took his own phone out of his pocket to read a message and, when he looked up towards his boss, his eyes gleamed with a sadistic glee.
The bastard is having fun.
Mohammed's accented voice boomed through a speaker near the door.
"All guests have now arrived. Strictly Disciplined would like to thank all who have come from afar to partake in tonight's auction. As a gift of appreciation to you, we've added two additional lots to the docket tonight. Two Asian-American sisters in desperate need of breaking. While we don't have a portfolio write-up for them, as they were last minute additions, I can tell you that they are both confirmed to be disease free, anal virgins, and without any other living relatives."
Hannah's brain raced to internalize his words. Why would that last comment be important? The memory of Jake's stray comment earlier at the hole party flooded back to her. He'd described tonight's party as the kind where 'you never go home afterwards.'
She crawled forward, pounding on the window between them, but the glass was thick. The sound didn't even seem to register inside the small room.
"It's bullet-proof glass, Hannah. You're wasting your time. You can't break it, and they can't hear you," Jake said.
She watched in horror as Mohammed pushed a button on the remote control in his hand and a long, narrow hole opened in the floor just behind the women. A long bar with a six inch rounded banister rose from the floor, stopping at waist level just behind the women.
In unison, the rig in the ceiling securing the women's hands began moving back on automatic pulleys, forcing the women to fall backwards. Their bodies were being manipulated like puppets, made to bend back to expose their naked bodies for inspection.
Mohammed's words rang in the air. "We'll start with a demonstration of their pain tolerance and breast sensitivity." He started with the redhead next to Lucy, bringing the damn riding crop down across the underside of her small breasts. "As you can see, Penny is exceptionally responsive to pain." Her blood-curdling scream went on for so long that Hannah threw her hands over her ears to block it out.
Jake ripped her hands from her ears, pinning her arms painfully behind her back and forcing her to listen to every tragic moment. The torturer's next swipe had the end of the crop flicking against Penny's nipple before he moved to repeat his demonstration on Lucy.
When he moved on to Mia, Hannah could see her best friend trying to rally enough anger to deal with what was happening to her against her will, but when the leather tip of the crop slapped Mia's nipples over and over, her bravery crumbled and she screamed a long, forlorn cry of pain.
When the last of the five women had been cropped, Hannah let out a sigh, hoping the worst was over.
It wasn't.
Jake's demonic employee took his time, running his long fingers almost sensually down each woman's flat stomach to stroke their now on-display pussy until the captive would moan, a reluctant physical response to his manipulation of their clit. He roughly stroked each pussy as if to prove to prospective buyers that, despite their debasement, the women could be made to become sexually excited.
One by one, Mohammed brought each woman to near orgasm, only to stop short of delivering any satisfaction. Instead, he moved his juice-covered fingers to each woman's mouth, humiliating each of them by making them suck their own sexual excitement from his digits before he moved down the line.
When he had finished with his last victim, his remote control came back out, forcing the women's bodies into new, embarrassing contortions meant to humiliate and scare them.
It was working.
The next long bar came up slightly in front of the line of strung-up women. Before it was fully locked in place, their arms were pulled forward, bringing them off the supporting rail at their backs and thrusting them forward until their asses were sticking out, courtesy of the bar they were now bent over. The first bar returned to the floor, closing the long gap.
Hannah watched as Mohammed pulled a bag of what looked like clothespins out of his jacket pocket and began roughly clamping the ten nipples protruding from the breasts now hanging down towards the floor, pulled by gravity.
Mohammed started talking as if he were a used car dealer, hawking his wares to the buyers cloaked in anonymity behind two-way mirrors. He shared tidbits on each woman's medical history, pain