Page 40 of Savage

I think about the snacks he’d left on the bedside table, but they don’t appeal to me. Finger foods, things that can sit out all day without causing problems—peanut butter crackers, fruit, and whatever else he’d left today. Maybe if he left out something appealing… But no. I wouldn’t have eaten even a candy bar the way I’m feeling today.

The sense of wrongness goes down to my core, and I just want to disappear. “I can’t,” I whisper. “Please, I’m sorry, but I can’t. I don’t… I don’t feel good.” I know repeating the words isn’t going to help, but I don’t know what else to say.

“You know how I feel about disobedience,” Hunter snaps. He stalks over to my side, each footstep thumping hard against the wooden floors. I tense up, but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing the covers and pulling them off me. “Have I been too lenient? Did you think I was gentle? Is that why you’re rebelling now?”

I let out a whimper, still trying to curl into the fetal position to protect myself as much as I can—which isn’t much. I’m naked and alone except for this madman who thinks he’s trying to save me from myself… yet doesn’t care about me at all.

“I just… Please… Master…” I choke on the words, and for the first time, I do feel a shred of a desire to disobey. No, he hasn’t been lenient, gentle, or kind. But maybe it’s better I see him for what he really is.

A monster.

“This is your last chance to do as you’re told,” Hunter says. “Otherwise the punishment will be even more severe.”

I sniffle. Everything comes with a punishment. Even if I obey now, he’s still going to punish me. There’s nothing I can do now, no matter how despondent and miserable I am, to fix this.

Is it even worth obeying now?

Shaking, I slowly get out of the bed, stumbling over to him and kneeling in front of him. I know the words, but I don’t want to say them. I don’t want to thank him for taking me in. I don’t want to be here. I can hardly believe it, but I’d rather be back at Ntimacy.

There must be something wrong with me. At least I’m not fucking three different guys a night here! At least I sometimes get to play video games and relax.

But my skin crawls when I think about how Hunter is trying to make me depend on him, how he’s trying to take away all my choices. Even at Ntimacy I was allowed to choose what I wanted to wear for a dance routine. I got to choose my makeup. I got to choose not to be fucking perky and happy all the time.

I got to choose to be high and to escape my thoughts and to not think about the pit I’ve fallen into.

I glance up at Hunter, and all I see are those ice-cold eyes and that expression that judges me for all of my failures.

“Thank you for taking me in, Master,” I chant, my voice dull and disinterested in the words even as I utter them. He wants obedience, and this is the best I can give him while I’m drowning in depression.

It won’t be enough for him.

It never fucking is.

Hunter makes a disappointed sound, and I hate how I instinctively tense up.

“I was going to do a medical exam on you today,” he says. “And if I was pleased with your progress, I would have allowed you to choose a movie. But I see that’s not in the cards tonight.” He shakes his head. “Get up. I’m going to get your vitals anyway, and we’ll see what you deserve after that.”

There’s a part of me that wants to get snarky with him, that wants to tell him that choosing a movie isn’t the reward he seems to think it is. But what’s the point? He’s already angry at me, and nothing I do is going to make this better.

Maybe I could get on my knees, beg for his cock, beg for forgiveness… but I just don’t have the energy to do it. After all I’ve done for so long here, I just can’t.

It takes me a moment to muster up the energy to pull myself to my feet. Everything feels heavy, sluggish, and it’s like my body isn’t receiving the messages my brain is sending to it.

Then he hisses sharply. “What did you do to your arm?”

My arm?

I blink at him, not even sure what he’s talking about until I follow his gaze down to my arm. Huh. I don’t know when I started scratching at my arm, let alone when I brought blood to the surface in a few places, but I apparently had. I put my hand self-consciously over the spot, not wanting him to see it and judge me even more.

“Why did you do that? I trust you enough not to chain up your arms.” Hunter’s voice is brittle with anger.

I take a step back, wanting so badly to escape his judgment, even though I know there’s nowhere to go. “I don’t… I don’t remember doing it,” I whisper, tears starting to roll down my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m… I’m…”

“Don’t remember doing it? You aren’t a child. You have more control over your body than that. And you choose to scratch yourself up like some sort of animal. Do you even want to get better?” Hunter reaches out for me, and I instinctively take a step back.

I know it’s a mistake, but my head is beginning to fuzz up.

Do you even want to get better?

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