Woman In Chains (17 page)

She stripped off her pants first. In a slow, easy motion, she tugged on the sides. Once the garment piled around her feet, she stepped out of it. He watched her take a deep breath before pulling her shirt over her head.

In the full light, Dak scanned her body. Beyond just her full, rounded breasts with their chocolate brown nipples and her pussy with tufts of curly hair, he noticed so much more about her.

Even with her wide shoulders, Rebekah kept them curved down. Submissive or not, she should always stand tall with her head held high. A submissive should be proud to serve and exude that to anyone observing. If Rebekah had been his full-time submissive, he wouldn’t have accepted anything less.

The swell of her voluptuous hips should have been enough to ensnare anyone’s attention. She kept her stance squared off like she mimicked a pillar.

He had seen her looking sultry before, like when she’d grabbed him and kissed him in front of Walton. The ghost of her still lingered. At odd moments, Dak could still feel her full body pressing against him. Her musky aroma permeated his nose and remained there, torturing him. That damn kiss changed everything. This woman had to recognize her power.

“Hands up.” Dak pulled down the wrist straps connected to the vertical bar.

For that request, Rebekah didn’t hesitate. She raised her arms with her back to him. In that position, Dak admired her plump backside. He licked his lips.

“Do you know how to operate the panic releases? Do you remember how they work when Mouse and I showed you?” Dak bound her wrists into the restraints, purposefully placing her fingers on the clips.

“Yes, Sir. I know how they work.”

He didn’t know what prompted her, but she activated a clip on one hand. Maintaining control of her and the situation, Dak immediately held her free hand and brought it back up to the bar where he secured her again.

Trying not the scare her, he didn’t scold her for freeing her hand. If she felt afraid or unsafe, she had to know she could escape the situation.

Dak walked to the control panel again and raised the bar just enough so that Rebekah’s feet barely touched the floor. As though she ran on a cloud, she waved her feet back and forth in small motions.

After checking Rebekah’s comfort level, Dak retrieved a bag he had left outside of Rebekah’s cell. In a dramatic move, he plopped the bag on the short nightstand. He unzipped it and parted the flaps to scan the contents. Although his whips, floggers, and paddles sat on top, Dak dug deep into the bag and pulled out a long, red feather.

When he faced Rebekah, he watched her blink hard as she volleyed her gaze from Dak to the feather that he held.

“Your safe word is ‘red,’ understand?” Dak stayed silent and immobile until Rebekah nodded her head. “Unacceptable, Rebekah. As a Dom, I want to hear what you have to say. Yes or no, do you understand?”

Rebekah cleared her throat. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Dak might be a hard-ass, but he wouldn’t apologize for being particular about how he wanted things done.

“Yes, I understand.” Rebekah adjusted her grips around the foam-padded bar attached to the wrist straps.

“Yes, you understand, what?” How Rebekah addressed Dak matched the importance of the discipline itself.

No matter if she served him or not, or whether she eventually served one Dom or Domme, in a group setting, she would have to address other Doms and Dommes properly. He had to teach her the proper ways of acting within the lifestyle.

Rebekah swallowed hard. “Yes, I understand, Master Dak.” She averted her gaze after her statement.

“Tonight, I’m going to awaken your senses.” Dak held up the feather, but with Rebekah’s attention elsewhere, the display had no impact. “I’m thinking that anyone who was punished by being locked in a drawer would like all of this attention.”

Something he said triggered a fierce response. She brought her attention back to Dak, but the scared expression had vanished. He found fire in her glare.

“Just like you locked me in this cage?” She gripped the links in her wrist restraints so hard that it squeaked under her manipulation.

“There’s a difference.”

“There always is.”

Dak almost laughed at her snappy comeback.

“Master Blade didn’t lock me in a drawer.” When she returned her attention to Dak, she broke her attention long enough to stare at the feather again.

Dak circled her, then settled himself behind her. “You were locked. That’s how I found you when Blade wasn’t home.”

