Abducted

Disclaimer: I don't own Fairly Odd Parents

Chapter 6

"Hey, wake up Princess."

I opened my eyes slowly. My wife had been turned upside down twice already. First I was kidnapped then held for random. I was supposed to be released in two days after my father paid. Then I was suddenly shuffled off somewhere else and sold into prostitution because my kidnappers thought my father went to the FEDS. And now someone was interrupting my troubled sleep for only God knows what.

"What, is Mr. Cutter here?" I asked still groggy.

"Do you want me to call him?" an unfamiliar asked and I jumped, "don't worry girlie, I'm Serena, the Canadian," she said with a laugh and I noticed her accent.

Serena was tall, 5ft 10. I had no idea how Mr. Cutter could hide her. She was blonde with twinkling blue eyes and the legs of a goddess. She wore a low cut white top, black pants and sandals. Her outfit was much more laid back than what the others wore last night. She was the first female in here I saw not wearing heels.

"Princess, hi, it's question time," the person who woke me said, "I woke her, so I'm first," she added.

"Um, Callie right?" I asked and got a nod, "hi…I mean good morning," I said and received peals of laughter.

"Well mannered isn't she?" Delilah teased.

"Leave her alone," Greta chastised, "just ask your questions."

"How late is it?" I couldn't tell because the room had no windows.

"Almost noon," Greta said, "so…do you know why you're here?"

"Hey! I'm asking the questions here," Callie snapped and pushed Greta down.

I was shocked by her propensity for violence. Worse, Greta just started laughing. Despite the obvious bruise on her head as she rose to her feet. Delilah was frowning though.

"I told you what would happen if you harmed anyone in this room again," Delilah said dangerously, "look at Greta's head!" she raged, "does that spell 'Passion' ? And I'll punch you in the mouth if you even start with the word make-up."

Callie's eyes widened while Greta hurried over to a cracked full length mirror in the corner. A stream of expletives flowed out her mouth.

"I'll help you with that," Serena said quickly, "violent C strikes again," she added.

I looked at Callie worriedly. I was surprised to see her on the verge of crying.

"Um, my name's Trixie Tang," I said, "I was taken when I went out to meet my boyfriend," I told her, "I was supposed to go for ransom but got sent here when my kidnappers believed my Dad had contacted the FEDS."

Callie stared at me open mouthed, her tears gone.

"You're really Trixie Tang?" Delilah asked incredulously, "The Dean bought you?"

"Shush," Serena said quickly, "after you've been…deflowered, we can talk about Dean."

I was completely confused. I thought Mr. Cutter ran everything. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. The top man wouldn't be caught dead in the breaking room unless he took personal pleasure or had to be there. Mr. Cutter was obviously at home there, plus he threatened to cut me himself, not use one of him men. Mr. Cutter was just a top notch underling. I wanted to crawl under a rock for not realizing it sooner.

"You thought it was Mr. Cutter right?" Greta asked from the mirror, "that's how his type behaves, like you owe him money," she told me, "you don't owe him a thing."

"Unless you're defiant," Serena added, "don't forget what happened to me."

The room suddenly had an uncomfortable silence. I could tell we'd hit a sore spot.

"So," Delilah spoke, "what was it like being…you know a Tang?"

"Oh, it was," I stopped as the memory of my past life flowed over me, "it was…amazing," I said, "I got to go to expensive parties, have name brand clothes, live in mansions, have connections and rich school friends," I told them, "I had the perfect life and I never fully appreciated it, no one does," I finished and buried my face in my hands.

"I lived on the streets of Detroit," Callie said, "and nothing about my life was perfect," she said bitterly.

"Still, it must be better than here," I insisted.

"Depends on what you see as bad," Callie countered.

"Nothing's good here," I said frowning.

"There's worse things though," Delilah said, "I get assigned to different men at drop offs, Callie and Greta have to work the streets," she said and looked at her twin sadly, "at least I get taken to nice places at times, even if there's a time limit and I can't get wined and dined like the Society Girls."

"Society girls?" I asked.

"They're the ones with the best chance of becoming call girls," Greta said airily, "imagine making so much money that you can be with less than five guys a night and make more money in a night than on my best week," she said, "plus as a call girl, you can make a list of the best customers and get them regularly as long as they pay, not just a random wave of nasty sweaty men in pick-ups and cheap Toyotas."

"Remember that Pinto?" Callie reminded her with a shudder.

Greta sighed in exasperation. It was so obvious that she wanted to rise up in ranks. I felt bad for her. I wanted nothing more than to get out.

I looked over at Serena and mouthed agreement with her on wanting to get out. She nodded and smiled. It seemed that we were the only ones in this room that truly desired to get out. I wondered what punishment she got if she still wanted to escape.

I was asked other questions but my thoughts remained on hopes of escape. It seemed so hard but nothing quelled my desire. I'd rather die than live out my life as a prostitute.

It was now two weeks since meeting my roommates and Mr. Cutter said it was my 'Cherry Night.' But unlike most mine was special. I dressed as he instructed and waited.

"We're going to a hotel," Saul said leading me out, "run and I'll break you in myself," he growled and I promised to behave.

The drive seemed to take forever. I just wanted this night to be over. The SUV eventually parked and I stepped out to see a five star hotel. I had an overcoat covering my blue halter dress and a huge scarf and sunglasses to hide my face.

We slipped in past kitchen staff and we led to a door that put smack in the middle of the lobby. A man stepped forward with a smile and led us to the fourth floor.

"Knock on that door at the end over there," Saul told me as I handed over the glasses and scarf, "I'll say here for a few minutes in case he gets funny, scream out 'fire' if he tries anything not agreed upon."

I nodded. I understood funny to mean drunk, threatening or someone I knew. Mr. Cutter made it clear if anyone found me I'd either be moved or killed. Then there was my family to think about.

I took a deep breath and walked down the corridor. Another day it would be beautiful. I'd be thinking of all the rich people on this floor and feel right at home.

But I was here to be a prostitute. That reality weighed heavily on me as I neared the door. I soon stood in front of it and knocked.

The door opened to reveal a Caucasian man in his early thirties with chocolate brown eyes. He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair as he smiled at me.

He's young at least. Well…for the options I was told of ages between 27 to 60 years, I'll take him. Guess younger men couldn't afford the price I was sold for.

"A hot grey eyed blonde," he said approvingly,"come in, I heard you were raised on manners Beauty?"

"Yes I was," I said stepping in, "such a wonderful room, it must've cost you a lot," I said remembering to gush over one extravagant thing to get the customer relaxed like I was taught.

"Thank you, let's have a glass of wine," he said beaming, "call me Dan."

"Thank you Dan," I said taking the seat he led me to, "I hope this evening will be to your satisfaction."

"Oh it will be," Dan said pouring red wine, "don't you worry about that."

End Chapter 6

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