Page 24 of Stolen Compliance

The cold water is a welcome shock to the system, helping to reboot my brain as it heats. I don’t bother waiting for the water to get warm though, scrubbing myself twice to make sure all the bodily fluids go down the drain.

Thankfully, there’s a bench in here, so I can adjust the shower head and bend over it. Tears prickle the back of my eyes as I reach back and spread my ass open, letting the water hit there to wash away the cum spilling from me.

I choke back a sob as I force myself to wash my asshole with the bodywash. It burns and stings, and the fucker definitely tore me open this time.

By the time I deem myself clean enough, I’m shaking from both the physical and soul-deep pain.

With clumsy fingers, I turn the shower off and step out.

The bath is ready now, so I turn it off and climb in. The hot water has me moaning, and I lean back, submerging as much as possible to help my sore muscles relax.

I lose the fight with my tears as I soak, reminded all over again that in the grand scheme of things I am nothing. This isn’t new. Since I’ve been here, I’ve been trained. Taught by my father how the business works, prepared to one day take over the operations. My heart hardened to the suffering of others, but for myself? I haven’t quite figured out how to protect my heart from direct hits. No matter how many times it happens.

This wasn’t the first time, nor do I imagine it’d be the last, but fuck. Knowing I failed…that all my hard work was for nothing because once again I am reduced to nothing worthy…

It’s a tough pill to swallow. Especially since, as much as Dominic would deny it, I know it’s personal.

He hates what I represent, that I was made my father’s heir, and that he cannot have complete control over me. In another life, I’d wonder if he liked me, in a fucked-up, toxic way, but here? I know he simply gets sick pleasure from my suffering.

I can accept the fact I failed and deserved the punishment, but the brutality of this instance… then bringing Luca in?

My stomach churns and I hop out of the bath as fast as I can without killing myself. My knees crack with how hard they hit the floor to kneel in front of the toilet, but that has nothing on the way my throat and nose burn as I vomit into the porcelain bowl.

I heave, expelling everything in my system as the recent memories try to creep in, mixed in with the old.

The taunts, the touching, the pain…and the humiliation of coming against my will. It’s a jumbled mess, and I cry harder, unable to hold myself together.

But the real kicker? This latest rape does nothing to temper my attraction and crush on Dominic. If nothing else, the fucked-up, twisted freak they’ve turned me into is simply happy that he touched me.

When I have nothing else to empty, I flush the toilet and crawl back to the bath. I should wash my mouth out, but I don’t have the energy to care right now, not when I ache like I got run over once or twice.

Fucking hell.

Closing my eyes as I lounge in the tub, I consider trying to drown myself here, but knowing them, they’d bring me back simply to start the process all over again. Besides, it’s not death I want…but a chance to turn the tables.

Fucking Luca.

I told him last night he was a terrible liar, and while that’s true when it comes to his own reactions, he’s just like the rest of them. Able to hide his cruelty behind the mask of a soft, confused, lost, and sympathetic man who is way in over his head. It’s all a lie, and as much as I pitied him for being thrown to the wolves, the realization that he fits right in hits hard.

It makes my stomach quiver despite being empty.

As the water grows cold, I turn the tap back on to fill it up, contemplating just staying here all day, knowing I’ve earned myself a “day off” after the fuckery.

But the rebellious part of me that’s awoken after being here says fuck that. Pain or no pain, anal tear or not, I will not let them see me weak. I’ve worked too hard to gain more than contempt from Dominic. I refuse to let this set me back, even if it was on his whim that I “failed”.

And yet, had the tables been turned, I’m not sure I would have done anything differently…after all, it’s what we’ve been trained to do.

My heart clenches, and I squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t shed any more tears over how fucked my life has become. Everything I thought I was, whoever I was once before, is gone. And in its place is an empty shell, barely surviving off the scraps of humanity I have left, and lusting after my main abuser. It’s sick, it’s twisted, and it’s my reality for now and always.

The thought is enough to make my mouth water and wishing I could permanently sink into the happy place in my mind, but knowing despite how fucking hard he took me today, it was still tame. I can be grateful for that, at least. And therein lies the issue. As much as this has set me back, I know it can always be worse. I’ve learned what I can live with, have acclimatized myself to the pain and suffering, and know, no matter how much it hurts today, tomorrow it’ll simply be a blip on my radar. A necessary step in my training, and one I accept because I am a Martelli, and that is what I’m supposed to do.

I hate it. Hate my father. Hate Dominic. But most of all, I hate myself.

“You seem…sexually repressed, my friend.”

I glare at the man across from me. Like always, it doesn’t have a damn bit of effect on him. He’s one of the men my predecessor trained and is far harder than most around here. Although, I suppose if I had any friends, he would likely be one. Possibly. He’s a fucking asshole, but that fits me.

“Was that everything you had for me, Miles?” I say dryly, ignoring his comment.