Pedophilia

Disclaimer: One day I'll put something here that will be so original and so awesome…people will write a fanfic off of it's awesomesauce. Until then…standard disclaimers apply.

Warnings: This is a very touchy subject and has mentions of rape, physical/mental abuse of children. If this offends you in any way please, do not hesitate to press the back button now. I don't want to hear how this offends you when you have a choice of whether or not you want to read this. Thank you.

Author's Notes: Word, kids! There's been a lot of interest in this so, as promised, here's the second chapter. I certainly hope it doesn't disappoint, however, it's got a lot of touchy subjects - someone's bound to be offended or displeased somehow.

Extra Side Note (Please read before continuing): It's very hard to decide what to do regarding characterization. I really enjoy the characterization given to them by the creators of Kingdom Hearts, but, it's hard to keep them in character given the scenario and setting of this fic. Going off that - I've done a lot of research on the matter of Human Trafficking, from government sites to testimonies, and so on and so forth, to better the reality and believability of this fic (if Homeland Security comes knocking on my door I'm blaming you guys!) so I sincerely hope that it's well enough put together for all of you. All in all - I'll do my very best to keep them characterized properly and ensure the story is at least half-way believable. My apologies if I fail at either.

I'm not your boyfriend baby / I'm not your cute little sex toy

Nah, Nah, Wont be your nasty little boy

Axel is torn a billion different directions all at once. He wants more than anything to save the boy clinging to his jacket. He wants to nurse him back to health - to give him a night of rest. A night of normalcy. He wants to watch those ocean blues flutter closed after deglazing from the drug-induced high - blond spikes falling flat against a soft pillow as he dreams of home and his mother. Yet…at the same time…

He swallows a dry, dry lump in his throat - the flesh inside his mouth sticking together.

At the same time he wants to give the boy what that aching body is so blatantly begging for. He wants to touch him, ravage his small Ecstasy tripping body. Watch as those fingers - fingers that are wrapped so tightly in his tie and suit jacket - curl and twist into sheets as dirty words fall helplessly from parted lips.

Axel shakes his head. He can't breathe. This doesn't happen to him.

It doesn't.

It…

"Axel…." The way Roxas says his name makes his heart beat faster and slower at the same time.

"I can't…" Lies. His mind and body scream at him.

Roxas' head hurts. His world spins. His body aches. With a wince he rests his head against Axel's chest - fingers still wound in the silk fabric of his red tie and black jacket. It's with the grace of some merciful God that Zexion chooses to walk up when he does.

"I have to go." Axel says in what seems to be a mixture of relief and anguish.

"…please." Zexion watches the scene unfold, eyes locked on his partner's reactions to the drugged boy clinging to him.

Axel can't think. He's lost when that warm body wraps around his just so. "…I'll try."

They're all taken to the large room in the back end of the foyer. For the children who have already been here, it's a terrifyingly dark place. The previous hours of the evening seeming Heaven in comparison to the Hell that was about to ensue, because once you stepped through those doors and into the Bidding Room…

Xemnas steps out from behind the closed French doors, pointing at Kairi. Roxas watches silently as she walks for the first time into the Bidding Room. He hopes someone has warned her of what's to come. That once inside she'll strip nude and be displayed to all that were interested in her. That she'll stand there in silent shame until Xemnas get's a high enough bid to sell her out for the night…

And then…

Sora bites nervously at his nails beside Roxas, and its instinct when he reaches over and wraps a loving arm around his brother's shaking shoulders. Sora plays the part of a strong individual up until this time every night…and every night he crumbles - completely shatters - until morning comes and rebuilds him once again.

Hayner sits silently in a corner, playing detachedly with the dog-tags around his neck. He's probably the one who down plays his horror the most…but Roxas knows better than to believe his tough façade…because Roxas has heard him cry harder than any of the others.

"Are you okay?" Roxas asks. His voice seems so far away. He wants to tell Sora of the man with fire red hair and eyes as green as the forest back home. But he's scared. Scared shitless of the possibility that it's all a ruse. That he'll get his brother's hopes up…

Sora's hopes are the only thing that keep them going.

Keeps him going.

"Yeah…"

"Wanna play the guessing game?" Sora asks with half a smile.

