by Lyn Gala
She sat up and waited. With her straddling him, it was awkward, but he grabbed the edge of the bed and squirmed until he got himself face down. His room was small enough that he could press his palms against the cool metal wall at the head of the bed while his toes could just brush the wall on the opposite end. She ran her hands over his back and shoulders, her fingers trailing down his spine and catching the waist of his pants and tugging. They came off, but not without scraping over the skin so that the marks heated the skin like the rug burn he’d get as a child. Tom could only grunt and fist the sheets as his cock complained about the treatment.
She shifted around, pushing at his legs, and Tom spread them. Her knee pressed up into his crotch, and Tom fought an almost unbearable need to turn around and grab her. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss her or throw her off the bed, but lying under her took every bit of self-control he owned. The bunk was narrow, and she lowered herself onto him, her warmth soaking into his back and her fingers trailing over his arms. “Always watching, watching. Vigilant. See danger in every turn of a wrist. So very focused. Can only be all on or all off. Want to turn that vigilance all off.”
She let her hands slide down his arms, lingering over a knife scar near his left elbow that Tom never bothered to have it cosmetically fixed. When she encircled his wrists with her hands, she was lying down on top of him, her breath against the back of his neck, and Tom shivered despite the heat.
“Mine,” Da’shay whispered and Tom hissed. His cock wanted this, but this wasn’t some doxy holding him down, and as much as he wanted it, he could feel fear circling right under that desire. Da’shay kissed his shoulder and then ran her teeth over the warmed skin.
“Fuck.” Tom bucked and tried to thrust down into the bunk, but Da’shay had him pinned and the bunk just wasn’t wide enough for too much squirming around.
“Can see you,” she whispered into his ear. She ran her tongue along the edge of his ear and then he sucked in a fast breath, expecting the quick nip that followed, just hard enough to really sting, and Tom couldn’t bring his hand up to rub the sore away with her holding him. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder and then scraped her teeth over the skin again and Tom pressed his face to the pillow and groaned.
“Stay,” Da’shay ordered. She shifted toward the edge of the bed and Tom went to turn his head and see what she was up to, but hands caught either side of his head, holding his face down toward the pillow. “Stay,” she repeated. Tom shivered. If she meant that literally, he wouldn’t be able to see anything she was doing. He curled his hands into fists and she moved to pin his wrists down against the mattress. “Stay.”
Tom sighed into his pillow. Shit. He was laid out and blind and his cock was so hard it was starting to hurt. She moved away and Tom could hear her exploring his quarters. The familiar snick of one of his sniper rifles told him she was inspecting the weapon, and for some reason, that made Tom feel much more vulnerable than anything she could have done to his body. Drawers opened, metal sliding against metal, and Tom struggled with a need to move. When Da’shay was on him, it was easy to let her take control because she was physically stronger, but laying helpless when she was on the other side of the room left him trembling as his body fought every instinct that had kept him alive so long.
Her warm hand stroked his arm and Tom could feel the knots in his stomach start to ease. She straddled him again, her thighs squeezing him, and Tom took a deep breath as he waited for her to do something. He was good with his mouth and his hands, but she wasn’t letting him prove that. She rocked against him, her hands stroking up and down his arms and shoulders until she finally lay down on him, her heat soaking into his skin.
“So good. Be mine,” she whispered. After a few seconds of tracing circles against his side, she sat up. Clinking warned him that she’d found the chains Tom kept for prisoners. He wasn’t fool enough or desperate enough to use them on himself, but sometimes he would sit on his bunk and finger the cool metal. She ran the links over his back and he shivered as the metal stole the heat from his body. Placing a kiss right between his shoulder blades, she lay back down.
Now she was running the thicker cuff metal over his skin and Tom’s arm turned to goose flesh as she closed in on his wrist. She wasn’t hurrying. Tom wondered if she was waiting for him to do something, but before he could wonder what, she’d closed the cuff around his wrist and a quick tug told him she’d magnetically locked it to the wall.
