The Dare

I snatched up the ball. Fury, intrigue, and horniness were creating a concoction inside of me that made my brain feel like mush and set my skin on fire.

Throw the shot, said an evil little voice in my head. You know you don’t really want to win. You want to do that dare. You want to get on your knees for him again.

My hands were shaking, time around me was slowing. The only thing in focus was Manson. Manson with his one white eye, his cocky grin, and my lip marks on his boots. Manson, waiting and watching. Manson, knowing he’d won.

My ball landed in the grass. Ashley swore up a storm behind me and immediately called to me, "Come on, Jess, just forget it!"

But I couldn’t. Manson curled his finger at me, motioning to me as the next group of players crowded onto the table.

“How’s it feel to be a loser?” he said softly, as I came to his side, arms folded, refusing to meet his eyes. His words dug into me, that smooth condescending tone sliding slimily over my skin. He’d gotten to me, he’d actually gotten to me…

And the worst part was...I’d enjoyed it.

Part II - The Dare

"So. You're actually doing this?"

The party was raging on around us. The next round of beer pong had begun, crowding us away from the table, so we stood on the sidelines, amongst the crowd. I kept hearing the audio of my humiliating video playing again and again, followed by laughter. I could hear murmurs of my name, the gossip already spreading.

Ashley stood behind me impatiently. I knew she was waiting for me to join her, regardless of the dare. After all, what kind of person would accept a dare like that and then actually carry through? Being Manson’s slave? Obeying his every word? It sounded ridiculous.

But I was going to do it.

Manson's question hung between us. He looked uncertain, even a little irritated, as if he was shocked that I was lingering. I shrugged, as if the answer should have been obvious. “Uh, yeah? You dared me. What am I going to do? Laugh it off?”

“That’s what I would have expected from you, yeah.” There was a note of bitterness in his tone, but he chuckled softly and it disappeared. “You really think you’re going to spend the night doing everything I tell you? Seriously?”

I gave him an irritated, wide-eyed expression. “Again...yeah? Unless you were just making it up to fuck with me. If you can’t handle me, I’ll gladly-”

“No, no,” he shook his head, and his smirk seemed to shift - it became darker. Hungrier. “I can handle you.” My stomach twisted weirdly at his words. Something about it excited me. It sounded like a threat. “I’m more concerned if you can handle it. I don’t think you realize what you’re in for.”

I stepped up to him, my face inches away from his, chests almost touching. I had to crane my neck back to look up at him. “I’m not afraid of you, Manson Reed. Whatever you’ve got…” My eyes dragged slowly down his body, and back up again. Sizing him up, all six-foot-whatever of him. “I can take it.”

His smile didn’t waver. Despite what I’d said, I felt a tiny, sudden jab of fear. It was the kind of fear I encountered before watching a scary movie, or walking into a haunted maze - it was a thrill, a rush, a hit of adrenaline straight to my veins.

“If you say so, Jess,” he said softly. “But you might be looking for mercy sooner than you think." He stepped back, and I finally allowed myself to breath. "Follow me then."

Manson's long legs carried him quickly over the lawn, back toward the house, I had to jog just to keep pace with him. Ashley caught up with me, and she’d brought me another drink. Shoving it into my hands, she hooked her arm through mine and hissed, "Let's bail! We'll lay low for 10 minutes and then-"

"I'm not bailing." I took a long sip of the fruity drink she'd handed me, thankful for the liquid courage. She stopped abruptly, and her looped arm yanked me to a halt.

"You're not bailing? What the hell do you mean, you're not bailing? Jess!" Her disbelief made me wince. How could I explain this, how could I make it make sense? "Jess, you're crazy, why would you-"

"Jessica!"

My heart stuttered. Manson had paused outside the back door. He snapped his fingers, and pointed to the ground at his feet. “Come. Now.”

I glanced back at Ashley, and saw that her mouth had tightened into a thin line. “Jess,” she said tensely. “Are you really…”

"Sorry, Ash, I just…” The normal, logical part of me was screaming that I wasn’t about to let this weirdo treat me like a dog. But the dark, needy part of me was insisting something very different: it was telling me that Manson’s condescending tone sounded hot, and his confidence was sexy, and that running to obey his summoning would feel so good.

“Just give me a minute, okay?” I squeezed Ashley’s arm apologetically, handed her my drink, then turned and walked towards Manson. I dragged my feet, just so I wouldn’t seem too eager, and I could see something twitch in his jaw with every slow step I took.

I was annoying him. Good.

I folded my arms, trying to match his irritation in my expression. “Yeah? What?”

He pointed down again, with a slow sigh. “My shoelace, Jess. Tie it.”

Sure enough, his boot lacing had come undone. I was already going to be on my knees at his feet again. For a moment, I could almost smell the leather. I could almost feel it under my lips. I swallowed hard, and scoffed, “Your shoelace, really? What are you, five?”

But I knelt. There, on my knees, in the light shining out from the glass backdoors, I tied his bootlace for him. I hurried to get back up, my tongue ready with more snarky comments, but his hand on my shoulder shoved me back down.

“Being a brat doesn’t change that you’re still obeying me, Jess,” he said softly, leaning down to bring his face close to mine. “Acting like it’s such a goddamn chore for you doesn’t change that you’re still doing it.” He smiled wickedly. “Pretending you don’t like this won’t make it go away. Keep it up, and you’ll only manage to earn yourself a good old-fashioned attitude adjustment.”

Words were lost to me for a moment. Finally, I managed, “Attitude...attitude adjustment? What the hell-”

“Keep it up and find out,” he straightened, taking his hand from my shoulder, and I scrambled to my feet. “And from now on, when I give you an order, you respond with “yes, Master,” understand?”

It took a great deal of self-control not to roll my eyes at him again. “You’re really pushing it…” I growled. Then, when I saw his eyebrow twitch, I added sarcastically, “Master.”

He shook his head. “Keep it up, Jess. I know you need some discipline in your life. You’ll earn it soon enough.” He entered the house, holding the door open long enough for me to slip in after him. Discipline...what the hell? I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but I was suddenly, urgently determined to find out.

Manson got swept into a conversation with some friends of his, and I stood awkwardly behind him, trying to pretend I wasn’t really with him. Ashley rejoined us, but this time, with Manson’s back turned, she seized my arm and dragged me into the kitchen.