Woman In Chains

by Bridget Midway

  “I’m going to teach you some self-defense moves.” He took a step back from her.

  Rebekah had to blink at Dak’s proclamation. “Why? Do you live in a dangerous area?”

  He chuckled. “No. I highly doubt that the raccoons and foxes out here are going to attack you any time soon.”

  “If I’m here with you, wouldn’t you protect me?” She fully understood the implication of him teaching her self-defense moves.

  Maybe he had planned on returning her to Master Blade after all. Or maybe he wanted her to know so that she could use the moves with whatever Dom or Domme who would eventually have her because, apparently, Dak didn’t want her. After what they’d experienced that morning, the passion, the release, he still wanted to give her up?

  “You may not always be with me. The plan was and has always been to retrain you and put you with another Dom or Domme.”

  He still planned on letting her go. Rebekah stared at him, hoping he caught her disappointment. She would just have to do her level best to have him see the error of his decision.

  “Until you’re in your permanent home, from now on during lunch I’ll teach you self-defense moves and at night we’ll do BDSM retraining.” He approached her.

  “And do I get to have you for breakfast, too, like we did this morning?” She licked her lips.

  He froze in his spot. “Not all BDSM is about sex.”

  “But isn’t it great when you can find someone you can share both with?”

  Without answering her, he cleared his throat. “If someone ever approaches you in a threatening manner, and you’re able to get a hold of their hand, I want you to take two fingers like this.” He wrapped his fingers around her index and middle fingers. “And take the other two fingers in your other hand like this.” He repeated the same hold on the other two fingers. “And you spread them apart as far as you can.” He simulated the motion, but didn’t go far enough to hurt her. Then he let her hand go. “Try it on me.”

  He held his hand up to her. Before taking hold, she studied his callused palm, admiring the mountainous ridge of pale skin expanding over the top of his palm. His long fingers brought her back to the moment when he’d used those very digits to explore her wet core, bringing her to the highest level of ecstasy.

  She held his hand and pressed her lips against his palm. She inhaled and found that familiar woody scent. The smell mesmerized her so much she had to close her eyes and bring back the memories of this morning, a time that now with his new attitude seemed so long ago.

  She placed his hand on her breast. Like an art teacher with a student instructing him on how to mold a lump of clay, she squeezed his hand to encourage him to do the same. Though the touch had been forced, she moaned from the contact anyway.

  As fast as a whip crack, he jerked his hand down away from her. “No! This is serious. I want you to treat this training as seriously as the BDSM training.”

  She slowly opened her eyes. When she did, she couldn’t figure out if Dak had been angry with her or scared. What would he be so afraid of? Her?

  “Attack me, then. You want me to take the training seriously, then be serious with it.” With as much force as she could muster, she shoved him back as far with both hands. “Come on. Give me your best shot.”

  Dak, being sturdy as the trees filling his backyard, barely moved.

  “What are you doing? Are you crazy?” He reached out for her and held her shoulders, but she wriggled out of his grip.

  “If you’re attacking me, I’m going to fight back.” She pushed on him again, her hands against his hard chest.

  “I’m telling you there’s a smarter way to fight. You really think you’re going to beat me, might for might?”

  “I’ll fight you! I don’t care. I’ll fight!”

  In that moment, she didn’t see Dak standing before her. He’d transformed into Master Blade. The tall, muscular white man she desired had now become a short, dark-skinned black man who ruled her with a firm hand and thought he knew what to do to her.

  She blinked and, in an instant, the image transformed into her father. She stopped moving. She relaxed her fists and stared at him.

  “You’re nothing, gal,” she could hear him say. “Thought you were going to die when you were a baby. Should have died. But you fought.” She imagined her father grabbing her shoulders. “Ain’t got no fight in you now, do you?” He raised his hand to strike her, and she turned her head.

  “No! No more. Please, don’t.” She tried bringing her hands up to shield her face, but they wouldn’t move.

