Bought and Broken

The sun hung low over the dusty lot, its heat pressing down like a heavy hand. The air smelled of sweat, diesel, and the sharp tang of fear—thick enough to taste. Val’s bare feet pressed into the cracked asphalt as she knelt, her wrists bound behind her back with rough rope, the fibers biting into her skin. Britt was beside her, same position, same restraints, her breath coming in shallow gasps. They’d been here before. Too many times. But this—this was different.

A month. A fucking month since he’d last visited. Since he’d last *used* them. And now he was back, his boots kicking up dust as he circled them like a vulture. His belt jingled with every step, the sound too loud in the oppressive silence. Val could feel his gaze on her, heavy, possessive. Like she was already naked. Already his.

“Look at you two,” he drawled, his voice gravelly, amused. “Still alive. Still *useful*.” He crouched in front of them, his fingers tracing the curve of Val’s jaw, his touch making her skin crawl. “Mexicans paid good money for you. Fifty times a day, huh? Must’ve been a busy month.” Britt let out a sharp, bitter laugh, her head rolling to the side. “Busy? Fuck, that’s an understatement. Try *exhausting*.” Val shot her a warning look. *Don’t provoke him.* But Britt had never been good at following orders.

Her father’s hand lashed out, backhanding Britt hard enough to snap her head back. “Watch your mouth, slut. You’re not in charge here.” Britt’s lip split, blood trickling down her chin, but she just grinned, her eyes dark with defiance. “Wouldn’t dream of it, *Daddy*.”

Val’s stomach twisted. She knew that tone. Knew the way Britt’s voice dripped with venom. Knew the way her father’s face would twist with sick pleasure at the challenge. He loved breaking them. Loved the fight. Loved the *submission*.

He stood, unbuckling his belt with deliberate slowness, the leather hissing as it slid through the loops. “You know what I missed most while you were gone?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Watching you two *work*.” He pulled his dick out, already half-hard, and strode toward Britt, gripping her by the hair. “On your knees, bitch.” Britt spat at his feet but obeyed, her body moving on autopilot. Val watched, her pulse pounding in her ears, as her father forced Britt’s mouth onto his cock, her lips stretching around his girth.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his hips rocking forward. “Take it like the whore you are.” His free hand snaked down, fingers shoving between Britt’s legs, working her roughly. Britt’s body betrayed her, her hips rolling into his touch despite the hate in her eyes. Val could see the wetness glistening on his fingers when he pulled them free, could hear the slick sound as he rubbed them over Britt’s lips. “Fuck, you’re soaked. Always so *eager*.”

Val’s breath hitched. She knew what was coming. She *always* knew.

Her father yanked Britt up by her hair, his dick glistening with her spit. “Val.” His voice was a command. She didn’t hesitate. Couldn’t. She crawled forward, her bound hands making it awkward, her knees scraping against the asphalt. He positioned her in front of Britt, his grip brutal on the back of her neck. “Eat her out. And make it *good*.”

Val’s face burned. Not with shame—she’d long since lost the capacity for that—but with the familiar, twisting mix of hatred and something darker. Something she refused to name. She pressed her mouth to Britt’s pussy, her tongue flicking out, tasting the salt and musk of her arousal. Britt let out a broken moan, her legs trembling. “Fuck you,” she gasped, but her hips rolled forward, grinding against Val’s face. “Fuck *both* of you.”

Her father laughed, the sound low and dirty. “That’s the spirit.” He didn’t give Val time to adjust. His cock pressed against her ass, the head slick with lube she hadn’t even seen him apply. She tensed, but he didn’t stop. Just pushed forward, his thickness stretching her, filling her. “Relax,” he growled, his voice rough. “You know you love this.”

Val didn’t love it. She *hated* it. Hated the way her body responded, the way her pussy pulsed with unwanted arousal, the way her nipples hardened despite the degradation. But she didn’t fight. Couldn’t. Not when the alternative was worse. So she stayed still, her tongue working Britt’s clit as her father fucked her ass, his balls slapping against her with every thrust.

“That’s it,” he grunted, his fingers tangling in Val’s hair, yanking her head back. “Fuck, look at you. My little sluts, taking it so *well*.” His phone was in his other hand, the flash going off like a strobe as he captured every second. The angle was brutal, the lens zoomed in on Val’s face buried between Britt’s legs, her father’s dick disappearing into her ass. “Smile, Val,” he ordered, his voice thick with lust. She didn’t. Couldn’t. But that just made him laugh. “Stubborn bitch. Always were.”

