I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I never minded being almost naked in front of the other girls, but Kerstan wasn’t allowed that privilege from me. The only time he had seen me completely naked was when he “assessed” me after bring me back to Amsterdam.
“Why if so many men see you naked and use you at their discretion, am I not allowed to see your breasts?” he once asked me.
“Because you didn’t pay for the pleasure of my company,” I remember snapping back.
Kerstan chuckled and shook his head, a grin on his face. It was an amusement to him that one of his “girls” was still as headstrong as I was. That was one of the few civilized conversations we ever had. Usually it was him telling me to get ready for my next “date.”
But today, right now, he was looking at each of us harshly in turn and when his eyes landed on me, he shook his head slightly and sighed heavily.
“I have to say that I am disappointed in you, dames. I want you all to see this. Then I will punish the one that cannot follow my simple rules,” he said pulling something out of his back pocket. I craned my neck to see; my eyebrows furrowed curiously, as he gave the photo to Margit (formerly Bridget, the leggy, blonde Swedish bombshell) and instructed her to pass it around the room.
The girls’ eyes would widen or close when they would look at what I had figured to be a picture before handing it to the next. Since there were only fifteen of us in the group, it didn’t take long for me to receive the picture. I was always last in getting anything because I preferred the room closest to the wall away from the door.
Betje (formerly Wendeline, the brown haired braided, freckle faced beauty of Germany) handed me the picture without looking at me. Not that this was the place to make or want friends, but she and I were very close. And because I could see a tear roll down her cheek as she avoided my eyes carefully, I deduced one of two things. Either she was fucked and I was going to take the punishment for her, or I was fucked and she would cry through the whole thing.
Survey says... I thought to myself flipping the picture over.
I felt the blood drain from my face as I looked at the photograph, but I kept a steel look on my face. It was a picture of me laughing happily as I tried to get a shot of me and Theo together. All you could see from him was his grin and an arm around my shoulders and it was my favorite picture of us in the entire world.
I glanced up at Kerstan and shrugged. Showing fear was something that he quite enjoyed and I wouldn’t give it to him. He came to stand at the end of my bed and drummed his fingers along the worn metal frame.
“You know this is not permitted, Lieve,” he said softly.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t make it so easy,” I quipped, tossing the photo back at him.
He chuckled and pulled his hands away from the end of the bed. I watched his eyes grow cold as a sinister smile began to spread across his handsome face.
“How does one punish a girl that just doesn’t care?” he mused more to himself than the rest of us.
“Short of setting me on fire, there’s nothing you can do,” I muttered.
“That’s not a bad idea actually,” he said beginning to pace slowly in front of my bed. Stalk is more likely the correct term for what he was doing honestly. “The two of you are close, correct?” he asked Betje stopping in front of her bed.
She looked up at him nervously. In the middle of her confessing that we were indeed friends, I got to my feet and threw my pillow at her.
“No. We’re not. I can’t stand the bitch honestly. She’s so insipid. I only speak to her to pass the time, but of course even her conversations are fucking boring,” I interceded quickly. Kerstan crossed his arms over his shoulders and raised an eyebrow. I quickly hopped onto the mattress and spoke again. “As a matter of fact, I can’t stand any of you bitches. I hate being in this godforsaken room with you all. I hate that I have to see your miserable faces every fucking day because you’re not good enough to fuck your way out of this shit hole. Maybe you should follow me on one of my dates and learn a thing or two.”
It was going to be so very difficult to get them to understand that I was doing this to save them. I demeaned each and every one of them as a whole to keep Kerstan from hurting one of them, because he had correctly identified that I didn’t give a shit if he did anything to me.
“YOU’RE ALL A BUNCH OF CUNTS!” I yelled throwing both middle fingers into the air.
The girls in the room gasped and looked at me with evil eyes. Apparently I had fooled them into thinking that I was now the biggest bitch they’d ever know; which was the point. Kerstan however was completely unamused.
“Stop embarrassing yourself, Lieve. Off of the bed. Now,” he said in a stern voice.
I put my hands on my hips and stared at him defiantly. I was going to pay the price for all of this later but for right now I had to show that I “meant” what I was saying.
“I won’t ask you again,” he said leaning forward and gripping the edge of the bed frame tightly. Behind him I could see Betje wringing her hands. She was scared for me right now, more than I was scared for myself. I was more concerned for her.
“Yes, your majesty,” I muttered as I dropped onto the mattress and pulled my knees back up to my chest. He eyed me dangerously for what felt like a lifetime. It was obvious that Kerstan was trying to decide if he was going to punish me just a little or severely. Defiance was not something he tolerated in his home for red light hookers.
I waited nervously now as he began to drum his fingers along the frame. He hadn’t taken his stare off of me yet and I was beginning to feel intimidated. I cleared my throat and broke our locked on gazes, conceding this disagreement. The next one is mine, I swore to myself.
“Betje, I’d like you to come with me please,” he said turning his attention back to her.
“Why?” I blurted out.
Kerstan glanced at me over his shoulder, his green eyes turning cold. But he didn’t answer me, then or when he came back with two new girls and no Betje in sight. Not when I broke one of the biggest rules in his little whore camp and pounded on his bedroom door.