FicWad

Wow, guys, just... wow. I never knew this would get positive reviews, let alone points. I'll let you have the rest of the story. Thank you so much. I love you so much I don't even xD So yeah, you can have the rest of the story. But for now, here is chappie trois.

I woke up in a dark room. I didn't recognize anything at all. The room was small, and smelled dirty. I was lying on a thin, damp pillow. I subconsciously wiped my forehead, which was covered in cold sweat. That probably explained the pillow. I sat up and looked around, feeling somewhat woozy.
Where the fuck am I?
The thought replayed over and over in my mind like a broken record. I tried to explore around, but in the dark my hands could only find the cold plaster walls, along with another pillow and a blanket that smelled like it hadn't been washed in about thirty years.
How did I get here? That was my next thought. I pressed rewind in my brain and tried to think back to later events in the day. At first I found nothing, but then I felt a cold breeze. Suddenly, as I realized what I was wearing, my memory came flooding back like a dam had been burst.
The Starbucks. The obnoxious screaming crowd. The bodyguard. The pictures.
I... was still a porn star.
Who was currently fashioning a pair of ripped skinny jeans, and a tattoo on my chest that said in fancy red cursive, "Call Me An Angel And I'll Be Your Little Devil." What the fuck?! When did that get there? I hated, hated, hated needles. Always had, always will. Upon further self inspection I also realized I had on a plastic headband sporting red plastic devil horns, and a red plastic pointy devil tail protruded from my backside. There were also shackles around my ankles, which to my relief, weren't attached to anything else. I hoped they were just part of the slutty devil theme. Then another horrifying thought hit me: who the hell dressed me? And what had been done with my old clothes?
I could feel my self-conscious levels skyrocket as I stared down at myself. Since people thought I was a porn star, that meant I would have to go out in public wearing this shit, wouldn't I? And I was not fucking comfortable with the idea of going around as a shirtless member of the underworld. Screw this, I thought, as I tore the devil horns from my head. I ain't going down without a fight.
But as I proceeded to rip the tail from where it had been sewn into my jeans, the door slammed open. A tall, suave man in an expensive looking tux strutted in. He grabbed me by the wrist, pulled me to my feet, and said in a voice accented with French descent, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
My heart pounded in alarm as I smelled the pot on his breath and felt him twist my wrist the wrong way, and I knew I shouldn't piss him off even more, but for some reason my still foggy brain decided to spit in his face.
He recoiled with a hiss of "Sacre bleu!" before letting me go and wiping his face. He shot me the worst kill-you-dead look I'd ever seen, and for a second I thought he was going to kill me dead. But as soon as the look appeared, it disappeared.
"Boss told me not to damage the merchandise, but if I have to, don't think I will hesitate," he snarled at me, his mustache twitching with every word. I said nothing, but stared back at him as defensively as one could when they felt on the verge of passing out. Still, I hated the way he was talking to me as if I was just a toy. And he the way he said it. "Don't damage the merchandise," said the store clerk to the clumsy little boy.
"Put this back on," he Frenched at me before shoving the devil horns headband back into my hands. Reluctantly I obeyed, feeling the last drops of my dignity melt away with my syrupy brain cells. He then proceeded to take out a walkie-talkie looking thing from his breast pocket, before hissing into it, "George, I have him ready."
Ready for what, my brain asked warily as I heard the reply crackle into the air. "Good. Send him out right away. The bidders are anxious to see him."
Bidders?
An auction?
Slowly it came together. I was dressed up all pretty like a Christmas present for a reason.
And one of the bidders out there would be taking me home tonight.

So yeah, there it is. And I know some of you are a pinch confused about the whole porn star deal, but I promise, that will be explained in the next and final chapter. :) Thank you for all your support, points, and just for being positively fabulous. xoxoKat