  “Rebekah, what’s going on with you?” Dak’s voice cut through her tainted memories.

  She blinked and gained focus on the surroundings and the situation. Dak had his arms around her, holding her arms down. He stared into her eyes.

  “Who are you fighting? Tell me.” He kept his stare directly on hers.

  His stare melted her. She folded into his arms, not even able to support her body. Instead of picking her up and taking her to her bed like she had expected him to do, he held onto her shoulders and pulled her up, then shook her.

  “Come on, Rebekah. Fight!” He shook her again, trying to snap her out of her of her haze. “Don’t let your past defeat you.”

  “I-I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can.” He took a step back and held his hand up to her face again. “Show me your strength.”

  Rebekah kept her gaze down to the floor. She balled her toes.

  “Your strength is not in just taking the abuse. It’s in holding your own when confronted with injustice. Learn to protect yourself.” He splayed his fingers in front of her face. “Do it!”

  She brought her hands up and grabbed his fingers as he had instructed her. Mustering up all of her strength, she pulled his fingers apart before he drew his arm in and wrapped his free arm around her.

  “That’s good. I’m proud of you.” He patted her back. “I’m so proud of you. I knew you had it in you.”

  With his compliment, her chest opened. Her breathing slowed. She released his fingers and wrapped her arms around his waist. She could never imagine that executing such an empowering move would be so rewarding, yet so exhausting.

  Just like when Dak had recognized her artistic abilities, he also drew out her power. It almost felt as though he had transferred his fortitude into her. For that, she would be forever grateful.

  She kissed the side of his warm neck. In turn, he rubbed his hands up and down her back. Thanking him couldn’t stop there. She kissed around his neck, down his collarbone to the other side of his head. He rewarded her affection with a kiss of his own to the side of her head.

  She pulled her head back and looked into his eyes. In his darker and heavy-lidded stare, she found a different intention. In their unspoken conversation, he put his hands on her shoulders and eased her down.

  Not needing any encouragement, Rebekah lowered herself to her knees. Dak held her hands and placed them on the waistband of his jeans. As she kept her stare on his, she undid his jeans and belt. During the whole operation, he didn’t move. He kept his gaze on hers, commanding her with his eyes alone.

  She pushed his jeans down along with his boxers. Jutting before her stood his erect penis, thick, strong, and proud. A pearl of precum beaded at his mushroom tip.

  “Hold it.” His deep voice rolled down to her.

  As instructed, she wrapped her fingers around the base. With her other hand, she cradled his balls.

  “Lick it.” He smoothed his hand over her hair, then brought her head forward.

  She licked his tip. As she suspected, his clear precum tasted salty, but sweet. She covered the tip with her mouth and held him there, pressing her tongue against it to extract more cum. For that action, he growled.

  For his appreciative response, she massaged his tight balls and eased her mouth down midway on his shaft. She wrapped her tongue around his thick member and felt him pulsating in her mouth.

  When her mouth reached down to the hi
lt, he fisted her hair. His wiry pubic hair tickled her nose. She held him for a moment before pulling back. When she released him, she kissed the tip.

  Rebekah snaked her tongue around his long shaft. As much as she wanted to stroke her own clit during this operation, she had a duty to please Dak, her temporary Dom. When she covered his steely rod with her mouth again, she felt him gyrating his hips to slide himself in and out of her mouth.

  Soon his thrusting worked in concert with her back-and-forth motion. The more she sucked him, the more his legs and body trembled. She felt his stomach lurch when she brought her mouth down and back up again.

  “Oh, God! So good.” He brought both hands to her hair and smoothed it back from her face.

  She dropped her mouth down to his balls and ran her tongue over them. As he sucked air in between his teeth, his sac twitched. She drew one nut into her mouth.

  “Jesus H., you’re amazing!” His body quivered even more.

