Soiled

Lily woke naturally as the first rays of light pierced the heavy dust within her tiny haven. Beyond the moth-eaten curtains were cars that zoomed past with invigorating speed, birds that chimed over the dull roar of the city, and towers that scraped the heavens. The city was a fascinating stranger to her.

She glanced down at herself. She had not taken off her blouse last night and now it was wrinkled. If Carmen saw that, she would be working overtime tonight. Lily sighed and made an effort to push herself off the mattress, still warm and comfortable. In a few strides she was at the window—the size of a ship’s porthole, really—enjoying the coolness of the wood floor on her bare feet. The air outside hinted oil, but she liked it because that was how her father used to smell. It was only slightly past dawn; she had made a habit of waking up at dawn each morning, because she had found out only too late that Carmen’s lowliest girls were also handled by the most vulgar of her men. While Carmen had ordered them to wake the girls at seven, excessive liquor made them forgetful and it was not unusual to awake to raucous banging on the door thirty minutes before. A man with a hangover did not wait on anyone.

Another morning.

Was there another strip show at Purgatory tonight? She couldn’t recall Carlos saying anything about it, but she hoped that there wouldn’t be. Her performance the night before was abysmal; even the audience—usually too dazzled by the other undressing women to notice her—became aware of her lack of enthusiasm, and it had gotten worse when that man looked straight at her, his eyes so powerful, so green. She remembered his lips close to her ear, saying the words that every man who took her seemed to know, and she hated him instantly.

Get on your knees.

“No…” But it was only a whisper that lingered on her own frail lips and drifted off into the morning sunlight, unheard, useless.

“Get up!” There was several quick raps at the door. Shaking her head as if to clear it of all thoughts, she turned away from the window. “Dammit, bitch, get up!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

She got to the door as the rapping grew louder. With a sigh she braced herself and opened it. A stumpy man with a goatee growled at her, fingers twitching at his side where he wore his baton. “You lucked out,” he mumbled, “Get that sweet rump of yours upstairs, now.” His eyes wandered. He allowed himself to give a firm tap to her buttock before she turned and headed upstairs, her face unreadable.

The guard was balding and his breath stunk of soured wine. Lily would have liked nothing more than to spit at him. Maybe stomp on his nuts until they flattened like grapes, claw at his pudgy fingers until they became bloody, shapeless lumps, until…until they couldn’t hurt anyone again, ever again.

Just words, Lily. That’s all you ever have.

She climbed up to the second floor and turned right into a dingy mess hall. Fluorescent lamps swung from rusty chains, casting a glare that jumped from chipped plate to chipped plate and emphasized the thin layer of dust on the silverware. Glum women in their early thirties stood behind polished countertops and scooped mush onto the waiting plates. The guards were there too—all men—batons clipped readily to their sides. The twenty-or-so young women in the room avoided eye contact with them, their faces averted from the men in fear. Lily saw herself in some of them.

She grabbed a plate of brown mush and scanned the hall, looking for a good place to sit down. Not by the walls, she thought, eyeing the dimly-lit edges of the room with mistrust. There were guards who enjoyed standing there, camouflaged by shadows, waiting for an unsuspecting woman to come to them like insects in a Venus flytrap. Snap. Caught. A feel here, a squeeze there…The mess hall was a noisy place. No place for unwilling women. Unwilling meat like Lily was better off sitting near other uptight whores.

“E-Excuse me…?” A timid voice mumbled something behind her, startling her. Lily turned, her plate colliding with person behind her. Brown gunk flew through the air.

“I-I’m sorry!” A young girl, her eyes brimming with terror, stared at Lily. She couldn’t be more than sixteen years old. Brown mush was entangled in her braided hair and dribbled down her legs. Such pale legs. Did she know that they were shaking? Didn’t she know that fear was preyed upon here? A large brown stain soaked through her stark white shirt, and Lily cringed for her. If Carmen saw, if any of the guards saw…

She wanted to scream at her. What are you doing, girl? Don’t you know that they feed on your weakness? Stupid, stupid girl. She wanted to knock some sense into her. But more than anything she wanted to comfort her like a little sister after her first rejection from a boy. But instead—

“Now look what you’ve done!”

The words just tumbled out of her mouth, and she immediately hated herself for them. The girl’s lips trembled. But that was the last of her worries. She heard the familiar footsteps. Loud, dominating.

“What seems to be the problem here, ladies?” said Carlos, sneering.

“It was her fault!”

Her words meant to hurt. Her finger pointing, dirty. Why play dirty, Lily? A voice inside taunted. Fear gripped her like an icy fist. Because she’s young? Because you were only seventeen when they took away your innocence? Carlos turned to her. “Is that so?” His eyes traveled over the spilled food on the floor and landed on the face of the new girl. So…young. He licked his lips impatiently. So pink. “What’s your name, girl?”

