"Less Then Human: Screw the Lie"

Author: Mystic25 (yellowrubberduck31@hotmail.com)
Summary: Sequel to "Return to Innocence" Cree came home four months ago to the life she left behind. She soon realizes that she was one of the only lucky. And keeping silent about the ones who didn't have fate step in for them is not an option anymore.

Rating: R for graphic violence, nudity, sexual situations and language. If you're underage I can't stop you from reading this, but remember you were warned here about what you were getting into.

A/N: I'm back from my hiatus. I needed time to think up a good sequel. So I watched a lot of TV, (heh poor me huh?) read books wrote other fan fic and here I am. I didn't have a good GOOD idea for the sequel so I didn't want to rush it. But I'm researching for a sociology paper again (this time in college) on sexual slavery, and found so much new information (new to me at least) that I wanted to get back to writing on this fic. I took the title from a quote I think is very thought provoking from "7th Heaven" talking about viewing women as objects

A/N #2: Like it was mentioned in the summary this story is set three months after "Return to Innocence" All new characters I created in RTI (the main ones I mean) will come back. So Ming and Peter and Jade will be back. Ty as well; his namesake (Ty Pennington, carpenter from "Trading Spaces") keeps throwing ideas into my head at how to work MY Ty's character (since Pennington is incredibly sexy and funny, sweet and smart all rolled into one very nicely shaped man) I use that as a base for Cree's boyfriend. Max and Logan's relationship..it will grow from before. Don't know if wedding bells will be mentioned, hafta see how it goes. Cause sometimes people have this complete committing thing and they never tie the knot. Good (fictional) example is Mulder and Scully from the X Files, even after season nine had them have a kid together, they didn't run off and get married..they were just who they were, two people who love and respect each other. If you don't get marriage for M/L here, I'll save you a big chunk of marital bliss in "Choices" chapters

DEDICATIONS: To Tab for all her support and bringin' the luv on "Return to Innocence", trusting me enough to beta her work:) and just being there when I needed someone to bounce ideas off of, or talk about absolutely nothing. Luv ya girl.

And to her friend, who I've never met, who lived this hell for real, who is a reason I write this, to break the code of silent abuse.


"Outside the Comfort Zone"

March 12, 2021
(Three Months After "Return to Innocence")

10:30 PM
The metal door opened, sending shock waves of noise through the night air. Three brown rats were scattered from the entranceway at the sound of the noise.

A police force quality maglight's beam cut through the darkness, shining on the rats, the dirt, and everywhere in between.

Inside the small space fifteen girls were jammed together like over OVER packed sardines. Each one was dressed in skin tight show all dresses that even street walkers would find too hoochy. High wrap around stiletto heals adorned all their bare legs and feet in all colors of the rainbow. Some sat on crates, others found an almost magician trick way to sit down without having their tiny skirt bare all to the night air.

The bearer of the flashlight quickly shut the door, pointing the beam at them like a laser pointer. He started shouting at them.

(Spoken in Mandarin Chinese)

"On your feet you bitches!" the light hit each girl's face "You're going out of the city! Move or I'll throw you in the harbor as buoys!" he forcefully grabbed several of the girls, shoving and kicking them to the door.

*Mother mother, there's to many of you cryin'
Oh brother brother brother
There's far to many of you dyin'
You know we got to find a way
To find some lovin' here today

Baracades can't block our way
Don't punish me with brutality
Talk to me so you can see
Oh what's goin' on
What's goin on.*

He loaded all the girls into a fishing boat tied to a loading dock at the end of a peer. They scrambled inside light frightened deer caught in the cross hairs of a hunter's .22 caliber rifle. After the last one was shoved inside the tiny room where even sardines wouldn't be comfortable, the large wooden door that led down to the cargo bin was closed shut.

The motor coughed and spat like a pissed off cat, and finally chugged to a start. The men silently navigated down the waterway, paying attention to the Chinese police boats stationed at the various loading docks and plane runways. Though the men inside weren't too worried about the police.
They slowed down fifty minutes later coming to a halt at a large wooden dock that surrounded an empty runway except for a single plane and two enormous piano crates on the landing strip.

Two police officials were on night duty there, but as soon as the navigator of the boat came out he saw that it had been taken care of. A man on the dock was busy handing each officer two envelopes of cash each and a three cartons of cigarettes.

The girls were dragged out one by one onto the deck. The cool night air of Chinese spring blew past and sent goose bumps through skin that their clothes barely even covered up.

The inside man shinned his flashlight into the group of women who were trying to huddle together to keep warm.

(Spoken in Mandarin throughout) "How many you got?"

