Dak must have noticed her hesitation. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I understand.”
They sat in silence for a while before Rebekah finally said, “I got up every morning at five to make him his breakfast.”
To give her his full attention, Dak stopped eating and sat back as she spoke.
“He liked eggs over medium, white toast slightly burnt, strong coffee, and fried bologna. If I don’t smell that stuff for the rest of my life, I can die happy.”
Dak laughed.
Rebekah cleared her throat. “He liked for me to, um, give him manual stimulation in the mornings.” She rubbed the back of her neck and ate more of her soup, hoping it would give her the strength to keep going.
“That’s enough.”
“I’m fine.” She smiled. “He’s impotent. He couldn’t get a hard-on if he had twenty naked virgins around him.”
Dak covered his mouth and did his level best not to laugh. “How absolutely embarrassing. Please keep going.”
Rebekah laughed so hard she had to stop eating. When she composed herself, she continued. “He was a hard Dom.”
“Not entirely.” This time Dak did burst into laughter.
“He liked order and discipline. If he felt I did anything out of order, he was very rough with me.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t imagine what he would do to me if he knew what I told you.”
“Hence why you’re here today.”
Out of habit, she opened her mouth to defend Master Blade, but she couldn’t defend the man’s actions. Someone at a play party saw how rough Master Blade had been with her and had intervened. That person had jumped the gun, didn’t know her or her background. She could take care of herself.
“So how do you know Master Blade?” She took a sip of her tea. So good. She’d never known a man who could make such good tea.
“We used to travel around the same circles.”
Every time Dak talked to her, he stared her in the eyes. When he answered her question this time, he didn’t. Maybe it didn’t mean anything.
“How did you get into being a Dom?” She finished off her soup and wiped her mouth.
“I’ve always been curious about the Lifestyle, but I really got into it and started training when I was in the service.” Dak finished off his sandwich in about three large bites.
“What branch?”
“Navy.”
Rebekah raised her hand. “Army brat here.”
“Really?”
She nodded.
“Hard to make friends when you move around so much, huh?”
Rebekah fixed her gaze on him, wondering if he had a gift of telepathy along with his ability of creating delicious tea.
Again, like he had read her mind, he said, “When I asked you your name and asked if your friends from school had a nickname for you, you said you had no friends.”
“Good memory.” She gazed at him. “You’re very, very good.” If she didn’t know any better, she could have sworn Dak growled at her assessment.
“So why don’t you have a submissive or slave now?” she asked.
“My last one decided my dominating style wasn’t for her. She preferred a Dom who only thinks of himself.”
“Aren’t all Doms and Dommes like that? It is all about you. I serve you.”
Dak stopped stirring in his tea at her statement. “A good Dom or Domme listens to his or her submissive. Yes, you’re serving our needs. But if we don’t know what it is you want to push you, then we’re not doing you any favors. There has to be a give and take.”
“I like that description of a good Dom/sub relationship.” She liked it almost as much as she liked kissing him.
Recalling how his firm lips had captured hers accelerated her pulse, which scared her. Then she recalled his hard body, the way his thick, corded muscles in his arms captured her when he held her. When she coasted her hand down his body and over that impressive package, she wanted to strip off the shirt she wore and have him take her right there and then.
Since when do submissives have romantic thoughts about their masters?
She expected to have sexual thoughts. Maybe she needed to let down her guard and let Dak help her figure that out.
Dak picked up his bowl and plate and took them to the kitchen. When he came back, he stood at the doorway. “Why did you do what you did for me when the officer was here? You got out of the cell. You could have turned me in, had me arrested, had your freedom. Why?”
Rebekah stood. “I heard the way he talked to you, how he said he no longer believed you could be something you wanted to be. I’ve been there.” She picked up her bowl and plate, and sauntered to the door to Dak. “The trick is being strong…like me.”
He accepted the dishes from her. “You? Strong? When I first saw you, you were petrified in a drawer.”
“But—”
“You want strength, I can give that to you.”
“Through training?”
“My training.”
In total obedience, she took a couple of steps back and knelt down before him. Dak closed and locked the door. After she’d managed to escape and come back to him, he still didn’t trust her.
“I’ll be back at dinnertime. We’ll do a lesson then.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“By the way, I hope Walton doesn’t talk to my primary care physician any time soon. He would find out quick that I had a vasectomy about ten years ago.”
“Oh.”
“But I appreciate your quick thinking.”
As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Dak had managed to make her change her perception of the BDSM lifestyle and him. Now she wondered if she could even leave him after this training session ended…and would he let her go?
****
Dak paced in his bedroom as he waited for Gordon to pick up. “Come on. Pick up the damn phone.”
The manager at Gordon’s hardware store said her boss had been gone for almost a week, and she had no idea when he would be back. She did offer a tiny glimmer of hope in the fact that, in a crisis, she’d been able to reach him by his cell phone.
Dak qualified his situation as being in crisis mode. He hadn’t expected to be back into the SAFE business again. He hadn’t thought he would be asked to snatch the slave of a man who had retrained and apparently severely injured Dak’s last sub. He had not expected the feelings that started to bubble inside of him to surface.
