Page 11 of Payback
“But to vanquish a monster, mustn’t one become a monster?” I pondered. “Sometimes, the virtuous individual doesn’t emerge victorious. Sometimes, the villain must intervene, as he’s capable of accomplishing what the hero never can.”
Her gaze displayed trepidation, as if she believed she could unnerve me with her words. However, this wasn’t a schoolyard. I wouldn’t be swayed by notions of moral improvement. I wasn’t a better person, nor was I aspiring to be one. To reach my goal, I hadn’t undertaken the path of betterment. If anything, I had ventured further into depravity than Alison. So, why should I concern myself with becoming better than her?
“Until we meet again, doggy,” I taunted, sauntering out of her office, the sensation of being on top of the world enveloping me.
-Alison-
I observed Jared walking away, his departure taking the thick tension with him. I pressed myself against the desk behind me, seeking its support. It felt as though I might collapse. These black heels provided no steadiness. A deep sigh of relief escaped my lips, allowing me to feel as though I could breathe once more. Yet, as he faded from view, I was confronted with the reality of my actions. My signature was now etched onto that fucking piece of paper. I had relinquished every bodily right to Jared, essentially permitting him to be my Master. In theory, I was his pathetic slave, there to please him. This realization flooded me with an intense anger that surged through my heart.
I turned around, my gaze sweeping across the pens and small sticky notes at the edge of my table. In a fit of rage, I swiped my hands across the tabletop, venting my pent-up frustration with an anguished scream. It didn’t offer the calm I had anticipated—neither this tantrum nor the earlier blowjob provided the cleansing I needed. I attempted to convince myself that it was merely the adrenaline coursing through my veins that was causing my clit to throb and ache for attention. It couldn’t possibly be due to any enjoyment derived from what had been done to me. That would be absurd—an instance of Stockholm syndrome developing at a rapid pace was implausible. Yet, attraction remained an enigma, without a clear scientific explanation. Although it could be dissected into hormone release and physiological reactions stemming from increased heart rate and dilated blood vessels, it defied full comprehension. Why were certain individuals appealing while others weren’t? Was it the primal brain discerning a suitable mate, or was it a part of the unfathomable mysteries surrounding our world? It was a perplexing query, but one thing was clear: I was fucked in more ways than one. Although the monster might have receded for now, this was merely the beginning. I belonged to him.
“What happened here?” Maddy’s voice echoed through the office. I turned my gaze to her, my hands still resting on the desk, my anger obvious in my panting breaths. She regarded me with apprehension, evidently catching the storm in my eyes. For an instant, my façade wavered, but I knew I couldn’t allow it to crumble just yet. This was precisely what Jared desired. He aimed to shatter me, but I would never surrender to a loser like him. If he believed this ordeal would ruin me, he had gravely underestimated the opponent he was now toying with. I averted my gaze, straightening my attire and brushing my hair back into place.
“Just a minor accident,” I remarked in an unsettlingly calm tone. “I need you to tidy up this desk. I’ll fetch some water.”
“Of course,” Maddy responded obediently.
I pulled my gaze away from her, heading past Maddy. However, I wasn’t headed for the distant kitchen to get water. My destination was the bathroom, and as soon as I stepped inside, I hastened to the sink. Cupping my hands, I filled them with water, lifting them to my mouth in an attempt to rinse away the lingering traces of Jared inside me. I focused on erasing any remnants of him, pushing down the wave of disgust that threatened to engulf me. It wasn’t only disgust toward him, but toward myself as well. I had betrayed my husband. While I justified it as an act to save us both, I couldn’t ignore the fact that his misplaced trust had landed us in this predicament. Once more, I was left to clean up the mess and ensure that the façade remained intact. I couldn’t solely blame my husband for this mess. The monster I had given life to was my creation, but I wouldn’t be trapped by Jared if it weren’t for being tied to such a fucking bastard. A surge of frustration washed over me, and I yearned to scream out my torment, but I held it in. Resting my hands on the counter, I took a series of deep breaths, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. Closing my eyes briefly, I hoped it would help to find my calm, yet my mind was filled with unwelcome images of Jared. Was he already invading my thoughts? Could it be so effortless for him to infiltrate my mind? My eyes snapped open, a glare directed at my own reflection.
“You have no clue who you’re messing with,” I growled under my breath.
Trembling with contained fury, I felt it resonate deep within me. I longed to unleash it, but I was still at work, in an environment where I had to maintain control. Inhaling deeply, I composed myself before venturing back to my office. As I positioned myself before my now orderly desk, an unsettling sensation persisted. It felt as though I was a bystander, observing myself as if from the sidelines. I could visualize myself kneeling in front of him, enveloping his thick cock with my mouth, pleasuring him until he climaxed down my throat. His grunts echoed in my ears, and I could feel his length against my tongue. I could even taste him.
A low groan escaped me as I raked a hand through my hair, then abruptly pulled it away, as if the contact was tainted by his touch. Could I be losing my sanity? No, I was simply out of my game. I stopped playing long ago. That era was over, and I had evolved. I wasn’t the same person anymore. I had grown, evolved beyond those trivialities. However, I was an expert in deciphering Jared’s vulnerabilities. I could shift the balance, force him to yield, and he would realize the futility of trying to triumph over me. I would always emerge victorious. It was a promise I made to myself.
I drove up to my house, an unsettling feeling coursing through me as I dreaded to enter it. I wasn’t afraid that my husband would discover I had had another man’s dick in my mouth, but because I knew what awaited me. Everything Jared had forewarned me about was about to unfold. My husband’s joyous tales of his upcoming business trip, his wonderful news—he would share it all, and I would be obliged to sit there, smile, and feign happiness. Fortunately, my training as the dutiful, cheerful wife was second nature to me.
