Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“What do you say when addressed?”
“Yes, sir. No, sir.”
I watch him nod from my peripheral vision, even with my head bowed.
“Keep your eyes cast down and do as you’re told,” he reminds me. I won’t forget. It’s been beaten into me too many times for me to forget my place.
There are no exits here. I haven’t seen the light of day in so long, I don’t know how my eyes would even adjust. It seems our buyers prefer pasty white women, since we never see sunlight. I remember there’s a thing called sunlight… but I can’t remember how it looks, or how it feels. Just that it is. Like me.
This is the little I’ve surmised from the bits and pieces of conversations I’ve overheard: I’m being kept longer than the others for an elite auction, because I’m a virgin. I don’t want to remember the testing they put me through to prove my virginity. It was a violation just short of actual rape itself. I’ve chosen to block that from my mind.
“Sit.” He yanks the chains on my wrists and makes me sit in a padded chair in front of a desk.
The voice that addresses me is a new one, wholly unfamiliar. Scratchy, like he’s smoked cigars since infancy, and utterly devoid of human emotion.
“On your knees, woman.”
I fall to my knees in front of the desk, my eyes still cast on the carpet in front of me. My wrists are secured behind my back in cuffs.
“Eyes to me.”
I shiver at the unexpected command. I know that raising my eyes will get me beaten, unless it’s a direct command, and this is a direct command. Holding my breath, I look up. Stunning blue eyes remind me of the man I once knew, but it’s the only resemblance. This man is smaller, thinner, and swarthy. He’s clean shaven with a strong, authoritative look about him, inciting respect from the men around him. I wonder who he is.
“I see you’ve been well-trained,” he says coldly, his lips pressed thin as he rakes his eyes over me. I’m dressed in a simple sheath, the only garment we’re allowed during grooming.
“Yes, sir,” I say quietly. I don’t recognize my voice. Long ago, I had fire in me, but the fire was quenched. My voice is quiet and subdued. Lifeless.
“Do you know why you’ve been brought here, woman?”
I shake my head. “No, sir.”
Leaning back in his chair, he places the very tips of his fingers together and nods.
“We’ve prepared and saved you for the virgin auction,” he says with a smile, standing at his desk and wandering over to me. To my surprise, he falls to one knee before me. Our keepers never kneel.
Placing one finger under my chin, he holds my gaze. “And you are a pretty little thing. I would take you as my own, but I have too much work to do.” I inwardly cower at the thought of being his. There’s something in his eyes that warns me he is an exacting master. Something cruel.
He speaks softly, as if to himself. “I can’t devote myself to your training the way I’d like to, not for some time yet. I have too much work to do.” He releases my chin and strokes my hair. “But it’s a shame. You would make a beautiful slave.”
My stomach clenches. Though I’ve heard similar words before, his musings make my skin crawl. I’ve been taught to obey. I’ve been taught to submit. But does anyone ever get used to complete subjugation?
I swallow, not sure if I’m required to respond to his thoughts or not. I watch as he gets to his feet and stretches his back, then cracks his knuckles.
“She’s fully prepared for the next auction?” he asks someone who stands at the back of the room.
“Fully, sir.”
“You have the paperwork certifying her virginity?”
“Certainly, sir.”
“Very well. Bring her with the rest being moved.”
Where are we going?
He turns his back to me, effectively dismissing me. I stifle a whimper when I’m drawn to my feet by guards on either side, their hands on my elbows biting into my skin.
“And do not harm her,” the man says sharply, causing the guards to gentle their touches. “I want no mark on her when she’s brought to auction. If she disobeys an instruction, bring her to me.” He smiles, a slow, sadistic half-smile that makes nausea swirl in my belly. “If she disobeys, I’ll find a means to punish her without leaving a mark.”
He looks as if he wants me to earn punishment. They all do. They enjoy inflicting pain.
But I won’t. I know better.
Somewhere, in the dimmest part of my mind, a ray of hope shines. But before I can form a thought… before I can grasp the memory of something I can do, something that feels like the word free… the thought is gone, and I’m walking in line between the guards.