Chapter Text
Violet sighed heavily, dropping her keys in the small bowl at the front of the house and ripping off her coat. It was a freezing cold night; the winter evenings are now coming into full term, and she made a mental note to put on a scarf and hat tomorrow. Although she drove tonight, the short walk to her car easily froze her face. The warmth of the house ate her up quickly, as she shredded her heels and went straight to the kitchen. She was dying of thirst due to the white wine drying out her mouth. The icy water ran from the fridge, filling up her glass, and she gulped it down, biting through the sensitivity on her teeth, which sent a shiver through her body.
She had just come back from dinner with the girls. Eating at one of New York's top restaurants, the cheapest thing on the menu was the bread and olives, which cost $20. She was dressed in a beautiful cream dress paired with clear heels, showing off her beautifully manicured French toes that matched her fingernails and her silky smooth and glowy skin, along with her long trench coat and Michael Kors bag. Her long blonde hair was blown out to perfection, her bangs rolled forward, framing her face, and her lips were glossy with the Dior lip gloss she kept in her purse. She was a typical rich girl, throwing money wherever she wanted. Thanks to her father, she’d probably never have to work again. Her father gave her whatever money she wanted to spend on whatever she liked. You could say she was a spoiled little brat, but her friends were just the same.
She took a deep breath, placing the glass down on the counter, and silence filled the kitchen. Only then did she hear the voice of her father, coming from the living room. It was more hushed than normal, as if he were on the phone with someone. It is most likely a business call. Her father was a busy man. Being a congressman for the New York district, John Williams was constantly on calls, meetings, and business trips; it often felt like Violet rarely got to see him. They rarely got to spend time together with him being at work all day. But he was all she had. Her brother had moved to Canada with his wife, leaving the two of them back home. You’d think that at the age she was and the money she had, she'd move out. But she was the only person he had left, and being the daughter of a high government official came with the possibility of getting hurt by people who didn't agree with John. There were some pretty weird people out there. She was unfortunate to lose her mother at the tender age of 10. A gun shot. She was driving home late one night, and a couple of thugs pulled her over, attempting to steal her purse and any other goods in the car. It ended in blood and tears. The funeral was the hardest thing for Violet. There were so many people there that she didn’t know, and all she wanted was her mom back.
Her father vowed to keep his children safe and ensure that something like this never happened again. The other congressmen were kind enough to attend the funeral, offering their support and kindness, which John greatly appreciated. But as Violet grew up, she found her father becoming more distant from work, constantly on a call or meeting, sinking himself in deeper every day to distract himself from the thought of losing his wife, his best friend.
As Violet padded over to the living room, she could hear more of his hushed voice and pacing, his shoes scuffing on the carpet as if he wasn’t picking up his feet enough. He must be stressed.
"Yeah, I know, I know,” he whispered harshly, and Violet peaked around the corner. Normally, he wasn’t this cold on the phone to his fellow congressman’s. Perhaps it was a personal call.
"No, I will get it, I promise,” he grumbled, pacing back and forth.
"Look, just give me some more time; I can get it to you by Friday,” he assured, and Violet furrowed her brows.
"No, please, look, let me see what I can do,” he pleaded almost.
"Thanks,” he sighed, and aggressively hung up the phone, throwing it to the sofa and sighing heavily, rubbing his face. Violet took a second to step out, not wanting it to look like she was overhearing.
“Hey daddy,” she said softly, and he turned, smiling as he met eyes with his daughter. She was the spitting image of her mother, with long blonde hair, bangs that framed her face, sparkling blue eyes with a hint of green, and perfect lips and cheek bones. Anytime John looked at her, she reminded him of his.
“Hi sweetheart, I didn’t hear you come in,” he sighed with a forced smile.
“Everything okay?” She asked, and he nodded. His shirt was ruffled, and the tie was hanging loosely around his neck. The collar was turned up, and the buttons were opened. The sweat was dripping down his face, like he was nervous.
“Yeah, just a work call; you know how things get,” he said simply, and Violet wasn’t too sure to believe him or not. But she rarely got involved in his work. The government was a complicated subject, one she didn’t quite understand despite her father telling her about it so many times. The number of people in that one building was hard to keep track of by itself, as was the amount of legislation and bills being passed every day.
“Oh well, I hope it all is okay,” she said sweetly, crashing down on the sofa, and her dad sighed, placing his hands on his hips and nodding.
“Me too… How was your dinner?” he asked.
“It was lovely; the girls and I had a good catch-up. I think I'm going to go run a bath and relax now," she said, pushing herself off the sofa to make her way upstairs.
"Alright, sweetheart," he said, but he wasn't with it. He looked to the floor nervously, sweat adorning his face.
"Are you sure you're okay, dad?" She asked, and he nodded.
"Yeah, its nothing to worry about," he shrugged and quickly passed her, making his way to the kitchen. Violet furrowed her brows and wanted to chase after him, but it was clear he didn't want to talk right now.
Heading up the large stariscase, which curled around and led to a long hallway with many rooms—five bedrooms and a bathroom, to be exact—Violet made her way into her bedroom and immediately into the en-suit. Every bedroom had its own bathroom plus an extra one. The house was magnificent, with a huge living room and kitchen, a garden that reached around ten acres of land, a swimming pool and hot tub, an office, and a library. Of course, the house was given to them by the government, and they didn't have to pay a penny. There was no way she was leaving this all behind.
Violet ran the bath, filling it with steaming hot water, and dunked herself in, relaxing instantly. The sweet aromas from the bath salts sent her into a daze as the hot water relaxed her muscles. She dipped her head back, the hot water encasing her in a blanket of warmth. Her mind had completely forgotten about her dad and the mystery call he was on.
padding back into the bedroom dressed in her white fluffy robe, she dried her hair and applied some skincare to her face before jumping into the king-sized bed and pulling out her laptop. A little shopping was in order after an exhausting day of errands and chatting with her girlfriends. As if she needed anything more. Her walk-in wardrobe was practically full; her draws of endless makeup were overflowing, and she was losing space to put her shoes up. But she just couldn't help herself. She was a girl who liked to treat herself.
Anyone else would call her a selfish brat who enjoyed showing off how rich she was. She wasn't even earning the money; it all came from her father. But in her eyes, she didn't see that. You could say she was a bit of a clueless girl, with no awareness around her, like a fairy in a make-believe world. With her pretty looks and sweet voice, she could get anything she wanted. She enjoyed spending money, hanging with her girls, and doing anything but work. But that was soon going to change.
The streets of Manhattan were busy this morning, and Violet strutted down the street, her phone glued to her ear and a bag hanging from her elbow. She was the only one wearing a pair of sunglasses in the winter—the ones that cost her over $300. She was like a needle in a haystack, standing out from the crowd of grumbling New Yorkers, dressed in puffer jackets and long trench coats, all black and grey, and her dressed in white.
"Yes, I'll meet you at the manor at seven," she said into the phone, chatting with her friend Michelle.
"I have so much to tell you tonight," Michelle bragged on the other end, and Violet grinned, practically squealing at the thought of them gossping.
"I can't wait, ahh." She was suddenly cut off from her conversation when something tall and heavy bumped straight into her, knocking her off her balance, and she crashed into the wall next to her. It was clearly a man, and she glared up with a scoff. The man was quick to barge past, keeping his head down. The only thing she had on him was his long black coat, a pair of dress trousers, and dress shoes, but she didn't catch his face. He didn't even bother to say sorry. But in this city, it was a common thing, and she didn't think much of it.
The sound of Michelle calling her name could be heard through the phone, and Violet sighed, placing it back in her ear and heading down the street. "Sorry, someone bumped into me."
That evening, Violet got herself ready for drinks. They were going to a cute cocktail bar where the cocktails alone were $30. She was in need of good gossip with Michelle, another rich and pretty girl with a high-earning father. She dressed in a black dress, reaching just above her knees, with black high-heeled boots. Her pants were pushed up, showing off her slim figure, and she curled her hair, the blonde strands cascading down her back. A light layer of makeup and a spritz of Chanel perfume, and she was ready to hit the town. Pairing her dress with her long black fur coat, she carefully made her way downstairs and looked for her father.
He was in the living room, typing furiously on his keyboard, and a bottle of Scotch was beside him. His shirt was undone once again, and the tie and jacket were flung on the back of the plush chair he was sitting in.
"I'm going out now, dad; I'll be back around ten," she shrugged, and he looked up from his screen.
"Alright, sweetheart, be careful," he warned, and she smiled.
"I will," she said in a sing-song voice. He was so protective of her that if anything happened to her, it would kill him.
The night was freezing. The trees were already starting to get a frost on them, and the path was getting icy. She took her time walking to the bar, careful not to slip over. She wished she had driven, or at least asked her dad to drop her off, but she knew if she drove, she could only have one, or not even that. The drinks here in New York were strong, and it didn't take her long to get drunk. a couple down that hatch, and she would feel the buzz.
The neighbourhood to get to the manor was quiet, and there was barely anyone around. It was unusual to see a New York street so quiet, but that's exactly where they were. The peace and quiet meant there weren't many neighbours, and even the ones that were around kept to themselves. a classic rich people's street, you could say.
As she turned the corner, she noticed a car up ahead, parked on the path. Two tall men stood by it, dressed in long black coats. Her heels clicked on the concrete floor, grabbing the men's attention, and one of them turned, noticing her presence. Violet tried to keep her head down, but the man had already jumped in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. She was hoping she wouldn't get stopped by them, but that hope had gone out the window.
"Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me. We're trying to get to Brooklyn, but I think we took the wrong turn, and we're a bit lost. I was wondering if you could help us." he smiled. It was hard to make out his features, but from what she could see, he had dark hair that was slightly on the longish side, brushed back behind his ears. a muzzle of a beard around his jaw and soft, perky lips. He had a dazzling smile with perfectly straight white teeth. There was a rich scent of colonge that was overpowering, and his voice was smooth and sexy.
"Oh, um... sure," she shrugged. She didn't want to be rude and walk away without at least trying to help them, and he guided her over to the car, where on top of the hood was a large map.
"We're from out of town, you see?" he chuckled softly. Violet hugged her bag closely to her, a sudden fear that perhaps these guys were looking for a chance to mug her. She stood by the car, staring down at the map, but, in total honesty, she had no idea what she was looking at.
"Um, well," she glanced at the map, but it wasn't making any sense to her.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not that good with directions. If you have maps on your phone, though, you can get to Broolyn that way," she pointed out, and the man chuckled. It was a pretty obvious answer, which anyone could come up with.
"You see, we are trying to get to Brooklyn, Bushwick; we have an important meeting there that we can't be late for," the man explained.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not sure; you're asking the wrong person here." She shrugged, hoping she could step away and get away from these two strangers.
"Alright, well, thank you for your help, Violet," he said, and she froze, looking up with wide eyes and parted lips. Surely he didn't just say her name. How could he know? She didn't even introduce herself.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" She nervously laughed.