  She let one ball go and moved her mouth to the other, giving it the same treatment. As she did this, her hand steadily stroked his shaft. She released him and licked the underside of his dick. Back at the tip, she licked it again, then slid her mouth down over him.

  This time, he fucked her mouth. She felt his sac tighten even more. Without having done this before on Dak, she already knew what would be next.

  “I’m going to come.” He put his hand to the back of Rebekah’s head.

  He stopped his hips long enough to shoot his warm cum into her mouth. She caught his thick seed and swallowed every bit. She eased her mouth back and stroked his shaft, mining the remaining offering to savor.

  When she took all that she could, he stepped back. He reached down to pull up his jeans, and the way his head tilted, it looked like he wanted to kiss her. To encourage him, she sat up straighter and brought her lips up to meet his.

  In a hoarse whisper, he asked, “What’s your real name?”

  In that moment, the fantasy that Rebekah had conjured in her head came crashing down around her. Why did Dak want to break the moment by asking her to reveal so much of herself? Why couldn’t he be happy being Master Dak with Rebekah?

  She lowered her head. With her head bowed, she heard him fastening his jeans. She rested her hands on her lap. Unexpectedly, he crouched down in front of her.

  “Look up.”

  When she didn’t respond, he repeated himself.

  “Look at me.”

  She raised her head. Her gaze connected to his just like the way her body responded to his.

  “I need for you to trust me. If you learn to trust, you’ll establish a better relationship with your future Dom or Domme.”

  She reached for him. “You?”

  He stood and walked away from her. “I’ll prepare our lunch.”

  She remained on the floor, wondering how such a good moment had turned so wrong so quickly. With the slam of her cell door, she wondered why the hell she cared so much. If he didn’t want her, why bother trying to impress him?

  Her cell door squeaked open again; however, she remained still and stoic. He stood in front of her again. After a beat, he lowered himself again.

  “You learned a lesson. You’ve earned another jar of paint.” He held up a jar of a bright red paint and placed it in front of her. Then he walked away.

  As she stared at the paint, she smiled. She knew why she had to keep trying. Deep down, she knew he wanted more from her, wanted her. Perhaps if she could get him to trust her, he would accept her as his permanent submissive. She could only hope.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dinnertime approached. Dak felt as giddy as a teenager, as though he’d never had sex before. With Rebekah the experience seemed different. They connected like they were meant to be together.

  Impossible. Dak didn’t think he could be compatible with anyone, woman, submissive or slave. Lil’ Mary had proven that when she left him for someone different.

  He couldn’t deny the connection. As much as she needed him, he needed her. Knowing that he had allowed another woman to get to him didn’t sit well with him.

  Saving Rebekah shouldn’t have been this difficult, this taxing. Just a simple in-and-out job. He hadn’t expected her to get to him, break down the defenses that he’d worked so hard and so long to build.

  Whenever she looked at him with those hypnotic brown eyes, a fluttery feeling kicked up in his stomach, not to mention how hard his cock got.

  When she had told him that she thought he would protect her, it had taken every bit of force for him not to concede. If she expected another Dom like Blade, then he didn’t need to bother with trying to keep her for himself. Even with the incredible sex, Dak knew deep down that she would leave him. He wouldn’t wait for that to happen.

  He dialed the number of an old acquaintance of his, one with some connections.

  He answered the call on the second ring. “McCreevey.”

  “Hey, man.” Dak strolled around the bedroom he’d made into an office. “I know it’s been a while.”

  “Ricci. Staying out of trouble?”

  Dak could almost see his former SEAL buddy with his shaved head and bright, white smile gleaming against his dark skin.

  “You know me,” he replied.

  “Yeah, that’s why I asked.”

  Dak chuckled. “Listen, remember that time I saved your ass back in Kuwait?”

  “Man, I think I’ve repaid you ten times over for that.”

  “I’m going for favor eleven. I need to track down the identity of someone.” Dak plopped down in his desk chair and kicked his legs out in front of him.