"Fifteen" one of the nameless men who had brought the girls here answered. He looked at the two large crates, his expression changing to anger "There are no holes! How the fuck do you expect to get them there alive if they can't breathe?"

The other man pulled a cocked Sig Sauer P299 from the waste band of his pants and blasted a dozen holes through the word "Fragile" written on the boxes. The holes were still smoking when he replaced the gun, and some of the woman backed away from the noise.

The other man gave no praise for this, and turned to the women "Get in! Now! Move it!" he had a sig as well and waved it at them to prevent any disobedience.

He opened the crates and pushed them inside like it was shelter from a storm. Those that were reluctant he threw inside, landing them against the backs of the others already there.

He went around to close the one large door that was on hinges.

"Wait!" one of the cop's voice stopped him "How about one for the sergeant?"

"They're not free" the man answered back

"If you don't want a report on this to officials you might want to reconsider that"

The man looked at him hard. He reached inside and yanked out one woman in a pink shimmery tube dress.

"No!" some of the women were screaming. They had been thrust into a kind of family and they knew each other by the rare moments they got to talk when they were being shuffled around.

"Please!" the woman who was thrown to the cop was begging them to let her leave with the others "Don't make me stay here!" being together was the only thing that kept many alive. It meant that they were still "good" They were piss scared of being separated to other rings and houses where they would be the "old trash" and would most likely be fucked to death by strangers or shot by the pimps because they were 'too used over'

The cop back handed her in the mouth "Shut up you bitch!"

She buckled at the hit, and grabbed at her the blood forming on her lip.

"Ask him where my babies are!" a nameless woman shouted at her. Her children had been kidnapped from her by these men two days after they found her coming out of a local bar alone. One jumped her, raped her, knocked her out with a nightstick and brought her to the brothel. Her children, two small boys had been brought there, shown right in front of her face. She tried to get to them but they beat her down and dragged them away, the boys screaming for her the entire time. She never saw them again. Her pimp threatened her that if she ever tried to escape or tell anyone about where she was he would take her children and shoot their faces off. She begged him to tell her where they were, but he would play the cruelest game with her and only let her know "they're alive, and if you don't do EXCATLY what I want they won't stay that way"

"I will!" the woman in the pink dress shouted as the doors of the crates were shut sealing in their human cargo.

"I told you to shut up!" the cop backhanded her again and dragged her to his patrol car to make use of her.

He ripped her clothes off in the back seat and undid his pants. He slammed her like an animal, only there for his quick itch hump. His partner kept watch the entire time

He left her lying in the back of the patrol car, her dress torn down the middle leaving her lower half bare. He handcuffed one of her wrists to the hold built into the door of patrol cruises to lock a criminal in with handcuffs.

He zipped up his pants, grabbing her hair with a free hand "Don't try running away, or I'll make it so no one will ever believe what you tell them" He threw her back down onto the seat and closed the door.

She lay there in a pool of his seamen on her crotch and heard the car door slam and the motor start.


The flatbed truck meandered its way through the dark roads, a pass from the sector police for clearance into the city stuck on the windshield. On the flatbed itself large wooden piano boxes rested on it, held down by four chains linked to the bed's side.

The truck finally stopped next to an old warehouse.

Men came out and quickly used a lift fork to lower the crate inside the warehouse.

The man in the truck was given a stack of bills. The driver looked at the American currency for a moment, pocketing it in his denim jacket. After the crates were off the flatbed he turned and left.

"See what we have" one of the men broke the padlock and the doors swung open.

The women inside squinted at the light; their eyes hypersensitive to it for being held in the dark for over a day. They were rumpled, sleep deprived since the constant movement of the crate kept sleep from ever happening. The crate smelled of urine, where some women relieved themselves during the ride and of blood from those who started their cycle and had no way of containing it.

Each one was yanked out.

"Damn, hoe's stink" the man waved his hand in the air to ward off the foul smell. He took a water hose from the ground and turned it on, spraying them all.

The women screamed, Seattle was still cold in March and being wet made it worse.

"Shut up!" the man pointed a gun at them, and they fell silent. "Now get back there!" he pointed to the vast emptiness of the warehouse, where a few women were already lined up. He shouted at them the only Chinese words he knew "Get back! Get back!"

The women scurried back to the others. They were all sitting down, some chained by an ankle to a bedpost. Like them, these women were also dressed in almost nothing with over done lips and bright purple and brown eyelids.

There were no more chairs so they all sat in the stagnant puddles of water that covered the floor. Seamen oozed out of used condoms standing in some of the puddles mixing one liquid with another.

The man dropped the hose and came around to these "new arrivals" He had customers already lined up, and he turned to them.

"Whose in the mood for Chinese?"


Song used in this chapter: "What's goin' on?" WTC Tribute