*Note: This story contains kidnapping, rape, sex slavery/trafficking, and other topics that may be triggering to some. Read at your own peril!*
There had been whispers about the club building on King St for years; that it was a secret society for the ultra-wealthy, that it was a mob headquarters, that it was a satanic cult. All that I knew was that I stayed far away from it if I ever had to walk in that area. Going an extra block out of my way was a small price to pay to not be abducted by lizard people or the Illuminati. If only that was enough…
The last thing I remember is that I was walking home from school, when my mouth and nose were suddenly covered with a cloth and big, strong arms wrapped around me. I saw a black town car pull up and then … Nothing.
When I came to, I was in a cage. It was maybe 4 feet across, 7-8 feet long, and 4 feet tall. The floor was a plush black faux fur, there was a metal toilet along the far wall, and there was a pillow and blanket along one of the long sides. Looking around, I saw another few cages around me, but no one was in them … What was this place? As I took this in, the fear bubbled up in me and I just sobbed.
It felt like I was crying for ages, but eventually I just couldn’t cry anymore. I knew I had to get out, so I started slamming my hands on the door and yelling for help, but there was none to be found.
When I gave up, I heard a door open up though I couldn’t see where. I started yelling for help again, thinking I might finally be rescued. A well-dressed woman walked up to my cage and I began crying again; I was saved! God, if only.
She looked at me for a moment and then said, “welcome to The Market House. This will be your home until you’re sold; I suspect that won’t be long, given how flawless your body is. We want to keep you that way, so…”
She pulled out a controller and pushed a button, causing a shock to jolt out into my neck; I hadn’t even noticed the shock collar. I collapsed to the floor and she reached in, shoving a needle into my shoulder and injecting me with something. My eyes closed and the world went dark.
I remember only flashes of the next … hours? Days? I have no idea. I have two memories as I was washed in showers, one while they gave me laser hair removal over my whole body, and one when they had me walking on a treadmill like a zombie. I must’ve been conscious, but they had me drugged to my very limits.
My final memory of the Market House was standing on a platform in front of a whole crowd of well-dressed people, mostly men. The room was luxuriously appointed, with dark hard wood on the walls, huge leather and velvet chairs in the audience, and beautiful chandeliers hanging down from the ceiling. I was screaming inside my head, but the drugs kept me sedated. Looking to my sides, I saw other young girls like myself, all naked except their collars. A few tears ran down my face, but I said nothing.
Each of us was auctioned off. I was lot #6. I don’t know exactly how much I was sold for; I’d say I didn’t care, but a part of me really did. If I was being sold into slavery, I’d at least want to be an expensive one. Before the sale, several people came up to the stage and inspected us; bending us over, sliding fingers into all our holes. It was utterly humiliating.
Once I was purchased, I was dressed in a robe and slippers and led to a limo waiting in a dark alley. Sitting across from me was my new owner, a man who introduced himself as “Mr. X, but you will call me only ‘Master’.” I just silently cried and stared out the window as we left. It was then that I realized: we were at the King St club. I KNEW that place was evil!
We drove for what felt like forever and I eventually fell asleep. I woke up when Master said “we’re here” and the door opened to show a giant, rustic mansion. My jaw just dropped. Who WAS this man?! Who was … my owner?
He attached a leash to my collar and led me inside, through a giant foyer and up an expansive staircase, then finally to a room containing a huge canopy bed, a TV, a computer, and other amenities. He detached the leash and walked out, closing the door behind him. Just before he stepped out, he looked at me and said, “welcome home, slave.”
I stripped off the robe and fell onto the bed, crying quietly until I fell asleep.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/n0v68r/the_club_part_1_kidnapping_slavery