Sex slave concentration camps 1-10

This post was last edited by ptc077 on 2018-12-15 at 07:00. 34 Edits
Chapter 1
What's going on here? I have absolutely no idea. Half an hour ago, I was sitting at an outdoor teahouse drinking green tea. Although it's late August, the temperature in this southern city is still quite high. I'm not starting school for another two weeks, but I've arrived early. Luckily, the school has arranged accommodation for freshmen, saving me the trouble of finding a place to live.
The school hasn't started yet, so there are only a few early students here and there. Bored, I went for a stroll, only to realize how foolish I was when I came out. Even if there weren't many people at the school, at least there were old trees providing shade, while the streets were filled with the oppressive heat of tall buildings. Most importantly, it was only 1 p.m. Wearing a sleeveless shirt did almost no relief from the heat, and after walking around for a short while, I was incredibly thirsty. I just found a place to sit down, and the parasol shielded my sunburnt skin from the glaring afternoon sun, making it feel much more comfortable. Paired with some cool green tea, my earlier fatigue had almost completely disappeared.
"Sir, is this seat taken?" A neutral voice entered my mind. I looked up at the person and was stunned. The person in front of me was about my age, with very long hair, probably down to his waist, though it was tied up. No wonder, it's so hot these days, who would let their hair down? But that wasn't the point. The point was his gender—he was a man. It was the first time I'd seen a man with such long hair in real life, and he didn't have a single effeminate air about him; it was as if he was born with long hair.
"Sir, sir," the man called out a few more times when he saw me standing there dumbfounded.
"Ah! Nobody... nobody..." How embarrassing, to be so captivated by a man of the same sex, but I couldn't entirely blame myself. This man was incredibly handsome, not only because his long hair shone like dazzling gold in the sunlight, but also because of his perfectly proportioned figure. After sitting down, I noticed his face was also quite handsome, with smooth, delicate skin. But he also gave me an indescribable feeling, something like a seductive allure. I chuckled inwardly at myself for thinking of such a word, especially since he was a man.
After thanking me, he ordered a milk tea. I stopped looking at him, and my mind calmed down. For the next five minutes, I drank my green tea, and he drank his milk tea; it was quite peaceful. Feeling I'd rested enough, I prepared to leave. Unexpectedly, he also got up, probably having rested enough as well. It felt a bit like a coincidence. We smiled at each other and prepared to leave.
"Bang! Bang!" I recognized the sound; it was the starting gun at a track and field stadium. But what I saw was definitely a gun with far greater destructive power than one used in a competition. In a split second, the roughly 10-meter-long outdoor tea stall was surrounded.
Before anyone could even scream, they were shoved into a large truck that had somehow appeared. Perhaps we should be thankful that not many people came out at that moment, so including the staff, there were only about 20 people.
The truck sped along, and although the road was flat asphalt, we, crammed into it, were swaying from side to side. Occasionally, the truck would shake, and we would bounce up and down with it. After about 20 minutes, the truck finally stopped, and the doors opened. Fresh air rushed in, giving us a brief respite from the jolts, but looking closer, we saw dozens of guns pointed at us.
"Ah! Help!" Several of the more timid ones screamed. I didn't scream, but my legs were trembling.
"Shut up! Get out now!" one of the men, who seemed to be the leader, ordered us, gun in hand.
We trembled as we got out of the truck, almost all kneeling on the ground from sheer terror.
"Get up, hurry up!" the men urged, guns raised again.
"Hey! You woman, get up right now!" I turned around and saw a woman dressed like a white-collar worker kneeling on the ground, her legs weak. She tried to get up, supporting herself with her hands, but failed several times; she was clearly terrified.
Sure enough, the woman sobbed, "I...I...I can't...get up."
With a shout of "Trouble!", a gunshot rang out. Those of us who were already ahead turned around. The man who seemed to be the leader had killed the woman simply because she couldn't walk!