“Rose…s-sir…”

He walked towards her, standing so close that his breath lapped at her face. “New, aren’t you? I know your kind. You’re new, hot, and the rules don’t apply to you. Is that it…?” She shook her head fiercely, but he placed his large hands on her hips and thrust his crotch against hers. Lily saw her eyes widen, but the girl dared not push him away. His hard-on pressed teasingly into her. The entire mess hall watched them, breaths held. Carlos hissed. “You know what we do to naughty girls here, Rose? You want me to show you, baby, that it?”

“N-No…! It won’t hap-happen again…s-sir...Please!”

He couldn’t contain himself any longer. He pushed her backwards into a long table, pinning her down with no difficulty, trapping her beneath him. Holding her still with one hand, he unbuttoned, then unzipped her jeans with the other, pulling it down until the material piled around her ankles. His own pants came off in a second, revealing an angry swollen member. Red. The color of pain. The girl looked up at him, blinking the tears out of her eyes. “I’ll teach you, whore…” He entered her roughly, his thick member groaning in satisfaction as her body stretched to take in his size. A hand moved up underneath her stained blouse. He cupped one of her breasts into a muscular hand and squeezed, first lightly, then harder, until she cried out from the pain.

She whimpered, but he was too far gone to care, red shining lust filling his vision as he rode his thick rod into her. He felt her tear inside. He was stretching her hole beyond her years. But Carlos was a beast of carnal lust. He didn’t tire. He brought his face close to hers and whispered, “Tell everyone in the hall you want it bad.

“Say you want it.”

His fingers closed on a nipple and tugged. “Say it!” The girl screamed, shaking her head violently. He pounded into her faster than before, panting deeply. The table shook with their combined weight. The mess hall reeked of a mixed odor of sweat and the brown mush, and Lily felt sick.

“Say it!” Carlos pinched the girl’s ass, grunting with pleasure when she arched into him, his cock buried inside her. Tears fell from her eyes like rain. “Say it! Say it!”

Lily wanted to say the words for her. Soon the girl would give in, she knew. She broke the same way herself, one year ago. Carlos was so large, so merciless.

“I want to hear you say it!” He slapped her across the face. The force of it sent her head reeling back, hitting the wooden table with a dull thud. Then, finally—

“Iwannit…”

Carlos paused, his hand in midair, poised to hit her again. “What did you say?”

“I…I want it bad.”

Carlos laughed. “Baby, I knew you’d come around.” His hands caressed her abused breasts, fondling the places he’d bruised. He pressed his lips against hers gently—a kiss that gloated over its suffocating power. With a final thrust, he groaned and pulled out of the girl, stroking himself. His seed splattered on her stomach. Domination. It was all about controlling his victims, rendering them naked and helpless before him. Taunt them, touch them, and they’ll be begging with him in a matter of minutes. Carlos, as Carmen’s head guard, was more than capable of putting a few stray wenches in line.

Gradually, talk was flooding into the mess hall again, as if what had happened was only a mildly-interesting sideshow. Carlos dressed himself and sat down next to Rose, still sprawled across the table, sobbing and clutching her body.

“You gonna be a good girl from now on?”

She nodded. A thin trickle of red blood pooled on the tiled floor, between her open legs. Red. Pain. Carlos left her, snickering to himself. Lily was still standing there, flecks of brown gunk caking in her hair. She wanted to reach out to the girl lying on the table, where she had just been raped in front of a roomful of people. Men who felt themselves harden at the sight of her young body being ravished, groped, thoroughly fucked. And the women…cold bitches relieved and happy that it had been the new girl who was taught a lesson, and not them. But there was nothing she could do for her. Kindness here was weakness, and she didn’t want to risk herself for this stranger.

Bitter, bitch? She held out longer than you, didn’t she.

“Come on. Rose, right? Come sit by us.”

Who? Who would associate herself with the new girl and risk being singled out? Who was this foolish?

“Rose…What he did…it—it happens a lot here. You have to be careful.” The girl had stopped in front of Rose and knelt beside her, gently helping her put on her clothes. Lily thought she had seen her before. A seasoned veteran. Naomi, that was the name. Cropped hair dyed a dark shade of violet. Hardcore Naomi, shouldn’t she know better than to show compassion to someone Carlos had marked as his bitch?

“Let’s go, Rose,” said Naomi, eyeing Lily distastefully. Then, quieter, “You don’t have to be around that whore.”

I’m not a whore, thought Lily. I wanted to help her, I really, really did.

Bitter, aren’t you? She held out much, much longer than you. You were begging after a minute.

“No…”

She sank to her knees. Around her was the clattering of spoons. And her own thoughts, spiraling down into the dust.

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School has started again, and I was sick with the flu, so sorry for the delay.

Actually, I'm still a little sick right now, but I figured, hey, there is risque business to be written about, should be a good cure as any.

Just what the doctor ordered.

Comments appreciated as usual. I regret that I don't have the time to answer all the reviews individually this time, but as long as all you readers keep responding, so will I.

Thank you.

Possibly more Vitale in the next chapter. You like that, huh?

REVIEW, PLEASE! (Pretty please?)