Dynasty (Boys of Winter 1)

I gag and try to move past him but his arm curls around my waist and he grinds his dirty cock against my ass. A deep growl sounds through the crowded bodies before the man is violently shoved out of the way.

“What have I told you about touching my girls?” A man roars, making me wonder if this is the boss of this whole operation. Maybe Knox’s Uncle Sam, but what does it matter? I just want out of here. I’ll never be one of his girls.

I’m pulled around a full circle of the room before being dragged up three small steps onto a wide stage. More spotlights fall on me, three on my face, one from each angle of the room, so wherever I look, I’m blinded. Spotlights drag over my body, showing me off as though I’m some kind of prize.

The men at my side push me down into a chair, winding a rope around me to keep me still just as a man in a suit walks out on stage. “Alright,” he says, holding his hands out, indicating for the rowdy men in the crowd to shut the fuck up. He looks back at me, his eyes dragging over my body like a leer. His tongue rolls over his lips as interest shines in his filthy eyes. “Look at this beauty,” he announces to his captivated audience, drumming them up and stirring the excitement, making it clear as hell that he’ll be getting a commission out of each girl he successfully auctions off. “A tight, sweet little body, round perky ass, and a full set of tits that you can sink your teeth into. Who wouldn’t want to come home to this sweet little thing? Only fifteen-years-old. I bet a young thing like this could stay wet for hours.” Cheers are roared around the crowd before the guy continues. “Let’s start at five-hundred-thousand. Who wants her?”

Five-hundred-fucking-thousand? Is he insane? What kind of disgusting rich, entitled men are they to buy girls for half a million dollars?

“Right here,” the filthy man who rubbed his dick all over my ass says. I shake my head. No, no, no. I can’t go home with him. I’ll be raped day-in and day-out. I can’t go to anyone. I have to get out of here.

“Five fifty,” another calls out.

I start pulling against the rope, desperate to run. “Oh, look at that,” the auctioneer rumbles, laughter in his tone. “We have ourselves a fighter. Do I hear six hundred?” Someone raises their hands. “Six fifty?”

It goes up, up, and up.

Seven-hundred-thousand.

Eight hundred.

The men get rowdy as a bidding war starts, the numbers jumping by fifty thousand and the auctioneer enjoying it far more than anyone ever should. It’s almost as though dollar signs are shining in his eyes.

It hits a million and then two before the bids begin slowing down, the original dick rubber getting frustrated that his bids are constantly being met and bulldozed.

We get to two and a half million when a new player stands in the far back corner of the room, the blinding lights making it impossible to make out anything but a shadow. “Five million,” the man says, drawing the attention of the room.

Gasps are heard all around and the auctioneer stares for a minute too long before remembering that he’s supposed to be running the show. He stares out at the man with wide eyes, blinking three times before scanning his gaze over the other bidders. “Do I hear 5.1 million?”

There’s nothing but silence around the room, and after a beat, my heart silently racing, the auctioneer slams his hand down over his wrist. “Sold for five million dollars.”

Fuck.

CHAPTER 16

I’m dragged away, back through the side door and down the long, damp hallway, though now that I’m someone else’s property, the hands on my body are gentle, and considering how much that shadow man just paid for me, I’d dare say that these douchebags don’t want to risk hurting such a valuable prize.

A migraine settles into the front of my skull from the bright lights, but I try to put it to the back of my mind. I can’t crumble yet. I have a feeling this nightmare is only just beginning.

My cell opens wide and I’m thrown back in, my old clothes now gone from the room. Not a word is spoken to me, but why would it be? I’m property, nothing more.

The door slams again with a loud bang, and I’m left all alone with nothing but the torturous thoughts of what’s about to happen to me.

Five million fucking dollars. What the actual fuck? I’m a nobody. Who would ever dream of paying that kind of money for me? Sure, if I had four tits, three golden vaginas, and a forked tongue, then yeah, I’d totally get it, but I’m just a nobody foster kid.