24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

-Alison-

I didn't mind spending my time in bed when I was mostly sleeping and had no strength to rise, but as I began returning to my former power, albeit slightly altered mentally from the entire experience, I grew increasingly bored. I had nothing to entertain myself with other than the books Jared had given me, which provided no enjoyment as reading was his forte.

So mostly, I spent my time gazing out into the air, as this room didn't even have a TV. Eventually, I couldn't take the idleness anymore and left the bed. Still wearing Jared's t-shirt, I didn't bother with anything else as I began to explore the room. It wasn't that grand, which made me wonder why he had brought me to this place. I was certain this beautiful house had larger bedrooms, but for some reason, he chose this one.

Running my fingertips over the back of the couch, I made my way to the bathroom first, starting to explore the drawers. I wasn't shocked to find a large first-aid kit or the powerful painkillers. However, what did catch my attention were the familiar perfumes, my hairbrush, and even some personal care products filling the drawers. Did Jared know what I was using? As I picked them up, I realized they were mine from my own house. Had he brought my stuff here?

I grabbed my usual signature perfume, inhaling its scent and feeling as if I were back home again. Spraying a little on, I placed it away. Then, I grabbed my hairbrush and began to comb through the roughness of my hair. It was rather painful, but the act brought a sense of peace and normalcy. It also kept my mind distracted, preventing me from dwelling on horrible memories.

When my hair was a smooth, long mane, I put my hairbrush away and continued exploring. I went to the closet next, thrilled to see that he had actually brought some of my clothes here. I walked over to it, grasping a sleeve of a dress and bringing it to my nose, inhaling my own aroma. Familiar scents truly were powerful, bringing such a warm sensation and expelling all negativity before I began to explore the rest of the room. I wondered if I should change into a proper outfit. However, as I reached a drawer that I thought might contain underwear, I was shocked to find something different inside.

A hushed gasp escaped me as I surveyed the assortment of adult toys neatly arranged in holders, seemingly beckoning to be used. Closing the drawer, I grappled with a mix of emotions, uncertain of how to process their presence in this room.

Yet, driven by curiosity, I found myself opening another drawer, revealing restraints within. Moving to a third drawer, I was met with rows of collars. A deep breath escaped me as memories flooded back of the discussion with Jared about my affinity for collars and his promise to bring me a variety to choose from. I shook my head, realizing how much I had changed since then. Just as I was about to close the drawer, a sense of hesitation washed over me.

Momentarily paralyzed, an unsettling impulse urged me to open the drawer once more. I chided myself for the irrational desire to feel the leather against my skin. Yet, upon finding my old collar, a surge of conflicting emotions washed over me. Tentatively holding it up, I couldn't bear to see those letters etched onto it, a reminder of a nickname that had been ruined. Jared had shown restraint by not using it, for which I was grateful.

I reached for yet another collar, this one dark with a little golden ball dangling from it. As I shifted it in my hand, it emitted a faint, melodious sound. It dawned on me that it was a bell. Though I immediately desired to put it away, I found myself drawn to the mirror. There, reflected back at me, was the image of myself holding the slender, dark collar adorned with the golden bell.

"You're being foolish," I whispered to myself, yet in that moment, did I truly have anything more worthwhile to occupy my time?

With cautious movements, I raised my hands and gently looped the leather around my neck. I adjusted it carefully, opting not to secure the lock since I hadn't located the key. After rummaging through the drawers, I finally unearthed the elusive key and decided to fasten the collar securely. Standing before the mirror, key in hand, a smile crept across my face. A soft chuckle escaped my lips, though the reason eluded me. Perhaps it was the fleeting glimpse of the old Alison or simply the empowering sensation of complete possession.

In that moment, those haunting memories seemed to fade, overshadowed by a newfound sense of surrender. I longed to relinquish control to Jared, allowing him to banish the pain that plagued me. A profound yearning enveloped me as I realized I craved his dominance, his ability to rid me of all that was hurtful.

Though tinged with a hint of apprehension, it felt like a necessary step toward overcoming something important. In this unforgiving world, I couldn't afford the luxury of nursing old wounds. I needed to rise above the darkness or risk being consumed by its monstrous depths.

With a resolute nod, I shed the t-shirt, standing exposed in Jared's closet, adorned only by the collar around my neck. I allowed the fabric to cascade to the ground before turning, retracing my steps to the bedroom, contemplating where best to position myself. Should I present myself immediately for his gaze, or perhaps surprise him waiting upon the bed?

