Chapter Twenty: TheBetrayal
Leena woke to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows.
For a moment, she didn't remember where she was. Then it all came rushing back—the text, the voicemail to Jack, the collar, the complete and utter surrender.
She was in Rider's bed.
Between Rider and Hela, both still asleep.
The collar was still around her neck. She reached up to touch it, feeling the leather against her skin, the small metal buckle at the back.
This is real. This happened.
Her body ached. Every muscle felt used, stretched, exhausted. There were marks on her thighs—fingerprints, bite marks. Evidence of what she'd done.
What she'd become.
She should feel horrified. Should be scrambling out of bed, tearing off the collar, running back to her house and begging Jack for forgiveness.
But she didn't move.
Because the truth was, she didn't want to leave.
Last night, she'd felt more alive than she had in years. More herself. The surrender had been terrifying, but it had also been liberating. She'd stopped fighting. Stopped pretending to be someone she wasn't.
And in that surrender, she'd found a twisted kind of peace.
Rider stirred beside her, his hand sliding across her hip possessively. Leena closed her eyes, feeling the weight of his touch, the claim it represented.
I'm his now.
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An hour later, Leena sat at the kitchen island wrapped in one of Rider's shirts, drinking coffee.
Hela was making breakfast—eggs, bacon, toast. She moved around the kitchen with easy familiarity, humming softly to herself.
"Sleep well?" Hela asked, glancing over her shoulder with a knowing smile.
"Yes," Leena said quietly.
"Good. You were exhausted by the end." Hela plated the eggs and brought them over. "Eat. You'll need your strength."
"For what?"
"You'll see."
Rider appeared in the doorway, freshly showered, wearing only a towel around his waist. His eyes found Leena immediately, and she felt her body respond—a flush of heat, a tightening low in her belly.
He smiled. "Good morning, pet."
The word sent a shiver through her. Pet.
"Good morning," she whispered.
Rider crossed to her, his hand sliding into her hair, tilting her face up. He kissed her—slow, possessive, claiming. When he pulled back, his thumb traced her lower lip.
"We have something to do today," he said.
"What?"
"You'll see." He released her and moved to pour himself coffee. "Finish your breakfast. Then shower. I want you clean and ready in an hour."
Leena nodded, her heart already starting to race.
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When she emerged from the shower, Rider was waiting in the bedroom.
He'd set up a tripod.
Leena stopped in the doorway, the towel clutched around her body, staring at the camera mounted on the stand facing the bed.
"What's that for?" she asked, though she already knew.
"We're making a video," Rider said simply. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed now, watching her with that calm, assessing gaze.
Leena's stomach twisted. "A video."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I want a record of what you are now. Of who you belong to." He stood and crossed to her, his fingers finding the edge of the towel. "Drop it."
Leena hesitated for only a moment. Then she let the towel fall.
Rider's eyes traveled over her body slowly, appreciatively. "Beautiful. Now come here."
She walked to him on shaking legs.
He reached up and adjusted the collar around her neck, making sure it was visible, centered. "Perfect. Get on the bed. On your back."
Leena climbed onto the bed, her heart pounding. The camera's red light blinked on, and she felt exposed in a way she hadn't even during the orgy. This was different. This was permanent.
This was evidence.
Rider began undressing, his movements unhurried. "Do you know why we're doing this, Leena?"
"No," she whispered.
"Because you need to understand what it means to be mine. What it costs." He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between her legs. "Last night, you surrendered your body. Today, you're going to surrender everything else."
His hand slid between her thighs, finding her already wet despite her fear.
"You're so ready for me," he murmured. "Even knowing what's coming. Even knowing I'm going to make you do things that terrify you."
"Rider—"
"Shh." He pushed two fingers inside her, and Leena gasped. "Just feel. Just accept."
He worked her slowly, methodically, building her arousal until she was trembling. Then he withdrew his hand and positioned himself at her entrance.
"Look at the camera," he commanded.
Leena turned her head, staring directly into the lens.
"Good girl. Now tell the camera who you belong to."
"I belong to you," Leena whispered.
"Louder."
"I belong to you."
Rider pushed inside her in one smooth thrust, and Leena cried out.
"That's right," he said, his voice rough. "You're mine. Say it again."
"I'm yours."
He began to move, slow and deep, his hands gripping her hips. "Tell the camera about Jack."
Leena's breath caught. "What?"
"Tell the camera about your husband. About how he was never enough for you."
"Rider, I can't—"
"You can." His hand moved to her throat, not squeezing, just resting there—a reminder of his control. "You will. Because you're mine now, and I'm telling you to."
Leena closed her eyes, shame flooding through her.
"Eyes open. Look at the camera."
She forced her eyes open, staring into the lens as Rider fucked her.
"Say it," he commanded. "Say Jack was never enough."
The words stuck in her throat. This was different from everything else. This was active betrayal. Active cruelty.
But Rider's hand tightened slightly on her throat, and his other hand found her clit, circling it with maddening precision.
"Say it, Leena. Or I stop."
She was so close. Her body was on fire, desperate for release.
"Jack was never enough," she whispered.
"Louder."
"Jack was never enough for me." The words came out stronger now, and with them came a wave of shame so intense she wanted to die.
"Good girl. Keep going. Tell the camera what you really think of him."
Rider's fingers worked her clit faster, his cock driving deeper, and Leena felt herself fragmenting.
"I—I'm ashamed I married him," she gasped. "He was weak. Passive. He never made me feel like this."
"Like what?"
"Alive. Wanted. Owned."
"That's right." Rider's voice was thick with satisfaction. "You were wasted on him. But you're not wasted anymore, are you?"
"No."
"No, what?"
"No, Master."
The word slipped out before she could stop it, and Rider groaned, his thrusts becoming harder.
