Chapter 70: Lunar Landing

[Adam’s Pov]

Mia’s strong hands move over my body, washing me with an intensity that feels more like preparation than cleaning. The warm water cascades over us both, steam filling the small shower stall. My body is on autopilot, responding to her touch with learned compliance while my mind drifts somewhere far away.

I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been here. The days blur together in an endless cycle of heroin, rape, and Mia’s possessive affection. The empty socket where my front tooth used to be has stopped throbbing constantly, the taste of copper gradually fading to something less immediate. It’s become just another part of my new reality.

Mia’s hands pause on my shoulders, her fingers digging in a little too hard. I glance up at her face and notice something, nervousness. Her usual confident demeanor has cracks in it today, her dark eyes darting around as she scrubs me.

“So, uhh, Adam,” she says, her voice trying to be casual but missing by a mile. “Boss decided she wanted to have a taste, too, okay?”

I blink slowly, the words taking too long to process through the fresh dose of heroin she gave me before the shower. My thoughts are sluggish, floating like debris in molasses.

“Do I have to get it up on my own?” I ask, my voice flat and hollow.

“No, no,” Mia rushes to reassure me, shaking her head. Her wet hair sends droplets flying. “Look, Adam, Luna is kind of crazy, okay? You need to be careful.”

Something about her tone penetrates the drug haze. She’s genuinely worried about something Luna might do.

‘Mia is so similar to Caterina. But she’s possessive in all the wrong ways. At least Caterina made me happy as long as I followed the rules. And the sex always felt like connecting with my soulmate. With Mia, I just feel like a human dildo.’

“I’ll just keep my mouth shut then,” I mutter, staring at the shower drain as water swirls down it.

Mia sighs nervously, her hands resuming their work on my body. “Hopefully, she won’t make you talk.”

The water shuts off abruptly. Mia helps me out of the shower with that disturbing mix of tenderness and ownership that makes my skin crawl. She dries me carefully, paying special attention to the fresh bruises that bloom across my ribs and thighs.

“I got you some clothes,” she says, retrieving a bundle from a nearby shelf. “Actual clothes, not just boxers.”

Mia unfolds the clothes, revealing a crisp white dress shirt and dark pants, complete with a silk tie. I stare at them blankly, wondering about the sudden formality.

“Luna wants you looking presentable,” she explains, her voice tight with tension as she helps me into the shirt.

Her fingers work the buttons with practiced ease, dressing me like I’m her personal doll. Each movement is efficient yet possessive, smoothing the fabric across my chest, adjusting the collar around my neck. The pants come next, Mia kneeling to guide my feet through the legs, pulling them up and fastening them at my waist.

She retrieves the tie, looping it around my collar and knotting it with meticulous care. The whole time, my damaged hands hang uselessly at my sides, dead weight attached to arms that barely feel like my own anymore.

I stand there, dressed like a corporate puppet, feeling absolutely nothing. All this shit has hollowed me out completely, leaving just an empty shell where a person used to be. Even fear seems distant now, a concept rather than an emotion.

Mia steps back to examine her handiwork, her dark eyes clouded with worry. She reaches up to smooth my hair, her touch lingering a moment too long on my cheek.

“I don’t know if she’ll hurt you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “Please don’t provoke her, Adam. For your sake and mine.”

I stare at her, really looking at her for perhaps the first time since my capture. This woman who violated me repeatedly, who holds me prisoner, who treats me like property, now stands before me, trembling with fear for what her boss might do.

Something inside me cracks, a final fracture in whatever remained of my spirit.

“I genuinely hope,” I whisper, my voice hoarse from disuse, “that someday you feel even a fraction of the pain and terror you’ve put me through.”

The words hang in the air between us, sharp and unexpected. Mia’s face transforms instantly, her eyes widening before narrowing with rage. Her hand moves in a blur, connecting with my cheek in a slap so hard my head snaps sideways.

“Shut the fuck up,” she hisses, grabbing my face and forcing me to look at her. “You have no idea how hard I’m working to keep you as comfortable as possible.”

I say nothing. No tears come. No angry retorts. Just quiet acceptance washing over me like a wave, drowning whatever spark had momentarily flickered to life.

Mia releases my face, her breathing heavy with barely contained fury. “She’s waiting,” she mutters, grabbing my elbow and steering me toward the door.

Mia’s grip on my elbow is painful as she marches me down a dimly lit hallway I’ve never seen before. We pass several doors, all industrial metal with heavy locks, before stopping at one that looks slightly different, newer, with a keypad instead of a traditional lock.

She punches in a code, her fingers trembling slightly, and pushes the door open without a word.