A heavy sigh escaped me as I leaned my head back, the soft music still playing as I hesitated to switch off the car’s engine. It was as if the moment I did, I would fully be Jared’s. How had we come to this point? I understood the sweet taste of revenge and its allure, but never had I imagined that an emo kid would waltz into my life with the intention of dismantling it. And what made matters worse was his means to execute his plan. He possessed all the dirty secrets, combining them into one big figurative red button. A mere push was all it would take. And how did I prevent his finger from pressing it? I would be at his beck and call. Whether it meant kneeling or spreading my legs open at his command, I would do it. My fury surged back, anger bubbling up like a pressure cooker until it exploded. I screamed, pounded my hands onto the steering wheel repeatedly until my voice grew hoarse and my energy depleted. Tears streamed down my cheeks, a blend of fear and frustration. The emotions demanded an outlet, and when it was over, I rested my forehead on the wheel, breathing deeply.
“You won’t break me. Fucking Jared Tyler will never win. He’s nothing,” I whispered fiercely, a mantra to fortify my weakening strength. I was determined to withstand his sick games, emerging as the victor. I envisioned myself reclaiming my autonomy and freeing myself from his clutches, even if it meant burying him in a dark ditch. The idea of murder was foreign to me, but in that moment, it felt like a valid consideration. Yet, I knew there were alternative ways to shatter a person. It was about identifying their vulnerabilities, then driving the blade into those weak points, twisting it until their defenses crumbled, allowing their weaknesses to spill forth. Jared might have returned stronger, but there could only be one victor in this wretched war, and I was determined that it would be me. If he assumed I would bow, he gravely underestimated the strength of Alison Brown.
Reaching out, I turned off the car’s engine, shrouding the surroundings in silence. “You can do this,” I whispered, drawing back and taking one final, deep breath. Collecting my belongings, I opened the car door and walked toward the entrance. Summoning a smile to my lips, I crossed the threshold into the dimly lit house.
“Honey, I’m home!” I called out
“In here, love!”
I stowed away my belongings, making sure my smile remained intact as I stepped into the kitchen. Much to my astonishment, my husband had gone all out and orchestrated an enchanting dinner, complete with a private chef to prepare our meal. The doors leading to the porch were flung wide open, casting a warm glow from the burning candles. There, in the center of the kitchen, stood my wonderful and handsome husband, elegantly dressed and holding two wine glasses. I understood that on any regular day, he would only put forth such effort if he had an ulterior motive or some news to convey. Had it not been for Jared’s intrusion, I might have been fooled into thinking he was merely going above and beyond for our date night. However, I was now better informed, aware of what lay in store after our meal. I couldn’t even be certain he’d be able to restrain himself until we finished the first course.
Approaching him, I was keenly aware of my trembling hand as I accepted the glass from him. To steady my nerves, I took a sip, and he did the same. Despite this, my thirst was unquenched, prompting me to swiftly finish my drink. An exuberant “Ah” escaped me, drawing my husband’s bewildered gaze.
“Long day?” he asked, a hint of amusement coloring his voice.
“Clearly,” I chuckled.
“Any problems?”
Answering that question was not straightforward. If only it were as simple as being honest and transparent, but even my husband couldn’t shield me from the predicament I found myself in. When had he ever been my savior? I pondered. To be honest, my unyielding loyalty and the need to maintain my image had led me to stick my neck out for him. Embezzlement was far from a trivial offense. It was punishable by years in jail. Had I not been so foolish as to provide my husband with the money, Jared wouldn’t have this leverage over me. And if my dark secret had only been about my husband being unfaithful, I could somehow weather it. Even the truth about my infertility, I could turn around. But now, Jared held the power of blackmail and extortion, though I reasoned that honesty would disarm that threat. Could I ever do that? As I wrestled with this internal debate, I found myself unsure whether I preferred the harsh reality to surface about that young woman or if I’d rather endure being fucked a hundred different ways. The weight of my ego resisted public humiliation, and I found myself wanting the dark secret to remain even deeper buried.
“A demanding day,” I responded, hiding the true terror lurking beneath my calm demeanor.
“Well, I’m certain a delightful dinner will ease your mind,” he suggested, extending his hand.
Smiling, I took it, allowing him to pull me closer. His arm enveloped me, and I nestled against him, relishing the embrace. The fragrance of the food enveloped us, offering a momentary reprieve from the impending storm. Briefly, I allowed myself to believe the devil wasn’t ready to knock at our door tomorrow. I allowed myself to pretend it was merely a simple date night with my husband, free from worries, as he guided me outside. Assisting me in settling down, he poured more wine into my glass, which I savored at a leisurely pace. Seated across from each other, we exchanged smiles.
“You appear content,” I observed, trying to push toward the moment I would stand utterly alone. Even my husband wouldn’t be by my side—he’d be overseas or wherever his business journey had taken him.
“I am,” he admitted, yet his revelation remained guarded. He was well aware of my reaction. I would offer my smiles and nods, feigning happiness and genuine interest in his success. I’d then lapse into silence, likely conjuring reasons why sex wasn’t on the agenda tonight. But maybe tonight was precisely when I needed it—a final bang before everything spiraled. A grand finale, as they say. Though my yearning for my husband’s touch was fierce, his mood seemed to differ greatly from mine, maybe once a month if I were fortunate. However, this evening, I hoped he could fuck me so well that Jared’s memory would be wiped clean, overshadowed by my husband inside me. In that moment, I decided that tonight we would be screaming our lungs out, before I condemned myself to the impending darkness.
