Page 3 of M!lked For His Pleasure

“Please,” I murmur, not even knowing what it is I’m asking for.

At my soft plea, the man smiles, a touch gentler now. “That’s better. Be obedient and compliant, and we will not hurt you. Now then, state your name.”

“Fiona.” My name drips from my lips, soft, nearly inaudible, but he hears it.

“Fiona. It suits you.”

“Glad you think so. My parents did as well.”

“And feisty too,” he chuckles, pulling away.

Again, I squint, not willing to allow my nearsightedness to make me miss any detail of what’s happening.

“What’s causing you pain?”

“Nothing.” I spit out, horrified I even admitted to any discomfort a few moments ago.

It’s a sign of weakness, something these strange men can use against me. I suck my lips into my mouth to keep from speaking again. Thankfully, my churning stomach remains silent and doesn’t give anything else away.

“Then why is your brow furrowing?” He places his thumb in between my eyebrows and pushes until my muscles give way, relaxing my face.

Sighing, I give in. Besides, what exactly can they do to me if I admit the truth? “I can’t see. If you’ll return my glasses, I won’t squint as much.” The conversation is absurd, as if this stranger gives onefookabout my ability to see or not.

With a snap of his fingers, another blue monster comes into view. Well,fookme. These drugs must be better than I thought. Now there’s two of them. What in the bloody hell did they slip me?

They put their heads together and speak for a moment before turning back to me. Without saying a word, this new man comes around to the top of the table and grabs my head in his firm grip.

Panic rushes through me as the heart monitor beeps out in a rapid staccato. My breath catches in my throat, unable to fully fill my lungs. The more I’m unable to breathe, the worse it gets until I’m nearly dry heaving on the table.

“Sedate her,” the first stranger barks out, his eyes darting over to the side.

I follow his gaze and watch as symbols fly across the screen. They could be numbers. They could be letters. Hell, they could befookinghieroglyphics for all I know. Without my glasses, I have no clue what any of it means.

But I do know body language. It’s something I can read even without my glasses to aid me. The man is concerned. Worried for the first time since I’ve seen him. The lines of his body are tight and rigid.

Soon, however, I don’t care. The one holding my head slides an odd device down the side of my neck, distracting me. One sharp puncture later, and all cares and worries drift from me like steam off of hot asphalt.

Forget the drugs making these men blue. I want whatever this is bottled up and available for use at any time. My body is languid, floating as the first one hovers near.

I don’t even flinch as he pries my eyes open, flooding them with that horrific light. Besides, it’s not like I actually feel any discomfort. It’s as if my body and mind are split in two.

Though I can feel every sensation, I can’t bring myself to care. It’s blissful, relaxing, a spa for my mind. I want to stay here forever, cocooned away from all the worries that bombard me on a regular basis.

The man grips my head again. I can feel the sensation of his fingers digging into my scalp. Pinpricks of discomfort skitter over my skin, but that’s as far as it goes. There’s no fear beating at my chest. No fight or flight begging me to run.

Even the monitor beeps at a slower cadence, lulling me almost. The first one relaxes a touch, his body sagging ever so slightly as he leans forward and runs an odd cylinder over my face.

“Mid-ranged nearsightedness with astigmatism in both eyes,” he murmurs, peering down into my eye socket. “Everything else seems healthy.”

“Well, I could have told you that,” I slur, giggling at how drunk I sound.

He doesn’t answer, but instead smirks at the other man. Shaking his head, he looks back down at me and runs his fingers across my cheek. “This is going to sting. Would you like me to put you to sleep?”

“Heck no,” I laugh. “I might never wake up. Besides, I’ve handled my fair share of scrapes. Only girl with a family full of brothers. You do that math.”

His face draws down into a frown. “I am unable to math without the rest of the equation. Unless the equation is to solve for the number of brothers you have? But even then, there is not enough to go by. The number of offspring to Earthlings is vastly different from none at all to far more than the body should produce. You must give me another variable.”

I cannot control the laugh bubbling up from my lips. It sounds crazed, deranged even. “No, silly. Not that math. Just… It’s an expression.”

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