"What are you looking at! Move faster! Or you'll end up like this!" Everyone turned around instantly and hurried forward, their legs trembling. What would happen to the woman was no longer our concern; we only cared about whether we would survive. In that life-threatening moment, no one considered whether their actions were too cruel or inhumane.
We followed the group into the basement of a house. It was a completely empty basement, except for the four walls and an exit in the ceiling. Next, they gave each of us a piece of paper and asked us to write down our personal information.
"If you don't want to die, write properly. Of course..." The man who seemed to be the leader paused deliberately to observe our anxious expressions before coldly continuing, "If your family can't come up with a satisfactory amount, then I'm sorry, you'll have to die." He emphasized the word "die."
I was initially very nervous, but hearing the latter part of his words calmed me down. Their goal was money, and it was no small sum. I didn't believe my parents could get that much money; even if they did, my family would starve.
"How much do you want?" a trembling voice asked, belonging to a man nearing 40.
"Two million."
Hearing this answer, everyone gasped, but the man wasn't finished. "If one of you happens to be a millionaire, then it will be more than that."
No wonder he wanted our personal information.
"I'm a private company owner. How much do you want before you let me go?" the man who had spoken earlier asked again.
"Oh." The man who seemed to be in charge turned to the private business owner. "That'll be 20 million."
The private business owner's voice was no longer trembling. He calmly negotiated with them, "My company isn't very big, and the company's performance this year hasn't been very good. I absolutely can't come up with 20 million. But if I ask my family to borrow, we can raise 10 million at most."
The man fell silent after hearing this. Seeing him frown as if he couldn't make a decision, he finally said to the private business owner, "Give me the documents. If we find out you're lying, you'll be in serious trouble!"
Taking the paper, the man left the basement. About an hour later, he returned.
"Our boss has agreed to your terms. As long as you come up with 10 million, we'll let you go, but not immediately. We'll wait until everyone has come up with a number that satisfies us."
"So, do I still have to stay here with them? Life here is so inconvenient." With his life secured, the private business owner became even calmer.
The man, however, didn't get angry at his haggling, as if he had already guessed he would say that. "No," he said, "our boss said that only those who come up with a satisfactory number can live upstairs." He then had someone beside him lead the private company owner out of the basement.i=34> Everyone looked at the private company owner with envy. The remaining people followed suit and negotiated with them, leaving exactly 10 people. "Alright, you people, quickly bring over the papers you've written. As long as your family can come up with 2 million, you can leave." Having received tens of millions in one go, the man's tone softened considerably, but no one had forgotten that he was the one who had just shot the woman who was too scared to walk.

The remaining 10 people handed him their papers.
"Damn it! What does this mean? Blank papers!" The man's shout made us tremble again.
"I have no money." Two voices rang out simultaneously. Had someone else handed in blank papers like me? I looked at the speaker—it was him! The boy who had sat with me at the outdoor teahouse earlier.
"No money!" The man sneered, then slapped me, who was standing closer to him.
It hurt; my teeth felt like they'd been knocked out. A salty taste assaulted my taste buds; my mouth was definitely bleeding.
"Write properly, or you'll all be eating bullet casings!" Surprisingly, the man didn't kill us immediately like he had with the white-collar woman.
"I'm an orphan." I was thankful I didn't have any identification on me. If the 2 million ransom would plunge my family into ruin, I'd rather sacrifice myself.
However, "I'm an orphan." It seemed like I wasn't the only one saying that; the voices from before were a duet.
"You two have some nerve, playing us for fools!"
The boy and I spoke at the same time again. I glared at him, only to find he was looking at me too. Our eyes were saying the same thing: "You little brat, can't you come up with any other excuse?"
"Orphan, huh? This outfit looks pretty good." The man pulled at my collar.
The tight collar made it hard to breathe, and I stammered, "That...that...was...someone...felt sorry for me...given to me..."
"Brother Fei, the boss's calling you." A voice from above the basement saved me from suffocating.
