Page 33 of Break Me
“Why would he get rid of her?”
“The girls who go in the padded cells usually go there for a reason. If they don’t get better within a few days, it usually means they won’t recover. So either we sell them for a cheap price or get rid of them.”
“Get rid of them how?”
“Questioning time is over.” Dax pushes me onto the mattress and leans down to inspect the piercings like he does every day. “I think it’s time to close these up. It’s been ten weeks and they’re healing nicely.”
“Ten weeks,” I parrot with shock. “That means…” I can’t even finish the sentence. I had already been here for two weeks when I got the piercings. So that means three months. Three months within these barren walls. Without the sun. Without people who aren’t miserable or oppressive. Without music. Three months without color, life, and idle chatter.
“What’s that thought?” Dax asks, nudging my head toward him as I stare off into the distance.
“I’m just tired,” I say, forcing the shock away. But Dax reads me as always.
“You’ve been here for three months. Is that it?”
Swallowing hard, I nod. It takes me a moment to decide whether to expand, but I need to get it out, so I say, “I miss it out there. The little things. Like music. Company.”
“This is part of your training. No distractions to take your mind off what matters.” He lifts his brows to punctuate the importance of his next words. “Submitting to me.”
I swallow back the knot forming in my throat and force the memory of the sun and the sound of happy people away.
“Now, get some rest,” he says, pulling the blanket over me. “It’s been a long day.”
20
EMMA
Dax closes the piercings the next day. And not just with regular rings that have bolts that are screwed in place. No, Dax wants my pussy fully and firmly shut. So he uses full rings that he solders closed. Each ring goes through two holes, one on each labia, then he closes them permanently.
He straps me down tighter than ever before, the leather around my hips and thighs so tight it digs into my skin. Then he takes great care to cover my skin around the rings with heat-proof material before starting the soldering process.
I lie deadly still while he works, not daring to move or twitch a single muscle, afraid to get the burning hot tin on my skin.
“All closed up,” Dax says after a tense half hour. Grabbing the top of my pussy, he gives it a firm pinch. “No one will get inside you until your new master decides it’s time. You’ll be as good as new. A tight little virgin.” He flicks one of the rings. “He’ll even have a barrier to breach.”
“How am I supposed to pee?” I ask in a thin voice. It seems like the least of my worries, yet it’s at the very forefront of my mind.
“No worries, little sub. I won’t make the closure very tight—just enough to prevent any penetration. You’ll just pee through them, and I’ll even leave enough room for me to access your clit.”
A myriad of different emotions rage inside me as he frees me and I get to take in the sight of my closed labia. Horror, shame, and humiliation swirl inside me. A sliver of pride at being under Dax’s control—being the one he wants to treat like a precious submissive. But most of all a sense of finality. A loss of hope. Like the closing of my pussy symbolizes the loss of my former life and autonomy more than anything—takes me one step further away from it by taking me one step closer to a life beyond these walls. A life with a new master. Without Dax.
Confusion, longing, and hopelessness become a heavy weight upon my shoulders during the next few days. Along with it, the ache for something more—the longing for what I once knew—keeps gnawing, and I can’t seem to shake it.
I often think about the woman in the padded cell and her beautiful voice. I want more of it. And not just the music. I want to know the person behind the music. The singing didn’t sound like it was coming from someone broken. It sounded… hopeful. Full of deep-felt emotion. I want to hear it again—to have a piece of that hope. Hear anything beyond the echoing screams in the halls, the thud of heavy boots, and the clanks of metal doors. It’s been so long since I heard music that I suddenly crave it with a hunger that has me itching for more.
One day, when Dax lets me wait in the hall, the itch gets particularly bad. I have no idea what Dax is doing to the woman in his chair, but I know it’s bad—it always is when he sends me out here to wait. The last time he did it, the woman was unconscious and bleeding from her mouth when he finally let me back in. Today, I can tell the horror in the woman’s screams. They tear straight through the heavy door, cutting into my ears like a fork on a plate. I’ve never heard anything like it, and I want to run. I want to hear that beautiful voice again and let it wash away the terrible sound.
I take a few steps away from the door, but it doesn’t alleviate the effect of the sound. Two more steps have as little effect. So I do something stupid. I turn in the direction of the hall where the bathing room is and walk away. The same hall where the singing girl is. It’s reckless and risky as hell. I have no idea what Dax will do if I’m not back when he comes to get me, and I have no idea what another guard will do if he finds me roaming the halls.
Pausing at the corner, I listen for sounds. When I don’t hear any, except the echoes of screams coming from Dax’s office, I step around the corner and hurry down the new hall on tiptoes.
I pause by the door to the bathing room. Dax has taken me here so many times that I easily remember which door it is. But I can’t remember which cell the singing came from. For a minute, I just stand there, listening, hoping to hear the voice. But there’s nothing. So I just stare at the green doors across the hall. One, two, and three. The cell names are marked with big white numbers on each door. Just like on mine—twelve. But these doors are a bit different in the sense that they all have a small hatch.
Suddenly, I remember what Dax said.The girl in cell one.I scurry across the floor and press my ear to the door. A smile tugs at my lips as I hear a low humming.
She’s still in there!
Straightening, I notice the hatch is closed with a simple slide bolt. I don’t think as I reach for it. I just act, sliding the bolt aside and carefully pulling the hatch open.