Page 14 of Savage Desires

I would rather wear any of the clothes on the second rack. Corsets, nighties, bras, and tiny panties all cover more than what these dresses will. I watch as everyone starts dressing, but I can't seem to make myself move. The sound of Madame's heels heading this way snaps me out of my daze. I dress quickly and make sure my hair is still perfect in the mirror.

I don't know how it's possible, but I feel even more naked with this sheer dress on than I have ever felt when I've been entirely nude. I hate knowing that I'm about to be marched out to be sold like they do livestock. I suppose we could be considered livestock… we're treated worse than animals, though.

Madame strides into the room and claps her hands. Everyone scrambles to form a line for her to inspect us. The five of us going to the mansion are at the end of the line. She walks down the line, making each girl step forward and spin around so they can be inspected. The same dark thought flits through my mind as always: all she needs is a little sticker with her inspector number to stick on our asses so everyone knows we passed inspection and are ready to be sold.

She finishes with the girls going to the VIP rooms and dismisses them to get started. Her cold eyes land on me, and I quickly look down at the toes of her boots. Now is not the time to fight. Later, when my new owner takes me, I'm going to give him hell, but for now, I'm going to be a perfect little slave girl.

Madame snaps her fingers, and I instantly step forward and await her instructions. After what feels like hours, she indicates she wants me to turn. She takes a step closer until I can feel the heat of her body along my back even though she's not touching me. A shiver rolls down my spine when one of her sharp fingernails drags down my back. Phantom pain floods my body at the touch.

She's dragging her nail along a scar. One that she gave me during one of the many punishments she's doled out. She enjoys reminding me of the time I spent cuffed and hanging from the ceiling at her mercy. My arms were stretched so far over my head that my toes barely touched the floor, taking the barest amount of pressure off my shoulders and arms.

She used every implement available to punish me that night. She whipped me, flogged me, caned me, paddled me… when I was sure I would die, she stopped. She left me there for hours before coming back for more. She got more creative using electricity, fire, and ice before pulling a thin blade from the inside of her boot. I thought she would end me then and there, but she didn't.

Instead, she used that knife to slice a thin line down my back. The whole time she explained how if she had it her way, it would be my face, but that the boss wouldn't like her damaging his property and that a scarred whore is worthless. The cut was deep enough to leave a scar but not cause any permanent damage. Madame loves to remind me of that day by stroking that scar. A reminder of who I am. As if I could ever forget.

I let out a shaky breath when she moves down the line to the next girl. She doesn't spend nearly as much time examining them. I don't know why she's always given me special attention. I don't want to know. Enduring is safer than questioning her or any of them, for that matter.

"Vlad, take them to the van."

"Yes, Madame," he replies.

We don't wait for him to give us orders; we fall in line, ready to follow wherever he leads us without a word. When we're outside and I see the van, I have to bite back a laugh. It screams kidnapper. It's a white panel van with no windows in the back, and the ones in the front are heavily tinted.

A man I've never seen before opens the sliding door. "Get in," he growls.

Reghan shakes from fear in front of me while she watches the other three girls stoically climb into the van. There are no seats or cushions of any kind. I secretly hope the metal floorboard is dirty and our pristine white dresses get ruined. It's Reghan's turn to get in, but she shakes her head and takes a step backward. I put my hand on her lower back and gently push her.

"It's safer to cooperate, Reghan," I whisper.

She whimpers but listens. I follow her inside and sit beside her. I grab her hand and hold it down between our legs so no one can see me comforting her. She clings to me. I do my best to exude calm determination even though my insides are all twisted up.

"You will sit still and stay silent. One fucking peep, and you'll regret it. We have a long drive, and I don't want to deal with sniveling," the same man says darkly.

None of us say anything, giving him the only response he wants—silence.

I rest my head on the side of the van and close my eyes. I let my mind drift to one of my many dreams of Kisten. I completely block out everything around me and barely feel when the van starts to move. I don't open my eyes until the van stops, and I hear the door slide open.

We're told to get out, and we don't hesitate. Even Reghan gets out without pause. I look up at the huge house we've been brought to. It's definitely a mansion. It looks so innocuous, but I know it houses the devil—or worse.

You would think I would feel anxious or scared, but now that we are here, I feel resolute in my decision to fight the person who buys me. I'm going to die anyway, and I want to die a fighter, not the submissive waif they've molded me into.

Fuck that and fuck them.

I'm going to be the Willow my father raised me to be. She was a fighter, not just a survivor. I've done what he would have wanted me to do up to this point. I've survived. Now that the end has come, I'm going to fight until there isn't any breath left in my lungs. It's been a long time since I've done any kind of self-defense training, but I've run through the moves in my mind over and over since I was taken so I wouldn't forget.

I know how to move my body, but I'm thinner than before I was taken. My reduced muscle mass will greatly limit my abilities, but that's not going to stop me from trying.

I hope whoever buys me is ready. They're getting more than they anticipate.

CHAPTER FIVE

KISTEN

My friend Todd ended up being very helpful. He told me everything I need to know about the auction and the protocols the invitees are required to follow. His information was invaluable. When the time came to end his sorry excuse of a life, I was feeling magnanimous and showed mercy, making it quick. Even though I wanted to drag it out, I had too much to do before the auction.

Lucky him.

Anticipation thrums through my veins as I exit my car and pull on my mask. When I collected Todd's invitation from his safe, there was a plain black mask that would cover the upper half of my face. It was non-threatening and unimaginative. Something you would wear to a simple masquerade party, not something sinister like a slave auction.