Status: My problem is that I think I'm funny but I'm also lowkey ***ed up. enjoy<3


chapter three.


The door chimed when Kiran pulled it open and stepped foot into the main office. At the front desk sat McKenzie. She looked up from her doodles to smile at him, telling him of Davide’s wish to meet with him.

As Kiran made ways towards the closed door, McKenzie’s mouth frowned at his walk. He walked with even more of a limp than he did last night. She didn’t even want to think about the pain he must have been in.

Pushing her own flashbacks of her first few days here out of her thoughts, she told Kiran to go on in to see Davide - “He’s waiting.” Kiran still knocked before he was told to come in, and walking into the room, he thought he’d see Davide furiously typing away on his computer, or taking calls on the phone, or maybe even having a chat with a future client in front of him or another worker - you know, things that you see managers or owners of an establishment doing.

No. Davide sat back in his cushioned swivel chair with his feet propped up on his desk, on top of layers of papers and magazines. In one of his hands was a fork and in the other a medium sized carton of Chinese take-out. A piece of General Tso's chicken was poked onto the fork's prong, mid-way to Davide’s mouth, levitating in the air as his eyes fixed on the flat screen television that was plastered to the wall adjacent him.

Chewing, his eyes flicked up to Kiran.

“Finally,” was the first word out of his mouth. He retracted his feet to the ground, setting the carton of food onto his desk. He gestured to the chair on the other side as he sat up straight. “You can sit if you want, but it’d be kind of pointless. I have a job for you,” he informed, his smile making Kiran’s nose crinkle in uneasiness. “A promotion, if you will.”

He could go up from here? Richer clients? Or at least ones who were considerate of how he felt?

Whatta dream come true, his thoughts sneered.

“What,” Kiran began with a faint laugh, “Am I going to make house-calls now?”

He felt his stomach wrench when Davide laughed. “Oh, so close. No - what I want you to do is…” Davide had stood and was fiddling around in the drawers of his desk, taking another bite of his food once he found what he was looking for. A sports wristband that you typically see basketball players wearing. It was a bright fluorescent green with a white outline of a moon stitched onto its surface.

“Put this on,” he was told, taking it cautiously into his hands when Davide handed it over the desk.

"Finally getting my uniform?" he asked, peering from it to his boss. He tensed as Davide came around to the other side of the desk.

Davide confirmed, “Finally getting your uniform. What I need you to do is take yourself on a walk, thumb out like a hitchhiker.” He stood directly in front of Kiran. Kiran avoided eye contact, suddenly taking interest in the wristband.

His eyes widen, feeling Davide’s fingers pushed against his chin, quickly lacing them through his dark head of hair.

Kiran was forced to keep eye contact each time Davide nudged the side of his face roughly. He had to fight to refrain from yanking his face out of Davide’s grip. He still recoiled away slightly at Davide’s fingers caressing over his lips.

Davide continued with his instructions.

“Smile,” he said. “I don’t care if it kills you; you’ll smile. If they invite you in, you’ll get in. And don’t even think of coming back if you make less than five hundred.”

Less than five hundred…? Even Davide knew that was quite the request. Shrugging, he addressed it out loud.

“Okay, three hundred, but that’s the lowest I'm willing to drop it.”

He knew there was no reason to lower the amount he expected Kiran to bring in. Barely even a reason to set one. To make it seem more legit, I guess? It’d be nice if Kiran managed to hook up with some other customers, but with that was most likely not being the true aim of the boy’s desires, Davide’s call from earlier and the thousand bucks he exchanged to get an ’Eh, alright,’ from the head honcho already told him it didn’t matter what other levels of hell Kiran would have to fight through tonight.

One encounter was set in stone. Everything else was filler.

Still - it would be great if he could make at least half that thousand back within the same night.

Watching Kiran slip the cotton band over his fist, Davide chuckled gravely.

“If you see any cops, throw that fucking thing in the river. If they can trace you back to me...not a good scenario.”

“Got it.”

“And I want that off.”

