Just as Dak had remembered Collin, the man stood before him impeccably dressed in a three-piece dark blue suit with his overcoat slung over the crook in his arm. With his red tie, he looked like one of those damn politicians.
The last time Dak saw Collin had to have been over seven years ago. Some things had changed. He now had crow’s feet around his dull brown eyes. And his hair, which Dak remembered to be jet-black, had transformed to a mature and distinguished salt-and-pepper shade. Life must have been hard over the last few years for this certified public accountant.
Dak had met him at a munch at Mistress Siren’s house. He seemed firm with his submissive but fair. He would be great with Rebekah. She would need someone who could mold her, but be aware she had some issues to overcome.
“I was surprised to hear from you.” Collin stepped into Dak’s home. “I had heard you weren’t a part of the scene anymore.”
“I’m not. Not really.” He took a few steps back, standing at the crossroads between his kitchen and the hallway to his bedroom. “Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”
Collin shook his head. “It took me almost an hour to get to your place out in the Boondocks.” He glanced at his watch. “I don’t have a lot of time. Where is this submissive?” His eyes widened like a kid at Christmas.
The look of anticipation gave Dak a sense of calm. At least Collin wanted to take on a new submissive. Dak couldn’t handle what it would take to take her on and retrain her.
“She’s back here.” Dak led him to his bedroom.
He hated having to leave Rebekah chained to his bed, but what could he do? She tried escaping every time he’d let her go. She’d bitten his friend when she tried helping her. Keeping her in one spot for this transfer had been the only answer.
Dak stepped into the bedroom, then stopped when he noticed that Rebekah had finally fallen asleep. No use waking a sleeping monster.
To make sure Collin didn’t disturb her, Dak put his finger to his lips to shush him. “There she is,” Dak said in a whisper.
Collin’s bottom jaw unhinged. “That’s her? Is she under all of that hair?” He laughed.
His laughter caused Rebekah to stir a little. Dak pushed Collin out of the room and back into the living room.
“Don’t wake her. She screams a lot.” Although Dak made the statement to warn his former BDSM colleague, the warning seemed to excite him even more.
“Really? A screamer. I’m liking her more and more. What’s her kink?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t had her that long.” Dak couldn’t reveal to Collin his association with SAFE and how he acquired this woman. Although everyone in the local BDSM community knew the group existed, no one knew who volunteered in the organization.
“And why do you have her?” Collin adjusted his glasses on his nose.
“Another Dom couldn’t keep her. Had to leave out of state for a while and couldn’t take her with him.” Damn, he hated comparing Rebekah to some cat that needed a good home.
“And why can’t you keep her?” Suspicion laced Collin’s inquiry.
“I don’t have the time. She needs a lot of work. But I think she’s capable.”
“I bet she is. Can we go back in there? I want to see her tits.”
The crass request made Dak blink.
“Does she have any piercings? I would want her to have her nipples pierced, and maybe her labia. Is her pussy shaved or does she have all of that matted pubic hair?”
Dak crossed his arms over his chest. He knew piercings were big in BDSM. He just hadn’t thought Collin looked for submissives with body jewelry. Rebekah seemed like a strong young woman. If she could bite his friend, then she could take a few piercings. Something about his query on her pubic hair sent an odd tickling sensation in his stomach.
“So I guess that means you want her, right?” This handoff shouldn’t be this arduous or take this long. Dak had work to do. The faster he got rid of Rebekah, the happier he would be.
“Of course I want her.”
Dak nodded and headed back to the bedroom. He would have to be careful and quick to get her out of her cuffs and corral her into Collin’s vehicle. With her gone, he could go back to living his staid and boring life.
“I’ve never had one of those before,” Collin said as he followed Dak.
“One of what? A submissive?” Dak had seen Collin with submissives at Siren’s house before. Maybe the man meant that although he’s had submissives with him, he’d never owned one. Doms did that a lot. Play with subs or bottoms without the hassle of owning them. Dak had done that many times before.
“No, I’ve never had a black one.”
The statement made all of the hairs all over Dak’s body stand on end. He froze in the bedroom doorway, then turned to the man. “What difference does it make if she’s black or white?”
Collin smiled and chuckled a bit. “Come on. The whole black and white thing. She being the submissive. The whole Master/slave thing. I could really mess with her head. I wonder if calling her the N-word would make her crazy.”
Dak put his fists to his hips as he squared off in front of Collin.
“Don’t give me that look.” Collin wagged his finger in Dak’s face. “I’m not a racist. You know as well as I do that BDSM is about mind games. I would just be fucking with her head. Besides, I hear black women love to fuck. What’s her body like? Does she have one of those juicy asses that you can—”
“Get out.” Dak understood mind games. Racism, hiding behind the guise of BDSM play, wouldn’t fly with him.
Whether Dak could handle Rebekah or not, he wouldn’t be subjecting her to this asshole.
“What? Are you kidding me?”
Dak didn’t stop to answer him. He snatched Collin by the back of his neck and pulled him to the front door. With one hard shove, he pushed him out of his house.
“I drove all this way just so you can kick me out? Are you insane?”
