Woman In Chains

by Bridget Midway

  Rebekah stared at him, then looked at the food on the tray. “I understand.”

  Dak’s eyes widened. He must not have expected that answer. “Good. Before you eat, let’s see you do it.”

  Rebekah strolled back to her bed, then pivoted so she faced him. Instead of lowering herself to the floor, she sat on the bed and put her hands on her lap. “No.”

  The smile faded from Dak’s face. “That’s a shame. Does that also mean you don’t want dinner or dessert?”

  She didn’t answer him. Rebekah swallowed hard and tried looking indignant. Dak picked up the tray of food. Instead of taking it back to the kitchen, he sat in the chair that he used earlier to coddle and care for Mouse, to eat Rebekah’s dinner.

  He crushed some crackers into the soup. So wrong. Dak should have tasted the soup, then bit into the cracker.

  “I don’t know what I need to do to make you trust me, Rebekah.” Dak covered his knee with a paper napkin. “I’ve never hit you.”

  “You spanked me.” Rebekah sat on her hands as she watched him eat a big spoonful of soup.

  “I disciplined you. There is a difference. I’ve given you shelter. I’ve tried to give you food. I don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn about this.” He drank a full mug of a hot drink.

  From the aroma, it smelled like tea. Since it mixed in with the scents of everything else before him, Rebekah couldn’t be sure.

  “Do you like her?” she asked.

  “Who?” Dak picked up the soup bowl and tipped it back into his mouth to finish it off. The man could eat.

  “Mouse. Is she your regular submissive?” Rebekah chewed on the inside of her cheek.

  “She’s a friend of mine. I’ve played with her before. She’s not my submissive.” Dak cut into the steak. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in the Lifestyle, but I was a Dom before.”

  Rebekah decided at that moment that she needed his attention. “Is the reason Mouse isn’t your submissive is because you’re afraid she won’t like you as a Dom?”

  Dak’s hand froze midway between his plate and his mouth just as he started to take the first bite of his steak. “No. I told you. We’re friends. I’m not looking for a submissive. She’s not looking for a Dom.” He chewed the bit of steak from his fork as he glared at her.

  “Did she tell you that she wasn’t looking for a Dom, or did you tell her that you weren’t looking for a submissive because you knew she wouldn’t want you as a Dom?” Rebekah’s heartbeat accelerated. If she knew men, and she did, it wouldn’t take Dak long to fling that tray across the room and come after her.

  “I haven’t owned a submissive in years for a good reason, which I’m not going to go into with you right now.”

  “Have you ever owned a black submissive like me?” She watched his jaw flex like he had a mouth full of gravel. “I would imagine that would freak you out, the whole black and white thing. Or would that give you a sense of power?”

  Dak exhaled through his nose.

  Rebekah knew he had to be gearing up for her punishment. No way could he sit there and take that and not want to string her up and spank her ass again.

  Dak cracked his knuckles before he spoke. “I don’t mind talking to you while I eat your dinner.”

  Rebekah’s stomach growled its protest.

  “But I’m not going to sit here while you’re being insulting.”

  “I wasn’t being insulting.”

  “Yes, you were. You know exactly what you’re doing and what you’re trying to achieve. I’m telling you right now, it won’t work. But since you’re so curious about relationships, let me ask you some questions. Is the reason you were with Master Blade because you don’t think you deserve to be with a Dom or Domme who will treat you right and not try to hurt you or belittle you? Is that it?”

  Rebekah’s eye twitched. The reaction she had hoped to get from him, she adopted herself instead. From her seated position, Rebekah grabbed one of the books on the shelf next to her bed and threw it at the bars, hoping that the slender book would coast through the open bars and hit Dak in the head.

  The book smacked against the cell and fell to the floor.

  “Dante’s Inferno. Good pick. You might like that book.” Dak nodded and continued eating.

  Rebekah had to turn her head away from Dak. For several minutes while Dak ate, the two sat in silence. Glimpses of the scene from earlier that day continued flashing through Rebekah’s head. If she couldn’t get Dak to notice her in one way, she would in another.

