Pure Vengeance

Chapter 11

Desolation

Hannah

Perched on the edge of the broken plastic toilet seat, she allowed another tear to stream down her face. The bathroom had turned out to be little more than a broom closet with dirty facilities and the tiniest basin she’d ever seen, but she guessed it was better than being strapped down in the chair. Who knew if that was where she’d end up next, but at least he’d allowed her a reprieve.

Her gaze flitted to the dreary ceiling, wondering if she should now be grateful to be naked and unbound. The inches of plastic shoved into her arse told her yes, but her nudity begged to disagree. Her captor had taken the opportunity to strip her entirely once she was freed from the chair, and naturally, her concerns about the possible shocks he’d bestow if she failed to comply ensured she had.

The nicotine-stained wallpaper that was peeling from the wall opposite her summed up her situation perfectly—it was tired and inevitable. Her mind was still overcast from whatever he’d given her, and her body ached from the hours of confinement. Deep down, she couldn’t ignore the nagging sense that she should somehow have seen this coming. She should have realized that a man as aligned with her needs as Saul was too good to be true, but she thought she’d played it safe, thought that letting her friends know where she was going and meeting in a public place was enough to keep her safe.

I was wrong.

Little had she known, a monster had been on her tail.

At least I’m free from the binds.

She glanced at her wrists as the chirpy little voice tweeted in her head. Yes, she was free to relieve herself, and yes, he’d allowed her to use an actual toilet, but she’d rarely felt more enslaved than she did shivering in the dank little room. She was liberated from the chair, but the future looked uncertain.

Fresh trepidation twisted inside her at that suffocating thought. He could do anything to her, and she was helpless to resist. Even if she could overpower him, which was exceptionally unlikely, she was too worried about the consequences to try. Just standing from the toilet seat induced stress as she worried that her tensing muscles might provoke the dreaded dildo. Her breaths came faster as she anticipated how excruciating the burst of pain would be.

Lawes had said he wouldn’t emit the shock, had said it was only there as a deterrent, but she didn’t believe him. He’d bought the damn thing, hadn’t he? Had saved whatever miserly money an ex-con got and had conjured this grim place and the apparatus to keep and torment her. Experience had taught her not to trust. Being too trusting had landed her in this new nightmare in the first place.

Gripping the edge of the dusty basin, she wiped her tears with the heel of her other hand. She had to get a grip of herself, had to?—

“What are you doing in there, little girl?”

Lawes’ voice traveled through the flimsy plank of wood that doubled as a door, though as she spun to face the sound, she reasoned she should probably be grateful for any privacy at all. He’d rarely afforded her any the last time, but then, on that occasion, he hadn’t threatened to electrocute her.

“Washing my hands, Mr. Lawes.” Reaching for the rusting faucet, she twisted the head and waited as the water system groaned into life.

“No need.” New urgency echoed in his tone. “I have antibacterial hand gel. That will suffice. Come out now… on your knees.”

Her heart fell at the final order, fresh tears pricking in her gaze. She had been hoping to wash his dried cum from her face, but apparently, even that was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

Better not to piss him off. The taunting fullness at her backside advised. Better do as he says.

Switching off the faucet, she heaved in a breath, thankful there was no mirror for her to witness her own sorry appearance. The last thing she wanted to see was the evidence of how low she’d fallen so fast. It was too demoralizing.

Whatever happened next, she’d have to bear it, although goodness only knew how. In the short term, it would mean obeying his ridiculous commands and being his good little girl. Her stomach lurched at the idea.

No choice.

She’d have to comply. However she felt about the role.

Opening the door between them, she inched out of the cubicle onto the thinly-worn carpet and fell to her knees. It didn’t matter that her joints protested as they met the floor, nor that her face flamed as she acknowledged her new position. She had to endure.

“Show me your hands.” He barked the instruction, and wordlessly, she held her palms aloft.

“Here.” He squirted the gel on her upturned palms. “Clean them.”

She obeyed accordingly, trying to stretch the limited quantity he’d offered as far as she could.

“I have another present for you.” His index finger reached under her chin and compelled their gazes to meet as he slid the bottle of gel into his back pocket.

Hannah held her breath. Would he see that she’d been crying? What would he think?

The seconds dragged on around her as his green eyes surveyed her face, and for the longest time, his attention suspended her there, paralyzing her movements and breath.

“Here.” His free hand rose to reveal the so-called gift. “This is for you.”

Her focus flitted to find out what he had in store for her next, her throat drying as she took in the alleged present. It appeared to be a collar—black and relatively thin—the type of thing she’d only seen previously on small dogs.

“It’s real leather.” He released her chin and spread the band open. “We both know how much you like collars, little girl.”

Her heart thundered in recognition as she surveyed her fate, her mind clouding as he wrapped the leather around her neck. She liked the idea of pet play, sure, but not like this—not when she was at the mercy of a madman.

The ache in her head returned with full force as he tugged the leather closed around her neck. She thought to grab it and resist, but fear about electric reprisals held her back. Instead, she pressed her palms against her thighs, noticing the way her limbs trembled. The collar wasn’t especially thick, tight, or uncomfortable, but it was what it represented that disturbed her.

