Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
My mind drifts to the seven-foot bouncers outside the door. I know he is right. There is no way out now. I sink back into the chair and let out a shaky breath.
“So I’ll be like passed out for most of it?”
“No, the toxin we are giving you won’t alter your mind. You will be wide awake and feel everything like normal, but your body will be paralyzed.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
I stare at Lucian, almost waiting for him to laugh and tell me this was a joke. Only he isn’t smiling. He is giving me time to process, I think, because for a minute, he says nothing. He simply looks at me with a somewhat pitiful expression.
“Are you ready?” He breaks the eerie silence.
I can’t make my tongue work, so I nod instead.
Lucian claps his hands together. “Great, go ahead and step outside. My staff will take you to the room your buyer has picked and give you further instructions.”
I nod again, before forcing my body to push up into a standing position. On shaky legs, I make my way out of the office without another word. What else is there to say?
One of the giant bouncers motions for me to follow him. He starts walking down the hallway, and I tag along like a lost little puppy. He leads me down a dark staircase, and I’m surprised that my legs are still carrying my weight since I feel like my feet weigh a thousand pounds.
The bouncer suddenly stops, and I almost run into him. “This is your room,” he says gruffly, opening the door for me.
I can’t bring myself to thank him or even force a smile. This doesn’t seem like the time for pleasantries, anyway. I walk into the well-lit room, my eyes bouncing from corner to corner, scanning the space for anything that could hurt me.
The room is simple, almost bare, besides a large king-sized bed in the center of it. The walls are gray, the ceiling black, and the floor dark red. There is a large shelving unit on the right side of the room, filled with an array of sex toys and bottles of what I assume is lube.
I gulp at the sight. There is a whole shelf with butt plugs, one of them so large I think it would tear me apart.
“Your buyer wants you naked on the bed,” the bouncer tells me with a bored tone. “The nurse will be right in with your shot.”
I can’t even muster up a nod anymore.
“You can hang your clothes up here,” he points at a coat rack on the wall next to the door.
I take another step into the room and turn around to look at the bouncer. I wait for him to leave so I can get undressed, but the only move he makes is to lean back against the doorframe.
“I’m not leaving, if that’s what you are thinking.” He shrugs. “Don’t worry, you have nothing I haven’t seen today, darling.”
Humiliation settles in my gut as I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head. I hang the shirt up on the rack and slip out of my shoes before unbuttoning my jeans and pushing them down my legs.
The bouncer’s eyes rake down my body, stopping at the scarred skin on my thighs. I guess I have something he hasn’t seen after all.
Ignoring his gaze, I make quick work of my underwear, hanging everything up before I quickly scurry over to the bed. There is no blanket or pillows on the black sheet covered mattress. I climb onto the bare bed and lie down in the center with my arms by my sides. The silky sheet is cool on my skin as I try to relax my already sore muscles.
I stare at the black ceiling for a few minutes until the sound of approaching footsteps has me looking at the door. The bouncer is still leaning against the doorframe, looking at me, when a woman in a black dress squeezes by him to get inside the room.
“Hi Maya, I’m Emily, and I’ll be your nurse today,” she introduces herself to me like we are at a doctor’s office for a routine checkup. Her red lips pull into a big fake smile, showing her pearl white teeth to me.
She comes to stand at the edge of the bed and puts a small black case on the mattress next to me. She opens the case, and my eyes fall on three liquid filled syringes.
“We are starting with one, which should last about an hour. I might come and administer a second dose while you are in session. Depending on what the buyer wants,” she explains, like she is running through a shopping list.
Emily pulls a pair of gloves from her pocket, along with a little square packet. She puts on the gloves before opening the disinfectant wipe to clean my arm with. The wipe is cold on my skin, but I don’t react. I’m too busy fighting the fear threatening to overtake my body.