  Rebekah returned her gaze to Dak just as he shoveled a bite of the pie in his mouth. Great timing. She stood from the bed and pulled down the baggy sweatpants. When she did, she noticed how Dak stopped chewing, stopped moving, and for all she knew, stopped breathing.

  She kicked the pants to the side, then removed her shirt and tossed it on top of the pants. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she spread her legs apart. One hand caressed her body from her shoulders, down in between her breasts, over her thighs, and then up between her legs where she stopped right at her core.

  Her other hand cupped her breasts. Dak had to appreciate her larger breasts in comparison to Mouse’s small ones. Rebekah couldn’t be blamed for her unkempt pubic hair. Usually about this time, Master Blade would have shaved her.

  Rebekah smoothed her fingers over her nether lips. As much as she hated to admit it, watching Dak top the sub earlier had been hot. Rebekah closed her eyes and rocked her head back when her middle finger plunged inside her hot channel. She gasped and squeezed her breast, but not too hard.

  Master Blade had always grabbed her breasts like footballs. He hadn’t exhibited any tenderness or kindness, not like Dak had with his sub.

  Rebekah moved her finger in and out. She gyrated her hips and imagined herself fucking Dak. It would be a great fantasy. Considering how obstinate she had been, she knew he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with her.

  And yet, here he had created a space for her. He had talked to her like a human being and not like a child or a dog. She plunged her finger in deeper and let out a real cry. The overwhelming feeling would have been ten times better if she could have a man like Dak holding her tit and thrusting deep in her.

  Rebekah moved her finger faster and faster, until an explosive orgasm shook her body. Achieving her first real orgasm in several years made tears stream down her cheeks. Master Blade wouldn’t allow her to masturbate, and in none of his play sessions had she become so aroused that she had to come like Mouse had.

  Rebekah breathed heavily as she brought her head down. When she opened her eyes, she saw Dak standing up while holding the tray of food intended for her. Without a word, he went upstairs to the kitchen.

  Rebekah removed her fingers from her wet vagina and closed her legs. What had started as something to get Dak’s attention quickly became a very real act of her true feelings.

  Dak returned to the room with another tray of food. He sat on the chair and placed the food down on the floor next to him.

  “I’m going to sleep here to make sure you don’t try to escape.” He rested his feet on another small chair across from him. “When you’re ready to bow down to me, your food will be here waiting for you. Until then, good night.”

  Rebekah stormed to the bathroom. If the room had had a door, she would have slammed it. Bastard. Didn’t anything turn this guy on? She had to get out of this place. No matter how sweet and kind Dak had been to her, Rebekah had no business here.

  ****

  Rebekah waited to hear Dak’s heavy, even breathing before approaching the bars. Lying on the floor, she reached her hand through the cell bars to try to reach the tray. Even pushing her feet back on the carpet and allowing the steel rods to cut into her shoulders and neck didn’t give her enough length to reach the food. After several days of not eating, she would have thought she would be thin enough to shimmy through the bars.

  Rebekah had searched her living area up and down and found nothing that could aid her in
reaching through. No stick. No bar. No belt that she could use to hook onto the tray. Dak had been careful to remove the toys he’d brought into the cell during his session with Mouse.

  She had thought about pulling down the chain that held the vertical bar, but that would have caused enough noise for all of Virginia to hear it. Then she’d contemplated removing one of the flimsy legs from one of the tables in her room. Fear of making too much noise and waking Dak prevented her from moving on with that plan.

  Rebekah made another valiant effort, but eventually gave up when the task proved to be out of her reach. As she sat back, she noticed right away that black smudges covered her arm and shoulder. She wiped her hand over the spots. She deduced immediately the distinct smell and texture of paint that now covered her.

  Her art. She hadn’t done that in a long time, either. She missed sketching, even if only in her mind. Glancing to the side, she saw Dak’s beloved Dante’s Inferno still sitting on the floor. She opened the book and found a completely blank page. She ripped it out and positioned herself on her stomach.

