Claudia's Surrender: The Case of the Reluctant Submissive

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Claudia's Surrender: The Case of the Reluctant Submissive Page 10

by S. J. Lewis


  “I’ll do that, Sam.” He didn’t say anything and for a moment she thought he’d hung up. “Sam?”

  “I’m here, Red. I’m just beat. I ain’t gotten much sleep the past couple days.”

  She thought about what to say in reply. If they were together, she could take him in her arms and words wouldn’t be so necessary. But they were far, far apart.

  “He was a good friend of yours?”

  “One of the best, Red. I really want to get the sonofabitch who did it.”

  There was an angry tone to his voice now. It was a cold, deep anger. It reminded her of one of her first impressions of him, years ago, that he was a man capable of violence. It had been one of the things that she’d found so powerfully attractive about him. Now, it made her shiver.

  “Be careful, Sam. If you’re right about all this, whoever did it might try to kill you too.”

  “I ain’t so easy to kill, Red.” There was a pause, and she heard him sigh. “I gotta go,” he said. “I’ll keep in touch.”

  “Sam?” she blurted before he could hang up.

  “Yeah?” The anger had gone from his voice. Now he just sounded tired.

  “Be careful, Sam. Promise me.”

  “I’ll be as careful as I need to be, Red. Promise.”

  There was a click. He’d hung up.

  She put the phone back on its cradle and leaned back in the chair. Why hadn’t she been able to say what she really wanted to tell him?

  In her years on the police force, she’d come into contact with maybe a dozen people who’d killed somebody. They fell into two categories. Most of them had been devastated once the realization had set in about what they had done. These were the ones who had killed, unthinking, in a fit of rage or passion.

  There had been one, though, who hadn’t seemed at all disturbed by it. The only emotion he’d displayed during his interrogation had been boredom. His eyes had been flat and emotionless, reminding her of a cobra she’d seen at the zoo once.

  She hoped whoever the “sonofabitch” was that Sam was after, he wasn’t like cobra eyes. Against a creature like that, even Sam wouldn’t have much of a chance.

  Of course, it was also possible that the police were right and Sam was wrong, and his friend had skipped with the money.

  She stood up and began pacing. Dammit! He’d dumped all of this on her and now she wasn’t going to get any sleep at all tonight.

  She stopped pacing. Didn’t he say he’d sent her an e-mail? She hurried back to her computer. It might not be the same as having him here, and it wasn’t even the same as hearing his voice on the phone, but it was something of Sam at least.

  There was just one message from ‘unclejack01’. Out of habit, she pruned away all the junk e-mails first. There was also a message from Dianne, but she’d get to that one later. Finally, she clicked on Sam’s message and settled back to read it.

  She read through it twice. It laid out only the facts, with no speculation on Sam’s part. His friend…he didn’t give a name…had been in charge of accounting and payroll for a large construction project. Pay was monthly, and always in cash. It arrived by armored truck the day before it was due. The following day, payday, the workers would come to his office at the end of the day and receive their pay. Each man had to sign for it in person. Apparently for this part of the operation Sam’s unnamed friend had some clerical help. There was an assistant bookkeeper and a couple of clerks. Sam’s friend had gone missing the night before payday, along with his car and something like half a million dollars in cash.

  She took a sip of her wine. Put that way, it wasn’t surprising that the police figured he’d skipped with the money. After the armored truck delivered the payroll, it was always stashed in a large safe, under the eyes of the truck’s guards. Sam’s friend was the only one on the site with the combination to the safe, and the safe hadn’t been forced. It did look pretty cut-and-dried. Could it be that Sam just couldn’t believe an old friend of his could do such a thing? She wasn’t sure. Sam seemed to be a pretty good judge of people.

  It was moot anyway. She couldn’t help, as much as she might want to, and Sam could be wrong. Claudia sighed. She drained off the last of the wine in a gulp and logged out without checking Dianne’s message. It would keep. She turned off her computer and began pacing around her apartment again. She felt restless and frustrated. She also felt very horny. She wanted Sam here with her, not chasing around out in the desert after someone who might not even exist.