Kiran’s hands flattened against his chest. “My shirt?”

“Make it fast. You’re losing time to work.”

Fingers gripping around the bottom of his shirt, Kiran hesitated, becoming anxious. A deep breath and then he lifted it overhead, immediately clutching the clump of fabric to his bare chest. Ignoring the faint patches of slowly forming bruises from Miguel’s assaults, Davide shifted to flick the bit of Kiran’s shirt that wasn’t balled under his fist. His eyes trailed over Kiran’s skin. His stomach wasn’t engulfed with a six pack but it wasn’t an eyesore. Not getting the recommended three square meals a day did do a number on its appearance and you could faintly make out the outlines of Kiran’s ribs, but overall, he looked mildly - oh-so-mildly - fit.

Davide could assume that he somewhat took gym class for what it was worth.

“Not too bad,” he commented, clicking his tongue. “Thought you said you didn’t work out.” Moving Kiran’s hands down, he saw there was the slight indication of pecs beginning to form.

Kiran quickly drew the shirt back in place. “The school has a weight room,” he mumbled, feeling his skin crawl under Davide’s enticed eyes. “It’s not like I have internet or cable. I gotta do something.”

“So you lied to me earlier?”

“No. You asked if I was in any sports. I’m not.”

“But do you know what you are now?” Davide asked. He was feeling witty.

His brows furrowing, Kiran looked up at him cautiously. “Maybe. I don’t know. What?”

A smile cracked over Davide’s face.

“You're officially a streetwalker.”


Kiran’s weary eyes followed Davide’s index finger as it pointed down the length of the block.

“Just keep going straight until you get to the fork - that’s when the corn fields start and you’d be heading to Piqua. Don’t go to Piqua. Turn right just before that and keep walking until you get to UDF, then right again, and you’ll see the cemetery. Another right and you’ll be back here, but don’t come back here. Keep walking the same route, walk until you’ve made me some money. I don’t care how long it takes.”

The empty stare Kiran gave to the small gas station across the street made Davide sigh. He did his infamous grab for Kiran’s chin, forcing him to look him in the eye.

“Got it? ‘Cause I’m not going to repeat myself for you.”

He’s such a dick. Just shut...up. There was something about the way Davide spoke that pissed Kiran off - well, that and the fact that he did indeed pick him up off the street and throw him right into the human trafficking trade.

Davide spoke with authority, sure, but there was so much arrogance.

Probably since he knew no one would try to cross him.

*sigh* except dumbass over here.

“I’m listening,” Kiran blurted, his feathers clearly already ruffled. “I heard you.”

The underlying hint of an attitude in Kiran’s answer, though he didn’t mean for it to leave his mind, was picked up on by Davide, and his thumb pressed hard against Kiran’s chin. His hand was suddenly raised. Kiran squeezed his eyes shut, sinking a few inches back, bracing himself for a slap to the face.

Instead of the smack landing against his cheek, he was shoved on the shoulder, hard, being knocked back a couple feet. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, but enough to stun him.

Darting a fearful look over his shoulder back at Davide, he saw the man’s jaw was clenched.

“We’re back at five hundred,” he scolded. “Good job. Go.” One more shove to send Kiran on his way.

With his back turned to his boss, Kiran ran his fingers anxiously over his collar bones, reminding himself that his skin was exposed. Crossing his arms, he slowly set his walk to take him as far away as he could get from his new home as they’d allow.

They took him down to the end of the block, and turning the corner, he had the fleeting thought to just run and never come back.

But that stupid microchip.

His brows creased in disdain.

“I fucking hate my life,” he mumbled exasperated as his feet came to stop at the edge of the curb. Despite knowing he was told to take another right, he stared at the empty street, waiting for the crosswalk light to change from a red palm to a stick figure.

There were very few cars out on the street, even though it was around five. How was he expected to make any money when no one was out to give it to him? He knew the lack of cars was due to him trolling the side streets, instead of the main, but still. What the heck?

As much as he liked the idea of avoiding as many people as he could, he needed money. A lot of it.

