Page 21 of Payback
-Jared-
I shook off the memories, avoiding the temptation to dwell on the past. Revisiting old memories wouldn’t be productive. It was better to stay focused on the present. The fact that being around Alison triggered recollections wasn’t surprising. I had merely been occupied by the satisfaction of observing her expressions and witnessing her fear, all while relishing my newfound dominance. The intense emotions of triumph and control consumed me as I recognized that she was now powerless against me.
Nevertheless, the past had a way of resurfacing, and I should have anticipated its sudden resurgence. I wasn’t going to let it shake me, though. The real fun between us had only just begun. Opening the car door, I motioned for Alison to step out. She complied, and I retrieved her bag, gesturing for her to follow me with a snap of my fingers. Once again, she obediently trailed behind me as we left the expansive garage and entered my even grander house. The novelty of having substantial wealth at my disposal was still sinking in. Having been accustomed to scraping by and barely managing, having this level of affluence was an odd sensation. Nonetheless, the money was serving its purpose by aiding me in seeking revenge.
The long curtains veiled the windows, casting the interior in a darker ambiance. I switched on only a few lamps, deliberately creating an atmosphere reminiscent of horror. I aimed to scare Alison, but not to the extent that she would be overwhelmed. Cleaning up after her if she were to panic to that degree wouldn’t be enjoyable. I glanced back, noting her cautious steps and her hesitance in entering each room we encountered. I couldn’t help but smile at her wariness, even though it was slightly hampering my plans.
I turned around and approached her, seizing her arm.
“Hey!” she protested, though she didn’t dig her heels in or try to pry my fingers from her arm.
Leading her toward the long staircase adorned with a red carpet, we ascended the stairs, the carpet extending to the room I had meticulously prepared. Adding an extra layer of suspense, I halted us in front of the golden-handled doors, producing a golden key from another pocket. She raised an eyebrow.
“I hope this isn’t an attempt to recreate a scene from Fifty Shades of Grey,” she retorted.
“Close, but I don’t have a helicopter on standby to take you away. You won’t be able to leave whenever you please,” I informed her, echoing Christian Grey’s words while making it unequivocally clear that the contract she had signed didn’t grant her the status of my submissive. She was my slave, and she wouldn’t be able to escape, regardless of her desire to do so.
“Just open the door,” she demanded.
I chuckled. “So Anna,” I teased.
I heard her hold her breath as I unlocked the doors and swung them open. While Grey’s room had been designed for mutual pleasure, this room had an entirely different purpose. Unlike the red walls in his room, these were dark blue, and a cold draft circulated, infusing the space with an icy ambiance. At the far end stood a bed with four posters and big black hoops, ready for her to be bound to. Alison peered inside, her trepidation evident in her eyes as she took in the many toys, restraints, and instruments I could use on her. She shook her head, retreating a step, clearly unsettled by the sight of the blue room.
“No, you must be kidding. You’re not really into hardcore BDSM, are you?” she asked, turning to face me.
“Whether I’m into it or not isn’t crucial for you to know.”
“I’d like to be able to sit down!” she exclaimed.
I chuckled, finding her statement amusing. Sitting comfortably was going to be a challenge from now on. Whether it was due to something she had wedged between her ass cheeks or the result of a whipping, sitting down was bound to be uncomfortable. It seemed she would have to lie on her stomach, always prepared for me.
“Seems like that luxury is fading away,” I noted.
“Jared!” she snapped.
“Ah ah, let’s not forget who you’re addressing,” I reminded her, playfully wiggling my finger.
“Fuck... All right, Master,” she conceded, and I smiled, nodding in approval.
“Yes, my little slut?”
She groaned in frustration, though she didn't act defiantly. Yet, she appeared to be on the verge of a tantrum, which greatly amused me.
“That’s a fucking cage!” she growled, gesturing toward a corner where a metal cage stood, spacious enough for a large dog or a slim woman like Alison. It was designed to fit her perfectly, a detail I had taken care of.
“It certainly is,” I agreed, confirming her observation.
“You can’t be serious,” she muttered, her tone low and incredulous.
My grin widened, and a darkly satisfying sensation enveloped me. I extended my arm. Using a finger to hook beneath her collar, I pulled her closer to me. Startled, she placed her hands on my stomach, using me for support.
“You can also sleep on the floor,” I whispered in a menacing tone.
“I’ll be sleeping in that room?”
“You thought I’d prepared a cozy little space for you to sleep in?”
“I imagined a dim basement,” she muttered, provoking a chuckle from me.