"I said thank you, Violet." He turned to her, staring down at her with a soft smile on his lips. Violet hugged her bag closer, pressing her legs firmly together.
"How do you know my name?" She asked nervously, her voice cracking a little. She was starting to think she shouldn't have stopped and helped them. She was wishing she had just kept on walking and ignored them. She was hoping this was some crazy dream and she'd wake up with none of it being real.
"Everyone knows your name; your father is Congressman John William's, isn't he?" The man turned to face her, leaning on the car as he stared down. Violet was in shock, and she swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. It wasn't uncommon for people to know who she was because of her father, but the coincidence of having bumped into these two random strangers and him instantly knowing who she was was a little too scary for her. She knew this was dangerous and had to escape this encounter.
"I was hoping you'd be able to help me tonight," he tutted, his voice slightly lower. Violet took another deep breath and mustered all the courage she could.
"Unfortunatly, I can't help you with your directions; you'll have to find someone else. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be." She turned on her heel to walk away, but the other tall man stood in front of her, blocking her escape. He had shorter hair than the first man, slightly on the blonder side, and a heavier beard. Violet swallowed, her heart thumping inside her chest, her stomach turning into a tight ball of nerves, and she stepped back out of intimidation.
She turned her head over her shoulder, staring up at the man behind her, fear in her eyes as he took a step closer, closing her in, his hand resting on the top of the car. A glint from the street lamp showed off a bright, shiny ring on his thumb. She shuddered, and then everything happened so quickly.
A slam into the car door, a yelp from her lungs, her bag thrown to the floor. the rattle of cuffs and clicks locking them. a muffled yelp from the piece of fabric tied tightly around her mouth and the whimper of being thrown in the trunk. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, and her ankles were cuffed as well. The man stood tall, his head slightly tilted up as he herested his hand on the edge of the boot door.
"If I were you, I'd get comfortable; it's going to be a long ride," he said with order in his tone, his eyes lazily on her. Violet clamped her teeth down on the tight frabic cutting into her mouth, and the clack of the cuffs could be heard as she fought against them even though there was no escape. The second man appeared next to him, rolling up what looked like a black hood and quickly yanking it over her head, pulling her into darkness. The last thing she heard was the slam of the boot door and the sound of her own cries.
Chapter Text
Violet squirmed in the boot, her ankles and wrists rubbing against the steel cuffs, which were beginning to cut into her skin. The dark hood made her sweaty and hot, and the piece of frabic tied tightly around her mouth was soaked through with saliva and cut into the sides of her lips. Her whimpers had stopped as she calmed down, the tears staining her face and most probably ruining her makeup, making her look like a dirty old whore.
The car ride was long, and she was beginning to get cramps in all places on her body from the uncomfortable position. How could she get comfortable with her hands tied behind her back and being barely able to move her legs?
A million thoughts were going through her head as the car drove. She prayed that her friend would get worried enough to call her father and not just think she had stood her up. It wasn't like Violet to do that to her friends, and she hoped that within the next couple of hours, police officers would be on her case to find her. Her bag was nowhere in the boot with her, and even if it was, she'd have no chance of getting her phone out, not with the cuffs and hood on her head. But she wasn't an ordinary daughter. Her father was a congressman, a government official, and there was no way he would sit back while his daughter was being kidnapped and possibly used for money.
But what did these guys want? Was it just a quick way to make money? Hold her hostage until Daddy pays up, or worse, were they some sick fucks looking for a quick fuck? The thoughts made her want to start crying again, but she held the tears back, taking a deep breath and swallowing hard. The fabric was sticking to her tongue, and she coughed as her throat was dry and sore.
But it wasn't long until she felt the car slow down and her heart began to beat faster, slamming on the inside of her chest as if it were trying to leap out. She pulled her body closer to her, listening for whatever sounds and voices she could make out. A thump came, which sounded very muhc like a car door closing, and the sound of shoes scuffing grew louder as it got closer.
She held her breath, scared that it would sound louder than it would, and suddenly the boot door opened. A blast of cold air hit her, and she shivered, goosebumps riding up her arms and legs, and she softly whimpered. There was a subtle click, and suddenly a hand touched her arm roughly before a sharp prick came, and she groaned, biting the gag hard. an injection of something that didn't sound good to her.
The boot door shut with a loud slam, and the footsteps grew quieter as they ventured off. The car started in seconds, and it was off again, but Violet's head had already begun to spin, and her eyes were struggling to stay open. It only took a few seconds for her body to reach exhaustion, and she fell into a deep slumber.
Violet groaned as she woke. Her hand was banging as if someone were using it like a drum, and her body was sore, like she had been thrown to the ground like a sack of potatoes. She was so exhausted that she was finding it difficult to open her eyes, and her body was weaker than anything. A soft moan escaped her lips as she shuffled on the very uncomfy mattress underneath her, and a single eye peaked open. The room was dim, with nothing but a grey wall to look at. Her second eye followed, and the sight became clearer. grey walls with a white skirting board.
Looking up, she noticed a small desk and chair, wooden, with nothing on top. There were a few draws down the side of it. Her eyes flickered across the room, and she saw a window high above the walls with a small ledge. It looked frozen on the outside, so there wasn't much of a view.
Finally, she gathered the strength and courage to lift her head. An intense pain ran through her neck, most probably from a bad night's sleep. Pushing herself up and holding herself up with all her body strength, her eyes wandered the room. This was not her bedroom. boring grey walls, lifeless furniture, and a tiny window that you couldn't even see out of—something wasn't right.
To the left was a door that had a crack, and she saw the edge of a toilet. She narrowed her eyes, groaning as her head pounded with any subtle movements, and raised a hand to rub her eyes. She couldn't remember anything. Looking down, she noticed she was lying on nothing but a mattress with a duvet draped across her. no bed, and just a single pillow that was as flat as anything.
Suddenly, her heart started racing again, and a dreaded feeling came over her. She gasped for air, her breathing becoming ragged and fast, and she scurried up from the floor as her eyes met another door—a way out?
but as she raced for it, she was yanked back at the sound of a chain rattling and something pulled against her neck. She coughed and reached for her throat, feeling a thick leather collar wrapped around it, the buckle large, and the feeling of a cold padlock keeping it locked, attached to a chain on the ground. She yanked on it, her fingers desperately trying to find a loose end or tug on the chain to break it, but it was strong.
That was when she noticed she was in different clothes. Her expensive black dress and boots had been swapped for a pair of grey jogging bottoms with some socks and a white t-shirt. definitely not her style or choice of clothing. Her once-styled hair of blow-out curls had turned into a knotted mess, and her makeup was pretty much gone, leaving a bare and pale face. All her jewellery was missing, and she felt naked with none of it on. Her thoughts from the boot of the car were likely to be true—some sick fucks wanting a ransom out of her and selling all her clothes and jewellery for a couple of hundred bucks.
She swallowed hard, trying not to hyperventilate as the pain and anxiety came over her, pushing down and making her want to crawl up into a small ball and cry. No, she couldn’t let any weakness come; otherwise, how was she going to escape? Her eyes flickered to the window, and she jumped up, padding over. The chain reached her, giving her just enough room to push herself up on her tippy toes and look out the window, but the blasted fog and frost kept her hidden away.
Her instinct told her to try the door, and she managed to reach it just enough, although the chain was pulling tightly on the collar, almost choking her again. She rattled the handle, but, of course, it was locked. She was stupid enough to even think there was a possibility that they would leave the door open for her.
"Hello!" she screamed, banging on the door, but there was nothing. No answer, no voices. She shuddered, pacing backwards as tears filled her eyes, and she slumped down on the thin mattress, hugging her legs tightly. Never had Violet felt like this before. Her confident, sassy attitude had been pushed away by the vulnerable and scared girl chained up in a strange room. She was so confident around people, flicking her hair with attitude and strutting her fashionable self around New York City like she was better than anyone else, dripping in gold and expensive taste, her signature scent a classic Chanel perfume, and now she was a plain, scared little girl.
Time seemed to tick by as Violet hugged herself tightly on the floor, listening for any movements. She felt exhaustion coming over her again but didn’t want to risk falling asleep and having the sick fuckers come and rape her or abuse her. No, she needed to be awake and aware.
And when she heard the shuffle of shoes getting louder and closer to the door and the harsh click of a lock, she swallowed quickly and pulled herself up from her knees, holding her head high as she watched anxiously as the door opened abruptly. The man from last night, tall and intimidating, striped inside, had a certain dominant air about him as he stared down at her. Violet could finally get a good look at him, as the darkness had clouded some of his features. His hair was brushed behind his ears except for a few strands falling in front of his face, a dark brown that went well with his attire. In a dark black suit, double-breasted with tight-fitting pants and polished dress shoes, his scent was rich and dark, and Violet could smell it the second he walked through the door. His jaw was covered in a muzzle of hair, but he was not hiding away his sharp jawline. Plump lips and a perfectly shaped nose matched the contours of his face. But what struck her the most was his dazzling blue eyes, like the ocean.
She shuffled back slightly, resting herself on her palms as he stepped all the way inside, shutting the door behind him and leaving it just for the two of them. Violet’s was deciding which route to take. She could either sit and shake with fear and be silent, wondering what the strange but very handsome man wanted from her, or she could pluck up the courage to fight and demand her way out of this hell. If her father were here, he’d tell her to fight for what she wanted, and so she decided to take that route.
“Where am I?” She spoke first, and the man smirked, stepping further in. Violet couldn’t help but push herself back, an automatic response to his movement, and watched him intently as he pushed himself against the desk, folding his legs over one another and folding his arms in front of him. She recognised the ring on his thumb from last night but noticed another on his other hand, fitting well on his pinky finger.
"You are at my compound, in a room, down on the basement level of this house." He was being very specific, but it answered her question.
“Why am I here?” She tried to sound angry and confident, but the little crack in her voice gave away her anxiety.
“Because your father owes me a lot of money.”.
Violet was struck with silence, and her eyes went wider as she blinked in surprise. Her father? Surely not. Surely her reason for being chained up in this room wasn’t because of him.
“Wh-what do you mean?” She asked, this time her voice shaking, and the man chuckled.
“I’m not surprised he hasn’t told you anything; if I were him, I wouldn’t want my daughter knowing her father is a gambler who throws his money at strippers all night long.” Violet didn’t want to believe the things she was hearing, and she used her nail to stab her hand, hoping she’d wake up suddenly and this would all be a bad dream.
“You see your father; he might be a congressman by day, but by night, he is the biggest gambler in this city, and not a very good one. He’s been gambling, probably since you were born. Not to mention the money he spends on strippers. But then he got into a bit of trouble. He needed money, and he didn’t have any, so he came to me. I very kindly gave him a loan. Now, when I give someone a loan, I expect them to pay me back, and I’m a very generous man at times, but your father has screwed me over for the last six months. He owes me a lot of money,” he explained.
“And I’m not about to let someone like your father screw me over and get away with it. If people knew that James Barnes, the leader of the ruthless gang in New York, let a man get away with something like that, then they wouldn’t take me seriously,” he shrugged, and Violet swallowed.
