They came into the room they kept me in. It’d only been a few days of being trapped there, feeling helpless and weak, trying to recover from the beating he gave me. The three of them came into the room and left the door wide open as they stalked to my bed. I knew what they were going to do. I rock harder, remembering the fear. I fucking bolted. I just kept thinking, Please don't let them catch me.
They can never catch me. Never. I had to do everything I could to escape that hell. But I had no one. Not a single soul to run to. My mother was everyone and everything to me. But she’d been dead for nearly a year. I ran to her grave and prayed for a sign. That’s when the cops showed up, sirens blaring. I thanked my mom every day.
I thought she’d saved me like she always did.
But they did catch me.
Only they didn’t come after me directly like I thought they would. They sent someone else.
I have no clue how long it’s been. I don’t know what he’s doing. Or what this training is going to be like when he gets back. I have absolutely no control in any of it either, and I don’t like it. I tug at the hem of my nightgown, wishing it were longer so I could cover myself up more. My knees are drawn up to my chest, and I rest my head on them as I consider my next step.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what my options are. He said he’d give me my life and everything I needed. I want to believe that’s true, but what's the catch? I know his intentions aren’t pure. And I’m certain his terms aren’t negotiable.
I’m eager to hear what he has to say though. I want to know what I’ve gotten myself into. That way I can figure out how to get the fuck out of here.
My back is killing me, so I keep up my rocking. It feels better than just sitting still for however fucking long it’s been. I’d get up and stretch or do yoga, but I don't want to be standing when he walks in. I want to be ready.
Well, as ready as I can be.
I close my eyes and remember his words. An office, my books. How much does he know about me? He’s been watching me, obviously. I wonder if there were signs I missed. Red flags I should have seen, but didn’t.
The only time I ever felt that things were off was last night. That was the only chance I had. I should have gotten into my car and driven away. I should have listened to my gut.
But I didn’t.
I’ve never felt so fucking helpless. Not when I was with Lorenzo. Not when I was taken by those fucking Cassanos. Not even when I went to the police and they told me I’d have to leave my old life behind forever. Never. Because there was always hope. But now, I only have his word. And I don’t trust him.
For all I know, he has a bet going with someone. How long would it take him to get into my pants willingly? And then boom. He’ll kill me. Or he’ll let someone else in here to have a go at me. How the fuck would I know? I don’t know shit. And it’s not like he’s offering up any information. He’s just playing this game with me.
In all the books I’ve read, there’s been some sort of contract, or list. Terms. Like he said before.
That always happens first.
But he’s playing with me. Testing me. And as far as I’m concerned, he’s winning.
My body betrayed me, and I gave into the weakness. I was practically ready to cum on his lap. If he’d flipped me over and put his mouth on my clit rather than whispering in my ear, shit. I don’t know what I would have done. I was so weak. So desperate.
It’s pathetic. I’m pathetic.
But what real choice do I have? I can fight his game, or I can play along. I can stay here and let him toy with me, or I can use him to get out of here.
Use him.
I like that idea. It almost makes the desire for him to touch me feel justified. That giving in and caving to his touch is alright. I’m merely playing into his hand because it’s what I have to do.
As if hearing my thoughts, Anthony opens the door.
My breath stills in my lungs as the loud click echoes off the walls.
I make a promise to myself. I’ll do whatever I have to do to get the fuck out of this room. I need to see if I can trust his word at least.
Just as I make that promise to myself, I see what he’s pulling behind him. It’s a large bench with leather shackles. Fuck! Tears prick my eyes.
I bury my head in my knees and just fucking cry. He’s going to chain me to the bench. He’s going to fuck me.
A wretched sob heaves through my chest.
I shake my head, and that’s when I hear his footsteps. But I don’t back away. I have no options. What choice do I have?
Anthony
I turn around as soon as I hear her crying.
Fuck. I wanted to shock her, but I didn’t think she’d cry.
She had so much fight in her when I left her. I don’t know what happened while I was gone. I know that being alone for hours can be torturous when you have nothing. No noise but the sounds you make, nothing to touch but yourself and the walls and floor.
But I didn’t think it would affect her like this.
“Kitten,” I begin as I crouch down next to her, although I keep my distance. She could be playing me for a fool. Waiting for me to comfort her so she can strike. I’m certain I picked up the large chunks of the plate. There were only three or four of them. But maybe she found a smaller piece and she’s planning to stab the shit out of me with it. She doesn’t trust me, and I sure as fuck don’t trust her.
I didn’t watch her in the monitor. I was driving myself crazy watching her do nothing. More than anything seeing her like that pissed me off, because all I wanted to do was to go to her. But she’s being punished.
This is a part of her punishment.
“Yes, Anthony,” she answers in a strangled voice. She raises her head with tears staining her reddened cheeks. I’m surprised she answered. She wipes the tears from her face and I see she doesn’t have anything in her hands. She’s not armed, and she’s not trying to fight me. She’s just genuinely upset.
“Why are you crying?” I ask her.
“Because I give up. I’ll let you do whatever you want. I just want this to end.” My heart stops in my chest. That’s not at all what I expected, and so far she’s done everything I thought she would.
I haven’t broken her yet. But maybe I've taken away her hope of getting out of here unless she obeys.
“And that makes you sad?” I ask to clarify. “You’re upset that you’re giving me control?” Truthfully though, she never had any control. Maybe over her own actions, but not at all over the situation. She’s a strong woman. I guess that very realization could be troubling her.
She takes in a small gasp and shakes her head. “Of course I’m upset about that. Normal people don’t do this.”
Although I appreciate her honesty, that fucking attitude is going to be the first thing I correct.
“Watch your mouth, kitten.” She looks up at me with nothing in her eyes.
“Yes, Anthony. I’m sorry, sir.” She says the words without a hint of sarcasm in her voice. And it’s disappointing. I’m surprised by my reaction to it.
“Could I know the terms, please? Before you chain me?” she asks in a flat voice. It’s unsettling how much I don’t like it.