Page 41 of Savage

I feel like I’m back home again, facing my parents as they berate me for the choices I’ve made.

“No,” I say, then I burst into tears.

Getting better hurts too much.

“So you simply enjoy being a waste of space and a drain on society’s resources. Ruining your body and mind for a pointless, temporary high that fixes nothing,” Hunter answers sharply.

I hunch my shoulders, hugging my arms against my chest. I don’t know what to say to that. Yes, I want to get high; no, I don’t want to be a burden.

I hadn’t been a burden at Ntimacy, had I? I’d earned money for Giulio… when I hadn’t been chasing off clients because of my tears and misery.

I really am just a fucking waste of space.

Hunter sighs and puts his hands on my shoulders. “This is why you need me to take care of you. You aren’t willing to do it yourself. Starving yourself, harming yourself, chasing after drugs…”

I flinch, though whether it’s from the touch or the words, I don’t even know. I don’t know what to say, what to do. He’s just going to hurt me, to punish me, and I can’t stop it. I’m just a thing to him, some pet project, and I’m never going to be what he wants.

It’s just going to be one day of isolation followed by another, with the only highlights in my day being a chance to play a video game here and there.

“You keep telling yourself that,” I mumble, unable to keep the bitter words from escaping my lips. It’s the first spark of life I’ve felt all day, even though I know snarking at him isn’t going to make any of this better. He’ll just see it as more disobedience and pile more and more punishments onto me because no matter what I do…

It’s never enough.

Not for him, not for anyone.

“Excuse me?” Hunter squeezes my shoulders threateningly. “Do you want to repeat that?”

I don’t look up at him.

“You’re trying to make yourself out to be a martyr,” I say, suddenly exhausted and finding it impossible to care about what I’m saying. “But you love that I can’t take care of myself.” I can’t help but laugh, for all that there’s no humor in the sound. “That’s why you wanted me. Giulio knew it, too. You wanted someone helpless, someone who wouldn’t fight back. Someone who would just obey and cry because I don’t know how to fight back.”

But I guess I’m fighting back now, aren’t I?

For a split second, Hunter loses his icy cool and glares at me with unabashed anger. I don’t know why that feels like a victory. I’ve actually broken through his barrier and made him feel something, for a change.

“I see.” He grabs my wrist and starts pulling me out of the room without any preamble. “I suppose this is your attempt to manipulate me, then. What kind of punishment do you want? More spanking? Should I bind you so you can only just barely touch the floor? Or perhaps you’re hoping that I’ll stuff your pussy and get you to the edge of orgasm.”

I stumble along behind him, and honestly, I don’t know how he can possibly be so delusional. “I don’t want to be punished, and I don’t want you to touch me. I just want you to leave me alone.”

“I can absolutely do that.” He brings me to his bedroom and pushes me toward the bed. “Lie down. Hands behind your back, legs together.”

And he just fucking walks to his drawer of toys, as if sure that I’m going to obey him.

I stay where I am. He’s going to punish me whether I cooperate or not. Why should I make this any easier for him?

There’s a part of me that wants to bow my head and meekly follow, but it’s not strong enough. I’m just desperate and exhausted and miserable, and I don’t know why I should listen. It’s not going to make this any easier. He isn’t going to change his mind.

Hunter turns around again, his torture tools in hand, and purses his lips when he sees me. “You really want this punishment,” he says with a sneer.

“It doesn’t matter what I want. You’re going to do what you want anyway,” I tell him, but my voice is trembling now. Maybe I am making this worse on myself. Maybe he is just getting more ideas about how to hurt me. Maybe…

I don’t fucking know what to do.

He grabs my wrist again, and I try to struggle against him. I don’t know why. Even when I was in full health, thirty pounds heavier and rested properly, I wouldn’t have been able to fight him off. Now I don’t have a chance.

Hunter snaps a manacle around my wrist and twists my arm behind me. I cry out in pain, and he takes that opportunity to grab my other wrist and slap the other cuff on it. In just a few seconds, he’s bound my hands.

“Stop!” I say, my voice shrill. “I’ll listen!” I should’ve listened from the start. Why had I been so stupid?

---