But oh lawdy, he didn’t know if he could handle being harassed again.

This could be the rest of his life. This. Twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five until the day he died? Really? What the hell happened? What went so wrong in the past couple of days that set this as his destiny?

He had been raped twice by the same man and given drugs to help cope. Now he was expected to hop into the back of just anyone's car and let them have their way with him, too., and then the same for the next person, and again and again.

Where did he go wrong?

The light changed to red and the little white outline of a man appeared. Kiran’s feet took him to the other side of the rode. He got halfway down the block before he heard the faint sound he recognized as a car engine.

Darting a look over his shoulder, he saw two headlights growing bigger and brighter as the pickup truck crossed the intersection Kiran just walked through moments earlier.

Deciding it was now or never, and figuring if anyone would be cruising along in a pickup truck, they were most likely a sexually frustrated male, Kiran hitched his thumb out….for nothing. The vehicle didn’t even give the slightest indication that it was going to stop for him.

Kiran lowered his thumb, along with his hopes, as the truck sped on by.

Well, he sighed, can't say I didn’t try.

Just then, as quickly as the automobile went by, it came to a screeching hault. It’s taillights shined a deep red as the driver backed up. Kiran slowed his walk, right as the truck stopped about ten feet ahead of him.

Oh, great. My prayers have been answered.

With a sigh, Kiran felt his back pocket to check that the condom Davide made him go run up to his room to get was still there. The circular outline said ‘yup’.

After one more pep talk, Kiran came around to the passenger side as the driver rolled down the window. Fixing on one fake ass smile, Kiran leaned down to meet eyes with the stranger, his smile faltering at the owner of the vehicle.

Sitting behind the wheel was a not what he expected. At least not the gender. A woman who looked to be in her late thirties lounged in the torn-up faux-pleather seat. She was a scrawny thing, her dark hair up in a messy bun with tanned skin and freckles on her aging face.

She had leaned towards the passenger side to make eye contact with Kiran, brow raising at his falling smile.

“You need a ride, honey?” she asked him sweetly, genuinely. She had that mothering, concerned tone. Kiran could tell from the look on her face that she was a bit apprehensive about stopping for a stranger, and he brought back his smile, making it a bit softer than before.

“Oh,” he said breathlessly, his heart rate returning back to somewhat normal. “No, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else. My brother has the same truck. Sorry for bothering you.” Kiran began to back away, reassuring the woman that he was fine when she asked if he was going to be okay on his own.

“You know where you are?”

“Yeah. I live around here.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”


“Well - okay.”

“Wait!” Kiran’s hands gripped the glasspane of the half-rolled down window. An anxious chuckle as he proposed, “I mean, unless you’ve got some money to spare…or are feeling a little lonely...”

She nearly rolled the window up on his head. Kiran had to jump back as she jammed her foot onto the gas, and the truck sped off.

A moment of reflection as he realized just how creepy he sounded.

Awesome. He knew his best bet on actually getting his job done tonight was if he found a man - an at least bi-curious one at that.

He wondered for the first time of what would happen if he came across the wrong type of person. We got 'not interested female' out of the way, and she just sped off, but what about 'rapist'? Though, arguably, anyone who agreed to share a bed with a fifteen year old was, by law, a rapist, what about someone who refused take his 'no' as a valid answer?

He's seen Criminal Minds. There have been more than a few episodes where streetwalkers were picked out and murdered - brutally and typically in humiliating ways.

No thanks. Or what about 'homophobic aggressive fe/male'?

The last homophobic pair he dealt with kicked him out of his home when he was thirteen. What if the next homophobe he encountered thinks they can 'beat him straight'?

At that thought, a chill creeped up Kiran's neck and he shivered against the cool October air.

Staring up at the sky, he saw the sun was setting, the time of year meaning it was getting darker earlier than usual. With the darkness of night came the drop of temperature. He really didn’t want to be out all night, especially when he had a warm bed to sleep in.

