Astor
Vincent hadn’t spoken to me the entire drive to…wherever it is he’s brought me to. I did everything I could think of to get him to let me go. I screamed and I cried. I threatened and I pleaded. We’d driven a couple of hours down dark country roads, where there was rarely even an oncoming car in sight.
Twice he’d made a phone call, but I’d only been able to hear his side of it. The first one was short and sweet. He’d informed whoever it was that he “had obtained new merchandise” and was “on his way there.” The second one was more disturbing, if one can get more disturbed after being called merchandise.
He had been rhyming off instructions to someone on the other end, but the one that got me was when he’d said, “And bring in Doc Evans. We need to make sure this one is clean and get an estimate on what she might go for at auction.”
Now, I may be naïve. I was homeschooled my whole life. I haven’t watched much TV, and the books I’ve read are predominately ones my mother vetted for me beforehand, but it didn’t take a genius to understand what Vincent’s plans for me were.
I’d started screaming before he even ended the phone call, but that hadn’t made a difference. He just finished up and kept driving. Now I’m here, in a small room with a single bed and stone walls. The air around me smells musty, which could have something to do with the fact that I’m in a basement so old, it’s more like a dungeon.
“Hello,” I call out, knowing that even if someone can hear me, they’ll do not one single thing to help me. I’d lucked out with Mia. Nobody was going to save me this time. “Please,” I say in a whisper. This time, I’m not asking some random set of ears out in the hallway. This time, I’m asking God Himself. “Please, God. I’ve done everything I need to do to be a good person. Please get me out of here and let me get home to my mother.”
The sound of a key in the keyhole interrupts my prayer and I back into the farthest corner of the room. When the wooden door opens, it squeals on heavy iron hinges. Vincent is the first one to step through it, followed by a second man wearing a lab coat. “Astor,” Vincent says. “Meet Dr. Evans. He’s going to do a full examination on you to make sure you’re as fit and healthy as you look.”
Dr. Evans doesn’t even smile at me, or make any attempt to put me at ease. He just takes a step toward me, his eyes roving up and down my body. “She’s lovely,” he compliments. “A good find.”
I shrink back and press myself even tighter against the wall as Vincent grins and stares at me. “She is. A bit skittish, but some sellers like that. Like to break them in themselves.”
This can’t be happening. This isn’t real. These men are standing there talking about me like I’m some sort of prized horse, not a human being. Anger builds, my fear forgotten, and I step away from the wall, my fists raised in front of me. “Keep your hands off me.”
Dr. Evans chuckles. “Feisty too.”
Vincent doesn’t seem to find it funny. He steps forward and pushes aside his jacket at the waist, showing me the gun he has strapped to his belt. “You will cooperate on this, Astor.”
My eyes are glued to the gun as defeat threatens to carry me away. “Why are you doing this?” I whisper.
“The customers we cater to are very particular. They come back to us again and again because we produce quality girls, free of all sexually-transmitted and communicable diseases. Now, stand still and let Dr. Evans begin.”
I don’t say another word as the doctor performs a routine exam. He checks my eyes and ears, down my throat, and my reflexes. I start to relax a little until he looks to Vincent. “All looks good. Now I need to do the internal.”
“Take your clothes off, Astor,” Vincent instructs.
My heart stutters in my chest. “But…why?”
For the first time, Vincent’s calm and collected demeanor wavers, and I would almost swear he just rolled his eyes at me. “As I said, we must ensure you are free of STDs.”
STDs. It takes me a moment to realize what he’s saying, but when I do, I straighten. “I don’t have any. I can’t.” Vincent levels me with a look that makes it clear he’s not going to budge on this. “I’m a virgin.”
The slow grin that takes over his face at the V word makes my blood run cold. His teeth flash as he looks to Doctor Evans. “See if she’s telling the truth.”
The next few moments pass me by in a blur of screams and terror. Tears stream down my face as the two men wrestle me out of my panties, lay me on the bed, and the doctor pries my legs apart. When his hands touch my most private area, a part of me dies inside. His fingers poke at me, spreading me wide. His eyes are wide as he looks to Vincent. “She’s telling the truth. She’s still intact.”