Freedom in Chains

by Ann Raina

  Julian swallowed before he could answer. "I was not afraid of him shaving me. It was more…that he would go down on me."

  "You thought I would let him have sex with you?"

  "What should I think for God's sake? You invited a man for a shaving and told me you'd teach me a lesson!"

  "And now?"

  "I'm…I'm not afraid," he confessed quietly.

  Kyra grinned. He was already half erect. "Why am I not surprised? Lift your ass." She let the razor finish his butt cheeks and put it away. Her hands were on him before she thought about it. She had felt the smooth skin of a penis before, but the skin around it was usually covered with hair. Now the hair was gone. It was a sensuous pleasure to feel the smoothness under her fingertips. She parted her lips to breathe silently, but knew he would notice. Closing her eyes made it even better. Her hand felt along him, drawing a breathless moan. What had she thought about punishing him? He had not liked the shaving in the first place, but now… This was wrong somehow. No punishment at all. Her eyes opened. Julian had laid back his head, expecting more, longing for more. She stepped away from him. Her mouth was so dry she had to clear her throat before she could speak. "Enough of that."

  "But…"

  "I said, enough." She opened the straps across his legs and urged him back into his briefs. Her hands were sweaty and she tried to ignore the longing in her lower regions.

  "That's not fair."

  "You were out for punishment, not for…"

  "Sex?" The word contained all of his hurt feelings.

  Kyra cringed. "I did not want this to happen." She shook her head while he got back on his feet. "I truly didn't."

  * * * *

  Oliver opened the door and his happy welcome smile turned to compassion seeing her face. "A hug first then the brandy?" She nodded and relaxed in his hearty embrace. "Did anything go wrong?"

  "Now, what should go wrong in my life?" she asked, still comfortably pressed against his chest. Pierre was there to close the door. "Hi, Pierre, sorry for interrupting your…whatever last time."

  "No big deal." The tall man shrugged. "The waiting makes it all more pleasant."

  "Don't say that." She shivered as Oliver inched backwards with her toward the couch. "You could let me go, Oliver."

  "But I like embracing you. Especially when you need it this much." They collapsed on the couch and, when he looked into her face, she felt instantly better. "Ah, there you are! Now that's a face I like to see. Pierre, a brandy for mademoiselle, a scotch for me. No ice."

  "As you wish." Pierre worked fast and brought the drinks on a silver tray.

  "Thank you." Kyra sipped the brandy and watched Pierre move away. He wore nothing but some straps of leather, which were inviting imagination by covering not more than what was absolutely necessary.

  "You like it?" Oliver asked. "I bought it for him. He's so tall and slender, he needed something to stress his frame."

  "Yeah, right."

  "They do have them in other sizes. I'm on their regular order list, so if you wish I could--"

  "Oliver, no, thanks."

  He gave her a second of pouting lips. "Did you know that he got a job as a stripper in downtown?"

  Kyra choked on her drink and felt stupid. What was bad about such a profession? Her inability to imagine a man dancing on a platform with nothing on but his skin? "No. Not yet. Glad you told me. Congrats, Pierre."

  "Thank you, Ms. Jennings." Pierre was all smile and devotion.

  "Don't gimme the Cheshire cat, Oliver," she growled. "I had a long day, a shouting match between Julian and my workers, and now I shaved him and…and he liked it."

  "Yeah, that's a bad day."

  She slapped his paunch with the back of her hand.

  "Ouch! I was just agreeing with you. But it's nice you used the electric razor again. Or…did you do it with a knife?"

  "Do I look like I know what I do? Yes, laugh about me."

  "So he did not think of it as a punishment. Hmm, the way you use the razor seems more to his liking."

  "He thought you'd do him."

  "Ah, that's it!" He laughed and Pierre at the bar laughed, too. "Now I see." He faced her. "But…isn't that great? You can have him smoothly shaven every time you want. Wasn't it an absolute sensation to touch him?"

  "How do you know I touched him?"

  "You were about to touch him the first time. No big deal, Kyra. It's fine. What did you do?"

  "Nothing else." His face went blank. "I said it was punishment."

  "It was more punishment after the shaving." Oliver chortled again and rose with an effort. "Shall I show you something? I just added it to my collection. Pierre!"

  The young man was gone at once and returned with a long iron bar with four integrated shackles. "Here you go. Where shall I put it?"

  "Down here."

  Kyra joined Oliver, frowning. "Doesn't he have to call you master or something?"

  "It's only like that in stories. I mean, when we play he calls me master, but you only wanted a demonstration, not a full show, right?"

  Kyra swallowed and paled. "Okay, right, not a full show."

  "See. This is a double locking iron." He turned to the young man who waited silently two steps away. "Undress."

