“As you can see, every effort has been made to ensure your comfort. Food can be ordered from the menu provided by the AI beside the entrance. An attendant will arrive every morning to present your outfits and supervise your grooming. You must maintain your weight between one hundred and thirty to one hundred and thirty-five pounds at all times. Any gain or loss outside these parameters will result in punishment. The garden-door will be unlocked between ten and eleven a.m. every morning. Use your outdoor time wisely. He likes the slight tan you have now.”
What kind of messed-up place is this? Her new owner—even just thinking about the concept made her shudder—was obviously very specific in his requirements. He was also a weirdo. Only visited her on Wednesdays? What, did he have a different girl for every bloody day of the week?
“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” The woman slipped on a pair of black silk gloves and crossed her arms. “He’s doing you a favor. You’ll have a much better life here than you did in the Dust Alleys.”
“Favor?” A bitter laugh escaped Mari’s lips. “I’m a prisoner in a fucking gilded cage.” She put special emphasis on the curse-word, just because the attendant had warned her against it.
The woman reached into her tailored black jacket and produced a small silver device. “I warned you.” She pressed a button.
Mari gasped.
Excruciating pain shot through her neck, coming from a thin silver necklace.
Bastards! The innocent looking piece of jewelry they’d placed around her neck was actually some sort of shock-collar. In desperation, she tucked her fingers under it and tried to pull it off, but it wouldn’t budge. There was no clasp.
“It can’t be removed without this key,” the attendant informed her, waving the silver thing—a wand of some sort—around. “As long as you behave, it won’t be used.”
“You think you can tame me with that thing?” Mari’s eyes narrowed in hatred. These rich people and their enforcers thought they could own people… thought they could turn other human beings into their playthings.
“It’s a safety precaution, to make both our lives easier. Once you know the boundaries, you won’t be tempted to overstep them. We don’t want to hurt you, Miss Wednesday. If you obey, we won’t have to.”
Mari glared at the woman but kept her mouth shut. Now that the battle-lines were drawn, she could plan her disorder. These soft Telurians didn’t truly understand where she was from. In the Dust Alleys, every day of one’s life was a punishment. Poverty was pain, and Mari had a high threshold for it. She would just have to tread carefully until she understood this place a little better. With time, this so-called Master would understand that he’d purchased defective goods.
“Who is he?” Mari wanted to know who the bastard was, so she could put a name to her hatred.
“You don’t need to know who he is in the real world. To you, he is Master. Now, take off your robe.”
“What?”
“Don’t waste my time, Wednesday. He will be here soon to view you.”
View… Mari suppressed a shudder.
“You want me to strip…”
“Off!” The attendant’s voice became stern, cracking like a whip. The choker around Mari’s neck tingled with a faint electric charge, reminding her of the consequences of disobedience.
“And what happens if I refuse?” Mari’s voice grew soft. The rebellious part of her wanted to spit in the woman’s face, but the voice of reason inside her head told her not to.
You should probably try and get a better idea of what’s going on here before you do anything crazy.
What she really wanted to know was what happened to the girls who refused to obey even after they’d been punished time and time again. Mari wasn’t born yesterday. She knew her life was worth less than a speck of dust to these people if she didn’t serve her purpose.
And people who dealt with Darkside gangsters could do sinister things.
“I would not recommend it. If you refuse, we will have to do things the hard way. That would be humiliating for you.” The way the attendant said it, along with her completely deadpan expression, told Mari she was prepared to go to extremes.
Mari carefully swallowed her smart-ass retort.
Lord, this place gave her the creeps.
“If you have any qualms about being naked, you’d best forget them now. There’s nothing we haven’t already seen.”
Assholes! When Mari had first arrived at the compound, she’d been sedated. Whatever they’d injected into her had put her in a barely conscious state, and her recollection of events was hazy.
All she remembered was a white room, medical people wearing masks, bright lights…
And when the stuff had finally worn off, she’d found herself in this luxurious prison, wearing only a fluffy white bathrobe. Her hair was damp, and a pleasant floral scent surrounded her. Her fingernails and toenails had been trimmed. The red lacquer coating on her nails had been removed, replaced with a pale shade of pink.