Page 6 of Savage Desires

"Inside," he growls.

He shoves me to my knees, making me cry out when they hit the cement floor. When I don't immediately start to move towards the cage, he uses his big, booted foot to push me forward. Another wordless threat. I can move on my own, or he will kick me until I'm inside. Part of the mindfuck is making us crawl into the cage under our own power. Making us participate in the punishment.

When I reach the front of the crate, I spin around and back inside. After the first time, I learned that crawling straight in means you can't see what's coming when and if someone opens the door. I never did that again. The cage door slams shut, and Vlad secures it with a thick lock. He doesn't say anything as he leaves the room. The door closes, and the room is plunged into complete darkness.

I close my eyes and do my best to control my breathing. Panicking will only make things worse. When I've finally calmed my breathing, I slowly arrange myself on my side at the bottom of the cage. The bars cut into my skin painfully, but it's better to spread it out more evenly than to localize it to only my palms and knees, like lying on a bed of nails.

I wrap my arms around my legs and close my eyes. I try to bring up a happy memory, something to lose myself in, but nothing comes. I don't have many memories left from before I was taken. It's like every new trauma that happens pushes another piece of my past out of my mind, replacing it with something darker.

After a few minutes, I give up on trying to find a good memory from my past to focus on. I'm starting to hyperventilate again because I don't know how I will survive this punishment without something to focus on. Before I can completely lose it, a pair of dark eyes fills my mind.

Kisten.

I mentally grab onto the memory and let my mind run with it. I replay what happened and how kind he was to me. I've never once been tempted to risk telling someone at the club what was happening because you never know who the enemy is, but I wanted to confide in him. I don't know how I know he can be trusted, but I do. Kisten is an intimidating man. Tall, muscular, with dark eyes that I have no doubt could be used to terrify someone. He's dangerous, that's obvious, but I let my mind latch onto how safe he made me feel.

I lie in the dark, creating an imaginary existence where Kisten rescues me. I don't know how much time passes. I fade in and out of sleep. The one consistent thing other than the darkness is my growing fantasies about Kisten. My stomach aches from hunger, and my mouth and throat are painfully dry. I'm weak from hunger and dehydration. My punishment has to be coming to an end soon unless they've decided to make an example of me like they did with Bree.

Why does that thought not provide any comfort like it once would have?

I have a worrying suspicion that it has to do with my dark-eyed savior. I drift to sleep again, wondering if I'll wake up or not.

"Willow. Wake up," a soft voice filters through the silence.

I blink my eyes open and see the first bit of light I have in... I don't know how long. My eyes hurt from the brightness, but I don't dare close them again in case this isn't real.

"Oh, thank God," the voice comes again. "Willow, can you move?"

I try to make my body work, but everything weighs a million pounds. Darkness pushes in from all sides, and I can feel it trying to take me under again, but the urgent whispering keeps me tethered to the here and now.

"Come on, Willow. You need to get out of there. Now, before Madame comes back."

I finally match the frantic voice to that of Georgie. She lightly slaps my cheek, helping push the darkness back further. I attempt to move to my hands and knees to crawl out of the cage, but my entire body protests. My muscles ache from being in one position for so long. My arms and legs are leaden. I grit my teeth and use the little strength I can muster to pull myself out of the cage with Georgie's help. I collapse onto my back as the blood painfully flows freely through my body again. It's like a million tiny needles stabbing my extremities. It's proof of life. Evidence that my body survived another punishment.

"Come on. We don't have much time before lockdown, so we need to get you to the showers. If we aren't in our room on time, we'll both be in that cage," Georgie says.

She helps me to my feet, letting me lean heavily on her as we slowly make our way to our room. I can feel the eyes of the other women on me as we pass. I keep mine focused on the floor and my dirty feet. I don't want to see the pity in their eyes. It doesn't matter that we are all in the same position; there's always someone suffering just a little more than you are, and right now, that person is me.

We finally make it to the bathroom, and it's blessedly empty. Georgie helps me to the shower and turns the water on. The cold water steals my breath from my lungs while waking me up even more. What I wouldn't do for some hot water right now. I'm cold down to my bones, but this place has no warmth. It's just another way they remind us that we aren't people.

I turn my face into the stream of water and open my mouth to drink. I stop before I'm satisfied because I've learned the hard way that putting too much of anything in my stomach after starving for days ends in puking. Small sips and meals to start. The last thing I want to do is waste any nourishment I'm allowed now that I'm out of the cage.

Georgie helps clean me up since I'm so weak. Most people would be embarrassed in this situation, but modesty and embarrassment left me long ago. It's all about surviving now.

"How long?" I whisper.

"Five days."

I just nod in response. What can I say anyway? Five days locked in the dark, left to starve and soil myself. Five days to get lost in my own head. Five days of sinking into insanity. Dark brown eyes flit through my mind, reminding me that I wasn't completely alone in that hell. My savior was there, even if he was a figment of my imagination. A glimpse into my insanity.

Once I'm clean, she helps me dry off and dresses me in a shapeless dress like the one she's wearing. When we aren't working, we wear old dresses or oversized t-shirts that have seen better days. I'd choose this ugly dress a hundred times over the outfits we're dressed up in for our clients. Depending on the client we have that day, it could be anything from an evening gown to expensive lingerie to nothing at all.

The walk to our room is slow. Even though I'm feeling steadier on my feet, I'm still weak. Even this short walk is zapping the little bit of energy I gained from the freezing shower and water I drank. Thankfully, Georgie keeps her arm around me, letting me lean on her. We finally reach our room, and she helps me to my bed. The thin mattress feels like a cloud after my time in the cage.

"I saved you some dinner," Georgie says.

"Thank you."

She hands me a chipped bowl filled with what is supposed to be stew. It's really just chunks of meat boiled with potato chunks and zero seasoning. It's disgusting, but I'm so hungry it tastes like a gourmet meal. I don't even care that it's stone cold. I eat slowly even though I want to gorge myself. I barely eat half of the small bowl of stew before my stomach protests. I set it aside and lay down facing Georgie.

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