A/N. Dearest Readers: I hope that this finds you all finishing a wonderful holiday season - and getting back into life that is now starting to be busy. And I, as the generous writer that I am - have something that so many people have been looking forward to for a while now. I have to offer you four new chapters. And where do those chapters take our characters? Well - you will have to read and find out - but i think that many of you are going to be very very proud of where this is going.

But there will be some - let's say - hard chapters ahead. This is why I have saved them for you and am going to post a whole bunch so that you know, starting with this chapter - that hope is in sight.

That being said - this chapter is very tough to read. It includes some very violent things - and I just want to put a trigger warning out there for anything about violence in sex - that is included here. I have decided not to post two different stories - my readers can read it and like it, or not read it. I hope, for my sake, that you read it! :) Thanks so much for reading - leave reviews! I know I'm about ready to get blasted - but bring it ON!

Lorelai laid her head back against the seat of the limo, the water she had just drank coating her screaming throat as she waited for the next customer. It had gotten past the point where cough drops helped anymore, and she had saved some money to go to the doctor. But then Rory had shoplifted something, and Lorelai had to pay the store almost a hundred dollars to keep them from pressing charges. So there went her extra money.

Tonight she wished she had the full half hour break in between customers. After the first few weeks, she and Oscar had decided that she could get more people, which meant more money, if she only took 15 minute breaks instead of a half-hour. That had given her the option of having more people on certain days and getting to leave early on some other days.

But tonight, well, lately, every night, she felt like her body was almost unable to keep up with the taxing this was taking on her. Out of the last year she had been doing this, the last month had been torturous. She placed the blame for that on the cough that she couldn't get rid of. And the blood she now expelled every time she coughed. That couldn't be doing well for her energy level.

Before she was ready, she heard the door to the limo open up, and she barely glanced over to see a man get into the car. Setting her water bottle down in the cup holder on the side of the seat, she turned to him and, in a voice she had long ago perfected her sexy and forward way, she started to say, "Well now, sir, what can I do…"

But this guy didn't waste time. She hadn't even gotten a good look at him before he had pushed her shoulders down onto the seat, his hands above her shoulders as she felt his knee push her legs apart.

With him now above her, she could see his greasy hair flopping down over his face, hiding his eyes from her. But he leaned down, and she could feel his mustache against her neck as he ran his lips over her skin. And he whispered, "You can lay there and let me fuck you."

What a great pickup line. If only he knew how many men used that one on her. He seemed to think he was so mysterious, so alluring with his control tactics. Nothing she hadn't seen before. Some men liked to move slow, taking their time undressing her, but others, not so much.

As he ripped the zipper of her dress down with one hand, she could feel him unzipping his pants with the other. He then used both hands to pull his pants down as little as possible, only exposing what he needed to. He then reached under her panties and pulled the thong to the side, and Lorelai struggled to sit up, but his hands grabbed her shoulders and held her down.

He moved his hair off of his face with one of his hands, and she saw piercing green eyes – no sign of cloudiness or any kind of stupor around them. Only a deep lust – which, of course, wasn't new. But he was so quick. And Lorelai had to tell him…

"I said lay down and take it, you slut." His voice was quiet and controlling.

But she had to tell him. "Could you…"

And his hands flew from where they were holding her shoulders down to the base of her neck, and she felt his thumbs pressing down on her windpipe. She shook her head violently, and grabbed his hands with hers, pulling with all her might to get them off of her throat.

But the power struggle was exciting him. She could see it in his bright eyes. And his lewd smile as she felt him positioning. She tried to open her mouth, but she couldn't breathe – so no words could come out either. Shaking her head to tell him to stop, she dropped one of her hands to the base of the seat, trying to find the button. But, she realized that she was too far up on the seat – and her fingers grazed the edge of the button, but she couldn't stretch enough to push it.

Panic. Dark spots. No air. Her lungs were burning.

And between her legs burned too as he pushed himself inside of her, so violently that even her dryness didn't stop him from getting all the way in.

And she heard him whisper, "How does it feel to be fucked like a real whore?" And he pulled out, and began thrusting back in.

She still couldn't breathe. And with the knowledge that he might not let her up, she extended her hands up into his face, and clawed her fingernails down his face.

Almost immediately his hands left her throat to cover his face, and she could hear his cry of pain somewhere in the distance. But her ears were still ringing as she sucked in as much air as she could handle, her hands still trying to reach for the button.

But the air that she breathed, on top of the lack of oxygen, and the pressure he had put on her throat, a cough built up inside of her, and before she knew it, before she could even cover her mouth, she coughed so violently that her head came off of the seat, curling up around her chest. Her eyes were closed as she tried to breathe – tried to stop her coughing, but over and over again, her body seized as her lungs tightened in her chest. Over and over.

Once her body was sure she had enough air, she stopped coughing, her head falling back exhausted on the seat behind her. And she concentrated on evening out her breaths, unable to think about anything else around her.