Rebekah gasped, and Dak couldn’t tell if the reaction stemmed from his revelation or from the feather’s first contact to her bare flesh. He brushed the fine red hairs over her arms, then down her back.

During the sensual caressing, Dak didn’t speak. At this time, he just wanted Rebekah to be in the moment, capture the feeling of being wanted and cherished by a Dom. Although he had little expectation that Rebekah would cross over to subspace, Dak would still push her. Pushing her meant pushing himself.

****

Determined not to be swayed, good or bad, by anything Dak did to her, Rebekah ground her teeth and went so far as to squeeze her eyes shut. No matter what he did and how good it felt to have her body worshipped like this, she wouldn’t be convinced that Dak could be some knight in shining armor on a white horse. Damn, the feather stroking felt amazing.

Rebekah could almost feel her nerves rising to the surface of her skin in the hopes of being touched by Dak’s feather. She gripped the handles in her wrist straps as soon as Dak swept the feather down the backs of her legs and over her calves.

Not wanting to, she jerked her legs up and down as soon as he touched her. Her breathing increased to a full-on pant. Her heart did a double-time beat in her chest.

Rebekah leaned her head back to gather herself. BDSM she’d been exposed to didn’t involve feathers and silence. Her experience contained screaming and yelling. Pain and degradation came as a part of the package. Her involvement seemed wrapped in hatred. Dak didn’t hate her enough to give her what she wanted. Maybe what Dak wanted her to see that she didn’t need to be hated to be satisfied. What a novel concept.

She brought her head up and found Dak now standing in front of her. He dusted the feather down the front of her arms.

“No.” Rebekah felt her lips go tight after she declared her refusal of this treatment.

Dak didn’t stop moving the feather. “You know the safe word.”

He crossed the feather over her chest. With only the tip, he circled one nipple, then the other. Her nipples hardened so much that the feeling became painful, but in such a good way. She rubbed her face against her arm to wipe away sweat rolling down her face. As she did this, Dak circled her breasts in an infinity pattern, going over one breast, then under the other, then back over again.

Rebekah’s body reacted more. Even with her legs crossed, her essence dripped onto the plastic that Dak had placed under her. She heard a few drops and tried peering down, but couldn’t. Dak, on the other hand, did not glance down at all. He kept his stare directly on her as he made sure to awaken all of her senses.

“Stop.” 

“If you aren’t going to utter the safe word, don’t say anything negative again, or you will be punished, understand?” In a masterful move, he slid his hand in between her legs and pried them apart. Dak started to brush her body again, but stopped. “I said, do you understand?”

She glared at him. If not answering him showed signs of rejection, then so be it. She wouldn’t utter his safe word. She wouldn’t do anything he wanted.

“Oh, now you’re giving me the silent treatment.” Dak nodded as he went to the bag holding all of his toys.

He pulled out a fur-covered paddle. Just like with the feather, he coasted the soft pelt over her body starting with her arms. He smoothed it down to her neck where he crossed over it and brushed down her sensitive breasts.

“This works better when I have you tied down to a platform.” Dak moved the paddle over her stomach.

The feeling sent a shiver over Rebekah’s body. She twitched as soon as he used the paddle to touch her thighs.

“Do you like this, Rebekah?”

Silence. Dak could do what he wanted with her body, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing what she liked. Even if being treasured turned her on immensely, she wouldn’t let Dak know. He couldn’t have everything.

“Are you going to answer me?” Standing in front of her, he coasted the paddle around her body so that he could stroke her back and her ass cheeks.

The soft caress caught her breath. A moan threatened to escape her mouth right at the time Dak pressed his body against hers, wrapped one arm around her waist, and dropped the paddle to the floor. As soon as she opened her eyes, Dak gave her one solid smack to her ass.

Damn, this man knew how to get to her! With the feather and the paddle, he brought her sensitivity right to the surface of her skin all over her body, just to drive her crazy when a harder touch connected with it.

With his body pressed against the front of her, she had to ball her toes to keep from screaming. It felt as though he had touched a raw nerve. Then, when he spanked her, he set off an explosion in her body.