As much as Dak wanted to blame it on the kiss she’d put on him in front of the officer, he had started to feel something way before that.
Her eyes. Those damn eyes got him every time. One minute she could look so sad like she didn’t have a friend in the world. Then the next minute, she had a sexy, wanton look. Other times she looked like she wanted to rip off his head.
Even if she became his full-time submissive, sleeping with her would be so detrimental since they hadn’t fully established a trusting relationship.
He should have told her the truth about his last submissive, that Master Blade had had her, and that Dak’s whole reason for wanting to save Rebekah had been to take something from him. He didn’t want to come off looking as sorry as Blade. Once Dak got Rebekah to really see that could be so much better for her than Blade, he could tell her the truth.
At the third attempt at calling Gordon, and the third time his voicemail kicked on, Dak didn’t disconnect the call. He would leave his thoughts on the message.
“You are a piece of work, Gordon. You had better call me about Rebekah, shit, I mean This Slave. I don’t know how much longer I can take her.” Dak let out a long sigh. “And if your disappearance is about Scott, then call me. Just call me now.” He disconnected the call.
Hours after dinner, Dak decided now would be the time to give Rebekah her first hands-on training session. Working with Cress the other night had been a wonderful way to jumpstart Dak’s old technique. He couldn’t push himself too far. No whips or fire play…at least not today.
Af
ter stripping down to just a shirt, jeans, and his work boots, Dak strolled down to the back room where he found Rebekah in bed, on her side with her back to him. To get her attention before he opened the cage door, he cleared his throat.
In a sultry move that had Dak staring at Rebekah like a lover and not as submissive to train, she extended her leg and planted her foot onto the floor. Then she combed her fingers through her curly hair. When she stood, Dak couldn’t help but scan her body. Even hidden under her bulky clothing, she captured his attention.
She lowered herself onto her knees, but stared directly into his eyes, never breaking contact.
“Up.” Pivoting on his heel, he marched to the controls for the vertical bar.
Dak had thought about what to do for Rebekah all day. Although he’d gone at it hard with Cressida, he would take a note from Moira and actually take it easy on Rebekah so as not to further traumatize her. Rebekah needed to feel cherished, like no one else in the world could be in the spot she stood right now but her.
When he turned to her, Dak stared at Rebekah for a moment. As a Dom, he couldn’t sugarcoat what he wanted her to do. “Take off your clothes.”
She balled her hands into fists. Then she curled her toes into the carpeted floor.
When she hesitated disrobing, Dak gave her a stare that he hoped screamed that he should not have to repeat himself. It took Dak taking a step toward her to prompt her to undress.
She stripped off her pants first. In a slow, easy motion, she tugged on the sides. Once the garment piled around her feet, she stepped out of it. He watched her take a deep breath before pulling her shirt over her head.
In the full light, Dak scanned her body. Beyond just her full, rounded breasts with their chocolate brown nipples and her pussy with tufts of curly hair, he noticed so much more about her.
Even with her wide shoulders, Rebekah kept them curved down. Submissive or not, she should always stand tall with her head held high. A submissive should be proud to serve and exude that to anyone observing. If Rebekah had been his full-time submissive, he wouldn’t have accepted anything less.
The swell of her voluptuous hips should have been enough to ensnare anyone’s attention. She kept her stance squared off like she mimicked a pillar.
He had seen her looking sultry before, like when she’d grabbed him and kissed him in front of Walton. The ghost of her still lingered. At odd moments, Dak could still feel her full body pressing against him. Her musky aroma permeated his nose and remained there, torturing him. That damn kiss changed everything. This woman had to recognize her power.
“Hands up.” Dak pulled down the wrist straps connected to the vertical bar.
For that request, Rebekah didn’t hesitate. She raised her arms with her back to him. In that position, Dak admired her plump backside. He licked his lips.
“Do you know how to operate the panic releases? Do you remember how they work when Mouse and I showed you?” Dak bound her wrists into the restraints, purposefully placing her fingers on the clips.
“Yes, Sir. I know how they work.”
He didn’t know what prompted her, but she activated a clip on one hand. Maintaining control of her and the situation, Dak immediately held her free hand and brought it back up to the bar where he secured her again.
Trying not the scare her, he didn’t scold her for freeing her hand. If she felt afraid or unsafe, she had to know she could escape the situation.
Dak walked to the control panel again and raised the bar just enough so that Rebekah’s feet barely touched the floor. As though she ran on a cloud, she waved her feet back and forth in small motions.
After checking Rebekah’s comfort level, Dak retrieved a bag he had left outside of Rebekah’s cell. In a dramatic move, he plopped the bag on the short nightstand. He unzipped it and parted the flaps to scan the contents. Although his whips, floggers, and paddles sat on top, Dak dug deep into the bag and pulled out a long, red feather.
When he faced Rebekah, he watched her blink hard as she volleyed her gaze from Dak to the feather that he held.
“Your safe word is ‘red,’ understand?” Dak stayed silent and immobile until Rebekah nodded her head. “Unacceptable, Rebekah. As a Dom, I want to hear what you have to say. Yes or no, do you understand?”