Making a true effort, Kiran attempted to flag down a ride just a few more times, coming up empty each time. Two of the three times, neither vehicle bothered to stop for him, and the last one was a family of five, whose persistent offers he declined.

When all hope was starting to seem lost, he found himself back on the track Davide told him to stick to. He was back near that turn just before the fork in the rode that would apparently take him to the neighboring city.

One great thing about being back up here was that the block over was the stripmall, and in the alleyway next to the Main Street Market was where Kiran had been sleeping for the past few months. He had clothes there, blankets, trinkets, and such.

He didn’t have to think twice. He jaywalked across the slightly busy street, booting it to the other side before the bright headlights beaming down the right lane made him see ‘the light.’

However, while that car went on down the street without the faintest interest in the shirtless teen, his florescent wristband caught the attention of a parked ‘99 Dodge Durango. It’s lights were off, though it harbored passengers. That paired with the automobile’s black paint job made it virtually invisible.


The three men exchanged looks of relief as the driver said, “About fucking time.”

They had grown very impatient, having been waiting twenty minutes for the young man to come into their view. The driver checked Kiran’s appearance with the little Post-it note he scribbled Davide’s description down on.

Finding it was a match - the fluorescent wristband was the big sellpoint - he shifted to turn the engine over and flicked the headlights on.

“Bets on where he’s going?” he asked the two men as he pulled away from the curb. They all kept their eyes on the Kiran’s bare back, watching him hightail it down the sidewalk.

The ginger haired man who sat in the back suggested, “The school? They keep the weight room open, don’t they?”

“This late?” The driver shook his bald head in uncertainty.

“Griec said he used to sleep in the alley, over by Marsh’s. That’s where they met. He could be going back.”

Shrugs let Blondie know he made a good suggestion.

“Marsh’s it is.”


Kiran only found it a bit concerning that this was the second time he saw the black SUV go by him. He tried not to worry himself over it and continued to head towards the alleyway.

But the third time it happened, he made himself accept that it wasn’t a coincidence. Maybe they were customers, unsure of how to initiate a session? He was told to wear the wristband for a reason. That’s probably how Davide let people know who his workers were.

Dreading their encounter, he waited for them to pull up beside him and roll down the window, but they didn’t. The vehicle continued on down the street and took another left for the fourth time. Kiran was left alone once more and the thought of them coming back, which he knew was very likely, caused him to walk faster.

He made it to the alley and was pleased to see that while the garbage truck did make its rounds this morning, like usual, his blankets and pillows were still in the same place he left them.

The pizzas, however, were gone.

Once again, Kiran muttered under his breath, “I fucking hate my life.” Bending down, he lifted the comforter to find the pillowcase filled with scraps of his clothing. He felt relieved but exhausted. Everytime he was around here, he was either working on homework or passing the time by sleeping.

The familiar setting was affecting his mind with grogginess.

Just as he was about to sit down and relax for a few minutes, a long, low whistle broke into his ears. His heart leapt in fear, his eyes squinting to look passed the bright headlights of an unfamiliar vehicle.

It was the black car from before, and it was pulling into the alley.

Stupidly, Kiran took a step off to the side, hoping they came down this alleyway just to pass through and not try trade his body for money.

Instead of driving straight on passed him, the car slowed to a stop and the driver’s side window rolling down. Kiran took another cautious step back. A feeling of unease rippled through his stomach and caused his heart to skip a beat.

He only saw the two men sitting up front - Baldie and Blondie. The thought of being tag-teamed wasn’t all that appealing, and by the look of their stone-cold faces and buff body builds, he knew they wouldn’t be gentle.

Baldie brought a smirk onto his face. “How much for an hour?”

Kiran’s skin prickled and his brows furrowed.

“What?” he asked, his voice cracking. He knew what he was asking, but there was a part of his mind that refused to accept what they wanted.

Chuckles arose from the two men as they exchanged looks of amusement. Kiran’s throat went dry hearing another set of laughter, and he stared at the backseat’s tinted window. Almost instantly, the gingered hair man sensed it was time for his introduction, and he put the window down to smirk at Kiran’s wide eyes.