I suddenly felt a wave of uncertainty wash over me. Jared had always dictated where I should be, what I should say, even what I should do. It struck me how strangely effortless it had been to surrender to him, yet it also made my choices easy. However, this time, the decision was up to me.

So, where should I position myself? I experimented with various poses: reclining on the couch, then feeling self-conscious and straightening up, crossing my legs, inadvertently exuding an air of professionalism rather than the desired submission to my Master.

Seeking inspiration, I approached one of the windows, pressing myself against it. Yet the chill of the glass and the uncertainty of potential surveillance outside dissuaded me from maintaining such a stance. I refused to offer myself so vulnerably with my backside pressed against the pane.

Retreating to the bed, I settled onto its surface, arms positioned behind me, but the pose felt contrived, lacking the intended allure.

"What's wrong with me?" I murmured, my gaze drifting upward to the ceiling. Once, I possessed the ability to ensnare someone with a mere glance, yet now, I struggled to captivate Jared. It dawned on me then that I had never truly tried to seduce him. While I had sought power in our games, this was different—I craved his primal response to my advances. My earlier attempts in the shower had faltered, leaving me uncertain of my ability to ignite his desire now.

Was simply being naked sufficient, or did I need to engage in something more overtly sensual? Perhaps parting my legs to reveal what I had to offer? Another frustrated groan escaped me as I found myself caught in a cycle of overthinking, though momentarily, it offered respite from other thoughts crowding my mind.

There was a strange sense of amusement in contemplating how best to tantalize Jared. Yet, a nagging voice reminiscent of my younger self urged me to act, driven by the desire to fulfill her dreams.

Amidst the myriad of possibilities swirling in my mind, a realization slowly crystallized—the most effective means of conveying my intentions. So, I waited eagerly on the bed, anticipating Jared's return with food for us. Knowing he worked tirelessly throughout the day, I expected my lunch to be placed outside the door, signaled by a knock indicating I could unlock and retrieve it. This routine was a directive from Jared himself. However, dinner was different. Jared always brought it with him, and I listened intently for the sound of his powerful steps.

As I heard his unmistakable tapping drawing nearer, I hastened to position myself at the foot of the bed, dropping to my knees. I didn't avert my gaze because I yearned to witness his reaction firsthand. With my hair cascading down my back, I presented myself.

Jared unlocked the door and entered, tray in hand. Yet, upon glimpsing me, a smile adorning my lips and the collar snug around my neck, he paused, his expression momentarily one of surprise. The key lay conspicuously on the nightstand, symbolizing his dominion over me.

Undeterred by his initial confusion, I maintained my smile, offering a greeting fitting of my newfound submission, "Welcome back, Master."

Silently, Jared deposited the tray before retreating to the end of the couch, his gaze lingering on me as he leaned against its side. His eyes traced a deliberate path over my form, lingering tortuously, before meeting mine once more.

"It seems my slave has been exploring," he observed with a hint of amusement.

"You're the one who furnished this room with all those toys," I countered, still intrigued by that particular revelation.

"I crafted this space with you in mind," he confessed.

"What?" I murmured, taken aback by his admission.

"I anticipated reclaiming you at some point," he revealed, the implications of his words sinking in. "So, I made preparations accordingly."

"I thought you said we wouldn't stay here permanently," I ventured.

"We won't. But we both know it might be a while before we can leave. I wanted to ensure I had everything I needed to play with you," he explained, his voice adopting that familiar dark and commanding tone that never failed to send shivers of anticipation down my spine.

"Really?" I inquired eagerly.

"Yet, now you've spoiled the surprise," he chided, and I couldn't help but sigh in disappointment.

"I'm bored out of my mind!"

"I've provided you with entertainment," he countered.

"No, you've given me dull old books that lull me to sleep when I attempt to read them," I retorted.

"Good, then you can get some more rest," he remarked.

"I don't want to rest! I want to surrender to you," I declared boldly, noting the surprise flicker in his eyes as I laid bare my desires.

"Alison, it's only been a few weeks, and you're still on bedrest," he reminded me gently.

"Then do something else to me. Anything," I urged.

"I don't think you need me to," he countered softly.

"But I do!"

