Taken (Reserved for Braschi)

[wintersfanatic]

WARNING:
This thread will feature heavy non-consensual sex and physical/mental abuse.
Do not post here unless you have been approved

~ ~ ~​

Perhaps the fastest growing criminal industry in the world, human trafficking is a lucrative and dangerous business and comes second only to the drug trade. The industry is reported to be worth billions of dollars, and affects men as well as women. Victims of trafficking are held against their will and often forced to perform a variety of services for their traffickers, otherwise they risk their death or the death of someone they know.

The sex trade is perhaps the worst form of human trafficking, where hundreds of thousands of women from all over the world are often lured into an area with the promise of work and are then forced them to become prostitutes or sold as sex slaves at private auctions to rich clients.

While most girls are taken from some of the most abject, gut-wrenching, hopeless countries in the world, victims can be exploited from any region... from any country... from any town...

At any time

~ ~ ~​

.

Paris - France​

It was on a warm afternoon that Emily and her classmate Michelle raced across the street and over to their hotel, each girl carrying more than a couple of shopping bags full of designer clothes and accessories. After all, why not? They were in Paris! The young high school seniors couldn't help but giggle as the euphoria hadn't quite subsided yet, and if the constant looks they received from some of the guys was any indication, their experience in Paris would be all that and more.

At least... that was all good and well as long as the chaperones kept to themselves. Most of the teachers had been assigned to stay closer to the younger students, leaving the seniors, like Emily and Michelle, to behave on their own.

"I can't wait to get laid," Michelle had said before they'd even left the States, and Emily wondered if she'd get her chance as well.

Both girls certainly had bodies that guys went wild for.

Emily was a bit more conservatively dressed, but unless she dressed like an Eskimo it'd be impossible to hide her curves. Her breasts were certainly more than a handful, and set against her toned body they seemed perhaps a touch larger than normal, but far from obscene. She worked hard to keep a flat tummy, and her ass was nice and tight, causing her jeans to appear more like a second skin than a simple covering. The pink tank top she wore was very form fitting, and scooped low enough to show off her impressive cleavage.

Tasteful but alluring.

Michelle, however, was all about curves, and she liked showing them off. Most of her clothes were meant to draw attention to her assets, but despite her provocative nature she wasn't a total slut.

She was... free.

If throwing a wink or two could net them some extra goodies, then what was the harm is doing so? It worked on the cute concierge at their hotel, after all. Michelle probably wouldn't end up sleeping with him, but she wouldn't exactly turn him away either if the night proved uneventful.

The afternoon continued to drag on as the girls readied themselves for a night on the town, showering and fixing their hair while occasionally indulging themselves in a bottle of red wine. Michelle would poke her head out of the bathroom every so often and dance around with her friend, with both girls clad only in their underwear. Emily grinned as Michelle turned around and wiggled her butt a little, and the tiny bit of cloth that made up her panties had become wedged between her cheeks, making her ass stick out even more.

There was no need for them to rush getting dressed. They had more than a couple of hours to kill before they'd even think of heading out.

While Michelle retreated into the bathroom again, Emily began rummaging through her bags for her cellphone. She was supposed to call her parents earlier that day, but she'd gotten caught up in the rush of breakfast and shopping. With her back to the door, Emily leaned over her bed to grab at a few bags, trying to figure out which one she'd shoved her phone into.

 

[Braschi]

The back of the van was hot as it bounced around the back alleys heading towards the touristic 6th Arrondissment. It was black with no windows and had been parked in the sun most of the day. Others might have minded, but Tarik actually found it comfortable, after growing up in the deserts of middle Tunesia. He sat on a hard wooden box, steadying himself with one hand on open frame. The interior looked for all practical purposes a construction van; dirty, filled with tools, boxes and tarps. No place comfortable to sit.

Tarik looked across to the other man sitting stoically on a different box. The two men couldn't be more different. While Tarik always managed to have a cheerful gin on his face, the other man looked sterner than an Arnold Swarzennegger terminator. Most people called him Hans, but Tarik had a sneaking suspicion that was because no one was really brave enough to ask his real name.

