Page 108 of Depravity

“What the fuck?” Someone else mutters.

“We need to get going.” The man states, “Can you walk?”

He’s talking to me? He thinks I want to leave? I frown, staring down at my legs. I just want my toes to wiggle. I don’t even care if my feet don’t work. I just want to see my toes move, just a little bit.

But there’s nothing.

“No walk,” I say.

That clearly pisses him off. He starts barking orders before he turns back to me. “Get up, we’re leaving.”

“No walk.” I repeat. “No legs.”

“What does she mean ‘no legs’? They’re right there?” The girl gasps, pointing like we can’t see them.

I remember her now. I remember her face.

“You came.” I whisper. “You found me before. When I was bad. When I was broken.”

She was there. She found me on the rug. She was a maid.

She nods, taking my hand. “Please Brynn, we want to help you.”

“No walk.” I repeat. “No legs.”

“What does that mean?” The man snarls, losing the last of his patience.

I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath. There’s too many people in this room. No one is meant to be in this room. Conrad doesn’t like anyone here, not even the doctor.

“Broke.” I whisper, “He broke… Now my legs are gone.” I roll over, showing my skin, showing my spine and I know that the bruising is there, that the damage is there.

The room reacts. I don’t look at their faces but it’s clear no one here likes my legs like this.

“I’ve been good.” I state. I have. I haven’t moved. I did what he asked. And when he comes back, he’s going to reward me.

Reward me. My hand moves, it’s so instinctive I don’t question it. That need is suddenly there, so strong and I need to sort it. I need to do it. I’m not allowed to touch my cunt, they said that, they said it’s damaged, but I can touch the other part. The part that is nice, the part on the outside that makes me see stars.

“What the fuck is she doing?” The man snarls.

“He’s fucked with her head.” The girl replies. “She wasn’t like this before. I swear…”

“We don’t have time for this.”

A hand smacks at me. It stops me. I look up, not understanding because this is what my body needs. This is what my body wants. And my husband wants it too. He likes this.

“Conrad wants…” I trail off, unable to finish that sentence as I’m scooped up.

I’m not wearing anything. I’m naked, and the feel of my skin against the stiffness of his clothes is horrible. It rubs. It scratches.

“Let’s go.”

Go.

Go. Go. Go.

But I can’t go. I can’t.Conrad will be back. He will be expecting me to be here.

“He wants me here.” I state. Why don’t they understand?

---