Rebekah cleared her throat. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” Dak might be a hard-ass, but he wouldn’t apologize for being particular about how he wanted things done.
“Yes, I understand.” Rebekah adjusted her grips around the foam-padded bar attached to the wrist straps.
“Yes, you understand, what?” How Rebekah addressed Dak matched the importance of the discipline itself.
No matter if she served him or not, or whether she eventually served one Dom or Domme, in a group setting, she would have to address other Doms and Dommes properly. He had to teach her the proper ways of acting within the lifestyle.
Rebekah swallowed hard. “Yes, I understand, Master Dak.” She averted her gaze after her statement.
“Tonight, I’m going to awaken your senses.” Dak held up the feather, but with Rebekah’s attention elsewhere, the display had no impact. “I’m thinking that anyone who was punished by being locked in a drawer would like all of this attention.”
Something he said triggered a fierce response. She brought her attention back to Dak, but the scared expression had vanished. He found fire in her glare.
“Just like you locked me in this cage?” She gripped the links in her wrist restraints so hard that it squeaked under her manipulation.
“There’s a difference.”
“There always is.”
Dak almost laughed at her snappy comeback.
“Master Blade didn’t lock me in a drawer.” When she returned her attention to Dak, she broke her attention long enough to stare at the feather again.
Dak circled her, then settled himself behind her. “You were locked. That’s how I found you when Blade wasn’t home.”
Rebekah gasped, and Dak couldn’t tell if the reaction stemmed from his revelation or from the feather’s first contact to her bare flesh. He brushed the fine red hairs over her arms, then down her back.
During the sensual caressing, Dak didn’t speak. At this time, he just wanted Rebekah to be in the moment, capture the feeling of being wanted and cherished by a Dom. Although he had little expectation that Rebekah would cross over to subspace, Dak would still push her. Pushing her meant pushing himself.
****
Determined not to be swayed, good or bad, by anything Dak did to her, Rebekah ground her teeth and went so far as to squeeze her eyes shut. No matter what he did and how good it felt to have her body worshipped like this, she wouldn’t be convinced that Dak could be some knight in shining armor on a white horse. Damn, the feather stroking felt amazing.
Rebekah could almost feel her nerves rising to the surface of her skin in the hopes of being touched by Dak’s feather. She gripped the handles in her wrist straps as soon as Dak swept the feather down the backs of her legs and over her calves.
Not wanting to, she jerked her legs up and down as soon as he touched her. Her breathing increased to a full-on pant. Her heart did a double-time beat in her chest.
Rebekah leaned her head back to gather herself. BDSM she’d been exposed to didn’t involve feathers and silence. Her experience contained screaming and yelling. Pain and degradation came as a part of the package. Her involvement seemed wrapped in hatred. Dak didn’t hate her enough to give her what she wanted. Maybe what Dak wanted her to see that she didn’t need to be hated to be satisfied. What a novel concept.
She brought her head up and found Dak now standing in front of her. He dusted the feather down the front of her arms.
“No.” Rebekah felt her lips go tight after she declared her refusal of this treatment.
Dak didn’t stop moving the feather. “You know the safe word.”
He crossed the feather over her chest. With only the tip, he circled one nipple, then th
e other. Her nipples hardened so much that the feeling became painful, but in such a good way. She rubbed her face against her arm to wipe away sweat rolling down her face. As she did this, Dak circled her breasts in an infinity pattern, going over one breast, then under the other, then back over again.
Rebekah’s body reacted more. Even with her legs crossed, her essence dripped onto the plastic that Dak had placed under her. She heard a few drops and tried peering down, but couldn’t. Dak, on the other hand, did not glance down at all. He kept his stare directly on her as he made sure to awaken all of her senses.
“Stop.”
“If you aren’t going to utter the safe word, don’t say anything negative again, or you will be punished, understand?” In a masterful move, he slid his hand in between her legs and pried them apart. Dak started to brush her body again, but stopped. “I said, do you understand?”
She glared at him. If not answering him showed signs of rejection, then so be it. She wouldn’t utter his safe word. She wouldn’t do anything he wanted.
“Oh, now you’re giving me the silent treatment.” Dak nodded as he went to the bag holding all of his toys.
He pulled out a fur-covered paddle. Just like with the feather, he coasted the soft pelt over her body starting with her arms. He smoothed it down to her neck where he crossed over it and brushed down her sensitive breasts.
“This works better when I have you tied down to a platform.” Dak moved the paddle over her stomach.
The feeling sent a shiver over Rebekah’s body. She twitched as soon as he used the paddle to touch her thighs.
“Do you like this, Rebekah?”
Silence. Dak could do what he wanted with her body, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing what she liked. Even if being treasured turned her on immensely, she wouldn’t let Dak know. He couldn’t have everything.
“Are you going to answer me?” Standing in front of her, he coasted the paddle around her body so that he could stroke her back and her ass cheeks.
The soft caress caught her breath. A moan threatened to escape her mouth right at the time Dak pressed his body against hers, wrapped one arm around her waist, and dropped the paddle to the floor. As soon as she opened her eyes, Dak gave her one solid smack to her ass.
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