Roxas nods, "Sure." They did this occasionally, on nights where there wasn't much to say - or on nights they were terrified - they'd attempt to make the best of it in the only morbidly fun way they knew how. Their game was simple enough, they'd guess who was going to purchase them - after having met most all the potential purchasers hours before - and attempt to guess what torturous hell they'd be put though. Even through all it's morbidity, it got them through, and, in a sense, it prepared them for what might come.

"I think the tall blond man is going to purchase me. His name started with an L." Sora states quietly.

"I saw him watch you, and I think your right. He seems like he could have a…kind demeanor?" Roxas treads lightly, he never wants to suggest something that Sora will believe then have it turn out the wrong way.

Roxas couldn't bare having Sora's disappointment on his shoulders. His own was already too much.

"Yeah…then again…" Sora falls quiet and Roxas doesn't have to ask why. Because, then again, the man looks like he could be one terribly dominating, sick bastard.

Roxas fights the urge to laugh bitterly. It's ironic really. Playing this game and saying things like, 'They might be kind'…it's like sitting in a lions cage and saying, 'Well that one has duller teeth, so it wont hurt as much.' They knew it would hurt, regardless of how 'nice' one seemed. Because, in the end, it really only came down to the fact that everyone was here for the same, sadistic reason.

"I think…" - Roxas near shoots himself in the foot for almost saying hope - "That a redhead is going to buy me."

Sora nods, "I saw you spent a lot of time with him." He's quiet for a long time, then his eyes fix on a picture across the room. "How do you do it, Roxas? How do you act like you…want it?" Sora cringes at the word, for how could any of them in this prison want something so terrible.

This question takes Roxas aback. He doesn't quite know how to answer the question…because he doesn't rightly understand himself. He'd tried being scared, pathetic, and a billion other shades of helplessness. Then one time, he tried making the best of it - a morbid thought, but, really, what wasn't morbid in this place? - and it paid off in the sense that, for wanting it - for being 'a greedy little whore' - he wasn't beaten as badly, wasn't roughed around. It was his call. His say. He dominated. And, sometimes, it was nice. Nice in the sense that he had someone who would thank him, or treat him decently. Some people even tried to take it slow and gentle, show him how things could have been his first time - as if he'd gone to prom and lost it the normal way…

Normal.

Roxas scoffs aloud. He was anything but normal.

"I don't, Sora." Is the only reply Roxas can think to say. "I make my purchaser believe I do."

"Why?" Sora's eyes are still fixed on the painting across the room. It's of a lighthouse and a beautiful oceanscape - waves crashing, so real Roxas swears he can almost smell the saltine water and hear those crystalline waves crash against the rocky shore.

"To avoid punishment…but sometimes it backfires, most want someone they can dominate. I think that's why people get into this kind of thing. They can't feel powerful over someone their own age, but throw a child into the mix…they want that sense of power."

"You're so smart."

"I'm so not smart." Because smart wouldn't have been throwing myself at the one person who's trying to save us.

Xemnas peeks his head around the corner and points at Sora. Roxas feels his heart sink when the brunette squeezes his hand and smiles, "See you in the morning, Roxas."

"Yeah. See you then."

This was probably the hardest part for Roxas. Watching his brother - whom oozed innocence like it was going out of style - walk into a room where everyone would take advantage of it. Rape it. Rape him.

Roxas had had the displeasure of seeing what his brother's face looked like during these moments, when Xemnas had called them in and…and…

Axel, please.

"Roxas…" The sound of Demyx's sing-song voice catches Roxas off guard, he straightens up and wipes at the corners of his eyes. Demyx slides along the bench to Roxas' side. The teen seems so much older than Roxas where height is concerned…regardless of whether or not he really was.

Roxas feels most sorry for Demyx. The kid had been in here for years…

"Did you…" Demyx frowns, trying to figure out the best way to put it without everyone around hearing. Roxas cocks his head to the side, then remembers what Axel had said: "Across the room talking to the older blond is my partner, Zexion."

"Um, yeah. I noticed him too." Roxas nods, elbows resting on knees that are pulled to his chest.

"Do you think…"

"…I don't know. We can only hope, right?"

"What are you two sissies bitching about over there this time?" Hayner asks with a roll of his eyes, pushing himself up against the wall into a standing position. Sometimes Roxas wonders if Xemnas gives Hayner more drugs than anyone else to calm his rude demeanor. Because the way Hayner walks, it's as if he has zero equilibrium, and the way his eyes are always so bloodshot…

"Any ideas on who's gonna purchase you tonight, Hay?" Demyx asks gently. Everyone speaks in gentle voices at this time of night - ecstasy heightens everything about every sense.

