Be advised that this sample chapter from Innocence Lost details the thoughts, actions and life of sex traffickers discussing taking young women and what they do to them. The language is explicit, and the sex acts described are horrific. Do not read if you are a victim of any form of physical abuse or violence, or you are offended by descriptions of sex and violence.
“I was so worried she’d start talking to me in fuckin’ Russian.”
Jamie was sitting in the mock photo studio, looking at Jack. He was right about coming close to being revealed he wasn’t “Vladimir.”
“It can be fixed. We just let you speak American, no Russian. It does help explain why there’d be work in Russia, but we can explain that some other way. We have a nice bevy, and just Friday to do her shots so they see what they’re buying. If she does, say no, you will only speak English in America.”
“I did that, and it worked okay. Yeah, she’s going to be worth the most, so I’ll try to get her naked. At least in a thong. You set to be the stylist?”
Walking to a box, Jamie came back with a small triangle and three strings.
“Jack, all the twats hang their asses out on Instagram. Tell her where the money shoots are they go topless. You know the drill. I’ll just hand it to her and tell her this is what we do. She doesn’t know shit about real work, and we play like we do. Don’t worry about it. Go fuck that Jenny. Get your mind off this stuff.”
“That is the first good thing I’ve heard today. You fuck her up? How much you give her?”
“She’s conscious, not knocked out. It’s E. She’s trippin’ and smiling at the air. Put your cock in her mouth and she’ll think it’s a lollypop. Christ, she’s 14, enjoy it. I have work to do. The keycard is on the table. 246, last room in case it gets loud.”
Turning all the gear and computer off, Jack said he’d secure her, but she still needed to be knocked out.
“I left that in the minisafe. Don’t mar her, okay? No bruises. Get your ass out of here.”
Grabbing the keycard off the long table where Jamie worked, just holding it felt good. He had joined Jamie for money, but young ass had become more important than his cut. He recalled meeting Jamie at a porn shoot, and she was the producer. She found young runaways, drugged them up, and he filmed them doing all types of sick sex. They didn’t even know what they were doing. The men in the shoots did, and they propped and positioned them, pulled their hair out of the way for his camera, and it was an assembly line operation. Same guys, endless girls. He talked to Jamie and said he’d like to do POV where they were sucking him off as he filmed from the guy’s eye view. She had agreed to start each girl doing him first, and she learned he was a good actor. He wondered what happened to the girls after each shoot as they were in films one time, but never twice. She looked him over and knew he was hooked on getting pussy without working for it, and she told him to hang back after a shoot one day.
“Jack, enjoying those sweet assholes and mouths? You’re doing, what, five or six a day?”
“Oh, yeah. I can’t get enough. And you have them so fucked up. What are you giving them?
“Opioids and some coke. It works for a while. I’m glad you’re having a good time, but I must say, you don’t ask them enough questions. All I hear you ask is how much they love your cock. Ever ask them how old they are?”
Looking at Jamie, she was cold and serious. She was holding a folder and handed it to him.
“Yeah. Good to ask a thing or two. All that POV of you with your dick in their ass or mouth? Be just fine if they were street legal. Not one of them are over 16.”
Rifling through pages of model sheets, there were their photos, ones of him with them, and copies of drivers permits. They were all underage. He realized she was going to use it on him.
“You’re the producer. That’s for you to weed out. I don’t see them except naked, and they don’t have purses or IDs when I do.”
Taking the folder back, she smiled, looking into his eyes.
“True. But, remember, I didn’t fuck them. You did. It’s your dick up their ass. And I’m not a producer. I’m temp labor. Really, do you think I’m that stupid? No, it’s you on the credits as producer. And what a bad thing to be using underage girls... Oh, these are just copies. Originals are tucked away. But take that scared look off your face. I think it’s time for you to move up in the world.”
Getting into the elevator, he recalled how clueless he had been. He wasn’t clueless now. He shook from that night when she told him he was moving up in the world. She said it was time to learn why none of the girls appeared more than once.
“Those videos are sent livestreamed to my clients. Most in Russia. By the time they fuck the last of the guys, I have prices for each one. They’re up for bid. Highest bid thing. And, come with me, I’ll show you what happens next.”