  Tonight, she would want him to be rough with her…well, more rough than usual. She’d want to fight him, resist him, to be forced to submit to whatever he had in mind. But he was far away, and she was here alone. Dammit! She wanted to throw her wineglass against the wall out of sheer frustration. Instead, she padded into her kitchen and put it in the sink. There was something she could do that was more constructive than breaking glass.

  She went into her bedroom and shed her robe. There was a storage box under her bed. She pulled it out and opened it. It was full of ropes, collars, straps, handcuffs…all the toys she and Sam had accumulated. Naked, she began rummaging through it, looking for some very specific things.

  One night, Sam had told her he wanted to watch her put herself in bondage for him. He’d given her the items to do it with: Handcuffs, leg cuffs and a ball gag that stuffed her mouth very completely. She’d done as he’d asked, even running the chain of her leg cuffs between the handcuffs so she couldn’t stand up. He’d teased her mercilessly that night, taking pleasure in just watching her struggles for a while. The next night, he’d added a little something, and watched her again. When he was done watching, he’d fucked her long and hard.

  She found what she was looking for. She laid it on the floor and slid the box back under her bed. She spread out the dropped robe on the floor next to her bed and settled down on it. The terrycloth wasn’t as soft as the carpeting, but she didn’t want soft. The leg cuffs went on first. If they left marks on her ankles, she could wear shoes with ankle straps to work tomorrow to hide the marks. Even so, she was careful not to ratchet them too tightly.

  Next came a wide, thick leather collar. It had a single D-ring, with a long length of chain attached. Dangling from the end of the chain was a pair of handcuffs. She buckled the collar around her neck, imagining Sam watching her, urging her on just by the hungry look in his eyes. If those handcuffs left marks, well, she’d just wear a long-sleeved blouse to work again. There was a key that fit both sets of cuffs. She put it aside where she could find it easily later.

  Now for the ball gag. She had to use her hand to push it behind her teeth. It stretched her jaws almost painfully, and she couldn’t help drooling whenever Sam made her wear it, but it also muffled any and all sounds she made. She buckled it securely into place.

  Almost ready. She picked up the blindfold and looked at it for a moment. It was only a length of thick, soft black cloth, but it added a bit more risk. As long as it was on, she wouldn’t be able to see anything at all. She shrugged to herself and put it on, knotting it tightly. The next part wasn’t hard. She gripped the chain that hung from her collar and slid her hand down until she reached the handcuffs. She rose up on her knees and put them between her legs with one hand, groping behind her for them with her other hand. Once she’d gotten hold of them, she pulled them up and put her free hand behind her. The chain was tickling her inner thighs now.

  She locked a handcuff around one wrist. She wasn’t completely helpless yet, and she poised on the edge for a moment, savoring the sensations. Her heart was pounding, and she was wet already. She drew the chain upwards, until it was just touching the lips of her pussy. Sam had personally chosen the chain, and the links were large, cold, smooth and hard. She shivered. She hesitated. Had she dead-bolted the door? Were all the windows safely locked? She thought of all the things that could happen to her if some intruder came in and found her like this. She shivered again.

  She locked the handcuffs around her other wrist and pulled up o
n the chain until it almost hurt. She could feel a trickle of saliva on her chin already. Her skin felt hot, her nipples were swollen and sensitive. She wished Sam was there to suck on them…or do anything else to them. She began rotating her hips, feeling the chain sliding back and forth. She imagined Sam watching her with that hungry look, getting hard for her.

  Her imagination took over. Now it was not Sam watching her, but several men, all strangers, standing around her, just watching. Maybe one of them had a small whip he would use on her ass if she refused to put on a show for them. She pulled the chain tighter, grinding herself against it, moaning behind the big ball gag. The hard, round links slid and pressed against her clitoris. She moved faster. She moaned again.

