#EXPOSED

CHAPTER - 31

Blue blood. 

Aagnay

Mr. Delgado held the papers out to me and I took it and glanced at the red ink on the header. "A-?" As I read, my grip tightened around the edges until I crumpled the papers. "But..." It was redundant to argue with my caregiver. "Gracias."

As I pivoted to exit the room, he rounded my hips, covering his hands on mine as he reached my ear. "You know what you have brought upon yourself kid." His low whisper accompanied his breaths near my ear and the back of my neck began to prickle with cold sweat. "You know what comes next."

Wrong. It was wrong and it made me sick. I pushed forward but he trapped me in his arms. "Strip." I twisted my head to meet his gaze in disbelief. "Right here and right now."

My gaze drifted to my peers in the room and the sick feeling intensified. "No, please don't—"

"I said, strip," he demanded harshly this time and began to remove my jacket forcefully. "This is what you get when you choose to slip. There's no place for mediocrity in this world. You'd rather die than live with flaws," he hissed as he loosened the knot of my tie and I crushed the papers in my hands. I caught his hand to stop him, to defy him and protest him but he was quick to deflect my moves. "Don't push it," he ordained. "Someday you will realize how much you needed this."

I'd never felt the need to be exploited in exchange for perfection. I didn't want that. I wanted my friends—my life was in Mumbai—Spain wasn't for me.

"Don't think too much," he coaxed as he began to unbutton my shirt and my hands dropped to my sides. "You're only a trash." He threw my garments on the desk-top and I stepped back to fight him off. Murmurs and laughter coalesced into the thick air in the room as I began to tremble. "The next time you decide to slip, remember that this is what you get for being an utter piece of garbage."

The skin on my exposed torso crawled as he removed the shirt. The last strand of restrain broke loose and my chest heaved as my shirt dropped near my feet on the linoleum floor. The roar of my blood coursed through my ears as my head bowed down in unbearable shame.

"How many times?" His pants were heavy near my ear and I closed my eyes to shut his voice out. "How many times do I have to administer this for you to understand that you can't lose?" The sharp hiss of the zipper tore through me and my jaw steeled. "Hold your hands behind."

I deserved it. I was worthless—even my parents didn't want me.

He tugged my slacks down in a swift movement until I was starkly naked—naked in front of a room half-filled with people—my peers. The silence that followed was a steady dribble in the air and my chest burned in an unbearable need to scream.

"Now stroke," he demanded and the world was lost under the roar of blood in my pounding heart. "Stroke yourself until you come." My hands trembled and I stepped back from him. I wanted to apologize but I was so surprised and disbelieving that I barely struggled when he was rounding me with his predatory strides.

His hands covered mine on my penis as he urged me to stroke myself on full display. His eagerness made me feel dirty—worthless. The laughter in the air was next, billowing like a sandstorm that choked me; I couldn't breathe—

I jerked awake in my bed with an audible gasp and sat up with a rush. I threw the duvets off my feet and the breeze from the air conditioner swayed across my sweat-soaked skin. I couldn't breathe through the panic, blind with terror and searing pain that crushed my chest. I fumbled for the switch of the lamp on the nightstand and a sharp groan cut through me as the light flared through the space of my room.