“Which is why you’re here?” he pointed, smiling slightly.
“My father wouldn’t do that,” she tried to defend him, but only received a hard laugh from James.
“You obviously don’t know your father very well then. I gave him plenty of time to get my money back, and he still hasn’t. So until I get all my money from him, every last cent, you're going to remain here.”.
“My father is a congressman; he’ll have the police on you in seconds,” she threatened, but James smirked, shaking his head and scoffing. Did this girl really think she could scare him?
“You don’t know me; the cops work for me; they practically don’t give a shit what I do as long as I pay them. I could shoot someone in front of them, and they wouldn’t bat an eyelid. I run this city,” he pushed himself off the desk, revealing how tall he really was.
“People are going to be looking for me; someone will track me down sooner or later,” she tried again, but James wasn’t even listening. Nothing she had to say would make him scared or worried that the cops would be on his case.
“Not if your father doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you. He’s going to play by my rules, and once he pays me my money back, you’ll be free to go home." Violet took a shaky breath. This was truly real. Her mind couldn’t quite believe it, and she shuffled on the mattress, the chain clinking, which caught her attention.
“What’s this for?” She asked nervously, reaching up to hold the cold chain that burned into her hand, and James smirked.
"Well, I wasn’t sure if you were going to be a good girl or not. I can’t have you trying to escape. And as long as you behave yourself, nothing bad will happen. But if you don't, then there will be consequences.” He smiled, as if he enjoyed the thought of that.
“Fuck you,” she spat, and James tutted.
“Now that’s not very nice,” he teased, and Violet glared up at him.
“You can’t keep me here forever; someone will come looking for me, and when they find me, my father will make sure you go to jail for the rest." James turned, walking straight to the door, ignoring the rant coming from Violet, whose voice got louder as he disappeared outside the rooms, slamming the door behind him, as if he didn’t give a shit what she had to say and he didn’t. No threats were going to make him set her free until he had all of his money. Violet huffed, trying to stop the tears from falling from her eyes, and sniffled. It looks like she was going to be here for a while.
Notes:
Hey I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments
Chapter Text
James paced around in his office, his phone glued to his ear and his other hand buried deep in his pocket. His crisp, black, polished shoes scuffed the carpet slightly as he paced, listening to the never-ending ring on the other end. His patient's skin was slowly getting thinner the longer it went on. Finally, a voice replied to him, shaky and nervous, and he instantly smirked.
John Williams had a right to be nervous. His daughter has just been kidnapped, and he is in a whole lot of trouble. It didn't take much for James to put fear in someone, and John certainly was fearing for not only his life but also Violet's. He knew this would happen sooner or later; James had warned him so many times, and yet he carried on thinking he was the big dog; he was going to come out on top because he works for the government and he can get whatever he wants. He clearly didn't know the full extent of James Barnes's power.
"John, finally decided to pick up," James slightly grumbled as he took a seat on the plush sofa to the side of the office. His office was huge, with dim lighting creating a dark atmosphere and tension in the air. His rich colony flooded the room, giving off power and seduction. The fine pieces of furniture blended in with the colours of dark magohany and burgandy, with the gold accents adding a touch of class. James folded his long leg over the other, his hand resting on his knee, the glint of his ring from the sutble lights.
He was a man of money, power, and dominance. a man who could get anything he wanted with but a look of his eyes. Growing up in the family business, he always knew he wanted to be on top, in control, and have power over something as big as a city. Now he had it. passed down from his father, he earned the right to call himself the most dangerous man in New York. No one dared to cross him, not even the police. Like he said, they work for him. All they care about is a couple of extra bucks here and there, and he'd happily throw them a wad of cash to cover up their illegal doings. His power in this city was no match for anything else.
people feared by just by name. You wouldn't want to get into business with a man like James unless you knew what you were doing, and most people didn't. He had to set an example for himself. If people didn't take him seriously, they would walk all over him like a piece of gum stuck to the floor, constantly being trudded on without a care. No, he wasn't going to let that happen, not on his watch. He could pretty much get away with anything—murder, assault, smuggling, you name it. There was nothing James Barnes couldn't do.
Kidnapping daughters from fathers who don't pay him back on time was another one. It was a fair deal. Until he was paid back in full, he needed some leverage and something to give some motivation to this waste of space people call a congressman, and what better than for it to be his daughter? Something he would take seriously. It wasn't the first time he had done it.
Leila was her name. She was a sweet old thing, young, beautiful, shy, and a Christian by heart. She never did a bad thing in her entire life. She was unfortunate to have a drunk father with an addiction to pills. With only a small-paying job at a gas station, he barely earned enough for them to stay afloat, so he turned his troubles to James, hoping for a small loan to get them by. Of course, he wasted the entire amount on booze and drugs, and yet his sweet, loving daughter would go home every night and tuck him into bed while he was passed out, normally in a pile of his own vomit, and would say a little prayer for Daddy. In James's eyes, he was doing her a favour.
Nonetheless, a deal had been made and was broken, and James wasn't going to let him get away with it. If he truly cared about his daughter, he'd shape himself up and stop wasting his life on feeling high every night. It took nine months for the guy to pay him back in full, and he released her back into society, though, in his opinion, she would have been better off staying with him than going back to that drunk. But he kept his promise.
He could hear the husky breath of John on the other end, pacing back and forth and running a shaky hand through his greasy hair as big bags were looming under his eyes. It didn't take long for word to travel to him that his daughter had been kidnapped, and he wasn't a complete idiot; he knew it was from the hands of James Barnes; who else would it be?
"Is she okay?" he asked, and James chuckled. Of course, they always make demands.
"She's fine, and she will continue to be fine as long as you get me my money," James said simply. It couldn't be more simple than that. Get him the money, and his daughter will be free to go.
"Look, I don't have it all right now," John said in a fluster, and James rolled his eyes. Of course he didn't; this man was useless. How he ever got into government james would never be known.
"I'm happy to take monthly payments... but you know, the longer it takes to pay me back, the more I'll keep adding on," he threatened, and John sighed.
"Please, just give me so much time and i-ll-.".
"I've already given you plenty of time, John. What do you think I am? I told you from the start that you had six months to pay me back; otherwise, I'll be taking something as collateral," James argued, his frustration growing with every second of having to talk to this stupid fucker.
"Yes, I know, but I haven't been able to get it; money is tight at the moment with the government.".
"I really don't give a fuck about you, the government, or how tight your money is, John. You entered into an agreement with me, signed it, and now you're going to pay the consequences.".
John went silent, and James was pleased. It sounded like he was actually starting to listen to James now and take this seriously.
"You know who I am, right? I could have the FBI on you in minutes if I wanted to," Kohn tried to threaten, and James replied with a laugh, throwing his head back and shaking his head.
"You think the FBI is going to stop me? I'm sure you wouldn't want the rest of your team to know what a sleeze you are. I'm sure they wouldn't want to know that their fellow congressman was blowing their money away on strippers and losing at poker. Let's not play this game, John; don't be a fucking moron. and I'm sure you wouldn't want your daughter to know what kind of person you are.".
John went silent, and he took a shaky breath. james smirked. James had him wrapped around his finger, and he was enjoying it.
"Just please don't hurt her," she whimpered.
"As long as she behaves herself, I have to say you have a very fiesty daughter, not what I was expecting, and she's very beautiful." John groaned on the other end, wanting to come up there and punch him square in the face. James could tell he was getting riled up, and he chuckled evilly.
"I want the first payment at the end of this month. I'll send my guys round if you want to do cash; otherwise, you know what to do," and with that, he hung up the phone, dropping it on his leg.
This was going to be interesting. He imagined his daughter to be very shy, sweet, and kind, and from the small amount of time he had spent with her, he had come to learn she really was just a spoiled brat. Looking through her bag, purse, and phone, she led nothing but a life of shopping, spending money, and doing nothing. She certainly had an attitude about her, which he slightly enjoyed playing with. In fact, he imagined he could have a lot of fun with her.
Growing up the way he did, his parents taught him that things were to be earned. money was to be earned. Granted, his money came from smuggling drugs and weapons and lending out loans, but he still earned that money through work. Violet earned her money by asking her dad for it and spending it in seconds. She certainly could teach her a thing about earning.
James was a man who liked to be in control—in control of women, to be exact. He got off on the thought of taking charge and control, ordering them what to do, and having them serve him from their knees as if he were their master. If they misbehaved, then they would be punished. If they behaved, then they would be rewarded. He'd never let a woman take control of him; there's no way in hell.
And yet something inside him was trying to teach that little brat a few manners, a few pleases, and thank you, sir, to respect those around her. Yes, he could tell this was going to be an interesting one. It won’t be long until she kicks up a fuss down there in her little room, kicking and screaming to be released.
If there was one thing about James, it was that he would never give in. She could kick and scream and beg and plead for all she wanted, and he still turned around and said no. If she thought she was going to have any control in this situation, then she was dead wrong. He was in full control, and she was going to have to learn that.
Notes:
Hey so I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments
Chapter Text
Violet tugged at the chain holding her to the floor, hoping for some sort of break in the links that could set her free from this room. But even if she could manage to set herself off from the chain, the door was locked, and she doubted there was anyone in this room to unpick the lock. Using all her strength and stubbornness, she continued fighting against the thick chain, being no match for it, until she gave up with a heavy sigh and slumped to the ground. Her nails were starting to lift and crack from this intense work, and one was throbbing under the underside.
It seemed like she was stuck here. James had planned it well, keeping her chained to the floor like some wild animal to keep her from causing any trouble. He knew she would react like this and had to take some precautions, of course.
Violet groaned, trying to pull the collar away from her neck just a bit to let herself breathe as the leather was tight and flush against her skin, rubbing against it, reminding her of her new predicament. She was still trying to overcome what James had told her.
There was no way any of that was true. Her father wouldn't do that. He wouldn't blow all their money on strippers and poker games and seek out the help of the mafia to help with his addictions. Violet would have known if something was going on. But when she came to think about it, her father had been acting up over the last day or so, keeping himself distant and acting all strange and flustered the other night after coming off the phone. Violet finally put two and two together and realised the one call must have been James.
He was certainly an intimidating man. very dominant and intense, the way he strolled inside her, towering over her like she was a tiny little ant, and the way he spoke to her with a tease in his voice as he warned her to behave herself. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she broke the rules or tried to escape, but being chained up in this small room had her wanting to do just that. There had to be a way out of here. If she could only break free of these chains, getting out of the room wouldn't be as hard if she wasn't tied to the floor.
Violet took a deep breath, grabbing a hold of the chain as tightly as she could, sitting back on the balls of her feet as she yanked it as hard as she could, hoping the base would break from the floor and she'd have some freedom. But all that happened was that the chain slipped from her hands, buring her palm, and she fell flat on her ass, groaning and hissing.
