Woman In Chains (29 page)

Dak marched by her to a switch outside of the cell and activated the hoist. The whirring sound offered a welcome break in the uncomfortable silence. Rebekah peered up and saw the bar about two feet above her head.

No charades this time. Dak grabbed Rebekah’s hand, a motion that made her gasp. His touch, though harsh, calmed her. She hadn’t touched him since they had sex. Rebekah found that her body craved his hold, his control. She even turned her face toward his as he secured her wrist to the overhead bar, this time without panic clips.

Without looking at her, Dak moved over to her second hand once he had the first one secured. With both wrists cuffed, he raised the bar so that if Rebekah stretched her legs far enough, her toes could touch the ground. 

Not being grounded, unable to run, accelerated Rebekah’s pulse. She squeezed her hands into fists, stretching the leather that covered the fleece-lined cuffs that kept her trapped. She swung slightly and jingled the chains holding her aloft.

Dak walked out of the room and crouched down to the floor. Behind the chair he normally occupied hid a long, black, steel bar with C-shaped crescents at either ends. He returned to her cell and dropped down to her feet. As fast as he bound her wrists, Dak made short work of her ankles, spreading her feet far apart and clamping her ankles in the torture device.

With her arms and legs spread out, Rebekah felt exposed. She had nowhere to run or hide. Aside from the spreader bar between her legs, Dak hadn’t done anything to her that he hadn’t done before...except not talk to her. Each time he averted his gaze, her heart beat a little slower.

Dak marched past her to her bed again. With the bar between her ankles, Rebekah couldn’t swing herself around that easily to see what Dak retrieved. Without warning, she felt the heat from his body at her back. Then his hands came over her head along with a black scarf.

Just like before, Rebekah jerked her head back to avoid being blindfolded. With Dak’s new angry attitude, she didn’t know what he wanted to do to her.

Dak secured the scarf around her closed eyes. He tightened the cloth around her head. Rebekah didn’t know if he wanted to make sure she couldn’t see or if he wanted to hurt her. If he knew that by not talking to her damaged her more than anything, he would forgo the scarf.

Rebekah’s heart pounded in her head.

You’re tougher than this. You’re tougher than this.

After a beat, Rebekah felt something long and heavy draped over her shoulders. Had Dak just put a snake around her neck? Rebekah shuddered and tried twisting her body as much as she could to drop whatever he’d put on her.

Dak must have moved in front of her. She felt him picking up the ends of the item and crossing it over her chest before taking them behind her body. At that moment, she figured out that he must have put a rope around her. The rough, braided material rubbed against her skin. She imagined the redness that would form because of it.

Rebekah’s nerves ramped up for a different reason. Dak had her chained up with her being dependent on him for her freedom. Right now he had her where he wanted her. Had this been her lesson? She tried controlling him so now he would control her?

In the silence of the room, Dak wrapped the rope around her waist and in between her breasts. He never stopped moving, although he did slow down once he got to her breasts. There he wrapped the ropes around each tit, binding them to an uncomfortable level. As a child, Rebekah would take a piece of string or rubberband and wrap her fingertip until it turned a dark crimson. She envisioned her breasts looking the same way, red and discolored.

Rebekah held her breath as he worked. When she did, she noticed Dak had stopped moving. The break allowed her to exhale and get used to the feeling of having her breasts bound. After taking a needed breath, Dak continued working.

He managed to twirl the rope around each of her breasts, squeezing them until the rope pinched all around her tit. She breathed through the discomfort. Opening her hands and concentrating on something pleasant allowed her to sink into the pain.

Just as Rebekah had gotten used to the bindings, she heard something squeaking before she felt a pinch on her distended nipple.

“Oh, God!” Rebekah leaned her head back and absorbed whatever Dak dished out.

Before she could settle into that sensation, Dak clamped another pinching item on her other nipple. If he expected her to cry or quit, he come across the wrong woman, the wrong submissive. She wouldn’t quit. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t break.

Rebekah took in deep breaths through her nose and exhaled out her mouth. As soon as her body settled into the extreme sensation, she felt leather straps smacking against her ass. This time she did scream and tuck in her backside to avoid another hit.