Although a drive through Paris past the Eiffel Tower might have been quite a lot of fun for most people, the mood in the back of the van was decidedly uncomfortable. Especially sharing the cramped space with a man who's idea of conversation was to glare at you for wasting energy by making sounds. Normally Tarik would crack a few jokes, a cover for nervousness. This was his first time - and while he'd actually killed men before - this was different. He was in a foreign country, illegally, doing something even more illegal. He wasn't afraid of being arrested; he was afraid that Mr Santz would think he might have said something to the cops. Much as Tarik generally disliked the impassive German, he was also a bit glad The Machine was along for the ride.

The van came to a halt and the driver killed the engine. What little air circulation there was before also came to a stop, but no one in the van seemed to notice. Tarik looked through the windshield into a typical up-scale Parisian street. Lots of tourists, shops, hotels; virtually indistinguishable from any of the other streets in the area.

The woman who had been sitting silently in the passenger seat opened a manila envelope and pulled out some papers and two glossy pictures. Tarik had seen the pictures before; he'd memorized the targets so he wouldn't take the wrong ones. The van settled into silence; just the occasional creak of metal under the battering rays of the sun. Desert-man though he was, Tarik found himself to be sweating. His foot fidgeted as he felt too awkward to say something, or crack a joke.

The woman was clearly in charge; he was just along for muscle. Despite having grown up in a society where women were seen as babymakers at best, there was just something about the woman that frankly scared Tarik. She was feminine, blonde, quite beautiful in fact. But one look from her gun-metal eyes and he was sitting quietly in the back of the van like a good little boy.

"There," the woman said, pointing to two girls with shopping bags crossing the street. It was important to get a look at them in the real world, because pictures can sometimes lead to confusion. The mood in the van shifted from boredom to anticipation. The thrill of the hunt squirmed up Tarik's spine and he watched the girls and forgot the sweat on his brow. He glanced at Hans, but the German's face remained impassive - as if sweating was a sign of inefficiency.

Four pairs of eyes tracked the girls' progress until they'd disappeared into the hotel. After a couple of tense minutes, the woman turned to the two men in the back of the van. "Reservation under the name of Grubber. You'll get a spare key." Before Tarik could acknowledge, she'd turned around to face the front again.

Pushing to door open to the lobby, Tarik cranked on a brave face, feeling a little out of place in the upscale hotel. He'd dressed "sporty" as was his custom, with loose fitting clothes, and rather stood out among the more smartly dressed people around him. Hans had picked a simple shit, slacks and loafers that allowed him to blend in pretty much everywhere in Europe. However, Tarik was inexperienced, not stupid. He wouldn't make the same mistake next time, no matter what his ego said.

After giving the key to Hans, the receptionist waved over the concierge and said somewhat pointedly,"could you show Herr Grubber to his room, please?" Tarik wondered if the concierge was in the employ of the woman in the van or Mr. Santz. He'd quickly learned that there was always someone in the employ of someone, and sometimes several someones.

In the elevator, the concierge spoke quietly and quickly, "The room is at the end of the hall to the left. There are stairs just on the other side. Housekeeping is on the floors above. They are with a group that is staying in the same floor. Is the van parked at the service entrance?"

Tarik felt relieved someone was finally talking. But Hans' only reply was, "Jah." Before the Berber could think of something to say, the elevator doors opened to an empty hallway. The concierge turned a key in the elevator, locking it at the floor they were on. "Four minutes," he said. Evidently the concierge had more in common with Hans than with Tarik.

The three men stalked down the hall, almost noiseless footsteps on the plush carpet. Tarik instinctively looked around for security cameras, but saw none. At the end of the hall, Hans stopped in front of a room, while the concierge took a couple steps further and wheeled out a maid's cart. He quickly placed it behind the two men, blocking off the hallway and stalked off towards the stairs. Hans waited for the stairwell door to close behind the concierge before slipping the key in the slot, and pushing open the door.

 

[wintersfanatic]

Having gone through several different combinations for outfits to wear that night, Michelle eventually emerged from the bathroom while still in her underwear, the black padded bra she had on supporting and amply displaying her large, full breasts by pushing them together and forcing them to lift up against her young chest. She had a toothbrush in her mouth, pushed off to one corner, letting her use both hands to pick up and start tapping away at her phone.

Emily, it seemed, had finally found hers as well.

"Bathroom's free," Michelle said after removing her toothbrush from her mouth and angling the phone towards her body so that she could snap a quick selfie.

