The Contracted Stripper

Iris lay in the bed, the dim light casting eerie shadows on the walls, deepening the sense of isolation that had become her constant companion.

Her body, weakened by the confinement and the minimal rations she was given, felt heavy and unresponsive. The baby within her moved slightly, a faint reminder of life, but even that small comfort was overshadowed by the relentless despair gnawing at her soul.

The single hand that was free from the restraints rested limply by her side, a minor concession that allowed her some semblance of humanity in this hellish prison.

The other hand was tied securely to the bed frame, the rough rope biting into her skin whenever she tried to shift even slightly.

The door creaked open, a sound that usually signaled the arrival of her captors or the cold nurse, but this time, it was different.

Iris was only half aware of the intrusion, her exhaustion weighing down her eyelids as she drifted in and out of a restless sleep.

A figure moved silently into the room, his footsteps muffled against the cold, hard floor.

It was one of the guards, his hulking presence casting a dark shadow over Iris as he approached the bed.Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

She stirred slightly, her body instinctively tensing as she felt the unnatural closeness of another human being.

But before she could fully rouse herself, the guard was upon her, his rough hand clamping down over her mouth to stifle any cries for help.

Iris’s eyes snapped open, panic surging through her like a jolt of electricity. She tried to scream, but the sound was smothered by the guard’s filthy hand.

Her free hand shot up, clawing at his arm, but her strength was no match for his brute force.”Shh, don’t fight it,” the guard hissed, his voice thick with malice.

“It’ll be over soon enough.”Terror flooded Iris’s veins as she realized what he intended to do. She thrashed wildly, her bound limbs hindering her attempts to escape.

Desperation gave her strength, and she managed to twist her head just enough to sink her teeth into the guard’s hand.

He yelped in pain, jerking his hand away and glaring down at her with murderous rage.

“You little bitch!” he spat, and without warning, his hand came down hard across her face.

The slap reverberated through Iris’s skull, her vision blurring as pain exploded across her cheek. The force of the blow sent her head whipping to the side, and for a moment, she was too stunned to react.

But then, as the sting of the slap faded, it was replaced by a cold, creeping dread that seeped into her bones

. Just as the guard loomed over her again, ready to resume his assault, the door burst open. The other guards rushed in, their faces twisted with a mixture of confusion and anger. The leader of the group stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

“What the hell are you doing?” the leader demanded, his voice a dangerous growl.

The guard who had attacked Iris froze, his aggression momentarily stilled by the presence of his superiors. He tried to stammer out an excuse, but the leader cut him off with a sharp gesture

.”Get him out of here,” the leader ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Now.”Two of the other guards grabbed the offending man, dragging him out of the room as he struggled and protested.

The leader watched them go, his expression hard as stone, before turning his attention back to Iris.

She was curled up on the bed, her body trembling uncontrollably as tears streamed down her face. The spot where her head had been resting was damp with her tears, the bedding soaked with the evidence of her fear.

The leader’s eyes flickered with something almost akin to pity, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by the cold detachment that had kept him alive in this line of work.

“You’ll be safe now,” the leader said gruffly, though the words rang hollow in the heavy silence of the room.

Without waiting for a response, he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Alone once more, Iris let out a choked sob, her entire body quaking with the force of her emotions.

She curled up tighter, clutching her free hand to her chest as if it could somehow shield her from the horrors of this place.

Her head throbbed where the guard had struck her, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish that clawed at her heart

. As she lay there, the room spinning around her, something strange began to happen.

Flashes of images flickered behind her closed eyelids-disjointed, fragmented memories that didn’t quite make sense.

A man’s face, his features blurred and indistinct, hovered in her mind’s eye, and then a woman, her voice soft and comforting, calling Iris’s name. Iris… Iris…

The voice was familiar, like a half-remembered dream, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t place it.

The images came and went, like the flicker of an old film reel, each one more elusive than the last. The man’s face appeared again, this time with a tender smile, but it faded before she could grasp its significance

. Iris clamped her free hand over her ears as if she could block out the relentless assault of her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the images to stop, but they persisted, a cruel reminder of the life she couldn’t remember.

“Mum… Mum, is that you?” she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her despair. But the only response was the hollow echo of her voice in the empty room.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook her, and she slipped into a fitful sleep, the images still haunting her even in her dreams.

The man’s face, the woman’s voice, they were always there, just out of reach, taunting her with the memories she had lost.

When Iris awoke, it was with a start, her heart racing as the last remnants of the dream clung to her consciousness. The room was just as cold and dark as it had been before, but something had changed within her.

The images, the voices-she couldn’t ignore them anymore. They were pieces of a puzzle, fragments of a life she had once known, and she was determined to put them together.

She sat up as much as her restraints would allow, her mind buzzing with a newfound clarity.

Who were the people in her memories? And why were they so important? She needed answers, but first, she needed to survive long enough to find them.

Her hand absently traced the outline of her swollen belly, the only thing anchoring her to reality. The baby was a part of her-someone she had to protect at all costs.

The thought gave her strength, and she resolved to be more vigilant, more cautious. She couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes.

A few hours later, the door opened again, and the nurse entered, her expression as indifferent as ever.

She approached Iris with the same mechanical efficiency, checking her vitals and ensuring the baby was healthy. But this time, Iris was watching her closely, looking for any sign, any clue that might help her understand what was happening to her

.”You’re awake,” the nurse remarked, her tone flat. “How are you feeling?”Iris’s voice was stronger than before, the fear replaced by a steely resolve.

“I’m fine,” she replied, her eyes boring into the nurse’s.

“Who am I? Why can’t I remember anything?”

The nurse didn’t meet her gaze, busying herself with adjusting the bedding. “I told you before, it’s better not to remember,” she said curtly. “Just focus on keeping yourself and your baby alive.”

Iris clenched her fists, frustration bubbling up inside her. “You keep saying that,” she snapped. “But I need to know. Who’s doing this to me? What do they want?”

The nurse hesitated, a flicker of something, guilt, perhaps?-crossing her features. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “It’s not my place to say,” she muttered, turning away. ”

Just stay quiet and do as you’re told. That’s the only way you’ll survive.”As the nurse moved to leave, Iris called after her, desperation lacing her voice. “Please, just tell me one thing. Who are the people in my memories? The man, the woman-who are they?”

The nurse paused at the door, her hand on the handle. For a moment, Iris thought she might answer, but then she shook her head, her expression hardening.

“Forget them,” she said coldly. “They don’t matter anymore.”With that, the nurse exited the room, leaving Iris once again with more questions than answers.

The silence pressed down on her, suffocating and relentless. But Iris wasn’t about to give up.

She knew she needed to be strong, for herself and her unborn child. She didn’t know how long she had been there or how much longer she would have to endure, but she wasn’t going to let them break her.

Hours blurred into days as Iris lay in the darkened room, her body weak but her mind growing sharper with each passing moment. She was determined to figure out a way to escape, to outsmart her captors and find her way back to freedom-whatever that meant for her now.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a dull orange glow through the window, Iris heard the faint sound of voices outside her door.

She strained her ears, trying to catch snippets of the conversation, her heart pounding in her chest.

“She’s getting weaker,” a man’s voice said, low and rough.”That’s not our problem,” another voice replied, this one more authoritative.

“We were given orders to keep her alive, nothing more. Just make sure she doesn’t die before they’re ready for her.”Iris’s blood ran cold at their words. They’re ready for her. What did that mean? What were they planning to do to her? Fear clawed at her insides, but she forced herself to stay calm, to listen closely.