Going along with what the captor demands is one thing, but in my exhaustion and confusion, I went far beyond that. I wanted him not just to like me but to be proud of me, to please him, to serve him, and…I still do, dammit. It’s horribly wrong, but no one’s ever been this kind to me, which is a sad reflection on my life, not a reason to revere the trainer. I need to figure out a way to control these urges because convincing him I’ll be a great Doll won’t help me. I need him to see me as a person, as a human being, not a luxurious sex toy he’s training. Even if I secretly love parts of it. Who knew I’d enjoy sucking someone’s cock?
That’s beside the point. Once I get out of here, I can suck as many cocks as I want. Consensually. My parents can take a hike. I’m an adult, I don’t actually have to listen to them.
The revelation hits me like a truck. I don’t have to listen to my parents. I can just live my life the way I want it. How the hell did it take getting kidnapped to realize that? I don’t know what I want from life, but it’s not getting a law degree so that my parents can brag about having a lawyer in the family, especially when the husband they chose plans to make me a stay-at-home mother anyway. I don’t have to marry Mason Dickens. He’s not a bad man, just painfully stiff, and not in the fun way.
Look at me, making dick jokes. My mother would die of mortification.
Alright. I can live however I want, but only if I escape.All escape attempts will be severely punished.I wince as I remember the electroshocks from the orientation. Would the trainer do something worse? I don’t think he’d resortto something horrifying like cutting me, because that would probably diminish my market value, but the electricity was bad and I’m certain he has more things like that up his sleeves. The threat of a punishment makes the thought of escape even more daunting, but what else is there? If it were just him, I’d…
You’d what, Grace? Get on your knees for him? Let him hurt you just because he enjoys your pain?
I ignore the angry voice because the answer is too frightening to admit. Yes, I’d do all that. If I knew he’d keep me, that he wouldn’t send me to some high-paying criminal to be used and discarded, I probably wouldn’t think about escaping too hard. It’s a scary thought, yet one that feels strangely right. I didn’t mind kneeling for the trainer and letting him use me for his pleasure. I enjoyed it, even. The way he praised me, the sounds he was making, the way he finally lost his carefully maintained control and shattered for me… It’s ridiculous, but it made me feel powerful. I didn’t mind the pain when he spanked me; it pleased him, and that was all I wanted.
If the circumstances were different, I wouldn’t mind any of this, but they are what they are. He won’t keep me, which means escape is my only option, but how? This place has held other prisoners before, and I bet that they’ve already tried everything I could possibly think of. The trainer hasn’t left the apartment once, so I’ve had no chance to learn the code to open the door, and the thought of overpowering him and torturing the answer out of him is laughable at best.
I still have time, though. The orientation said I’d be with the trainer for how long, five to eight days? That means I still have at least four days to figure something out, or to get my captor on my side. With his help, I’d have a much greater chance of escaping, but how can I convince him to help me? He’s no doubt being paid handsomely for “training” me, and my family doesn’thave nearly enough money to bribe him. Not to mention that he’d likely be putting his life on the line helping me escape, too.
No one risks their life for strangers, no matter how much they beg. I’ll have to stop being a stranger. Become his friend. Not an obedient toy but a person. But how am I supposed to do that when the rules explicitly forbid me from even telling him my name, let alone anything about my life? I’m supposed to leave my old life behind, which I don’t mind—it sucked—but I’m not trading it for something worse.
What do I do?
My sluggish brain doesn’t come up with any miraculous solutions. I can’t fight the trainer, that’s for sure. Can’t resist during the “training”. Not only would it do me no good, but angering him is the last thing I need. He thinks he’s doing me a favor by teaching me how to suck cock and take things up my ass, and in a twisted way, he’s probably right. Being a near virgin, I wouldn’t survive whatever my future Master has in store for me for long.
So, I’ll be grateful. I’ll be good. He didn’t seem to mind my talking too much, so I guess the “keep your mouth shut unless there’s a cock in it” rule is mainly aimed at Dolls who talk back to their Masters or beg to be released. I can understand that from the trainer’s point of view, it must be tiresome, which is why I won’t do it. I’ll just get him to like me. Somehow. Dammit, I have no idea how to get people to like me! I haven’t even been able to get my own parents to like me, for Peter’s sake, how will I manage with a complete stranger?
Lost in thought, I don’t notice the trainer’s breathing change. It’s the sound of his bare feet on the floor approaching that puts me on high alert. My heart races as he comes closer, and guilt floods me, as if I’ve been caught doing something forbidden. And I have, haven’t I? I’ve been thinking about ways to escape, whichis a punishable offense. My shoulders ache as I squirm as if I could somehow escape the trainer’s keen gaze.
Standing over me, he frowns. “The battery on this thing is certainly not what it used to be,” he murmurs. “I’ll have to get a new one. Did you enjoy your rest, Doll?”
“Yes, Master.” Wait, was I supposed to say no? I was being punished, wasn’t I?
Before I can start panicking or, panickingmore, he moves the vibrator in and out of my pussy, completely derailing my thoughts as arousal slams into me at full force. Until now, I’ve been able to ignore it, focusing on other things, but now that he stoked those flames again, I’m burning with need.
“Hmm, completely soaked. I bet you’re desperate to come, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I all but moan out. Then I remember my resolution. Talk to him. Make him like me. “I want to come, Master, but only if you will allow it. I apologize that I even considered breaking your rules.” Except the one about escape. I’m not sorry for thinking about that. Am I?
“Hmm, chatty and well-mannered.” The words themselves are a praise, but the way he said them makes unease crawl up my spine. What did I do wrong? Holding my breath, I brace myself for a slap when he reaches for me, but he only cups my cheek. “Looks like I let you sleep a little too long.”
Right. I’m supposed to be exhausted beyond reason, too tired to think about anything except avoiding punishment. That’s some CIA-level “training”. Since it’s too late to pretend exhaustion, not that I’d be able to lie convincingly anyway, I smile. “I’m very grateful for that, Master. If you—”
My words are cut off when he squeezes my cheeks. A shudder runs through me at the cold look in his eyes. “Hmm. Should have known. One more word and I’ll gag you.”
Keeping my mouth tightly shut, I heave panicked breaths through my nose. What’s happening? What did he mean? What did I do wrong? I can even feel relieved when he unties me and finally removes the plug and the vibrator, because I feel like something much worse is coming.
Several times, I almost ask what’s wrong before remembering his threat. Since I don’t want to be gagged, I keep quiet, biting back a desperate whimper when he bends me over to the same sawhorse as…yesterday? This morning? It’s impossible to tell, not that time matters anymore. All I know is my thighs and ass haven’t had nearly enough time to heal from the last spanking, and if he uses the cane again, it’ll be brutal. But why? What did I do? Or is it just to remind me that he can do whatever he wants with my body? It doesn’t feel the same as before, when he was calm, explaining things to me, teaching me. Now, he seems angry. Disappointed.
Don’t you dare feel bad for disappointing him.
Oh, but I do. I feel awful. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it. How can I make him feel better?
Once my wrists and ankles are secured, the trainer crouches in front of me, his painful grip on my hair ensuring I can’t look away from his hypnotic gaze. “I should have known you were too perfect to be true.” He sounds so sad I want to hug him. “But don’t worry, Doll. I’ll break you and put you together again. I’ll make you perfect. Now, you’ll scream for me, and once you’re ready, we’ll look at what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”
I’m not given time to ponder his terrifying promise because in the next moment, fiery pain erupts from my ass as he strikes me with something large and flat. All of my attempts at keeping a level head fly out the window as the pain takes over.
Chapter 18
Mikhail
