His Perfect Wife Strikes Back

48 An Auction of Women Trafficking

The fat old Lady let us call her Mrs. Carey. She threatened us with death for listening to her. She shocked everyone by using Fiona's death as a cautionary tale. She demanded that we receive every client as unconditionally as a p.rostitute, and the only reward she could give us was food. She thought it was a gift to us, because in her eyes we were all women who had been abandoned by our families, and we should be grateful that she had given us a chance to live.

I cursed the damn old woman in my heart. She killed Fiona. I've carved her name into my death list. As long as I am alive, I will never let her go.

Mrs. Carey put us all in one room. She said there would be a rookie auction that night, and that we would be allowed to rest in the room until then. But she still arranged for bodyguards to stand guard outside the door.

The room, less than 30 square feet, was crammed with nearly 20 women. The so-called bed is a simple combination of wooden boards that can only provide a place for one person to sleep. And there weren't enough beds for everyone, so the women fought over a bed. Curled up in a corner, I found an old blanket with a hole in it.

There was only one open window in the room, and I looked up to see the shutters turning. I wanted to climb up and have a look.

I quietly moved a chair under the window while everyone was resting, and carefully stepped on it. I stood on tiptoe, hoping to find a chance to escape from the window. But my hopes were dashed. I saw solid iron behind the dusty shutters. Through the cracks in the shutters, I could see a cliff behind me.

I was completely hopeless. In this strange place, without any means of transportation or communication, we are like sheep driven into a cave, forced to advance in the darkness of the unknown.

I returned to my corner, quietly looking at the light from the window. I keep telling myself. Patience, patience to live.

Mrs. Carey brought us some food and colorful dresses with sequins or feathers as the light from the windows began to get shorter. I picked up a black low-cut dress, and as I put it on I could smell the mildew and sweat on it. The dress was baggy, and though there was no mirror, I could imagine how ridiculous it was for me to wear this ill-fitting dress.

Mrs. Carey said whoever could get the highest bid at tonight's auction would be entitled to a separate room. She looked at us as if she were telling her dog that we could get a biscuit if we just followed her instructions and reached out or shook hands.

Still, there were those who nodded expectantly, and I was secretly saddened to see it. Because these people not only lost their freedom, but also forgot themselves.

Mrs. Carey ran a b.rothel called the White House, but it was not a luxury establishment. The house is designed more like a villanette in a country town. By nightfall, the house was all lit up with pink and red lights.

We were taken down a corridor and queued to enter the room for the auction. I saw men coming through the door, including the farmer I saw today, who was still wearing the blue suit he had been working on the farm. Not only was he shaggy, but all the other men were as casually dressed as he was.

Then there was a burst of laughter from the auction room, and I saw a short, fat man carrying the woman he had bought to a row of rooms. The woman was quiet on his shoulder until the man took her into the room, and I could vaguely hear what sounded like an abusive scream coming from inside.

But the noise was soon drowned out by the noise of the auction room, and no one paid any attention to what was going on in the room. Mrs. Carey said the guests could stay until dawn. Whatever they ask, we can't refuse. What she meant was that even if the guests wanted to kill us, we couldn't resist. Or we'll all die at her hands.

Unexpectedly, I fell from one hell to another. I hate my father, and I hate why I was kind to him.

The number of people in front of me began to dwindle, and soon it was my turn. The bodyguard shoved his gun up my ass behind me and urged me to get in. I turned around and glared at him. His mink-like face will remain in my mind forever.

The auction room was a simple room, surrounded by a group of men who looked rough and greasy. Mrs. Carey pulled me around in front of them, and then she called out the number 500. I don't know if it's dollars or local currency, but I know 500 is a lot of money, because a lot of men turn their heads away. Apparently, they don't think my body is worth the price.

Finally, the farmer bid on me, and the price was 600. He pulled a wad of green bills from his pocket and handed them to Mrs. Carey. Then he carried me excitedly on his shoulder. I smelled the grass on his body mixed with the smell of cow dung.

He pushed open the door of a room and put me on the bed. There was only an iron-framed bed in the room, and the walls were covered with pictures of naked women. I sat on the edge of the bed with my head down.

"Hey, I heard you guys are from the big city, so you must be better in bed than my wife, right?"

The man's voice was rough, and as he spoke, a lump in his neck vibrated with the muscles. He began to pull down his trousers.

"Go ahead, show me what you got!"

He dangled his wrinkled p.enis in front of me like he was showing off a proud trophy. I said to him, holding back my disgust.

"Perhaps I could suck your c.ock, sir!" I tried not to offend him with my polite tone.

"What?" He exclaimed. "Am I paying good money for oral s.ex? Are you f.ucking kidding me?"

From the next room came the sounds of s.ex and the groans of women. His face flushed, and I saw l.ust and desire in his brown eyes. My body couldn't help leaning back. A burst of itching came up my chest, then the itching spread to the back and even the whole body.

"You f.ucking pig!" The man finally couldn't hold it in any longer. He pulled my hair and hit it against the wall a few times, then pushed me onto the bed. He tore at my clothes like crazy, then pressed on top of me and pulled my legs apart.

"Oh, s.hit! I saw a ghost!" He suddenly froze, his wide-open eyes staring at my chest.