Trafficked Love Ch. 17 - Sex Stories

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Trafficked Love Ch. 17

Date: 4/3/2015, Categories: Fiction, Blackmail, Cruelty, Death, Discipline, Domination/submission, Drug, Extreme, Job/Place-of-work, Mind Control, Non-Erotic, Prostitution, Slavery, Torture, Violence, Written by women, Young, Author: ObedientAngel, Rating: 69.2, Source: sexstories.com

were buying drinks, and chatting, the smaller groups of people littered throughout the warehouse, conversing, trading, and comparing their weapons, the booths set up for trading and selling various weapons and drugs, the various beds hanging from the ceiling, where couples could, and were, doing the deed for all to see… It was a lot to take in. Spotting a bar that didn’t seem too crowded, Dante made his way over and ordered a bottle of beer. Cautiously, he made his way through the crowd, looking around at all the people, the products for sale, and took it all in. That’s when he spotted her. She was watching him, standing in the middle of the crowd, watching him. There was no doubt about it. She just stood there, still as a statue as the rest of the warehouse around her continued to move, her eyes locked on him. He looked her over. Her black dress, with it’s low cut, showing the curves of her breasts, the leather looking stockings and the black platform heels, her dark make-up and messy hair, and the faint trace of bruising on her face was more noticeable on her pale flesh than she probably wanted. There was a look in her eyes that Dante couldn’t place. She was unusually stubborn for a girl in the lifestyle, but there was a flash of anger in her eyes, a fiery, burning anger deep in her dark eyes. Was she angry with him? He was still mauling over the anger in her, when she approached him. She gave him a smile, a very fake smile, but a smile none the less, and grabbed his ... hand. She led him to a VIP booth where some girls were just picking up their drinks and leaving. Dante wasn’t sure what she was up to, but he wasn’t going to argue. Angel motioned for him to sit, and when he had situated himself in the booth, she sat next to him, crossing her legs over his lap. He seem surprised, but he did not object. Instead, he simply placed one hand on her legs, and looked about the room. Angel watched him quietly for a moment, before looking out into the crowed to see what he was looking at. When she spotted the two men who seemed to be uneasy as they talked, constantly looking around themselves, fidgeting and clearly agitated, she looked back and forth between them and Dante, realizing he was watching them. “Roaches,” she whispered in his ear. His brow furrowed as he turned to look at her. “Roaches,” she repeated, then rolled her eyes as she realized he had no clue what she was talking about. “You really don’t know anything about this life do you?” His brow remained furrowed. “I would be lucky enough to get the one cop that doesn’t know shit,” she mumbled more to herself than to Dante. The slight wince he gave in response to her comment almost made her regret saying it. Almost. Dante clearly knew his way around the lifestyle, his mere presence at the annual was proof of that. Not just anyone was invited to the annual, you had to be fairly well known and trustworthy. It was to ensure the safety of those in the life, to ensure that police didn’t just stumble ...