My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 1 Read Online Free

said, reaching for my arm.
    I pleaded with my eyes for him not to do
this, because I wanted to stay awake during the ordeal, to take in
as much information as I could, but the sting still happened, the
needle pushing into my arm.
    “ Remove your hand,” Jagger said
to Alberto.
    The meaty hand disappeared from my mouth
to be replaced by Jagger’s lips. He kissed me, then pulled back,
his eyes going to mine, his intensity making me panic along with
the drug now coursing through my veins. He could do anything to me
while I was out. It made me want to fight back, regardless of my
job. I tried to lift my leg to stiletto him, but couldn’t move it,
my body beginning to shut down. I closed my eyes, sleep now pushing
at the borders of my drug-addled mind.
    Jagger brushed my hair aside. “I hope you
fight me every step of the way, because I like inflicting pain, and
contrary to what you said about not being a masochist, once I’m
through with you, you will beg me to hurt you, to whip you, to fuck
you.” He nuzzled my ear. “I now own your body, your mind, your
soul,” he whispered. “You are mine to do as I please. I’m your
master, your god, your nightmare...”
    No, I’ m yours, I thought, I’m yours.
     

 
     
     
    2
    I woke, instantly wishing I hadn’t.
Nausea, pain, and dizziness hit me all at once as I was jostled
about on a hard metal floor, the vibration of the engine running
through me. My eyes were covered and my wrists and ankles were tied
with rope, while a gag was wrapped around my mouth, the nausea now
concerning me the most, because I could easily choke on my
vomit.
    I breathed in through my nose, trying to
quell it, which I needed to do quickly, because it wasn’t only my
nausea concerning me. I had to get myself under control, to think
logically, to listen to the sounds, to find any clue to where I was
being taken. But the nausea, the pain in my body, and my
disorientation battled with me, fighting me every painful second. A
voice started up, Italian words being said. I breathed in through
my nose again, trying to center my thoughts as I did in karate.
After several seconds I got myself under some semblance of control,
enough to listen to what the man was saying, his staccato bursts of
words suggesting he was talking on the phone. It sounded like
Alberto, the man angry that an order of women had been
delayed.
    The re was a cry of a seagull, then
another one split the air with a loud shriek. I wondered whether we
were going to a house near a beach—or a dock, the last location a
concern, especially if I was being shipped overseas, because the
tracking chip in my leg had a limited range.
    But first , I had to get the blindfold
off. I placed the side of my face against the floor and started
rubbing against it, moving the blindfold slightly, but not enough
to see. I rolled to my other side and did the same, moving it a
fraction more. I repeated this until it was halfway down my eyes.
Some boxes were on the other side of the van alongside a steel
cage. I rolled over to the cage, using its edge to push the
blindfold over the bridge of my nose and down to my neck. The van
went over a bump, the sudden jolt sending me crashing into the
boxes. I grunted, willing myself to blank out the pain, but it
rallied against me, the nausea also starting up again. I breathed
in and out, trying my best to focus. Once under control, I rolled
back to the cage, using it and my tongue to push the gag out of my
mouth.
    The van came to a sudden halt, sending me
crashing into the wall, Alberto obviously not caring what condition
I arrived in. I screwed up my face, wanting to scream out, but
instead panted out the pain, my apprehension growing as a door
slammed shut. I rolled down the van quickly, trying to get to the
back door before it opened. I needed to know where I was before
Alberto realized I was no longer blindfolded.
    The creak of the door opening made
me look up. Alberto stood over me, the hulk of a man looking