The contrast between this room and the rest of the warehouse is jarring. While everything else has been concrete floors and exposed pipes, this space looks almost livable. The floor has actual carpeting, plush and dark red. Computer monitors line one wall, their screens displaying different news channels. Glass cabinets filled with vials and bottles of various colors stand against another wall. The centerpiece of the room is a massive bed with silk sheets, incongruously luxurious amid the technological clutter.

Luna sits cross-legged on the bed, still wearing that ridiculous Hawaiian shirt, thumbing through her phone with casual indifference. She looks up as we enter, her green eyes gleaming with predatory delight.

“Ah, right on time!” she exclaims, setting her phone aside. Her gaze travels over me, lingering on my missing tooth and the bruises visible at my collar. “Don’t you clean up nice?”

Mia’s grip on my elbow tightens momentarily before she forces herself to release me. “He’s been cooperative,” she says stiffly, her voice betraying her reluctance.

Luna’s smile widens into something cruel and mocking. “Thank you so much, Mia,” she purrs, her eyes never leaving my face. “I’ll take good care of your pet.”

I can feel Mia’s hesitation, the way she hovers for a moment too long. But she simply nods, backing toward the door without another word. The click of the lock as it shuts behind her sounds like a death sentence.

Luna rises from the bed with feline grace, circling me slowly. “Look at you,” she murmurs, reaching out to straighten my tie. “All dressed up like a proper gentleman.”

I say nothing, my eyes fixed on a point over her shoulder.

She takes my arm, her touch surprisingly gentle as she guides me toward the bed. I follow without resistance, my body too drained to fight anymore. The mattress sinks beneath my weight as I sit on the edge.

Luna moves to one of the glass cabinets, sliding it open and selecting a small vial containing blue pills. She shakes one into her palm and returns to stand before me.

“Open up,” she commands, holding the pill between her thumb and forefinger.

I open my mouth automatically, letting her place the small blue pill on my tongue. I swallow it dry, the pill scraping down my throat.

“You’re pretty high on heroin right now, right?” Luna asks, studying my face with those unsettling green eyes.

“Yeah,” I mutter, my voice flat.

She tilts her head, considering me. “Do you like Molly?”

I shrug weakly. “I don’t know.”

Luna grimaces, turning back to her cabinet of drugs. She rummages through the vials, finally selecting another pill—this one smaller than the first.

“I want you to take this too,” she says, returning to stand before me.

“Okay,” I agree, too broken to care.

‘Maybe I’ll get lucky and this combo will kill me.’

She pops the second pill into my mouth, watching with satisfaction as I swallow it. Her eyes travel over my suit, a strange expression crossing her face.

“You’re wearing a suit that looks just like my husband’s on our wedding day,” she says, her voice taking on an odd, nostalgic tone.

My brain takes a moment to process her words. “Tony?”

Luna nods, twirling a strand of her dark hair around her finger. “Yeah, Isabella had us get married so we could combine our organizations. But I’ve hardly ever talked to him other than our pre-planned appearances.”

She moves closer, her body pressing against mine as she leans in. Her lips brush against my neck, the contact sending an unwelcome shiver through me.

“It’s kind of lonely to never get to make love with your husband,” she whispers against my skin. “Don’t you think?”

I try to answer, but something strange is happening to my body. A warm, tingling sensation begins in my fingertips, spreading up my arms and through my chest. Colors suddenly seem brighter, more vivid. Luna’s Hawaiian shirt transforms from merely gaudy to hypnotically beautiful, each pattern swirling and pulsating with impossible depth.

The molly is kicking in. It feels surprisingly familiar.

Luna’s face blurs and shifts before me, her features becoming impossibly beautiful in the drug-induced cloud. She stares directly into my eyes, her gaze penetrating the fog in my brain.

“Let me treat you like my husband tonight, okay?” she whispers, her words echoing strangely in my ears.

I remain silent, unable to form words as my mind drifts to Caterina.

‘God, I miss her.’

The way she’d look at me with those crimson eyes. How she’d touch me with that perfect blend of possession and tenderness. Even her violence had purpose, had boundaries. Not this endless nightmare of random cruelty.

A tear escapes, sliding down my cheek before I can stop it. The drugs amplify everything to an unbearable intensity.

Luna catches the tear with her thumb, wiping it away with surprising gentleness. “It’s okay,” she murmurs, her voice suddenly soft. “I always wanted my husband to cry on our first night anyway.”

Her fingers move to my tie, slowly working the knot loose. The silk slides against my collar with a whisper that sounds impossibly loud to my drug-enhanced senses. Despite my emotional distress, my body betrays me, my cock painfully hard from whatever was in that first pill.

“You’re so responsive,” Luna observes, her eyes flickering down to the obvious bulge in my pants.