  Was there expectation on the man's face? Kyra wanted to rub her eyes to make the picture go away, but the expression remained the same. Pierre took off his clothes. Well, what could be called clothes in the extended meaning. Oliver turned to Kyra, but she was faster. "Stop that glee in your eyes or I'm gonna hit you."

  "That would be something new," he replied, not the least offended. Oliver was hard to offend.

  Gee, and that with that simple, day-to-day lifestyle and everybody loving him! Kyra took a deep breath.

  "You can see a man naked without fainting, right? Though I admit that Pierre is well equipped."

  He was and Kyra did not even try and fight watching his limp penis surrounded by nothing but smooth skin. It would be ridiculous and Pierre obviously enjoyed being looked at. She watched him go down on his knees. He put his hands at his sides and waited patiently for Oliver to close the iron's openings around his ankles and wrists. He was immobilized with his ass up and his forehead resting on the carpet.

  "See? You can whip him now or push something up his ass or…fuck him." Oliver raised his brows at Kyra while Pierre made small moaning sounds.

  She swallowed and her imagination ran away with her. Julian in those bonds…

  "Of course, it's easier if the sub is willing." Her eyes flicked up as if caught. Oliver's grin widened. "The only way I see for you and your sub is to drug him first, put him in the shackles and wait with the fun until he's up again."

  "No. That's impossible. I won't do that."

  "You mean, you don't want to go through the trouble or do you think it's…unfair to force him into it?"

  "To use force. You play it only the way your subs want it, right? I mean, what they allow to be done with them."

  "I surprise them sometimes."

  "But then you got a safe word and they can tell you to stop."

  "That's legitimate, yes, if you have negotiated it before. Pierre trusts me. He wants to submit himself completely and thinks that safe words are superfluous. That they make it too easy on the sub."

  "And if he feels shitty that day and you don't stop?"

  "He'll tell me to go to hell and be more careful with him next time." Oliver smiled and, Pierre, down on the ground, smiled, too.

  "Fine. That's one thing. Maybe if I…" She raised her hand and stopped. The thought alone was punishable. "No, wipe that out. Julian's a delinquent. A worker. That's it."

  "If you say so." He opened the shackles and the slave got up, hardly hiding his disappointment, but Oliver just shook his head. "Pierre, take it back. We talk about that later." He sent Pierre away with a glance that told him not to return too soon. Kyra appreciated his discretion. "He would be a better match than Chris Balfour," Oliver continued as they walked back
to the couch.

  Kyra sat down beside him, her drink warming in her hand. "He's a convict, Oliver. I mean it."

  "That doesn't mean you have to deny yourself all the fun."

  "Yes, it does. I'll keep him under lock and key, I won't grant him too much leeway and hope he obeys my orders."

  "That will truly keep you both out of trouble."

  Kyra carefully avoided Julian's curious stare during dinner. First thought had been to let him eat alone, but that would have been cowardly and so unlike her. She reminded herself that she had wanted a challenge. Okay, she had had no clue about the convict and the way she would think about him, but, hey, maybe he would turn out to be the most hateful hunk she ever met. Until then she would play it cool with him. No more games.

  "Why didn't you use the cane on me again?" he asked when finished eating.

  Kyra's hand with the fork stopped in midair. She looked at her plate, but was aware of him staring at her. "It was no punishment."

  "It hurt!"

  "Not enough." She put the fork in her mouth and glanced at him.

  Julian looked puzzled then, slowly, realization filled his eyes with amusement. "You thought the shaving would be punishment. Because I had resisted it earlier."

  "You got me on this one." She chewed and put down fork and knife. She was still unwilling to meet his eyes.

  Julian laughed, but caught himself when she did not join. "So you'll ask your very apt friend what to do with me next time?"

  She wiped her lips with the napkin and rose. "Let's hope there is no next time. Just work and leave the rest alone."

  "I never had my private parts shaven."

  She took the plates to the dishwasher, blushing and hating it. "Welcome to a new sensation."

  Julian waited, but she did not look at him. "You liked what you did to me."

  "So?"

  "Just curious."

  "Knock yourself out." He laughed again, silently, but not less cheerfully. Kyra felt to have lost the argument. So he liked it, too, fine. Whatever. She did not need to explain her doings. She could do with him what she wanted. The telephone rang just in time to keep her from searching for work in the kitchen. "Hello?"

  "Hi, it's me," Milton Jennings said and that joyous undertone told her there was something coming up. "I just wanted to know if you're all right."

  "Fine, thanks. And you?"

  "Great. Listen, I have to ask you for a favor."

  She had known. Her eyes turned heavenward. "Yes, shoot."

  "There's a reception at the home of Commissioner Marvin. You know him."

  "Yes, I know Marvin Hammer, dad. I had known him even before he became big white chief."

