by Anita Dobs
“That's not what I mean Elle, there are things about me you don't know.”
“Like what? You're not going to tell me you're gay are you?”
“No Miss. James, I'm not gay on weekdays at all. It's not that, and I stopped dressing as a woman many years ago, just so you know.”
“Then what could it possibly be? Are you sure this isn't your way of trying to get rid of me?”
“No, it's not that, although it's true I have been that way with others before.”
“Then what is all of this about, what are you trying to tell me?”
“It may be sometime until I can next see you.”
“How long?”
“Well, I can't really say, but you will have to accept it, it's for your own good. Trust me on that.”
“While I'm waiting will I still be able to use the Adamantium credit card?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then I can endure it! I accept to suffer for you Mr. Grey.”
“I suppose it's only fitting as a BDSM submissive.”
Saying that, Grey then kissed me on the forehead and told me the limo would take me back to my campus, and he left the dining room with some important things to attend to. I didn't know when I'd see him again, or even if I'd ever see him again. Morris led me to the car on the gravel drive and before I got in, I turned to him and asked,
“Morris, how many BDSM submissive's has Grey had before me?”
Morris thought for a few moments, and then started counting on his fingers, and by the time he began using his second hand, I couldn't take it anymore and told him to stop,
“You don't really have to tell me! Couldn't you just have said something like “Oh, a few, but he was never like this with the others”, or “It is beyond my ken to be able to give you that information Miss. James.”
“But you asked me!” argued Morris, confused.
“Just because a woman asks you something, it doesn't mean she wants the truth if the truth might be something she doesn't like!”
Morris scratched his head looking bewildered,
“I'm so glad I'm gay.” He finally said, helping me into the car.
Morris waved me off as the limo pulled away, and I looked out through the back window as Grey Mansion faded into the distance, with the wind in the trees forcing the branches to submit to its dominance. The car took an unusual route back to my campus, and I knocked on the partition between me and the driver so he'd roll it down, so that I could speak to him. The driver was wearing his black cap and suit as before, but I sensed something different about him.
“Driver, where are we going, this doesn't look like the right route at all.”
He answered, but his voice was low, and he didn't turn back to look at me,
“Don't worry about it.” He said, “Just sit back in the car and enjoy the ride.”
“Look... ” I said, feeling a little annoyed as I might miss my ten o'clock class, “can you just drive along the normal route?”
“Shut-up Miss. James.”
“What did you say to me!?”
It was then that he turned to face me, and I got the shock of my life. Before me was a deeply scarred face, with a cynical grin.
“Who are you?” I asked, shocked.
“They call me Mr. Irony. And you are now my prisoner Elle James.”
“I don't want to be your prisoner, I don't have a contract with you!”
“Oh, like I really care.” He said, sarcasm oozing from his voice.
“What are you going to do with me? Why are you kidnapping me?”
“Because you are just so useful to me. Mr. Grey will now come to rescue you, because you're really special to him. And then I will trap him and then destroy him Miss. James.”
“But Mr. Grey is just a billionaire Candy magnate, he can't rescue me.”
“Oh you're really intelligent aren't you? You know so much about Mr. Grey don't you.”
I became so scared and began to shout and scream,
“Let me out, let me out!”
I tried the doors and they were all locked, I kicked at the windows but the glass would not break, but unfortunately one of my high-heels did, and I cursed, knowing I'd never find a pair like that again as they were last season's colors.
“I'm so not going to have sex with you later.” He said, in a way that quite obviously meant he was.
The thought of ironic sex filled me with horror, what would it entail? Would it actually mean he'd have sex with me and say things like “Oh, you're so tight.”, or “I'm really hot for you right now.” as he was penetrating me. Or, bearing in mind it would be ironic sex, did it mean that he'd not actually have sex with me, but cause me pain and suffering, somewhat like sadomasochistic sex?
“I'm trapped, I'm trapped!” I screamed again, hoping a passer-by on the street would hear me.
“Oh, the irony of it all.” He said gleefully, “A BDSM submissive trapped and unable to escape!”
And then he laughed an insane laugh, much worse than anything The Count had ever come up with. I went to try and attack him with my tiara, and then thought better of it - not wanting it damaged - and I was too late anyway, as the window rolled up and he cackled,
“Say goodnight Miss. James.”
Gas began to fill the back of the car and I felt woozy and passed out, gripping the tiara for dear life.
...
I awoke in a dungeon without doors. Feeling around in the dark, I could find no entrance or exit. Presently, I heard Mr. Irony's voice come over a loudspeaker,
“You're in a dungeon without locks, oh the irony. Let's see if you can figure out how to escape a dungeon that's not a dungeon!”
I knew it was pointless to shout or scream, it would only encourage him.
“And now Miss. James, your torture will begin.” He said, in an evil tone of voice.
I felt petrified, I wondered if Mr. Grey would ever find me; I didn't know what kind of torture I would have to bear, but it was much worse than I could ever have dreamed of in my worst nightmares. Over the loudspeaker, Alanis Morissette's song 'Isn't it Ironic' began playing deafeningly more so than usual, and repeated itself again and again, if there was a hell, I was then in it! This is just so Guantanamo Bay, I thought. I wanted to pull the hairs out of my head, and shouted at the top of my voice uncontrollably,
“No, please God no! Anything but this! Noooooooooooooo!... ”
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