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By:Shay Savage


Shay Savage


“Do it.”

I hear her words.

Absorb them.

Bright flashes in my eyes as well as my mind blind me and freeze my movements for a fraction of a second. Comprehension takes hold as I stare into her eyes.



I’ve seen those signs in her before, many times. She’s always held back, always denied me. Her chest rises and falls with her breathing. The skin of her neck is flushed. Her pupils are dilated. She moistens her lips with her tongue.

Above all the other indications, I can smell it on her. The delicate, unmistakable scent flows over me.


This time, it is coupled with the one key element that has always been lacking before—permission.

Reaching out, my fingers grasp the collar of her lab coat, and I pull her down.

Fabric tears. I barely register my actions as her lab coat falls in pieces to the floor. The rest of her clothing follows quickly, shredded beyond repair.

She gasps as I flip her over easily, pinning her below me and pushing her legs apart with my knees. I have no interest in foreplay. I already know she’s ready. At this moment, all that matters is getting my cock inside her as quickly as possible.

Chapter 1

I wake.

It’s not the slow, lazy awakening of someone who has slept well. I feel like I am a bright lamp that has suddenly been switched on, the darkness abruptly gone. My eyes are wide and focused on the bare, white ceiling above me. My body is tense, and I quickly take in my surroundings.

There’s nothing but white and stainless steel all around me. One wall is covered with a mirror, and it reflects the lights that are too bright for the small room. I’m on my back, strapped to a bed of stark white sheets.

I have no idea where I am or how I got here.

Instinct kicks in, and I buck against the restraints. They dig into my chest, abs, and thighs. Flashes of thought fly through my head, giving me instructions. I lay back, take a deep breath, and push up with my shoulder against the restraint there, using the rest of my body as leverage against the single strap. I can feel my pulse throb in my temple as I grunt. It feels like the tendons and ligaments in my shoulder could tear at any moment, but I don’t let up.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I strain one last time, and hear the restraint rip.

With my upper body freed, it only takes a few seconds to remove the remaining straps from my body, and I realize I’m naked except for a thin hospital gown tied at my back. Upright and off the table, I get a better look at my surroundings.

The space is small. Other than the bed, there are three carts of medical equipment and a long table with a computer monitor in the center. In the far corner, there is a cabinet and a double-basin sink, and hanging from the ceiling is a showerhead. Thirteen small drain holes dot the floor below. Opposite the mirrored wall and behind the table is the only door. Over the door, a tiny red light catches my eye.

A camera.

I stare at it briefly, wondering who is watching me. The upper corners of the mirror have similar red lights. There must be someone on the other end of the cameras, but who? Why?

I step to the side and knock into one of the metal tables. Items on top of it rattle, and my body tenses again at the noise. I grab the edge of the table and fling it upward with my fingers. It flies into the air and lands with a crash on the cement floor. Instruments fly across the room.

Twenty-seven. There are twenty-seven instruments.

I shake my head, trying to rid it of the ringing sound of metal on concrete that still echoes through it. Thoughts fly through my head. There are so many, and at first, they are overwhelming, but I quickly understand the underlying message.

I have to get out of here.

The door is locked and appears to be solid steel. I slam a fist into it, but I know I can’t break it down. There are no hinges and no obvious means of unlocking it.


I turn around and face the computer screen on the table. There is only a single cursor blinking green and asking for a user name. Is the user name based on last name and first initial? I have no way of knowing where to begin.

I don’t know my name.

I suck in air and feel panic start to build. I push the thought to the back of my head. I can’t do anything about that now. I have to escape. Other issues can wait.

I look to the mirror. The reflection of the bright lights burns into my eyes, but the mirror itself seems darker than I expect it to be. I approach is slowly. It’s definitely a two-way mirror, but even when I press my face to the glass, I can’t see anything behind it.

I stare at the face in the mirror, presumably my own. I see short, dark hair and dark eyes. My cheeks and chin are covered with a scruffy beard. Nothing looks familiar.

Pulling my arm back, I slam my fist into the glass. It ripples but doesn’t break. My knuckles ache from the impact.