Until she heard his horrible voice above her. "Why, you little bitch!" He yelled, and a hand came down across her face. Her hand instinctively went for the button, but she found she couldn't even feel it anymore after the coughing, she must have shifted up. But she opened her eys to find a horrendous sight above her. Blood was everywhere. All over the man's white shirt. It was like a massacre had occurred. Spatters all over his face, even blood dripping from his horrible mustache. Dripping onto her stomach. And she watched him yell again, his hand again coming to her face. "You're a diseased little whore!"

She tried to open her mouth, to apologize, but a small cough came out instead, no blood flowing, but still just enough of a cough to reiterate what he was saying. "I paid good money for you."

Her body was so tired. She watched him reach down and pull up his pants. And she was glad. He was leaving. She didn't have to endure anything else like…

Until he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, pulling her out the door of the limo. She cried out in pain as his hand dug into her wrist, and she pulled away from him with all her might, but it wasn't enough. She fell to the sidewalk, her bare knees skidding against the concrete. And she said, "Stop. I'm not…"

But she felt his hands anchor into her hair and ripped her towards him with that grip, and he said, "You're the worst thing I've ever done." And she found herself being dragged into the front of the club. She tried to get her feet underneath her, but he was walking so fast, and he was pulling her hair… "And I'm getting my money back." He grumbled as he flung the door open and pulled her in behind him.

She couldn't fight back. She tried to pull away, but his grip was so tight. And her body was so tired. She was so exhausted. But her fingernails grabbed for his hand in her hair, and clawed down again, but he only slapped her face with his free hand and twisted her wrists until pain shot through her arms and she brought her hands down. "Let me GO!" She yelled, panic taking over as she realized that they were in the club – the club where no one knew what went on in that limo outside.

Her legs dragged across the carpet, and the lights in the club seemed so bright compared to the dimly lit limo outside. Of course, the club was also dim compared to normal lighting, but just the difference between where she worked and where she used to work for some reason crossed her mind. She felt his hand slap across her face once more, and then she felt her body flying to the ground as he not only let go of her hair, but gave her a push. The carpet burned into the palms of her hand as she fell, and she laid there for a minute, trying to catch her breath and not cough again like she had.

And she heard the man's voice above her. "You think this thing…" She felt him kick her leg. "… is worth what you charged?"

Oscar's voice, normally cool and controlled, sounded, almost panicked for a second. "What are you doing… in here?" He asked.

"I'm here to get my money back, you swindler."

The usual Oscar was back. And, trying to take control of the situation, said, "Let's take this up to my office, shall we?"

But the man – Lorelai wondered if Oscar had met his match – the man didn't budge. Nor did he lower his yelling voice, "No. Let's talk about this down here, where all of your customers can hear what a jackass you are, trying to pass this bag of shit for a high class prostitute."

Lorelai wished she could curl up and disappear. She knew the people in the club. The dancers. The bartenders. Even some of the customers. And she covered her face in shame, feeling hot tears come to her face.

Oscar argued, "I don't understand…"

And the man must have pointed to his shirt and face. "She did this to me." She peeked through her fingers to see him glaring down at her, "You're charging for sex with this diseased whore…"

It made her sound like she was riddled with horrible sores and contagious bacteria all over her body. It was just a cough.

But Oscar was trying to diffuse the situation. "I can guarantee you that she is completely clean and…"

The man scoffed and said, "I bet if I show this shirt to the rest of your customers, I'm sure they wouldn't believe you."

Lorelai's hands came off her face, and she twisted her neck to look up at Oscar from where she had been thrown to the ground. She watched as his usually controlled and demure face fell as she could see he was trying to think through something to say.

But the man drew her attention, and he looked down on her with hate in his eyes as he said, "I could have you sent to prison for a year for what you do." He was threatening her. Going to the cops? She could be imprisoned for a long time. And then what would happen to her kids? What would… He must have seen the fear in her eyes, because he crouched down and set his hand on her hip, just above her thong strap, and rubbed back and forth up the side of her body. "Does that scare you?" His voice was deceivingly kind until he let his hand grip into her skin, his nails tearing into her hip. "It should scare you, you fucking whore."

Terror seized her, just at the way he thought he could talk to her – hurt her – right here in front of Oscar. He was so bold. And brazen. And she curled her body up tighter, aware that her dress had fallen off in the struggle to get inside, and she was only clad in her bra and underwear. With all these people – thinking she was a diseased prostitute. God, and the thought of going to prison?

Finally Oscar spoke, and Lorelai expected him to kick the guy in the dick, sending him flying out the door for doing what he was doing to her. Or at least to tell him to get his hands off of her. Touching her this way – speaking to her this way – humiliating her this way – it wasn't something that Oscar would allow. Not with her. And not in front of this many people.