There weren’t any choices now and Tom strained against the chain. It held him, and now Tom could struggle as much as he wanted without danger of getting loose. She locked the other cuff around his left wrist and fastened it to the wall and Tom was trapped.
“What you have in mind?” Tom asked now that it was too late for him to object to anything.
“Playing with my toy,” Da’shay said. She sat up and put all her weight on Tom’s ass, which pressed his cock down onto the mattress. Tom bit his pillow as he tried not to curse her out. He’d found cursing at women didn’t go over well, not even when he meant it as a compliment.
She squirmed forward so she was sitting on his lower back and started rocking back and forth. She made a low humming noise and musk was starting to fill the air. Tom looked over his shoulder and Da’shay was fingering her own clit, rocking into her hand with her head thrown back in pleasure. Tom yanked at the chains that kept him from reaching for her.
“I can help with that,” he offered. “Wouldn’t mind at all, mouth or cock.”
She kept rocking, but her gaze slowly came down to settle on him. As she looked down, she slowed her rocking until she was only fingering herself gently. Tom never knew it’d be so fucking hot to have a woman tie him down and masturbate on him. Arching her back, she reached for something down at the foot of the bed. When she sat up, Tom could see the knife. It was his own, the large hunting knife that had been his father’s. He’d stolen it from his stepfather the night he’d caught a ride to the docks with a neighbor. It was the only thing he still had from those days since the necklace his ma had gotten him had vanished years ago.
He held his breath as she pressed the flat of the blade to his shoulder. “I know so many things. Only you see that and follow. People frustrate me,” she said.
“They’ve been frustrating me for going on forty years.”
She smiled at him and tilted her head to the side as she ran the knife down his arm, scraping his skin lightly, just enough to make the blood rush to the surface. The heat gathered under his skin until she leaned down and blew on it. Tom shivered and watched as every arm hair rose straight up.
“I could do all sorts of things if you turned me around,” Tom offered with another pull at the cuffs.
With a wicked smile, Da’shay sat up and shifted her grip on the knife so that she had the point aimed down. Tom could feel a little hard thread of fear as he realized she had a knife at his back and he couldn’t do anything but wait to see what she had in her mind.
She brought the knife down so fast that Tom tensed up and sucked in a sharp breath, but then he realized she’d stabbed her own nightgown only a couple of inches above the hem. “Why’d you do that?” Tom asked. She put the knife on his back, right against his spine, and Tom could feel the point prickling his skin just above the spot where Da’shay was straddling him.
Da’shay ripped her nightgown, the fabric tearing so that she had a long circle of cloth and a ragged new bottom on her gown. Wrapping her fist around the strip, she pulled and the fabric gave so that she had one long strip about three inches wide. She twisted it to make a thin rope.
“What’s that for?” Tom could feel an unease settle into his stomach.
“Tom doesn’t like his mouth. Gets him in trouble, so I have to take care of my toy.” Da’shay slipped the fabric under his head, looped it and then slipped it under again. Tom sighed, but he really wasn’t in much of a position to complain as she put the fabric at his lips and started pulling the ends tight. Not even bothering to fight, T
om opened his mouth and let the fabric pull at the corners of his mouth before Da’shay tied it off. He could still talk, but he’d sound like an idiot. Settling his head on his pillow, he just looked up at her.
Da’shay smiled and picked up the knife and scraped it up his other arm. Tremors made the chains rattle as Tom’s body shivered. His arm slowly turned from white to red, like a sunburn appearing, and the heat gathered. Leaning down, Da’shay blew over it. “Such a pretty toy. Feels such things. Am going to keep my toy leashed to my side forever,” she promised. “I’ve been so alone. See myself through prisms stained with colors that aren’t me. So alone.” Putting the knife to the side, she started rocking against Tom’s waist, her fingers going back to her clit. “Will take care of my Tom so neither of us is alone again.”