  No…it was just Sam watching, sitting in the chair, leaning forward, intent on her and nothing else. She arched her back for him so he could see how hard her nipples were, how they stood out from the soft, soft flesh of her breasts. Soon she would feel his hands on them, fondling, squeezing. But first, he wanted to see her make herself come. She moved her hips faster, harder. She could feel herself starting to lose it.

  Chapter Nine

  She awoke suddenly, only aware that something was wrong. She tried to sit up, but the chains and cuffs she’d shackled herself with ended her attempt with a painful jolt. For a moment, she fought panic.

  It was alright, she told herself, it was alright. All she had to do was find the key. First, she would have to get rid of the blindfold. She tried rubbing it away from her eyes against the terrycloth of the bathrobe she was still lying on. It didn’t work. Okay, time for Plan B. She sat up…much more carefully this time…bringing her cuffed hands up under her raised knees. Balancing herself with care, she raised her feet, tucking them in close and sliding her hands under them. All right, now her hands were in front of her, but that damned chain linking them to her collar was going to give her some trouble. The chain on her ankle cuffs was getting in the way. She leaned forward, raising her hands towards the blindfold.

  There. Now she could see. The key was right where she had left it. She rolled onto her side and wormed her way over to it.

  Once she had the key, it didn’t take long to free herself. Sam would have enjoyed watching her. He always marveled at how limber she was and always tried to push her limits. She removed the ball gag last, moving her jaw to work out some of the stiffness. She left the collar on. Only now did she dare to look at the alarm clock.

  Three-forty in the morning. She let out a sigh of relief. She’d been worried that she’d slept so long that she would be late for work. She stood up and stretched, spreading her arms and legs wide. She felt tired. She also felt lonely and a little sad. Masturbating against the chain drawn tight between her legs might scratch her itch, but it wouldn’t feed her hunger like Sam could with his hands, cock and tongue. She sighed again, running her hands through her coppery hair and regarding the tangle of equipment on the floor. She bundled it all up in the bathrobe and shoved it under her bed. It was late, and she still needed sleep. She could sort it all out tomorrow. For a moment, she debated taking a shower, but she could do that in the morning. Still wearing the collar…she could vividly remember the first time Sam had put it on her…she climbed into her bed. She hugged one of the pillows to her, wishing it were Sam.

  ***

  The alarm clock rang too soon. She hit the snooze button as many times as she dared before she actually got up. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she took a look at her wrists and ankles. There were marks from the cuffs, but they were faint. She unbuckled the collar and looked around for a moment for a place to put it before stuffing it under her pillow. Yawning, she made her way to the bathroom. It was going to be a long day.

  The shower helped to wake her up, especially when she turned the cold water up high at the end. She stood it as long as she could before shutting it off. Naked and shivering, she groped for her towel. She gave herself a vigorous rubdown with it and checked her wrists and ankles again. She decided it might be a good idea to go with a long-sleeved blouse today. It was supposed to be warm and sunny and although she’d be indoors for most of the day, she usually covered up in sunny weather anyway. As for her ankles…well, she had a couple of pairs of heels with ankle straps, but they weren’t for the office. She’d go with a long, loose skirt and hope for the best. Jerry might notice, but he almost certainly wouldn’t say anything to anybody. She couldn’t help what he might think, but he would keep it to himself.

  She felt tired enough to stop for coffee at a little convenience store. There was a coffeemaker at the office, but she didn’t want to wait. She sipped at the hot liquid as she drove. All the while, the radio told her of the usual accidents and traffic jams on the main routes, interspersed with weather reports, commercials, and the morning news. Some days, she thought they could just record the Monday show and play it all week long. Would anyone notice if they did?

  The traffic problems rarely bothered her. She didn’t live all that far from her office, and she didn’t need to take any of the main arteries to get there. She pulled into her usual parking space fifteen minutes early. Neither Jerry nor Amanda had arrived yet. She locked her car, walked to the office door and unlocked it. And with that, she was back to the old daily routine…without Sam. She felt suddenly saddened by the thought. But…if he came back, she’d wind up neglecting her business like before, and she’d worked too hard to let that happen again.