Oscar's voice was calm and strong, "You and I both know that the last thing I want is to make this into something bigger than it is." Diplomatic. Something Oscar was good at. The man stood to his feet, leaving Lorelai on the ground alone, which was a little bit better in terms of him being farther away from her. She pulled her legs up underneath her, sliding across the floor so she was closer to Oscar than the other man. "So what can I do for you to make this…" Oscar paused for effect, "…experience better?"

Lorelai looked up at him, confused at what he was saying. Was he giving the man the upper hand? Letting him call the shots? Not Oscar. Oscar was the one in control of everything. He would never give that up for this asshole of a man…

It was a few seconds before the man slyly said, "Well, I want a refund on my money."

Oscar nodded, and said, "I will see to that." That was final. Lorelai wouldn't be paid for what he had done to her. But right now, with the threat of him going to the police, Lorelai would take that.

But the man wasn't done. "And." Lorelai's eyes darted from Oscar to the man. His eyes greedily raping her with his eyes. She had seen it over and over. "… I want a free session with her."

Terror seized Lorelai's heart, and she instinctively grabbed onto Oscar's leg. And, through her raw throat, she begged Oscar, "Please, no. He really hurt me. I don't want…"

The man interrupted her, "You're going to let your girl tell her pimp what to do?" The idea of Oscar being her pimp grossed her out. He cared about her. He was just helping her get a job. The man went on. "And a free session compared to going to jail for years and years…" The man was still threatening Oscar now, trying to win him over. "I think even you would agree to that."

Lorelai was physically shaking, her legs underneath her body trembling on the ground even as she looked up at Oscar. He wouldn't let him do that. He wouldn't let this man hurt her. He would protect her.

But the next words shattered whatever ideals she had of Oscar.

"And if I agree to this, you won't…"

The words came out of Lorelai's mouth before she could even think. "No, Oscar." She grabbed his hand that was right by her face. Begging him. "You don't understand. He tried to choke me. He hurt me…" She wouldn't. He couldn't just…

But Oscar was only focused on the man, who stood there, victoriously. And he nodded, "I won't report anything."

And Lorelai's eyes went from the man – lewd and disgusting, with power in his eyes that Lorelai knew would hurt her – to Oscar, who stood looking as controlled as possible while being blackmailed into this. And she again wrapped her arms around his leg, and said, "I'm not going. I won't go. He's going to beat me so much." Pleading. "Oscar, don't let him…"

And the man stepped forward, and whispered something in Oscar's ear. But it was loud enough that Lorelai heard it. "And I want complete access to do whatever I want with her." Her heart was pounding against her chest. "Teach your whore a lesson or two." And then he sneered down at her, and said to Oscar, "I want an hour."

"No." Lorelai said, everything around her crumbling. Oscar wouldn't let him hurt her for an hour. Do things to her that she couldn't stop. He wouldn't. He…

Did. Nodded. And agreed. "An hour."

Lorelai tightened her hands around Oscar's leg, begging yet again, "Please!" She cried, tears running out of her eyes, "He's going to hurt me." When Oscar just looked down at her, she cried louder, "Did you hear me? He's going to hurt me?"

She pulled her body away as the man's hands reached down and tried to grab her. And she continued to plead. "You can't let him hurt me. He's…" Hands around her bare waist. That man's hands, that had been around her throat. And she held onto Oscar's leg with all her might, "NO!" She sobbed, "Make him stop! He's…"

And Oscar didn't even look down at her. Didn't even spare her a glance. Just stood there. While the man pulled her hands off of Oscar's leg, his arms wrapped around her waist while he lugged her to the door. She was screaming now. "PLEASE!" She cried. "HELP ME!" She flailed her arms and legs, clawing at his arms around her waist. Kicking at his legs. But no one came. No one stopped. One security guard moved to help her – but Oscar – she watched as he waved the guard off. Telling him to leave her be.

As the man pushed the door outside of the club open, Lorelai's strength gave out. No one was going to help her. No one cared. She whimpered in pain as he threw her to the floor of the limo.

She crawled to the corner of the limo, in the back, and she banged on the window – the window to the driver's seat. And she screamed, "Help! Please!" The driver might listen to her. Might throw the man out. She turned and saw the man taking his pants off for a second time that night, and she could tell he was enjoying watching her. But she just pounded her fists against the window. "Let me out!" And the window slid to the side – and she saw the driver who would help get her out of tough situations with the other customers. And she felt a rising of hope as she said, "He's going to hurt me… let me…"

And she watched as the driver rolled his window down. To see Oscar standing outside the limo. Her heart was pounding as she heard the man breathing behind her.

Oscar told the driver, "Go ahead and take a break."

He was leaving her alone. No way to get out. No one to help her. And Oscar's calm voice told the questioning driver, "Take an hour."

And then the window rammed shut just as hands wrapped around her neck from behind her, squeezing down on her while he whispered through her hair, "You're all mine." He let go of her neck for a second, allowing her to cough more blood up, and she saw it splattered against the window, running down like an omen, dripping as she wondered if she would bleed from more than just her coughing after tonight.