Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61101 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61101 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“Should I?” He leans his elbows on the desk, still acting as if he’s in charge, but I know better and can only smile.
“Here you go, little raindrop,” Dante hands me the blade, one I’ve used many times before.
When Petrov sees the weapon, he pushes to his feet, but Dante quickly moves around the desk, and it doesn’t take him long to subdue our next victim.
“What the fuck is this?” Petrov has been living in London for a number of years now, but his thick, Russian accent is still strong.
“I’ve come to show you just how much I’ve changed. I want you to see who I became once you were done with me and sold me off to one of your friends.”
For a long moment, he doesn’t flinch at my words. But as I step closer and lean in, I see the recognition on his face. He knows who I am. There isn’t a day goes by that I don’t remember him. And I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten me.
I was his slave for two long, excruciating years.
“Don’t you fucking cry, little one,” he orders as he kicks me in the ribs.
The cold has already made my body brittle. I can’t think straight, because I’m starving. The only things on my mind are warmth and food.
I hear the clink of his belt before I see the glint of its buckle in the light. The room is usually dark when I sit alone, but now he’s here, the faint, red glow from the overhanging bulb reminds me of where I truly am. I’m in Hell.
“This is for your own good. You need to learn to behave, like all those who came before you.”
I can’t place his accent. I’ve been shipped off to so many different countries I could be anywhere in the world right now.
“Please, just let me be,” I beg, even though I know it’s no use.
“They told me the younger the better when I bought you. Let’s see if it’s true. On your fucking knees.” His deep voice booms in the small room, and it vibrates through me.
I’m not entirely sure how old I am. I don’t know how many years have passed since I was first sold, but I got my period last month. That didn’t go down too well with my previous owner, and it brought me here, to my new master.
I shift quickly onto my knees before he hits me or kicks me again. One thing I’ve learned is to obey when they shout out orders. If I don’t, then even more pain will be inflicted on me.
“Open your pretty mouth. Let’s see how much you can take.”
He doesn’t wait for me to do as he says. Instead, he grips my cheeks between his thumb and forefinger and forces my mouth to pop open. My jaw aches from the harsh hold he has on me, but I can’t fight him.
Then he does what most men do—he shoves his flaccid cock into my mouth, causing me to retch at the smell coming off him. He’s dressed in a fancy suit and looks like he has a lot of money. He must be rich if he’s friends with my last master. He might not look dirty, but he doesn’t smell good at all.
He forces himself deeper and deeper until the air I’m fighting for is non-existent. I want to puke, but I’ve been trained not to. ‘Breathe through your nose or I’ll break it’ are the words I’ve learned to obey.
“You’re the little whore who came to me with the promise of your obedience,” his voice snaps me out of the memory, and I look down at him. I can’t believe he’s still so smug when I’m the one holding the weapon and in control.
I place my knife down on his desk, swapping it for his stapler. It’s a large one, perfect for what I have in mind.
Glancing at the monster in front of me, I smile.
“Open your pretty mouth. Let’s see how much you can take.” I mimic his words, and his eyes widen in shock.
There’s only a tiny hint of fear, but it’s there. I can’t help but smile when he shakes his head.
“Get the fuck out of my office,” he bellows his order, and his voice reverberates through me. It’s a reminder of why I’m here.
“You don’t get to give the orders anymore,” I tell him before pinching his face and forcing his mouth to pop open, just like he did to mine, all those years ago. When it’s wide enough, I shove the stapler in between his gaping lips. “You know how to do it,” I tease playfully, but my voice is far from light and happy. “Breathe through your fucking nose or I’ll break it.”
Dante’s hold on Petrov tightens as his body shudders from my torture. But this is nothing. I can’t wait to show him just how much he hurt me. I shove the stapler deeper down his throat until I see his eyes roll back in his head.