Daddy's Curse: A Sex Trafficking True Story of an 8-Year Old Girl

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Chapter 4: Broken

…Sixteen Months Later

The room was quiet and dark. It had been specially built with two small windows that had strong iron bars and tinted glasses to keep the sun out as well as make it impossible for anyone to see what was going on inside.

I didn’t know what day it was. I hardly do anymore. I could only feel few rays of the sun stubbornly slithering into the room, and lighting up everywhere with dim bright colors. No lamp was lit. None had ever been. Electricity only went as far as the passage and the sitting room. The room I was in was usually used by two clients, who were usually very particular about dark rooms and hiding their identities.

I wasn’t anxious. It wasn’t my first time either ever since my arrival in Chiang Rai. With the beauty of the large city came sadness for the girls and I, and half of us had already accepted our fates. We had begun to live our lives as the decadent young girls we have been made to become.

As I lay on the bed, nothing else crossed my mind except for the expectation that my client would come in, defile me as he did once in a week, wipe himself afterwards and leave me to sob all alone.

He slid in through the door eventually, his burly figure always being the significant thing about him. He smelled of fresh shave and breathed like he smoked all the time. There was a loud click as he locked the door behind him, groaned like a famished animal and began to step towards me.

“Are you ready for me today as always, little one?” his croaky voiced resounded through the room walls.

He asked the same question all the time as if my opinion mattered. The first time he was with me and I had tried to resist him, we had ended the session with half of my chest stained with my own blood. I had nursed a broken lip and swollen eyes for weeks and no one had offered to help. The other girls had problems of their own to solve.

“How about we try something different today, uh?” He was asking me now.

I hadn’t noticed that my gaze had glued to the ceiling as soon as he stepped into the room. I stared at him now, noticing a small shiny object in his hand. He was flinging it around as if to prepare me for whatever he could do to me with it.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice almost failing me.

I didn’t have that girl-like voice anymore. In fact, I had no voice. It was only a faint whisper; one that had become a part of me ever since the innocent and free girl in me had been ripped off.

“Hell, I don’t even know what it is.” I heard him laugh. “You are supposed to drink half of it and feel so good while we are at it.”

He slid towards me on the bed, his fingers already trailing the edges of my slender legs. I knew what the object in his hand was now. It was a small bottle with a very familiar blue liquid. New girls in the shed were made to drink it the first time a man was to be with them. It slowed down their senses and weakened them, making it impossible for them to know what was happening until rods were deep in their thighs and they were bleeding out with pain.

For the girls who had been through that stage already – as I have – drinking the blue liquid only made it impossible to go through the formidable activity of sex – without remorse, without restraint to not enjoy every part of it.

“So, are you going to drink it, little one?”

Little One, I thought with a sad smile. The name had stuck for the past two years. It was the name Tuya called me. It was also the name she had adopted whenever she introduced me to the men. Those that had forced their horrid dicks into the hole between my thighs also muttered the name whenever they needed me to do something that they liked…or whenever they were near the end of their lust.

Tonight, it was about getting high on a drug and doing horrible things I might not like.

I didn’t tell him though. I couldn’t. I wasn’t allowed to say anything I wasn’t asked or told to say. So, I just opened my mouth instead, indicating that he could feed me the opium. The liquid burnt my throat as usual before settling down in my already-anxious body and getting the entire hair on it erect.

“Well, you took it all instead of half.” I heard him giggle. “Today is really about doing something different.”

I only nodded, fear already creeping into my heart. I could feel my small breasts growing hard. My nipples hardened too while every inch of my body began to feel a drop of sweat.

“It is already working, isn’t it?” I heard him ask.

I nodded quickly, having no complaint in the world as his hands gripped my dress and tore it off me with a single yank. I was naked underneath. We always were. His strong palm gripped my throat afterwards while his other hand went to one of my breasts. He gripped tightly, squeezing remorselessly.

“Beautiful, little one.” He said. “They are just beautiful…your breasts.”

He bit on them hard while he groaned happily. He squeezed my throat too, seeming pleased every time that I choked. I was in-between mouth intake of breath when he suddenly knelt beside me and jerked his manhood into my mouth.

Somehow, despite how nauseated I ought to feel, it felt like a relief having his rod deep inside my mouth instead of his palm around my neck. I did what he wanted. I choked on it first before biting softly and suckling at the same time. It was big, but I managed to push half of it deep into my mouth without hurting myself.

“Take it all in.” I heard him say. “Swallow everything.”

I did. I don’t know how or what urged me on, but I did. I reached up, knelt and closed my palms around the end of his rod. I jerked back and forth, pulling out and pushing in his manhood through my lips until nothing else was out to grip.

“It really worked magic uh, the liquid. You have never been this mild.”

He was laughing at my obedience. They always did, despite that we had no choice than to be obedient.

He was shedding off every bit of esteem I had left, and I could only do everything he wanted. It was how it ended soon. There was no use fighting it. I had tried to. We all had at one point in the past two years and we always get back to the point where we must be raped by more than one man.

“Well, I think it is high time we get to real business, little one. You only have to lay still. I won’t hurt you.”

He always said this before the pain began. They all did. It was usually that moment before my frail fragile body would be laid on the bed while my thighs are spread apart for easy penetration. It hurt all the time.

“Good girl. There. Just lie there.”

He was aggressively pushing me towards the center of the bed. I tried to see the expression on his face, but I could make out nothing except for his pointed nose and short hair. He was huge too, his wide shoulders seeming like a shadow that was about to devour me whole.

“Please.” I managed to whisper.