“I must have been to have called you. Rebekah is not available.” Dak swallowed hard before finishing his statement. “I’m her Dom. I’m keeping her.”
“You son of a—”
Dak slammed the door before Collin could finish his insult.
What the hell had he done? Keeping her meant he would be responsible for her well-being, her life. He would have to take care of her, which meant retraining her. That just opened his world up to new level of distraction that, quite frankly, he didn’t need.
After what he’d experienced with Collin, he knew he couldn’t just let her go with anyone. He’d saved her from Blade. He didn’t want to have to save her again from Master Asshole.
Now Dak knew why he left Gordon in charge of putting the saved subs into new BDSM homes.
Before feeding Rebekah, he had a huge project to undertake.
Dak went down into the back room, the one he’d once used to use as a dungeon. He scanned the area and nodded. He could make this work. He could make it possible for Rebekah to have her independence, walk around, express herself, and not be chained up to his bed. He took off his flannel shirt.
“Time to get to work.”
Chapter Six
Rebekah found that sleep kept her mind off the gnawing empty pit in her stomach. If she turned her head right, she thought she could smell something in the air.
Since she bit that strange woman earlier that morning, Dak had made one more attempt to feed her. He’d come back after the woman left, wearing jeans and a white T-shirt that let Rebekah see the full expanse of his shoulders. The way he walked toward her, or rather marched, she could tell he must have had a military background like her father. The thought that Dak could be anything like that man sent an Arctic shiver up her spine.
After refusing to eat again, Dak took her to the bathroom. Although he didn’t exactly watch her, he didn’t leave her alone. He kept his back to her and stole little glances in the mirror while she relieved herself.
He helped brush her teeth and offered to bathe her,
but she declined. Her stubbornness also required her to reject the food he’d offered her. Instead of pushing the issue, Dak cuffed her to the bed again. For several hours, she heard nothing but banging, clanging, and other loud noises coming from the other end of the house.
Rebekah had no idea what Dak had planned. Her mind tripped on different scenarios. Did he plan on moving and leaving her in the house? Or did he have something more devious in mind?
To forget about the noises and her hunger, Rebekah took a short nap. At least, she thought the slumber hadn’t lasted for very long, maybe thirty minutes or even an hour. Dak woke her at lunchtime.
Rebekah turned to the clock on the side of the bed. Twelve-thirty. God, she had slept a while.
“Come on, sleepyhead. I have a surprise for you.” He removed the handcuffs from her wrists.
Rebekah started to head to the bathroom. Within the couple of days that he had her, she already knew his routine. He would take her to the bathroom then try to feed her. Always in that order. In that time, he never stopped to talk to her. She couldn’t blame him. She hadn’t been chatty, either.
“No, no. This way.” He stood behind her and held onto her shoulders.
When they got to the main portion of the house, Rebekah couldn’t help but look at the front door. Light streamed in through the large front window. Much like the bedroom, he had the room sparsely decorated. The décor looked very old-fashioned.
Rebekah must have made a slight turn to the room. Dak’s hands clamped down on her shoulders harder. Her knees buckled under his physical control. Dak hadn’t hurt her, but she knew with his strong hands that he could. She swallowed.
“Oh, no, you don’t.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her off the floor. The longer he walked, the more her heart pounded. What if Dak had his own drawer where he wanted to enclose her?
She kicked her feet back and forth as he carried her through the kitchen and down to another room, a darker room. Master Blade didn’t think she could fight? This time she would kick and claw her way out of a bad situation. She didn’t want to be taken from Master Blade just to be thrust in another horrible situation.
With his elbow, Dak flicked on a light. Rebekah had to blink, not to adjust her eyesight to the shift in lighting, but to take in the whole scene.
“Ta-da. Here you are. What do you think?” Dak walked Rebekah into a whole new prison, her own cell.
The jail bars grabbed her attention first. This couldn’t be real. What sane person possessed a miniature jail cell in their home? Then again, she’d just left a house where a man had a whole dungeon in his.
When Dak walked her inside of it, she took in all that it contained. A small bed sat under a modest window that had blinds covering it and lace curtains surrounding it. A short but solid dresser and a nightstand flanked the bed. A light snagged her attention. When she turned to see where it came from, it surprised her to find a small bathroom.
“Go on. Check it out.” Dak nudged her toward the room.
Rebekah tiptoed to the bathroom as though snakes would pop out of it. Inside she found a pedestal sink, a toilet, and a shower stall.
“I hadn’t used that room in years.” Dak chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “I had to make sure everything worked first. While you’re with me, you’ll stay in here. No more being chained up in my bed.”
She glanced behind him at the doorway to the cell. He must have caught her averted gaze. Just as she ran for the doorway, Dak blocked her.
“I have a key.” He took a step back and closed the door with a thud.
To test its strength, Rebekah shook the door. Nothing moved. She checked out the framing and saw that the corners of the cell were secured with steel rods that were cemented into the ground.
The window. Rebekah ran to the window over her bed.
“You can open it, but break it and you’ll be freezing your ass off,” Dak said from behind her as she stood on the bed.
Rebekah quickly saw what he meant. Bars lined the outside of the window. She climbed down from the bed and slumped down on it.