Luna’s fingers dart to my shirt buttons with unexpected urgency, her earlier gentleness evaporating like morning dew. With a sudden, violent motion, she grips both sides of my crisp white shirt and tears it open. The buttons make tiny popping sounds as they fly across the room, pinging against the walls and skittering across the floor like scattered raindrops.

“Look at you,” she breathes, her pupils dilating until her green eyes are nearly black. The hunger in her gaze reminds me of a predator eyeing wounded prey. “So perfect.”

The cool air against my newly exposed chest feels like ice crystals forming on my skin. Luna’s breath, hot and minty, burns like fire everywhere it touches.

Before I can process what’s happening, she shoves me backward onto the silk sheets. My body bounces slightly on the mattress, helpless and unresisting, as she climbs on top of me with fluid, practiced movements. Her thighs bracket my hips, pinning me in place as effectively as any restraints.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you,” Luna purrs, lowering her face to mine.

Her lips crash against mine, her tongue immediately pushing past my teeth to explore my mouth. She tastes like cigarettes and something chemically sweet, perhaps the same drugs coursing through my system. Her tongue probes the empty socket where my front tooth used to be, and I stifle a gag, my damaged hands twitching uselessly at my sides.

I try to turn my head away, but Luna grabs my hair, yanking it painfully to hold me in place as she deepens the kiss. Her other hand slides down my exposed chest, nails leaving faint red trails across my skin.

“Mmm,” she moans against my mouth, the sound vibrating through my skull like an unwanted echo. “You taste so fucking good.”

The drugs in my system have my body responding despite my revulsion. My cock strains against my pants, and Luna grinds against it with obvious delight. The friction sends unwanted pleasure shooting up my spine, making me whimper pathetically.

“That’s it,” she whispers, her lips moving from my mouth to my neck. “Let me hear you.”

Her teeth sink into the sensitive skin below my ear, not quite hard enough to break the skin but definitely hard enough to leave marks.

Luna’s hands move with savage expertise, tearing at my pants until they’re nothing left around my ankles. The sudden freedom sends blood rushing to my already painfully hard cock, and she lets out a low, triumphant laugh as she grinds against me.

Her fingers reach for the buttons of her Hawaiian shirt, flicking them open with practiced ease. The garish fabric falls away to reveal flawless skin stretched over lean muscle, her breasts full and perfect in a way that makes my heart clench with unwanted desire.

I shut my eyes against the sight, but it’s impossible to block out the feeling of her body pressing down on mine, the heat of her skin searing into me. She positions herself over me, one hand guiding my cock to her pussy as she lowers herself onto me with a shuddering breath.

“Fuck,” she gasps, her head thrown back as she takes me in completely. “I knew you’d feel this good.”

The drugs make everything feel too intense, every sensation amplified until it’s almost unbearable. Her tightness around me sends shockwaves through my body, pleasure, and despair mingling until I can’t tell them apart anymore.

Luna rides me with brutal intensity, her hips slamming down hard enough to bruise. Each thrust sends waves of unwanted pleasure crashing through me. I gasp beneath her.

“Yes,” she moans, her nails digging into my chest as she uses me like a toy. “Just like that.”

Her pace is relentless, each movement calculated to drive me closer to the edge. The world spins around me in a kaleidoscope of color and sensation, Luna’s voice echoing in my ears like a taunt.

“Don’t hold back,” she purrs, leaning down to bite my neck. “I know you love it.”

The pressure builds inside me with terrifying speed, my body responding to her assault with humiliating eagerness. I can’t stop it, can’t fight it. My damaged hands clench uselessly at the sheets as I cum inside her, my cries muffled against her skin.

Luna shudders above me, moaning loudly as she cums in time with my release. Her entire body trembles with satisfaction, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she rides out her orgasm on top of me.

Slowly, she comes back to herself, her eyes gleaming with triumph as she looks down at my spent form.

“See?” she whispers, stroking my cheek with mock tenderness. “That wasn’t so bad.”

Tears sting my eyes as the pure horror of my life once again sets in.

‘My life is over.’

Luna’s laughter fills the room, echoing off the walls like a taunt. She doesn’t give me a moment to recover. My cock stays hard inside her, the blue pill working its cruel magic.

I bite my lip to stifle the pathetic sounds escaping me, tears streaming down my face as she rides me with relentless intensity. Luna sees them and laughs, her voice sharp and mocking.

“Poor baby,” she coos, her nails raking across my chest.

I can’t stop the sob that escapes my throat as she uses me. Again and again, these women rape me endlessly. Each orgasm wrung from my body more degrading than the last. A hell I once wished for.

‘Just kill me god. Let me die.’

“Look at you,” Luna gasps, her movements frantic and wild. “You love this, don’t you?”

“Please just let me go.” I plead.

“Over my dead body.” Luna laughs as she squeezes my cock tighter.