the room. The men seemed to enjoy the show even more as pieces of clothing were removed and dropped beside the women.

“Place your bids, gentlemen,” the host said. “The sooner we get paid, the sooner you get laid,” he said and sniggered.

The men seemed to appreciate his joke. A bidding war started for the woman on the right. The popular one. She took off her bra, and Amalia noticed she looked terrified. Some of the buyers tried to walk up to her. But were stopped by the guards.

“Ah, ah! No touching until after you pay,” the host said. “But you can touch yourself, of course.”

Amalia glanced quickly at the cold man who’d been staring at her earlier. He’d probably turned his attention to the big-breasted blond woman, like the rest of them had. But no, he was still staring at her. His left hand lying casually over his crotch as he seemed to enjoy touching himself while she undressed in front of him. She wanted to turn away as she removed her top, but the guard behind her gave her another nudge.

“Face the buyers, chick. Or you’ll end up serving us instead.” He chuckled.

That didn’t seem like a more tempting prospect. Amalia was doomed no matter what. She took off her top and lowered her gaze as she started on her pants.

“Get on with it,” she heard the host say.

Hoots and excitement filled the air. The rest of the women seemed equally reluctant to undress, but every one of them was soon down to their underwear. Amalia saw the man raise his left eyebrow as she revealed her pink bra. As if he didn’t think it was sexy enough. Well, screw him. She knew it didn’t match the grey coloured cotton panties she wore. But how could she know she was going to do some underwear modelling during the night?

The man waved at her, urging her to get on with it.

“He wants to see the rest. Remove them,” the guard urged her.

Amalia placed her fingers on the clasp to her bra, feeling reluctant. She didn’t want to expose herself. Didn’t want to give them the show they expected. At the same time, there was a loud cheer as the blond was taken away from her podium. A buyer must have won that bid and was about to cash in on his payment.

The rest of the buyers started ogling the remaining three women. Amalia felt more eyes on her before they slid to the woman beside her. She took the opportunity to remove her bra, sitting down on her knees as she sorted her clothes in a neat pile.

She peeked at the man sitting in front of her, noticing how his eyes followed her every move. He seemed aroused. Both the heat in his eyes and the impressive bulge in his pants confirmed that impression. She felt nervous.

Would he buy her? And what would happen if he did?

Again, he moved his hand over his crotch, slowly and casually. As if he enjoyed the view and took his time to indulge in it, making sure she saw his movement.

She lowered her gaze, avoided him. Didn’t want to give him any ideas that she wanted him to bid for her or whatever he was there for. Maybe he only liked to watch. He looked as if he was mid-thirties somewhere. She looked at his hands. Large and muscular. It gave her an idea about the rest of his body. Even if it was hidden beneath a suit, his entire persona spoke of strength and vitality.

He was someone that it wouldn’t be easy to slip away from. Not the sort of man that would leave her any chance of escape. Of reprieve. She shivered as she realised her predicament. The mess she’d landed herself in by just agreeing to go clubbing with her friends. One mistake when she was always so careful. So considerate.

She saw a movement around the man in question. He raised his hand, immediately getting attention of the host. The other man rushed over, wearing a broad grin while he went into full sales mode.

The man nodded at her, probably asking her prize. She couldn’t hear any of their discussion. There was too much noise in the room. But after a short while, they seemed to agree. The host gave a small nod in her direction.

“Get your clothes,” the guard said to her.

She reached for her clothes and held them in front of her naked body. Trying to shield herself from the audience. She saw the host and the man walk toward her.

“An excellent choice, Sir,” the host said. “She’s more sturdy and will last many orgies.”

“I hope so,” the man said in a cold voice.

“Or do you intend to keep the pleasure all to yourself?”

The man laughed. “No. Women are made for sharing. I have several business partners that will enjoy some icing on the cake.”

Amalia gawked at him. What on earth were they talking about?

The buyer turned to her and seemed to weigh her up and down. “How many have owned you before?” he asked.

“What?” Amalia gawked at his strange question.

“She’s nice and fresh,” the host said. “You can train her just the way you want.”

The man shook his head. “You’ve overpricing the goods, Alan. Training a sub takes a lot of time and effort.”

“If she were a virgin, I could have doubled the prize. But unfortunately, she isn’t.”

‘Geez,’ Amalia thought as she listened to their conversation. Her father would definitely kill her this time. If she could find a way to escape this mess. She held on to her clothes as though they were a life raft. Hearing the cheers as another woman was sold after a heated bidding war.

