Forced to Change Ch. 09

True to his word, Jared didn't touch me, at least not with his hands. His eyes raked over my face and body so much it still felt like he broke his promise. Still, I couldn't place his face because he reminded me so much of Paul. It had been a long time since anyone looked at me the way he did. I felt completely naked even while covered from head to toe because of the way his blue eyes watched me. Under different circumstances I might have been flattered by the attention.

My eyes squeezed shut with concentration and pain. My arms ached, especially my shoulders, but the pain in the back of my head had leveled off to something dull. I was sure it would flare again at the slightest touch, but for now it was mostly my arms and wrists. I'd only managed to slide one sleeve up enough that the belt was now cutting into my wrist. No matter how I twisted and turned my hands I couldn't get them free.

I tried to push thoughts of my past out of my head, but being bound and driven in the dark to destinations unknown had me reliving ghosts first unleashed by thinking of Paul earlier. I remembered his smile and the way his left eye was a slightly darker blue than his right eye. Seeing an older almost-doppelganger had me thinking of Paul's dimples and his voice, broken, deep, but soft and sweet. When he died, Paul's face had just started to lose that look of youth that I'd known all through high school.

Paul had died. I'd watched him die, a memory that was too easy relived every time I thought of the boy I loved. There were far worse things to think of, though. It was what happened after I'd been driven away from his body that I feared most. That was the reason I still woke up in a cold sweat, less often these days but originally every time I closed my eyes.

I hated Darkie. As for Jared, the jury was still out. They had both managed to make me feel powerless even though I'd done everything to prevent it from happening again. There was a spark of something else going on with Jared. Even bound, with nothing in my control, I felt like, given the chance, Jared would help me.

I'd started off hating everyone in Cantana too. In the end, though, I had a secret to hide about everything I'd been through. There were things I still couldn't admit, even to myself. I'd felt so useless and empty, and now with my internal survivor mantras singing through my head, I still felt useless and empty. As much as I wished I could forget it, Cantana plagued my every thought.

***

Paco approached the set of double metal doors. I shuddered. With everything that had happened to me so far, I couldn't get my brain wrapped around what was going on. I felt rooted to the spot. I couldn't stop trembling or crying as dread and despair froze me in place. I didn't want to imagine what would happen next. It seemed impossible that this was my reality.

Paco flung the doors open and quickly returned to me. He fluffed my hair, then pushed me to my knees. "You crawl to Commandant quick. Always quick, remember?"

I nodded and placed my hands in front of me. My eyes were cast down and my vision was distorted from my tears. I put one hand in front of the other. After a deep breath I moved forward. Inside was a mess hall. Hundreds of eyes watched me as I crawled between the two long tables at which men and women sat eating, talking, and laughing. Their voices were a dull din underneath the sound of my pulsing heart thudding violently, as if it was trying to get out of my chest.

I passed three people before someone's leg blocked my progress of complete humiliation and subjugation. Someone behind me slapped my ass cheeks, making them smart and sting. I bit off my scream. I was more surprised than hurt. New tears streamed as I rushed forward, trying to get away. Another hand slapped my bottom. I crawled over the blocking leg, not really seeing the person it was attached to as his booted foot caressed between my legs. He laughed. Someone else bent down and pinched me as I passed. My skin crawled as hands pressed into my breasts and squeezed.

"No! No!" I wanted to scream as I moved forward slowly. "Stop touching me!" I begged in my mind. I rushed through the throng to escape those exploring hands, sobbing quietly. Finally I reached the stairs of the platform where an imposing figure sat like a king on high in what could only be described as a throne.

To one side of him stood a beautiful woman with long, dark, flowing hair. She wore a thin white cloth that hung over her voluptuous hips, barely concealing her sex. The scarf was tied so loosely it seemed a breath would make it fall off.

For one moment I felt relief. It was Lana Rios. She'd worked with my father. I didn't understand what she was doing here. She was a new hire last year and had only worked at Greenwich Country for a few months before the end of the school year. She'd been a lousy worker, according to my father, and he'd fired her. But why was she here?

Seeing her, I felt betrayed. Her involvement could only mean one thing and I didn't like it. Lana fed the man by hand as he fondled her naked breasts. He took no notice of me, for which I was grateful as I ascended the stairs.

His body was large—not fat, just solid bulk. His chair looked as if it were the only one that could accommodate his size. Black hair as dark as night was pulled back from his face in such a way I couldn't guess its length. His bushy brows were knitted together as he ate the offered food, sucking the juices from Lana's fingers one by one.

His eyes were dark, almost black, and his mouth and chin were covered by a neatly trimmed goatee. He wore an olive green button down shirt over matching pants, like the rest of the men who'd taken me away from the other students. The color was only broken by a thick black leather belt with a shiny silver buckle. The bottoms of his pants were tucked into black combat boots.

His image scorched itself on my brain and I felt something burning deep inside me at the sight of him. It was a feeling I'd never had for another human being. That was it. He wasn't a human being. He was a soldier, a powerful leader, and it made it that much easier for me to define the heat pulsing through me. It was hatred, pure and uncensored. I hated him and I let my hatred fill my eyes and spill across the space between us.

He recognized the look on my face. His hand slashed me hard across the cheek which sent my head and thoughts spinning. I hated him more, if possible, for striking me. The tears poured from my eyes in a hot drip of passionate loathing. Everything about him said power. I had no doubt who he was from the moment I saw him: The Commandant.