“Oh,” the man’s gravely voice peaked. “You want me, baby?”

Their laughs were rolling again. His stomach sank and he was beginning to feel sick.

“You one of Davide’s boys?”

Kiran looked from Baldie to where his eyes were pointing. The wristband. The trademark that let people know he was now a hooker. Kiran’s eyes scanned the three faces situated inside the vehicle. The fleeting thought to say no and sprint away wasn’t very fleeting. It twisted into his gut and sent a chill down his spine.

“Maybe,” he said timidly.

“How much for an hour?” he was asked again.

'How much money was he willing to rent his body out for?'

Funny how willing Kiran was to do just that, not even half an hour ago, but now that the time had finally come, and he was standing face-to-face with potential customers, he’d rather die than get in that car.

Three, he thought in disgust. I’d have to sleep with all three of them? At the same time? If that’s what was going to happen, it’d take all the money in the world.

He knew that wouldn’t fly, but he did know he’d eventually have to swallow his pride. He had to let them get with him. He needed that money.

Three men, three strangers, clearly out looking for someone to gangbang. How much would they be willing to pay?

Trying to keep the shakiness out of his voice, Kiran peered into the vehicle and asked as cunningly as he could, “How much you got?” The sound of chuckling came again and Baldie looked amongst his fellow co-workers.

They withdrew their wallets in unison, flicking out bills.

The blond announced, “I’ve got a hundred.”

“Fifty,” a voice from the back said out loud.

The driver pulled a few bills from his wallet. “And I’ve got about two hundred.”

Well, shit. Who carries that much on them? It’s like they planned to go hooker shopping.

He hit the nail on the head.

Doing the mental math, Kiran said the sum out loud. “Three-fifty?” His tone didn’t sound promising to the men. Any other time, Kiran would’ve been a kid on crack, but he needed more. They would most likely be all the action he’d let himself get tonight. He wouldn’t have the time or will to go hunt for more.

“What?” the driver said tauntingly. “Is that not enough for you, whore?”

Kiran was taken back. A frown took over his lips.

He called me a whore, he thought in disbelief. I am not a whore...yet.

“Yeah,” Kiran said aloud, taking his poise back. “I guess that’s not enough for this whore. I’ve got a quota to meet. Sorry.”

He was under the ring leader’s intense, unnerving stare, but Kiran didn’t let it show on his face that his mind was terrified. The man’s lifeless stare was etched into Kiran’s brain. They held the staredown for several seconds, then the man pulled his eyes away to sigh at his passengers.

“That was all I had,” he said to them. “Vic,” - he was speaking to the blond, then the man in the back seat - “Alec, I know you have more. Fifty?” he said with a laugh. “That’s really all you had?”

“It’s my money!” the so-called Alec snapped.

Suddenly, Kiran could only hear murmurs. Incomprehensible whispers. He couldn't decipher their hushed conversation.

“It doesn’t matter!” the driver growled back exasperated. “He’s not keeping it. You’re getting it back, dumbass.” The second they were done with what Davide wanted them to do, they could easily take their money back from Kiran’s unconscious body.

They were digging around their pockets again.

Alec changed his dollar amount.

"Alright. Another fifty. That's it."

"Same here." Vic was waving another fifty dollar bill in front of him.

"Now we're at four-fifty." Pausing after he rounded up the cash into one pile, he looked up at Kiran. "Is that enough?"

Kiran wondered just how much he could weasel out of them, but decided only being fifty bucks away from what Davide wanted from him, that was going to have to do.

He did have that extra fifty Miguel decided to give him again before he left today’s session.

The still nameless driver held the stack of money out of the window, retracting it ever-so-slowly as Kiran came closer, like the cash was bait and he was the poor defenseless, starving bluegill.

He was as close as he could get, with the only thing between him and the three men being the exterior of the car. Kiran looked around at his new costumers and reached for the money. His thumb and index finger bit down on it, but the man didn’t let it out of his grip.

