Chapter 29

Twenty-Nine

I never thought I'd step foot in that science building basement again. The very thought of it made my skin crawl, my heart pound, and my breath hitch. But there I was, descending the grimy stairs, the scent of mildew and old concrete filling my nostrils, a taste of dread on my tongue.

The door at the bottom of the stairs was gone, a gaping maw inviting me into the belly of my own personal hell. I hesitated for a moment, my hand gripping the cold metal railing, my breathing shallow. But then, I thought of Owen, of the pain he'd put me through, the way he'd manipulated and used me. My resolve hardened, and I stepped into the room.

There he was, the boy who'd turned my life into a nightmare, handcuffed to the same pipe he'd once chained me to. The sight of him there, at my mercy, sent a jolt of satisfaction through me. He looked up as I entered, his eyes bright with a sick sort of excitement.

"Kira," he breathed, his voice trembling with anticipation. "I knew you'd come."

I didn't respond. Instead, I walked over to him, my steps measured and deliberate. I examined the handcuffs, ensuring they were secure. I didn't want him squirming free at the last moment. Next to him laid a ball gag, a blindfold, a knife, and earplugs. I picked up the ball gag, the material rough against my fingertips, and I remembered the way the ring gag had pried my mouth. I remembered the blindfold, the way it had plunged me into darkness, and the earphones, the way they had isolated me in a world of loud music and sensation.

With a sense of grim determination, I fitted the gag into Owen's mouth, feeling a twisted sense of justice as he struggled to adjust to the intrusion. I secured the blindfold over his eyes, cutting off his line of sight, and I pushed the earplugs into his ears, severing his connection to the outside world.

For a moment, I just stood there, looking down at him, bound and helpless. This was the boy who had tormented me, who had taken pleasure in my pain. And now, he was offering himself up to me, believing that this would somehow balance the scales, that this would somehow make things right between us.

But it wouldn't. Nothing could erase what he'd done. No amount of revenge could undo the damage.

I turned on my heel and walked away, leaving him there in the darkness, alone with his thoughts and his guilt. The sound of my footsteps echoed in the empty room, a haunting reminder of the time he'd left me there, at his mercy.

I emerged from the basement into the chill of the evening air, the taste of freedom sharp and sweet on my tongue. I got into my car and started the engine, the familiar hum a comforting presence in the chaos of my thoughts. I drove without really seeing the road, my mind a whirlwind of emotion.

It wasn't until I found myself parked outside a sex shop that I realized where I was headed. I sat there for a moment, my heart pounding, my palms sweaty. I'd never been to a place like this before, had never had a reason to. But things were different now. I was different now.

I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, the neon lights of the shop casting a lurid glow on the pavement. I pushed open the door and stepped inside, the scent of leather and lube heavy in the air. The shop was a maze of shelves and displays, filled with items I couldn't even begin to understand.

A young woman with purple hair and a nose ring approached me, her expression friendly and non-judgmental. "Can I help you find anything?" she asked, her voice soft and melodic.

I nodded, my throat tight with nerves. "I need... I need something to help me take control," I said, the words feeling strange and foreign on my tongue.

The woman smiled, her eyes understanding. "I think I can help with that," she said, leading me deeper into the labyrinth of the shop.

The weight of the bag on my arm felt like a badge of honor as I descended the stairs once more. My heart thrummed with anticipation, a stark contrast to the fear that had previously gripped me in this place. I was no longer the helpless girl cowering in the dark. I was stronger now, braver. I was in control.

The basement was just as I'd left it, the air heavy with the musk of Owen's helplessness. I approached him slowly, taking in the sight of him. The boy who had once seemed so powerful was now reduced to this: drooling around the ball gag, his body wracked with sobs that echoed off the cold, concrete walls. I watched him for a moment, feeling a surge of power course through me. It was intoxicating, this sense of dominance, but it was tempered by the reminder of why I was here, of the pain he'd caused me.

I reached for the knife he'd left beside him, the blade glinting menacingly in the dim light. Owen jumped as I cut away his clothes, the fabric falling away to reveal his bare skin. He melted into the air mattress the moment he realized it was me, his body going slack with relief—or perhaps it was resignation.

I rolled him onto his stomach, his arms twisted awkwardly above his head, his body exposed and vulnerable. I stepped back for a moment, taking in the sight of him like this. Naked, bound, and at my mercy. It was a moment I wanted to savor, to imprint on my memory. This was my revenge, my retribution for all the ways he'd hurt me.

The harness and dildo felt foreign in my hands as I held them up, the silicone cool against my skin. I fastened the harness around my hips, adjusting the straps so that it fit snugly over my clothes. I looked down at Owen, his body trembling with anticipation—or was it fear? I couldn't tell, and honestly, I wasn't sure I cared.

I picked up the bottle of lube, turning it over in my hands. I imagined the slickness of it, the way it would ease the passage of the dildo into Owen's body. But then I thought better of it. This wasn't about pleasure—not for him, at least. I wanted him to feel discomfort, to understand just a fraction of the pain he'd inflicted on me.

I spat on the dildo, the saliva glistening briefly before beginning to dry. It wasn't much, but he didn’t deserve the comfort and I wasn’t heartless to leave him completely without. I positioned myself behind him, the head of the dildo nudging against his entrance. I placed my hands on his hips, feeling the tension in his body, the way he seemed to hold his breath.

And then, with one swift motion, I thrust forward, driving the dildo into him. He gasped, a strangled sound that was muffled by the gag. His body tensed, his muscles clenching around the intrusion. I could feel the power dynamic shifting between us, the balance of control tipping in my favor.