After briefly viewing the image, Michelle held up her phone again and snapped another, only this time she adjusted the angle so that more of her generous chest could be in the shot. She took a few more pictures, each one at a slightly different angle and with varying expressions, and Michelle snapped several more while she began laying out different shirts on her bed.

Emily, while certainly no stranger to the allure of taking selfies and sending off snapchats, had instead opted to be "responsible" by trying to get a hold of her family back home. She knew that they were several hours behind her time-wise, but after a few rings the phone was answered on the other end. While her mom was a bit more understanding about not calling right away, Emily's dad was a bit more annoyed, and she rolled her eyes as she had to promise, once again, to keep in touch.

"There's a restaurant we're going to tonight, and then I think that there's a museum visit later tomorrow," Emily said as she turned and checked out her back in the mirror, noting how the panties she had on also seemed to become wedged up inside the crack of her fleshy young ass. She liked the way it looked, but nonetheless reached behind her to refit the underwear.

"No, I haven't maxed out the credit cards," Emily huffed when she heard her dad ask about her purchases in the background. "Tell him I only bought a few things."

Or seven.

Emily turned once more in the mirror, and, satisfied with how she looked, turned back around while still keeping her phone pressed to her ear. She found it a little bit curious that her classmate hadn't come prancing into the bathroom to interrupt her call, and when she heard the briefest of screams she raced to the bathroom door, and her phone fell from her hands and broke after crashing to the floor.

 

[Braschi]

Tarik was fast on Hans' heels as he pushed into the room. It looked... well, like any hotel room. They all manage to look the same once you've stayed in enough of them. But Tarik immediately lost attention to his surroundings and couldn't do anything but focus on the young girl bending over a suitcase on the bed, wearing just a small ... he didn't know what, but damn it was sexy. He couldn't keep his eyes off her perky ass - he'd been in Europe long enough to know the customs, but not get used to the sight of so much female flesh on display. Despite the urgency of the moment, he was immediately aware of a stirring in his loins.

Then Hans grabbed her from behind, lifting her off her feet and cutting off the briefest of screams with one of his large hands. Hans was at least four of five inches above 6', and swung her around like a rag-doll. There was a moment where Tarik couldn't drag his eyes off the girl's full breasts under their meager cover, bouncing in the air with Hans' movement. Then he remembered; the tranquilizer!

Tarik quickly rummaged in his pockets and stopped when he heard the bathroom door open, just an couple of feet from his side. He felt a bit like in a dream; things were happening, but he was watching them happen, not... doing them. He other girl he was supposed to be capturing was just standing there. And then the cellphone crashed against the floor, and Tarik finally woke up.

"Fuck," was his first thought, then he lunged at the girl, pushing her back into the bathroom, trying to get a hold of her to pin her to the ground. Hans would just have to deal with the other girl on his own. Then he remembered they were supposed to keep this quiet.

 

[wintersfanatic]

"Shut up and dance with me," Michelle quietly hummed as she leaned over her bed, rummaging around through her belongings for something else to wear. The dark-haired teen hadn't heard the door to her room open, and although someone had brought a strong arm to grab her waist and lift her up, the tiny scream that Michelle let out was one more of surprise than alarm. It wasn't until after the man's other rough hand clamped down over her mouth and he swung her around did she realize that it wasn't some stupid prank one of her classmates had decided to pull. She couldn't see the man that had grabbed her, but her frightened eyes soon locked onto another man that had come into the room, and through watery eyes she saw him focusing on her chest, which, given how desperately she was squirming, was bouncing and jiggling around inside her pitiful excuse for a bra.

"MMMMM-HRRRRM!" Michelle cried into the large hand covering her mouth, but no matter how much she raised her voice, it would only come out as a muffled whine.

When Emily eventually opened the bathroom door and saw her friend being hauled around like a doll by a brute of a figure, she froze in shock.

There was no way that what was happening was happening.

Time seemed to have slowed down... and then sped up in a damn hurry to try and catch up.

Unable to move quickly enough to either try and help her friend, or rush back for safety, Emily found herself being pushed back hard into the bathroom, and she screamed in protest as the man that had went to grab her seemed intent on pinning her down. While she was considered by many to be physically fit, Emily was still just a young girl, and there wasn't a lot of room in the bathroom for her to move around in. With her heart racing inside her chest, the curvaceous teenager did everything she could to avoid being pinned down.