Brother Fei dropped me and went upstairs, the rest of the men following. With a bang, the only exit slammed shut, and the basement lights were turned off. Luckily, the exit door was glass, bringing a sliver of light into the otherwise dark basement.
Chapter Two:
"What should I do? What if my wife won't let me borrow it?"
"I don't care, they have to prepare 2 million for me, I don't want to die!"
"No matter what, my mom has to get me 2 million."
We, left behind, ran around and shouted in the basement, and I wondered if I was too noble for making this sacrifice.
Everyone quieted down after a while because our physical needs were immediately brought to the forefront. Three or four hours had passed since we were captured. We had forgotten our normal physical needs because of the tension, but now that we were unsupervised, our nerves relaxed a little. Hunger, thirst, and other physical needs all erupted, and several people's faces were already flushed red, but their upbringing made them endure it. Among the 10 of us left, there were both men and women. To be honest, I was almost at my limit too; the water I had drunk earlier was still accumulating in my body.
I noticed that the light coming in was slowly dimming; it must be night now.
With a sudden "bang," the basement lights came on, catching our eyes, which had been accustomed to the dim light, off guard. Once they adjusted, the people who had captured us threw us ten loaves of bread before going back upstairs. Another "bang," and the basement plunged back into darkness.
Clutching the bread, fear crept over me. Were they planning to keep us locked up like this until my family paid me? I swallowed the bread without tasting it, huddled in a corner, my eyes wide open, too afraid to close them.
Someone sat down next to me. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I recognized him—it was the boy who had handed in the blank paper with me. His face seemed quite calm, unlike mine or the others, who were filled with panic.
Seeing me look at him, he gave a slight smile, a greeting, before burying his head in his knees. I turned my head away, still keeping my eyes open.
A stench filled the basement, which had only one exit, in the middle of the night—a man had lost control of his bladder. By this time, the basement was too dark to see his expression, but his stammering words revealed his embarrassment: "I...I...can't...can't...can't..."
This caused a commotion in the quiet basement, with those sitting next to him moving to the other side. The previously dull basement was now filled with a foul stench. After a few curses, everyone covered their noses and fell silent again.
The next day, the bread was thrown down directly from above, presumably because they knew what was happening down there.
I wondered why they hadn't killed me yet, and I believe the boy thought the same. I glanced at him discreetly, only to meet his eyes, which seemed to be glancing back at me as well. We both turned away awkwardly.
After eating the bread, the basement returned to silence, and we continued to wait anxiously for the outcome. By noon, three more people had lost control of their bladders, and the entire basement reeked. The ten people were split into two groups: the four sat together, and the remaining seven sat together. Maybe it was psychological, but even with my nose covered, the stench was unbearable, and I didn't think I could survive. So when they threw the bread down at noon, I yelled at them.
"You son of a bitch, let me out! You bastard! Rotten egg..." I ran out of words after a few, and started to worry that it wouldn't affect them, so all my yelling was for nothing.
"Grenade! Fried egg! Chicken egg! Duck egg! Rotten goose egg..." Suddenly, a strange, catchy curse came from the side. I turned around to see who was so arrogant, able to use such words. It was the boy. Why was he always following my lead?
But when he started cursing, the people upstairs burst out laughing. "Eggs, huh? That kid's got a screw loose.
" "You're the ones who's got a screw loose! You're rice buckets! Toilets! Water buckets! Iron buckets..." He cursed like he was just spouting "You son of a bitch!" when he didn't know what else to say. "Same, awkward, but effective. Because those guys had already started hurling insults at him.
'You fucking asking for it! How dare you insult us!'
'You...you fucking asking for it!'
'Alright! Kid, you're itching for a beating, aren't you? Let me give you a good rubbish.'
'You...you're the one who's itching for a beating!'
...
I'm pretty sure this guy isn't good at hurling insults at people; this might be his first time doing so. This is evident not only in his stiff insults and his stuttering when imitating someone else's insults, but also in his flushed face and unusually bright red ears sticking out of his hair. The sight of him stammering was quite amusing, but I wasn't in the mood for that now; I needed them to take me out.
