Page 32 of Pierced

Poor, poor Pierce. He has no idea what he’s getting into.

Ten minutes from now he’ll be in his car driving away as fast as his McLaren can take him.

Then I’ll have gotten my revenge, have had a good laugh, and be let off the hook for this stupid romantic weekend idea he pulled out of nowhere this morning. I might even grab a bottle of wine and trot down to Katherine’s house so we can giggle over it.

I pull the basement door open slowly. It squeaks. Loudly. Like a door in a creepy movie.

And then I turn to him. “Are you ready?” I purr.

He swallows. Looks down the dark steps. Then at me. “It’s down there, huh? In the basement?”

“That’s where most dungeons live.”

He hesitates.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Losing interest in my secret fetish side?”

“You know… we could just… do this another way?”

“Another way?”

“Yeah, you know.” He waggles his eyebrows at me, trying to pretend he’s cool. Like he’s in control here. Like this is just some fantastic joke. “My way.”

If I wasn’t in character, and if I didn’t take this character seriously, I’d laugh. “I’m going to punish you for that.”

“For what?”

“Every moment of my time that you waste comes with consequences.” He squints his eyes at me. “Every time you make me say something twice, I will punish you twice as hard.”

“Fuck it,” he huffs. “Fine. I’m going. See?” He starts down the stairs. Quick, at first. Then slower. “Are there lights? Or is me breaking my neck just part of being dominated?”

“I’m going to gag you first,” I say. “To make you stop asking questions.” Which makes him hesitate, but he recovers and continues until he’s at the bottom looking up at me.

I flash him one last smile and then I close the door and the darkness is complete.

“For fuck’s sake,” he says. “Could you be any more dramatic?”

Oh, yes. Yes, I can. Just give me a moment.

My heels click on the stairs. One. At. A. Time as I descend. When I get to the bottom I lean into him, so close I press my lips to the outer shell of his ear, and say, “Come with me.”

“Lights? This isn’t a haunted house… is it?”

I take his hand in mine and walk forward, weaving through the various contraptions that have been placed throughout the room, and ignore him.

“In due time, my little pet,” I say.

He mutters curse words under his breath and I’m glad it’s dark. Because I can’t stop the smile.

“How can you even see where you’re going?” he asks.

I don’t answer this time. I just drop his hand and walk away.

The only sound in the room are my heels on the bare concrete and his long, tired sigh.

“Stay where you are,” I say. “Something might jump out and bite you.”

“That’s not funny.”