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No way in hell am I going to sit quietly for this. Saint approaches me with leather cuffs, still giving me that pitiful look. “Don’t fucking touch me!” I yell, moving away from him.
Of course Angelo is on the other side of me, and he grabs my wrists with one of his massive hands. No matter how much I struggle, I can’t stop Saint from cuffing my wrists together. When Angelo reaches for my feet, I kick him with all my might, but it’s like hitting a rock.
With my arms and legs bound, I still my movements. There’s no point, and I don’t want to look even more pathetic. I bite my lip and swallow around the lump in my throat.
“The vibrator now,” Victor says.
Vibrator? I look over my shoulder at Saint. He’s holding a bright magenta vibe, the kind that’s meant to go all the way in. I squeeze my thighs tightly together, even though I know it’ll only slow the process.
“Lift up her legs for me, Angel,” Saint says.
Angelo grabs my bound ankles and pushes them up, exposing me to Saint. Still, I say nothing. Fuck them, I refuse to show them any more reactions—at least, that’s what I tell myself.
But inside? I’m terrified. My heart is racing, and it’s all I can do to stay still, like I’m shackled to something and unable to move entirely. I might as well be.
Saint presses the vibe against my hole and pushes. It’s tight, and I’m not slick at all. But that doesn’t deter Saint. He just keeps pushing. I feel it burn as it slides in, until it’s entirely inside me. It feels so heavy, despite how small it is. I’m dreading feeling the thing buzzing inside me.
I don’t even understand why they’d include that as a punishment, and I don’t want to learn… but it’s too late. There’s not a damn thing I can do about any of this, and that thought steals my breath away.
Angelo drops my legs. “The earplugs now?” he asks, and Victor nods.
All of this was Victor’s idea, I know it. I tense when Angelo grabs my hair and roughly shoves the earplugs in. They hurt a bit, but they’re effective. Everything feels muffled now, even before Saint opens his mouth to say something and all I hear is a low, indistinct sound.
I expect the vibrator to come to life, or for them to hit me, but the next thing Angelo does is pick me up. I hate feeling this helpless, not even able to struggle against him. Part of me worries they’re going to dump me in that basement room now, but that’s still better than having them pawing at me, even if the vibe starts running.
But Angelo doesn’t take me anywhere. I watch, confused, as Victor opens a trunk at the foot of the bed. More toys, maybe—
The trunk is empty.
And Angelo starts lowering me into it.
“No!” I shout, writhing in his arms, but Saint just grabs my legs and helps Angelo put me in there. “Stop! I’m sorry!” I yell.
Victor says something, but I can’t understand him.
The last thing I see before they close the trunk lid is their hard expressions.
Then it’s dark.
Fuck, fuck. Don’t panic, I tell myself. “Hey! I can help you more! I’m sorry, please!”
If they respond, I can’t hear them. It’s just me in this tiny, cramped space. The inside of the trunk is padded, at least, but that makes me wonderwhyit’s padded. Has Victor done this before, to somebody else? A regular punishment for the women he fucks? I laugh hysterically.
It’s only been a few seconds, I think. I can’t let this get to me. That’s what Victor wants. This is designed to fuck with my mind, in a way Angelo’s violence or Saint’s faux sweetness don’t.
But I hate all of them. Angelo and Saint just agreed to this because Victor said so. They’re his fucking dogs, doing his bidding without a single independent thought of their own.
I curse them, because as long as I’m angry, I can put the fear off. “Fuck all of you!” I shout. I pound on the trunk for good measure with my bound hands, but I realize the padding stops me from making much noise, too.
I can’t really stretch out my legs in this space, and something about the pose drives the vibe deeper into me. Without anything to see or hear, I’m ultra-aware of what I can feel.
Especially when the vibe suddenly starts up, hitting me in just the right spot. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to think of something else, but arousal starts growing alongside my panic. It isn’t fair. I don’t want this.
I never wanted to be part of any of this. Fuck my father and Pavone and all these macho men who think they have the right to control women.
Stay angry, I remind myself. Anger is good. Anger is active.
The vibrations get stronger, and a sob escapes me. Fuck.
