Page 55 of The Life of Anna-Tenth Anniversary Edition: Act 1

“Da, da,” he said. “I’m almost done. I’m sorry. It took longer than I expected.” He walked out with a friendly smile. “If you’d like, there are chairs back here. I’ll be about ten more minutes.” He motioned through the door.

She hesitated. Do I dare go back there? Would Devin approve? He must trust this person to fix such an important piece of jewelry.

Anna smiled and accepted his invitation. The man pointed to a group of wooden chairs in the corner, so she sat down and watched him work. He looked to be in his early sixties, with gray hair and a matching beard. He wore a blue flannel shirt that brought out the blue of his eyes.

A few minutes later, a door opened in the back and a younger man, maybe in his early thirties, walked inside. He spoke with the older man in another language. The older man nodded and motioned in her direction. The younger man peered at her with a wicked smile on his face and approached.

Anna stiffened as he came near, and she jumped to her feet. “I can come back tomorrow...”

But the younger man stepped in front of her. His jet-black hair was a stark contrast to his electric blue eyes. She moved away and he followed. She didn’t want a stranger touching her, and knew Devin wouldn’t approve. For the first time, she felt the need—and the ability—to run away from a man.

Anna took a step to the other side and tried to get by, but he moved in front of her again. He caressed her upper arm. “Where are you going?” His words were accented, but much less than the old man’s.

“I-I have to get home.” She stepped in the other direction, but he moved that way, too. Anna swallowed. “Please let me go.”

“Let a pretty girl like you go without getting to know you better? That would be a crime against nature.” He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close to him, then slid his hands down her ass and began kneading it.

Anna pushed against his chest. “Let me go. Don’t you know who I am?” She lifted her chin and glared at him.

The man laughed. “You’re a sex slave from the Manor.” He grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked her head back, exposing her neck, which he sucked on. “You’re not supposed to say no.”

No, I’m not! “But Devin said my necklace?—‍”

He laughed. “I don’t see a necklace. Do you, Papa?”

The older man chuckled and shook his head. “No, Max. I do not.”

“I don’t see a necklace. How am I supposed to know what kind of girl you are?” He gave an evil grin. “Are you a Red Girl?”

Oh, God! “No! No, I’m not!” She pushed against his chest hard and fell backward onto the chair.

He laughed. “No, sweetheart. We’re not going to do it here. Someone might hear you scream, and that would be bad for business.”

Terror filled her heart. “Please don’t hurt me...”

He yanked Anna to her feet. “Come with me nicely and I’ll think about it. Make me drag you, and I’ll make my decision now.” His eyes were ice cold.

Anna swallowed and looked back at the door to the shop. He wasn’t going to be nice whether she went quietly or not. Still...

She sprinted for the door. Devin hadn’t told her to please him and she didn’t want to upset him. She got about three steps away before Max grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to the back of the shop. She screamed and fought, but he was too strong.

He hit her across the face. “Shut up or I’ll make it so much worse than you can imagine.” His blue eyes blazed with lust. He wanted her to try something. It turned him on.

She swallowed and hung her head. Maybe if she didn’t fight...

Once outside, he grabbed her hair and shoved her across a narrow alley to a row of townhouses. He walked up to one and pushed her inside. Anna paused just inside the door. A man about the same age as Max sat across the room on an old couch, watching TV and drinking a beer.

He looked up as they entered. “Is this her?”

“Yeah,” Max responded. He took her purse from her and threw it on the ground, then dragged her up the stairs and into a bedroom. He pushed her back onto the bed and grinned.

Anna lay on the bed looking at the ceiling, staying as still as possible. If she didn’t fight, maybe he’d get bored and leave her alone. It had worked once with one of Master Jack’s friends. Once. Then Master Jack had punished her for disappointing his friend.

She closed her eyes. My pain is irrelevant. The only thing that matters is whether or not I am pleasing him.

But this wasn’t a man Master Jack or Devin had chosen for her to please. Would Devin punish her for not fighting or not fighting enough?

My only purpose in life is to provide sexual pleasure to men.

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