Protection

Chapter 1 Save

Spanish Villa Hotels

Her hair is dark raven, with waves, past her shoulders. She has a petite frame, and a still almost porcelain texture to her face. Her jawline is angelic, with perfect shaping and framing around her other features. Deep brown eyes, that still had a sparkle of her youth, buried deep in the pain.

She's suffered here for over three years. You could call it a brothel really, but dirtier, and with abusive customers, expecting a submissive woman to obey all and do all, and be used, almost always by force, in every way.

Her life had been stolen at age sixteen. When she was yanked away from a family, and given a letter for a name. She was just an object now.

It was sex trafficking; she originally lived in the United States. How she got here, she had no recollection. She believed she was drugged.

A vague memory, she remembers the large man who grabbed her from behind and threw her into the back of a van when on her way home from a movie with friends. She was only two blocks away from the safe haven of her home.

After the first month of being in their clutches, she lost count of how many men had used her. At the hand of the man she had to call master, she suffered physically as well. He wanted her face to remain pretty and attractive, so her beatings stayed strictly on her backside. Sometimes it was a whip, sometimes his belt, or it was a cane.

The men who shared her company didn't mind the marks, when they were there. They would take their own time, using her in every way, in every place. Now nineteen, and still young, and vulnerable, now feeling broken in every way, she sat on a dirty bed, awaiting her next customer.

Would he take her from behind? Would he force her on her back? Would he pin her arms above her? How rough would it be this time?

She was trained, robotic now, she couldn't even remember her real name. The door clicked once, then twice, as it was unlocking. Her master either would take her himself, or have a customer. She dreaded either, equally.

Staring at the ground, and sees the feet enter. Trained to focus down, she stands naturally, holding her hands in front of her. Another set of feet follows behind. "Well, here she is, we call her K, she's just what you want I think," her master explains.

"Ah, she is indeed my type," his accent isn't Spanish, isn't American, it's almost English, maybe Irish?

"Look up!" master commands, and she looks up. She sees her next customer's face. He's dark haired, like her, bright blue eyes, and scruff on his face, as he removed his sunglasses. He's dressed mostly in black, and purses his lips together, staring her up and down. "May I? Before I pay?" he asks, in a suave manner.

The master holds out his hand gesturing him to. He paces around her, looking her up and down, she feels him undressing her with his eyes. "I'll take her, how much for an hour?" He asks. "1000 Euro," master says.

The man hands him money, "is she obedient?" He asks. "Yes, very, if she gives trouble," master hands him a leather strap.

"No no, I have a belt. I can use it?" He asks. "Yes, but away from that face, only rule, no marks on the face," master says. The man nods to him and unzips his black leather jacket as the master walks from the room.

Shutting the door, it clicks, being locked again.

She stares at him for a split second as he faces the door clicking the locks. His hands are large, he's a built and in shape man. Not the typical type, she figures he must be on vacation.

She looks down as he turns, "Well, you are indeed beautiful." He walks towards her, "Let's see if he's right about your obedience." He positions himself standing, behind her, sultrily talking in her ear. He's a lot taller than her small stature.