It was of no use. Without a key to the lock of the collar, she was stuck. Violet let out a whimper, throwing herself into the bed and trying to calm herself down as tears threatened to take over. A million thoughts went through her mind. If only she had carried on walking, if only she had ignored James and his friend and escaped the chance of her kidnapping from going ahead. If only she had probed her father more for information on what was wrong. Maybe she could have helped with all this.
But, like James said, would he have really told her everything? Violet had only known her father to be the most caring person she had had in her life—a well-mannered, strong, and smart man in the world of government with power and a voice.
But the way James had described him was like he was none of those things but a gambler and user of women. She didn't want to believe it. She wanted this to be a horrible nightmare that she would wake up and find wasn't true. but surely she would have woken up by now.
Hours passed as Violet huddled herself in the cold room, clutching the blanket to keep her warm as she waited for someone to come down. She listened for noises—the sound of footsteps to indicate someone was coming—but she only heard the dreaded silence. Her stomach was growling with hunger, begging to be fed and tightened up as she was sick with hunger. There was no clock, and there was no way of knowing the date. For all she knew, it had been days since she was taken, and without food or water, she was losing the strength that she needed to fight.
Finally, the sound of the floor creeking caught her attention, and she shot up quicly as the door started to unlock, teasing her as it took its time to click open and the door was pushed, revealing the other man from last night. He was tall, just like James, with lighter hair than James, combed back with whispy-cut ends and a few strands falling down beside his temples. His blue eyes were dazzling, and he was clean-shaven.
He wore a tight-fitting suit of navey blue, a tie that fitted around his neck perfectly, and he wore a strong scent of colonge, orange, and wood, hitting her nostrils. He was carrying a dinner tray with a plate on top and a cup.
"Dinner time," he said almost too cheerfully, as if he were mocking her, and Violet swallowed a hard lump in the back of her throat, shaking her head as she moved a few strands of blonde locks from her eyes and stood up straight with power.
"I want to speak to James," she ordered, and the man chuckled.
"Sweetheart, I don't think you're in a position to make demands," he teased, and Violet sank slightly, her eyes hard on him.
"I need to speak to him," she said with a hard tone, and the man looked at her, tilting his head to the side with a smirk.
"What for?" he asked, crossing his strong arms over his chest.
"That's none of your business," she sassed, and the man laughed, shaking his head.
"Whatever, eat up; it's the last meal of the night until breakfast." The man turned to leave the room, and Violet rushed over to the door. Perhaps she had a chance to grab the door before he shut it, an opportunity to smack him down by shoving the door into him, a possibility she might be able to fight for keys that could unlock the collar as well as the door and bide her freedom. but the chain just wasn't long enough, and she was yanked back again, pulling on her throat and knocking the air out of her lungs as she gasped for breath, cluthcing her neck. The man scoffed, wasting no time in slamming the door and locking it. The clicks were loud enough to echo in the small room and leave Violet panting on the floor.
"Fuck," she hissed into the ground, wiping away her locks that were messy and untamed, and she sighed. She was going to have to make me much smarter than that. The smell of cooked dinner gave her the strength to push herself up from the floor, the chain rattling as it dragged across the floor as she made her way to the desk.
On the plate were mashed potatoes, greens, sausages, and gravy, along with a cup of orange squash. It wasn't what she was used to. Her meals normally consisted of the finest fish brought from the sea to their plates, steaks cooked to perfection with sauce, homemade pasta and garlic bread, and the finest wines and cocktails made for her. But this wasn't the Ritz Hotel; this wasn't one of her fancy rooftop cocktail bars back home. This was a prison, and as a prisoner, she was going to be treated as such.
But food was food, and it was better than nothing. She sank into the uncomfortable chair, picking up the fork and dipping into the vegetables. They were boiled with very little taste, and the mash was lumpy and cold. The gravy was about the best thing on the plate, and the sausages were tough. but she gobbled it down, fearing that her next meal might not be for some time. With no essence of time in this room, she had no idea how long it was until breakfast.
She gulped down the juice, washing down the mixture of cheap food and bland flavours, and sighed heavily.
'What am I going to do?' she wondered. There was no answer to how long she would be here or how long it would take her father to pay back the money. However, that gave her plenty of time to think of escape plans and coping mechanisms for her new life.
She wasn't going to let this guy win, and if that meant fiddling every step of the way, then so be it. rubbing her face, she dragged her hands down, groaning softly and peeking through the cracks in her fingers, her eyes laying on something.
The knife. It's sharp tip was the perfect solution for her chain problem. Snatching the knife off the desk, she grinned to herself, almost squealing in delight that she had finally found something that could give her freedom. The plan was simple. unpick the lock to free her from the collar, and wait until Steve or James came back down. She didn't know self-defence, but kicking a guy in the groyne would certainly buy her time to run, and if she did it right and thought about it carefully, she may have a chance.
"Yes," she whispered to herself, and she padded over into the small bathroom, up to the mirror. The padlock was big, big enough for the tip of the knife to slide in and work its way through its complicated mechanism. Violet took a breath and began to work her way to freedom.
Steve padded back to the living room where James was situated and lazily sat on the couch with his feet up, his prescious white cat sitting on his lap, enjoying the tender strokes of his owner while he purred softly. Alpine, his pride and joy. a fluffy white car with bright blue eyes just like james. he looked just like a bond viliian with alpine on his lap, giving him scratches and tickles under his chin and behind his ears. A beer was held in his other hand as he focused on the game showing on TV.
"She was asking for you," Steve announced as he came in, slumping down on the other couch and folding his leg over.
"What did she want?" James asked, curious, a raise of his brow being added.
"She said she wanted to talk to you; I didn't ask why. I just told her she wasn't in a position to make demands," he shurgged, and James chuckled evilly.
"She really is a little brat. I suppose Daddy dearest has spoiled her for years," James said with a smirk. If this girl thought she was going to be making demands, then James definitely had a few things to teach her. He was going to have to hold back on teaching her a few manners yet, but even not being there made the urge to do so harder to resist.
He could imagine her now, over his knee, while he spanked her for being a brat and demanding to get what she wanted. or perhaps have her lick his shoe while she begged for James to teach her how to be a good girl. Either way, if she carried on like this, he wouldn't be able to hold back.
For now, she'd have some quiet time to herself, time to calm herself down and come to terms with everything, and tomorrow he'd visit her. The fun will soon start.
Notes:
Hey I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments
Chapter Text
Violet had been working on the lock for hours, twiddling the knife in and out, hoping to hear a click. Time had ticked by quickly, but with no clock or telling of the time, she carried on. Every time she thought the knife was going to unlock it, she heard nothing, and it made her angry, to the point she wanted to throw the knife across the room, which she did at one point, but that helped in no way.
She groaned in frustration, crawling over to grab the knife, then went back to the bed, sitting back against the wall, and had another shot at it. She was not giving up. One way or another, she was going to find a way out of here. Exhaustion was starting to consume her, and she knew she needed to go to sleep soon, but she didn’t want to give up on the possibility of escaping. What if Steve came back and took the knife and the rest of the dinner tray away, leaving her with nothing? James seemed like a smart man, enough to make sure that his hostage, bounty, leverage, whatever you wanted to call her, wouldn’t escape. But had he counted that idea that she could use the knife as a means of escape or a weapon?
James and the other guy didn’t seem like men who could be easily scared or manipulated into letting her go free, and even the threatening use of a knife wouldn’t make him give in. If anything, it was more hilarious to him watching a bratty girl like her try to fight her way out of this and demand to be released; otherwise, she would use the knife on them. James could take her down in seconds and have that knife pinned to her throat before she could even scream.
As she sat in silence, concentrating as hard as she could on the lock, listening carefully for that little click, she gasped as it came. Her fingers trembled in excitement as she unlatched the padlock from its base, twisting it and throwing it to the ground. She had actually freed herself. She gasped with exhilaration, and her fingers worked like lightening to remove the leather collar. She practically threw it across the room, glaring at it and feeling her neck, rubbing it softly for comfort. It was humiliating enough to be chained to the floor like a dog, kept at a short length with nowhere else to go.
She was free but still stuck in the small room. She hadn’t exactly counted on this part of the plan and realised that as she stood and ran to the door, realising it was locked. "Shit!" she groaned, falling into the door. She really should have thought this through better. But that was classic Violet—not thinking before doing, thinking that she knew what she was doing when in reality she didn’t have a fucking clue.
Not to worry, though; she had time. It wasn’t like she was going anywhere. Pacing the room, she began to devise a plan in her head, one she hoped was going to work well. The knife was an added bonus to her plan, and she hoped it was going to play out just the way she wanted it to.
It seemed as though no one was coming back, and she was fighting against sleep. She didn’t want to, fearing that she’d wake up to either James or Steve walking in on her and seeing the collar unlocked from her neck. They would easily have the upper hand and could take her down in seconds. But as she lay on the mattress, the only bit of warmth from the blanket took over her body, and she drifted off into a tired slumber.
Violet groaned as she woke, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she snapped them open to a blurry mess. Her mind was clouded and confused, and it took her a minute to remember where she was. She scrambled from the bed, staring around the small room, and sighed. Oh yes, she remembered now. Her father and his gambling addiction; James and his intimidation; the knife and the collar. The knife was laid on the unlocked collar, and Violet snatched it quickly, holding it tightly in her hand.
Her body was still exhausted, and she wanted to crawl back under the small blanket for more, but she couldn’t stay here; she couldn’t stand another minute in this hellhole, so she quickly stood, debating whether to get into her planned position or to quickly use the bathroom. If she needed a wee the whole time, she’d never get out of here alive, so she quickly went, washing her hands furiously, and ran to where the door was. She was in the perfect position for her escape. As soon as the door would open, she’d be out of sight, out of mind, giving her a chance to either slam the door on whoever entered or make a run for it. It was risky and perhaps naive of her to think this plan was full proof, but anything was better than sitting here while James won this battle between her father and him.
It felt like ages as she waited, but she never left. life clutched in her hand, and she listened carefully, waiting for a creak of floorboards or a scuff of shoes to indicate someone was there. Her heart began to beat so fast and hard that she was nervous and scared, and her adrenaline was running high. As she heard a faint noise getting closer and louder, her stomach tightened as it does when you become nervous about something, making you anxious, and she was extremely anxious. She held the knife even tighter, her knuckles turning bright white, and she waited in silence, even holding her breath, scared that they would hear her. The lock clicked, and the door opened, pushing her almost all the way in and hiding her from the man stepping in. She couldn’t see if it was James or Steve, but she didn’t have time to decide.
She used her whole body strength to slam the door back, knocking the tall figure into the door frame, crushing his arm, and setting off a loud wail. His voice was deep, but it was clear it wasn’t James, and as Violet stepped from behind the door, she saw it was the man from last night. Steve hissed and groaned as pain rushed through his arm from the door, slamming it, and Violet smashed the door against him again, making him fall to the ground. She leapt over him, running for her life, her hair flailing wildly behind her, her breath short and ragged as she sprinted for freedom.