In her mind, Rebekah imagined Dak using his favorite flogger on her. If he did use that special flogger, did that really mean anything to her? Did that mean he cared enough to use something that had meaning to him, or did she want him to care, be different than the other men in her life who had disappointed her?

He continued flogging her, letting the falls strike her cheeks and slide down her legs. The straps tickled her flesh while sending a stinging sensation through her body. The feeling ramped up her need.

Each time he spanked her, he made sure to not hit the same place twice. Rebekah gripped her cuffs. She chewed her lower lip and leaned her head back as she accepted each hit.

The pain. She’d gotten used to living with it in some way. This time she welcomed it like a new friend. Her breathing increased to a pant.

Without seeing Dak, without hearing him, she felt connected to him. He communicated to her without words. The connection revealed his anger.

Dak increased the hardness of each hit the more he stroked his flogger against her skin. She could tell he moved around to her side from the way he spanked her now on her side, down her naked waist and down to her hip. Rebekah trembled as soon as the flogging moved to her stomach and down to her sex.

“Oh, God.” Rebekah didn’t know if Dak wanted her to speak. She couldn’t hold back her feelings.

Besides, if Dak planned on punishing her by restricting her orgasm, she wanted to give him some warning. She didn’t want to get so close to an orgasm just to have him stop. That would be torture.

All the sudden, the flogging stopped. With the blindfold on, Rebekah couldn’t tell what Dak had planned. Was this it?

As soon as she thought that, she felt something light touch her fingertips. The sensation shocked her at first and she splayed her fingers and sucked in her breath. The delicate touch coasted over her arm, sweeping over her skin and leaving a tickling feeling. Rebekah writhed as much as she could in her spot. Dak must have been using a feather on her like he did before.

God, the man knew how to play with her body. He floated the feather over her collarbone and down between her breasts, touching the skin exposed through the ropes. As soon as he circled her constricted tits, Rebekah stopped breathing.

Dak used the tip of the plume to lick her nipple with it. Rebekah trembled. She balled her toes as much as she could. When he moved the feather down her stomach to her vagina, Rebekah twitched her body back until he touched the feather to her hardened clit.

“Yes!” Rebekah turned her face to her arm.

She found it difficult to catch her breath while Dak circled her nub, over and over and over again. He pushed her body to a sensual limit, one that Master Blade had never been able to achieve.

Without warning, Dak stopped playing with her with the feather and smacked her clit with the flogger again.

“Shit! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Repeatedly Dak kept the hits hard, steady, and even. If this man wanted to drive her crazy, he didn’t have far to go. Rebekah’s body shook. A bead of sweat rolled down her back. When her stomach contracted into spasms and her clit throbbed, she felt compelled to say something to Dak.

“I’m going to come.” Knowing Dak, Rebekah knew he wouldn’t want her to come without permission.

Dak didn’t stop the flogging. As a matter of fact, Rebekah felt like he increased his intensity. Rebekah stomped her foot as much as she could in the restrictive device clamped around her ankles. Every muscle in her body tightened. She pressed her face into her arm, trying hard to hold back the orgasm.

Rebekah felt whatever clamped on her nipple twisting. Pain intertwined with pleasure, and it overtook her body.

“Shit!” Rebekah felt her intimate juices running down her inner thighs. “I’m coming!”

With balled fists, Rebekah pulled on her restraints as the climax shook her. She tried pressing her knees together, but with the contraption holding her ankles apart, she couldn’t.

As she came down from the orgasmic high, Rebekah leaned her head back and attempted to catch her breath. It still amazed her how Dak could get her to come without penetration.

Now that she did have an unapproved orgasm, Rebekah braced for the punishment. She felt Dak removing the clamps on her nipples first. Stinging, needle-like sensations attacked her nipples. Now Rebekah wished that Dak would use his feather on them to give her relief. She also wanted him to kiss her, show her some affection.

With the clamps gone, Rebekah felt the ropes he had used to bind her torso now being removed. Was this it? Was he finished playing with her? Was this her punishment?

