A sharp whack on my side tells me that isn’t the correct response. “Don’t push!”
The head Spinner appears in front of me, a gag in her hand. Instead of a ball like I’d seen in the movies, this one has a dildo. “She needs throat training sooner than usual, according to Protector Adam.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The enema Spinner reaches for the contraption.
“I’d like to administer this myself.” The head Spinner holds the black dildo in front of my face. “Open.”
I don’t want to. But I don’t have an option. I open.
The Head Spinner shoves it into my mouth.
I gag, but she straps it around my head and buckles it at the back. Using my teeth, I try to bite down and push it with my tongue, but it only makes me gag more. An odd sense of claustrophobia sets in. I could die like this. Choke on my spit. Asphyxiate. All while the Head Spinner stares at me with a coldness that terrifies me.
I close my eyes and focus on breathing through my nose. In, out. In, out. The tube snakes farther up my ass, warmth filling the space and forcing me to clench my cheeks to keep it all in.
“I want to leave.” A small voice from one of the tables to my right.
I don’t look up. I have to focus on my breathing or I’ll die. I know it. The pressure keeps building in my ass as spit drips down my chin.
“Please, let me leave.”
I want to warn her. To tell her it’s too late for that. There is no way out of here. It’s a trap, and once it closes around its victims, the bars are permanent. When I hear a thud and she starts screaming, I keep my breaths steady. In, out. Another scream and someone else is crying. In, out.
“You are here to serve the Lord. You made an oath, and I and my sister Spinners are here to make sure you keep it.” The Head Spinner’s voice is oddly serene. “We will save you from the fires of hell despite yourselves. Now stop your sniveling and get back on the table.”
“Why? I thought we were here to—”
Another thunk and a squeal of pain. “You are here to do as we say, as is commanded by the Prophet!”
Several of the girls cry, their eyes awash in shock. They truly believed they’d be safe in the Cloister, that they’d remain untouched, unmarred. Fools.
I walked into this trap, fully aware of the bars and the rusted metal bits that promised pain and despair. I did it for Georgia.
I will find her killer. And then I will repay what happened to her with blood.
Chapter 6
Adam
She sits on the bed, her gaze downcast, as I enter the room. Red lines run along each of her cheeks. The Spinners did the throat training as I’d instructed.
I close the door behind me and flip the lock.
She doesn’t move, doesn’t strip and drop to her knees as I instructed.
I sigh and slip my belt from its loops. That catches her attention. She looks up, the same fire in her eyes I saw yesterday.
“Take it off.”
She knows I mean her white dress. I’m wearing black pants and a dark blue button-down shirt—my business attire. The all-white charade has ended for me. Not for her, though.
“Why?” The word is barely a breath from her pink lips.
“Didn’t the Spinners tell you not to ask questions?” I slide the belt through my palm, it’s top grain, soft like butter when it moves slowly. Fast is another story.
“What are you going to do?” Her eyes lock with mine.
“Tonight, I’m going to have to give you an obedience lesson. After that, we’ll see.”
“I’m not a dog.”
The challenge in her voice sends a current through me that ends in my cock. It stiffens, nudging against the front of my pants.
“You’ve already put three strokes onto the agenda.” I let the belt hang at my side. “Would you like another?”
She swallows hard.
“Take off your dress and get on your hands and knees like a good dog.” My heart careens against my ribs, drunk on the thought of her naked flesh reddened with my belt.
With one more look that telegraphs a pure, undiluted hatred, she stands and pulls her dress off. Inch by inch, I take in every delicious bit of skin.
“I see the Spinners jumped right into the waxing routine.” I stare at the bareness between her legs, the skin still pink and irritated. I want to run my lips, my tongue, my cock all over it.
She says nothing and climbs onto the bed, keeping her thighs together and crossing her ankles she lets out a breath. Her hair cascades on either side of her face, hiding her from me.
I move to stand behind her. When I get the full view of her bare pussy, my mouth waters. It’s a perfect pink tulip, the untouched center likely the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Gripping the belt tighter, I focus on her discipline. She’s a thing, not a person. I began telling myself that little mantra when I became a Protector for the very first time. It was the only way I could do what was necessary. Now, I realize how empty it is, how diseased I’ve become. I want to strike her. I salivate for it.