"I'm pretty sure a guy by the name of Xaldin. Kinda looks like a Neanderthal."

Demyx winces and shakes his head, "He acts like one too."

"He's had you?"

Demyx scoffs, the most bitter laugh coming from his lips, "Who hasn't?"

The room falls silent and they continue waiting. When Xemnas steps out and points at Roxas, his heart skips a beat, mouth going dry to the point that he can't swallow. Shakily he stands up, walks to Xemnas, then into the bidding room.

"Strip." Xemnas' voice comes over the intercom. The lights over Roxas are so bright, it makes his body temperature rise each and every time he's in here. He winces, staring ahead of him, but the way the lights are positioned, it makes it to where the child-whores can't see their bidders.

With shaking hands - drugs and alcohol make every action harder, it seems - Roxas undoes the pure white belt holding up the pure white pants. They pool around his ankles leaving him bare to the world -

- Xemnas doesn't believe in undergarments.

Using his teeth, Roxas bites at the thumbs of each white glove, peeling them off his hands as he steps out of the clothing around his ankles. When he removes the naval hat atop his head he hears Xemnas' voice across the intercom once again.

"We'll start the bidding for Roxas, age fifteen, at nine-hundred and thirty BRL. For those American's with us that's five-hundred US dollars and for those from Europe that's three-hundred and sixty-five Euro. Our translators at the sides of the room can help you figure currency conversions as needed."

Roxas can feel his head rolling from side to side as he tries to keep it straight. His body feels like it's on fire - his squinted, blood-shot eyes trying almost desperately to seek out those emerald jades.

He scratches nervously at his arm when he hears the first sets of bids start to slow. Bids coming at a ten second interval instead of nearly every three seconds. When the rate slows again…twenty seconds now…his heart begins to race.

"Sold, for nine hundred US dollars." Xemnas' voice comes across the intercom. One of the handlers - Xemnas' men who take care of transporting, medicating, feeding, and providing other such needs - comes to collect Roxas by the upper arm. A blindfold is placed over Roxas' eyes as to keep him fro seeing those who didn't attend the party and wished to remain anonymous.

Roxas stumbles at the pace the handlers are going, bare feet tripping over one another as he struggles to blindly keep up. At the sound of a door opening, Roxas is shoved forward into the appointed room, falling to his hands and knees as the door closes and locks behind him.

He stays like this, only moving to sit upright - hands tucked between his legs as he listens for any sign of movement. Sometimes purchaser's enjoyed toying with their child.

The silence continues for what Roxas would guess to be at least four minutes straight, until the brush of shoes against the wooden floor is heard. Roxas braces himself for whatever may come - he's been smacked, kicked, pulled by the hair, tenderly caressed, shoved forward and taken from behind.

The purchaser squats before him and Roxas' heart races, hands curling into terrified fists between his knees. A hand slides behind his head, playing with his honey-blond spikes in an almost affectionate fashion. He can feel the purchaser lean forward and suddenly the heat of the other's breath pours over the left side of his face - the smell of tequila strong and fresh.

Lips press against his ear and his stomach flips when they twist into a smile.

"Well Roxas, a deal's a deal."

I'm not your boyfriend, baby / I can't grant your every wish

I'm not your night and shining armor / So I'll just leave you with this kiss

A buncha research went into this just to make sure I was doing everything right so far.

I was glad to see that I was in fact right and that yes, it does take the FBI mannnny years to even attempt catching these mother fuckers, because they chronically move from one place to another, and in Brazil (which is where I've placed this particular portion of the fic, which is what BRC is 'Brazilian Real Currency') it's exceptionally hard, because nearly eighty percent of their prostitution is children under the age of seventeen.

Let me just say here that Child Sex Tourism is a terrible thing, and happens much more often than we think. What's even more unjust is that these children are forced from their homes into a world of the most terrible horrors we could think to imagine, and then, when help comes, sometimes it's in the form of prosecution against the child - a lot of the time the children are rescued in their twenties, after many, many years of this terrible 'service', and are thrown in jail for prostitution.

With alllll that being said, I hope this chapter didn't disappoint. Sorry it took so long, guys.

As always I deeply appreciate your interest.

Thanks for Reading.

Ace Anomaly