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strokes my clit one
last time before pulling his hand away from my pussy.
    “Pela.”
    He holds one dripping finger up to me, and my
eyes go wide.
    He can’t mean…
    His knuckles brush my lip.
    “Pela,” he says again, and in the background,
White Coat raises his crop.
    My heart races. I open my mouth. His finger
grazes my tongue, and I expect instant disgust, but instead…
    Instead my own juices taste almost…nice.
    I clean his fingers one by one. The salty
flavor is a perfect contrast to the sweet fruits I’d eaten earlier,
and the feel of his flesh between my teeth is almost
intoxicating.
    He strokes my cheek when I’m done.
    “Sona.”
    I smile.
    God help me, but for some reason I actually
smile.
    I have to remind myself that I’m just playing
this man. It’s an act, nothing more. So what if I fall a little too
easily into character? That’ll just make my escape all that much
easier in the end.
    Won’t it?
    He lifts me onto my hands and knees, and when
he pushes the bowl of fruit in front of me, I lower my face to the
bowl and eat like the obedient pet I am.
    He strokes my cunt. “Sona, Isa.”
    I eat while he fondles me. When I’m done, he
puts the gag back in my mouth before handing my leash to White
Coat. Words are spoken. Master goes one way, and White Coat leads
me in the next.
    I have no choice but to follow.
    My heart pounds and my arms shake, but I
can’t give in now. I have to be brave. I have to be strong. I’m
Adair Bartlett, and I can get through this. All I have to do is
remember who I am, and nothing these monsters can do will ever
change me.
    God, I just wish I could believe that
lie.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Six
    I crawl quickly behind White Coat.
    I don’t dare fight him. Those giant arms
could crush me if he wanted to, and that crop…
    I shudder just thinking about that crop.
    He leads me through one ornate room after the
next. Marble floors turns to carpet and carpet turns back to
marble. We pass through a long corridor with tall windows on one
side and floor to ceiling mirrors on the other. The sun is out. The
whole room glows. I steal a glance at the mirrored wall beside me
and there I am: naked, gagged, and chained.
    My breasts sway between my arms, and the red
welts on my ass and thighs burn brightly against my pale skin. My
matted brown hair is bad enough, but when I see my eyes…
    God, they might as well belong to an
animal.
    I can’t look at myself for long. That
reflection, it’s not me. I can’t let it be me. I need to remember
who I am, what I am. That’s the only way I’ll ever get out of that
madness. If I forget…
    My thoughts slip away as I pass a group of
towering marble statues at the end of the corridor. They’re women.
Naked women. Each one is collared and kneeling beneath an armored
man who holds her chain in one hand and a coiled whip in the
other.
    I stare at their faces, each submissive and
blissful as she stares up at the man holding her captive, and for
the tiniest fraction of a moment, all I feel is envy.
    I suck in a quick breath and shake the
thought from my head. No. No, that is no way to think. It’s just
the trauma, that’s all. This…this…whatever this is, it’s fucked up
and sick and in no way anything I ever wanted to be a part of.
    You’re Adair Bartlett. You’re a woman. You’re
your own woman. You’re meant to be free. You want to be free. It’s
the only right way to be.
    Isn’t it?
    I’m so lost in my own inner turmoil that I
don’t even notice I’m outside until I smell the fragrance of
freshly cut grass. I want to bolt. I want to run down that rolling
hill I see ahead of me and not stop until I’m all the way back in
Florence.
    But of course I can’t.
    I’m hobbled. All I can do is crawl as I’m led
down a long, stone walkway. A giant gray horse grazes in the field
to my left while on my right several men in black uniforms weed the
massive flowerbeds surrounding my master’s villa.
    One of them looks up at me, and I