“Promise you’ll get in?” he asked, voice dark and ominous.

Kiran’s eyes flicked up, daring to meet that threatening gaze. He forced a stiff nod.

“I promise.”

The money was released and Kiran held it in his hands like it was a newborn child. Shame he wasn’t going to be able to keep it all for himself.

He casually lifted his foot to slip the cash into his sock.

His heartbeat hitched as the redhead opened his door, but Kiran wasn’t invited in just yet. The man got out of the vehicle, and Kiran took another cautious step back. His heart was beating so hard and fast, his fingers were trembling and his entire body was quivering. He was left to give a confused stare as Alec seemed to ignore him and went around to the back of the SUV.

He popped open the rear doors and stood off to the side. He snapped his fingers at Kiran.

“Well, let’s go.”

It dawned on our puzzled Kiran that they must have set up a little bed-type area in the back of the Durango.

He’d be lying in that bed, naked, with these three strangers all trying to violate him at the same time. Suddenly, the four-fifty was nowhere near enough. He wouldn’t even do his homework for that.

Attempting to avoid any more eye contact, Kiran prayed that ecstasy pill would kick in sooner rather than later. He kept his eyes to the ground and hesitantly came to stand over by the ginger haired man, his eyes immediately burning at what they had prepared for him.

They did indeed make it into a bed. Kiran could tell there had originally been two rows of seats in the back, but the second row had been ripped out, and in its place were sheets of blankets and a couple pillows. A pack of condoms poked out from the underside of one of the pillows. Bottles of empty beer cans littered the floor, as well as other pieces of trash.

It was like they basically lived in here.

Kiran tensed when a strong set of hands gripped him at his waist and he was yanked back to collide hard against Alec’s chest.

Within seconds, Alec was chuckling, his chapped lips pressing against Kiran’s ear.

“Oh, god,” he groaned in ecstasy. His hand tightened around Kiran’s throat. “I’m gonna fuck you,” he spoke over Kiran’s fearful whimper. “Over and over again. You’ll be begging me to stop.” Alec’s hand forcefully slipped up and down the length of Kiran’s inner thigh before he let of another groan, the excitement becoming too much for him.

Unable to hold back anymore, he let go of Kiran, only to push him forward and watch him stumble to land half-inside the bed of the vehicle.

They were going to be violent. Kiran realized that with no problem. It didn’t matter if he gave in or not; there was no way any of them - or at least no way Alec - would be even slightly nice. He could cooperate, and they would still use force.

It’s what they promised, after all.

The impact of the fall caused Kiran’s head to spin. His vision twisted and his breath caught in his throat when something was suddenly tightening around his neck again. Alec still stood, smirking, outside the vehicle. He was no where near Kiran’s neck.

Desperate to breathe and desperate to know what the fuck was trying to choke him out, he clawed at his skin, failing to grasp the leather belt that had magically wrapped itself around his throat. Kiran’s fingers dug and managed to get themselves trapped between the strap of leather and his neck.

The belt looped through the buckle and was jerked back. Kiran’s neck had no choice but to follow the movement.

He was staring up into a pair of dark, charcoal eyes. The blond haired man was leaning over the edge of the backseat, holding on tight to ends of the belt. His teeth were gritted and sharp intakes of breath fled in through the crevices as the excitement of the situationed began to affect him in the same way if affected Alec. His breathing was fast and irregular, and Kiran groaned, feeling it huff down his cheek.

The belt tightened and almost made him gag. He cried out loudly, and that’s when the driver finally cut in.

“Alright - Jesus, Vic, you’re gonna kill him!”

Vic loosened his hold momentarily, just as Alec hopped into the back where Kiran laid, struggling for a breath. He wasted no time hurling his fist into Kiran’s gut, and then another blow was sent to his jaw.

A pressure was building in Kiran’s throat and tears were welling up in his eyes.

He felt like he was going to puke.

The hits just kept coming and the belt continued to tighten around his throat. He thought he was going to pass out, and the pain and reality of the situation pushed him over the edge as he began to cry.