  Rebekah wiped her finger across the paint on her shoulder and used it to sketch a picture, one of an ogre. She glanced at Dak. With one leg down on the floor, the other still on the chair, one arm flopped to the side and his other hand covering his eyes, he made for a pretty good still model. Rebekah chose to add a few details to make the image match the man.

  When the paint started to dry on her skin, she searched the bars for more wet spots, finding some in the corners. The small picture started to take shape. She laughed at the details she added, like the hooves on his feet and the horns on his head. When she completed the rendering, Rebekah sat back and marveled at it. With a simple painting, her chest loosened up. She hadn’t smiled like this in a long, long time.

  Of course, she would have to keep this picture hidden. If Dak saw it, he would forgo discipline and would seriously whip her ass.

  Before she could stow the picture away, she had to dry it. Placing it on the floor, she blew on it. She didn’t expect her breath to catch the underside of the impromptu artistic expression, float it through the cell bars and nestle it underneath Dak’s booted foot.

  Rebekah covered her mouth and clambered back to her bed. Dak wouldn’t miss that picture. When he saw it, he would surely give Rebekah the response she’d been goading him to give her since he’d first captured her.

  Not bothering to wash up, Rebekah climbed into bed and covered her head. She needed to at least get one night of sleep in before the slaughter in the morning.

  ****

  All through the night, one dream plagued Dak. The image of Rebekah pleasuring herself in front of him assailed him. It had taken every bit of willpower not to rip off that cell door, take her in his arms, and show her what he really wanted to do with her—replace her finger with his dick and her hand on her tit with his.

  That would have been the worst thing he could have done. As a Dom, he tried showing her that BDSM didn’t involve sex, and that it could be about sensations, and he wanted nothing more than to bury his cock in her sweet pussy.

  With Rebekah, he couldn’t figure her out. She’d tried rattling his cage with all of the digs about being a good Dom, and the race issue. He’d gotten her back on her choice of Dom. He hadn’t intended on hurting her like that. She’d had it coming.

  Dak stirred awake and sat up on the chair. Not the most comfortable place to sleep, but he had no choice. He didn’t want Rebekah figuring out a way to get out of the cell. He had more work to do on her.

  Dak planted both feet on the floor. Looking over, he saw her tray of food untouched. Deep down, Dak wished Rebekah would have awakened him, gotten down in that damned position, and asked for her food. He didn’t want her starving. If she wanted to be in the Lifestyle, then she had to be trained and trained right.

  He retrieved the tray. His foot slipped on a piece of paper as he started to stand. He assumed his napkin must have fallen to the floor and had gotten caught under his boot. Dak lifted his foot and picked it up. Not a napkin like he suspected, he instead found a torn page from a book.

  Dak looked through the bars of the cell and saw the book that Rebekah had thrown at him last night with its cover open and a jagged edge where it look like a page had been ripped out. A one-of-a-kind print. Dak balled his free hand into a fist.

  He turned the paper over. He had to blink a few times to take in the depiction. The picture on the other side looked like a man in slumber. Had she drawn him? He had awakened in the position depicted in the picture, with his arm akimbo and one foot down. He noticed that she’d added the horns on his head and the hooves. Add a tail and it would have been Dak as the demon he saw himself to be.

  Dak chuckled. Had Rebekah done this? He ran his thumb over the picture. It didn’t smear so it couldn’t have been charcoal or pencil. Her brought the paper to his face and smelled it. The chemical aroma had a paint stench.

  He strolled to the gate. With his index finger, he ran it over various spots on the bars. After a few swipes he inspected his digit and found a faint stripe of black paint.

  What a clever woman.

  Looking through the bars, he stared at the rumpled linens on the bed. If he hadn’t seen Rebekah’s long, luscious leg dangling from under the blankets, he would have thought she had escaped. He glanced at the picture again. A fluttering feeling filled his belly. He had an idea.