Britt’s breath was coming in ragged gasps, her body trembling. “Fuck, *fuck*—” Her fingers twisted in Val’s hair, pulling her closer, grinding her pussy against Val’s mouth. Val could feel the way Britt’s thighs clenched, the way her body coiled tight. She was close. So close. And Val knew—her father would make her come. Would *force* her to. Because that’s what he lived for. The control. The humiliation. The *power*.

“Come for me,” he ordered Britt, his voice a whip-crack. “Come on her *face* like the dirty slut you are.” Britt’s back arched, her body shuddering as the orgasm ripped through her. Val didn’t stop, her tongue working furiously, lapping up every drop of Britt’s release as her father pounded into her ass, his rhythm relentless. “That’s it,” he groaned. “Fuck, that’s *hot*.”

Val could feel her own body responding, her pussy dripping, her clit throbbing with every thrust of her father’s cock. She hated it. Hated that she was wet. Hated that she was *close*. But she couldn’t stop it. Not when he reached around, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing in rough, demanding circles. “You too, Val,” he growled. “Come for Daddy. Show me how much you *love* this.”

She tried to hold back. Tried to *fight*. But it was useless. The pleasure was too much, the pressure building until it was unbearable. With a broken cry, she came, her body shaking, her pussy clenching around nothing as her father fucked her ass with brutal precision. “That’s my girl,” he groaned, his own orgasm hitting him hard. He buried himself deep, his cock pulsing as he filled her ass with his cum, the heat of it seeping inside her.

For a long moment, the only sounds were their ragged breaths, the distant hum of a passing car, the faint rustle of the wind through the dry grass. Then her father pulled out, his dick glistening with cum and lube, and Val collapsed onto the asphalt, her body trembling, her face still pressed against Britt’s thigh. Britt was a mess beside her, her legs weak, her breath coming in gasps.

Her father zipped himself up, his phone still in hand, his grin wide. “Good girls,” he murmured, scrolling through the photos, his fingers lingering on the most degrading ones. “Daddy’s so *proud*.”

Val wanted to scream. To *fight*. To tell him to go to hell. But she didn’t. Because she knew—this wasn’t the end. It was just another day. Another ten bucks. Another round of hell.

And the worst part?

She’d do it all again tomorrow.

But her father wasn’t done. Not yet. He crouched beside them, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. “You remember what I let them do to you last time? The *horse*?” Val’s stomach lurched. She remembered. Every second. The way the animal had reeked of sweat and hay. The way its cock had been *massive*, stretching her beyond belief. The way the men had cheered, their voices a distant roar as she’d screamed, her body torn apart. The way her father had watched, his camera flashing, his dick hard in his pants.

“They paid extra for that,” he continued, his fingers trailing through the cum dripping out of Val’s ass. “Ten bucks a day for the horse. Good money.” Britt let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “You’re *sick*.”

He backhanded her again, harder this time. “And you’re *mine*.” He stood, pulling a wad of cash from his pocket, the bills crisp, the amount obscene. “Here.” He tossed it onto the ground between them. “For your *troubles*.”

Val stared at the money, her chest tight. Ten bucks. That’s what they were worth to him. Less than a fucking fast-food meal. Less than *nothing*.

Her father’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with sick satisfaction. “Pick it up.” Val hesitated. But she knew better. She always did. She leaned forward, her lips brushing the bills as she picked them up, the paper tasting like dirt and shame. Britt followed suit, her movements sluggish, her eyes burning with quiet fury.

“Good girls,” he repeated, his voice dripping with false pride. “Now get the fuck up. We’re not done yet.”

Val’s heart sank. Because she knew—he never was. Not when it came to them.

He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, unfolding it with deliberate slowness. Val’s eyes flicked to it, her stomach twisting as she recognized the familiar layout. A *menu*. A list of services. Of *prices*.

“New clients,” he said, his voice casual, like he was discussing the weather. “Rich bastards. Paying *top* dollar.” He tapped the paper, his finger lingering on a line near the bottom. “They’ve got… *specific* tastes.”

Val’s blood ran cold. She knew what that meant. Knew the kind of *specific* he was talking about.

Britt’s voice was raw. “What now?”

Her father’s grin was a knife twist. “Now? Now you’re gonna *earn* your keep.” He reached down, gripping Val’s chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “And this time? You’re gonna *beg* for it.”

Val’s pulse pounded in her ears. Because she knew—he wasn’t lying. He’d break them. Again. And again. Until there was nothing left.

But as she looked into his eyes, she saw something else. Something she hadn’t noticed before. A flicker of *uncertainty*. A crack in the armor.

And for the first time in a long time, Val felt the faintest spark of hope.

Maybe—just maybe—there was a way out.

But for now, she just nodded, her voice steady, her defiance buried deep. “Yes, Daddy.”

Because survival was the only game left to play.

And she intended to win.