The men who worked for the sex traffickers had stripped sixteen-year-old Maggie of all her clothes. She struggled in vain as they tied her arms and legs to the bedposts in a windowless room inside an abandoned warehouse.
“Please, you don’t have to tie me up,” Maggie pleaded. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”
Her begging was met with ugly laughter. The two men left the room, slamming the door behind them.
A few minutes later, four men in their early forties entered the room, which was illuminated by candles. Maggie strained to watch them through the eerie darkness. The men were whispering; they all carried beer bottles. She could tell by their staggering gaits that they were drunk.
“Well, look what we have here,” Ernest, the most vocal of the pack, announced as he stepped closer to Maggie.
His friends, Ivan, Damon, and Conway, gathered around the bed where Maggie lay in bondage.
“Please,” Maggie uttered.
“Oh, shit! It speaks,” Ernest said, laughing.
“I’d suggest you shut the fuck up,” Conway said, leaning into her. “Otherwise, we’re gonna hurt you real bad.”
Maggie was utterly helpless. She’d been through a lot, but being back in the hands of sex traffickers was more than she could comprehend.
“I wish they hadn’t taken her clothes off,” Ivan said, slurring his words. “These dudes really blow. We told ’em we wanted her dressed. Fuckin’ bullshit.”
“Did they put the bag in here?” Ernest grunted.
“Yeah, that’s it over there,” Damon said, pointing.
The four grown men had brought toys along with them.
Ernest carried the bag over and dropped it at the foot of the bed. After unzipping the bag, he reached in and pulled out nipple clamps. Maggie’s eyes bulged as Ernest opened the clamps and placed them on her nipples. She resisted the urge to scream as the clamps dug deeply into her sensitive skin.
Ivan began to grunt and clap rapidly. He bent over Maggie, grabbed the chain that connected the clamps, and gave a quick yank. Maggie let out a yelp as pain shot through her breasts.
A moment later, Conway took a vibrator out of the bag and turned it on. Holding the vibrator against Maggie’s lips, he ordered, “Suck it, bitch!”
Maggie hesitated for a brief moment, long enough to piss Conway off.
“You fucking whore. I said suck it,” Conway yelled, shoving the vibrator into Maggie’s mouth.
Maggie gagged when Conway pushed the device to the back of her throat. The four men watched in amusement as she tried her best to do what she was told. When Conway removed the vibrator and stepped away, Damon reached into the bag and then moved closer. Before Maggie knew what was happening, Damon had shoved a ball gag into her mouth.
“That’s to keep you from distracting us with whatever whore bullshit comes out of that mouth of yours,” Damon told her.
Maggie pleaded with her eyes and in return received a hard slap in the face from Damon.
“Don’t even look at us, bitch. You’re not good enough to breathe the same air, you understand?” Damon seethed.
Maggie nodded but went into a state of panic. Are these guys going to kill me?
As the hours wore on, Ernst, Ivan, Damon, and Conway became more aggressive with Maggie. At first, they took turns having sex with her.
Maggie lay still after they’d finished. Then Ernest grinned.
“Time for some fisting. How about it, boys? Who wants this one?” Ernest asked.
“Me!” Ivan called, moving quickly to Maggie’s side.
Maggie watched as Ivan slathered gel on his hand. Then he inserted his fist inside of her. She arched her back, fearing that he was tearing her insides apart as he moved his fist in a circular motion. When Ivan finished, they used toys on her. The men took turns having sex with her again, and to Maggie’s disbelief, Conway gave Damon a blow job. These middle-aged men were harsh and kinky.
During the torturous hours, Maggie tried to think about Seth and Juju, but the things the men were putting her through made it hard to focus on anything but her immediate pain.
After five hours of sexual assault, Maggie hoped she would die. But instead, the four men stopped, packed their bag of toys, and left her tied to the bed, bloodied and bruised. Maggie’s body was limp and broken.
To ease her sorrow, she thought about Seth and Juju, and hoped they were wondering where she was. As she remained still, staring up at the ceiling, a man named Brute entered the room.
“Damn, girl, those fuckers are nuts. You gotta be beat,” Brute said jovially.
Maggie’s eyes followed him as he cut away her bonds. Her arms and legs were exhausted from being tied for so long, and she was barely able to move them.
Brute reached his hand out, and Maggie grabbed it. After Brute steadied her, he threw a blanket around her shoulders.
“You’ll need a shower before your next client,” he sang, as if he was doing her a favor.
Maggie hung her head. The thought of more torment was unbearable. She began to wobble. Brute put his arm around her shoulders to steady her, and Maggie began to cry.
“None of that, now. You’ve got work to do, missy,” Brute stated as he led her to a bathroom with shower stalls.
As Maggie let the warm water wash over her, she yearned for the bony fingers of death to take her away from her hell on earth.