The session started like the others.
Too bright. Too quiet. Too many eyes.
I sat in the middle of the room, arms loose at my sides, heart thudding in my ears. Across from me, Nine knelt on the mat with perfect posture. Submissive. Beautiful. Blank.
The instructors stood behind the mirrored walls, watching. Commenting. One paced slowly, arms crossed behind his back, mouth twisted into something between amusement and disdain.
They wanted obedience today. More than usual.
They wanted a demonstration.
"He responds to you best," the lead instructor had said. "Make him flinch. Make him submit. We need to assess pain thresholds."
And I—
I agreed.
Because I had to.
Because saying no meant suspicion.
But now that the bond was active—
I closed my eyes for half a second. Focused. Opened the thread between us with a breath.
Nine?
His head lifted slightly.
Not enough to be noticed. Just enough to tell me he heard.
Can you hear me?
A pause. Then: Rhea?
My breath caught.
Yes, I said. It's me. I'm here.
His body trembled slightly, knees shifting just a little on the mat. I caught the twitch in the instructor's expression.
"Is he resisting again?"
"No," I said quickly. "Just nervous."
The man grunted. "Fix it."
I turned to Nine.
Lifted a hand.
Hesitated.
Then struck him across the face.
Not hard. But loud. Measured.
He flinched perfectly.
Gasps behind the glass. Notes scribbled.
Nine didn't cry out.
But inside the bond, he recoiled.
It's okay, I whispered through the thread. I'm here. I'm sorry.
His voice was soft. You don't have to be.
Yes, I do. I'm hurting you.
Only because they make you. It doesn't count if your heart doesn't mean it.
I swallowed a lump in my throat.
"Again," the instructor said.
I obeyed.
Again.
And again.
Each strike landed with precision.
Each one echoed against the walls.
But each time, I followed with a thought.
I love you.
I'm proud of you.
You're strong. You're everything.
And Nine—
He listened.
He stayed quiet.
He obeyed.
But inside our bond, he shimmered.
Every thought I sent, he wrapped around himself like armor.
You're still mine, I said when they made me slap his thigh. Nothing they say changes that.
His answer came back like a whisper over a still lake. Yours. Always yours.
They brought out a cane next. Had me hold it.
"Conditioning touch-response. Across the thighs. One every ten seconds. Measure vocalization."
I took it.
Because I had to.
But before I even raised it, I whispered: I'm going to make it fast. Then I'll soothe you after. Just hold on, baby.
Nine nodded, imperceptibly. Then lowered his head again.
I brought the cane down—measured, shallow.
Once.
Twice.
Ten times.
Each time, he whimpered. Not too loud. Not too quiet.
Perfect.
But in the bond, I felt him retreating.
Folding in on himself.
Curling inward, mentally, so far I nearly lost him.
Stay with me, I said, shaking with the effort. Stay with me, Nine. Don't go away.
He whimpered again.
But this one—this one was inside the bond.
Hurts… but it's okay if it's you.
Gods.
I nearly dropped the cane.
When it was done, I knelt in front of him—too quickly, maybe—but they didn't stop me.
I cupped his face.
"Good," I said aloud. "Very good."
He blinked up at me. Lips trembling.
But through the bond—
I love you so much, I told him. And I'm going to get us out of this.
His head tilted ever so slightly.
You already have, he whispered.
And that—
That broke me more than anything.