Miranda's POV
I stood there in that massive foyer, my heart hammering like a drum. Aunt Carla was right in front of me, suitcase in hand, and for a split second, I thought she was my savior. "Aunt Carla! Thank God. These guys—they grabbed me from school. You have to help me get out of here!"
She pulled me into a quick hug, but it felt wrong—cold, like she was going through the motions. "Miranda, calm down, sweetie. It's all sorted now."
"Sorted? What do you mean?" I stepped back, glancing at the handsome stranger—Albert Mondragon—who was watching us with this smug look, arms crossed over his broad chest.
Aunt Carla glanced at him too, then back at me. Her eyes were hard, not the usual tired ones I'd seen since Mom and Dad died. "Look, things have been rough. Debts piling up—gambling, mostly. I needed cash fast."
"Gambling? But what does that have to do with me?" My voice cracked. The suitcase caught my eye again—stuffed with money, crisp bills overflowing.
She sighed, like I was being difficult. "Albert here... he's a billionaire. Made his fortune in tech, but before that, he was big in adult films. Porn star stuff. He likes company—pretty girls like you. Pays well for it. This settles everything."
My stomach dropped. "You... sold me? To him?"
"Not sold, exactly," she snapped. "It's an arrangement. You'll live here, keep him happy. Luxury, Miranda. Better than scraping by with me."
I shook my head, tears stinging. "No. This can't be real. You're my family!"
Albert chuckled softly from the side, his voice deep and smooth. "It is real, Miranda. And it'll be fun—if you let it."
I ignored him, grabbing Aunt Carla's arm. "Please, don't do this. Take me home. We can figure out the money together. I'll get a job, anything!"
She shook me off, pocketing a thick envelope Albert handed her without a word. "Too late, kid. Deal's done. He's free to do whatever he wants with you now."
"Whatever he wants?" I whispered, voice breaking. Tears streamed down my face. "Aunt Carla, how could you? Mom and Dad—they trusted you!"
She rolled her eyes. "They aren't here, are they? And neither am I anymore." She turned toward the door, suitcase wheeling behind her.
"No! Wait!" I lunged after her, but two guards— the same suits from the car—stepped in front of me, blocking the way. "Let me go! Aunt Carla!"
She didn't even look back. The door slammed shut, echoing through the foyer like a gunshot.
I collapsed to my knees, sobbing. "This isn't happening..."
Footsteps approached. Albert knelt beside me, his hand gentle on my shoulder. "Hey, easy. It's not as bad as it seems."
I jerked away. "Don't touch me!"
He cupped my chin anyway, tilting my face up. His touch was firm, but not rough—yet. "You'll learn to enjoy this life, Miranda. Trust me. Luxury, pleasure... I'll show you things you've never imagined."
"Pleasure? You're a monster!" I spat, scrambling back.
He stood, offering a hand. "Come on. Let's get you to your room. You need rest."
I didn't take his hand, but the guards nudged me forward. We climbed a grand staircase, down a hallway lined with art I barely noticed. He opened a door to a bedroom straight out of a magazine—huge bed, silk sheets, a balcony overlooking gardens.
"Here," he said. "Make yourself comfortable."
"Comfortable? I'm a prisoner!" I yelled, backing into the room.
He smiled, that same mix of amusement and something darker—desire. "For now. Goodnight, Miranda."
The door clicked shut, locked from outside. I banged on it. "Let me out!"
No answer. I slid down the door, tears flowing again. How could she? My own aunt...
Minutes? Hours? I don't know how long I cried. Then a key turned. Albert entered, carrying a tray—wine, cheese, fruits. "Thought you might be hungry."
"Get out," I muttered, wiping my eyes.
He set the tray on a side table, ignoring me. "Eat. You'll need your strength."
"For what? Your sick games?"
He sat on the bed's edge, voice low and seductive. "For a night you'll never forget, I'm patient, but eager."
My skin prickled. That's when I saw it... a tiny red light in the corner, blinking. A camera? "What's that? Are you filming me?"
Albert glanced up, smirking. "Security, and maybe more. Relax—it's just us."
Terror spiked. "No. Stay away!"
But he didn't. He pulled me up gently, hands on my waist. "Shh. Let me show you."
I pushed at his chest. "Stop!"
His lips crashed onto mine, hungry. I froze, then shoved harder. "I said no!"
He backed off a bit, eyes dark. "Fight all you want. It'll make it sweeter."
Before I could run, he scooped me up, tossing me onto the bed. "Let's start slow."
"Albert, please..." But my voice wavered. He was handsome, damn it—those eyes, that body.
He stripped off his shirt, revealing ripped abs. "Touch me."
"No."
He grabbed my hand, placing it on his chest. "Feel that? Your future."
I yanked away, but he was on me, kissing my neck. His hands roamed, unbuttoning my blouse, exposing my breasts. He cupped them, thumbs teasing nipples until they hardened. "Perfect tits," he murmured.
"Stop," I gasped, but my body betrayed me, arching.
He slid down, yanking off my pants and panties. My pussy exposed, already wet from the mix of fear and unwanted heat. "Look at that pretty pussy."
His tongue dove in, parting my folds, lapping slow. It entered deep, thrusting like a mini cock, swirling inside my walls. I moaned, hips bucking. "Oh God..."
He sucked my clit, tongue fucking harder, fingers spreading me wide. Juices flowed, coating his chin. I came hard, screaming, legs shaking.
"Good girl," he said, standing. His pants dropped, dick huge—thick shaft, veined, head swollen. "Now, suck."
I shook my head, but he guided my mouth. Lips stretched around the head, mouth covering his dick fully. Tongue swirled the underside as he thrust gently, hitting my throat. "Deeper," he groaned.
I gagged but sucked, bobbing, tasting pre-cum. He pulled out, flipping me over. "Time for the real thing."
His dick pressed my pussy entrance, head nudging lips apart. Slow push—stretching me inch by inch, filling my tight virgin hole until balls deep. "Fuck, so tight."
He pounded raw, dick slamming in and out, hitting spots that made me see stars. Breasts bounced, pussy clenching around him. "Come on my cock," he commanded.
I did, orgasming again as he filled me with hot cum, spilling deep.
We collapsed, breathing heavy. "See? Not so bad," he whispered.
But the camera's light still blinked, recording everything. What had I done?