Page 27 of UnTrained: Volume One
"It's okay," he says, and his voice carries something I can't identify. "You're being so brave, Lana. Keep going."
The gentleness in his tone undoes something inside me. The tears I've been holding back spill over, hot tracks down my cheeks.
"They drugged me," I whisper. "At the auction. I remember being on stage, and then... nothing. When I woke up, I was in a van." My voice breaks. "I thought it was part of the scene at first. I kept waiting for someone to use the safeword, to tell me it was over."
The speculum clicks closed another notch, the relief immediate. But Aiden doesn't remove it entirely.
"How long were you at the facility?" he asks.
I try to think, but time became meaningless there. Days blended into weeks, weeks into months. "I don't know. Long enough to forget who I was before."
The words hang in the sterile air between us. I can feel Aiden's gaze on me, though I can't see his face from this position. The speculum remains inside me, a constant reminder of my vulnerability, but the pressure has eased enough that I can breathe.
"You remember now, though," he says quietly. "You remember Lana."
I nod against the vinyl, fresh tears sliding down my temples into my hair. "I remember some things. Coffee shops. My apartment. A cat named Mochi." The memories feel fragile, like they might shatter if I examine them too closely.
"What else?" His voice is patient, encouraging in a way that makes my chest ache.
"I was a teacher," I whisper, the words feeling strange on my tongue. "Third grade. I had a classroom with yellow walls and a reading corner with bean bags." The image blooms in my mind—twenty-two small faces looking up at me, trust and curiosity shining in their eyes.
What happened to those children when I disappeared? Did they wonder where Miss Lana went? The thought makes my chest tighten with grief I've kept buried for months.
"Good girl," Aiden says softly, and I feel the speculum ease closed another increment. "You're doing so well, Lana. Tell me more."
I swallow hard, my throat raw from crying. "I lived alone. No family nearby. That's probably why..." I trail off, the implication hanging heavy between us. No one to miss me quickly enough to matter.
"Why what, Lana?"
"Why no one came looking for me." The words taste bitter. "I was just... disposable."
The speculum slides out, and I feel Aiden's hands on my thighs again, steadying rather than restraining. "You're not disposable, Lana. You're here. You're alive. You remembered."
His words sink into my skin, a promise I don't know if I can believe. My body feels hollow after the speculum's removal, empty and vulnerable. I stare up at those ceiling tiles—twenty-seven of them—trying to find my center again.
"I want to release you from these restraints," Aiden says, his fingers hovering over the leather cuff on my wrist. "But I needto know you won't try to run or fight me. Can you promise that, Lana?"
I nod, then remember that's not enough. "Yes, Sir."
"Aiden," he corrects gently. "You can call me Aiden. I have more questions for you, but we’ll save them for another time."
"Yes... Aiden." His name feels strange on my tongue, intimate in a way that makes my chest tighten.
He unbuckles the restraints one by one, his movements efficient but careful. When I'm free, he helps me sit up, his hand warm against my back as I swing my legs over the side of the table.
The room spins slightly, and I grip the edge of the exam table to steady myself. My thighs tremble, whether from being held open for so long or from the emotional toll of remembering, I can't tell.
I sit on the edge of the table in my borrowed clothes, trying to process what just happened. I told him things I've kept buried for months. My name. My life before. The club.
The shame burns hot in my chest. I was so naive, so trusting. I walked right into their trap because I wanted to explore something dark inside myself.
"How do you feel?" Aiden asks, and I realize he's been watching me struggle with these revelations.
"Stupid," I whisper, the word slipping out before I can stop it.
His brow furrows. "Why stupid?"
"Because I did this to myself." The admission tears at my throat. "I signed up for that auction. I put myself in danger because I was curious about... about submission." My face burns withhumiliation. "They didn't have to force me. I walked right into it."
