"She is a virgin, isn't she?"
Phoebe shivered in the skimpy, see-through baby doll nightie she had been forced to wear.
"Oh, I can guarantee that!" the tall girl, with the long dark hair and green eyes, replied.
"Tina, how can you do this do me!" cried Phoebe in despair. "We have been best friends since we were small!"
The three of them were standing in a cellar room somewhere in the city. The man, who called himself Frank, carefully studied Phoebe's lovely, exposed body as Phoebe's best friend looked on.
"Yes, we were good friends while you were a skinny, flat, little girl, but now that you have blossomed, at 18, I don't want any competition at the high school cafeteria table. I've seen you flirting and batting your eyes at the boys, don't deny it!" Tina said.
"I can't help it if they look at me!" Phoebe complained.
"Well, they won't be looking at you anymore," said Tina. "Frank here will take care of that, won't you?"
The older man with a thick mustache leered at Phoebe and replied. "That's for sure! You brought her in just in time, we have a game tonight and we needed a prize."
Tina had fooled Phoebe, telling her they were going to a party and instead drove her into the city to a dilapidated building. Once there, Frank had forced Phoebe to strip as Tina chose an outfit from a trunk filled with scanty items. She picked a lacy ensemble that was best suited to display her friend's luscious body. Phoebe was wearing white high-heels with white thigh-high stockings and a white thong. The front triangle of the thong was shaped like a butterfly and was partly see-through making Phoebe's pussy look like it was part of the body of the insect. Phoebe's shoulders were bare, with a loose, see-through white top, only prevented from falling off her body by her shapely breasts. The outfit hid very little of her tight, petite body, which is perhaps why Tina had chosen it.
"What about my money?" Tina asked.
"The merchandise should bring a good profit," Frank replied. ''Here's $500 for your efforts."
"Come on," Tina replied. "She got a hot body and that so, so innocent look that says 'virgin pussy.' Surely she's worth twice that much! Check out her tits, they're perfect!"
"Yeah, but after the game I have all the expense of smuggling her out of the country!" Frank replied as he whipped a pencil from behind his ear, pushed the filmy top out of the way and slid it under Phoebe's left tit. Tina was right. Phoebe's breasts were perfect showing the teardrop curve of a large tit, but still firm enough not to trap the pencil and keep it from falling to the floor with a clatter. Picking up the writing utensil Frank said, "Alright, here's $750. But for that price I want you to get her shaved and posed for the presentation."
Tina nodded, took the cash, then grabbed Phoebe by the elbow and steered her into a small bathroom. Pulling down Phoebe's thong and forcing her to spread her legs, Tina spread gel on her golden bush and with a razor, started removing it.
"What are you doing to me? What's going to happen?!?" cried Phoebe, tears starting to form in her pretty eyes. She was scared. Frank had a gun tucked into his belt.
"Guys love shaved pussy, so you're getting shorn. Then, in an hour or so you will be losing your virginity," Tina replied. "Afterwards you will be auctioned off the highest bidder and shipped overseas to a brothel. Blond girls, with vivid blue eyes, and nice bodies are in great demand in places like the middle-east and Asia."
After Phoebe's pubic hair was removed, and Tina cleaned her pussy with a towel, her thong was pulled back up and she was led down the hall to another room.
The small room they entered seemed to be some kind of stage. A closed curtain separated them from some low male voices on the other side of the veil. In the center of the stage was a Victorian chaise lounge like out of an old movie. Tina directed Phoebe to lay across it, then positioned the blonde's arms and legs in a way to best display her alluring body.
"Be a good and obedient girl and it will go easier for you," said Tina, as she left the room.
For a minute Phoebe lay there wondering what was going to happened now. Then a voice on the other side of the curtain announced, "Gentlemen, the prize!"
The curtains suddenly opened and Phoebe was staring into a luxuriously appointed parlor. In the center was a round table. Four men sat around the table, with their heads turned to look at her. Next to the stage stood Frank. "This young lady is a guaranteed virgin and the winner will have the privilege of opening her delicate flower tonight," he said.
The table was obviously set up for poker. Phoebe nervously looked at the men seated around it, wondering which one of them would be fucking her before the end of the evening.
To her right on the side of the table facing her was a fat man with smarmy features smoking a cigar. "Yes, this little one will make me a lot of money when I get her to Buenos Aries, " he said, in a thick Spanish accent.
To her left, on her side of the table sat a thin Asian man in a traditional robe. "She would also be a money maker in Shanghai," he said, looking her up and down.
On the far side of the table, on her right was a bald man with a goatee wearing an Arabian type robe. "The rich oil sheiks will pay top dollar for an hour with a girl with blond hair and blue eyes," he smirked. "I look forward to sampling the merchandise after I win!"
The man the far side of the table, on her left-side, said, with a smile, "Well, you haven't won yet." His accent sounded British and he immediately reminded her of one of those actors that played James Bond in the movies. Dressed in a sharp three-piece suit, he seemed to be extremely tall, strong and self-possessed with piercing blue eyes that examined her like a cat watched a bowl of cream.
The game started and Phoebe scrutinized the play nervously. She didn't know much about poker, but figured out that whoever was winning the most chips was probably ahead. She looked at each of the men. The thought of losing her virginity to the fat man with the cigar made her feel sick to her stomach, but neither the thin man or the bald man were much better. She had to admit though that the tall Briton was had a certain confidence about him that she found attractive. But would he win? And if he did, when he was through with her, what would be her fate?
As the game drew to a close the fat man seemed to be ahead. The thin man and the bald man were clearly behind and running out of chips. On what seemed to be the last hand they both folded.
