Page 19 of Payback
“They don’t! He’s my husband!” I insisted.
“Ah, so that grants him a free pass? Is this some kind of game you’re playing, or is your marriage an open one?” he probed.
I crossed my arms as best I could, given his firm grip on my arm.
“It isn’t open. We’re happily married.”
Jared burst into laughter, a sincere guffaw that baffled me. His laughter was a mockery, aimed directly at me.
“What?” I exclaimed in frustration.
“Happily?” he questioned incredulously. “Oh, sweet Alison, you’ve truly fallen deep. Deceiving yourself like this, clinging to the illusion of perfection to preserve your flawless façade and avoid a bitter divorce—it’s pitiable. You didn’t use to be this way.”
“You didn’t know who I was...” I mumbled, shifting my gaze to the side.
“Oh, but I do. I’m acutely aware of who you are, which is precisely why I won’t experience an ounce of guilt as I take you repeatedly, even while you plead for mercy.”
His sinister words fueled my anger, and I glared at him, but refrained from retorting. I reminded myself that failing to comply would result in the gradual exposure of those secrets, leaving me with nothing but ashes slipping through my fingers.
“Now, let’s go,” he ordered, pulling me out of the house. I prayed that no neighbors would catch sight of me, although a part of me secretly hoped they would and would involve the authorities. But what could they really do? I had effectively sold myself, and there was no undoing it now. After locking the door, Jared guided me to his car. Even the vehicle he owned was exquisitely luxurious—a beautiful Mustang. As I took in its appearance, I detested the fact that I couldn’t help but acknowledge its aesthetic appeal. I should have harbored an all-consuming hatred for anything associated with Jared, considering how much I despised him. Despite the blatant treason of my body, he genuinely disgusted me. I wouldn’t have touched him with a hazmat suit if it weren’t for that infuriating contract.
“Get in,” he instructed, guiding me toward the car. However, I placed my hand on the door as he attempted to push me inside.
“I’ll ruin your fancy car,” I warned, hoping that my threat might convince him to permit me to enter the house and clean up. But no, he reached into the bag and retrieved a towel, which he placed on the seat before forcefully guiding me into the car. He slammed the door shut, walked around to the driver’s side, and climbed in. My bag was unceremoniously thrown onto the backseat before he ignited the engine. As he drove away, he appeared remarkably at ease—the aftermath of a satisfying orgasm. Yet I had been denied that relief for an extended period. It was difficult not to fantasize about my vibrator at that moment. It could provide a modicum of relief after the ordeal I’d already endured. Why couldn’t Warren have been more attentive and taken care of my needs? It wasn’t as though I would climax with Jared. I had no desire to, and why should he care about my pleasure? I was now his plaything, available for him to use as he pleased, regardless of how uncomfortable or painful it might be. In his eyes, I had become nothing more than a sex doll.
“So, where are we headed?” I asked.
“You’ll find out,” he replied.
I sighed, allowing my head to rest against the window. This journey promised to be a lengthy one. I could already envision him taking me to a dark forest with a remote cabin. His intention likely involved secluding me where no one could hear my potential screams. He would relish taunting me, reminding me that if I dared to escape, he would track me down and haul me back. The image in my head suited the man seated beside me—malevolent and sinister, much like the forest he intended to transport me to. I would find myself catering to him, serving his meals and dutifully tending to his needs. After all, as my collar proclaimed, I was “Master’s Slut”. The level of humiliation associated with it was indescribable, causing me to slump further into my seat. Closing my eyes, I hoped to catch some rest before our arrival. I needed to conserve my energy, having spent most of the night awake due to nerves. The car maneuvered through a series of turns before embarking on a gradual descent. I opened my eyes, surveying the surroundings, and my panic escalated. The realization dawned upon me that we hadn’t traveled far from my own neighborhood.
“No, no, no...” I whispered. Observing where Jared was leading us, a massive white mansion enclosed by imposing walls, I was seized by panic. Suddenly, the forest and cabin seemed like a refuge compared to this looming edifice. It was too close to home—near people I knew! How long had he resided there? Had he been lurking in the shadows, observing my every move, waiting for the perfect moment to strike? The thought was more unsettling than I could put into words, and I turned to face Jared, who wore a satisfied grin as he parked the car in the midst of other vehicles within the garage.
