Book To Read
33
Ayla
I blink groggily. It feels like I’ve been in bed for hours, halfway between being awake and being asleep. Vaguely, I remember a conversation with Alessio, something about my birthday. We were joking about my crazy island fantasy, I think. And did he give me a pill?
My eyes open. It’s bright. Can somebody close the window? I squint, trying to orient myself as my brain processes the sound of ocean waves.This is from NôvelDrama.Org.
Waves?
Holy shit, I’m on the beach. I spring to my feet in shock, blinking in the sunlight. I’m in the shade, some kind of small, wooden beach hut, lying on a cushy air mattress.
And I’mnaked. Completely naked. And glancing around, there’s not a stitch of clothing in sight.
There are other things, though. A backpack. A container of what looks like overnight oats, ready to eat. A pair of sneakers. An orange flare gun. And anote. I grab it, reading what must be Alessio’s handwriting:
Happy 20th birthday, Ayla!
You are far from home. I won’t tell you where. Here is what I will tell you:
You are on a private island.
I am the only other person on the island.
I have left you with food, water, sunblock, etc.
There are more supply caches scattered across the island, marked with yellow flags.
If at any point you need help or want the game to end, fire your flare gun in the air.
I will begin searching for you at noon.
When I find you, I am going to make youmy fucktoy.
I keep staring at the note, reading it over and over again. Oh my God, I remember taking the pill now. Alessio said I would wake up at my destination. I wasn’t sure whether to take him seriously or not.
How long ago was that? Did we come here by plane? By boat? What part of the world are we even in?
It’s a weird turn-on that he took my clothes. There’s so much ownership in that. He set all of this up, handledeverything, while I was unconscious. That can’t have been easy. Or cheap.
I will begin searching for you at noon.
I glance at the sky. Noon means the sun is directly overhead. From what I can tell, I should have… an hour? An hour and a half? I really don’t know. Time to eat my oats and get going.
***
After scarfing down my overnight oats and covering my naked body in sunblock, I’m ready to move. I check the backpack, which contains a water bottle, some kind of lightweight sleeping bag, a few protein bars, more sunblock, and a flashlight. Then I start walking. I want to put distance between myself and my starting place before noon hits.
I walk down the beach for a little while, keeping my feet in the area where the waves hit so the tide covers my footprints. Eventually, I decide I’ll be too easy to spot out in the open, so I pull the sneakers out of my backpack and make my way into the jungle-looking area that lies beyond the beach.
Being naked outside like this feels just as weird and vulnerable as it did on Alessio’s balcony. I keep feeling like someone will see me, and I should cover up. But there’s no onetosee me. Just me and him.
That feeling of being hunted is such a thrill. Knowing there’s someone looking for me, trying to catch me, planning to do things to me. The ultimate thrill, of course, is the part where Idoget caught, where I get dominated and restrained and used in whatever rough ways my husband intends.
But that doesn’t mean I’m going to make it easy. In fact, a lot of my excitement comes from just how difficult I intend to be. I want to be legitimately overpowered, to fight back and keep fighting while Alessio claims what he wants.
The fact that I’m naked really adds to the vulnerability of it. In this moment, I truly am his prey. And I love it.
The sun is overhead now. I shiver in excitement. In my mind, I can see Alessio setting out to find me, dressed in a safari outfit. As I tiptoe through the woods, I’m suddenly worried about how much sound I’m making. Every creaking tree, every gust of wind, sends nervous tingles through me.
Through the trees ahead, a flash of yellow catches my eye. That must be one of the supply caches. I creep forward, wary. Peering through the branches, I see a clear, sandy area on a slight hill where an umbrella covers a small table. On top of the umbrella is a yellow flag, waving lazily in the breeze.
I stay where I am, scanning for any sign of movement. When I see nothing, I scurry out from the woods to check what’s under the umbrella.
It’s a basket holding little baggies of chips in several flavors. Next to it, straws, cups, and a cooler containing what seems to be iced tea. Quickly, I pour myself a cup and set off, leaving the chips. The caffeine burst is welcome, but there’s no way in hell he’s going to catch me because of my crunching.