They mocked his sobs, even the driver.

He suddenly joined them in the backseat after hopping out and closing the rear doors behind him. Letting Alec land another jab into Kiran’s lower stomach, he stepped in to grip Kiran by a tuff of his hair.

“You gonna cry?” he said, teeth gritting. “You gonna cry like a little baby?” Kiran was losing the strength to stay conscious, the lack of oxygen starting to take affect.

All his brain could coherently get him to do was sob and gasp out, “Please - I can’t breathe.”

The tears flowing down his cheeks pushed a wave of excitement through the bald-headed man. He rocked back onto the heels of his feet, cocking his fist back. It drilled it right against Kiran’s temple.
“Huh?” he mocked. Another hit socked him in his nose; he could taste blood in his mouth - his blood.

Bringing his fist back again, the man shook his hand a few times to loosen it, and spoke on behalf of himself and Davide.

“You see what happens when you don’t listen?”

He pushed Vic on the shoulder, telling him to let go of the belt. Kiran’s body fell down the floor when Alec was also told to hold off. He had almost forgotten how to breathe, but the air found it’s way into his lungs with ease but burned on the way into his nose.

Kiran didn’t even have to open his swollen, aching eyes to know what was to come next. He heard jeans unzip. All he could manage was a whimper.

“Huh?” the man said again, louder this time. He kicked the bottom of Kiran’s shoe. “You hear me, fag? Or am I going to have to make you listen?”

“Please,” he whispered. He tossed his head side to side. “I can’t - I can’t do this anymore. I’m so tired.”

“Hold his arms.”

A sob broke out of Kiran’s mouth when two sets of hands grabbed him by the wrist. Alec pinned his hand down against the pillow. Vic held it up towards him.

He didn’t want to open his eyes. He didn’t want to see how they stared down at his limp body. He didn’t want to know.

The sheets shifted as the man kneel next to his head. “Open your mouth.”

A long whine followed by a tearful, “No - please. God, please..”

He was hit in the jaw. “Open, now.” Kiran’s head was tipped to the side, his bruising jaw caused his mouth to hang open. The opportunity was seized.

Feeling it touch the back of his throat, he gagged, and cried when the deed was finally done and he was expected to swallow.

They all three took turns emptying themselves into his mouth, then finished their assaults with the ultimate form of humiliation they could think of.

At last, the box of condoms were put to use.


Leaning back to rest on his knees, the man pulled Kiran's shoe from his foot. Since the teen had passed out at some point due to the pain, he wasn’t able to put up a fight.

The four-fifty was near the toe of his sock.

After flicking his two hundred from the bunch, the man handed the remaining wad of cash to Alec. “I got mine. You can take what yours. Get him dressed and we’ll get out of here.” He hopped over the back seat to take his rightful spot behind the steering wheel, leaving his two counterparts to fight over the cash.

Deciding to split it evenly, they moved on to collectively throwing the boy’s clothes back on his body. The car was started and they drifted themselves back to the motel, parking in the spot nearest the front desk.

Receiving a text from the contact marked ‘Don,’ Davide rose up from behind his desk, and came to meet with the three men out front, absentmindedly passing by McKenzie as she doodled at the check-in counter.

She was already staring out the glass panes at the black SUV, getting an ominous feeling from its presence. Her eyes trailed behind Davide as he stood waiting for the trio to get out of the vehicle.

Don was first; he came around to open the rear doors.

McKenzie leaned forward to get a better look at what was going on, her brows causing a crease on her forehead when Vic and Alec emerged from the back seat, bringing out something with them.

She squinted and then her eyes widened once she was able to make out what looked to her like arms. Vic’s hands gripped under the shoulders. Alec had him by the ankles.

Davide’s finger gestured for them to take whatever - whoever - it was upstairs, and as they passed under one of the lights, McKenzie’s hand clapped over her mouth as she lost her breath in a gasp.


