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The woman’s voice seemed to move, floating from corner to corner, all around Ari. She spun as she listened, but her feet tangled in the chains, causing her to trip. She dropped to the cement floor, which seemed cold despite the humidity of the room.
The fall ignited another emotion: rage. With a rush of adrenaline, Ari picked herself up and held her chest high, fists clenched to fight whatever demented soul came out of the darkness. “You want it? Come and get it! Show your face unless you’re a coward!”
A hum sounded from under the bed. The box. When it reached an ear-piercing pitch, a sizzle of electricity coursed through her body, entering at her nipples. Her body shook under the wave of electrical current moving over her skin. She couldn’t even scream. It stopped and her body dropped to the floor. She scurried to the corner, hiding in fear.
“You’re a sick fuck!” Ari tucked into herself in the shadow.
A cackle enveloped the room, blasting into her ears as if she were wearing headphones at high volume. Against her already splitting headache, the pressure was a bomb ready to explode. She cupped her hands over her ears, shielding herself from the sadistic shriek of laughter blaring from the speaker. Then nothing. Silence. More horrifying than the woman’s words was the sound of her own blood rushing to her head.
The glow of red dimmed around her and she was enveloped in a darkness so profound she couldn’t tell if her eyelids were open or closed. Time stretched into eternity as Ari surrendered to her uncertain fate. Nothing good ever came from being taken prisoner in movies. Most often, the villain intended to kill the victim. The longer she waited and the more she pondered her future, the harder it became to hold back tears. The end to her story—her demise—was certain.
Like rewinding her life, Ari struggled to find peace as she dissected the events of the past month. Every thought, every moment concluded with the same cheeky smirk: Dylan’s. But the voice resonating through the speaker didn’t belong to Dylan; that much was certain. The repeated warnings to stay away were for her protection. There was no way Dylan was behind this. She wasn’t wired that way. At the audition, she somehow knew she was safe. Hell, even at the so-called public reprimand, she didn’t fear Dylan. She feared what Maxi would compel Dylan to do. No, this was not Dylan’s doing.
Light smashed into her eyes. A bright spotlight shined on Ari, illuminating the room. Because her eyes had become so accustomed to the darkness, the floodlight blinded her, pupils contracted to pinpricks.
The woman’s voice cracked through the speaker again. “Ladies and gentlemen. Devils and sinners. I give to you the one and only, Miss Ariel Delgado. Welcome, my dear, to your very own reality show. You are the star and, by far, our most popular ever. With over five thousand fans watching, this is truly a treat!”
The notion of being watched sent a surge of anxiety coursing through her veins. Her imagination conjured up images of lurking observers, unknown eyes fixed upon her.
Ari gasped as her throat tightened. The voice took shape and materialized into a person she knew. It was the very person who instilled fear in her the moment she stepped foot in Adytum: Lady Katrina.
In an instant, fear etched itself on Ari’s face, her features contorting. “What— What do you want from me?”
“I’ve already told you what I wanted. Now it’s time to give your fans what they want. They’ve been watching you sleep for hours while watching me prepare you for your debut. By the way, those nipples are simply divine. This little electroplay is a request from down under, and I’m not talking about your little cunt, which is quite delicious if I may say so.”
Ari pulled in tight, wrapping her arms around her body as if seeking a shield from the repulsive thoughts of Lady Katrina’s mouth touching any part of her body. Waves of nausea welled up within her, threatening to overwhelm her.
“Here’s the reality of your situation, my precious. We have paying customers who want to see you perform. Isn’t that what you auditioned for ... to be a performer? Give a stellar performance and you’ll leave here with a smile on your face, but if the audience isn’t pleased, well ...” Lady Katrina’s twisted laughter resonated through the room as her words trailed off.
Even if she played Lady Katrina’s sadistic game, the likelihood of leaving this place at all seemed like an impossible feat. Still, Ari had to cling to some shred of hope. She was a survivor; she would survive. Somehow.
“Okay, Miss Delgado, it’s show time. Climb onto the bed and spread those legs for the camera.”
When Ari didn’t move, the menacing hum of current roared from under the bed. Before she could react, a jolt of electricity surged over her body again, searing her nipples. Involuntary spasms coursed through every muscle, including the one between her legs, which came dangerously close to orgasm. She gasped in agony as her back arched, fighting against the unbearable sensation until it subsided.
“Are you a fan of electroplay, Miss Delgado? Aroused by the electricity stimulating your nipples? I just hope I remember to turn down the current when I turn up the voltage next time. Now, again. Do as you are told and show your fans those slick folds. Spread them wide.”
She shuffled toward the bed, each step heavier than the last. When she reached the edge of the bed and lowered herself down, her legs gave way beneath her. Casting her gaze toward the crimson glow above the camera, it reminded her of the invisible eyes watching.
She pressed her eyes closed as she scooted back and lifted her feet, pressing them onto the worn mattress. Tears streamed down her cheek as she displayed herself. Her body, betraying her own distress, responded with an unwelcome wetness that trickled out as she displayed herself to unseen voyeurs.
“Comment from Daphne1969 says, Zoinks! She’s a little slut, getting off to this. Two fifty for her to come. So, Miss Delgado. The bidding has begun. Do you need a little electro-reminder, or can you manage to make yourself come for the audience?”
Ari’s sobs filled the room as her hand reached toward her clit. When she pressed into herself, she again squeezed her eyes closed and fought against feeling something. Maybe the woman’s words were true. Essentially, play nice and get out alive. Her mind raced to Dylan. She pictured the strong butch presence next to her, commanding her to reach a fast and feverish climax.
Dylan’s words were her mantra. “Don’t think. Just do.”
She found that space within her, the quiet. In her mind, Dylan’s voice came forward. Come for me! She submitted to Dylan’s will and circled her clit, embodying Dylan’s spirit to drive her near the tipping point.
The evil bitch pulled her back to reality. “Stop! We have a special request. Go to the chest and find the pouch with an E on it.”
Groaning to a stop, Ari moved from the bed to the treasure chest. After shuffling around for a moment, she found the requested bag and opened it. Inside was a beaded chain composed of balls that increased in size. Not quite experienced with toys, Dylan had used something like this on her, inserting two vibrating balls into her sex while she was restrained on the Saint Andrew’s cross. If this device was anything like that, it shouldn’t be a big deal.
After a drawn-out breath, she returned to the bed. Legs spread wide to insert this more complex version of Ben Wa balls into her vagina.
Another interruption boomed out of the speaker. “Oh no. Not that hole, my darling. This one goes backstage. I’m sure you’ll comply with a smile, or can I help you out by giving you an incentive?”
With that, Ari plastered a wide, overexaggerated, toothy smile on her face as she bent over and reached behind her, taking a deep breath as she did.