With the ropes gone, Rebekah attempted to catch her breath. Just as she took in a deep inhalation, she heard a buzzing sound. Then she felt a vibrating device being circled around her nipple. Rebekah curved her back to pull from it at first, then she settled into it.

The vibration continued circling her nipple. The stinging she felt once the clamps had been removed eased away the longer Dak circled her breast. He moved from one nipple to the other. Rebekah almost felt like he moved the vibrator with each of her moans. He probably did. The short time Rebekah had been with Dak, she noticed how he would react to her based on how she would respond.

It didn’t take Dak long to move the vibrator down her body. He nestled the head of it between her thighs, right against her clit. At that position, Rebekah knew he used the wand with the knob at the end of it. He brushed the head of it against her most sensitive spot.

Out of instinct and need, Rebekah thrust her hips back and forth. Since Dak hadn’t stopped her first orgasm or punished her for having one, she felt free to enjoy his treatment. She still wished he would touch her with his large, commanding hands. Maybe that was her punishment: getting pleasure without his direct touch or hearing his voice.

Dak continued moving this vibrator back and forth against her clit with increasing pressure.

“Master Dak. Oh, God, yes!”

As much as she wanted to surpress the second climax, she couldn’t. Her body pushed for more pleasure. Her scream caused her throat to feel scratchy as she came down from her orgasmic high.

Sweat covered her body. She welcomed the cool sheen to keep her body temperature down.

“So good.” Rebekah allowed her body to hang like a rag doll as she tried regaining her composure. “You’re killing me.”

With her words, Rebekah heard another vibrator, lighter sounding this time. She tensed, waiting for the next round of play. Without warning, Dak slid the smooth, slender head of the vibrator between her nether lips before plunging the toy inside of her.

Even though Rebekah had had two amazing orgasms back to back, her body sought the pleasure, became greedy for more. Dak hadn’t given her or her poor sex a break since he started his play.

It hit her at that moment. Dak’s attention had nothing to do with playing with her or giving her satisfaction. Everything about tonight had to do with his punishment. How did making her come constitute as a punishment?

It took Rebekah longer this time to come from Dak using the second vibrator. Hoping for relief, she bowed her head and took a deep breath. When she did that, she felt a paddle against her ass cheek. Dak wouldn’t stop. Neither would Rebekah.

She knew he expected to break her with his treatment. She wouldn’t be broken. He would get exhausted before she would ever give up. She just hoped her body agreed to those terms.

****

It amazed Dak how fast he reverted back to his old ways. Back in the Navy, he’d faced and fought many enemies. His shipmates used to call him Iceman Ricci for how cold he could be when it came to fighting.

He had been determined not to be that way with Rebekah. After the incident with Walt, he thought he understood her, and that she understood him. She showed she had his back. She displayed something he hadn’t had in a woman—in a relationship, in a submissive—in a long time. Loyalty. Then she tricked him.

If Dak couldn’t come home and feel safe, feel like he could trust the person in his home, his home wouldn’t be his sanctuary anymore. He couldn’t have that. He had to take back control. He just didn’t think he would have to punish her this way.

Thank God he covered her eyes. If she stared at him with her seductive brown eyes, he would have taken her down from the hoist. Maybe he should have anyway. After making her come twice, he thought she would have asked him why he played with her this way, why he continued to push her body. She took the treatment. With her head dropped back and her body covered in sweat, Dak knew she couldn’t take much more.

Dak worked on Rebekah’s body for nearly two hours, alternating between paddling, caning, and flogging her, to using a vibrator to give her the sex she must have wanted. He gritted his teeth as he thought about her betrayal.

Didn’t she know that being with him meant trouble? He hadn’t been good for his last submissive. What made her think that he could be her Dom and her lover? Hell, even Dak let the idea cross his mind. Each time he looked at Rebekah, he envisioned their lives together, a dangerous prospect. Dak would eventually hurt her.

He took off his shirt when he couldn’t take the heat. As he drew his hand back to cane her completely red ass, he stopped. Dak couldn’t stop staring at the woman who had changed his solitary world.