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Anticipation clawed at me, a beast hungry for what was to come. There was no backing down now. No mercy left to give. Only the raw, unyielding force of what had to be done.
Tomorrow would bring pain and darkness. But in the midst of it all, there was something undeniable—some twisted desire that refused to be ignored.
And the part of me that was still alive... craved it.
Ten: Ella
My limbs felt heavy as I awoke, my mind foggy with remnants of nightmares I couldn't quite escape. The door creaked open and Chris stood there, a silhouette against the muted glow of the corridor.
"Morning, sunshine," he grunted, pushing a plastic cup into my hands. I peered inside—green sludge. My stomach churned at the thought of food, but I sipped at it anyway, grimacing at the bitter kale assaulting my taste buds.
"Let's go," he ordered. No 'please', no warmth, just the hard edge of command. I followed him down a maze of hallways, each step echoing, until we reached the heavy metal door.
My breath hitched as it swung open, revealing the sex dungeon. My eyes darted around, taking in the assortment he had picked out for today.
"Fuck," I whispered under my breath, my heart pounding. An anal hook gleamed ominously on a tray alongside nipple clamps, electroshock needles, and a candle, its wax pooled and solidified at the base.
"Scared?" Chris's lips twitched in a semblance of a smile.
"Terrified," I admitted, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me crumble.
"Good." He prowled closer, circling me slowly. "Fear keeps you sharp."
"I won't do it," I declared, trying to sound braver than I felt. My hands balled into fists at my sides, defying him, defying this whole twisted situation. Yet, even through my fear, something more potent surfaced. Desire.
"Thought you might say that." His laugh was dark, devoid of humor. "But here's the thing—you don't have a choice."
"Like hell I don't," I spat back, meeting those eyes so blue they stole my breath. "I'm not some doll for you to play with, Charming."
"Name's fitting, don't you think?" Chris circled me, tracing a finger down my arm. Goosebumps rose despite the humidity clinging to the room. "I charm, I conquer. That's how this game works."
"Fuck your game," I shot back, jerking away from his touch. My skin flushed where he'd made contact. God, this cat and mouse was becoming our sick foreplay. My panties were soaked.
"Feisty," he murmured, leaning in so close I could feel his breath on my neck. "Makes it all the more fun breaking you in."
"Go to hell," I hissed, even as my body betrayed me, leaning ever so slightly into his space.
"Already there, sweetheart." His chuckle rumbled deep in his chest, and for a moment, I glimpsed the devil behind his hard stare. "And so are you."
"Never." I dug deep, summoning every ounce of defiance I had left. "You can't make me submit."
"We'll see about that."
"Bring it on," I challenged, though my insides twisted and churned.
His gaze held mine, hardly blinking, and it threatened to drown my defiance. I stood there, my posture rigid, unwilling to let my guard down, even as the room suddenly felt claustrophobic.
"Listen, Ella," his voice broke through the tension, "I'm not doing this for shits and giggles. Gustov? That fucker won't show you an ounce of mercy."
I flinched. My buyer. His name's Gustov. THE Gustov. The Butcher, as he's called in hushed whispers. My eyes stung, betraying the bravado I'd mustered. The walls I'd built crumbled under the weight of reality. Now I understand why the last princess didn't make it out alive. And why I had to be trained for him. Jesus, fuck. I wasn't going to make it out of here alive.
"Damn it." A tear escaped, carving a hot path down my cheek. "I hate this. I hate you."
"You should. Let that hate burn until it's all you feel. Right now, I'm your best bet at survival. And I need you to survive." He moved closer, his fingers brushing against mine, sending a jolt through my system. "Tell me what you want to try first."
One look at the instruments of torment, and I felt bile rise in my throat. But something about the anal hook called out to me—a perverse curiosity in the midst of fear. My lips parted, the words choking me. "The hook."
"Good girl." His approval, though both wanted and unwanted, sparked a strange warmth deep inside me. "Undress."
