Page 4 of M!lked For His Pleasure

Again, he nods, but something tells me he doesn’t quite understand. But then, I cannot bring myself to care. It must be a language thing. Goodness knows how many idioms I didn’t understand when I first came to America.

When he leans in once more, he holds an odd tool in his hand. It looks similar to a scalpel, but duller somehow. Not that I’ve seen that many scalpels. He drags it over my eye, and for a moment, searing pain floods my body.

I want to scream, to thrash about, but the drugs they gave me keep me locked in this perpetual loop of disinterest, even as my body threatens to fall apart. To his credit, however, the pain doesn’t last for long.

Soon, it gives way to no sensation at all. In fact, I would worry he severed the nerves completely, rendering me blind, but that’s not the case at all. With my right eye, I can see just as clearly as if I had my glasses on.

He leans in to do the left eye, but this time, I can brace for the pain. It’s a familiar agony, one I know will disappear before I drown in it. Under my breath, I count out, reaching ten seconds before the discomfort leaves and gives way to perfect vision.

I blink, unable to comprehend what it is that’s happening. “Is it some sort of LASIK?”

Though I had been meaning to get the procedure done, I always held back, not wishing to mess with my eyes. They were functional with glasses, and I didn’t wish to ruin them permanently. It doesn’t matter that the success stories are abundant. I didn’t want to be the one bad procedure.

“For you, that will be the closest approximation. However, our technology is far more advanced than your rudimentaryprocedures.” There’s a smug note of pride in his voice as he pulls away.

Now that I can clearly see, I take in the space around me. The entire room is metal, as if dipped in stainless steel and chrome. Monitors line the walls, many showing a screen with symbols on it that have no meaning.

Glancing up at the man at the head of the table, I watch as he takes the wand over to my neck again. Once more, there’s a sharp prick and everything crashes in as my mind and body combine once more.

Frantic, I tug at my arms, looking down to see what’s holding me in place. And that’s when I realize I’m not only restrained, but I’m also naked. What the hell is happening to me?

Chapter Two

Fiona

So far, this is unlike any sort of corporate kidnapping I’ve ever heard of, but what other explanation is there? I don’t know anyone here well enough to anger them. Unless these are some sort of madmen who like to play doctor with their victims.

It doesn’t explain the blue, though. That unfortunately brings other thoughts into my mind, thoughts that don’t belong.Alien. As much as I try to keep it from popping up into my head, it slithers through my synapses, filling me with an odd sense of calm.

How is it I’d rather be at the mercy of aliens than corporate goons? I must have cracked for sure. That’s the only rational explanation in a sea of irrationality. Looking over at the monitor again, I watch as the numbers climb.

This time, I can see well enough to know it’s my heart rate. No doubt about it, now. 120. 130. 140. 150.Fook. Fook, fook, fook. My pulse has never been this high before. Watching the numbers only seems to make it climb faster.

Odd flutters zip up and down my body as my vision swims. Is something wrong with my eyes? All that thought does is make my pulse rise even higher until I’m shaking and gasping for breath.

The two men dash over to my side, their harsh, strident voices falling on deaf ears. A loud ringing is all I hear as my brain buzzes. My stomach flips as the room dips and sways. One more pinprick, and I’m free-floating back into that oblivion.

Off in the distance, I listen as the beeps start to slow. I turn my head, the movement languid and unhurried. By the time I’m looking at the screen, my pulse is back down to a reasonable rate.

With a soft sigh, I lie there as the other two move about. Now that blind panic no longer stirs up my emotions, I find I can think rationally again. Not that it’s doing me any good.

I still can’t make any sense of what’s happening. Or maybe it’s that I don’t want to. Aliens kidnapping me or saboteurs kidnapping me. Neither prospect is one I wish to contemplate.

Blue blurs race about as they gather items I have no names for. I long to laugh, to allow the hysterical sound to leave my body, but I don’t dare. The last thing I want is their attention turned back onto me as I process what’s happening.

Unfortunately, the only thing I can come back to is alien. As preposterous as it sounds in my own head, nothing else makes sense. Why would someone trying to sabotage a security firm want to fix my vision?

More importantly, how would they have access to technology that’s somehow better than LASIK? From my research, my eyes should start burning at some point, and yet, that’s one area that feels no sort of discomfort.

What shocks me more than that, however, is the fact that my vision is perfect. Even better than what I remember as ateenager. In fact, I find that I can read the tiny print on a bottle all the way across the room.

Granted, I can’t make out the words, seeing as they must be in some other language, but I can see the shapes and follow them with ease. LASIK can’t do that. At least not the procedures I’ve studied up on.

As I understand it, it takes days, sometimes a month or so, for the eyes to adjust to twenty-twenty vision. Not like this. Not instant. But then that brings me back to why. It always comes back to why.

“Why?” I finally allow the question to leave my brain and flit through the air.

The two men stop what they’re doing and look over at me, their faces gentle despite the harsh planes. “You must be more specific, little cow,” the stranger I saw when I first opened my eyes murmurs.

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