"Do you truly believe you're ready to endure that kind of touch again?" he questioned, a slight knot forming in my stomach. Yet, I recognized the insidious grip of anxiety all too well. For years, I had allowed my mother to manipulate me until I was unable to resist her control, morphing into a mere puppet dancing to her whims. What if I waited so long that I became terrified of intimacy altogether?

I needed Jared to demonstrate why I shouldn't be consumed by my fears, to guide me back as he had done before.

"Just do something," I pleaded, desperation seeping into my voice. "You know many ways to taunt me. You've proven that before."

"You desire my taunts?" he inquired, his tone tinged with curiosity. "Because verbal sparring is easily arranged."

"I crave your dominance, even your discipline," I admitted.

"I don't think you understand what it will truly do to you," he cautioned.

"I don't think I ever will," I confessed. "But in your presence, I don't need to understand, do I?"

He mulled over my words, seeming to grasp the essence of my plea before pushing himself away from the couch and advancing toward me. My heart quickened with anticipation, yearning for his proximity. Instinctively, I reached out for him as he drew near, only to be met with a warning sound.

"Did I grant you permission to touch me?" he questioned, his voice firm.

I sighed, retracting my hands and folding them in my lap.

"No," I whispered, casting my gaze downward, a conflicting surge of disappointment and exhilaration washing over me.

Jared reached out, his fingers grazing the delicate golden ball that hung from my neck, his gaze filled with admiration as he took in the sight of the new collar adorning me. With gentle precision, he rolled the small trinket between his fingers, each caress sending a ripple of sensation through me, akin to his touch between my legs. A soft gasp escaped my lips, parting slightly as tension crackled in the air once more.

Gradually, his touch ascended, the tip of his finger tracing a tantalizing path over my chin, teasing me, before his thumb delicately traced the outline of my lips. The sensation of his touch, so deliberate and commanding, compelled me to yield completely to his dominance. Leaning forward instinctively, I yearned to taste him, but he withdrew before I could envelop him with my lips.

"Did I permit you to move?" he questioned, his voice echoing with authority as I met his unwavering gaze.

"No," I confessed, my breath coming in ragged pants.

"It seems you've forgotten your lessons, my sweet slave," he taunted, his words igniting a thrill of excitement within me. "Clearly, we have much to rectify."

I trembled with anticipation at the prospect of revisiting familiar rituals of our training. His hand encircled my hair, drawing me closer, yet instead of commanding me to attend to his pants as he typically would, he continued to explore my features with his other hand. Tracing the contours of my face, he teased my lips once more, leaving me panting and trembling with the effort of restraining myself. I yearned to surrender to him completely, yet I understood the importance of obedience, refraining from seizing control unless explicitly instructed.

With patient precision, Jared continued his ministrations, building an exquisite tension within me until I throbbed with desire. Finally, he pressed his finger into my mouth, commanding me to suckle on it. With fervent eagerness, I embraced the freedom granted to express my longing for him, swirling my tongue around his digit, relishing the taste of his skin. In that moment, I realized with certainty: Jared was not a mere fantasy or an imagined escape—he was undeniably real, and from this point forward, he alone would possess me fully. I belonged to him entirely.

He withdrew his hand, and I released his finger with a soft pop, my lips moist with my own saliva.

"Who's your Master?" he taunted.

"You," I whispered, my response eliciting a satisfied gleam in his eyes before his fingers returned to toy with the little bell once more.

"Do you like your new collar?" he inquired.

I nodded, feeling his grip tighten in my hair as he pulled me forward, until my nose hovered tantalizingly close to his erection. A surge of need washed over me, my mouth watering at the memory of what it felt like to have him inside me. I longed for him to purge the lingering bitterness of old memories with new ones, and I leaned even further forward, prompting a dark chuckle that made me meet his gaze.

"Look at you, my pretty little slave, so desperate for your Master's cock that you're practically drooling," he mocked, sending shivers of delight coursing through me at his tone, my nipples stiffening at the mere sound of his laughter. Every inch of my skin ached for his touch, and though he seemed to devour the sight before him, he made no move to satiate my profound yearning.

"Want me to fuck your mouth?" he queried.

"Yes," I breathed.

"Beg for it."

"I want it, Master. Please," I pleaded.

"Why?" he probed, forcing me to confront a truth I wasn't entirely prepared to acknowledge.

"To... To feel someone else," I confessed.