“Oh, God!” Rebekah struggled to catch her breath.

“Don’t come unless I give you permission.” Dak gave her another solid slap on her other ass cheek as he held her.

The second hit felt twice as intense as the first. This time, she raised one leg and wrapped it around Dak’s. When he gave her the third spank, she put her head next to his, her lips right by his ear.

“Say it, Rebekah. You want to give up and say your safe word?” He spanked her again at another untouched spot on her ass.

Although she had fought against it, she let out a yelp. In an instant, her other leg wrapped around his legs so that she now had him ensnared. In the time she had been with Master Blade, never had a discipline that felt so good.

Dak administered two more hits. By this time, Rebekah felt her stomach compressing in irregular spasms. Her clit throbbed. To ease that ache, she tried rubbing herself against his jean zipper, but she couldn’t really reach it.

“You want to come, Rebekah?” His breath warmed the shell of her ear when he spoke intimately to her.

“Y-y-yes.” Her body trembled.

“So you can speak. Good. Now, let’s try your answer again. Do you want to come, Rebekah?”

The hell with him. She’d called him Master Dak earlier in the session. He should have been satisfied with that.

“Say it.”

With his face next to hers, she felt his jaw flexing.

“No.”

She felt his hand that had previously spanked her now caressing her warmed ass cheeks.

“Are you sure that’s how you want play this? I mean, there are paints involved.” At that statement, he surprised her by squeezing her distended nipple between his fingers as he palmed her ass cheek.

With the combination of an incredibly intense session and the idea of getting more painting supplies, Rebekah couldn’t hold out any longer.

“Thank you, Sir! Thank you, Sir! May I come, please?” She squeezed her legs around him tighter.

He waited for what felt like eternity before he answered her. “Yes.”

With that one word permission, she screamed so loud her throat hurt her. Her body shook until the wave after wave of orgasmic bliss started to dissipate.

Feeling like a limp rag after this short session, Rebekah wondered why she’d never felt this spent with Master Blade, and he had worked her over with whips, paddles, and floggers. Using only a feather, a bunny paddle, and his hand, Dak had managed to get her to come and enjoy a session. In her head, though, she convinced herself that she only came because she wanted the paints.

Dak eased his arm from around her waist, pried her legs from his body, and took a couple of steps back from her. Still with her eyes closed, she heard him walking away from her. Ten seconds later, the overhead bar started to lower. Even with her feet flat on the ground, she still let her body hang on the bar.

He came up from behind her and started undoing one strap. Before he undid the other strap, he held her around her waist as a failsafe.

Freed from the bar, he swept her into his arms and carried her to her bed. Then he retreated to the space outside of the cell. She heard the overhead bar being raised, then the rattling of a plastic bag.

“I’ve set a bottle of blue paint on the stand next to you.”

Rebekah gave a simple head nod as her only response.

“Get some rest. We’ll start over in the morning.” He did something else that surprised her. He covered her naked, spent body, then kissed her forehead before locking her in her cell.

After today’s session, Rebekah had to rethink her strategy. No longer did she want to leave. Now, it would all be about enduring these wonderful sessions and painting. Despite being brought there against her will, she now wanted to stay.

Chapter Eleven

Dak stood in the kitchen, staring at the news story that had been running in heavy rotation all morning. After such an incredible night, such a breakthrough, his world collapsed with this recent story.

“Detroit police have arrested a man who had managed to kidnap four women and keep them in a makeshift prison in his home for nearly fifteen years. Before his capture, the women had been sexually abused and tortured,” the news anchor said with a dour expression. “We must warn the viewing audience. The images you are about to see are graphic.”

The TV screen displayed images of the chains and handcuffs that hung from an interior brick wall. The dark room held not one proper bed. Comforters and sheets had been piled in a couple of spots on the concrete floor.

Dak shook his head. To keep from punching a hole through the small TV screen, he gripped the back of his chair while his gaze remained fixed on the images. The news showed the dilapidated house in the middle of a lower-class suburban neighborhood where these young women had been kept for several years.