Page 28 of Payback
“Not even you would go that far.”
“I won’t use protection, and I’ll come inside you repeatedly,” I assured her.
“Then put me on birth control!” she pleaded.
“No.”
“You’re insane!”
“You’re quite familiar with insanity,” I pointed out.
“I’ve never ventured as far as you!”
“Alison, we haven’t even approached the boundaries you crossed,” I snarled, digging my fingers into her thigh and observing her struggle to mask the pain. “You transgressed far worse than you can comprehend, or perhaps you’ve conveniently blocked it from your memory.”
Alison’s glare intensified, and I extended my arm, displaying the burn scar along the side of my left arm. It was several inches long, partially healed—smoother and lighter in color than my surrounding skin. Though she averted her gaze, I forced her to look.
“Remember this?” I asked.
She remained silent.
“In the chemistry lab, you and your clique cornered me and inflicted this burn. Why? Because you hadn’t secured an A on your last test. Your charms didn’t work on our chemistry teacher, and you were forced to exert more effort than you were accustomed to. Despite your intellect, your allure played a significant role. You earned a B, and hence, I became the target. Do you honestly believe we’ve even come close to your evil depths, Alison? This is merely scratching the surface.”
“I... had anger management issues,” she muttered, glancing away.
“That’s putting it mildly. We both know it wasn’t anger propelling your actions against me. It was the satisfaction of exerting dominance over another. You derived pleasure from that. Perhaps the only silver lining for me was realizing I wasn’t your sole victim. You were ruthless, and maybe that’s why your womb remains empty. It’s freezing in there.”
Her head snapped around, a retort poised on her tongue. A mere arched eyebrow from me stifled her response. Her mouth closed, her gaze averting downward.
"Then it’s a good thing there will never be a child conceived by us, given how I'm such a cold bitch!” she retorted.
“Indeed. You would be a horrible mother,” I uttered, lacing my voice with pure contempt.
Her eyes met mine again, and I sensed my words striking her most sensitive vulnerabilities, pushing her closer to the edge. There was a time when I wouldn’t dare speak back, aware of the repercussions. Setting off Alison’s anger would certainly exact its price. However, now the tables were turned—she was under my control. I could converse with her on my terms, expressing the feelings I’d long harbored.
“We are just getting started,” I proclaimed.
I rose from the bed, leaving her there, to proceed to the shower and change. Yet, I detected a gasp escaping her lips as she finally noticed it.
Chapter 15
-Alison-
I detested how he managed to strike raw nerves with precision. Jared shouldn’t possess the capability to drive a knife into my weak spots, yet this particular weakness hadn’t existed before. Our last encounter had been during my youth—an era where I was nothing but a teenage girl, devoid of any contemplation regarding motherhood. That reality had since altered. I was now married, held a respectable job, and possessed a home that could accommodate a family. I understood I had the potential to provide a superior upbringing than what my parents had offered, but that opportunity remained out of reach. Thus far, there hadn’t been a glimmer of pregnancy for me. Jared was aware that his insinuations about impregnating me would evoke a paralyzing anxiety, and his intention had been achieved. Fortunately, the likelihood of that scenario materializing was exceedingly slim, which assuaged the overwhelming dread. However, it appeared our conversation had prompted his departure. Yet, as he pivoted, I caught sight of his back—a detail that had eluded me in the midst of our commotion. Now, as the energy settled down and the light cast an illuminating glow on his back, I observed it: extensive scars crisscrossing his skin. These scars were big and curvy. Had someone subjected him to a whipping?
“I wasn’t responsible for those,” I called out to his retreating figure, vanishing into an adjacent room.
He remained silent, leaving me to grapple with the mystery of those scars. How had those marks come to be etched into his back? My previous assumption that the damage was concentrated on the front had been shattered by the reality of his back’s condition. The extent of the damage left me astounded. Who could have been responsible for such an assault? Leaning my head back, I succumbed to the overwhelming sense of defeat that had taken hold. I was still drenched in his cum, a twisted satisfaction lingering within me. Shame began to surge more forcefully, and my mind replayed the instance when he had brought me to climax with his mouth. Was that what it felt like getting licked until coming?No!I scolded myself internally. I couldn’t perceive it as a revelation to orgasm on Jared’s tongue. I needed to escape from these restraints.
Frustrated, I tugged at the ropes, striving to free my slender wrists. However, his knots were mercilessly tight, digging into my flesh. Annoyed groans escaped my lips as I glanced down to inspect my thigh. Lifting it for a clearer view, I identified a small “J” etched on the inner side. Jared could have chosen a larger and more conspicuous marking, yet he had opted for a size similar to the one on his chest. Nevertheless, I found it difficult to believe he had executed it. Or maybe I could believe it. I comprehended the rationale behind his action, but simultaneously, it seemed irrational if he genuinely intended to conceal the torment that he intended to subject me to. The scar wasn’t going to vanish. I recognized that a mere shower wouldn’t obliterate it. With proper care, it might fade over time. Some scars truly disappeared, but I couldn’t ascertain whether this one would follow suit. If it did, there was the possibility he might return to carve another. Amidst these thoughts, I couldn’t help but question why I had done the same to him.
Straddling Jared’s lower body, I had sliced open his t-shirt using a pair of scissors I had borrowed from the school office. I had concocted a pretense about requiring it for an important assignment. Then I had tracked down Jared, who often took refuge in the library, concealed within shadowy nooks or lurking behind the school building. Despite his attempts to evade me, I had managed to corner him. A little assistance had accompanied me, and together we had ambushed him. I had stuffed portions of his t-shirt into his mouth, ensuring his protests remained unheard as we concealed ourselves in a secluded spot known for secret hookups. A smile played on my lips as I loomed over him, revealing a small pocket knife. His eyes widened in fear, presuming I intended to mutilate his chest. However, my intention was quite different. A dog required a master, and since I couldn’t literally collar him, this method seemed like the next best option. While my two closest friends restrained his hands, the t-shirt muffling his words, I aimed to create a lasting mark and claim what was mine.
“Fear not, this will be fast. I’m merely ensuring you’ll never forget who your favorite owner is,” I jeered, lowering the knife and bringing it close to his skin. In a taunting manner, I traced the knife down his chest, simulating the possibility of piercing through to end his pitiful existence. But no, I let the blade dance across his skin’s surface, relishing his protests and observing the formation of tears in his eyes. The exhilarating sensation of seeing his terrified expression, believing I possessed the capability to end his life, surged through me. While murder wasn’t my intention, his belief brought a smile to my lips.
“Now remain still,” I instructed, leaning in closer. Executing the task meticulously, I etched into his skin, the blade’s tip gliding slowly over his flesh. He wriggled, emitting stifled complaints, yet none heard him. With the knife poised so close, he knew better than to engage in a true struggle. It concluded more swiftly than I’d anticipated, but now a small “A” adorned his chest, an unmistakable emblem of ownership. Everyone now knew to whom he belonged. He was my little doggy, and that fact was immutable. Extending my hand, I patted his cheek while removing the fabric from his mouth.
“You’ve done admirably,” I complimented, observing the glimmer of fear in his eyes. “Now the world knows who owns you.”