Leading him to a large room with about twenty beds, there were curtains dividing them, and a large woman injecting one who was making noise. He realized they were all being kept drugged. He was shook up, but remembered she had set him up by his onscreen exploits with all of them, and proof they were all underage. He asked what the hell all of it was.
“Inventory. You’ll learn all too soon. Tonight, we have a chartered plane to Russia and these girls will all be going to their owners. You and I, we’re going too. Meet our most loyal buyers. They want to meet you.”
He followed Jamie as she supervised the large woman taking each one to a large rental truck, and they were all laid in the back on padding, then the cargo door shut and locked. Next, a ride to a hangar where a jet waited, and after the huge hangar door was closed, the girls were tied, gagged and put on the plane, most all of them asleep. He was somehow sickened by it, but it excited him more than anything else. He had fucked each of them, and now it was someone else who’d be getting his seconds.
“Enjoy the ride. No fucking any on the way. They’re clean and ready for inspection.”
Sixteen hours later, they were in Russia. In the plane hangar, large men came in with a piece of paper stating which number girl their boss had purchased, and they took them out still drugged. In no time, the plane was empty. He asked how much she had made in total.
“An even million. About fifty a girl. These Russians have so much money they don’t haggle. They’ll make a hundred times what they paid for each one.
That was Jack’s first run of trafficked girls. Jamie told him she wanted out of porn, and to get better ones through modeling auditions. She was right. The porn girls were not as valuable — or as young — as the want-to-be models. He agreed to be the photographer and he earned a 25% cut and it was piling up, all tax free. He forgot about what he was actually doing, and the girls were just product to be sold. It was as simple as that in his mind.
Putting the keycard in the door, a 14-year-old he had “tested” was floating around the room naked except for some silk flowers from a vase in her hair. She came up to him, stared in his eyes, and she was smiling and saying he had come to make her a little pony. He said he would like to go for a ride. Next, she was on all fours, crawling around him, saying she was ready to be mounted. Taking off his clothes, he knew he was in for quite a ride, and she was sweet and delicious. Not even a hundred pounds, he reached and flipped her upside down as she said “ohh, wow” over and over as he put his face deep into all her holes as she sucked on him, saying it was a big lollypop, her brown hair so long it cascaded down to the carpeting.
Each day was a new girl, and each was the same, but different. The way they sucked was never the same, the way they tasted was different and unique. The way they moved was what excited him most. Their walk, their crawl, the way they knelt, the way they came. The sounds they made, the sighs, the whimpers, and as the drugs wore off, the way they cried, the looks on their faces when he smacked them to shut them up, and the way their eyes popped when he covered their mouths to stop their screaming as he threatened to kill them if they didn’t stop.
He could have given them more ecstasy or whatever Jamie had provided, but he got off on the awakening, the fear, choking them, threatening them, putting a washcloth in their mouths as they feared for their life as he fucked them and came from seeing their fear. It’s when he felt most aroused and powerful. Sometimes he was so high from power, he put his cock hard down their throats to where they couldn’t breathe, and they died from suffocation as he came. He knew Jamie would be pissed, and he told her to take their sale price out of his cut but it was an accident. He said he couldn’t tell as they were so drugged. He had done that two times, and he wanted it to happen more as that was his ultimate way of getting off. The only thing that stopped him every night was he knew Jamie would pop a cap in his head as he was messing with the merchandise, and it cost her reputation for the sale. He told her he needed to get off by choking, and lied it wasn’t to kill them.
“You’re one sick fuck, Jack. Really fucking sick. Want that shit? You couldn’t go out and find ones on your own? You had to use mine?”
She had a 45 in her hand and it was pointed to his face. She would use it. He had seen her use it before, and she was ready to kill him at any time.
“So, what fucking luck. You’re so good at the photographer shit, so charming, but you just have to be fucked up and get off by choking them? And two end up dead from that shit? Fuck, you are so pathetic. Do you know what a sick prick you are? Fuck… ah shit… You are going to fuck this all up. I’m going to end your shit right now…”
He sat, frozen as she started to squeeze the trigger. She didn’t hesitate. He could only stare and his mind was empty. In a second he’d be dead. Then, he saw her finger stop. He thought how funny it was that he could see that slight release and nothing else. He then realized that was all that mattered. Her finger on the trigger was the same as his hands around a young girl’s throat. He understood. He’d lay off if he wanted to scare them again, just get them choking then pull out and get off doing it.