She had run down a hallway, and considering James had told her she was in a basement, it didn’t look or feel like a basement. It must have just been a room at the end of a hallway. Why would James tell her she was down in his basement? But was she seriously debating in her head why he said it was a basement when that didn’t even matter right now? The hallway was lined with warm lights, and the walls were a sandy colour. Her feet pounded on the carpet, which was soft and silky to the touch, but it almost made her slip over as her socks scraped against it. She passed a few doors on either side until she came to a large entrance. A grand set of stairs reach the top floor, and another hallway leads further down into the mansion. It was definitely the mansion. Ordinarily, Violet would love looking at this sort of thing. Interior design and huge houses like this were another hobby of hers, but at this exact time, this was the least of her worries and not something she should set her mind to.
She looked around quickly for an exit and saw the front door, large and free. She took her chance, sprinting to the door. For a minute, she thought this was too easy, and when she reached for the handle, ready to yank it open, her body was smashed against the door, her rough hands grabbing her hair and arm. It felt like every bone in her body had been crushed, and the door handle stabbed into her stomach, winding her and taking the air right out of her lungs. She gasped for air, coughing and spluttering.
She was forcibly turned, shoved back up against the hard door, and the dark, narrowed eyes of Steve burned into her.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” he warned, his voice low and menacing, and she swallowed, her eyes wide. He gripped her hair tightly and forced her to walk, her steps all over the place as she was tagged from the door of freedom, winces and whimpers escaping her. She thought he would be dragging her back to the prison she was in, but instead he led her somewhere else. He furiously opened a door, throwing Violet inside, and she landed on her front, face first, on a dark carpet. There was silence, and as she glanced up, he saw a pair of polished dress shoes just inches from her face. She didn’t need to look up to know it was James.
James was just as startled and surprised as her, turning with confusion written on his face, brows furrowed, and looking up at Steve for an explanation.
“What’s going on?” his smooth voice said, and Violet pushed herself to get up from the floor. She wasn’t going to lie here in humiliation, even though her achy body wanted her too. But she was optimistic, and she hadn’t even been an inch off the floor before a large foot came crashing down on her shoulders, holding her down. She let out a wince, the shoe pressing sharply in between her shoulder blades, and his sharp voice commanded her.
“You stay down,” he ordered, and Violet gasped softly, her fingers digging into the carpet.
“Just caught her trying to escape, crushed the fucking door on me, ahhh,” he winced as he finally had a chance to rest his arm, and James blinked down at her, his face stoic. He imagined she was going to put up a fight, but not this early on. Perhaps he was wrong about her.
He stared down at her beneath his foot, all squirming and submissive-like. He quite liked it, watching her pant and wince as he applied just a bit more pressure. Her hair was a wild mess of blonde, and her clothes were creased. Perhaps it would be a good time to teach her a valuable lesson. He noticed the collar was gone, leaving just a few red marks on her neck, and he wondered how she managed to get rid of it.
“You okay?” James asked as Steve rotated his arm, nodding, but he didn’t look pleased. He had endured worse than a crushed arm, so he’d definitely survive, but James knew he was more pissed at the fact a girl like Violet could overpower him easily like that.
"Yeah, I’ll be fine. You want me to take her back?” He grimaced, glaring down at the girl flat on her face, and James tutted, lifting the corner of his lip up as he stared down at her.
“No, I’ll take it from here; Sam’s heading out, so why don’t you go help him?” James suggested, and Steve huffed.
"Gladly,” he waltzed off in a grump, moaning and groaning at the pain in his arm, and James couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He could be so dramatic when he wanted to be. The two of them were left alone, and James stared down at Violet again, watching her for a good minute. The girls were in serious need of discipline. Her whimpers and squirms weren’t going to convince James to let her go. What she needed was a good lesson taught.
“Why did you try and escape?” He asked, still standing above her with his foot buried deep in her body. Violet groaned, trying to move under him, but his weight held her down impeccably.
“Because I don’t deserve to be here, you can’t keep me locked up like that forever.” She tried to sound confident and at least a little bit threatening, but all James heard was her high-pitched voice and a wince as she struggled underneath him. It was entertaining watching her down there, and he chuckled softly, shaking his head.
“I already explained to you why you’re here, Violet, and I told you there would be consequences if you didn’t behave,” he warned, as if he were speaking to a child, and Violet groaned in frustration, still fighting against his heavy foot. She was practically clawing at the carpet.
“What are you going to do, spank me?” she joked. A light laugh came from her, and she felt his weight shift. He finally lifted his foot from her shoulders, crouching down beside her, and took a firm grip on her hair as he lifted her head slightly but also leaned down to her ear.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”.
Notes:
Hey I hope you like it, let me know what you think in the comment
Chapter Text
Violet gasped as she stared up at James underneath her golden bangs, heroes blinking in both horror and fear. Was he being serious, or was he just saying that to scare her, to throw the fear into her to make her behave? Surely he wasn’t. But his tone sounded so serious that she shuddered, and his dark eyes gazing at her intensely made the notion even more believable. But was this her doing? She had only meant it as a joke—to rile him up, annoy him, and get on her nerves—to frustrate him so that he would just throw her back into that small prison room and leave her be. But her thought process for that was clearly wrong, and she wished she hadn’t said anything. She wished she had kept her big mouth shut. She had quite clearly given him even more of a reason to spank her, to punish her, and to teach her a lesson. It had slipped from her mouth, and James was going to take that opportunity.
He was quick with his movements, yanking her from the floor by the scruff of her neck with a ball of frazzled hair, wrapped around his long, slender fingers, and forcing her over to the large couch placed to the side of his office. It was smooth leather, dark, and rich, with gold legs. She managed to get a good look at him, dressed in a suit of all black, finely tailored to his body and size, tightly fitting, and of expensive taste. His rich cologne flooded her senses, almost drugging her, and a few strands of his dark locks had fallen in front of his forehead, adding that little extra spice to him. She screamed as he overpowered her so easily, barely even having to lift his arm to drag her across, forcing her into the desired position for her punishment. He seated himself down on the couch, legs spread, to place her between them. her chest laying flat across his thigh, with her legs dangling underneath. She scrambled for freedom, clawing at his leg, the carpet, and the couch, but she was weak, like a feather. Her life of shopping and manicures was no use for her now. She should have spent more time at the gym bulking up in case handsome mafia men kidnapped her for a debt owed.
She was in the perfect position for James. completely exposed, her ass slightly turned up to give him a full view of it, a hand gripping the clump of hair to keep her still. His power loomed over her; his simple position sat on the couch while she was kneeling before him, able to grab and restrain her at anytime while she wiggled and squirmed with no ounce of release.
Violet was unaccustomed to disciplining. She had gone her whole life doing whatever she wanted without a care, without someone to give her any direction or guidance. Growing up, she had always been a good girl until she reached her teens, where she acquired a taste for fashion, beauty, and money. Her bratty attidude was born at the age of fifteen, sassing at her father for suggesting that she do her homework instead of talk to her friends all night long. Over the years, her father had given up with her, trying to enforce some structure and rules around the house but realising nothing would work on her. It was best to let the monster live rather than fight it every day. never had he gotten physical with her or even touched the idea of punishments.
But James was not her father. He was not going to tolerate this kind of behaviour. He was not going to allow her to behave this way without learning from her actions and facing the consequences. She was in dire need of some discipline, and he was more than happy to administer it. It had only been two days, and she was already trying to escape, disobeying his warning that if she did, he would punish her. Bad girls need to be punished, and he was already enjoying the sight of her draped over his thigh.
She squirmed with heavy breaths until she realised that his grip was too strong and she wasn't going anywhere. For a while, James just sat and watched her, tugging her ever so slightly back into position without a word until she huffed and calmed down. His smirk grew evil, and his voice spoke softly.
"Good girl," he murmured, and Violet swallowed, her eyes wide with curiosity. Suddenly, his large hand pushed itself inside the grey joggers, sliding them down her smooth, buttery skin. The touch of his hand set off electric shocks, and she squirmed even more as she felt exposed and vulnerable, her ass completely on show except for her thong panties that she was still wearing from a couple days ago, a reminder of the night she was taken.
This was truly happening. She had hoped he was just going to scare her with the thought, threaten her that if she didn't do as she was told, the next time he really would punish her, and then send her back off to her room. but she was wrong again. In a split second, her thong was yanked down, and she truly was exposed, the cold air hitting her sensitive mound and her thighs pressing together as if to conceal herself somehow, but nothing could be hidden from him.
A firm tug on her hair kept her in place, and she yelped a little, swallowing a lump of saliva at the back of her throat as she felt his fingers trail up her leg across her smooth ass, laying there for what felt like minutes.
"Now you're going to tell me why I'm punishing you," he said smoothly, his voice low and dominant and serious, and Violet scoffed under her breath, trying to hide her face from her cheeks heating up. Was he still being serious? He was treating her like a child.
"Fuck you," she whispered, trying to keep her voice quiet so he wouldn't hear her, but the sharp tug on her hair yanked her head up in full view, her mouth opening wide with a wince indicating otherwise.
"I suggest you answer me, or this is going to be worse for you," he scolded, and she took a deep breath. She hadn't realised she was gripping onto her leg for support, and when he didn't drop her head from his craned position, she gave into his demand.
"Because I tried to run away," she squeaked, and James softly chuckled, the vibrations in his throat sounding close to her ear.
"That's right, you disobeyed me trying to escape like that, and now you need to be punished. Bad girls are punished and good girls are rewarded, and right now you need some serious discipline." His voice was husky and intimidating, and Violet was clinging to his every word.
"I'm going to spank you, and after each one, I want you to say thank you, sir," he ordered, and Violet snorted, shaking her head. She wasn't going to be defeated in this and subjected to this submissive behaviour.
"Yeah righ-Ahhh!" His hand came down in a loud smack, flesh on flesh, a burning sensation tingling straight away as his hand made contact with her bare ass, fingers gripping into the skin, and Violet jolted from the impact. The cold of the ring on his thumb dug into her flesh and left a distinctive mark. It was harsh and painful, like nothing she had ever felt before in her life. Her eyes immediately began to water, and she fought with every ounce of strength left in her body. but she should have learned from the first time James was too strong and had the upper hand here. With a swift motion, his foot pressed on her flattening hands on the carpet, a perfect polished dress shoe pressing into them to keep them still and out of his way. How he managed to so easily get her in this position, she didn't know, but she was stuck now. The thick soles dug into the backs of her hands, crushing every finger and bone.
Another smack came, and she winced, trying to lean forward away from his dangerous palm, and another tug on her hair meant he was waiting for something.
"I'm waiitng Violet," he warned, and she huffed. There was no way out of this except through it. With a quiet, grumpy voice, she said the words he was aching to hear.
"Thank you, sir." Another smack came immediately as her words were spoken and his lips pressed to her ear.
"I can't hear you," he teased. another smack, and Violet groaned, gritting her teeth together.
"Thank you, sir.".
James smirked, raising his hand and smacking it back down on her now-red ass. It didn't take long for it to heat up, with her skin warm and tender and the flesh turning bright red. It was tingling as if she had been burned with a hot pan, her flesh sensitive and fragile. After every spank, she spoke the words he wanted to hear, humiliation settling in early on in her punishment.
