Page 25 of The Author

I blinked in surprise when his touch was gentle. I felt him clean the cuts before he put some soft gauze down and taped it on.

He patted my ass.

“Good girl,”

I tried to stifle the anger inside me at his condescending words.

“I’m going to make you another smoothie. Your windows are nailed shut, and the door will always be locked. You’re not leaving,” he said ominously.

I didn’t say anything, but my body only relaxed when I heard his footsteps moving away from me.

I slowly turned onto my side. The warning was clear in his voice. I curled into myself, uncaring that I was naked.

Not long ago, I had been self-congratulating myself, thinking I had reached a pinnacle in my career. In the blink of an eye, everything changed.

Would I make it to my thirty-second birthday? Would I see my loved ones again? Would I become another missing statistic?

All the things I had taken for granted seemed irrelevant. It was basic life necessities that I craved. The right to talk, eat, wash and have freedom of movement. I felt the self-pity creep up from the pit of my stomach. My lips trembled, only reminding me he had taken my voice away. I clenched my eyes closed. I didn’t want to feel like a victim. If I did, he would win in reducing my life to nothing. Make me into nothing.

I remembered his words.

Who would miss me? My mum?

I guess self-pity gave way as I felt a teardrop roll down the bridge of my nose. I clenched my eyes tighter, wanting to stop it all. I didn’t want to think anymore. The exhaustion was taking over, and I felt myself drift towards the black abyss of sleep.

???

When I woke up, he was sitting on a chair beside the bed with his feet up on the bed near my chest. The room was dark except for the small lamp beside the bed. It hadn’t been there before.

His stare was making me uncomfortable. I didn’t want to cower before him either, so I looked past his head towards the wall.

“I’m going to take the stitches out in a couple of days—if you behave,” he said.

My eyes zoomed back towards his face to see if he was serious.

Holy shit. He looked serious.

“But if you speak, I am going to stitch your lips up again, and this time, you won’t be knocked out for it,” he continued to say.

Unable to help myself, I ran my fingers over my lips. I kept my eyes on him and slowly nodded.

He said nothing, but his eyes continued drilling into mine. I could feel his—anger? Or was it hatred?

His face relaxed slightly, and his eyes went towards the bedside table. My eyes followed his, and I felt dismayed when I saw the tall black glass.

“I was surprised I could wank out another load for you. I thought your holes had sucked me dry,” he said with amusement tinging his voice.

His words remind me of my bruised flesh where he had gripped me, but the warm water from the shower had helped ease any residual pain from his rough treatment.

“Go on, drink it down. I have another one in the blender for you.”

I held the towel over my chest and reached for the glass. Once I had the glass, I kept my eyes downward. Not in submission, but I didn’t want him to see my disgust in him and his twisted sick fucking ways.

I gently pushed the straw through my lips and was pleasantly surprised at the thick milkshake texture of the smoothie.

“Fresh strawberry and cum protein shake,” he murmured.

I flinched but still didn’t look at him.

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