{"id":3785,"date":"2013-12-30T18:40:05","date_gmt":"2013-12-30T23:40:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/?page_id=3785"},"modified":"2026-02-23T01:10:10","modified_gmt":"2026-02-23T06:10:10","slug":"adrestia","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/extras\/vignettes-outtakes\/confessions\/adrestia\/","title":{"rendered":"Adrestia"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

FEBRUARY 2011<\/p>\n

New York City<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\u201cHI.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked up at her, and even through his high she could tell he was smart, his intellect strong enough to churn through the chemicals. He probably needed the drugs to dull his mind\u2019s edge and the knowledge that he had no way out of his trap.<\/p>\n

He was filthy, but still handsome underneath it all.<\/p>\n

She ignored the catcalls and whistles around her. They wouldn\u2019t dare touch her, not with a six-foot-six behemoth of a man behind her, his massive black arms folded over his chest, and a couple others behind him.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d<\/p>\n

He knew very well what she wanted. \u201cI want you to fuck me,\u201d she said flatly.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy me,\u201d he returned in a bored tone, flicking his gaze from her expensively coifed hair to her Vera Wang wrap dress all the way down to her Manolos. He was convincing in his query, but she knew how she looked: bored, rich society wife with an irresistible fetish for strung-out boytoys while her husband was away on business and the children asleep at home under the nanny\u2019s care. He would be interested in her money, if not her.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou came with references.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFrom whom?\u201d<\/p>\n

She dropped the name she\u2019d been given, which convinced him she had come looking specifically for him, specifically for this purpose. Wealthy women didn\u2019t go to flop houses to pick up random prostitutes. There were better ways to get more sophisticated\u2014cleaner\u2014men.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut. You have to pull yourself together first. You\u2019re a hot mess.\u201d<\/p>\n

He knew that, and he shrugged.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you\u2019re as good as my friend says you are, I may want to keep you for a while.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou aren\u2019t the prettiest woman I\u2019ve ever fucked,\u201d he observed.<\/p>\n

\u201cPretty enough.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRich enough.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps you shouldn\u2019t insult me before you get paid.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey, you\u2019re the one who hunted me down\u2014\u201d He gestured to their surroundings. \u201c\u2014here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFair enough.\u201d<\/p>\n

He pursed his lips, and she realized that he must have coarsened. His manners were fading in the life of perpetual back alley and glory hole blow jobs, and quick fucks up the ass in leather bars. He probably rarely serviced women anymore, and he\u2019d probably long resigned himself to being the bottom. He was bent, but not broken.<\/p>\n

She intended to remedy that tonight.<\/p>\n

Her bodyguard held out a hand to assist him to his feet, and he took it. He had little pride left.<\/p>\n

Her driver shoved him into the back of the limousine and then assisted her into it. She was careful not to sit beside the man, to keep herself from his filth, and another bodyguard situated himself between her and the whore. He apparently didn\u2019t mind, as he sat and looked out the window as they left Harlem and ended up at the Waldorf.<\/p>\n

Neither of them spoke as they were driven around the back to use the celebrity entrance. The hire slid a glance at her. \u201cDo I know you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAdrestia.\u201d<\/p>\n

He narrowed his eyes. \u201cAre you famous? I could swear I\u2019ve seen you before.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. I\u2019m just ordinary enough to have a lot of doppelg\u00e4ngers.\u201d<\/p>\n

He got the message. She would answer no more such questions.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are your tastes?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLet me put it this way: I\u2019ve been a very bad girl and I need my daddy to punish me.\u201d<\/p>\n

His face slowly transformed from chemical-induced apathy to calculation. \u201cDaddy\u2019s not happy with your behavior, little girl.\u201d<\/p>\n

She whimpered. \u201cI\u2019m sorry, Daddy.\u201d<\/p>\n

Once the driver had escorted both of them to her suite, she indicated the bathroom, and said, \u201cThere are clothes in there for you. My friend guesstimated your sizes. If they don\u2019t fit, I\u2019ll order new.\u201d<\/p>\n

He headed there, eager now. \u201cTake your clothes off, little girl,\u201d he snarled over his shoulder. \u201cBe naked and on your knees when I come out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Daddy,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n

But of course, she wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

He came out of the bathroom an hour later with a towel around his hips, still damp from his shower, his face shaven. He halted in the middle of the room. Looked for her. The lights were dim and there was absolute silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cAdrestia,\u201d he said angrily. \u201cI told you what to do.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I,\u201d she whispered in his ear, startling him, \u201cam not going to do it.\u201d<\/p>\n