Tom grunted and chewed on the gag as he struggled with a desire to do something—anything. But she’d made it more than clear he was only to lay there and take whatever she did.
Her humming turned to little cries and Tom watched as her rocking got more frantic. His back was wet with her juices and he bit down on his gag so hard that he could feel saliva slipping out the edge of his mouth. His cock felt as if it might split open, it hurt so much, but Tom tried to keep still as she worked herself into a frenzy. She came with a low cry, but she rocked even harder. Leaning forward, she dug her fingers into his shoulders and rubbed herself against his hot skin.
Tom cried out through the gag. He had never needed to come so badly in his life. His eyes were starting to water, but he forced himself to stay still as her rocking slowed and then finally stopped. She leaned over him, panting, her hands braced on his shoulders.
Closing his eyes, Tom realized that she might not let him come at all. He bit into the cloth gag and battled all these feelings in him. He wanted to come, it only seemed right that she let him come after she’d had her fun.
“My toy. Mine to play with,” Da’shay whispered, her voice still rough as she gasped for air. Tom pressed his eyes closed even harder and fisted the chains. God help him, he wanted her to take what she wanted, even if she wanted him hard and unsatisfied.
“My pretty toy. Strong. Not blinded by what others see.” She stroked his arm, and Tom wished he could just pull away from her. If he wasn’t going to get to come, he really needed to let his body calm down because holding on the edge of orgasm hurt. But she pressed herself to his back, her body hot from her own orgasms. Tom groaned in pain.
“Strong toy. All mine. Will play with him so much,” she threatened. Maybe she meant it as a promise, Tom couldn’t think well enough to know anymore; all his blood was in his cock. “White light washes away the colors that stain the world.” She brushed her fingers through his sweaty hair, pushing it away from his face.
He didn’t realize he was still pulling at the chains until she loosened the magnet end from the wall. His arms jerked free for a half second, and then she caught the two dangling chains. Tom looked at her, confused, but the gag did seem to suggest that she wasn’t open to questions. Considering that he tended to piss women off when he tried to talk, that might actually be a mercy.
She pulled at him, lifting the end of the chains up to the ceiling over the bed. The chains were long enough that when Da’shay locked them to the ceiling, Tom was on his knees with his body stretched up. His shoulders took a lot of his weight. That didn’t bother him as much as his cock, though. It stood up against his stomach, leaning from its own weight and turning a very disturbing shade of purple. Now that Tom wasn’t on his stomach, the need to come wasn’t as sharp, but it still drove about every other thought out of his head.
Da’shay moved to sit near the top of the bunk where she could get a good look at him. She openly leered at his body and Tom could feel his cock ache with need. Pursing her lips, she swung her legs around and braced her feet on his thighs, which made her nightgown ride up. Tom could see the dark triangle of hair and the dark blue stripe that led over her stomach. He could see the pink lips on either side of her moist cleft. He could see, but he couldn’t touch, which was just about killing him.
Arching her back, she let her fingers slip between her legs as she played with her clit before slipping fingers deep into her pussy. It was a gentle motion now, but then she’d already come. “So many diamonds sending light and color everywhere, but when Ramsay took you to the wall, all the colors merged into white light clear enough to sweep all other colors aside,” she said, running her toes up and down his thighs. “Pure white.” Her toes nudged his balls and Tom cried out in pain and need. He could feel a line of saliva slip out the corner of his mouth, but he could only kneel as Da’shay nudged his balls again before she used her foot to gently lift his heavy cock so that it stood upright.
“Love to see my toy, feel the white as he follows,” she said, and her tone made that sound like a confession.
Twisting around, she knelt in front of him and caught his head in her hands. Tom looked at her. “I’ll always take care of my toy, but I can’t always explain why. Will my toy always follow?”
