Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
I
could
not
wait.
And although at that point knowing he might reveal himself to be horrible, terrible, sick and twisted and ready to put me through some serious pain after getting me where he knew there would be no Kruna cameras, I couldn’t help but think about what I’d seen so far. The sweet, the protective. I was thinking about the sweet touches to my face, the spooning, the sandcastle, the swimming, holding me and the keeping me safe in the water and safe from them and I dared to hope just a little bit that it’d somehow be okay, that we’d get here and the sex would be spectacular and he wouldn’t morph into something horrible and cruel. But what had happened when we arrived here turned my carefully constructed universe into an absolutely ravaged war zone.
Yes, it’s messed up that I didn’t try to make a run for it the minute we got here, but I’d been brainwashed. I was brainwashed to the point that the notion of running would just not happen. Never ever.
People who haven’t been in my situation…they do not fully grasp the concept of being broken. I was like a horse who didn’t need to be tied, didn’t need a saddle, didn’t need spurs because I’d been broken. I would not run away. Every once in a while, a rare horse will get his or her spirit back and rear up and throw an owner off out of the blue. But that wasn’t me. I didn’t think it was possible. I’d been professionally broken by people trained to make sure I didn’t rear back, not ever, and they certainly must’ve believed that or they’d never let me leave the resort with one of their new partners. Not only had they thoroughly broken me but they also had an insurance policy that would keep me in line.
I used to be a sassy, fun-loving girl with a filthy mouth and stereotypical ginger bad temper and no fear of anyone or almost anything. All that changed over the first few months at Kruna.
The nearly 2 years there I had a single-minded focus to stay out of trouble and be a perfect slave so that I would not be subjected to the consequences that they’d laid out as well as corrections and re-training. Also, I worked hard to ensure I would get and then stay on the short list of available slaves for sale. Kruna rarely sold the assets. I wasn’t advertised. At first I was very sheltered, but after Mr. Frost died I was put into the general slave population and allowed to serve more patrons and without his iron fist ruling over me I found my way to getting ranked among the possibilities for those who were interested in either taking assets off-site temporarily or acquiring them permanently and I made sure that once I got on that list I stayed there. It’d been over two years since someone wanted a Kruna wife but now that there was the demand, I’d been the one chosen.
When I found out that I replaced a slave who had become an owned wife that possibility was the closest thing to freedom I could imagine and so I strived to get on that list. And that was what made me a possibility when they looked for a redhead with a big sexual appetite for Dare.
That’s all I knew of what he wanted other than that he planned to marry me. For a request to include a big sexual appetite made me think that I’d be subjected to some serious marathon session sex, and I was physically fit, I had stamina, and I had a sex drive that rivaled most of the girls at Kruna. And that was what helped me get to where I got to. Point C.
When he didn’t lay a hand on me and turned down my advances, I thought I wasn’t up to par and that would mean that he wouldn’t bring me with him. It’d also mean I’d be off that short list, taking the possibility of life off the resort off the table. I knew I was gambling by aiming for that short list. I knew that because I knew that most girls who left the resort didn’t generally get a happily ever after.
A few success stories had been discussed but more often than not we knew who the Masters were and knew their tastes because of what we’d endured at the resort with them. A man who was into severe pain, mutilation, play with body fluids, or who had plans to make his girl the star in her very own snuff film was always a possibility.
Some girls preferred being a Kruna asset to being owned because even if some days were hard they were not endless with one horrible patron. I’d spent months with one horrible man there and knew firsthand how awful that could be. I’d been with a lot of patrons since then and none had come close. I hoped no one in the world would ever come close to that again.