Page 29 of Violent Love: Viktor
Let them see.
Let themallsee.
She wasn’t mine in name. She was mine in form. In function.
A thing.
A pet.
Exactly as she was meant to be.
And now it was time for her first walk.
Chapter 12
Natalya
I wasn’t expecting to see the doctor so soon. As we neared the door, I took a deep breath and tried to steel myself—but the latex mask muffled the sound, trapping the air and panic against my face. The snout cut off half my vision, but I was grateful for the blur. Better not to see the chair…or the stains…or remember Petrov.
“Good. You’re on time. Get her up on the chair,” the doctor said, as if I were an overdue appointment.
I flinched at the word“chair”—then saw it. The gynaecologist chair stood beside the bed like a metal trap, legs spread open to the world. Viktor lifted me like I was weightless and placed me in it. The seat was cold. So were his hands.
The straps came next.
First my thighs, then my ankles. The broad bands locked tight, pinning me open. Panic bloomed in my chest.
“She’s secured,” Viktor said, stepping back to admire his work.
I turned my masked face toward the doctor. He had his back to me, standing at a tray cluttered with cruel shapes. There was the glint of metal and the whisper of latex gloves. His movements were calm, practised, and detached.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to fix her permanently?” he asked, wheeling his table of horrors toward me.
I froze. My head whipped toward Viktor.
Fix me?
Were they talking about sterilisation?
I’d always wanted children. Maybe not many—perhaps just one. A soft little hand to hold. A name that was mine to give. And here they were, casually speaking of my reproductive system as if it were an inconvenience.
“Just the IUD—for now, Doctor,” Viktor said, eyes on me.
I exhaled the breath I hadn’t known I was holding.
The doctor reached for my collar, tilting my head.“Is this a shock collar?” he asked with clinical curiosity.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t move.
He traced the edge of it like someone inspecting a prized dog. I focused on the tray instead. A metal bowl. A sealed packet. A speculum. A few tools I didn’t recognise. Some looked like scissors. Some didn’t look like they belonged in a human space at all.
“Yes. I’ve only tested it at the lowest setting,” Viktor said.“If she behaves, she won’t need to find out how high it goes.”
He smirked. I didn’t.
The earlier jolt hadn’t exactly hurt, but it was enough to make me whimper—and the threat of something worse loomed.
The doctor clicked on the spotlight. It flared between my legs, blinding, invasive. I shut my eyes. The air smelled like antiseptic and iron.