"Fuck, yes. Say it again."
"No, Master. I'm not wasted anymore."
"Because you're mine."
"Because I'm yours."
Leena was sobbing now, the pleasure and shame mixing until she couldn't tell them apart. She was saying terrible things, destroying whatever was left of her marriage, and she couldn't stop.
Didn't want to stop.
Because Rider was right. She was his. And this was what belonging meant.
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Rider slowed his movements, his breathing heavy. "Now we're going to talk about the divorce."
Leena's eyes widened. "What?"
"You and Jack had an agreement, didn't you? Split everything evenly."
"Yes," she whispered.
"That's not going to work for me." Rider pulled out and flipped her over onto her stomach, pulling her hips up so she was on her knees, face pressed into the pillow. He entered her again from behind, one hand tangling in her hair, forcing her head up so the camera could see her face.
"I want you to take everything," he said.
"What?"
"Everything. The house. The savings. The retirement accounts. All of it."
"Rider, I can't—"
"You can. And you will." His hand tightened in her hair. "You're going to use this video as leverage. You're going to tell Jack that if he doesn't give you everything, you'll send this to his family. His friends. His coworkers. Everyone."
Leena's blood ran cold. "No. No, I can't do that."
"Yes, you can."
"That would destroy him!"
"So?" Rider's voice was calm, almost bored. "He's nothing to you now. You said it yourself—he was never enough. Why should you care if he's destroyed?"
"Because—" Leena's voice broke. "Because he's still a person. Because I loved him once."
"Once. Past tense." Rider's thrusts became harder, more punishing. "You don't love him anymore. You love this. You love being owned. You love being used."
"That's not—"
"Isn't it?" His hand slid around to her clit again, and Leena whimpered. "Your body doesn't lie, Leena. You're dripping. You're clenching around me. You love every second of this."
"Please," she gasped. "Don't make me do this."
"I'm not making you do anything. You're choosing this. You chose it the moment you put on that collar." His fingers worked her clit in tight circles, bringing her right to the edge. "You're mine. And this is what I want. So you're going to do it."
"I can't."
"You can." He leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear. "Because if you don't, I'll send this video to Jack anyway. And then you'll have destroyed him for nothing. At least this way, you get something out of it."
Leena's mind reeled. She was trapped. Completely, utterly trapped.
"Think about it," Rider continued, his voice almost gentle now. "You're going to need money. You're going to need security. Jack's assets will give you that. Will give us that."
"Us?"
"You're mine now, remember? What's yours is mine." His fingers pressed harder against her clit, and Leena cried out. "Come on, pet. Say yes. Say you'll do it. And then I'll let you come."
Leena was shaking, tears streaming down her face. Every part of her screamed that this was wrong. That she couldn't do this to Jack. That there had to be another way.
But Rider's fingers were relentless, and her body was betraying her, desperate for release.
And the worst part was, he was right.
She had chosen this. She'd put on the collar. She'd said yes. She'd surrendered everything.
This was just the price.
"Say it," Rider commanded. "Look at the camera and say you'll do it."
Leena turned her head, staring into the lens through her tears.
"I'll do it," she whispered.
"Louder."
"I'll do it. I'll take everything from Jack. I'll use this video to make him give me everything."
"Good girl." Rider's fingers moved faster, and Leena felt herself shattering. "Now come for me. Come while you accept what you are."
The orgasm hit her like a freight train, violent and overwhelming. She screamed into the pillow, her body convulsing, her mind going blank.
When she came back to herself, Rider was still inside her, still moving, chasing his own release.
"That's my good little pet," he murmured. "My perfect little weapon."
He came with a groan, his hands gripping her hips hard enough to bruise.
Then he pulled out and stood, leaving Leena collapsed on the bed, trembling and sobbing.
She heard him walk to the camera, heard the click as he stopped the recording.
"Perfect," he said. "That was perfect."
Leena lay there, unable to move, unable to think.
She'd done it. She'd agreed to destroy Jack. To take everything from him. To weaponize her sexuality in the cruelest way possible.
And she'd done it on camera.
There was no taking it back now. No pretending it hadn't happened.
She was Rider's weapon. His instrument. His tool to use however he wanted.
And the worst part—the part that made her want to die—was that some small, twisted part of her had enjoyed it.
Had enjoyed the power. The control. The feeling of being so completely owned that she didn't have to make her own choices anymore.
Rider returned to the bed, his hand stroking her hair gently. "You did so well, pet. I'm proud of you."
Leena didn't respond. Couldn't respond.
"Rest now," he said. "You've earned it. Tomorrow, we'll start planning how to approach Jack. How to make sure he gives you everything without a fight."
He kissed her forehead, then left the room.
Leena lay there in the silence, the collar still around her neck, Rider's cum leaking out of her.
She'd crossed another line. A line she'd thought she'd never cross.
She wasn't just a woman who'd surrendered to her desires anymore.
She was a weapon. A destroyer.
And there was no going back.
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Hours later, Leena stood in the shower, scrubbing her skin until it was raw.
But no amount of water could wash away what she'd done.
What she'd agreed to do.
She thought about Jack. About the look on his face when she'd told him she was leaving. About the pain in his voice when he'd asked if she loved Rider.
She thought about the life they'd built together. The house they'd bought. The dreams they'd shared.
And she thought about how she was going to destroy all of it.
For what? For Rider? For this twisted sense of belonging?
Yes, a voice whispered in her mind. Because this is who you are now. This is what you chose.
Leena turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.
The collar was still around her neck.
She reached up to touch it, feeling the leather, the buckle.
She could take it off. Could walk out of this house right now. But she didn't.
Because Rider was right.
She'd made her choice.
And now she had to live with it.
And she'd never felt more free.