Page 38 of Between Control and Chaos
I step into the shower, staring down at the dirty water curling around my feet. My shoulders are tense, my head throbs and the hot water dulls the ache for a few moments.
The shower is peaceful, tranquil.
I imagine it’s the last bit of peace and quiet that I might have.
The bathroom door breezes open. “Time’s up,” Livia commands, and the cold air rushes into the shower. I turn off the tap, having had barely enough time to fully cleanse every inch of me from head to toe.
Opening the glass door, Livia tosses the fluffy white towel at me, but not before giving me a once-over with her eyes.
“And what about clothes?”
She grabs my filthy ensemble that I wore to the bar and shoves it down the laundry chute. There isn’t enough space for a person to fit, I already checked.
“Come with me.”
I secure the towel around my chest, gripping it in the front with my hand.
My hair drips down my shoulders and back. The marble floor cold against my feet as I leave a trail of wet footprints in the hallway.
I obediently follow Livia, if only for the mere fact that I’m wearing that stupid collar and I don’t want another bolt of electricity coursing through me.
Not now.
Not ever.
Is that what it feels like to be tased?
“Where are you taking me?” I follow behind her across the hallway. She leads me to a room, it appears to be a bedroom, and opens the door, gesturing for me to step foot inside.
“There is a paper gown for you to put on. Our in-house physician will be with you shortly.”
“What?” My eyes widen in horror. “Absolutely not!”
“Do you think you get a choice?” she asks, staring at me pointedly. “We have to make sure that our girls are clean before being brought downstairs.”
Clean.
“I already showered.”
What the hell is she talking about?
Doctor. Clean.
I’m going to be sick.
It’s no secret that her husband trafficked women and children. “You want to test me for STIs.” It’s a logical guess and she smirks, tilting her head.
“Smart girl. We can’t have our clientele catching something from one of our girls.”
She reaches for my hair, fingering a strand. “Such a pretty young thing. It’s a shame you’re not a virgin. You’d have gone for a lot more than a married whore.”
I spit in her face, glaring at her.
She rips the towel from my clutches, her gaze inspecting my body as she circles me like a vulture. “It’s a pity you have stretch marks.” Livia’s fingers graze my skin, and I flinch from her touch.
“Do not touch me!” I seethe, snarling at her.
The smile never leaves her face. She’s not the least bit afraid of me, because she’s in complete control. “Or what, dear? You’ll scream. Good, many of my men like screamers. Remember that when they buy your time.”