“Why are you doing this? Why do you even care what happens?” She positioned herself on her side and curled her feet up on the bed.
“Call me crazy, but I think there’s something in you that’s worth saving.”
She stared at him to gauge his sincerity. His face never broke, and he connected with her stare fully. This man meant business.
“I will come down here every day and feed you breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” Dak glanced at his watch. “As a matter of fact, I’m late for lunch. We’re having chili and homemade bread.”
“You bake bread?” Rebekah couldn’t help but ask.
“Is there a problem with that?”
She covered her mouth to prevent him from seeing her smile. From the way he rubbed the back of his head, he must have caught it. He winced when he touched his head the second time. She wanted so much to ask him how he felt, but he probably wouldn’t tell her. Or worse yet, he would tell her and punish her for it.
“While you’re here, I’ll try to work from home as much as possible. You can catch me outside in the backyard.”
“What do you do?” She stood from the bed, but didn’t move close to the bars yet.
Dak cleared his throat and acted as though she hadn’t just asked him a personal question. “I heat my house with a wood-burning stove.”
When he didn’t answer her simple inquiry, Rebekah’s heart sank. She thought he would open himself up to her. Guess the revelation about his bread baking would be all he would share that day.
“The stove is upstairs outside the kitchen so I’ll be sure to keep the door open so that you get some heat. Also”—he took a step back—“there’s a TV on the outside of the bars. It’s voice-activated.” He looked at her. “Try it. Say ‘on.’”
Rebekah stared at him like he’d come from another planet.
He put his hands to his hips.
The gesture scared her enough for her to do his request. “On.”
The flat screen TV that hung from the ceiling flickered to a news station.
“To change the channels, you can either announce the channel or just say shuffle.”
Intrigued, Rebekah said, “Shuffle.”
As Dak had said, the TV flipped over each channel, holding on each for about three seconds before moving to the next.
Rebekah smiled. “Channel thirteen.”
A one and a three populated the top right-hand corner of the screen before changing to that channel.
“That’s amazing!” She got closer to the bars.
“Yeah, it would be if it were true.” From behind Dak’s back he pulled out a small remote control. “But you looked so excited to see the channels going, I couldn’t resist.”
“I can’t believe I fell for that one.”
The smile drifted from Dak’s face, and he stared at her for a long time.
“What?” Rebekah sought the security of her new bed.
“I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard you refer to yourself as ‘I’ instead of ‘This Slave.’ I like it.”
Rebekah didn’t. She didn’t like that she now thought of herself as a Rebekah and not as This Slave…or her real name. His spanking hadn’t hurt as bad as she had expected. She liked the feeling of his large hand on her body, taking control of her, owning her. Had he held her afterward like he wanted, she would have done anything he requested and more.
She’d only been with Dak a day, and she already felt herself changing, and that scared her. It had taken a full three months before she felt comfortable enough to even trust Master Blade. She wished in that time that she’d come to her senses and left...if she had somewhere else to go.
“Since I can’t get you to another Dom or Domme to be retrained, I’m going to do it.”
That announcement made Rebekah bolt to her feet. “You can’t be serious.”
Dak blinked. “Why not?”
> “You’re not a Dom. You could hurt me.”
“More than Master Blade did? Not likely.” He shook his head. “Every time you learn something new, I’ll reward you. Don’t ask what the rewards will be. I haven’t figured that out. But trust me, you’ll like it. And the more you learn, the more freedom you’ll get. BDSM is about trust and respect. If you trust me, I’m hoping you’ll respect me enough to not leave.”
She regarded him for a moment. She’d never heard a Dom talk like this. Were all Doms really like him or more like Master Blade?
Dak disappeared upstairs.
Rebekah assumed Dak worked in the kitchen when she kept hearing clinking glasses and dishes. She heard him coming back downstairs with a tray in his hands.
“Lunch is served.” While balancing the tray in one hand, he unlocked the cell door with the other. Standing at the opened door, he held up the tray.
Rebekah didn’t move. He’d created a wonderful space for her. Master Blade had never done anything like that for her. He’d forced her to sleep in a dog bed at the foot of his bed. He’d had a collar around her neck and wrist at all times, except when she had to be in the drawer. Aside from “This Slave,” the only other names he’d called her were “bitch,” “whore,” and “idiot.”
She’d done herself a huge disservice by answering to those names. What could she do? As a submissive, she had to take everything her master dished out, right?
Dak seemed genuine in wanting to help her, gave Rebekah her own space, and even tried feeding her good food. A little voice inside of her kept screaming that something too good to be true couldn’t be trusted.
Rebekah sat back down on the bed.
A scowl covered Dak’s face. “I’m not going to beg you to eat. We both know you’re hungry. I really do want to help you.”
“I don’t trust you.”
Dak backed out of the cell, closing the door behind him. “Fair enough. I guess I’ll just have to show you that you can trust me.”
When Dak disappeared upstairs again, Rebekah wondered what he would do to change her perception. So far, she liked him and all of the concessions he’d made for her. What could he do to change her mind, make her trust him?
Woman In Chains Page 8