Filthy Secret

TESTED

The ordeal was neverending. I’d been braced for the brutality, for the sickening expectations of the men who seized us, but nothing had prepared me for the head fuck-the desperate sense of longing I experienced when Dylan was close, the heat furling at my core, the intensity of the climaxes, and the craving for more-all of which were dashed every time he got what he wanted and left me gagged, bound, and alone. It was as if my hopes were elevated with each meaningless caress, only to be crushed when I was abandoned.

It made no sense to feel this way. It was ridiculous to expect any salvation from a man as ruthless as him, but I couldn’t resist the maelstrom. The gleam in his eyes had such potential. Maybe he would take pity on me? Have enough mercy to let me go?

I shook my head against the bedding, ignoring the brimming tears. Of course, he wouldn’t do that. Dylan had been clear about his intentions. He was in this for the money-as well as the hassle-free sex. There was no way he was my savior. No way any man would save me.

“Right.”

I tilted my head, watching as he placed a washing-up bowl on the floor by the wall.

“It’s time.”

Trepidation twisted in my tummy as he turned and headed in my direction. Tugging at the knots he’d secured at my wrists, he freed me from the bed, jerking me to the floor with the rope still attached to the leather at my neck. I landed on my knees, scrambling toward the bowl as he led me.

“Squat over it.” He pointed to the bowl. “I need urine to run the test.”

My breathing accelerated as I realized what he meant. Not only had he taken and used me, but now he intended to denigrate me further by making me relieve myself here, in front of him. I might have begged for clemency had the dreaded gag not prevented my plea. My head fell as I clambered into place.

Dylan relaxed in his comfortable chair, gripping the end of the rope as I got into position. Surely, this was the most miserable moment of my life.

Being on the run had been desperate, but it had given me meaning, but this -what was this? I was only property, bound and expended, made to perform until my sole purpose had been achieved. I shivered, trying to relax as he glanced back at me.

“Come on.” He sounded irritated. “I don’t have all day.”

I eyed him wildly, humiliated as my lips stretched around the ball, and I tried to relax. It wasn’t easy to give him what he wanted when I was this exposed and het up, my muscles contracting rather than relaxing.

“What?” he demanded impatiently, leaning toward me as though I was being impertinent by not urinating on command.

Heaving in a breath, I closed my eyes, blocking out his glare as I tried to calm myself. Slowly, I ceded, the noise of the liquid filling the bowl mortifying.

“Finally,” he growled, pulling me back onto all fours. Securing the rope to the bedpost, he bound me before turning away. He collected the bowl and placed it on the table, fiddling with one of the new fancy pregnancy tests that would determine my fate. My breath hitched as he pulled one from the packaging, lifting it into the air. Its result would decide what became of me, whether I was fed and made to bear a child, who would become another pawn of the system or sent back to the metal bars to be used by one of the others. It wasn’t much of a choice. Tension tore at my insides as he dipped the strip into my urine.

“It only takes a minute. This little piece of plastic is so sensitive, it can detect even the faintest quantity of hCG.”

I wasn’t sure what the commentary was for. I’d heard all the propaganda before I ran-all about how wonderful the state’s investment in the pharmaceutical company creating the tests was, about how it had revolutionized conception and was building a better world. My stomach churned at the memory of the old radio ads as I watched the side of Dylan’s face. He didn’t make eye contact with me, all his attention on the strip between his fingers while I huddled against the side of the bed. The blowby-blow account was doing nothing to quell my nerves.

For a fleeting moment, I considered untying the knot he’d made and freeing myself, my heart racing at the idea of liberation before the thought was pulverized by a large dose of reality. Where was I going to go with my newfound freedom? Would I make it to the door before he noticed, and what would become of me when he did? That fear alone was enough to keep me in my place.

“Well, well…”

I couldn’t decide if his tone was pleased or disappointed, the suspense scratching at my stomach until I couldn’t pull in another breath.

“It looks like we did it.” Dylan flashed me a grin, waving the strip of plastic in the air. “The line is weak, but it’s there.”

My belly tightened, panic pinballing as he placed it down and wandered toward me.

“Congratulations, Mum.”

Oh God. Pressing my palms into the floor, I resisted the urge to rip the gag from my mouth and scream. Oh God, I was pregnant.

Striding past me, I barely noticed as he unfettered the rope, tugging it in his hand.

“Stand up.”

Overwrought, I climbed to my feet on shaky legs.

“Take my hand.”

He thrust out his palm, time protracting as I contemplated the gesture. What did this mean? Was he happy? Would I be rewarded? Or now that he had what he wanted from the bargain, would I just be flung over his shoulder and taken back to my cage? My hand trembled as I lifted it into his, every fiber of me unsure. Dylan was no hero, but he had offered me some solace in the confines of these four walls. He’d stopped the other bullies from getting their hands on me, and even though he’d treated me like shit, I had the distinct impression this was the best of a list of bad situations.Original from NôvelDrama.Org.

“Sit down.”

Guiding me to his chair, he shoved me on the seat before gripping the length of rope and running it behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see him securing it to the seat fixture.

“Stay there.” His lips twitched as his gaze ran over my naked body. No doubt he was anxious to make sure his bonus stayed secure. “I’m going to get you something good to eat.”

“Ir.” It was the first time I’d tried to speak, my throat dry as I gestured to the gag.

“Can I trust you to be quiet this time?” One dark eyebrow arched at his wry tone, and I nodded my head wretchedly.

“Okay.”

He took a step in my direction, sighing as he reached for the strap and eased the ball from my lips. My jaw ached with relief as the object that had silenced me for so long fell to my collar.

“Better?”

“Thank you, Sir.”

I could hardly believe I was offering gratitude to the man who had gagged me, but there it was. I was grateful, appreciative in this batshit crazy world where I was obliged to procreate, it had been with him and not the brute who’d dragged me from the cage. Glad he’d at least given some thought to my pleasure in the process. I’d been around the block enough times to know it could have been much, much worse.

“Hey, you’re getting good at this.”

I tensed at his leering smirk, unable to meet his eyes, but the worst was he might be right. It was easier capitulating than I’d realized. I’d always assumed I would fight or die trying, but when push had come to shove, it had been better to cede. A wave of despondency washed over me as the thought registered. I had done this. I had yielded, and now I was pregnant. I wasn’t the only one who would have to live with consequences. There would be a life growing inside me who would be privy to this sickness-an innocent with no one to protect them once they had been ripped from my womb.

I inhaled a shaky breath, wishing he would just go-leave me to my misery. Head bowed, I struggled with the rising emotion, watching his feet as they headed for the door. It wasn’t until I heard the key turn in the lock that I allowed the tears to fall, their number coming hard and fast as my despair was laid bare. In this troubled land, my hopelessness was the only thing I had left to keep me strong.