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“You’re not allowed to do anything except clean her up, Rigo,” the guard warned. He glanced at his partner. “We’ll stay here and supervise—to make sure you follow orders.”
Apparently, I’d have an audience watching whatever this cleansing routine turned out to be. The new guy was a whole lot scarier than the soldiers, so having armed guards to supervise him came as the best news I’d had in a while.
The guards shoved me into the room. I glanced around in surprise. Instead of the dark cavern I expected to see, it looked more like a typical medical facility inside. White walls, white ceiling with pipes and wires running along it, beige floor with a shiny solid surface, metal cabinets lining three walls—after all the gray, it was almost blinding. The only thing I saw that I didn’t like was the metal table sitting in the center of the room, directly over a grate in the floor.
So of course that’s where they led me.
I thought about attacking the guards when they got on either side of me to lift me onto the table, but there was no way I could take down both of them and Rigo too. As soon as they strapped my wrists to the tables, I regretted that I hadn’t even tried. I yanked my leg back to kick one but he laughed and dodged the kick, then pulled my boot off and buckled my ankle into a metal stirrup at the foot of the table. His partner did the same with my other ankle.
The guards took up positions on either side of the table, facing me. I could see myself reflected in the dark shields on their helmets. Pale, dirt-streaked face framed by a straggly mess of long reddish brown hair that hadn’t seen a comb in days. Eyes cold and hard, mouth set in a stubborn line. I was determined to take whatever they had in store for me without showing any sign of weakness.
Rigo had his back to me across the room, pulling items out of the cabinets and placing them on a gleaming metal cart. He pushed the cart over to the table where I was strapped down, picked up a wicked-looking knife, and tested the blade against his thumb. A narrow line of red welled up.
“I love my job,” he declared. Then he slipped the blade of the knife under the sleeve of my shirt. My stomach clenched when the cold metal touched my wrist.
With a practiced flick, he slit the fabric all the way to my shoulder.
I let my breath out in a whoosh.
“Did you think I was going to cut you into pieces?” Rigo sounded amused. The vacant look in his eyes that made him look like a half-wit was gone. “I’ll admit I used to do that to the occasional patient when I worked at the hospital back on Earth.” He shook his head sadly. “That’s how I ended up here. But you’re far too valuable for me to indulge my hobby with you. A beautiful young woman is a rare treat on Zibaru.”
He walked around the table, motioning the guards to step back, and did the same thing to my other sleeve. Leaning over, he sliced away the rest of the fabric until all that was left of my shirt was the collar and a narrow band over my breasts, held together by three buttons. I fought to keep from trembling every time the blade grazed my skin.
One by one he popped the buttons off with the tip of the knife, prolonging the act. Fear gave way to embarrassment when my breasts were finally exposed. Though I couldn’t see their expressions, I heard one of the guards let out a low grunt when he got his first look at my bare tits.
The locket I wore caught Rigo’s attention. He turned it from side to side, admiring the way the shiny surfaces caught the light and sent it dancing around the room. I bit my tongue, afraid if I let him know how important it was to me, he’d be more likely to take it from me.
He popped it open. Stared at the pictures inside.
“Is this your mama?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice to speak.
“She’s pretty. Like you.” A wistful expression flashed over his face. “I had a mama once. She was pretty too.”
“Get on with it,” snapped one of the guards.
Rigo snapped the locket closed and the hint of humanity I’d seen disappeared.
He examined the scratches I’d gotten when they marched me through the jungle to the transport ship, some of them streaked with dried blood. “Such a pity,” he murmured. I shivered when he traced one that ran from my ribcage to my right nipple with the tip of his finger. “This may leave a scar.”
I tried to hide my revulsion when he cupped my breasts in his huge hands to inspect them.
“Healthy, full, and firm,” he announced, as though the guards were taking notes. He squeezed a nipple between two fingers, rolling it. To my shame, my body responded. He nodded in approval when it tightened into a peak. “Stimulation reaction normal.”
When he took a bottle of clear liquid from the tray and began pouring it on my chest, I couldn’t hold back a hiss. Every scratch felt like he’d set me on fire.
“Disinfectant,” he said. “We have to kill whatever contamination you may have brought here. Warden’s orders. He wouldn’t want to pick up any nasty disease. Though you’re far more likely to get one from him.” Chuckling at his own wit, he picked up a cloth, folded it into a small square and poured more of the liquid onto it. Then he started dabbing away at my face and neck.
He was surprisingly gentle, but every swipe seemed to find a new cut or scrape to set on fire. I gritted my teeth and stared at the ceiling, concentrating on taking slow breaths in and out.
Next, he worked his way up both of my arms. I had deeper scratches there. Lucky for him, my wrists were restrained. Otherwise I’d probably have clawed jagged scars on his face to go with the ones on his head. Anything to make him stop finding new places to spread the fiery sting.
When he’d cleaned those wounds to his satisfaction, he picked up the knife again. I heard the guard make another grunt when Rigo stepped to the end of the table and slid the tip of the knife under the hem of my pants. Fucking perv.
Rigo removed my pants the same way he removed my shirt. But slower. First he sliced the legs along the inner seams, then he ran his hands up my legs and cut the fabric away, raising a trail of goosebumps on the inside of my thighs. He left a scrap no wider than a scarf around my hips to hide my crotch while he thoroughly cleaned all the cuts and scratches on my legs. Playing a fucking mind game with the guards while he tormented me. Prolonging my humiliation. I glared at him, running through every cuss word I could think of in my mind. In my vulnerable position I didn’t dare say them out loud.
He gave me a lewd grin. His next remark made me doubt my earlier estimation of his intelligence.
