Page 251 of Bad for Me

I need to be nice and obedient the next time Raul comes by because I can’t afford to go without eating for much longer. The single smoothie he fed me the previous night isn’t enough to sustain me.

It’s getting so much harder to think with my energy levels so low. The few moments my thoughts are clear, I keep thinking back to the scene in the shower.

No, not a scene.

He raped me. It doesn’t matter that my body enjoyed it, or that I ended up falling into subspace. There were no safewords; I didn’t get to say no.

It had still been more intense than anything else I’d ever experienced.

My mind threatens to go through another sickening loop of remembering the entire ordeal in living color, and I’m almost grateful when the door to the tiny cell opens — even if it is Raul standing in the doorway.

His expression is thoughtful as he takes in the sight of my nude body, and he almost sounds sympathetic when he says, “It’s cold in here. Come on. Let’s get you upstairs. I have food and a nice blanket calling your name.”

Fuck. That sounds so good. I know exactly what he’s doing, but I’m so relieved to finally get to eat that I don’t even care about all the psychological theory behind this.

I just have to remember that none of it is real. It’s designed to make me see him as my friend.

He’s still the one who put me in this position.

I get up and shuffle over to him as best I can. At least my hands are bound in front of me, which makes balancing a little bit easier.

“Good slut,” he tells me, his voice every bit as affectionate as the nickname is offensive.

He wraps an arm around me, kissing my brow, before he leads me out of the slave quarters. “I have scrambled eggs and bacon and a biscuit for you. Do you like bacon? I can get you sausage instead.” Despite how easy it would be to wrap an innuendo in his words, he doesn’t seem to have thought of it.

“I’ll eat anything,” I say hoarsely, because I’m not going to tell him that I’m mostly vegetarian these days. I can’t exactly afford to be picky right now.

“Good.” He smiles at me, and I’m struck by just how much of a shame it is that he’s such an evil bastard because it looks good on him.

He leads me up the stairs, past guards I count yet again — the number doesn’t change, only the men themselves — and into the wing I remember his room being in. I do my best to memorize my way there, but with the lack of food and sleep, it’s hard to really focus on much of anything.

I smell the food as soon as we enter his room, and my stomach grumbles, embarrassingly loud.

Raul just smiles at me, gesturing for me to sit down on the floor in front of an easy chair.

I’m too tired to protest or even feel indignant about it. I lower myself to the floor and close my eyes, waiting for what comes next.

I can only hope he does actually feed me. I don’t know what I’d do if this was an elaborate trick.

He strokes my hair gently, then touches my chin and urges me to look up at him. When I do, he offers a small piece of bacon from the nearby tray.

I open my mouth for it, and I savor the salty flavor and crispy texture. I can’t remember the last time I had bacon, but I swear it never tasted this good.

Hunger really is the best seasoning.

He takes up a forkful of eggs, carefully bringing that to my lips as well. Each bite is better than the next — perfectly seasoned, just the right temperature, and perfect in a way I swear no food has ever been before.

I’m afraid to refuse him even when I’m full, so I keep eating until it’s all gone. When it is, he presses a napkin to my lips, dabbing around my mouth.

“How was that?” Raul murmurs.

“Good,” I mumble. I don’t pull away when he starts to run his fingers through my hair, gently petting my scalp. Little tingles spread out from everywhere he touches, and I bite down on my lip to swallow any embarrassing sounds.

I know this is all fake.

It would be nice if my body got with the program too. I’m starting to regret having been celibate for as long as I had been. Maybe I should have hit up the clubs before I’d taken on this job, but I hadn’t wanted to risk jeopardizing anything.

“If you’re good, maybe you can stay in my room overnight,” Raul murmurs soothingly. “I don’t think you?—”

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