Page 53 of Cherry Auction

Really wrong.

Usually, I’m a good dom. Not now, fucking obviously.

Now I’m too fucked to even be called a dominant, and certainly not one allowed back in any community.

But I used to be a good dom. Good enough to recognize when something’s wrong.

And whatever’s happening right now with Madison—Brooke—is really, really wrong. The vomiting upstairs, and now the catatonic stare.

Fuck! These are signs that something’s gone really, really off.

I yank the cage lid open and delicately lift Brooke’s tiny shivering body from the cold bars.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” I whisper into her oily hair. Fuck, I haven’t been taking care of my pet. There are rules. Like safe, sane, and consensual. There are rules for a feckingreason.

“It’s gonna be okay.” I kiss her forehead.

For several minutes I just cradle her shivering body in my arms, calling her name, both Madison and Brooke, but I don’t get any response at all. Just the dead-eyed stare.

Carefully, with her still in my arms, I scoot over to where I dropped the phone.

I went too far. She needs help. Real help, and not from a power-hungry fuck bent on breaking her for revenge.

Congratulations, fuckface, you got what you wanted. You broke her. How does it feel?

My stomach twists with nausea at what I’ve become.

I let out a furious grunt when the phone beeps with ano servicenotification. Goddammit, I’ve got to get out of the basement if I want to make a call. There’s no way in fuck I’m leaving Brooke here, though. I shove the phone in my pocket and look down at her.

Her eyes still stare out at nothing and my heart leaps into my throat with terror. “It’s gonna be okay,” I whisper as I squeeze her closer to me and stand up. Cradling her tightly to my chest, I hurry out of the room and towards the stairs at the end of the hallway.

“You’ve been such a good, good girl.”

Her eyes suddenly flick up towards mine, the tiniest bit of recognition coming back into them.

“Such a good, good girl,” I reassure her, throat tight. “My best girl. You’ve done so, so well through some difficult testing. But now it’s time to rest.”

An anxious line enters her forehead as her eyes search my face before she nudges my chest with her nose a few times.

“Brooke?” I whisper with hope as I key in the code, pull open the door, then take the stairs up, still holding her close to my chest. “Brooke, love. You with me?”

Her stare goes a little blank.

“Pet?” I try, and her eyes snap back to me. I nod at her, holding eye contact. “You’ve done so well, we’re going to take a little rest. You’ve been such a good, good girl.”

Relief enters her face, and she curls her head against me. Fuck, maybe it’s not as bad as I think. Maybe she just needs a little time and some sleep and then she’ll come out of it.

I hit the top of the stairs and drop down on the nearby couch. Brooke has made herself into a little ball again, this time just curled up on my lap, head against my chest.

I lift my phone and hit dial on Caleb’s number.

“Jesus, do you know what time it is?” comes his groggy voice.

“Shut up, it’s an emergency.”

“What happened?” He sounds more alert.

“I need a psychiatrist. I think I broke Mad— Brooke. I might’ve broken Brooke.”

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