"That's it, baby," he continues, his tone almost soothing, despite the filth spilling from his lips. "Take my cock. Take all of it."
Baby.
My belly flutters, my heart soaring like a fool even though I know it's a runaway utterance. A thoughtless spi...
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There are times in life when absolutely nothing makes sense.
When nothing goes right.
When everything seems out of place.
Wrong-side up.
Inside-out.
Surreal.
Impossible.
And, yet, you know it's real. That it's happening...to you.
Even though you can't truly comprehend how it could be.
For me—Ramona Lisa Gallo, a simple, twenty-four-year-old college student—this is one of those times.
I blink absently in the darkness, my head fuzzy, my skin prickling. The taste of rubber fills my mouth, cool, dense leather spreading my lips taut, forcing them ajar. I struggle to swallow around the ball lodged against my tongue and fail, suddenly aware of just how securely the straps have been fastened behind my head. I never thought something that's literally all smooth curves could be so hard and imposing; the kind of novel sensation that I would happily go through life without knowing. It feels indescribably invasive. Almost brutal. Like its owner.
But I don't think I could bring myself to speak even if I was able to. To make a single sound.
I don't know how long I stay like this; in a seemingly infinite loop of time where there's no beginning and no end. Where the distinction between reality and fantasy somehow...disappears.
No, not fantasy.
Horrific simulation.
Part of me feels like I'm dreaming. Like none of this is actually transpiring. I mean...how did I get here? Really?
What the fuck do you mean, how did you get here? the voice in my head spits. That motherfucker put you here, remember? And the only reason he could do that is...well...your dumb ass told him he could. When you signed his contract. Remember that?
My eyes slam shut against the memory, and I wish I could bleach my brain free of it. Maybe it's a good thing my hands are cuffed, otherwise I'd probably strangle myself for doing something so stupid.
God, if I'd known it'd be like this...
What, you wouldn't have signed it? Huh? the voice jumps in again.
The question hangs over my head like a wet, stinky towel, spawning a myriad of others.
Would I have turned it down if I knew I would have to endure everything I just did? And likely more? Would I have had the strength to say no and find another way? A better way? A more dignified way? Did I make the right choice? Did I—
