Page 35 of Take Me

Somewhere along the way, I recognize that it’s a good thing, not being cognizant during the humiliation my body endures. But I also think that it doesn’t matter, because there’s nothing humiliating about the way large hands gently handle me, carefully washing me and curling me up in a warm lap.

“That was quite fascinating,” someone says, and I blink my heavy lids to find Mikhail in a chair across the room, watching with curious eyes. I had completely forgotten he was here.

“She went deep into subspace,” Dax says, ruffling my hair gently. “Never seen that happen to a girl in this place before.”

“Maybe we should train more women like this. Good money if we find the right buyer, I think.”

“I’ll definitely be up for it,” Dax says. “It gets tiresome with all the screaming sometimes. I swear, some days, I just want to cut all of their vocal cords.”

I squirm on his lap as the horror scenario plays out in my head.

“No worries, pretty girl. Not yours,” Dax reassures, hugging me tight.

I blink to see Mikhail rub his scruff and cock his head. “I do like them screaming, but the whole brain-twisting part is a good challenge.” He taps the side of his head. “Keeps me sharp.”

“I wouldn’t mind you sending this one my way again.”

“Of course. But I’ll keep my eye out for submissive tendencies in other girls. Fear tends to cover it up, so we might not see even if it’s there.”

The two men keep chatting for a while. Disturbing though the subject might be, I manage to shut it out and rest my head on Dax’s shoulder, enjoying the way his fingertips move against my scalp.

He feels strong and steady,and as long as I keep my eyes closed and ignore the voices, I can almost pretend that it’s Nikolai holding me, and I drift back into that warm, fuzzy place.

CHAPTER

9

I’m not the same after the chair and theoddepisode with Dax.

I still fight Mikhail sometimes when he comes to use me and train my ass, but it’s mostly because he provokes me, telling me to tug at my chains or to try to get free when he holds me down. When he doesn’t provoke me, I simply go along, pushing up on all fours to display my ass for him, opening my mouth wide when he wants to train my gag reflex, or crawling down the hall in front of him when he’s taking me to Dax.

Something must have snapped in my mind. Or maybe settled. It’s like knowing how futile escape is has freed up room to accept the situation.

I feel an odd sort of peace, knowing it’s all out of my hands. I can’t change a thing no matter what I do, so I might as well stop trying.

But that doesn’t mean hope is gone.

I still dream about Nikolai, letting my mind take me to him when I lie on the mattress, hugging the teddy close in my chained arms.

I fantasize about him bringing a small army out here to storm the place and free me. But when I imagine them shooting up the place and the men in here—Mikhail and Dax lying dead on the cold stone floor—I’m back in a nightmare, gasping for air.

I know it’s bad. I’m developing feelings for my captors. Stockholm syndrome. So I think extra hard about Nikolai to block it out, imagining him stealing down the halls at night, quietly breaking open my cell and carrying me out of here.

It’s a wild dream. He may have the resources to search for me and maybe even succeed, but why would he go to such lengths for a girl he has just met? He might not even realize something bad has happened. Most likely, he thinks I changed my mind and bolted.

This is what my logical brain tells me, but something in my gut keeps the dream vivid in my mind. The way he saidminewhen we said goodbye held a promise so deep and sincere I can’t let it go. I’m not sure exactly what the promise entailed, but it was a promise of so much more to come.

So I keep him alive in my mind, and when Mikhail brings me back to the chair one day, I close my eyes and imagine it’s Nikolai’s voice ordering me into it.

I willingly get up, even knowing what torture I’m facing. But when I imagine Nikolai’s hands strapping me down, it’s like an erotic dream. Dax doesn’t need a drop of lube when he comes to insert the dildo.

“She’s already dripping,” he says, flicking his fingers through my folds.

He has left my ears free today, though the hood is in place over my head, covering my world in darkness.

Steps click over concrete as Mikhail approaches, and I feel his authoritative presence beside me before he slips a finger through my wet lips.

“Dirty girl.” He tuts and shoves two fingers inside me, making me gasp. “Such a good littleshlyukha,”he half mocks, half praises.“It’s a shame we already have a contract on this one. We could get really good money for her.” He draws his fingers back and slams three long ones inside, and I buck against the restraints as pain and pleasure coalesce around the intrusion. “Or I could keep her to myself.”

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