She was also so incredibly scared, however, that her body was reacting faster than she could make up her mind about what to do or what to grab.

 

[Braschi]

With his companion otherwise occupied, Hans changed tactics. He had plenty of experience abducting girls all alone in their rooms, so wasn't the least flustered by any of their antics. He turned the buxom girl in his arm around in midair, and effortlessly slammed her face-down on the bed, completely ignoring the luggage sprawled over the coverlet and how the different hard objects might hurt the girl. He was only interested in keeping her face bruise-free, so as not to damage her market value.

In the same move, he'd planted one knee in her back while holding her face firmly against the muffling bed covers with his left hand. It took him less than a couple of seconds to pull out the needle case, pop off the cover and inject the tranquilizer in the back of her neck. It would take a moment to take full effect, so he kept her pressed against the bed to not make a noise or get away. Though he was starting to figure at this point, with the ruckus in the bathroom, quiet was an option firmly out of the window.

Tarik, on the other hand, was making a full display of his rookie status. With one hand still in his pocket, his first lunge towards the girl missed. The bathroom was small, there wasn't much room to squirm away in, which was a lucky break for him. Sure, he was taller and stronger than the girl, but the blood from his brain was rushing into his pants, and he was starting to think more primitively than strategically.

He forgot all about the needle, and instead just grabbed her, more like a runaway sack of potatoes. He managed to get an arm around her, pulling her against him before practically body-slamming her against the sink shelf. The mahogany hit her just above the hips, and she was forced forward by his weight at her backside. Surprise had turned to anger and his face twisted into a scowl. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, giving it a hard tug while his other hand slipped up to squeeze her left breast.

He growled in to her ear with a heavy accent, while her face was just a couple of inches from the mirror, "Estay estill, cunt." He'd fallen back to his extensive experience in the fighting in North Africa, where men like he took advantage of what was available in the moment. He was rock-hard from the commotion and thrill of the chase, as well as her impressive curves. He was pressing his crotch against her almost naked buttocks, and had forgotten about keeping her quiet...

 

[wintersfanatic]

"MMM! MMM-HRMMM! MMM!"

Michelle was squealing like a pig into Han's hand as it covered her face, and then, in a rather dizzying move, she was twirled around and then slammed down hard against her bed, causing several smaller bags to scatter and fall onto the floor. The eighteen-year-old whined further as the man painfully brought his knee down against her back, keeping her pinned in place against the bed.

Unable to properly fight off her attacker, Michelle felt a sharp prick to the back of her neck, and the panicked state she was in worked hard against her by speeding up the numbing effects of the drugs. It didn't take long for her arms to fall limp at her sides, and not long after she ceased all of her struggling.

Back in the bathroom, Emily recovered from the initial push to scramble up onto her knees, but soon she felt a strong arm wrap around her stomach, lifting her up and pulling her back against her attacker's body. The young teen let out a cry for help, and then grunted in pain as she was slammed hard against the mahogany shelf for the sink.

Emily let out a pitiful whine of protest as the man reached up and grabbed her hair, using it to jerk her head back while reaching up at the same time with his other hand to grab harshly at her breast. Emily could feel his crotch against her fleshy round ass, and, even if she hadn't had sex before, knew exactly what it was that was grinding against her cheeks.

While she'd been told to remain still, Emily couldn't help but shake and squirm like a frightened animal. Too weak to fight back, the dark-haired teen began whimpering out pleas for mercy. Her eyes were plenty wet with tears, and, although she was rather close to the mirror, she couldn't make out the finer points of her attacker's face. He seemed young, but that was all she could tell.

= = =

Down the hall on the same floor, several of Emily and Michelle's classmates were having a small party of their own. Although they'd sent a few messages inviting the girls over, they hadn't received any sort of replies, and a couple of the male upperclassmen decided to go get the girls themselves. With their drinks in hand, the young men walked down the hall and around the corridor to find the door to their room already open, and then rushed inside when they'd heard Emily's cry for help.

 

[Braschi]

Finally the girl Hans was holding down stopped struggling and he was able hurry over to the bathroom. Things were not going to plan. He hated things not going to plan, because that meant things were being done inefficiently.

