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WILD CHILD: The Wylde Ones MC by Naomi West (77)


Star

 

“Just a little … there. Perfect.”

 

The girl who’d been hard at work on my face for the last half hour was done. Finally. She stepped away from me, looking back at me as though she’d just taken the final chip out of a block of marble she’d been carving.

 

“Well, little lady,” she said, clearly proud of her work. “Whaddya think?”

 

Truth be told, I didn’t know what to think. Looking at my reflection in the well-lit vanity, I looked like a different person. My eyes were outlined in thick black that made my greens pop out, my already fair skin had been slathered in foundation that gave my complexion the tone of fresh cream, and a healthy dusting of blush made me look I’d just been walked in on naked and I was mortified from embarrassment. My lips were blood red and glistening, like I’d just drunk a big glass of blood. I wasn’t much of a make-up girl to begin with—Grandma Dove wasn’t too keen on those sorts of things—so the change was even more drastic.

 

“I mean, it looks nice,” I said, not knowing what to say, really just happy that the gag in my mouth had been removed and I could talk and breathe halfway normally.

 

“You hate it,” she said, stomping her foot a little.

 

Lady, I thought, I’m being dolled up to be sold and you’re the one throwing a fit?

 

“No,” I said, feeling some bizarre compulsion to make this girl feel better for some reason. “It looks great!”

 

“You really think so?” she asked, her tone softening.

 

“I look like a celebrity or something. Like I should be on the cover of Vogue.”

 

“Now you’re just being nice,” said the girl.

 

Geez, I thought. What the hell does she want from me?

 

“It’s the best makeup job I’ve ever had,” I said.

 

I wasn’t lying. I mean, I could count on one hand the amount of times I’d had another girl put makeup on my face.

 

“Aw, thank you, sweetie,” she said.

 

I looked around the room at the other two dozen or so women in the place. After I’d been thrown in my cell, another ten or so girls had been brought in, all terrified beyond belief. The middle-aged woman and her gaggle of young women companions came in soon after, letting us know what was going on.

 

“You’re all here to be sold,” the middle-aged woman had said, her blunt words sending up a wave of muffled wails from the caged girls. “Just square yourself with that right now. You’re all young and pretty and gonna fetch us a nice little pile of cash.”

 

The middle-aged woman’s girls went from girl to girl, snatching off their gags. Guess they figured there was no point in keeping them on any longer; they’d got all the girls they were gonna bring in and now it was time for whatever was next.

 

“If you’re lucky, the man who buys you will take good care of you … if you take good care of him. Make no mistake—you’re being sold as a pet. Your life from here on out will be in the sexual service of your buyer. You’re to do his bidding, to please him when he wants to be pleased, and to keep him happy to the best of your abilities. And if you have no abilities … well, you’ll just have to learn.”

 

I looked around at the other girls, seeing that all of them were shocked by this revelation. I was going to be a sex pet? This had to be a joke, like some kind of prank. But as I wrapped my fingers around the cold steel bars of my little cage, I realized that there was nothing funny or fake about any of this.

 

“We’re gonna get you all looking good and sexy. We’re gonna put all your assets on display. And when you’re up on that stage, you’re all gonna show off what you got and make those men want to spend top dollar for those little asses of yours. Any of you get any big ideas about not playing along, well, just keep in mind that girls who get too smart for their own good don’t meet with happy endings.”

 

I swallowed hard. She had just threatened our lives. How could this get any worse?

 

I had my question answered when the middle-aged woman said the last word that I wanted to hear at that moment.

 

“Now strip!”

 

We all complied, most of us already broken by our hours in captivity. Part of me wanted to protest, to tell them that there was no goddamn way I was going to go along with this insanity. But I knew I had no options; the woman’s threat had done its job. Slowly, I took off my clothing until I was wearing nothing but my white cotton panties and cheap bra. Looking around, I saw that the rest of the girls were in the same state of undress.

 

“And the rest!”

 

I took a deep breath before reaching behind my back and undoing my bra. After that, I stepped out of my panties and was totally nude. I covered myself with my hands as best I could, but it was no use: my whole body was on display.

 

“Hands at your sides!”

 

We did as the woman asked. The girls that’d been assigned to us stayed at our sides, making sure that we didn’t get up to any funny business. Looking down the line of naked girls, I watched as the middle-aged woman went from girl to girl, staring her up and down as if inspecting for any flaws. Once she was satisfied, she moved to the next girl. Eventually, she came to me. She scoured my body from forehead to toes.

 

“Now turn,” she said.

 

I did. The air of the place was cool and dry, and against my wishes, my nipples hardened.

 

“I think she’s excited to be here,” said the girl standing nearby, a smirk appearing on her face.

 

“Whoever buys her really going to be the one who’s excited,” said the middle-aged woman. “She’s just about flawless. Maybe the catch of the night. Let’s save her for the grand finale. Make her look really good.”

 

The girl nodded and turned her attention back to me.

 

The next few minutes after that were a crazy whirlwind of activity. The girls brought us out of our cages and seated us all in front of the vanities. I looked around at the girls who’d been taken prisoners like me and saw that they were all about my age. All just like me, frightened girls who hadn’t seen much of the real world. I wondered how long they’d had their eye on me. Had I been stalked for days, or even weeks, before they finally picked me up? Or had I just been in the worst place at the worst time?

 

I shook my head and came back to the present moment.

 

“Okay,” said the girl. “Now it’s time to get you all dressed up.”

 

The doors to the room opened and several girls entered, all pushing in row after row of clothing and shoes. Once a rack came to a stop nearby, the girl assigned to me ran over and started rifling through it, grabbing what she could among the flurry of hands from the other women, all of them interested in getting the best outfits for the girls they’d been assigned.

 

After a moment, the girl came back to me, some clothes and shoes in her hands and a big smile on her face.

 

“I found the perfect look,” she said, bubbling over with excitement as though we were girls having a slumber party.

 

Standing in front of me, she held up what she’d picked out. It was a skimpy white teddy, very lacy, and with the sides exposed. Light blue bows adorned it. In her other hand were a pair of white heels, the same color as the lingerie.

 

“Put it on!” she said, shoving the clothes into my hands and stepping back.

 

I did what she asked, and minutes later I was dressed. If you could call it that. The teddy was skintight on my body and left very little to the imagination. My breasts looked like they were going to burst out of the thing at any moment. The heels hurt my feet, and I felt as awkward as a baby deer taking its first steps.

 

“You look so fucking hot,” said the girl. “You’re gonna sell for, like, a million dollars.”

 

Between the awkwardness and the circumstances, “sexy” was the last thing I felt. Looking in the mirror, it felt like I was looking at a different person. But before I had too much time to consider the matter, the middle-aged woman took her place in front of all of us, her presence commanding our attention. I threw a glance down both sides of the lines of girls, noting that they were all done up with heavy makeup and lingerie, just like me.

 

“Time for your big moment, ladies!” shouted the woman. “Keep things in an orderly line and only speak when you have been spoken to. Punishments for stepping out of line will be swift and severe. Am I understood?”

 

No one said a word, and I could tell by the woman’s smile that this was exactly what she wanted.

 

“Then let’s do this!”

 

The back doors of the room opened and the girls led the line of young women out one by one. Soon, I passed over the threshold into the dark, low-lit hallway. Through the walls, I could hear the bass of banging rock music and I wondered just what kind of party this was. Who were these men that stole women off the streets and bought them as though we weren’t even real people?

 

As I walked slowly down the hallway, I realized that I’d soon find out.

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