Chapter 1
You know, people think having money would make your life SO simple. Yeah, it makes some things easier, but some things it makes hella complicated.
I stared at all the bitches jogging in the park. They were mostly broke nothing whores with no life plan, no real ambitions, and wanting nothing more than men to give them everything because they had an ass and tits. They pissed me off.
It had been three years ago. I'd been a young business major in college. My friends and I were getting back from a road trip during spring break and had, as a joke, bought powerball lottery tickets. Paid the 'poor tax'. Nobody really ever won those. It had been two weeks before the drawing had happened. Then the craziest thing happened.
I won. Steven Lewis, the nobody, had won.
20 years old and I now had $650 million dollars. Okay, so a lot less once taxes came out, but still more money than I needed to last the rest of my life if I played it smart. And since it was coming up one of my professors had even done a class on "what to do if you win the lottery".. So I did exactly what he said to do. I got a lawyer, claimed the winnings anonymously, got the taxes taken care of and invested intelligently.
My friends hadn't bothered to learn my lottery numbers, so they didn't know. I didn't tell my family. No one had a clue. I pretended to go to college, and the fact that my graduating class didn't get a graduation ceremony because of the fucking pandemic.
I bought a reasonable house, (fuck the housing prices) just big enough for a wife an a few kids. I figured any woman would be all over me for my money, but I didn't want a freaking gold-digger. So I pretended to be an accountant, keeping who I work for as discreet as possible.
Turns out, being stingy with details about your employment made all the hotty bitches assume you were a dead beat. Didn't matter that I had a gym membership and all the time to work out and was in peak health. Didn't matter that I had a nice care. Didn't even matter that I had a nice seven inch dick with a nice girth that none of the girls I had been with had anything but good things to say about. I even loved eating pussy and making my girl cum so hard she screamed.
Nope, these fucking bitches didn't care. Three years and I hadn't had a date in two of them and the last date I'd had all I had been to her was a meal ticket. She'd even brought a fucking friend to eat on my dime.
I'd been fucked over one to many times. And while I considered myself a reasonable man, I started to understand where the crazies came from. I started making plans. I found out exactly how much remodeling I could do without a permit and put my plan into effect. I broke my remodeling of my basement into four sections, using a different handyman each time. I claimed I was making a man cave. I even filed it with computers, TVs, game stations and fully decked it out. I did give each of the contractors a Nondisclosure agreement and they had agreed to keep my man-cave secret. I'd claimed I had great reviews for each of them, and paid through the nose to get out of town contractors and people that would be basically impossible to find.
Finally it was done. Then I started rearranging things and preparing and the golden sign from on high came. The last handyman got hit by a drunk driver. His wife would be taken care of by his life insurance and the sizable payment I gave him would hold her over. One of them moved to Europe. One suffered a cardiac incident and passed away. The final one was retiring and announced he had been diagnosed with early onset dementia, nothing he said would be taken seriously.
Now my man-cave could transform to its true purpose: a sex dungeon.
Yep. I found myself deciding that until I found a woman willing to give me a chance, I'd take the fucking choice away from the fucking bitches. I even had a particular bitch in my sights.
Her name was Karen. Karen Johnson. And damn did she live up to the Karen stereotype. She was a certified grade-A bitch. Snapped at everyone. Rude, demanding, and loved exploiting poor guys who wanted a chance because the one thing she had was looks. She had flawless breasts, a perfect ass, amazing skin, full luscious lips designed to wrap around a cock. And she was one of the fucking feminists that didn't care about actual equality, nope, to her feminism was just a tool to oppress men and get what she wanted. She was twenty-two, just graduating from college and had coasted on the privilege of her gender all her life.
It had taken me months to line everything up. I had learned her schedule, which had been far too easy, and when she was graduating and when her new job started. It was perfect. She was planning a two month long road-trip after graduation until her new apartment opened up. That was when I'd do it. She'd be mine and no one would question her absence since she was going to be "on a road trip". I'd have two months to have my way with her.
Now, I wasn't a killer. I'd release her when I was done, but fuck, she was to me the epitome of everything wrong with women today and I was going to break her.
That's why I was here today. I had everything set up. I'd even sabotaged her dinner reservation to make sure she came for her evening run later than normal. She'd wanted to have a last dinner at her favorite restaurant before she left, but she religiously ran each night. I'd even managed to sabotage another of her evenings to make sure she'd still do her run through the park.
There she was. Pulling in as the last car pulled out. From my position on this unlit bench I could see her walk into the park under the light at the entrance. She put in her earbuds, tightened her shoes and started to jog.
I got in position. It was a mile long loop around the outskirts of the park. I hid in the trees near the end of the path, where the only thing in earshot would be closed businesses and empty parking lots. I waited to hear her jogging footsteps in the dark. Then just when she passed I made my move.
I leapt out and grabbed her around the waist with one hand and put the damp rag in my other hand over her mouth to muffle the scream. She tried to kick me off but I got a hold of both of her wrists and had her arms ensnared. Her legs flailed as she tried to kick her way free. She kept screaming into the rag not realizing that the smell she was inhaling as she screamed was chloroform.
I'd done my research. I knew it would take minutes for a person to succumb. That was precisely why I'd chosen to do this the way I had. She was exhausted from her run, and blind in the dark between streetlights. She was breathing hard from her run and harder to try to scream. A minute felt like a long time, but her struggles got weaker and weaker, then she finally flopped.
I immediately took the rag from her face. Based on the amount of screaming she'd done, she'd be out. I had no fear of that. All I had to be careful of now was getting everything done before she woke up. I put her arms behind her back and put padded sex handcuffs, the rare ones without an easy release on her hands and linked ankle cuffs on her legs. I estimated I had five minutes to spare in the window I had prepared.
I pulled her phone from her arm strap and used her thumb to unlock it.