Tarik, on the other hand, was thoroughly enjoying rubbing his cock against the young woman's ass. His fingers dug into her breast as he was already picturing how much more he'd enjoy forcing her further over the sink, pushing her panties aside and fucking her quick and hard. Whether he would have gone through with it or not became inconsequential when suddenly Hans' backup needle was jabbed in her side.

The Arab's mind came back to the situation fully, and his hand slipped from her breast. She was already starting to sag from the effects of the drug. But before Tarik or Hans could say anything, there was a commotion at the door, and two young men appeared in the room just outside the bathroom door.

The girl wasn't completely sedated yet, so Tarik couldn't let her go. However, Hans slipped instantly into muscle memory and before anyone could get their bearings, the tall burly German bull-rushed the young men. They were young and athletic, but they weren't fighters; both hit the ground hard.

"Loss!" shouted Hans as he stood over the young men. Tarik didn't speak German, but he didn't need to be told to go. He hoisted the semi-conscious teen over his left shoulder, pushed passed Hans into the hallway, and came face-to-face with a surprised American. He was just as young as the others - really, Tarik wasn't more than a couple years older than the seniors -, and opened his mouth to say something. But the Tunisian instinctively punched him in the nose and knocked him back in the hallway. He was in full flight and fight mode; nothing short of a rifle would stop him. He kicked open the door to the stairwell, and jumped down the stairs two at a time.

Back in the room, Hans stood over the young men. I wasn't going to take any chances. One had fallen to the floor, while the other hand been pushed back against the opposite wall, somewhat off his feet. He looked like the stronger of the two, maybe he played football. Hans feinted a punch to the young man's face with his left fist, and when his opponent flinched, drove his right fist into his stomach. As he was doubling over, the man on the floor was on all fours, trying to get to his feet. Hans kicked him square in the face, knocking his head back.

The one who looked the most like a footballer was bending forward trying to catch his breath, so Hans hit him in the base of the skull with his forearm, sending him sprawling and stunned. The less athletic of the two had fallen back to the ground from the kick to the face, and was lying on his side. Hans drove his heel into the young man's exposed knee, effectively keeping him from running after anyone.

With the situation more under control, Hans turned to the completely lifeless girl on the bed and tossed her over his shoulder like a particularly sexy sack of flour. He rushed into the hall to find another young man leaning against the wall, with his hand over a bloody nose. There were two more men in the hall, but they were hastily retreating from whence they came. Most likely to get help and raise the alarm. Not good. Not good at all. Hans vented some of his frustration by kicking at the bloodied young man's knee, knocking him down and ensuring he wouldn't pursue. Then the German turned to run down the stairs.

 

[Braschi]

Tarik was panting by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, turned and stepped out the service entrance. It was at the end of a short, narrow alley, which was deserted save for some recycling bins and the black Peugeot Boxer. The backdoors were already open, so he jumped in, the kidnapped teen swinging from his shoulder as he held her with his powerful arms.

He found the woman who'd been sitting in the front seat now waiting on a crate. The workman's area at the back of the van, with the jumbles of tins, boxes and tools just made her and her precision elegant dress stand out even more.

"On the box," she said when Tarik hesitated. He'd noticed she had just a very slight accent, but he couldn't place where. He did as told, dumping the girl over a large wooden toolbox, which he already knew was designed to fit the girls in case the van was stopped by police, and the interior would look like nothing more than a couple of workmen heading to the job.

The girl sprawled indecorously on her back over the dirty box; one arm dragged to the floor and her head hung over the edge away from Tarik as he pushed one of her legs aside to sit on the ledge and wipe a bit of perspiration from his brow. The hotel had been air conditioned, but now he was back in the hot van.

"Having fun, I see," the woman said, and Tarik looked over in surprised to see her staring pointedly at his crotch. His still fully erect cock had caught in a fold of his trousers and was giving quite a display of its tent-building capabilities. The man shifted, trying to hide it, and feeling a bit of embarrassment build up in him; thinking with that thing had gotten him in a bit of trouble once again, though the woman didn't know it yet. "It's OK," she continued, and he noticed a smirk in the corner of her mouth. "As long as you don't spill anything on the merchandise."

