Page 16 of Don't Say A Word

I look at him, my eyes narrowing.

“Say it.”

“Why?” I whisper.

Anger lights his eyes and tightens his stance. “Say it.”

“It is my pleasure to obey your command,” I mumble.

“Say it like you mean it.”

“But I don’t.”

“Pretend.”

I want to spit in his face. I want to claw out his eyes and bite his nose. Strength - or maybe it is stupidity – boils beneath the surface of my skin. The violence of my emotions is exhausting.

“Why do you want me to say it when we both know it is a lie?”

He’s surprised by my challenge. I can tell by the way he cocks one eyebrow, but he still answers. “Because it is what he wants. And you will do as he commands.”

Seeing the defiance in my eyes, he takes a deep breath and offers an explanation. “I assume you’re a smart girl, but even so, I’m going to make this simple for you. Do as you’re told and you won’t get hurt. That’s it. Obedience. That’s all that is required of you.” He walks further away from me, across the room and folds his arms, waiting patiently. “Say it.”

I’ve always been a good girl. Mum never had to spank me, never even had to raise her voice. If I ever thought about disobedience she could tell, and she would look at me with such disappointment, I would cave.

But that need to obey has left me. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t meekly submit to his commands. He hasn’t hurt me that much, yet. I can handle more. So I decide to test the boundaries and turn away from him, facing the wall. My body trembles as I await the backlash.

Boldness dances over my skin as he steps behind me. The heat of his body warms me as his lips brush against my ear.

“Turn around.” It is a command and a growl.

I stay frozen. The heat of him dissipates.

“Turn around!” His voice bounces off the walls, causing me to flinch with its controlled fury.

But still, I don’t move. Even though my heart is pounding, my hands are slick with sweat and my knees are weak, I keep facing the wall.

I don’t hear him get out the lash, but I hear it whistle as it whips through the air and lands on my backside. I wince as the pain slices through me. But I can handle it. I just need to switch off. Think of something else. Again and again the lash whistles then lands on my flesh. Even without seeing it, I know there are raised and angry red welts. But they don’t hurt. Not really. They sting, but the feeling is fleeting.

He breathes heavily, words falling from his mouth as he snaps. “Turn around!”

Gritting my teeth, I steel myself. I am becoming numb, his attempt to punish me almost laughable. Gathering courage, I lift my chin and straighten my shoulders.

But the lash doesn’t strike again.

My head jerks back violently as he grabs a fistful of my hair. “Don’t be stupid,” he hisses. “You can make this stop. All you have to do is obey.”

His elbow slams against my back and I am pushed against the wall, my breasts taking the brunt of the impact.

“I will put you back in those chains.”

Fear twists like a knife in my gut but I hold strong, determined to test just how far he will go to ensure my obedience.

“Ah,” he says, feeling my body tense. “You don’t like that idea, do you? Did you feel hopeless in the chains? Exposed?” He twists me around roughly, demanding that I look at him.

I look at the window.

I look at the door.

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