Amalia looked at the last one on the line. Knowing the same would happen to her shortly. She didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to find any familiar faces among the crowd. There could be someone recognising her. If they did, all hell would break loose. She lowered her gaze to the floor.

“At least she seems to have some potential,” the cold man said, sounding more eager this time.

“I told you that you would like this one.”

“I’m returning her if I’m not pleased, Alan.”

“Of course, Mr X. Of course.”

Soon after, Amalia felt a firm grip on her arm as she was led away and into an elevator. As the door closed in front of her eyes, it felt as if the last remaining hope of escape disappeared with it. The light fluttered, and the darkness settled. Seconds later the light reappeared.

She was alone with her new owner. He didn’t speak. It was just as well. She didn’t know what to say either. What to make of it all? She was probably in the middle of a nightmare, waiting to wake up and find herself safe in her bed.

She knew she wasn’t so lucky. Not this time.

She was still holding her clothes in front of her chest. Wondering if she should try to dress, knowing he could see much more of her body than she cared to show him. With only her panties and her long brownish hair covering her naked body, she felt the cold air against her back and her legs. She was barefoot. No one had bothered to collect her shoes.

She watched the elevator door, feeling the man watching her. When would he decide to pounce on her?

“There’s no point running,” was all he said.

She glanced at him, taking in his large frame and the muscles his suit couldn’t hide. She wondered if he would bother to run after her if she tried to escape. The determined look on his face told her he was used to getting his way. Used to see his orders fulfilled.

She lowered her gaze, trying to hide her thoughts from him. She felt his hand brush her hair away from her shoulder.

“You’re a beauty. No wonder Alan charged double this time.”

She slid away from him, watching his bemused expression as she did.

“Do you know what happens to obstinate subs?” he asked while he slid his palm down her naked back, pulling her closer at the same time. He grabbed hold of her hair and made a slight pull, tilting her head back so her eyes met his. “Do you?”

She shook her head. Didn’t want to hear her voice break when she spoke.

She heard the elevator door open behind her. At the same time, the man’s lips covered hers. He kissed her hard. Holding her tight while she made a choked sound of surprise. His hands moved to her ass, and he lifted her up and rubbed himself against her. She could feel his erection against her stomach. Knowing he held all the cards, all her future in his hands.

“Nice,” he said as he let go of her lips. “Very nice.”

Then just as the doors started to close, he pushed her back and into the sensors, making the elevator doors open again.

“Come here,” he said as he led her toward a waiting car.

* * * * *

A black car waited for them. He had to be rich, judging by his clothes, the car and the driver holding the door for her. Everything added to the impression. She glanced around. They were in an underground garage. She couldn’t see any exit. The two men towered over her, almost preventing any attempt at escape. Both were muscular and athletic. She wouldn’t stand a chance if she tried to run right now. Besides, she preferred to have some clothes on when she tried to escape. And shoes. It was better to bide her time and look for a better opportunity.

“Get in,” the man said. “I can’t wait to get another taste of you.”

She felt a flash of annoyance at his arrogant behaviour. Did he think he owned her? She glared at him. Her temper seemed to increase his interest. He looked smug.

“I have a large number of toys I want to use on you. Maybe a few minutes with a flogger would take care of your obstinacy.” He gave her a heated stare as if he could already picture the scene where he spanked her. He ran his palm down her side, caressing her, then settled on her lower back, making her feel how large his palm was compared to hers. “Or maybe I’ll use my hand to warm you up a bit.” He gave her a light pat on her ass.

She gasped involuntarily.

“Get in,” he ordered.

She got in the back seat, realising she had no other choice. But she still held on to her clothes as if they were a life raft, protecting her modesty.

“Buckle up,” the man said.

She tried to look for the seatbelt and wondered how she could fasten it without showing off all her assets at the same time. It didn’t really matter. He would get exactly what he wanted soon enough. It was probably foolish to be shy, being reluctant when naked beside a fully clothed man. Taking a deep breathe she slowly lowered her arms, exposing her upper body, trying to stay calm while she reached for the seatbelt.

She gasped in fright when he leaned over, until she realized he had only fastened her seatbelt. The scent of his cologne was too nice to belong to a rapist. She knew she would hate that scent from now on. After what he intended to do to her. To her surprise, he settled back into his own seat and away from her. He didn’t even look at her exposed body. Instead, he fastened his own belt as the car started moving.