It took very little time for me to realize I was the Commandant's property, his toy. Not a person but some animal to be used in front of and for the amusement of brutal strangers. I cast my eyes down and rested my head on my forearms, begging in my mind for him to ignore me. I realized this left my freshly spanked ass and shaved sex exposed to the room, but I was beyond caring as overwhelming exhaustion took over my body. All of it seemed so unbearable and at the same time I was wracked with grief. This man I didn't even know was going to take my virginity and now I couldn't fathom why Paul and I had waited.

Paul and I met when I was struggling with advanced biology my freshman year. After we started dating I think my being two years younger than him kept him cautious until the prom night fiasco. None of those things mattered anymore because I was here, proffered at the feet of a monster. It seemed so stupid now to have waited with Paul. I hated the Commandant for not being Paul. I hated myself for getting Paul killed. My anger was consuming and draining.

I lost time again or maybe I fell asleep. I was being lifted under my arms by the mostly-naked Lana. My face and body felt heavy with fatigue as she raised me up to my knees to look into the dark colorless eyes of the Commandant.

He stared at me in a way that was almost a challenge. I tried to clear my face of my overwhelming emotions. He snapped his fingers. I flinched, fearing he'd hit me again and he smirked at my reaction. Lana released me and scurried away. She returned with a huge red pillow and set it beside his chair opposite the little table with his dinner.

The Commandant spoke to her and away she went. His hand was held out to the pillow almost pointing at it. He looked at me. I wanted to scowl at him but didn't, fearing another slap. Was I meant to sit on the pillow like a dog? His face darkened and he barked something at me. I moved to it and knelt, facing the hall of diners.

Lana returned carrying a silver tray. She went down on her knees before me and I could see two golden bells with clamps attached to them. I closed my eyes, fresh tears falling down my cheeks as I grasped what she meant to do. I had a million questions she could answer, but as she looked through me I knew she was not my friend.

She set the tray on the floor between us, then leaned toward me. Her hands gripped my shoulders lightly as she sucked my nipple into her mouth. I gasped, shocked at my body's traitorous response as it puckered. My mind felt crazed and my body flushed with humiliation.

She attached the first bell. A biting pain exploded in the tip of my breast, sending patterns of warmth and electricity through my body to my core. She did the same to my other nipple, then sat back and admired her work. She smiled as she fondled my breasts, murmuring softly as I sobbed and shook, causing the little bells to give off their light ting, ping, tink sound.

The sound of the bells grated on my nerves as much as the continuous pulsing pain. She slapped my breasts and the soft tinkle became more of a thudded jangle. Paco's warning wouldn't leave my thoughts at this critical moment. My responses were life or death and I wanted to live to see another day, even if that day were going to be pure hell. I moaned loudly behind my sealed lips.

The Commandant said something to her and she reluctantly left me alone. I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, hating her enjoyment of my discomfort. The bells continued making a soft tinkling sound with each breath. The pain was excruciating and like a noise in my head. I shifted to my side, trying to find a way to settle on the pillow that didn't put any pressure on my ass or cause the irritating chiming of the bells. I finally sat leaning my weight on my left thigh, shoulder, and arm against the chair. I started when the Commandant's hand touched my head; his fingers ran through my hair, petting me almost absentmindedly. My skin crawled.

Lana returned with two small bowls. One was filled to almost overflowing with some kind of stew, meat, carrots, and potatoes in a thick dark brown broth. The other, I discovered, was some kind of red wine that had a sweet taste, but with a bitter element. I lapped at them hungrily. I was starved and thirsty. I ate and drank like a greedy dog.

As degrading as it was, I appreciated being fed as my tears salted the flavor of the meal. When I finished lapping up all there was I sat as I had before and his hand once again petted me.

The diners finished their meals and were talking, joking around, lighting cigars and cigarettes, and turning in their seats to face the platform. I was lulled by his hand in my hair as he sipped from a goblet with Lana in his lap.

They kissed and spoke quietly to each other, sharing an intimacy. As much as I despised them I felt a sense of relief as I watched. I hoped this was all that would be expected of me. Maybe I was no more than a human-sized pet. It seemed Lana was there to satisfy the Commandant's lusts and needs, and happy to do so. For the first time I had hope that I'd be spared and exhaustion closed my eyelids.

When I opened my eyes, the hall was clearing out and already down by half. The number of people in the large room continued to grow smaller until there were only a dozen men left. The servers, men and women dressed-or rather undressed-in the same manner as Lana, were gone too. Even she was gone. I closed my eyelids and held back my tears as the doors closed.

My ears felt stuffed with cotton and my body was too warm, as if I was running a fever. I shivered in fear as I pondered my fate. I was going to be used for their pleasure, and none of it would be mine. I could feel my body's responses.

Maybe it was shock, but something pulsed inside me. Anticipation mixed with desire that wasn't naturally mine. I rolled my eyes in discontent. I knew then I'd been drugged. The way I felt was beyond bearable. I was hot and hungry with a need that demanded attention. Rohypnol, or 'ruffies,' caused amnesia. I wished I'd been given the date rape drug. I would have preferred any other drug than the apparent aphrodisiac I'd consumed. I could tell there was nothing I would want to remember about this night.