Page 52 of Corruption
“Is that a question?” I quickly interrupted, hearing her sigh again.
“It was, Master.”
“And we know how I feel about those?”
“We do…” she murmured. “But you were gone for a long time. My jaw aches.”
“Good,” I responded before grabbing her arm and helping her stand. Then I released her, letting my fingers graze her shoulder as I walked past her.
“Jared?” she called.
I didn’t answer, letting her wait in suspense as I walked to the closet and retrieved one of my smaller knives. Something beastly had awakened inside me. Everything that had happened, this deal, Vince’s plans, Astrid’s desire to dominate me, had built up a need for a very specific outlet—Alison’s screams, her fear. It was to prove to myself and Vince that I truly held the power. I didn’t want to keep Alison. I didn’t! So I intended to torture her tonight. She wouldn’t even be able to walk when I was done, and she would certainly be bleeding, but her screams would continue to echo in both our ears long after I was spent.
I returned to the bedroom, and Alison heard my approach, turning her head slightly. As I reached out, I grabbed a chunk of her hair, pulling her head back. I placed the knife at her throat, and she gasped when she felt the blade against the exposed part of her collar.
“I know it’s you this time,” she remarked, smiling slightly.
“I know,” I whispered, letting the knife slide lower, tracing a path toward one of her breasts, letting the sharp edge graze her nipple, making her gasp and gulp.
“A-Are you trying to maim me?” she stammered.
“I’m not sure. I’m not in the best of moods tonight, and all I want to do is hurt you, to bring that sweet balance back.”
“But I wasn’t the one to make you angry tonight.”
I ran my lips up to her ear, hearing her sigh softly. “It doesn’t matter. You’ve driven me to do so many things, Alison. Things I didn’t think I was capable of. But then I thought about you, and I was no longer scared because I knew what would come later—payback.”
“Sounds slightly obsessed to me,” she chuckled nervously, but it was clear she was frightened as I held the knife to her breast, threatening her nipple. However, those were the wrong words to say to me tonight, and I growled darkly, ripping her panties before pushing her head a little forward as I withdrew myself entirely.
“Jared? Master?”
I didn’t respond to either name. I simply watched her long blond hair, something she cherished dearly. I reached out, grabbing it all in one hand, seriously contemplating cutting it all off, but it was a signature feature of Alison’s. Could she even be Alison without it? I felt her tentatively lean forward, trying to tug her hair free. However, instead of going through with cutting it all off, I let most of it slip from my hand until only a small lock remained. I severed that small part, and she heard it and felt the hair break.
“W-What did you just do?” she asked, still unable to see.
I leaned in closer, turning her head and teasing her skin with that small lock.
“Jared, that can’t be my hair!” she squealed loudly.
“Don’t worry, just a small lock.”
“So now it’s uneven!”
I found it rather amusing that she could contemplate such things in our current situation. I began toying with the small lock, tracing it down the front of her body, teasing her gently. “You won’t even notice it.”
“You don’t target someone’s hair,” she retorted.
“You did that to me, remember?” I pointed out, teasing her threatened nipple with her hair, eliciting a soft gasp from her.
“But I never actually cut it!” she protested.
“You may not have physically cut it, but you poured the vilest things into it, at times forcing me to trim it,” I explained calmly, observing her reaction as she grappled with the reality that, no matter what she considered unfair, it paled in comparison to the torment she had subjected me to over the years. Our dynamic was finally finding its balance, but the wicked would always claim innocence before showing their true evil.
I brushed her nipple once more, and to escape the sweet torment, she pressed herself closer to me, our bodies colliding. I enveloped her in my arms, ensuring she could feel the knife I still held. I then leaned down, inhaling her pleasant scent, the lingering fragrance of vanilla. It was as if she had drenched herself in that perfume so often that it had become her natural smell. I couldn’t help but prefer Alison’s presence pressed against me over Astrid’s hand on my leg. Astrid had a way of making any man tremble once she had him in her grasp. Yet, I had no desire to be petted, taught to submit, or trained like an obedient pet. I had my own slave, and she tasted like the sweetest surrender when she begged me not to let her climax.
“Do you intend to cut so much of my hair that I’ll be bald by the end of tonight?” she inquired, her tone laced with dry humor.
“I must admit, I’ve considered it,” I replied, my voice darkening. “But your hair is your signature. You’ve always kept it long. Without it, something would be amiss.”