  She turned on the lights and went over to the coffeemaker. She was going to need a whole pot just for herself if she was going to get through this day. Tomorrow shouldn’t be as hard. Once she had everything ready, she hit the “Brew” button and went over to her desk. After a moment, the coffeemaker gurgled loudly and then seemed to sigh. It sounded sad, resigned to its own old daily routine, and Claudia suddenly found herself fighting back tears. Amanda chose that moment to hurry in through the door. “Good morning!” she said brightly.

  Claudia faked a sneeze. She didn’t want Amanda to see her crying.

  “Good morning!” she smiled. “Sorry…there’s something in the air today. I’ve been sneezing most of the way here.”

  “Really?” Amanda looked at the doorway, then back at Claudia. “Do you have allergies?”

  “Not really. It just happens sometimes.”

  “Oh.” Amanda nodded and went to her desk. Grateful for her lack of curiosity, Claudia started up her computer. She had a lot to catch up on.

  Jerry bustled in a couple of minutes later. “Morning, Chief,” he grinned. He held up a white paper bag. “I brought some donuts, in case anybody wants some.”

  “Thanks, Jer.” Claudia responded. Jerry had a fondness for jelly donuts. She didn’t care for them herself. The jelly was always too sticky sweet. But he always included some that were powdered or glazed, and one of them sounded pretty good just now. She hadn’t had any breakfast. Sam had been cooking them for her before.

  She felt her eyes beginning to tear up again. She faked another sneeze.

  Jerry put the bag of donuts down next to the coffeemaker and came over to her.

  “You okay, Chief?”

  “Oh. Sure.” Claudia sniffled as if another sneeze was imminent. “Just something in the air this morning, I think.”

  “Okay,” he shrugged. Whether he believed her or not, he wasn’t going to push it. She was grateful for that.

  “I wanted to ask you …” He hesitated. “You going to be here all day today?”

  “Yes.” Claudia replied. “I’ve been letting things slide for too long. It’s time to get serious again.”

  “Uh-huh,” he nodded and looked at her more closely. “You sure you’re okay, Chief?”

  “I will be. Can you and Amanda bring me up to speed?”

  It didn’t take long. This time of year was usually slow anyway. The home security company that used her as a consultant wanted to renew her contract, a couple of suspicious spouses wanted her agency to spy on possibly-straying mates, and a local supermarket chain wanted h
er advice on how to cut down on shoplifting losses. She sighed and shook her head at that one. Usually, a company suffered most of its losses to employee theft, but some companies had trouble believing it could happen to them.

  “One last thing, Ms. Cole,” Amanda said nervously. “The insurance company doesn’t want to pay us for the Bowman case. They’re saying since it was part of a fraud set up by Mr. Shepperton, they’re not obligated.”

  “The hell they aren’t!” Claudia snorted. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amanda flinch.

  “I’m not upset with you, Amanda,” Claudia reassured her. “But I signed that contract in good faith, and they’re damned well going to honor it.”

  “You might have to get a lawyer,” Jerry observed.

  “I might,” Claudia nodded. “But this might be a bluff on the part of one of their executives to see if we just shrug and walk away. Well, we’re not going to, but it really bugs me that it doesn’t cost them anything to try it anyway. They’ll end up paying us, all right…just three or four months from now.” Every so often, she’d run into clients like that. It was always annoying, but it was especially so this time because she’d been counting on that check to tide her agency over for a while. They could manage until the insurance company paid up, but it would be pretty lean until they did.

  “Well,” she shrugged. “Let’s take care of the other stuff. Amanda, could you tell that security company to send over copies of the contract for me to sign? After that, give me the list of people who want to snoop on their husbands or wives. I think I should tell them personally that I can’t take their cases.” She hated that kind of work. Whether the suspicions were well-founded or not, she would feel a little grimy afterwards.

  “And Jer,” she turned to him, “have a chat with the supermarket people…find out just what it is they think we can do, and how cheap they think we can do it. Get them to show you around one of their stores, too. Take your time. We can go over it when you come back in tomorrow morning.”

 

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