Girl on the Edge: No Victims in This Game of Sex Trafficking and Corruption

Chapter Two: No Victims In This Game

Angel finished her night at the PD club. But her night itself wasn’t actually done.

Rich dropped her back off at the thrift store she was at earlier. He threw her a few bucks that she made earlier. She could use the money for whatever she wanted, usually food or cigarettes.

She walked to the McDonalds on one end of the parking lot. The night staff were not surprised by her attire. They frequently had girls come in at all hours of the night, during all times of the year, in even less clothing than Angel’s studded bra, vest, shorts and combat boots. This area was known to be crawling with girls looking for work and willing to get their knees dirty for quick money.

Angel pocketed the money Rich gave her, and headed to the back of the McDonalds. She scaled the fence surrounding their dumpster, and began rummaging through the trash. Finding some old buns that were only a few days expired, she helped herself.

Angel knew the restraunt’s schedule. They had to throw out perfectly good food on the expiration date. Those were the days she could eat for free, like today.

She proceeded to climb back over the fence and walk back across the parking lot. She lit up a cigarette as she walked. It wasn’t long before a car pulled up next to her. Quickly, she opened the door and got it. She knew if she tried to negotiate before getting in, she could be picked up for loitering.

It was easy. The guy wanted oral before he made his way home. Ten minutes and fifty bucks later, Angel pulled herself out of his car. He sped off, to no doubt go home and kiss his unknowing wife.

She continued along the outer edge of the parking lot, closest to the busy road. She had just gotten to the pizzaria, which was closed for the night, when she heard the faint sound of shouting over the cars roaring past.

She turned to her left, looking across the busy road. There seemed to be a brawl going on at the gas station across the way. There were four people. One girl, Angel recognized from the PD club, screaming at a man who was handcuffing her and dragging her to his near by car. The other two men were also shouting. One, laying on the ground, face down, the other, handcuffing him with one knee in the center of his back. They were obviously police officers arresting the two for soliciting sex. But the police weren’t in uniform.

It was hard to hear what was being said, and hard to see as well. But when the man arresting the guy on the ground, looked up, their eyes met, and Angel’s eyes narrowed. She couldn’t be sure, but his appearance was very similar to the man at the club earlier that night.

That’s when Rich’s truck pulled up in front of her, blocking her view of the scene.

“Get in” he ordered sternly.

Quickly obeying, Angel barely had the door shut behind her before Rich burned rubber out of the parking lot.

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Back at Rich’s house, only a mile away from the arresting scene, Angel slid out from Rich’s truck. Rich put his arm around her neck, resting it across her shoulders, and led her inside.

Once inside, with the door closed, Rich called to her.

She turned, only to recieve a hard backhanded slap across her cheek. She gasped softly, but kept her head turned away from him.

The other girls in the room turned to watch and see what he would do next.

He put his hand out. Angel reached into her pocket, pulled out the money he gave her for food and the money she made, and put it in his hand.

“Upstairs” he said to her quietly, motioning with his head to the stairs.

She turned and made her way upstairs. He followed her and instructed her to his bedroom.

Once in his bedroom, he gave her a one-handed shove towards the bed. She stumbled, but gained her balance quickly.

“Strip” he ordered.

She obeyed without thinking. Once bare, she felt a hard slap on her ass.

“On your knees over the bed.”

Again, she obeyed without thinking, kneeling on the floor, head rested on the bed, arms out stretched above her head. She heard him pull his belt free from his pants.

SMACK.

She felt the sting of the leather belt across her ass…and again…and again. He whipped her over and over, her tender flesh stinging and bright red. A few tears fell as a natural reaction to the pain, but inside, she was numb.

He beat her a few more times.

“Never talk back to a potential client. Never hurt a client!” he hissed at her as the lashing came with every word.

His arm tired, he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her down to the floor at his feet. She lay motionless, not daring to look up at him. He grabbed her ass, rolling her a bit to get a good look at her red, welted and quickly bruising flesh.

He sighed “fuck. Looks like you’ll have to be over a Frank’s for a few days til your ass heals. No one pays for bruised whores.”

He reached down and grabbed her by a handful of hair, pulling her onto the bed. He forced her onto her stomach, gently running a hand down her spine. She heard him unzip his pants, one hand on her ass still. He straddled her and forcefully pushed himself into her.

She tensed, burrying her head into the bed. It took most of her strength to refrain from crying out as her took her how he pleased. His thrusting rough and forceful, he ended as quickly as he began. He rolled off of her, landing on the bed next to her, panting.

She laid still.

He gave her ass another slap as he caught his breath and sat up.

“You know” he said, moving back to the edge of the bed “there are no victims here. Not in this game.”