Suddenly, the door to the room opens, and I immediately cover my breasts.
My savior grips my chin so fast, my breath hitches. There’s something about the intensity in his gaze. I’m not exactly scared of him, though I probably should be. Instead, I feel like a child being chastised.
I stare into his eyes as he disciplines me harshly with nothing more than a look.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, even though no one can understand me. Some strange part of me hates that I disappointed him. I want to please him. It’s totally irrational, considering I don’t know him or his intentions.
He’s both tender and firm. It’s giving me whiplash.
A man has joined us. I see him in my peripheral vision. He’s the doctor I recognize from a few days ago. He’s wearing the same blue clothes and a stethoscope.
My rescuer doesn’t move his gaze from me when he releases my chin, grabs both my wrists, and hauls them over my head, tucking them at the back of my neck. He still doesn’t look away as he speaks, though I know his words are aimed at the doctor.
The man in blue rounds behind me and clasps my folded hands, taking over for my savior. He pulls on my elbows, forcing me to arch my chest forward and sit taller.
Fear consumes me as I watch my many-faceted man turn toward the cabinets along the wall. He speaks to the doctor, who responds, then he opens a drawer and pulls something out.
He returns with what looks like a giant tongue depressor. Without hesitation, he grips one of my breasts and uses the wooden stick to swat my nipple so hard I cry out. I don’t havetime to fully process his intentions before he does the same to my other nipple.
I can’t breathe. My eyes are wide, my jaw dropped, and my breasts are throbbing from the sharp pain. Tears well up as my dark rescuer grips my chin again, forcing me to look at him. He says nothing. All he does is glare at me harshly. His eyes speak volumes. I can read his mind. What he’s conveying is that I’m not permitted to cover my breasts for any reason. He’s made that clear without language. If I do, he will punish me.
“I’m sorry,” I finally murmur, feeling extremely chastened. I prefer his tender side. More tears fall, running down my cheeks. Not so much from the pain but from the sorrow that I displeased him.
Every inhale seems to draw more of him into me. I feel oddly connected to him, as though my body knows he’s important to my life and well-being. It makes no sense, but the sensation is there, all the same.
My man says something else, and the doctor releases me.
I’m breathing heavily as I lower my hands to my sides. My nipples burn. I want to press my palms against them, but I don’t dare. I’m so humiliated to be naked in front of two men. One of them gave me a bath and rubbed between my legs in a way I’ll never forget.
The only interaction I’ve had with this doctor was positive. He gave me a blanket. I don’t want to be ungrateful. I need to make friends, not enemies. I’m at the mercy of these Venkorians. It would behoove me to follow their rules.
The doctor hands my rescuer something.
I stare at it, wondering what it could be. It’s a metal circle of some sort, but I can’t come up with anything to explain what it’s for.
Suddenly, the doctor grips my face with one hand reachingmy jaw. He lifts my hair with the other hand and holds the back of my head, immobilizing me.
My dark man opens the ring so it splits into two halves, then he brings it to my neck. Before I can process his intention, he snaps it around me.
My breath hitches as I feel the weight of the metal at my neck. My body goes into fight mode as I jerk around, trying to free myself from the doctor’s grip while tugging on the metal ring.
It’s a collar.A collar.
I’m an animal to these people. That’s abundantly clear.
My attempts to pull the thing off me are futile, and all my flailing around earns me is two giant men manhandling me until I’m lying on the exam table. They easily strap me down, restraining my wrists, my ankles, and my neck. The final confining binding is extended across my hips, forcing me to near-total immobility.
I start screaming. I can’t help it. My panic is real now. All the kindness from these two men has been replaced by such cruelty.
The doctor grabs my head to stop me from twisting back and forth. He grips my jaw next and forces me to open wide.
The dark man puts something inside my mouth. It’s a rubber…nipple. It’s a pacifier. The sort of thing an infant uses to soothe themselves. I try to spit it out, but the man fastens a strap to it and tightens it around the back of my head.
Saliva gathers in my mouth, and the only way to swallow it is to suck the nipple. It’s infuriating.
The doctor reaches for my collar and does something to it. The next time he speaks, I’m shocked to understand him completely. “It’s activated. You can talk to her now.”
I stop breathing. What’s going on?