“First off, thank me you fucker. I’m going to work this different.”
He sat, not able to move, but managed to quietly say, “Thank you. How?”
She didn’t pull the gun away, and she was still ready to fire.
“Do all the same shit, but no harming my merch. Once in Russia, that’s where you go get yourself off. Pay for it. You make a lot. The fuckers I sell to have lots of ones they can’t make more off of. Ask them what they want for them and choke away. Do that, I don’t give a fuck if you do. But anything with what’s mine, you’re one dead fucker. I’ll just off you. No more talks.”
He agreed. They made flights every two weeks, and he was making so much money that paying for girls in Russia didn’t matter to him. In some ways, it made him more excited as he could do even worse to them there. And he started to. Jamie had heard of some of the messes he made, and she told him there’s always a line. It wouldn’t be her offing him, it would be some Russian prick who’d gather up his pimps and they’d all watch. She told him it was his choice, and walked out.
Fucking the girl that night, he imagined her being one of the throw-aways he’d choose when they were in Russia the next night, and that got him off enough to cover her face in cum. She needed to be cleaned up, but he’d call Jamie first to inject her for the truck, and he’d wipe her clean. Jamie didn’t care about the cum, but she did look for any bruising, checking the throat, pussy, asshole, then all over. He knew better than to make that mistake as she always had her gun, and she was always reminding him that he was a sick fucker and she could find so many guys as good as him.
“Jamie, I’m done. She’s about down from the ecstasy, and I don’t want to shut her up and bruise her. Ready to take her?”
The phone clicked from her hanging up. She was just a few doors away, and she had her own keycard. As she came in, he had a wet washcloth and a towel, and he was about done. Jamie pulled her legs and ass apart, then rolled her over looking for any signs of possible bruising. She spotted one yellow patch, then looked up at him.
“That’s something she had already. Knees and girls this age. She’ll be in a garter and hose. You fill her with cum?”
“Just down her throat. Nothing else. I fucked her, but was careful.”
Pulling both her holes opened as far as she could, she needed to check. Nothing was oozing out and she couldn’t see anything, so hearing the girl start to moan from the pain of her inspection, she told Jack to hold her down. Going into her purse, she had a vial and a syringe, carefully pulling some cocktail into the tube to a mark she had made with a Sharpie. Tapping it, she went to her feet and injected it between her toes where it wouldn’t be seen. It always left a bruise anywhere else.
They both sat on the floor waiting as the girl eventually fell off into a coma-level sleep. They had to get her to the truck, and it was waiting in the basement garage near the elevator door. Getting the girl into a extra large black trash bag, they left the top loosely tied to allow air to enter. She told Jack to get the baggage cart outside the door. He opened the door, pulled it in, then closed the door. Putting the bag onto the flat bottom of the cart, she held the door open as he pushed the cart out and went to the elevator. She had closed the room and joined him. Once in the garage, they both lifted the bag into the rental truck. Jack drove to the hangar at the small airport, and it had a holding area for baggage. As they unlocked it, they carried the bag in, and after closing the door, they took her out of the bag and set her on the padding lining the floor. There were 18 girls all laying there, all asleep. She took out her syringe and went to each and juiced them up as she did each night until the flight was well on its way as they needed to be up, put in garters and hose, and fed. She had a different vial to keep them tame when they landed, and the plane put into a large private hangar used for the auction. Black curtains, music, a little stage to put them on display. It was well thought out, and her Russian partner owned the hangar and plane. He took a good cut, managed the buyers, and was a ruthless pimp.
“Okay, one more to go. Do all your shit as I need to send the photos before we go, but let’s get it done early. As soon as it’s dark, I want the fuck out of this shithole town. Are you going to off some bitch this time? Brian said he talked to you, and you fucking started to tell him he was asking too much. He has expenses you fucking idiot. He told me you do that again, you’re dead. You really are fucking stupid. Think he’s a man to haggle with?”