James was enjoying it too much, his cock turning hard beneath the tightness of his pants and his body heating up under his suit. The pain in her hands was nowhere near the same as her swollen ass, and the spanks just kept coming. She eventually settled into his leg, allowing her discipline to be administered thoroughly and consistently. There was a lone tear in the corner of her eye, and she sniffled it away, wincing as the last few spanks were the most painful. Her ass felt like it had been set on fire, the feeling almost turning numb to the point where even a gentle touch was too harsh for her.
She thought it was over when Unitl James proceeded to end with a nonstop string of spanks, one after another, as he scolded her further.
"So when I tell you, Violet, that you're not to escape and that if you do, I will punish you again, even more than this, are you going to do as you told me?" He asked, staring down at her, and she whimpered, pulling at his grip for release.
"Yes," she cried out, but he wasn't satisfied, and he kept on spanking her.
"Yes, what?" he gritted.
"Yes, sir," she assumed, was the phrase he wanted to hear, and she was finally right about something. He grinned heavily, fighting the urge to slip his hand further down. He'd love to feel her sensitive mound, dip his fingers into her slick pussy, and tease her some more, but this was a punishment, not a reward.
"Are you going to be a good girl and obey me?" He raised a brow, tilting his head slightly even though she couldn't see him, but she nodded her head fast. In the time it took him to get her into position and administer the spanking, she was like putty in his hands. Her fighting spirit had run off and left behind a submissive brat in need of discipline and order. She was broken, and he was pleased.
Violet had never thought she'd let a man break her down like this and succumb her to this whimpering, obedient girl, letting him take order and control over her. She was a strong woman in her day-to-day life, always getting what she wanted. but in minutes she was forced down and made to surrender, and James found every second of it thrilling and arousing.
"Good girl" He placed his hand on her ass, his now gentle touch giving her ass a sting even as he barely touched her. He stayed still for a moment, watching as she caught her breath, brought herself back to reality as she clawed her way out of subspace, and wiggled under him. He finally released the pressure of his foot from her hands, bringing back the blood and feeling to her fingers. She flexed them, although the pain was worse when she did that, and James shuffled to pull up her pants and joggers, covering up her disciplined ass.
With a tug, he yanked her head back, forcing her to arch her back as she stared into his dark oceaon eyes, a gasp escaping with a stutter as she looked up.
"Now let's get you back where you belong.".
Notes:
Hey I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments
Chapter Text
Violet stared at her ass in the mirror in the small bathroom, wincing as she lightly touched it with the tip of her nail, and an electric shock zapped through her entire back. Her pale skin was now a deep shade of red and blotchy, with small welts from the smack of his ring breaking the skin and leaving an indent. It was a painful punishment, but did she learn her lesson? Aboslulty not.
Despite James giving her a thorough reprimand for her bratty behaviour, she wasn't about to leave it on the curb and replace it with perfect submissive obedience. If anything, it only made her want to rebel more. But it didn't look like a chance for that was going to come up any time soon.
The leather collar had been locked back into her neck, this time an inch tighter, so that the leather almost choked her, restraining her to the floor once again. The very thought of her in that collar with a red and sore ass made James smile in pleasure, a tingle running down his body. Perhaps he would visit her more often now, just to see her.
Violet huffed, pacing the room once again in frustration. Her first experience of discipline and being dominated like that had her in a whimpering mess at James's feet, and she was pissed with herself. This man could so easily have her to the ground with a flick of his wrist, have complete control over her, and have her thank him for her punishment. She could tell he enjoyed it that way too, which made her even more pissed.
Violet wasn't a shy girl when it came to men. She had plenty of them in her life, normally rich playboys who had nothing better to do than fuck any blonde in heels with money. She was a consort of men, hoping that each one would wine and dine her until she got what she wanted and then drop them like trash when she got bored. She was so used to them following her at her heel, calling her baby, and tapping their black credit card without taking their eyes off her while she flashed a pretty smile and a giggle.
but James was different. He was not a man who could easily be subdued by a pretty face and a desire to do whatever she wanted. If anything, she was going to beg him. He was older than the usual men she would look out for, and his dominant tone of voice and 'doesn't give a shit' attitude were something Violet had never encountered. She was like a baby throwing her toys out the pram, not getting what she wanted, having him back down at her demands, and learning that he was in charge, that he was in control, and that he was going to win.
But she wasn't going to stop there. Of course, the knife had been taken away, and the possibility of one coming anytime soon was slim. Violet landed on the mattress in a huff but instantly regretted it as the searing pain in her backside stung like she had sat on a hot stove, wincing and gritting her teeth together to keep the scream inside. She didn't want to show mercy or submissiveness.
It wasn't long before footsteps came scuffing down the hallway, and the door was pushed open hard, with a scowling Steve entering as he kicked the door shut behind him. The collar was on her, but he wasn't in the mood for any tricks she had up her sleeve. Violet watched with wide eyes as he set down a tray of food, a bowl of steam in the middle of the tray, and a glass of water.
"Thank you," she said in a happy voice, plastering on a fake smile, and Steve glared over her, one eye narrowing and the eyebrow on the other side rising up.
"What's your name?" She asked sweetly, tucking a piece of ragged hair behind her ear. She was looking very dishevelled now, with her makeup nearly all gone and her hair now a bird's nest of blonde locks. She was dying for a shower and something to freshen up with.
"Whatever it is you're trying to pull, forget it," he warned.
"I'm not pulling anything," she let out a little giggle at the end, and Steve huffed, his lips curling up at the sides, and he crossed his arms over her chest, his muscles bulging from under the suit.
"I heard Buck gave you quite a punishment," he smirked, and Violet snorted from her nose.
"It barely even hurt," she shrugged, throwing her head up in the air and acting all cocky. Steve chuckled.
"Well, I'll be sure to tell him that, so next time he can go harder on you." that completely backfired on her. Her face dropped instantly, a glare looming over her eyes, darkening. She hoped to sound like she was going to put up a good fight with these men, but instead she only made it worse for her the next time she broke the rules. Violet let out a heavy breath, curling her arms around her legs.
"If I were you, I'd be a good girl and be careful what you do around here. He won't hesitate to do that again, or next time, do it harder." Steve warned her. Her sassy attitude would have replied, but she couldn't help but believe his words and sink further into the tight ball she was curling herself into. Something about James said he wasn't fucking around here; he wasn't going to be playing games of tag and hide and seek with her, and he would happily discipline her for it.
"Anway, you deserved it for crushing the door on my fucking arm like that; you're lucky I didn't get involved," he grinned sadistically, and Violet glared at him.
"Ear your lunch, and don't fucking try anything," he pointed a hard finger at her before slamming the door, the room slightly shaking from the force, and Violet sighed heavily. Scrambling from the floor, she padded to the desk to look down at the grim-looking soup. green with lumpy bits and a plastic spoon. Of course they would give plastic now. Her trust had been broken, and she was reduced to a child's cutlery.
She had no choice but to eat. If she was going to escape this nightmare, she needed her strength. The pea soup tasted awful, but she forced it down, coming to terms with the taste at the end, and gulped down the water, even though she wished she had saved it for her next meal. The bathroom water didn't look drinkable, and now she wondered how long it would be until the next refill.
The room of nothing was torture. With nothing to entertain herself with, all she could do was stare up at the ceiling, sit, and braid small strands of hair before unravelling them and doing it again, seeing the smallest one she could make, with no telling of the time; it was pure agony not knowing when someone was going to come or not.
Exhaustion had taken over her, and Violet had fallen asleep. She hadn't relaised; her morning of running, spanking, and sassing had taken a toll on her, and she slowly drifted off, curled in whatever warmth she could get from the blanket, and she had fallen into a deep dream.
James was there, towering above her with his height, staring down at her with dark eyes that pierced into her. His hands wrangled themselves in her hair, yanking her head back, warmth and breath tickling her neck as he ran his teeth across the sensitive skin, licking up to her ear. He whispered words into her and then came a spank, the loud smack waking her from her slumber, and she gasped. She was covered in sweat and felt sticky and hot.
She yanked the blanket off of her for some air and sat up, breathing deeply. She couldn't believe she had just dreamt that. The fiasco of this morning was forcing her to behave even while she was asleep, warning her that he'd spank her again for any insolence. Her ass was still sore, and she winced as she pushed herself onto her side to elevate the pain.
To her luck, she had managed to pass time with her mid-afternoon nap but was feeling groggy and gross. She was desperate for a shower now. Her throat was dry, and she needed a drink of water as well.
It wasn't long before she heard the scuff of shoes again, and she assumed it was Steve bringing her next meal, but as the door opened and James entered in with a presence, she sat up some more in surprise, staring up at him from the floor. He smirked instantly and kicked the door shut with ease, leaving the two of them in a room of silence. She was surprised that he was carrying the next tray of food.
"Comfortable, don't you?" He asked with a raised brow and a cockiness in his voice. She knew he was referring to her tender ass, and Violet hummed.
"Just fine," she sassed back, and he chuckled softly, setting down the tray. Of course, her brattiness hadn't been punished out of her; she still had a lot more fire inside her, but James wasn't complaining. He was going to enjoy teaching her the respect she should give others, especially him.
"Perhaps I didn't do it hard enough," he teased. Of course Steve had told him what she had said, and he had smirked when he said it. He was very happy to oblige to a harsher punishment. The thought of her between his legs, wincing with every blow to her ass, begging for him to stop, saying the sweet words he enjoyed hearing, the feel of his hand landing smack bang on her cheeks, or even with the use of a paddle or cane. Whatever would bring out the begging in her would work.
He was glad he came down here and didn't send Sam instead. The leather collar was wrapped beautifully around her neck, keeping her restrained and docile. He knew his ass was stinging right now, but she was putting on her tough girl act. He replaced the trays with the food, taking the empty one, and turned to leave. He would stay and spend more time teasing her, but at the same time, she had to earn his presence.
"I need a shower," she quickly said as she watched him about to leave, and James turned, furrowing his brows. She was looking like a mess, but after this morning, could he trust her? Was this just another effort to make an escape? To be honest, he wouldn't mind if that meant he could have another go at her.
"Do you now?" He leaned against the door frame, folding his arms across his chest.
"Yes," she snapped. She was growing inpatient as she knew he was dilbertly teasing her, like he was dangling a carrot in front of a donkey to make them walk.
"Do you think that's how you ask for something?" He raised a brow, slightly tipping his head to the side, and Violet huffed, her chest deflating.
"Please, can I have a shower?" She put on a fake baby voice, fluttering her lashes, and James pushed himself off the door, padding over to her. In a matter of seconds, she grabbed the length of chain near the collar, yanking it up so her neck was tugged, choking her, the leather digging in as she was pulled slightly off the ground but not enough for her to stand. She struggled to gain support, her hands fighting and searching for something to grab hold of, but the only thing she had access to was his leg.