He turned with a snarl, his hands out, but then saw the knives she held in her hands. \u201cWhat the fuck?\u201d he whispered, staring in shock at her body. She had stripped down to \u2026 nothing.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis,\u201d she said conversationally, watching his eyes widen at the sharp wavy double-edged blades, \u201cis a kris. It\u2019s a sacrificial knife, a possessor of magic, an instrument of execution. Stick one through the slats of your ribs, into your heart, give it a quarter turn to break your ribs and hook your heart, then take it out of your chest.\u201d He gulped. \u201cThen eat it.\u201d<\/p>\n

He backed away from her, his hands out. \u201cYou crazy fucked-up cunt!\u201d<\/p>\n

She smiled a slow, satisfied smile. \u201cMaybe yes, maybe no. Would you rather I be crazy or a cold-blooded killer?\u201d<\/p>\n

His nostrils flared.<\/p>\n

\u201cI notice your dick doesn\u2019t mind.\u201d<\/p>\n

He looked down at the tent in his towel, as if he hadn\u2019t noticed he\u2019d become erect.<\/p>\n

\u201cSit down in that chair behind you, please.\u201d<\/p>\n

He could do nothing but obey, since it didn\u2019t matter which one she was, just that she meant to kill him. Plastic crinkled under his feet as he went to the straight-backed chair. It was a long walk.<\/p>\n

Before he could move or think, her driver grabbed his wrists from behind and zip-tied them behind the chair back. His reflexes were dulled by whatever drug he\u2019d ingested, and he began to struggle much later than he should have.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow,\u201d she said matter-of-factly, standing in front of him once her driver had finished. \u201cHere\u2019s how it\u2019s going to be. You are going to give me the names and addresses of all the Jep Industries executives who left the country.\u201d<\/p>\n

His mouth dropped open. \u201cThey\u2019ll kill me if I do,\u201d he choked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll kill you if you don\u2019t.\u201d Her knife flashed, and he flinched away, but she nicked him on his cheek, exactly as she\u2019d intended. \u201cOooh, that\u2019ll leave a scar. No more pretty pretty Greg Sitkaris. Just an ugly one. But glory holes and assholes don\u2019t need pretty faces, do they?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not telling you,\u201d he ground out, staring up at her with hatred.<\/p>\n

She reached down and flipped his towel away from his hips. He was still hard as a rock and she wondered how sick and twisted one had to be to be aroused by the thought of imminent death. She\u2019d practiced this whole scenario with her husband, who\u2019d gotten just as aroused, but of course, she wasn\u2019t going to kill him<\/em>. Hurt him a little \u2026 He hadn\u2019t complained.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, okay, then. Let\u2019s talk about your wife and daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n

He sneered. \u201cWhat about \u2019em?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOther than what you did to Jep Industries\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t do anything to J.I.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were the key. But I\u2019m not talking about that anymore. I\u2019m talking about Amelia and Hayleigh.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLike I care?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do.\u201d She flicked two more pieces of skin out of his face before he could blink, and he yelped. Another sliver\u2014out of his dick. He thrashed and howled, but he was bound too tightly. \u201cIn fact, I care about that a lot more than I care about J.I. Those employees got taken care of. Amelia and Hayleigh will have to have years of therapy and probably medication.\u201d<\/p>\n

flick<\/em><\/p>\n

flick<\/em><\/p>\n

flick<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cStop!\u201d he screamed.<\/p>\n

\u201cOooh, does that hurt?\u201d she cooed. \u201cIt\u2019s called tenderizing. Like what you do to a bad cut of meat. Ever heard the phrase, \u2018Death by a thousand tiny cuts\u2019? You know what that means? It means you\u2019ll bleed to death, drop by drop. And in excruciating pain.\u201d<\/p>\n

He wanted to sob. He was trying to control his sobs. But he was panting through his nose, keeping his cheeks puffed so he wouldn\u2019t bawl. Apparently the streets hadn\u2019t humiliated him properly. No wonder he\u2019d been able to hold out so long.<\/p>\n

Or else he had a high threshold of pain.<\/p>\n

She turned and got a spray bottle, shot a stream of the liquid smack in the middle of his bleeding cheek.<\/p>\n

He howled.<\/p>\n

\u201cJalape\u00f1o juice,\u201d she informed him as if he couldn\u2019t smell it.<\/p>\n

His head was down. His chest was heaving.<\/p>\n

Her brows drew together. \u201cAre you really that much of a pussy?\u201d she asked, now completely confused. \u201cDon\u2019t tell me you\u2019ve never gotten your ass kicked on the street.\u201d<\/p>\n