That she was only an animal, his to do with whatever he chose.

Her mind was immediately littered with assertions about how it couldn’t be happening to her and how she’d wake up at any moment, but she knew they weren’t true. The false reassurances no longer offered any comfort.

This was her reality, to be a collared, quivering woman with no agency over either her body or her future.

“We just require one more thing.” He reached for the wall opposite the bathroom as he spoke, and her gaze rose to follow his hand, her belly knotting as she saw what he intended for her. There, hanging on the wall, was a short, metal dog lead. “Your leash.”

Lowering in front of her, he tugged the D-ring attached to the collar around to the front of her neck before he attached the metal leash. Her face burned at the degradation, panic exploding like fireworks in her head. This was the exact scenario she’d once described to Saul in a saucy exchange they’d shared in the middle of the night. She’d told him how much the idea of pet play turned her on, envisioning fun and consensual dates, not an unequivocal loss of her liberty.

“There.” Satisfaction reverberated from his voice as he crouched before her. “This is what you said you wanted, right?”

“Yes, Mr. Lawes, sir.” It almost killed her to admit it, but she realized there was no point in lies. No doubt, he’d kept those conversations, and he could prove exactly what had been said.

“There’s my good girl.” He patted her head condescendingly as, jerking at the end of the leash, he rose to his full height beside her. “On your hands and knees then. Let’s see how good you are at being my pet.”

He strode off along the hallway, the metal chain between them giving her little choice but to follow. Pressing her hands into the worn carpet, she started after him, brutally aware that not only was she naked but still plugged by the dildo he’d said would release a shock if she failed to please. Struggling to keep up with his pace, her movement was ungainly as she ignored the pleas of her palms and knees.

“You’ll need practice.” He paused, watching her close the distance between them. “But you’ll have plenty of that. I intend to give you everything you asked for, little girl.”

Hannah’s head lowered, noticing the tatty leather of his shoes. Clearly, he’d blown all his cash on her toys and gadgets.

How touching.

“Now you can thank me.” His tone was admonishing, as though she should have known better.

“Thank you, Mr. Lawes, sir.” Staring at his worn-out footwear, she couldn’t recall ever feeling so low.

Yes, he was bringing all of her fantasies to life, but he was doing so without her assent, and once again, he’d taken control of her entire life in order to dominate her. She wasn’t sure how much of another ordeal she could tolerate.

“We’ll work on your gratitude, too.” His voice was knowing. “But first, I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”

Her attention rose to his shins. “Is that a question, sir?”

“No.” Glee practically radiated from him. “The decision is made. Let’s head to the kitchen. I can show you the drinking bowl I have for you.”

She hardly had time to process his words before a hard jerk at her neck insisted she follow him. She watched his tired shoes disappear as she scrambled after him, not allowing her thoughts to disappear down another pit of panic.

He got me a bowl! She heaved in a breath. We talked about that, too, didn’t we?

She hesitated, the memory of their chats temporarily stunning her until the leash tugged her forward. So, that was his plan. She shook her head as he led her down the dark corridor. It was as if the last piece of the puzzle had fallen into place, and suddenly, she understood. He’d set this up for her—whatever he said to the contrary. This entire sorry nightmare was her own personal purgatory—a place where he played the god who owned her, and she followed every one of his warped commands.

He’s giving me everything I said I wanted.

“Here.” He opened the door at the end of the hall and motioned into the new room. She peered around the frame as best she could, only able to make out the edge of what looked like a dining room chair. “Let’s get you lapping like a proper pet.”

Heat grew on her face as she crawled into the lighter room, her misery mingling with her embarrassment. She had asked for this, but she’d never imagined an outcome like the one she now found herself in. She’d believed the worst was over, that it was safe to step out and be honest about her desires.

But she’d been wrong.

“Wait here.” He tied the end of the leash around the top of the chair she’d peeked a look at it. “And don’t even consider being a bad pet, Hannah. Remember, I have the remote control to your dildo in my pocket, and I’d hate to have to use it.”

I bet. She bit back on the retort as he walked off in another direction. I bet he’d really detest having to punish me in the mean and obscure way he’s devised.

She watched as he reached into a shabby-looking cupboard and produced a metal dog bowl. Her sex tingled with anticipation as he filled the bowl with water, even now betraying her base needs as the life she knew hung in the balance.

“Time to drink.” He wandered closer and placed the bowl by his feet. “Get your face in there.”

Edging toward it tentatively, she eyed the clear liquid in the bowl. It certainly looked like clean water, and she supposed she was thirsty.

“Do you need a reminder about who’s in charge?” His curt tone instructed her heart rate to accelerate again.

“No, Mr. Lawes, sir.” She lowered over the bowl.

As her tongue plunged into the cold water, she tried not to dwell on what she was doing or on the heat building between her legs. She couldn’t let his debasing treatment of her or her unfathomable reactions to his treatment bring her to the brink of despair.

Not again.

Not yet.

She had to be strong to play his warped games, and as her tongue lapped at the liquid, there was no choice but to play.

Humbling herself by his feet, only one thing was certain in her mind.

She couldn’t allow Lawes to win.

The End