It was too late. It always was. He knelt in front of me, spread my thighs wide and forced it in, the pain was indescribable. Everything became blurry afterwards as groans filled the entire room. It was always their groans against our silence.

It was late in the evening by the time I stepped out of the room, my torn dress clutched to my chest. I could see the descending sun as well as the rays of orange light through the small window at the end of the passage. With sadness always creeping in my heart nowadays, I ignored the urge to admire both and slowly began the stride towards the resting room instead.

Resting room. It was the name we had to give to the two rooms where we all slept. This was because Tuya or Xanadu always barked at us to head to the rooms and rest before another client arrived and needed our service.

There shouldn’t be a reason to mince words. Tuya had gotten us through hell just to land us in another one. We were her whores now. The promises of finding a safe place for us were all lies. We were never going to be united with our families. We were goods to Tuya – some sort of objects that could be used and reused by the men that patronized her little whorehouse.

Tuya had been strategic with the location of the house. It had been built at the edge of the city to keep activities around us minimal as well as make it feel like a safe haven to her clients instead. Local authorities came around sometimes and they either asked for money or asked to go a few rounds with the girls. We had once thought they could save us but that was in the past now. Any shred of hope was in the past now.

When I got into the restroom, I deliberately dropped my dress to the floor and heaved a long sigh. The room was dark and empty. It wasn’t my excuse anyway. I was just exhausted. My entire body hurts. At the top of all these was the tears that began to rush down my cheeks as I thought about how over ten men had slept with me in the span of just four days. Despite all the drugs, I didn’t enjoy any of them. Some of the men slapped me. Most of them pushed their heavy weight atop of me, making it impossible to breathe…to exist.


Someone was in the room with me. I suddenly noticed a slow movement at the end of the room. Wincing, I stepped towards the bed there and bit my lips, realizing who it was.

“Cyril.” I said. “Are you okay?”

Cyril shook her head. She was crying too. The straps of her dress hung down her shoulders while her entire back dripped of sweat.

“What is wrong?” I asked her.

“Everything.” Cyril whispered, her voice rising into a wail. “Everything!” She repeated. “I will never be okay with everything.”

I understood what she meant. I felt the same thing, although I felt that I was doing fine than she was. Cyril had always been the most emotional one amongst us. She still felt traumatized ever since her first rape. Her nightmares were constant now. She screamed every night and sometimes told me that she had the urges to end her own life.

“Just a few more years.” I told Cyril.” Tuya promised us we would only have to work here seven years and she would give us freedom.”

“Freedom.” Cyril said, her voice seemingly distant. “You speak as if it would ever feel as it should feel after everything we have done…. after everything that has been done to us.”

I didn’t have the answers that Cyril wanted. Lost for words, I only stepped towards her and held her hand. I sat on the bed and pulled her towards me, so she could sit and lay her head on my laps. I began to play with her hair then, the room echoing with her sobs. She had long since cut her hair half, opining that it made her feel – as she should feel – less than the girl she once was.

I remember the first few days we had both been in the restroom, excited about Chiang Rai. Tuya had returned the first evening with two men and had introduced them as caretakers. She had made us look good first before arranging us in a single line in front of them. They came into the restroom, grinning like hungry wolves. Eventually, both men had nodded as if they were pleased with what they had seen, and had left the room for the next one.

That night, two of the older girls didn’t eat dinner with us. We could hear loud groans and faint whispers in the other rooms but Tuya had told us that it was nothing. She told us not to ever be afraid and we believed her. Eventually, four nights later, late in the night, strong arms had come for us, dragging us into the other rooms.

I could remember how loud I screamed, thinking it was one of my few nightmares. I thought I was being kidnapped again but the thought ended when I was dragged to the passage and standing in front of me was Tuya. She smirked briefly at me and nodded at the men behind me. They turned out to be Hulagu, Xanadu and a few other men I hadn’t seen before. I wasn’t even aware Hulagu had returned from the desert days before.

“She is ready.” Tuya told the men, pointing to me. “She can be a hellcat too, so do not have any chances with her.”

The same things were said of Cyril too. We were both dragged off in different directions afterwards, and then our clothes were torn off promptly before our bodies were pulled into dark rooms. I cried throughout the whole night. I couldn’t move around the house myself for a while. My muscles hurt. I felt lightheaded all the time.

“Do you remember them at all?” It took me a second before I could jolt my mind back to the present. Cyril had asked a question. I thought she was falling asleep but apparently, she was lost in thoughts as well.

“Remember them?” I inquired.

“Your parents.” Cyril whispered. “It’s only been two years and I can no longer remember mine. I only remember that Clifford bakes good cakes every Friday.”

“Clifford? Was that your father’s name?” I whispered.

“No.” Cyril said. “He comes around to look after me whenever Dad wasn’t around.”

I nodded, my mind temporarily drifting off to the delicious food that Mother cooked too. There was no way I could remember the precise taste but there was no avoiding the image of how excited I was whenever she did the cooking.

“So, do you remember their faces?” Cyril asked again.

I didn’t know what to say. I thought I would but the imagination of Father’s seldom smile was no longer profound in my head. Saran would be older now, I thought. I couldn’t even remember the sound of her laughter or Mother’s smile as she watched us play.

“I don’t think I do.” I finally told Cyril.

There was absolute silence afterwards. Cyril heaved a long sigh and slept, her fingers still clutching mine while my other hand caressed her hair. I closed my eyes too, knowing fully well it wasn’t the end of the day yet.

We only had a few minutes of solitude to ourselves. If we were lucky, we would go the rest of the night without having any man force himself into us anymore.

But we have never been lucky ever since we were taken from our home.

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