"Ask me properly, or you won't get anything," he whispered as he stared down at her, his face inches from hers, and she gasped for air, her eyes turning glassy and her lips quivering. He really wasn't fucking around. His ocean eyes stared down lazily into her wide green ones. She gulped, trying to reach for air, her hands shaking for something to grip onto. She didn't want to give in or submit to him, especially not like this, but she didn't have much of a choice, and as she opened her mouth to speak, hoping a firm voice would come out, all she did was squeak.
"Please, can I have a shower?" She begged, and James raised his head just a little further up, chin pointing and brows raising.
"Are you going to behave?" She asked, nodding her head as quickly as she could, wanting nothing more than to get out of this chokehold. After a few seconds of gazing down at her, his smirk grew, and he let out a soft hum.
"Good girl." A little praise never hurt anyone, and he instantly dropped the chain to the floor, letting her hit the ground with it. She coughed and gasped for air, running a hand across her neck where the collar had dug into her flesh. Fuck! She hadn't realised how easily he overpowered her and made her submit. She would have spat in his face if she wasn't desperate for a shower and some water, but instead she accepted defeat and obeyed his command.
but the fight wasn't over yet.
Notes:
Hey I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments
Chapter Text
Violet stumbled along the floor as James dragged her up the stairs to one of the bathrooms. She didn't get much of a chance to look properly, but from a quick glance, she knew this place was huge, and she wondered how much it cost him, but of course he could easily afford it with all the money he gets paid back. She tripped and skidded across the floor, huffing as he yanked her further, his fingers digging into her upper arm. She wanted to fight back against him, but he was too strong. They reached the bathroom, and James shoved her inside.
"You've got fifteen minutes; I'll be out here waiting, so don't try anything," he warned and slammed the door shut, leaving her in the expensive bathroom. It was beautiful. A huge wet room was off to one corner, and a bath tub filled one side of the wall on the other. The perfect light brown granite table tops of tiles gave a warm glow to the room, and the sink was huge, covering most of the counter top. cupboards and shelves were neatly placed in, not crowding the room, and everything had an expensive touch to it.
Violet stepped into the shower, the hot, steamy water relaxing her sore muscles, but as she turned, the water stung her ass, and she gritted her teeth together, holding back the groan as she quickly washed. The horrible stench building up on her was now replaced with fresh citrus fruits, and her hair lingered with freshness. She could stand there all day under the hot water, relaxed in its warmth and cloud of steam, but James was waiting for her. She stepped out of the shower, patting her body dry with the big fluffy towel and ringing out the water from her hair.
Staring down at the damp clothes on the floor, she grimaced at them, not wanting to put them back on. They were caked in sweat and tears and felt disgusted. padding the door, she called out to James outside.
"Can I please have some new clothes?" She said it with as much politeness as possible to make her get what she wanted. She waited for a minute, not hearing a response, and sighed heavily, about to give a frustrated plea, until the door swung open and she stepped back suddenly. James stood, holding a new pair of long trousers that were thin but looked comfy, and a plain white t-shirt. He held them out for her, and Violet went to grab them, but he yanked them away teasingly, raising a brow.
"What do you say?" he asked, and Violet silently huffed.
"Thank you," she almost spat and reached for them again, but he pulled them further, almost holding them above his head, waiting. Violet groaned softly, dropping her arms by her sides and grumbling.
"Thank you, sir." She looked up through dark lashes, and James smirked, slowly handing her the clothes, which she snatched and slammed the door on him. She hated how he had this much control over her, but it was the only way to get what she needed. Slipping on the dark blue lounge trousers and t-shirt that barely fit over her boobs, she felt so much more refreshed. but looking at the girl in the mirror was unusual to her. No makeup, no big bouncy blowdrys, no stylish clothes. She was nothing but a prisoner now. Her neck was sore from the collar, and her ass was still red.
A small tear came to her eye, and she sniffled, rubbing it away. She didn't want to let this defeat her—to make her submit, cry, and beg for mercy. No, she wanted to fight this. Her father would want her to. But then again, had he been so blinded by his gambling addiction that he so easily listed her off as collateral until the debt was repaid? She didn't want to think about it, so she rubbed her tired, tear-filled eyes, plastering on her brave and bratty face.
Opening the door to James, who was leaning against the stair bannister, arms folded tightly as he waited for her, he smirked and pushed himself off, padding slowly to her. Violet didn't shrink or back down, holding her head as high as she could as he towered over her. The t-shirt was clearly too tight for her chest, and her boobs were pressing against it so tightly that the material rode up her stomach, showing off her belly. She was extremely pretty with a beautiful body, one that James would enjoy seeing in rope or leather, on her knees before him with that collar wrapped around her neck.
Perhaps he will do just that. That would teach her not to be such a fucking brat. The use of a whip on her would make her listen—or a cane. Not only would he be getting a loan repayment, but he would also get the chance to train a brat into a perfect submissive, someone with manners and respect. He hadn't imagined her to be so sassy and assumed she'd be obedient and docile, but instead he was hit with this.
Violet was about to storm out of the bathroom when James shoved his arm on the frame, trapping her inside, and he stared down at her.
"Aren't you going to thank me for the shower?" he teased. Why let her think she could get away with no respect for how nice he was being to her? She huffed.
"Thank you so much," she teased in a high voice, clearly putting it on with sarcasm. With swift hands, James grabbed her hair, flinging her around so her ass was pressed out, and he smacked her square in the centre, where the most painful spot was. She yelled and jumped, squirming in his hold, until he gave her hair a tug, and she stopped in silence.
"Do you want to try that again?" He questioned her, and she breathed, nostrils flaring, but gave in anyway.
"Thank you, sir, for the shower," she said in a softer tone, and his soft chuckle assured her he was pleased.
"Good, you know I really don't like that tone with me; you should be thanking me for being so nice to you and letting you have a shower. I could have easily left you in there," he ran his hand over her spine, running it down between her legs, and she gasped as he tightened his grip on her mound, pulling up. A tingle shot through her, and she gripped his leg for support.
"From now on, you address me as Sir at all times; do I make myself clear?" He ordered, his voice strong and tough, and Violet swallowed, eyes wide, and a soft tug on her strands lifted her head further up, his lips pressing to her ear.
"I asked you a question." He whispered, his tone slightly softer, the end word picking up, and Violet groaned quietly.
"Yes, sir," she murmured, with no sass and no huff. just the words. He had the ability to make her submit right under the palm of his hands.
"Good girl," his praise sent another tingle in her, making her feel fuzzy and warm. It was frustrating how much control he had over her, how easily he got his way, and how he was taking it away from her. He roughly tugged her up, his hand still wrapped in her hair, with complete control over her whole body as he forced her to walk.
Back in the small prison, Violet leant against the wall by her bed, her collar locked back on tightly to the point it was almost constricting her airway. Every time she swallowed, the collar tightened, and she winced at it. She hated herself for giving into James like that, but there was no chance of her winning the fight or ever winning. Her head was swirling with all different thoughts and strategies on how to play this out.
She could either take the good girl route and ride this out or rebel at every moment. She hoped the FBI or police were on the case, but there was an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach that made her think they weren't. James had made it clear the police worked for him and would rather really jeopardise his career. If his colleagues knew about what he did and the people he was involved with, he'd be kicked out of there like a football.
But could she survive any longer in this small room, chained like an animal? Perhaps if she could get James to start to trust her, she could make an escape if he loosened up around her. But would her fiery nature allow her to do so?
Too exhausted to think, she slid into the bed and wrapped the covers around her, staring at a small spot on the wall as sleep took over.
James slumped in the plush chair in the living room, one leg over the other, bouncing so comfortably as he held his phone to his ear, listening to the endless ringing. He wondered if John was even going to pick him up. To his luck, he did, and the graggly, nervous voice of John answered.
"Hello," James smirked instantly, hearing the fear in his voice, and he hadn't even said anything.
"John, how's it going? I hope you're working hard on getting me my money," he said, and John swallowed.
"Yes, yes, I am. I promise I'm going to get it to you by this week," he stuttered here and there.
"All of it?" James inquired. If it was, then he'd have to give Violet back, and that was no fun. He was just getting started with her. Perhaps he could make a counteroffer.
"No, just the first payment, but if I do, can I speak to my daughter?" he pleaded, and James chuckled. At least he could have some more fun with Violet.
"That's not part of the agreement, John," he said simply.
"Well, is she okay? Please, I just want to know if she's okay." He was begging like a tramp.
"She's fine, although she certainly needs to learn some respect. I'm sure you didn't teach her any while she was growing up." James was scolded, and John held back the urge to call him a bastard. Anything he does could make this worse for the both of them.
"I'll have Sam and Steve meet you in a secured area for the money. I'll send you the details on Friday, and don't think about getting the police involved," he warned, even though James had nothing to worry about. The police were on his side and wouldn't bat an eyelid, not even for a congressman.
"Okay, understood," John gulped, and James hung up without another word, bored of talking to him. He threw his phone to the side, hearing it bounce on the nearby couch, and the soft pur of Alpine made him reach down and pick him up, stroking him gently and tenderly, the pure white ball of fur curling up in his arm.
His exhaustion was settling in too, and he stood, making his way up to his bedroom for some much-needed sleep.
Notes:
Hey I hope you like it, let me know what you think in the comments
Chapter Text
Violet jumped from the blanket as the door to her small prison slammed open, shaking her from her deep sleep. She hadn’t slept so deeply since she arrived, and the exhaustion must have knocked her out. She glared over as Steve stormed inside, dropping the breakfast tray onto the desk, and glared back at her.
"Breakfast,” he spat, and then left in seconds, slamming the door. Violet groaned, rubbing her tired eyes, and she nearly couldn’t get out of bed, struggling to pull herself awake. All this fighting was making her so tired, and she wondered if she was going to be able to keep it up. Dragging herself from the floor, she grimaced at the bland and cold breakfast. The least they could do was give her it hot. Why torture her with a cold breakfast? James had a secret motive. Her days of living a rich, spoiled life were over. No more butlers bringing hot, steaming breakfasts of pancakes, bacon, eggs, morning coffee, strawberries and yogurt, and orange juice. No more being waited on hand and foot. If she wanted a nice breakfast, she was going to have to earn it.
She chewed the rubbery scrambled eggs and burned toast but forced it down her throat anyway, washing it with the glass of water. She needed whatever strength she could get to keep up her attitude and fight. Slowly, James was beginning to break her, and she came out on top. Slowly, she would bend to his will and submit fully, and when she did, he was going to enjoy it.
He wasn’t going to tolerate this kind of behavior. He wasn’t going to tolerate a brat in front of him. The next few weeks were going to be hard on discipline and rules, and if Violet broke any of these rules, then there would be consequences.
After breakfast, Violet found herself pacing the small room, the walls falling in on her. If she didn't get out of here soon, she was going to go crazy. The constant clink of the chain made her frustrated, and her anger boiled to the top, making her want to unleash it. She wanted to scream and kick the door down, but that would only result in a sore throat and a sore foot.
