Sold into Slavery by Claire Thompson Page A

plead, “Please, sir, uh, Master. You can’t keep me like this. There’s been some terrible mistake. I’m an American citizen.”
    “Not another word!” Khalil boomed. He was glowering down at her, fury moving like a storm over his face. “Foolish, evil girl! You said you had learned your lesson! Now you go on babbling as if you had a right to speak! You have no rights! You exist now solely for my pleasure.”
    He took a breath and ran his hands down his chest, as if trying to regain his composure. Speaking in a quieter voice, he continued, “And just so you understand once and for all, little one, there has been no mistake. I paid a very high price for you, my blond beauty, and the sooner you reconcile yourself to your fate, the better off you’ll be.”
    He lifted a small bell from the table and rang it. The doors to the bedroom opened at once and the two men came striding in. They stopped a respectful distance away, their thickly muscled arms crossed over their chests.
    “Take her away,” Khalil said imperiously. “It is clear the girl requires further punishment. Beat her, muzzle her and take her to the kennels.”

Leah was again dragged to the room with the whipping post. As before, the two men forced her to stand against the post and wrap her arms around it so they could chain her in place.
    Again she felt the stinging bite of knotted leather against skin still tender from the first beating. They whipped her back and ass until she was sagging against the post, the weight of her body supported solely by the chains around her wrists.
    When they let her go she slumped to the ground. She was covered in sweat, which stung along her back and sides. Her face was streaked with tears and snot. The only sound in the room was her whimpering cries—both men remained silent and stoic-faced, seemingly indifferent to her suffering.
    One of them used a bandana to wipe her face, none too gently. The other produced a sort of leather harness with straps attached. The two men knelt on either side of Leah, one pinning her arms behind her back while the other strapped the contraption over her mouth and jaw. This, she realized with horror, was the muzzle that bastard Khalil had referred to. The leather that covered the lower half of her face was soft, but completely confining. Once the thug was done buckling the muzzle behind her head, Leah could still breathe through her nose, but her jaw was locked shut.
    The men stood and the stockier of the two flipped Leah over his shoulder, carrying her as the Russian had done. They passed along the hallway and down the stairs. Leah heard voices as they made their way to the front door. Though she couldn’t see much from her uncomfortable vantage point, she was vaguely aware of people sitting and standing in the large room. Shock and fear, along with physical pain from the whipping, prevented her from taking in much of the scene.
    They passed through other rooms and arrived at a door that opened to the outside. Leah could hear the sound of barking dogs in the near distance as they moved through some kind of courtyard in the warm morning air. When they passed through the gate of a chain link fence the barking grew louder, mingling with excited yelps and whining.
    All at once, a pack of dogs surrounded them, bared, pointed teeth and snarling lips in Leah’s line of vision. Her heart felt like it was going to explode out of her chest. Were these monsters going to leave her here to be torn to shreds by a pack of rabid dogs? She realized she was screaming with terror, but her cries were muted by the muzzle.
    The man set her down on her bottom in the dirt, and the dogs closed in around her, sniffing and growling. “Wait! Help! Don’t leave me here!” Leah tried to cry, but her jaws were clamped shut by the leather.
    The gate clanked shut behind the men and Leah was left alone, naked and defenseless amidst a pack of vicious dogs. Curling in on herself, she hid her head in her arms, her