He sat calmly and quietly beside her. She scarcely dared look at him. Would he kill her later since she’d seen his face? After he was done with her? He didn’t seem too eager to get started. Maybe she’d just imagined his tented trousers. Imagined he was affected at all. Maybe he was only larger than normal, and she really didn’t have enough clue to know. She looked out of the window, trying to read the road signs and memorise the route they took.

She jumped in her seat as the man suddenly leaned forward. He lowered the privacy window.

“Anyone following us?” he asked the driver.

 His voice sounded neutral. Calm. Not so cold as earlier, or with the sexual interest he’d recently showered her with. Instead, his entire voice had changed into showing no sentiment at all. The man changed from hot to cold so quickly it was difficult to read him. It was no wonder he found it acceptable to buy women for his pleasure. No, he’d said she was for his clients. It was even worse. Such a man would not care what happened to her later.

“Negative,” the driver responded. “But I’ll take a few sharp turns to make sure.”

“Good.” He closed the window, giving them privacy again behind the darkened glass.

She feared the worst as she could feel his attention turn to her. Now what?

“Get dressed, Miss Madison,” he said as if he was talking innocuously about the weather.

She flinched. How did he know her name? She turned and gawked at him. The darkness inside the car made it difficult to see him clearly. Only when they passed a street light, the car lit up and showed her more details than she cared to see.

“What did you call me?” she managed to squeak out.

“You’re Amalia Madison. Your father is expecting you.”

“What?” Was he pulling her chain for some reason? But getting dressed sounded like a good idea. She didn’t feel at ease being almost naked beside this fully dressed man. But she wanted answers now that the shock was wearing off. “Who are you?”

“I work for your father.”

“And do you have a name?”

“Yes.”

“What is it then?” She didn’t care if she sounded snotty. He was probably lying to her anyway, just to make her feel at ease.

“Nothing that you need to trouble your pretty head with.”

She felt annoyed. He sounded just like her father. Treating her like a spoilt child.

“What is all this about?”

“We’ve been looking for you. You’re lucky we caught you before you were sold to a prostitution ring.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“That’s the sort of men that held you.”

“And that show back there?”

“What show?”

“That… that…” she pointed behind them, trying to indicate the way he’d treated her. As if he couldn’t wait to get in her pants. “You’re a scumbag. You didn’t need to kiss me.”

“They have cameras all over the place. I had to make it look good, so they wouldn’t suspect anything.”

Despite the semi-darkness, she could still make out the smugness in his face and in his voice. He sounded much too pleased with his solution to her predicament.

“What about the other women?”

“Not my problem.”

“Not your problem?” Amalia raised her voice. Hanging on to her anger to escape the fear. “That… that… sodding theatre back there is strictly illegal.”

“I only get paid to get your ass out of there. The others will be someone else’s problem.”

She ignored him. Didn’t bother arguing with him and focused on getting her clothes back on in case he changed his mind. He might still be lying to her. She didn’t waste time with her bra. Only pulled on her top to hide her body from him. It was difficult to pull on her pants while still wearing the seatbelt. She leaned forward and put her feet into them, wriggling her body to cover her knees. Then she leaned back and pulled them upwards. It wasn’t very ladylike, but at least she managed to cover herself.

“Do you want any help?” he asked, sounding as if he enjoyed the view.

The light teasing was completely different from the way he’d spoken earlier. He didn’t have that intense sexual vibe to his voice. That forbidden temptation spoke of a man of experience and dark fantasies. Threatening to spank her and do all sorts of things to her. Things she should never desire or want except in her most secret fantasies.

She hoped she never had the misfortune of meeting him again. The light teasing was much easier to deal with. Much easier to turn down without losing her standing at the same time. Was he really into this BDSM routine he’d talked so much about? If he was, she was staying the hell away from him. No doubt about it.

“No,” she said quickly.

He chuckled as if he knew she was tempted but didn’t want to admit it.

She looked at him. The road lights along the streets made it possible to see him watching her. His eyes fixed on her naked thighs as she tried to pull her pants over her ass.

“Do you mind?” she asked sharply. Wanting him to turn away from her so she could get dressed without him staring at her.

Instead, he leaned closer and lifted her by her waist.

“You’d better get your pants on before your father sees you, Miss Madison.”

She pushed his hands away from her. “Don’t touch me.”

“You took too long.”

“Bastard,” she muttered between clenched teeth as she finished dressing.

She heard his amused chuckle just as they drove into a familiar driveway. She was home. He hadn’t lied. Hope built inside her. Maybe she would be all right, after all.