They stopped pretending I had any other life.
Tuesday morning the dark-haired one took my phone, my keys, and the clothes I’d arrived in. He locked them in a drawer and told me I wouldn’t need them again. The collar stayed on. The leash stayed clipped. When I needed to move from room to room, someone held the end of it.
I was the house toy now. They treated me like one.
Breakfast was the same as everything else—on my knees, mouth open, waiting. One of them fed me bites of egg between thrusts down my throat. Another bent me over the counter and f****d me while the coffee finished brewing. I came with my cheek pressed to the cold marble, the leash pulled tight so I couldn’t lift my head. They only laughed and kept going until he filled me.
By midday the apartment was full again.
Fifteen