Chapter 10
-Jared-
I could sense Alison’s gaze on me as she realized our destination. We were barely 15 minutes away from her residence. This was the highlight of it all—I had meticulously prepared this house for the dark games that we would play together. It was a cruel irony that she was being subjected to this so close to her own home. I knew she already despised how I took her on the bed she shared with her husband, but the fact that she was now to be my little slave in such proximity to her home would surely intensify her resentment. I had even considered the option of having her serve me in her very own residence. That would have been an enjoyable twist. However, it wouldn’t have all the elements I wanted to include. It wouldn’t have mirrored her worst fears, despite my capability to shape it into a nightmarish reality.
“You can’t possibly live here!” she exclaimed as I parked the car, turning to face her.
“Why not?” I questioned.
“No, I would have noticed you!” she retorted.
“How? If you hadn’t tormented me, I was nothing but air to you,” I reminded her. “And while I’ve spent years thinking about you, Alison, you never spared me a thought, isn’t that true?”
She glanced away briefly before fixing me with an icy glare. “Why would I waste a single thought on a loser like you?”
It infuriated me how her words still had the power to affect me, even after all these years and everything I’d already subjected her to.
I discreetly adjusted my bangs to conceal the black eye I had earned the previous night, ensuring that no one would see the prominent bruise. I opened my locker, intending to retrieve my books and head to class. However, upon opening it, I was confronted with the sight of foam covering its interior. I stared at the mess in disbelief. This wasn’t the first time my books had been ruined, and while the school had provided replacements, they were growing weary of the books that “I” ruined. They understood the torment I endured from bullies, yet they shifted the blame onto me for damaging the books, rather than holding the real culprits accountable. I couldn’t afford to replace them, and this blow was particularly devastating. All I longed for was a single day where I wasn’t the target, a day when I could be left in peace. But even if they saw the bruises that adorned my body on certain days, they would likely remain indifferent. I closed the locker, knowing that there was nothing salvageable. Making my way to class, I positioned myself at the back, seeking refuge in the shadows.
I knew the precise moment Alison entered the classroom. Her voice, sweet and high-pitched, greeted the English teacher as she presented him with an apple, earning a pleased chuckle from him. On the surface, she exuded perfection, yet if anyone saw the rot that dwelled within her, they would recoil in disgust. I gazed out of the window, hoping she would simply ignore me. Alison always occupied the front seat, the embodiment of a model student, achieving consistent A grades. Surprisingly, she didn’t manipulate others into earning her good grades—she possessed the intelligence to excel on her own terms and reveled in her own intellect. But she delighted in approaching me, taunting me, ensuring I was consumed by fear at the mere anticipation of the bell’s ring, signaling her imminent arrival. However, she remained distant, not even sparing me a glance. Why would the most attractive girl waste her thoughts on someone like me, unless it was in devising new ways to torment me? I wasn’t in her mind during her free time. The obsession was mine alone. I constantly thought about her and pondered how to end this ordeal, yet I remained trapped. As Alison took her seat, her boyfriend soon occupied the adjacent chair. His hand ventured out, fingers finding her thigh and creeping dangerously high, disappearing beneath her skirt. I watched as she discreetly brushed it away, baffled by her actions. While I comprehended her reluctance to get fingered with our teacher present, I anticipated that she might at least hold his hand. Even a teasing glance or a subtle gesture of affection wouldn’t have been out of the question. But she treated him with an unusual detachment, leaving me intrigued. Were they embroiled in a lovers’ quarrel? If that were the case, could I exploit this? Could this serve as the break I had long awaited? Perhaps her emotional turmoil would preoccupy her, preventing her from focusing on me. I couldn’t extend the same hope to her followers, but without her guiding their schemes, perhaps the pranks would remain relatively harmless—no more than shaving cream in my locker. One could only hope.
The class started, and our teacher held up our current study material: “Romeo and Juliet”. Predictably, he began assigning sections for students to read aloud, and out of nowhere, I felt all eyes on me. I had been lost in thought and hadn’t heard my name being called. Lifting my head, I found him standing there, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.
“Jared, the book!” he prompted.