Tarik was saved from having to think of anything to say with Hans bursting out of the door and climbing up into the van, dumping the second product unceremoniously on the floor. If he thought anything of what happened in the room upstairs, his face didn't show it. He pulled the double doors shut, and banged twice on the metal. Immediately the van started forward. Despite the shaking of the van, Hans immediately got to work on packing the product for transport.

Seeing as Tarik didn't know what would happen next, the woman motioned for the Arab to sit on an overturned empty paint barrel near the head of the girl he'd brought. When he was sitting, the van shifted a bit as it went around a corner, and Tarik grabbed on to her shoulders so she wouldn't slide off. With her virtually naked form spread out before him, he could hardly take his eyes off the swell of her breasts swaying in the movement of the van, tracing over her stomach to the top of her bikini.

The woman passed next to him, and he noticed that Hans was busy wrapping a long rope around the girl on the floor's legs, binding them together in surprisingly even loops. Then Tarik looked back at his own prize. The woman pushed one of the girl's legs off the box it dangled along the floor like her arm. The teen's head continued to sway side to side completely unnoticed. Then the woman sat on the ledge of the box where Tarik had, but between the girl's legs.

"Let's see what we've got," she mused before turning to Tarik and admonishing him to keep the product still. The Arab's erection had gone nowhere, and he unthinkingly adjusted it a bit so it wouldn't keep poking to a fold of his trousers. He definitely had to dress better next time. The woman suddenly reached up and pushed up the teen's bra, and exposing her breasts. Tarik couldn't help but look, if just for a second, then back up at the woman. She winked at him, before turning her attention to the captured girl's groin.

Tarik didn't get a good view of what she was doing, but was more interested in watching the young girl's breasts swaying in the motion of the van. If covered in a revealing bra they'd been arousing, completely exposed and vulnerable they were doubly so. Tarik swallowed noisily; he'd have to take some personal time after this trip was over, he was sure.

On the other side of the van, Hans completed tying up his product, legs together, arms bound behind and around her waist. Effective to keep her still when the drugs started to wear off, and also easy to carry her around. He then picked her up around the knees, sending her massive breasts bouncing high on her chest, and then laid her back on the bottom of the box, while letting her buttocks rest on the side. Then he swung her legs over her, so she was curled with her head at the bottom of the box, and her ass was fully exposed near the top of it, sort of in a upside-down semi-fetal position. This put the bit of cloth that covered her holes on prominent display.

The German, however, seemed uninterested, and instead sat on the edge of the box and removed his cellphone. Tarik turned back to look at the woman poking between the other girl's legs, and even though Hans spoke in a completely emotionless tone and in German, Tarik knew exactly what he was saying. He lost all embarrassment for his apparently appropriate boner and started to feel embarrassed about his performance in the room, and fearful for what would be waiting when they arrived at their destination.

The van drove unnoticed across the Seine into the 7th Arrondissment...

 

[wintersfanatic]

"NO!"

Emily's eyes were wet with tears as the man assaulting her forced his fingers to dig into her fat breast, and she could feel him grinding his crotch against her young ass. She was only able to squirm and fight back so much, but then it all went sideways when she felt an incredibly sharp prick to her side, and out of the corner of her eye she saw another large man standing beside her by the sink, his hands pulling away the sharp needle he'd stabbed her with.

"I c-"

"N-"

Emily found herself unable to properly articulate her protests, and her vision became a bit blurry as she seemed to lose all focus. Whatever she'd been injected with was starting to take over, and the dark-haired teen found herself unable to move around.

She was just so... tired all of a sudden.

She was still awake, so far as she could tell, but after a while she was unable to piece together what was going on. Her arms hung loosely at her sides, dangling towards the ground, as she was lifted up and carried up out of the bathroom, and by the time the man carrying her reached the bottom of the stairwell she had completely passed out.

Forced onto her back and on a large wooden box, Emily's curvaceous young form had to be held steady to prevent her from slipping off as the van moved away from the hotel and towards the 7th Arrondissment. Her head lolled from one side to the other, and, after the woman in charge had pushed up her bra, Emily's fat tits wobbled around against her chest without anything to contain them. They were quite large for a girl her age, and, set against her slender frame, seemed perhaps a touch larger than normal.

The real prize, however, lay between her legs. Whereas Michelle had already been opened, Emily remained deflowered. Although her hymen showed some signs of natural wear and tear, it remained intact.