He runs a comb through my hair. It’s full of knots, and snags several times on the wide plastic prongs, but he’s surprisingly gentle. Afterward, he pours some kind of oil into his hands and rubs my aching limbs. I try not to flinch as he kneads my breasts and slides his hands between my aching thighs and teases me again by massaging my swollen sex.
I don’t know if I have a boyfriend, or a husband, but it feels as if this is something my body has been deprived of for a long time. So even though I hate myself, I lean back against his chest and allow him to stroke me as he whispers, “Good girl. That’s it, Pet. Spread your legs for me.”
I do as he asks, and shudder as his fingers slowly enter my orifice. He moves them inside me in slow circles, as if by exploring the inside of me he might learn my secrets. If I have secrets, I don’t remember them, but I’m certain I wouldn’t divulge them to him. When the pads of his fingers slide across my front wall, my knees buckle. He chuckles. It’s low, and as terrifying as it is erotic.
“Not a virgin, then.” He sounds disappointed.
Am I a virgin? Would I even know? Would he? It didn’t hurt when he put his fingers inside me. It felt good. My cheeks flame red with embarrassment.
“Don’t worry, Pet. If anything, it’ll make your training easier. You might not remember up in here”—he taps my skull gently—“what it feels like to be thoroughly fucked, but your body remembers. But judging by the way I almost had you in two seconds in the bath back there, I’m going to go out on a limb and say it’s been a while since that pretty little cunt has been fucked.”
All the air leaves my lungs as he pinches my nipples mercilessly hard. “Stop. Please I’ll do whatever you want, just please don’t hurt me.”
“I have to hurt you, little one. The only way I can truly break you is to hurt you first.”
“No, please?” I sob.
He releases my nipples, and I can’t help the gasp as the blood rushes back into my bruised and sensitive flesh. He rubs them, kneading my breasts heavily with his hands. “Come. It’s time to eat.”
“Please just let me go.”
His eyes turn impossibly dark with anger. “Fuck, you’re like a broken record. Let’s get this out of the way right now, shall we? You’re mine. You’re not going anywhere. You don’t leave this house unless I say so.”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
“Pet, there’s no one to tell. It’s just you and me here, and you can’t reason with a monster.” He covers my eyes again with the blindfold, securing it in place. Then he takes a step back—at least that’s what I think he’s doing, though I can’t be sure. The air stirs around us, and the door clicks open with another shrill beep.
“Come, Pet.” His voice is loud in the quiet building, and on shaking legs I turn and take a step toward him, because I don’t see what other choice I have.I could run. I could charge him and push him over, get my blindfold off and make a run for it.
Yes.
I have to. It’s the only way I’ll make it out of here alive. I’ll let him kill me before I ever let him fuck me.
I take a tentative step forward, and then I charge. I slam into his body, the two of us go down, and I manage to elbow him in what I think is the throat and drive my weight into his Adam’s apple. He chokes, and I bolt. Scrambling to my feet, I yank off the blindfold and run.
The hall is long and dark, with peeling wallpaper. I pass several doors. My heart lurches. What if there are more girls, like me? What if every room here is filled with innocent girls? I can’t stop, though. I have to get out of here.
I hear a door opening, and head for the flood of light around the corner, but then it’s gone. The hall is darker than before, and I collide with a hard body.
“Help!” I gasp, but I’m out of breath. Two strong arms come around me, and when I squirm free I stare up into the face of the man who just bathed me. No! It can’t be. He—I just left him on the floor.
But that’s not right. This man is in a suit. A brother then? Or twins?
He doesn’t say anything, but the ire in his gaze says it for him. If the other man was a psychopath, this man is a monster, or some kind of malevolent god. I’ve never seen such disdain and hatred. He grips my forearm painfully and roars, “Fuck! Ares!”
“Ares,” I murmur, and he looks down at me, his expression even more livid than before. His hand wraps around my throat, lifting me off the ground and slamming me against the wall. Air is torn from my lungs. They scream from the abuse. I claw and scratch at his fingers. There’s no mercy in his gaze, no compassion—nothing human at all.
“Let her go!” my captor, Ares, says.
“Looks like you already did that for us, Brother,” he says through his teeth. My lungs burn.My lungs burn. I’m light-headed, probably seconds away from my last moments on Earth.
“She attacked me. I wasn’t prepared for it. Put the girl down.”
“She knows your name, Brother.”
“And whose fault is that?” Ares roars and steps toward the man holding me. He shoves him, my captor lets go, and I topple to the ground, gasping for air that a moment ago I didn’t think I’d ever feel again.
They grapple, and I try crawling away, but I don’t have the energy or the breath to spare. I’m no longer choking, but I may die here anyway—naked, in a hallway with scratched floorboards and peeling wallpaper, while two monsters fight over who gets to keep me.