It was the sharp smell of alcohol that pulled her from oblivion. Her head felt like an overfilled balloon, tight and floaty. She hadn’t felt this shitty in a long time.

Opening her eyes, she closed them again with a groan as the harsh light stung her eyes and nausea assaulted her. It took a number of long minutes before she could open her eyes again without being hit with dizziness.

Not that it cleared her thinking much. She blinked a few times thinking that would help, but the same unfamiliar sight greeted her when she chanced another glance from behind the safety of her eyelids.

As if from a distance, she evaluated her surroundings. A stark white ceiling looked down at her and cold metal pressed against her back. A single naked bulb swung back and forth. She moved her eyes, noticing gray metal counters lining the walls and a door opposite where she lay. She was in a morgue, as dead as the bodies likely hidden in the containers. This was the makings of a horror movie or her worst nightmares.

Hayley wanted to laugh. It was a joke, because the alternative was just too much for her to contemplate.

The tightening of her nipples and a rush of goosebumps brought her to a true awareness of her nudity. A glance down her body showed her body stretched out. Arms strapped out down to her sides, legs spread to the point they ached. Facing the door, she was open to the view of whomever walked in.

She tried sitting up, but realized the straps ran from neck to ankle – across her stomach, over her thighs, from wrist to ankle. She was held down ready for sacrifice, and no amount of struggling loosened the bindings that cut into her skin. Hayley was rapidly losing her cool as terror mounted.

Through her useless struggles, the sound of keys jangling reached her ears. Her heart thundered and she strained against the leather in a last-ditch attempt to free herself. Her stomach dipped when the door swung into the room and she wondered if she’d vomit. A tall man entered the room and everything froze inside her.

She watched as he paused at the door, before closing it and walking leisurely to her side.

When he was close enough to touch, she couldn’t help shrinking back from him in spite of her promise not to. Icy blue eyes burned into hers. His generous mouth tipped up in a smile as though he approved of her fear.

Hayley gathered herself as best she could to deal with him. She tried to assess him with the same detached coolness that he used to gaze at her naked body. Broad and lean, he had the body of a swimmer.

No, he wasn’t ugly; not with his tan skin and wide full lips, but the way he looked at her made him the scariest man she’d ever encountered. Like he’d cut her up and eat her just to know the taste of her insides.

Examining her closely, he seemed to search for something in her face. His hands stayed buried in his navy dress pants, but his eyes still touched her deeply, violated her to the core.

“Hayley, I’m pleased you’re finally awake.” The words were soft, deceptive in the way they tried to caress her ears.

“How–” She stopped herself from asking. It didn’t matter how he knew her name. He was fucked up enough to snatch her so knowing her name was small in her long list of problems.

His smile broadened and his eyes darkened as he stared down at her. “Your manager was kind enough to supply it for me the first time we met. He spoke a lot about your potential on numerous occasions after that.”

She grimaced. Her life was a series of unfortunate events so this particular connection shouldn’t have surprised her. But there she was wondering why she’d become the victim again when she had just gained her freedom.

That wave of despair was threatening to swamp her. Hayley wasn’t sure anything was going to pull her back once she went under so she swallowed down the bile in her throat and steeled herself for the answer to her next question.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

“Why, of course.” He shrugged as though she should’ve known.

Haley reached for something to talk reason into him, “What is your name?”

“You may call me Master and I will call you pet.” He flicked her nipple hard. “This will be difficult for you at first, the pain, but I’ll show you. You’ll come to like it, pet. Promise.”

What kind of sick son of a bitch was she dealing with here? She wasn’t sure from the glint in his eyes she could talk him out of this, but she had to try. “Look, I don’t have much money, but let me go and I’ll—”

He lifted a finger to her lips to silence her and then smacked her breast so hard she shrieked. She sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the way her skin pulsed hot from his hit. He produced something from his pocket, prying her lips apart and stuffed it in her mouth despite her struggle.

“Ssh, you’ll come to like it.” His voice had deepened with lust. The slaps resumed across her breasts. Over and over until she was positive she would sport his handprints forever.

The gag blocked her cries, but there was no blocking the pain. He quickly reduced her to muffled screams, her tears streaming down the sides of her face. And through it all he spoke softly to her, stroking her hair and face. Soothing and inflicting pain, telling her how beautiful she was to him. Throwing her into a tailspin.


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