Her nightgown was brushing against his hot cock and Tom thrust forward into it, but her hands and the chains kept him from having much success. She just stared at him and Tom realized she wasn’t going to move until he gave an answer. It’d be easy to say yes out of some hope that she’d let him come, but Tom knew that wasn’t smart. They were on the ship, so someone would let him out of Da’shay’s chains eventually and he could come all he wanted in his own bathroom. But if he said yes, he didn’t doubt that she’d never let go.
Tom nodded.
Da’shay smiled at him, pressing her body to his and wrapping her long fingers around his cock. Tom thrust forward, his cock sliding into her warmth, her hand slicked by her own juices. Her mouth came open, but before she could say anything, Tom was coming in waves that left his entire body shivering and weak. He let the chains carry his weight as he tipped his head back. His cock still ached from the delayed orgasm, but even the ache felt right. Da’shay gave a small laugh and traced his slave mark as Tom dangled from the chains, his shoulder muscles stretching and aching with the strain.
“Can taste your truth, blue in the white,” Da’shay told him, running fingers down his stomach. “So many colors, spinning, but you saw me and then you shined a white light into all the corners. Sure and more sure, following behind the captain, but then your white was dulled. Will never let with white dull,” she promised solemnly. Tom frowned and the gag caught the corners of his mouth as it occurred to him that she was talking about things he’d felt, as if they were colors she could pick up in a coloring stick. “Your white is mine.”
She reached up to unknot the gag and Tom thought he might have a chance to ask about whether he was right—whether she was seeing his feelings. However, as soon as she slipped the fabric free, she put a finger over his lips to silence him. Tom wanted to argue, but he’d told her that he’d obey her and he didn’t figure he wanted to start testing the boundaries of that when he was naked and chained to the ceiling. She smoothed the fabric out, running her fingers over the dark spots where Tom’s spit had stained the cloth.
“Tom needs rest,” Da’shay said as she brought it back up to his face. This time she used the wide fabric to cover his whole mouth. As a gag, it was pretty much worthless because Tom still would be able to talk, but he hesitated to start a conversation when she was making it so clear that she didn’t want to talk. She tied the strip and then brought her wrist controller up to the cuffs. Tom expected her to let him free, but instead she just detached them from the ceiling and tugged on him to get him to lie down.
Still not sure what she wanted, Tom settled down on his own bunk, watching mutely as she locked the cuffs back to the wall and then slipped between his arms and laid with her head on his chest. She traced her fingers over the slave mark and Tom realized that he was marked for real now. It wasn’t the tattoo as much as the quiet that slipped into his thoughts, but either way, he knew he wasn’t ever going to be free of her
. And he wasn’t even a little upset. Her fingers came up and traced the shape of his lips under the fabric and Tom sighed through his nose. The others were going to throw all kinds of fits, but the benefit of never fitting in with people was that Tom had lots of practice at pissing people off.
“Quiet. Doesn’t matter,” Da’shay said. Her hand slipped down and cupped his cock and balls and Tom jerked at his chains in surprise, but he really couldn’t do much else. Besides, he was God-almighty tired. Tom closed his eyes and left tomorrow for tomorrow.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Da’shay was still in a mood the next morning, leading Tom to the shower and chaining him to the wall so she could wash him, her hands sliding all over him as she used way more water than regs allowed.
“You going to do something about that?” Tom asked as she ran her fingers over his hard cock.
“Nope,” she said cheerfully.
Tom groaned, but considering that he’d come last night, he couldn’t complain right now. Besides, he did have other things to consider. He leaned his head back as Da’shay worked shampoo into his hair. “What color does Becca’s diamond usually make?” Tom asked. Da’shay’s hands paused.
“Yellows and oranges, all tangled in her numbers,” Da’shay answered quietly. Only then did she start working the shampoo.
“And now?”
Da’shay let her slick hands slide over his back and Tom groaned. Lifting all the junk yesterday had made him more than a little sore. Da’shay worked the heel of her hand into his muscle. “Yellows and oranges shadowed by teal, making everything gray.”
