Traffic - Septiplier

pt 1

Jacks POV
Stop it.

Don't touch me there.

Stop grabbing me.

I don't want to go out there.

Please stop it.

I never asked to be born like this. I never wanted to be forced into this 'business'. I don't want any of this.

My name is Seán.
People call me Jack, others call me what ever pleases them.
And I'm part of a human trafficking business.
I'm the one being sold.

Today was another buying day.
10 other twinks and I were being driven in the back of a van to somewhere. None of us knew where, all of us were scared.

I was squished between two other boys, much younger than me. One boy had a small pair of ripped denim shorts and an absent shirt, his ribs sticking out of him from under eating. The other boy had scruffy blonde hair and looked new to the business. He was shaking and pulling his knees to his thin chest. He wore a short pastel pink skirt, no underwear and a baby blue crop top.

I myself wore tights denim shorts, my ass hanging out the bottom, with a black tank top.
It doesn't matter what we wear to the venue.
We all get displayed on stage, lined up like soldiers.
Individually, we get our clothes stripped from our thin bodies, our penises exposed. They bend us over and spread our ass cheeks to show the crowd of both men and women, what they're buying.

I leaned my head against the van and listened to people cry and complain, when it stopped moving. The other boys in the van started murmuring, I started shaking.

The two drivers slammed their doors shut and we could hear them walking around to bang on the van door, most of us jumping at the sudden noise. They pulled open the door and the beaming moonlight glared into the dark van.
One of the drivers spoke, "One at a time. Try to run and you'll get beaten. Get in a line and shut up." The other driver grabbed a boy and dragged him out, throwing him against the ground.

The driver's grip attracted onto my arm, the burly man pulling me to my feet and out of the van, tossing me to try and get on my feet. I felt nauseous from not eating or sleeping in a while.

We were at the back of a building, somewhere. The walls were covered in graffiti and the puddles on the ground reflected the moon's gorgeous state. I could hear police sirens and cars in the distance.

The drivers came up to us individually and tied our hands with zip ties and banged on the graffiti ridden door. One driver, the one who pulled me off the van, said "Zip tie, ready now." and the door opened.

Music and chatter could be heard from the inside, but very deep inside.

Two other very tall and buff men walked out, tying cloths around our eyes and grabbing us violently. I was grabbed my forearm with no vision what so ever, only my sense of hearing.
I heard small cried from the other boys, but kept my mouth shut. The music got louder, and louder the further I was being pulled without my will.
It stopped getting louder and I was thrown into what seemed like a chair.

My cloth was pulled off my eyes and I was greeted by a girl with messy eyeliner and messy hair, ripped demon shorts with fishnet stockings under neath and a black crop top, exposing her cleavage, and the guard stood beside me.