It clicked in her brain that the limp, unresponsive figure they towed towards the staircase was the young boy she hasn’t seen since late last night. Though his face was coated with drying blood and blotches of bruises, she knew his features right away, having fantasized about them all night.

Davide came back into the main office, stopping to lean his elbow on the edge of the counter. He smirked at McKenzie’s pale face.

“And that, my dear,” he began with a chilling tone to his words, “is what happens when you don’t listen to me.”

She asked him quietly, “Was that…? That wasn’t…”

“Kiran? Yup. He’s a piece of shit.”

A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’s lucky I didn’t let them kill him,” Davide grumbled as his answer. “All I’ve done for him, and he wants to talk to me like that. I could’ve killed him. I should’ve.” A thought popped into Davide’s head and he was smirking back at McKenzie again.

“Why do you care?” he asked her grinning. Then he shrugged. “You know the policy. You can fuck but you gotta make a pretty penny from it. You’d really pay to get in bed with him? Doubt he’d do the same for you.”

She continued staring out the window. The three men suddenly came into her line of sight as they trekked down the flight of stairs. Kiran’s body wasn’t in their grasp. They must’ve put him up in his room.

McKenzie’s skin prickled and her legs wanted to run to go check on him, but she stayed put.

The black SUV pulled out of the parking lot and Davide couldn’t find a reason to stay out here anymore. He headed back for his office, entering the small room without another word.

She stared at his closed door, the tingling on her skin becoming too much. She had to do something to satisfy the curiosity. Her feet took off and she was out the door, sprinting up the stairs.

Before she bolted into room A17 like she wanted to, she peered in through the paper thin drapes, carefully pushing open the door when she didn’t like what she saw.

He laid lifeless on the bed, face down in the mattress. His jeans were unzipped and resting further down on his hips than they normally would’ve. Day old bruises mixed with new ones on his back, along with bite marks and scratches from fingernails.

He’s been put through hell, and having gone through the same, the pain resinated on another level with her.

She softly crouched down near the side of the bed. The state of the fifteen year old’s face made her cup her mouth again. A cut in his hairline caused blood to dry in his hair and drip down his forehead, framing his closed, bruising eyes. His nose was slightly bent and bleeding. The blood was wet and mixing with the blood that flowed from his busted lip.

McKenzie’s fingers gently traced the side of his bruised and tender jaw. He didn’t stir awake at all or show any signs that he felt her touch.

She hopped up from the ground to get a wet washcloth from the kitchen, as well as a cold bottle of water from the fridge. Kneeling down again, she cleaned as much of the blood from his face as she could, applying the water bottle to various bruises here and there. Another trip to the sink to run hot water over the washcloth, putting it over the same bruises once she came back into the main room.

He was still out like a light when she left his motel room a little while after, and he stayed passed out until he groggily regained consciousness several hours after, feeling like he had just joined an army of the undead.

His limbs were heavy and his body was stiff. The entire lower half of him ached and made him double over once he remembered what caused his pain.

It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. His head spun with questions that he didn’t get answers to.

Why was it so easy for people to forget he was a human being? He wasn’t some toy there to be messed around with and then thrown away.

He had feelings - he had a life - and he mattered. How could they do that to another living creature?

Kiran eventually pushed himself up and crawled towards the head of the bed. Finding the little bag of the green hash, he grabbed it and a lighter.

He smoked until he was able to dull the neverending pain and silence the questions his mind sobbed, finally passing out once he found that the only thing that helped was not being awake for any of it.

And in the last second before his eyes dropped shut from fatigue, he cursed God.
♠ ♠ ♠
so obvie this is going to be one of those stories it'll take me a month or two each chapter, just because, well, one, it's content is a little...rough. and two, unrelated a bit but we're working on our senior thesis for school at the moment and I've got two books to read and compare.
i'm sad with school. but i'm kind of liking this story even though it's giving me PTSD though i've never been through this situation.
still rough.
anyway, if you liked this, please be sure to either tell me inthe comments, or subscribe or whatever. or don't. that's fine too.