Violet groaned heavily but whipped around as the door opened again, and she looked over as James stood there this time, a smirk on his lips as he entered inside. He was dressed in an impeccable black suit, his hair brushed back, all except a few little strands, and his cologne was rich and potent. She glared at him with dark eyes, but his body easily towered over her from afar.
“Enjoy breakfast?” He asked, and she scoffed.
“If you can even call that breakfast, it’s not even hot,” she snapped, crossing her arms tightly over her chests, and James gave a sarcastic ‘Aww’ in response.
“What a shame!” he frowned, and Violet stomped forward as if to get up in his face, although she had forgotten how tall he was and that she had to completely stare up at him to even look him in the eyes.
“I want a proper breakfast; this sh*t is making me sick,” she ordered. It wasn’t that the food was bad, but her years of large breakfasts made her feel like she was being starved like a dog, and her demand for a proper breakfast had James tilting his head and setting his lips into a hard line.
“Try that again, this time with please, sir,” he commanded back, and Violet glared up at him. She didn’t want to break; she didn’t want to give in to these commands. Was she that desperate for a decent breakfast that she would bend to his will? James waited; he could wait all day, and Violet sighed, falling to the soles of her feet. She hadn’t realized she was on her tippy toes.
"Please, may I have a proper breakfast, sir?” She asked softly, and he smirked. How easy this was becoming.
“I’ll think about it for now, though we have something else to address,” he said, unlocking her collar from the chain and grabbing her forearm, yanking her out of the room and down the hallway. She stumbled along with his long strides, huffing and puffing as he brought her upstairs. She almost tripped on a step, as he was going too fast.
“Where are we going?” She gritted through her teeth as James opened a sleek brown mahogany door and shoved her inside. The door slammed shut, and Violet turned, gasping softly. The room was darker, with a hint of red to it. A large bed sat on the right-hand side, with beautiful carved bed posts and frames complete with gold rings hanging off every post. To the side was a long couch, red leather with polished dark wood. The floor itself was dark and hard and polished to perfection, with dim lights bouncing off. Along the walls were lengths of rope, chains, and leather dangling in all sorts of lengths and fashions. Beside that, an entire wall of erotic whips, canes, riding crops, floggers, paddles, straps, and belts hung on small hooks, each one deadly and intimidating. A dark chest of drawers was pressed against one of the walls, and a separate door leading to a walk-in closet was on the other side.
“What the fuck is this?” She turned, and James strode up to her, smacking a hand across her cheek. Her cheek burned, and Violet gasped, lifting a shaky hand up to press where he hit her.
“Do not speak to me with that tone or language,” for once Violet didn’t reply with a comeback or sass in her voice. She blinked and slowly looked up, speechless and with wide eyes. As James stared down at her, his face settled into nothing but glassy eyes.
“I think it’s time you were taught a lesson in respect. If you want your time here to be comfortable and easy, you will do what I say. I will not have a brat in my presence, and if you think I will bend over backwards to your attitude, then you are wrong.” He had taken a step forward, so his chest was almost touching hers, and Violet craned her neck backwards as he leaned closer, complete control in his grasp. She was stunned, too stunned to speak, and all she did was swallow, nodding slowly. James grinned. She was starting to submit and realized she had no power in this exchange.
This was why he brought her here—to teach her some discipline and manners.
“Good, now take off your clothes,” he said, brushing past her to fetch some things from the wall. Violet stared forward for a moment before shaking herself back to reality. His command, tone, and swiftness to discipline her had cast her under a spell of submission and conformity. She had nodded and listened, and all her fight had been shone away. But not for long. The very order of him wanting her naked had been enough for her to come back and realize where she was and who she was.
She turned and watched him as he took several items from the wall. A long, thin, pale stick, a set of cuffs, and a chain. As he turned back, he saw she hadn’t moved and hadn’t done as he had asked. Throwing the cuffs and chain on the bed, the long stick was held through his long fingers, and he dangled it beside his leg as he padded it over to her.
“I said take your clothes off,” he ordered again, his voice growing sterner and a hint of frustration in there. Violet took a step toward him and pressed herself close to his chest, raising her head and smiling a devilish smile.
"No,” she answered back with a sweet voice, and James took a deep breath through his nose, his eyes looming over her. In a matter of seconds, he clutched her wrist in his hand, bending her arm behind her back and twisting her so her body knelt to the ground, an agonizing cry emulating from Violet. She struggled and squirmed under his hold, but he was far too powerful for her to get out. The pain in her wrist was excruciating, as if he were about to snap it in half, and she whimpered. James stared down with no emotion on his face and, ever so slightly, twisted even more to the point where she arched her back.
“This is exactly what we are going to be disciplining out of you, that smart mouth. The first thing you need to learn, Violet, is that when I give you an order, you will obey me, or there will be consequences and punishment. If I were you, I would do as you told me, because I certainly wouldn’t like to be on the receiving end of any of this.” He spoke to her as if she were a child, and she groaned as he tugged her wrist ever so slightly back, forcing her to look up at him.
“Do I make myself clear?” He raised a brow, and she groaned, forcing herself not to answer. But the pain was too much, and she huffed.
"Yes,” she squeaked.
“Yes what?”.
“Yes Sir” James chuckled and released her.
“Good girl, now clothes off,” he released her, and she fell to the floor, panting and wincing as her wrist hurt with every movement now. Violet looked up at James, heavy breaths escaping her as he waited for her to obey, and she sucked a hard one before slowly peeling the clothes off her body. The room was hot, but her body shivered as she fell naked, her body shivering from the loss of her clothes, her nipples perking up as her breasts fell out of the t-shirt she was wearing. She stood awkwardly in the middle of the erotic room, unsure where to place her hands as James smiled, slowly walking closer to her and circling her as if he were inspecting.
She had a beautiful body, one he was going to enjoy shaping to his every command, and James came to stand in front of her, grabbing the leather cuffs from the bed. He wrapped them around her wrists, pulling them tight and easily buckling them. Last but not least, he attached the chain to her collar and, with a firm hand, shoved her to her knees on the floor, where she yelled. James began to circle her.
“I have had enough of your smart mouth, constantly trying to rebel and give me attitude. I don’t think anyone has ever taught you some manners,” he teased, and Violet growled. That wasn’t true at all. She knew how to say please and thank you; it was only this asshole she didn’t want to say them to.
"Well, maybe if—“ She was cut off instantly by a swift strike of his cane, snapping against her skin and slicing through the air, leaving a long red strip across her backside. She hissed and gritted her teeth, trying to keep her composure.
“You do not speak unless I give you permission to speak. From now on, the only words I want you to hear from your mouth are Yes, sir,” he ordered, and she took a breath.
"Yes, sir,” she answered, and he smirked.
“Good. Like I said, if you want your time here to be comfortable, you are going to have to work on not being such a smart little brat and show me some respect.” He came to stand in front of her, and with the end of his cane, he tapped the toe of his polished leather shoe.
“Lips here” His order was simple, and Violet looked up in shock. Did he seriously expect her to kiss his shoe? He raised a single brow, and Violet sighed, slowly leaning down to press her lips to the toe of his shoe.
“Good girl, kiss my shoe. Show me your respect,” he ordered, and with a blush on her cheeks, she began to kiss the leather. It was strong and lingered on her lips—the tangy taste. With the end of his cane, he moved her mane of hair away to get a good look at the sight of her submitting to him.
This was humiliating and went against all the fight she had mustered up. Never in a million years would anyone see Violet Williams submitting to anyone and kissing the shoe of the most notorious mobster in New York City. She was one of the richest girls in the city, with hundreds of friends and contacts and a fiery attitude. But not anymore. As she kissed his shoe, James ran the cane along her back, pulling it up and smacking it across her pale skin, and she hissed, lurching forward. She hadn’t experienced pain like this before.
“For each time you’ve mouthed off at me, you’ll get a strike, and I’ve been counting,” he informed her, running the cane further down to her ass and smacking her there.
"Ahhh!” she screamed, beginning to rise up from his shoe, but he shoved her back down. Another strike came on the backs of her thighs and on the soles of her feet, which made her squeal into his foot before resuming her respectful kissing. James worked the cane over his skin, tender welts being brought to the surface.
“See, that’s better. You’re actually listening and doing as you were told. Perhaps you deserve a reward,” he teased, although he wasn’t going to grant her one.
“Now say thank you, sir, for correcting me on my smart mouth.” Violet groaned under her breath and mustered up the courage to speak those words.
“Thank you, sir, for correcting me on my smart mouth,” she managed to say without the grit in her voice, and James smirked.
“Good girl,” he praised, and a sudden tingle went through her body. Why did those words make her relax? Violet settled further into the floor, pressing a final kiss to his shoe until his hand came and pulled the chain up, bringing her to her knees.
“See how much better that is when you're not a brat,” he teased as he crouched before her, running the cane down her thin stomach and smacking it across, a sharp red welt burning into her skin. She groaned with her lips held tightly together and let out a long breath through puckered lips.
“Yes Sir”
James grinned and stood, his hand reaching into her hair and pulling her to his leg, patting her and caressing her cheek. His leg was warm and soft to the touch on her cheek, the one he had slapped.
“Let this be a reminder to you that if you smart mouth me again, then I will punish you much harder than this,” he warned her, and Violet gasped, looking up with wide eyes. Her mouth dropped open. The cane could be so excruciating, and yet he had used it lightly on her, and she thought that was the worst. His warning was true, and she gulped.
"Yes, sir,” she responded, and James grinned.
“Good girl”.
Notes:
Hey, sorry for not updating in a while, I think I was feeling a bit burned out but I'm back now, let me know in the comments what you think
el1181 on Chapter 1 Tue 23 Jan 2024 06:02AM UTC
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WhatDreamsAre on Chapter 1 Sun 04 Feb 2024 04:24PM UTC
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mark12 on Chapter 2 Wed 24 Jan 2024 11:23PM UTC
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el1181 on Chapter 2 Fri 26 Jan 2024 03:28AM UTC
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Maren (Guest) on Chapter 3 Fri 02 Feb 2024 08:45PM UTC
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el1181 on Chapter 3 Sat 03 Feb 2024 04:00AM UTC
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el1181 on Chapter 4 Mon 05 Feb 2024 11:58PM UTC
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filiocht on Chapter 5 Mon 12 Feb 2024 12:19AM UTC
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filiocht on Chapter 6 Tue 13 Feb 2024 03:22AM UTC
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filiocht on Chapter 7 Sun 18 Feb 2024 12:27AM UTC
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Raisincookies on Chapter 7 Sun 18 Feb 2024 11:22AM UTC
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el1181 on Chapter 8 Sun 25 Feb 2024 02:12AM UTC
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98wwlo9p (Guest) on Chapter 8 Mon 04 Mar 2024 12:24PM UTC
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el1181 on Chapter 9 Sun 17 Mar 2024 01:08AM UTC
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MsMermaid on Chapter 9 Tue 02 Apr 2024 11:26PM UTC
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