“Rape my body, fuck my body!” the voice on the radio blares as Jennifer gyrates her hips, thrusting them back and forth in what she hopes is a provocative show. She tries to stifle the tears as she hears the catcalls from the men gathered around the tables. At least twelve of them, each large or fat with tattoos and scars disfiguring their features.
“You go putita!” hollers one man, cupping his mouth.
She swings her hips, rubbing her breasts. “Rape my body, fuck my body!” the radio continues. “I’m Jessica! Celest! Mindy! ...” and the list goes on as Jennifer continues to move, turning around and spinning, knowing how the shorts and shirt now flare revealing her tender regions to these neanderthals. But she can’t stop, won’t stop, for the risk of more pain and misery that awaits if she does.
“Aaaahhhhh!!” the radio screams against its backdrop, making Jennifer stumble and halt for a minute. It sounded like a real scream. “No! Stop!” the girl on the radio begs. “No! Fuck me harder! Harder! Aaaahhhhh! Please stop!”
Another one? Thinks Jennifer. Another woman violated, forced to accommodate these men? Like her?
“Why’d you stop putita?” one voice yells. “Swing that fucking ass!”
Crying she lifts her arms over her head and turns around, spinning, trying to lose herself to the beat. But the more she listens the more the voices sound like different women begging. Begging and screaming as they’re abused. And Jennifer... Jennifer knows she’ll just become another casualty. Another statistic on the missing girl’s bracket. And this makes her heart ache all the more. No one will even know, or barely care.
“Stop,” the fat hispanic’s voice whispers behind her. “But continue to swing your hips.”
She does as she is told. “Whooooo!” yell the men, their testosterone filling the air, nearly choking her in the scent.
“Now,” says Hector’s voice next to her as he lifts a tape recorder to her mouth. “What’s your name?”
“My name is Jennifer Market,” she says. Her voice is shaking and she can barely suppress the tears that wish to stream down her face.
“Whooooo! I’m in the market for some white bitch!” yells one man.
She breaks now, the tears coming fully. “P-please....”
“Say what I told you or it will be worse!” hisses the fat man.
Choking back the sob she nods. “Please.... rape this bitch and make her cum. Make her scream! This bitch wants you to beat and rape her!”
Oh my god! What did she just say? Unable to hold back she claps her hands to her face, the tears streaming down her face.
“Yeah!” yells one man. “I’ll rape you good!”
“Me too!”
“Yeah!”
And the chorus goes on despite the tears that visibly fall from her eyes.
Hector spreads his arms wide, motioning for the radio to be shut off. With a click there is silence. Lowering his arms Hector smiles. “It has been a good year my men. Our market in the drug trade has increased. These American pendejos who lift their noses at us and look down on us pay us in their own greed and blood!”
“Yeah! Fuck the cabrones!” yells one man.
Hector nods. A little bit of wildness can be accepted.
“Today,” he says. “Is a day to celebrate! And the Americans have even been so generous as to give us one of their own for celebration!” He motions to Jennifer as he says this, noticing how she quakes in her position.
“A putita to fuck! Her holes ready and willing for it! You heard it from the whore’s mouth yourselves!”
Oh god, thinks Jennifer, cupping her mouth, eyes going wide. How did she get herself into this?
“And now,” says the man, lifting his cane into the air before the gathered room, the smoke thick in the air, making it hard for her to breathe. “Now! The caning begins!”
Caning? What caning! She was told nothing...
She sees the fat man’s eyes gleam. “You will do as you are told putita, or it will go worse. The caning is just to soften you up!”
She swallows, feeling a small amount of urine leak down her legs. “Now,” yells Hector. “We will start with her overripe melons! Each man here will begin by caning them three times and then we’ll move on to her ass!”
“Gonzales,” says the man, motioning to a medium sized man with no hair, a dragon twisting around his scalp. “You are first.” He hands the man his cane, who slaps it against his palm, smiling wickedly. Licking his lips he smiles.
“Get ready for it putita!” And the cane rises into the air. Jennifer screams before the cane even hits.
*******
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