The card falls from my fingers, floating down to land on the desk.
Obedience. Skill. Devotion.
Performances.
They're going to parade us like show dogs.
Like trained animals performing tricks for an audience.
And Vaughn?—
Oh God.
The vibrator. The books. The patience.
The questions about what I want, what I'm ready for, what feels good.
The way he touches me just enough to make me want more.
The way he's teaching my body to respond to him.
He's training me.
Not to liberate me.
Not to help me heal from the Sanctuary's damage.
Not because he cares about my pleasure or my recovery.
To perform.
To demonstrate in front of a room full of men who buy women like I was bought.
To prove he's successfully trained his acquisition to be obedient and skilled and devoted.
To show off his investment.
My stomach lurches violently.
I press my hand against my mouth, fighting nausea that threatens to overwhelm me.
Three weeks.
The gathering is in three weeks.
And tonight—tonight he's going to "show me more."
Going to continue my training.
Going to teach my body to respond to him so perfectly, so completely, that I'll be able to perform on command for an audience of predators.
I am so fucking stupid.
So incredibly, pathetically, desperately stupid.
I thought maybe he was different.
Thought maybe the patience meant something real.