  “Still doing the bounty hunter thing? I thought you got out of that.” McCreevey coughed.

  His friend must still be going strong in his two-pack a day cigarette habit.

  “I did. No, this is for something else. Got a young woman with amnesia.”

  That story kind of rang true. Besides, McCreevey didn’t know about Dak’s BDSM involvement, and it would stay that way.

  “Amnesia, huh? So how did you get involved with her?” His friend could smell bullshit from the other side of the country.

  “Friend of a friend. You know the deal. Where I live, people call me like I carry a badge.” He’d found Rebekah with Doc the first night she ran away because of that. If Mrs. Jensen hadn’t called him suspecting something suspicious with Doc and some strange girl he’d had with him, Dak would have still been searching for her.

  “Must mean that they trust you. You should definitely do the cop thing, or at least, a private investigator. I keep telling you I have room for you at my agency.”

  “Thanks for the offer. I’m doing just fine.”

  “Making cribs and coat racks?”

  “Pays the bills.” Dak didn’t want to talk about his dreams, especially with someone who had gone after his dream and accomplished his goals.

  “I don’t get it. You would be such an awesome cop. You just need to balance out your good sense with your temper, and you’ll be—”

  Dak interrupted him. “Look, do you still have a way to search the fingerprint database?” He glanced at the glass Rebekah had used during lunch. He had to stop staring at her full bottom lip print around the rim of the glass because he kept imagining those same lips around his cock earlier that day.

  “You know I do. What do you have?”

  “Full handprint on a glass. You want me to transfer it on some tape or send you the whole glass?”

  “I’d like for you to stop handing me this bullshit story and tell your old buddy the truth.” A long pause lingered before McCreevey continued. “But since I probably won’t get anything out of you, I’ll bite. Send me the whole glass.”

  “What? You don’t trust my transferring abilities?”

  “I don’t even know if you’re going to send me the glass intact. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt as an old friend.”

  Dak laughed. “Yeah, right. I’ll get it to you soon.”

  “Cool. Just be
aware that I may not get anything. If she doesn’t have a record anywhere, or she’s never been bonded for anything, she’ll still be a mystery.”

  Regardless if his friend found her prints, Rebekah would remain a mystery. Dak couldn’t be satisfied with that, not while she stayed with him.

  “I know. But I have to check out all of the angles.” After getting his friend’s business address, he disconnected the call.

  Dak had a dinner to prepare and a lesson to put together. The feather treatment had gone over well. Taking another cue from Moira, he had used the plume to get Rebekah comfortable with her body. Now he needed to goad her further.

  Tonight’s lesson would push Rebekah to her limit.

  ****

  At the sound of Dak’s footsteps, Rebekah got down into her position, including having her head down to the floor. She found that whenever he came near her, every inch of her skin tingled. The sensation felt foreign to her since she’d never reacted that way with Master Blade.

  Her cell door shrieked open. The sound alone tightened her gut.

  “Up.”

  She raised her head, but remained on her haunches.

  “Are you ready for tonight’s lesson?” He sat a bag on the dresser and returned his attention to her.

  “Yes, Sir.” If he did to her tonight what he did with her the night he used the feather, she couldn’t wait.

  “Good.” From his bag, he pulled out something on a long, slender, silver chain, and a thin piece of rope. “Tonight will be all about breast play.”

  At the idea that he would be concentrating all of his efforts at her breasts, she fell backward. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

  “What was that?” He approached her.

  “I mean, Sir, I don’t think I’m ready for this.” She shook her head.

  “You’ll learn in BDSM that the more you trust your Dom or Domme, the better the relationship will go.” He glanced at a corner in the cell. “Strip down and go to the cross.”

  She tugged on the hem of her shirt. In the corner stood a thick, dark mahogany cross. At the ends of the T of the cross hung wrist restraints. She’d noticed them before, but hadn’t seen them in action yet.