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He pulled the Velcro cuffs from her wrists and then caught her behind the knees with one arm and wrapped his other around her shoulders, lifting her into his arms. He carried her to a couch set against one wall and rolled her onto it.
As she coughed and sputtered, he dropped a towel on her chest. Gratefully, she grabbed the towel and wiped her face and head.
Alex sat beside her. Crossing his ankle over his knee, he turned to regard her with an impassive expression. Mara curled in on herself, angling away from the monster. “Remind me,” Alex said in a calm voice, as if he hadn’t just nearly drowned her in a bucket, “why I was forced to punish you just now.”
Mara edged away until she was pressed against the far arm of the couch. In a sudden movement, Alex reached over and yanked the towel from her. “Look at me.”
Mara forced her head to turn in his direction.
“I have no problem resuming the punishment,” Alex said. “It’s entirely up to you. When I ask a question, I expect an answer. Why did I punish you?”
“You punished me”—Mara had to push the word out—it wasn’t punishment, it was torture, plain and simple, but she didn’t dare risk the bucket again—“because I tried to use the phone to call for help.”
“Sir,” Alex said.
Mara stared at him, confused.
“Because I tried to use the phone, sir,” he elaborated. “You will address me as sir at all times going forward. Do you understand, Mara?”
Mara swallowed hard, impotent rage coursing through her blood like corrosive acid. “Yes, sir,” she forced herself to reply.
Alex gave a curt nod. “Now say it. ‘You punished me, sir, because I tried to use the phone.’ And you will add, ‘I was a very, very bad girl.’”
They’re only words. You’re doing this to survive until you can get away. It means nothing. He means nothing. In a leaden voice, she parroted, “You punished me, sir”—she could barely get the words past the lump of fury in her throat—“because I tried to use the phone. I was a very, very bad girl.”
“That is correct.” Alex smiled at her, the curve of his lips cold and hard. “Going forward you will answer with courtesy and promptness every question asked. You will obey every request and command instantly, without hesitation and without that willful, defiant attitude that radiates from you right now like a stink.”
He touched her thigh. Mara clenched her hands into fists to keep from smacking his hand away. “I understand this is difficult for you, Mara,” he said, his voice suddenly gentle. “It’s a lot to get a handle on your first day in your new life. I know you don’t believe it yet, but I’ll teach you to become a good, obedient, properly trained submissive. Does that please you, Mara?”
Mara stared at him, dumbfounded by the question. It would please me to kick you in the balls, you sadistic bastard. It would please me to get a gun and blow your fucking head off.
“You may answer honestly. I expect—no, I demand—honesty from my girls at all times.”
Mara had no idea how to respond. It was a trick, a trap. It was a catch-22. He was playing a sick game and she hadn’t yet figured out the rules. “Um,” she mumbled, gambling he wanted her to pretend, despite what he’d said. “Yes, sir, that pleases me.”
Alex’s hand shot out and he grabbed her by the throat, his thumb and forefinger digging hard into the flesh just below her jaw. Instinctively she grabbed for his hand with both of hers, trying to pry it away, but he held fast.
“You just lied to me. I’m going to ask the question again, and this time you will answer honestly.” Mara couldn’t breathe and her heart felt like it was going to explode. “Does it please you that I’m going to teach you to be a good, obedient, properly trained submissive?”
He let go of her throat and Mara began to cough as she gasped for breath. He stared at her with raised eyebrows. He wanted the truth? Fine. If pure hatred were enough to kill, the man would be dead five times over. “No,” she replied, “it doesn’t please me, sir.” She instantly regretted the sarcastic emphasis she’d been unable to stop herself from putting on the last word.
Alex nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on her face. To her relief, he didn’t seem to have taken offense at her tone. “No, of course it doesn’t please you. You have a mind of your own.” He smiled, adding ominously, “For now.” He stood and pointed to the concrete at his feet. “Kneel there in front of me. We’re going to try again. Remember what I’ve taught you so you can answer properly.”
He waited while Mara forced herself from the couch. She pushed her wet, matted hair from her face as she knelt on the hard concrete. She was hungry, thirsty, aching, terrified and utterly exhausted.
