Page 63 of Savage

“I won’t, Master,” I say fervently. “I won’t. I promise. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good for you.” I will never, ever offer to go anywhere with him again, though I have a feeling it doesn’t matter. I opened that door, and now he’s got his foot firmly in it with his expectations of what I can and can’t do.

It’s so much. It’s too much to stand, but I have to be strong.

I just wish I thought there was any strength left in me.

Hunter stares at me for a long time, and I’m worried he’s going to change his mind and send me to Giulio anyway.

I swallow hard, squirming under his scrutiny.

But he steps closer and undoes the cuff around my wrist, then pulls my arm up to inspect it. “You bruised yourself struggling.”

I bow my head, looking away from him. “I’m sorry,” I whisper for what seems to be the hundredth time today. “I…” What does he want to hear? “I didn’t mean to… to bruise your property. I just… had to…” Well. I don’t need to finish that sentence. I’m sure he knows what I mean, and he probably knows when I got that desperate, too.

He undoes the rest of my chains, then snaps his fingers and points to the floor next to him. I hurry to get off the bed—away from the wet spot—and kneel there.

My entire body is shaking, and my limbs are sore from having been in one position for so long, but I can’t risk disappointing him even more.

“We’re going to have a stricter regimen,” Hunter says. “I thought you were smart enough not to squander your luxuries, but I was clearly mistaken. You will have to earn them from now on.”

My eyes threaten to tear up all over again. I have no idea how he’s going to be even stricter with me. He’s already so controlling, and he expects so much of me. I’m going to have to be flawless now, and I don’t even know that I’m capable of that. “Yes, Master,” I whisper hoarsely. “Anything you want. Anything.”

“Then go get cleaned up. You’re disgusting.” Hunter motions toward the bathroom.

I scramble to do what he’s told, but I don’t dare stand up. I crawl to the bathroom, expecting him to follow… but he doesn’t.

Misery threatens to overwhelm me. How much solitude is he going to punish me with?

Maybe I do deserve it.

I can’t get resentful; I can’t get upset.

I have to obey.

I don’t stand up until I reach the shower, and my knees are aching from the time spent on the hard tile floor. I fumble with the temperature, and while I’m tempted to make the water warm, I think that maybe he’ll consider it at least a small act of penance if I take a cold shower.

I leave the temperature near freezing, shuddering beneath the water, and I take a quick but thorough shower. He doesn’t come in, doesn’t check on me, and I don’t know if I’ll even find him in the room when I return.

When I’ve cleaned off the piss and cum, I stumble out of the shower, my teeth chattering.

I remember how he’d toweled me off on the first day, and how I’d thought he’d been kind, or gentle.

I squeeze my eyes shut to ward off even more tears. How can I still have tears left in me, after all the crying I’ve done?

I towel off, put the used towel into the laundry basket, then crawl back out. Hunter is still standing there, phone in hand.

I can’t help but be relieved, even though it’s short-lived.

“Strip the sheets,” he orders, not even looking at me.

I obey, shivering violently, pulling the sheets off the bed and grimacing. At the very least, it hasn’t soaked beneath the mattress cover, but that’s only a small mercy. “Where do you want me to put them, Master?” I ask meekly.

“In the laundry basket,” Hunter answers with open annoyance.

I shrink back. “Yes, Master,” I whisper. “I didn’t know if…” It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care if I wanted to put them right into the washer. I just have to listen to him, but he wants me to somehow guess what he wants—only to punish me with annoyance and impatience when I can’t.

This is going to be miserable, but going back to Ntimacy isn’t even an option anymore. Giulio would only sell me to someone who would take everything they could out of my body until there was nothing left—then I really would be just another piece of trash on the street for them to discard.

I add the dirty sheets to the laundry basket and crawl back to Hunter, looking up at him. I don’t dare hope that he’ll be appeased, but maybe he’ll tire of being mad at me soon.

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