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Getting her to bend to my will is going to take time, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it.
“I’ll make you stand,” I tell her as I make my way to the other side of the bed to unlock the chain from the bolt in the floor.
She moves slowly now, sitting up but making no effort to climb off the bed opposite of me.
It wouldn’t be possible because of the length of the chain, but at the same time, she’s smart not to get closer to me.
“Is it still nighttime?” she asks, her eyes darting to the curtain on the far side of the room.
I don’t answer her as I give her chain a little tug.
Physical violence really isn’t my thing. I lean more toward mental manipulation than anything else. It takes more skill to hurt someone by getting inside of their head than it does to beat them into submission.
She’s cautious as she climbs off the bed, keeping the full length of the chain between us.
She doesn’t argue or beg when I connect her chain into another bolt in the floor across the room.
“Sit,” I command, pointing to the chaise.
Her hesitation is shorter this time, and an illicit thrill runs through me. When she blinks up at me, it’s as if she’s waiting for her next command.
Honestly, I’m a little disappointed in her lack of self-preservation. She should be fighting or at least begging me to release her.
Her throat works on a swallow as I pull a collar from my pocket and inch closer to her.
Once again, she doesn’t fight when I strap it around her neck.
She doesn’t argue when I release her right hand from the chain and connect it to the buckle on the front of the collar.
She doesn’t try to escape when I release her fully to pull the combination lock from my pocket and secure all of it in place.
She continues to lock eyes with me when I take a step back, fear marked with a hint of defiance in her eyes.
Collars usually aren’t my thing, but the security of it is what I’m going for.
“You’ll eat,” I tell her, pointing down at the tray of meats and cheeses I brought in before she woke up.
She takes a moment to glance down at the food before drawing her eyes back up to mine.
“It’ll help get the drugs out of your system faster,” I explain, unsure of why I’m offering her any sort of explanation. “Make sure you drink both bottles of water.”
She doesn’t look down at the offerings again, but she also doesn’t argue.
Her defiance rests solely in her eyes.
“Is there a problem with the food?”
Her jaw clenches but she doesn’t respond, and I can’t decide if she’s honestly as big of a bitch as she’s portraying herself to be or if this is part of her fakeness. Is her bravery false or is she just so fucking hoity-toity that she thinks petulance is what’s gonna save her from this situation.
“You’ll speak when I talk to you,” I say, a warning clear in my voice.
She licks her lips as she blindly reaches for the bottle of water.
My patience is wearing very thin as she takes a sip from the bottle, but at the same time, I’m a little distracted at the sight of her lips wrapped around the plastic.
“Are you asking for a ransom?”
I tilt my head to the side as a slow smile creeps across my face. “There’s no amount of money in this world that would be better than the plans I have for you.”