'Boss!' The guy above suddenly stopped hurling insults at him, leaving his heels facing us.
'What's all the noise about!' That voice must have been their boss's; it was quite authoritative.""Sorry, boss! There's some kid downstairs causing trouble." "Oh, which one? Bring him up for a bit, we're pretty bored anyway." Just as he finished speaking, the exit door opened, and two men came down to grab him, but not me. Seeing them about to go upstairs, I panicked and charged at them, yelling, "Damn it!" It was the same nonsensical retort the boy had made earlier, mimicking what those guys had said, but I couldn't care less. As long as I didn't have to stay in this godforsaken place any longer, I was willing to try anything.

One of the two men was knocked down by my slam, falling towards the stairs. The boy had already dodged to the side before being pinned down.
After getting up, the man walked over to me, slapped me first, and then kicked me. My teeth, which had just healed from being beaten by that Fei guy yesterday, were bleeding again, and I could feel my intestines writhing in my stomach from the kick.
I knelt on the ground, pale-faced, but I didn't give up the idea of getting out. "Damn it... bastard..." I could hear my heart pounding; I was really worried he wouldn't take me up.
"Bring the troublemaker up too," the leader said. He probably couldn't see down there. But if we're talking about trouble, I was the one who started it; now that he said that, it was like I was "joining in the fun."
Unable to contain my anger towards the boy, I glared at him, but he didn't change his expression, acting as if nothing had happened.
Finally
, we were outside! Once outside, I realized how wonderful it was to breathe fresh air.
"Hurry up! Trying to run away while standing here!" The person who had been pushed was clearly retaliating, pushing me because he hadn't pushed the boy even once. Of course, that was because the boy had walked obediently, but I had been obedient too.
We stopped on the 5th floor. The 5th floor was divided in two: one side was the living room, and the other side had three rooms—I couldn't tell if they were bedrooms or something else—a very simple arrangement. It seemed only one person lived there; probably the boss.
"Boss, we've brought them."
Sure enough.
"Bring them in." It was Fei who responded. He came out from the rightmost room, glanced at us with a strange look, and I shivered.
"Alright, you can go down now."
"Yes, Fei."
I thought he would lead us inside, but he just gave a strange smile and went downstairs.
The large living room was now empty except for the boy and me. A sense of unease crept in; the atmosphere was so strange, completely out of my comprehension.
"Um, what's your name?" After standing there for a while, with no one else appearing, I casually asked the boy beside me.
"Lan Yu. And you?" he asked back, probably also looking for something to talk about.
"Ling Ling."
The conversation ended there. Frankly, we'd just been kidnapped together by chance; there was nothing else to talk about. What could we possibly say? I'm usually quite talkative, but in this unsettling environment, I really didn't know what to say. Besides, we'd been standing there for half an hour, and no one had come out. Most importantly, all I wanted to do was go to one place—the bathroom.
This time, I looked directly at his face; sure enough, it was flushed just like mine.
"Let's keep talking, that'll distract us."
"Okay, distract us."
"Yeah, distract us."
Another awkward silence fell. For some reason, we just couldn't continue the conversation.
"Turn right, the restroom's over there." A voice rang out, and we all turned to look at the source of the voice. There stood a man with a hideous face and a terrifying physique.
His face was hideous because of the scars on either side of his cheek, and his physique was terrifying because I'd never seen a taller, stronger man before; he must have been 195 centimeters tall. Incongruous with his appearance was the smile on his lips, as if he were constantly scheming against others. Logically, scheming people usually have a pointed face, a monkey-like appearance, and a short stature.
"Why aren't you going?" he asked, his tone seemingly favoring an upward inflection. He'd used the same tone in the basement earlier, but we'd been listening through the floorboards then, which was why we hadn't recognized him then.
Since he'd said that, Lan Yu and I quickly headed towards the restroom.

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Sex slave concentration camps 1-10

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