Page 26 of UnTrained: Volume One
"Good girl," he murmurs, and despite everything, the praise sends warmth through me. "Now, I want you to think back. Before the facility. Before they took you. What's the first thing that comes to mind?"
I shake my head against the vinyl surface. "I can't?—"
"You can." His hand settles on my thigh, not moving, just resting there. The touch is warm, grounding somehow. "Don't think about what they told you. Just let your mind wander. What do you see?"
Images pull from somewhere in the back of my mind, but I push them away. I shake my head. “Nothing, Sir.”
“Are you sure?” Aiden asks.
“Yes, Sir.”
He sets his hands on my inner thighs, pressing them apart as he exposes me. He holds me open with one hand and reaches for something with another.
“Lana,” he says, just as cold metal presses against my entrance, “I need you to tell me.”
I gasp at the cold touch against my most intimate place. The metal is clinical, unforgiving, and I know what it is even before Aiden speaks again.
"This is a speculum," he says, his voice steady and controlled. "I'm going to open you up, Lana. And I'm going to keep you open until you tell me something—anything—from before."
My breath comes in short, panicked bursts. The metal slides into me slowly, deliberately, and I bite down on my lip to keep from crying out.
"Please," I whisper, the word torn from somewhere deep in my chest. "Please don't."
18
LANA
Aiden doesn’t let up, the cold metal pressing even more insistently into me, inch by inch.
"Tell me your story, Lana." His voice is gentle but implacable. "One memory. That's all I need."
The speculum opens inside me with a soft clicking sound, and I arch against the restraints involuntarily. The sensation is invasive, exposing me in ways that make my skin crawl with shame and vulnerability.
"I don't—" I start, but he clicks it open another notch, and the words die in my throat.
“Talk to me, Lana.” The speculum opens wider, the stretch becoming painful.
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
When the speculum opens wider—one click, then two—I gasp.
I can't fight the memory anymore. It crashes through the walls I've built, flooding my mind with images so vivid they steal my breath.
"I was at a club," I whisper, the words barely audible. "A kink club. I went there to... to explore."
Aiden stills, the speculum no longer advancing. "Keep going."
My throat tightens, shame and fear mingling as the recollection takes shape. "I'd been going for a few weeks. I liked... I liked the submission. Being told what to do." The admission burns on my tongue, but once I start, the words won't stop. "There was a flyer. For a special event. A slave auction."
The memory pierces me more painfully than the metal inside me. My cheeks burn hot with humiliation.
"I thought it was just roleplay," I continue, tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. "I signed up. I thought... I thought it would be safe."
The speculum eases closed slightly, the pressure lessening. Aiden's voice is quiet when he speaks. "What happened next, Lana?"
It’s too embarrassing to tell him. I close my eyes, shaking my head. I expect him to
I expect him to force the speculum wider, to punish my silence. But instead, he continues to ease the pressure.
