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This is our routine. He wakes me in the morning and relieves me in the same way an owner would a pet dog. But today he doesn’t move. He stares at me with that sadistic smile on his lips. I’m always desperate by the time he comes to me, and this morning I feel so full that I worry I’ll have an accident. My whole body has become accustomed to his training. Even my bladder works to the routine he has set. And I’m merely seconds away from it letting me down.
“Please, can you unlock the door? I need to...” I look down to where my thighs are pressed together and blush.
My trainer continues to stare at me and gradually makes one of his really wicked smirks. The one that turns my bones cold and reminds me how cruel he can be.
“I told you, it’s our last day together. Do you not think I’ve been good to you and taught you well?”
“Very good, sir.” My stomach aches from holding on. I’m desperate.
“Do you have any idea how pretty you look when you're humiliated?” he asks, but I don’t give him an answer. I have to concentrate. “Do you not think that I deserve that privilege one more time?” He steps closer, close enough that his body crushes into mine, and I feel his palm on my stomach, applying just enough pressure to the exact spot where I’m struggling to hold control over. I do everything I can to stop the tears when I feel that heavy pressure inside me lessen, and a steady trickle soaks down my legs. My trainer breathes me in while I sob, his nose in my hair and his lips touching my ear as he releases a satisfied sigh.
Eventually, he takes a few paces back to admire the wet puddle between my legs, moving his glance up to where my panties stick to my skin. His eyes move to his shiny black shoes that are also ruined by my accident, and a feeling of dread creeps up my spine.
“You’ve made a mess,” he sneers, and I swallow the urge to argue back at him. It will only make things worse. “It’s a shame I am forbidden to send you to your new owner with marks. He will want his new toy to be a clean canvas that he can make his own mark on.”
My trainer looks up at the ceiling, acting as if he’s coming up with another solution to the problem. Realistically, we both know he knows exactly what’s going to happen. This man has been my only focus for as long as I’ve been here. I’ve studied him. I can predict his reactions, I know his expressions.
The one he’s wearing now is most definitely satisfaction.
“Come to me,” he orders, and immediately I take two steps closer. “On your knees.” He lowers his eyes from mine to the ground, and my body automatically follows them. “Now clean my shoes, Muñequita.” He pauses as I close my eyes and wait for it. “…with your tongue.”
I could beg him not to make me. He’d like that. Pleading is what my trainer feeds on because it's against the rules, and he gets to punish me for it. So I take the small pleasure in taking that away from him. If I comply, he’ll have no reason to punish me, and punishment is his favorite game. Placing my hands on the floor on either side of his feet, I lower my head. The smell of fresh polish and urine hits my nostrils and the back of my throat at the same time, but I fight past the urge to retract.
“Nah, ah, ah,” he taunts me further. “Look at me while you do it. Give me those big, pretty blue eyes.”
Again, I comply, lying my body flat on the floor so I’m able to look up at the man I despise at the same time that I lick his shoes clean. The bitter taste assaults my tongue, and the sickening smile he bestows me with while he watches makes me hate him that little bit more.
“You’re a good girl.” He bends his body and pulls me up from the ground, using a fistful of hair from my nape.
“Please, can I have my shower, sir?” I keep my eyes on the floor as I speak. I’m sure he’s going to deprive me of that privilege today, too.
“Not today, today will be different from all your others.” His boney finger slides between my chest while his other hand takes a phone from his suit pocket. I’ve never seen him with a phone in here before. And I ask myself how I even know what one is when I have no recollection beyond this room?
“Send her in,” he speaks harshly into the phone before snapping it shut and tucking it back into his suit.
“Tonight is your time to be put up for auction.” He starts to pace in front of me. “We have a selection of buyers, all valued customers. Over time, we have come to learn what specifications those customers have,” he explains before pausing to look at me.
“You have been trained specifically to suit a particular type of buyer. He has already been told about you and is very much looking forward to meeting with you.” I take in a breath as he continues. “Of course, he will have to bid for you like all the others, but rest assured, he will not stop pressing his button until you belong to him.”
“Why me?” The words seem to come out by themselves.
“You instinctively obey in a way that can’t be trained, not even by me. Your innocence has been preserved for this very reason. You will not disappoint.”
There’s a knock at the door, and I feel my heart beat faster in my chest.
“Come in,” my trainer calls out without taking his eyes from mine, and when the door opens and another female steps inside, I get an overwhelming sense of hope.
For so long, I’ve existed in this empty room with locked doors and no windows. I’ve never had to be chained because there was no way of escape. Believe me, I’ve tried looking.
“This is Clara,” my trainer introduces the timid-looking girl behind him whose head remains lowered. She’s short, no taller than 5ft 4, and looks professional in the white tunic and matching trousers she’s wearing.
“Clara here will prepare you for this evening. She will bathe you, dress you and make your hair acceptable.”
“Please don’t cut my hair.” I almost snap my neck looking up at him. I don’t know why it means so much to me to keep it, why I suddenly feel like crying at the thought of losing it. It hurts my head too much when I try to remember things that feel unfamiliar.
“She will not cut your hair,” he assures me as he takes one of my matted locks in his hand.
“Do what you can, Clara.” He turns his attention to the girl, “Speak to her, and I will cut out your tongue and sew your mouth shut.” His threat is sinister and convincing.