He appeared satisfied with my response, but instead of commanding me to free his cock from his pants, he took matters into his own hands, prolonging my sweet torment. Yet, I noticed a subtle tremor in his hand, a sign that he too was eagerly anticipating the intimate connection.

The tension intensified the pulsating feeling between my legs, a warmth spreading and slickness pooling, prompting me to adjust my position to alleviate the slight discomfort.

"So eager," he taunted, interpreting my shifting as a sign of desperation for him, which in some ways, it undeniably was.

"Can't I touch you?" I ventured, but he shook his head, lowering his pants and underwear just enough to release his throbbing length.

As his hard cock was finally liberated from its confinement, a whirlwind of emotions surged within me—desire, lust, and a hint of apprehension at the memory of his size, intertwined with unsettling echoes of a past I'd rather forget. Yet, before I could dwell on the negative, he began to stroke himself before me, his low panting a symphony to my senses.

A desperate yearning to touch him consumed me, but he continued his ministrations, leaving me to wonder if he intended to climax on me. The thought dredged up unpleasant memories of another man who had sought to mark me with his release as a declaration of dominance.

I couldn't escape the darkness this time, reluctantly lowering my eyes from the sight and resisting the urge to turn away from the potential humiliation.

"Slave, you're not paying attention," he reprimanded, his tone devoid of anger, yet commanding my focus nonetheless.

Restlessly, I shifted against his grip, uncertain if I could endure witnessing the act, feeling foolish for my inability to comply with his simple order when I had implored him to assert his control over me. Frustration bubbled within me, yet he refused to release his hold. A frustrated sound escaped me as I felt the tug on my scalp, drawing me closer to Jared's imposing presence.

"Hey!" he called, his authoritative voice snapping my attention back to him, and I relented, surrendering to him. "Calm down," he instructed.

Tears welled in my eyes, embarrassment flooding over me, rendering me unable to meet his gaze.

"Alison, look at me," he ordered.

"No," I resisted, refusing to yield this time.

"Yes, look at me. Right now," he commanded.

Reluctantly, I obeyed, slowly raising my gaze to meet his. Our eyes locked in a moment of shared understanding, his presence a pillar of stability amidst my turbulent emotions. He persisted in holding me under his control, unwilling to release me, as I waited for him to complete the motion of his strokes.

Instead of doing so, he brought his hand back to my chin, applying gentle pressure before sliding his finger between my parted lips once more. In his touch, he restored my focus and tranquility, dispelling the fear and replacing it with a sensation I found less invasive and distressing. Just as I felt a familiar need rising within me, he withdrew his finger and lowered his hand.

"You're free to touch me," he informed me, catching me off guard. However, that wasn't what I desired, so I shook my head, leaving him puzzled.

"I want you to take control," I insisted.

"Not right now."

"Yes, right now. It wasn't..." I trailed off, sensing his confusion, realizing I needed to articulate my feelings for him to understand my true desire for his rough domination.

"It ended in... ejaculation on me..." I whispered, the realization dawning on him, replaced by a dark smile spreading across his lips.

"That wasn't my intention. I was simply making you wait," he clarified, shedding light on his motive.

As we exchanged glances, a silent understanding seemed to pass between us before he drew me closer, pressing my lips to the tip of his cock. Opening my mouth, I let my tongue slide over the moist head, savoring his taste. Memories flooded back, igniting a sense of pleasure within me.

Jared urged me closer, thrusting into my mouth, eliciting cries of excitement from me as I surrendered completely to his control. His grip tightened on my hair as he drove himself in and out between my lips, his unrestrained sounds of pleasure driving me wild with arousal. I relaxed into the act, a sense of peace washing over me as Jared unleashed his primal desires, ensuring I heard every moan and sigh of delight as he pushed himself deeper into my mouth.

A wave of intense heat spread through my body as he lost himself, succumbing to the overwhelming need to release.

"Fuck," he groaned in that deep voice before his hips jerked, and I eagerly swallowed his warm cum, relishing the sharp taste. As he withdrew, leaving only the lingering feeling of his presence, I felt a heightened sense of desire coursing through me, fueled by the intimacy we had shared.

Looking up at him, I found nothing but satisfaction reflected in his expression. He released my hair, adjusting his clothes before running his hand down my head, petting me affectionately, then caressing my cheek.

"Good girl," he praised, sending shivers of delight down my spine before stepping away. "Now, you're going to eat."

Sorry, what?