  Dak picked up the tray of food and threw it in the fridge without covering it or caring where it landed. He didn’t have much time before Rebekah would wake up. Not only would he have breakfast waiting for her, he would have a better lure to get her to not only eat it, but also to bow down for him.

  At six o’clock in the morning, Dak marched into the closest Wal-Mart store with a clear mission…sort of. Ahead he saw Vera Hiller, a neighbor he had done some work for in the past.

  “Vera—”

  “Oh, hey, Dakota. I’ve been meaning to call you. There’s a loose step at my back—”

  Dak held up his hand. “Art supplies. Where can I find them?”

  The smile disappeared from the mature woman’s round face. “Uh, aisle twenty-five near the school supplies section.”

  Dak waved his hand to her as his way to thank her for the information. Running to the aisle, he nearly ran over a couple of people along the way. He glanced at his watch, hoping that Rebekah hadn’t woken up and found him gone. He could only imagine how scared she would be if she thought he had abandoned her. He had a feeling that enough people had done that already in her life.

  “Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four.” He darted down the correct row and found paper, scrapbooking supplies, paints, and dyes. He had no earthly idea what to get Rebekah. He grabbed a couple of large sketchpads. He figured an artist would want some of those. Then he looked at the paints. Oils or acrylic? Or did she like working in charcoal?

  A young woman strolled down the aisle. Wearing ripped up black jeans about four sizes larger than she needed, a flannel shirt tied around her waist as well as a blue-and-black flannel shirt, she looked the part of a starving artist. Not one to trust strangers, Dak had no choice but to put himself out there.

  “Excuse me.” He approached the young woman. “I need some help.” Reaching in his back pocket he pulled out the picture Rebekah created. “Looking at this, what kind of art supplies would you buy this person?”

  The girl looked at it, then stared at him. She smiled and nodded her head. “Dude, that’s so you.”

  “Okay, yes, I think it’s me, too. The supplies. Can you help?”

  “I mean you don’t have horns. Maybe under the hat.” The girl looked down. “Can’t see your feet.”

  “The supplies. Any help here?” In the list of virtues, patience could not be listed as one of Dak’s. If he hadn’t been wearing a baseball cap, the top of his head probably would have blown off by now.

  “Chill, dude.” The woman stared at the picture for a while. “Looks like oil-based paint. Hard to tell
. Definitely not thick.”

  “Okay, oils.” Dak darted to that section and picked up a couple of bottles along with some brushes. Damn, he should have grabbed a cart or a basket.

  “But the way the artist used her fingers to create this, I would think she would rather use pencil instead.” The girl ran her hand over the picture.

  “How do you know a woman did that?” He volleyed his attention between the young woman and the shelves of paints.

  She snickered. “You seem a bit uptight to let a dude do this to you. Nah, I think you pissed some chick off and this was her way to get back at you. Am I right?”

  Dak wouldn’t satisfy her curiosity. He twirled around the area trying to find charcoal. “Charcoal, charcoal, charcoal. I don’t see it. Where is it?”

  “Man, I do not work here, and this is not a real art store. They have just enough stuff to get by. If you want the real good supplies, you should go down to Excellence By Design down on Center Drive.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Where have you been? It’s the new downtown area. It’s all happening down there. Get with the program.”

  Dak snatched the picture from her hand. “Thanks for the help.” Just as Dak rounded the corner to head to the cashier, he bumped into someone’s cart. “Excuse me.” When he saw its driver, he wanted to shove the cart harder.

  “I didn’t think you were allowed close to civilized people.” Master Blade laughed, and the sound grated on Dak’s nerves.

  “I’m not.” Dak glared at him.

  “Yep, just getting school supplies for my class. That’s what happens when you have a job, a job where people depend on you, where you might make a difference. What about you, Dak?”

  The fact that Dak would be teaching his former submissive sat at the end of his tongue, waiting to be expelled. He held back, not wanting to reveal Rebekah’s whereabouts.