He shook his head frantically, his still-longish hair spraying drops of water.<\/p>\n

Then she understood. \u201cOh, I see. Just raped.\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded, equally frantic.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich you don\u2019t mind so much. Funny. Cassie told me she figured being a bottom would break you.\u201d<\/p>\n

His head snapped up. \u201cCassie St. James?\u201d he snarled.<\/p>\n

She smiled beatifically.<\/p>\n

\u201cI hate that cunt.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTotally understandable. I don\u2019t much care for her myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

He blinked.<\/p>\n

\u201cShoe shopping notwithstanding. However, this isn\u2019t about Cassie. It\u2019s about Amelia, Hayleigh, Jep Industries\u2014in that order.\u201d<\/p>\n

flick<\/em><\/p>\n

flick<\/em><\/p>\n

flick<\/em><\/p>\n

He yowled some more.<\/p>\n

It went on like that for the next two hours, and she was getting a little impatient. No, she truly wasn\u2019t going to kill him\u2014murder wasn\u2019t on her list of Fun Things To Do, even though the murder she\u2019d helped cover up didn\u2019t bother her in the least bit. Still, if he didn\u2019t break soon, he might bleed out, and that would be messy. The plastic on the floor was slippery enough as it was.<\/p>\n

Sitkaris was exhausted and bloody, with slices all over his body, but the most on his formerly lovely face. She sighed and headed into the bathroom to take a shower.<\/p>\n

He looked up at her when she came out and he caught his breath at the sight of her nude body.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook all you want,\u201d she muttered. \u201cI\u2019m taking a nap. You won\u2019t be able to get out of there, so don\u2019t bother trying. I may yet stake you in the heart like the vampire you are.\u201d<\/p>\n

She crawled into one of the beds, secure in the knowledge that her driver-cum-bodyguard-cum-assistant was somewhere in the suite and would make sure Sitkaris couldn\u2019t get to her. She hated being forty. Two. Needing a nap. She should have been able to pull an all-nighter like she did in college.<\/p>\n

Sitkaris was still strapped to the chair when she awoke, but he was lying on his side, half asleep in the blood-crusted plastic, shivering. It was five a.m. She\u2019d had enough.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook,\u201d she said as she stood over him nude, her knife-filled fists propped on her hips. \u201cI want to go home. Here\u2019s what we\u2019re going to do. You give me the whereabouts of your cohorts and agree to testify against them in federal court, and we\u2019ll discuss immunity for your testimony. However, this\u2014\u201d She gritted her teeth and thrust her knife into the meat of his thigh, precisely missing his femoral artery.<\/p>\n

He screamed.<\/p>\n

She twisted it a quarter turn and took out a divot of muscle.<\/p>\n

He screamed some more.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2014is for Amelia and Hayleigh. Now talk.\u201d<\/p>\n

The names and addresses of every executive embezzler of Jep Industries poured out of his mouth and into her recorder.<\/p>\n

She showered again. Scrubbed herself well. Re-dressed in her clothes from the night before, having been carefully protected from any flying blood.<\/p>\n

\u201cLizzie Borden would be very proud of me,\u201d she remarked at Greg, who lay sobbing and panting on the plastic, still duct taped to the chair.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s go,\u201d said her bodyguard suddenly, his fingertips in one ear, listening. He grasped her arm and she scurried ahead of him. They would leave Greg there for housekeeping to find, while the two of them exited the hotel hanging on each other like two still-drunken partiers having affairs on their spouses.<\/p>\n

And she\u2019d paid in cash.<\/p>\n

Very<\/em> well.<\/p>\n

No one would remember them.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, my friend,\u201d Giselle said softly and kissed Sheldon on the cheek as he assisted her up the stairs of the small jet that would take her home\u2014<\/p>\n

He smiled. \u201cI like your style, Miz Kenard.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2014home to her husband, where she could fall in his arms and shatter.<\/p>\n

★<\/p>\n

20260223<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

FEBRUARY 2011 New York City \u201cHI.\u201d He looked up at her, and even through his high she could tell he was smart, his intellect strong enough to churn through the chemicals. He probably needed the drugs to dull his mind\u2019s edge and the knowledge that he had no way out of his trap. He was […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":1599,"menu_order":4322,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-3785","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/3785"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3785"}],"version-history":[{"count":12,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/3785\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":23582,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/3785\/revisions\/23582"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1599"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3785"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}