Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel much better as I stand in front of my mirror, having worked out how things are supposed to go. This isn’t a dress. More like a fetish outfit—if that’s what they’re called. Tight and black and sheer and barely long enough to cover my pussy. My nipples are tight points pushing the see-through fabric, and every time I move, the hem hitches up over my ass. I pull it down a little, but that’s no use. It will only creep up over my cheeks again.

The butt plug is still firmly in place, and I’ve started to adjust to it a little. Not that I have any plans to make this a regular thing, but at least I’m not in pain. I can almost imagine how the sensation would be pleasurable if it wasn’t for the circumstances, and once again, I have to mourn for something I’ve lost. I will never be able to wear one of these again without so many ugly memories bubbling to the surface. The man has taken so much from me, things I didn’t even know existed until now. How much more is he going to take before this is all over?

I shouldn’t let myself think like that, but I’m so tired, so sore and used. Heartsick. On top of that, there’s my whole hormonal situation. I’m already miserable, so this isn’t exactly helping.

Hanging out in my room isn’t doing anything to get this over with. I have to survive; that’s all I need to do. I have to get it over with. After tonight, it’s finished. I’ve gotten through everything else they’ve done to me. I can do this, too.

So even though I want more than anything to curl up in bed with a heating pad and a book, I step out into the hall, prepared to meet my fate.

Colt is waiting for me, leaning with his back against the wall across from my door. He can’t help but look me up and down. At least he keeps it brief and doesn’t make any comments. All he says is, “It’s going to be a little different tonight.”

“No kidding. I still have this thing up my ass.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

The way he says it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “What’s happening?”

“Come on. You’ll see.” It doesn’t take long for me to figure out at least part of what he means since, instead of leading me downstairs, as usual, he heads down the hall.

My heart clenches when I realize what’s happening. Where we’re going. “No,” I whisper, grabbing him by the arm like that will do anything to slow him down. It doesn’t, of course. “In there?”