Page 43 of Game Over

“It’s... It’s too private,” I try again, feeling tears burn behind my eyelids. “Some things should stay inside our heads.”

“Nothing stays inside with me. Nothing.”

I know I should just tell him. The punishment will be worse for lying. But how can I admit that my deepest fantasy mirrors my current nightmare? That in my darkest moments, I’ve imagined someone wanting me so much they’d take me against my will?

If I tell him, I validate everything he’s done, give him permission retroactively, and admit that something broken inside me aligns with his twisted view.

“I can’t. I just can’t.”

His face hardens, disappointment etched in the lines around his mouth. Without warning, his thumb presses the button on the remote.

This time, the shock is nothing like before.

White-hot pain lances through me, a current that seizes every muscle. My back arches off the bed, restraints cutting into my wrists as I shake. A ragged cry wrenches itself from somewhere deep inside me, unfamiliar and untamed. The electricity surges through places I didn’t know could feel such intensity, each nerve ending igniting like a fuse. And beneath it all, horrifyingly, a deeper pulse of something that isn’t pain at all.

When it stops, I collapse against the mattress, gasping. Tears stream down my temples into my hair. My body trembles with aftershocks, muscles spasming involuntarily.

“That was level two,”Rykersays calmly as if he’s just adjusting the volume on a television. “There are eight more levels, and I have all the time in the world.”

I shake my head weakly, still trying to catch my breath. “You’re sick.”

“I’m patient,” he corrects. His fingers hover over the remote again. “Your most frequent fantasy about me. Detail it. Graphically.”

“Please,” I beg.

“I won’t stop until you tell me.” The certainty in his voice chills me. “Each shock will increase in intensity until you share your truth. This is a battle you can’t win.”

His thumb presses down again, and this time, I can’t even scream—my entire body tenses so violently that sound can’t escape. The current seems to reach deeper, finding places inside me that shouldn’t feel both agony and dark, twisted pleasure simultaneously.

When it stops, I’m sobbing, my chest heaving with ragged breaths.

“Your fantasy,Kira.” His voice cuts through the fog of pain. “Every detail. Now.”

My entire body throbs with the aftermath of the shock. I can’t take another one. I just can’t. The truth claws its way up my throat, desperate to escape.

“Fine,” I gasp, my voice breaking. “I’ll tell you.”

Ryker’seyes gleam with victory, his finger thankfully moving away from the remote. “I’m listening.”

I close my eyes, unable to look at him while I expose the darkest corner of my mind. “I...I fantasize about being taken. About someone wanting me so badly they’d...” The words stick in my throat, shame burning through me.

“Continue,” he prompts, his voice softer now.

“Someone who’d cross every line to have me.” Each word feels like ripping off a layer of skin, revealing raw, exposed flesh beneath. “In my fantasy, he knows what I want before I do. He doesn’t let me hide behind excuses.”

My chest heaves with ragged breaths. The sensors must be recording my humiliation, my pulse racing with the confession.

“He doesn’t ask permission. He just takes what he wants because he knows I want it too, but I’m too afraid to admit it.”

The tears flow freely now, not from pain but from the unbearable vulnerability of having this secret dragged into the light.

“I imagine being completely at someone else’s mercy. No choices, no responsibility. Just...surrender.” My voice cracks at the last word. “And the worst part is that I’m not fighting in these fantasies. I’m...grateful.”

I finally open my eyes to face him, shame burning my cheeks. “Are you happy now? Does knowing how broken I am make you feel justified?”

The confession hangs between us, my deepest shame laid bare under the clinical lights, captured by his machines and sensors. The truth I’ve never spoken aloud to anyone—that my fantasy is a twisted mirror of my current nightmare.

“Broken?”Ryker’svoice is surprisingly gentle. “No,Kira. Not broken. Human. Beautifully, perfectly human.”

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