“He wanted to double the price!”
She stared at him, disgusted. She was losing her patience with him.
“Then pay it. That, or don’t do any. Now, I want you to apologize to him, and say you’re just a stupid fucking pervert. Then give him the money, and an extra payment to apologize. Not an advance. To show respect. Got it?”
“Yeah. You know he’s just being a dick because he can.”
Jamie sat, more pissed than ever at how stupid he was. He did the job, but he was pushing her limits. She’d needed to find a replacement.
“You motherfucking sick fucker. And some girl gets dead just because you can pay?”
She wanted to shoot him in the head right then. She had her hand in her purse, holding her gun. She sold girls, and that was risky enough. His killing shit was crossing the line. Too much exposure, and it gave her partner, Brian, one up on her. He’d probably taped each girl Jack offed, and she knew he’d use it at some time to punish her. It took all her resolve to not kill him right then. She decided to finish this run. The Angie girl would be the top dollar sell, and she knew that needed to happen first. After that, she’d pay Brian to off him. Then, she decided to just tell Brian she wanted to do it, and if he wanted to show his goons how she operated, gather them up. She’d say in exchange, no charge for disposal. If he didn’t want the show, she’d pay him. Either way, it was his last run.
Getting back from the airport, Jack said he’d have things ready on time, but needed to sleep. She said she’d be pissed if he didn’t have it all set up in time as she turned to go to her room.
She needed to talk to Brian before she got her sleep. She used the encrypted satellite phone for the call.
“Brian, no, no problems with the goods. I want to see if you wanted to put on a show for your new guys. No, not about pussy… about what happens when someone fucks up. I need to put a 45 in Jack’s head… yeah, I know, you make money off him but killing girls? You’ll make more whoring them out for chump change, really, and the risk is he’ll do it here… I think you take a risk too. He knows too much, and he’d fuck you over if he had to… Okay, we agree. So, we have one more, the top dollar girl, then we head out tomorrow night. So, want to put on the show, or I’ll just do him and pay you to put him through the chipper… Good. I’ll pop him, and I think your guys will learn a lot seeing me do it. How did your clients like the last batch… Good. Yeah, the top girl is just 16, but after her I’m not taking any over 16 now… Younger? Well, that’s what, down to 10? I can do it, but it will take a bit of time. Moms show up for those things, so I’ll have to go slow at first… Oh, the 14 to 16s… Sure, no stopping those. It will cost more to get down to 10… Yes, I know you can get twice as much… Hey, I’m all for twice as much. Like I said, let me figure out how best to do it. It’ll probably be grab and snatch shit, not fashion shows. Lots of risk. Do you have any guys who I could bring here for it, then bring them back each time… Yeah, I think that would be good. Well, let’s use me doing Jack to show them what I’d do to them if they fuck up at all… Yeah, sounds good. Want to pick one for a trial run… You sure of him… Oh, he does it there? That’s just what I need. Speak English… Excellent… Yeah, all set then. See you in what? 48 hours… Oh, these are all top dollar bitches. I did this shit town full of low life, and they’ll probably see being owned as a step up… Yeah, all tall, thin, long hair. Flawless skin. Sweet ass, all top quality… Yeah, dinner with a new buyer? Sure… Oh, I see. He wants the tens… Okay, I’ll ask him what color hair, body type, all that… No, you talk money, I’ll talk cunt type. Sounds good. See you soon.”
She’d need to think about the new request. With his guy, he knew how to do it, and she’d learn from him. She needed to keep the runway auditions going, so she’d need a new photographer. And he’d need to be okay taking pictures of the new merchandise. Well, she’d need to find one who got off on that. The world was one fucked up place. That shouldn’t be hard to find. There were sites where guys sold pictures of those, so probably best to find one from there. They’d be sick, like Jack, but with ones that sick, they already knew what they wanted, and they knew the risk.
A few miles away, Angie was lying in bed, unable to sleep. In a short while, she knew her life was set to change. She was too excited to sleep. Her way out of Aurora had come. Soon, she’d be far away from the Hunter Motor Home Estates.
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