  "Yes, yes, I know. See, your mom sprained her ankle today and can't come with me. Would you, please, join me?"

  "It's a formal reception? With everything that goes with it?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean you in a tux and me in a formal dress, something black?"

  "Yes, yes, right. That's right."

  He seemed nervous, and she asked "Why?"

  He sighed. "Honey, it's complicated. Let's say there's a promotion in the air and I would very much like to grab it. Understand? I need a bit of…support right now."

  "With me in a black dress?"

  "And your charm. So you say yes?"

  "Can't let you go there alone, can I?"

  "Thank you, Kyra. I'll pick you up tomorrow at eight."

  She hung up and turned, blowing out air. Julian sat at the table, elbows on top, his chin resting in his palm. He beamed at her. "You're going to dress up?"

  "Can the grin, Julian. It's not my pleasure, but I have to do it so leave it alone."

  "Not your pleasure? But you were invited to an important reception, right? You look like someone smacked you."

  Kyra sighed. It was heartfelt and did not dampen his mood. His brown eyes were wide and the grin just a curve of his lips away. He had a nice grin, she noticed. "See, my father only takes me because mom can't go. So I'm a piece of decoration on his arm and have to smile through the night. That's all."

  "Do you like to go dancing?"

  She pulled away the table to the other side of the counter. He stood and let her have the chair, too. "Are you trying to get personal again, Julian?"

  "Hey, I would tell you about my life if you asked. What's bad about dancing? I like it."

  "Good for you. If you make it through the five months, you can dance away all night."

  "I will." He sat on the mattress. "And you? Do you go out for dinner or dancing or both?"

  "I used to."

  "But not anymore. So it was Chris--"

  Kyra pushed away a strand of hair from her face. "Stop it, Julian. My private life's none of your business."

  "He seemed very eager to get back into your private life."

  "He can try what he wants." She pushed the chairs with more force than necessary.

  "He…harmed you?"

  Kyra shook her head and waved her finger no. "I said it's none of your business."

  "So he did hurt you. I'm sorry."

  "Are you unable or just too damn stupid to listen?" He held her stare, face neutral, and she felt her anger wither. Damn him, what is he trying to do? She had every right to be angry.

  "I'm not digging into your personal affairs."

  "What do you want to know?"

  Being caught unawares had always been stressful. Kyra had not liked her colleagues to tease her when she could not tease back or when a calm, composed suspect suddenly became violent. No matter what, she was annoyed if she could not anticipate the other's reaction. "Nothing."

  "That's not true."

  "It is." She switched off the main lights. "Anything else?"

  "Aside using the bathroom? No." He cocked his head. "Aren't you at least able to let me have some freedom while being in the bathroom? I promise to not rip off the sink."

  He got her: she smiled. Had I not thought of that on the first day? "Yes, I will leave you some freedom. Foot chains will do. And don't try anything stupid." He closed the cuffs around his ankles and got up. She opened the cuff that kept him at the pillar.

  "I said I tripped and fell."

  "You also said you wanted to shake some sense into me."

  He grimaced and lifted his hands. "Got me red-handed. I'm sorry."

  "Right, you said so." She waited for him to leave the kitchen and remained behind, her heart thundering, and she did not know why.

  CHAPTER 6

  "Just cereals and a banana? That's a tight diet." Julian looked plainly disappointed at the breakfast table, triggering her to smile.

  "There'll be more after the run."

  "Run? Sounds good." He dug the spoon into the bowl and ate. "I don't run frequently. So…how far do you usually run?"

  "A mile."

  "I don't know if it can do that without a break."

  She smiled sweetly. "You'll be chained to me so I will notice if you slow down."

  "Chained? Wait a minute. What's on your mind? How shall this run take place?"

  Kyra swept back her hair over her shoulder. The smile was intact as she licked her lips clean of milk like a cat. "The chains on the handcuffs are long enough. They won't hamper you. And I'll take a chain around your waist to keep you behind me."

  He pushed the bowl back across the table. Milk spilled and the spoon clanked against the rim. "What is it with you? Is your distrust new or something you were born with? Can't you imagine that I will just stay with you?"

  "I make sure you stay." She drank her juice, her gaze never leaving his. "I will feel safer and the people seeing you will also feel safer."

  "That's ridiculous and you know it. I cannot run away!" He put a thumb under the collar. "See that? If I try to outrun you, no matter why, you'll call the police and they're gonna find me within fifteen minutes. So it's totally superfluous to chain me!"

  "It's not. People instantly see the collar and I don't want any nice lady to freak out
because she thinks you're dangerous. And don't deny that!" she added, throwing his contradiction off.

  "I'm not assaulting anyone! I never did."

  Kyra stood and took the bowls to the counter. "No system is ever foolproof! Additionally, the contract demands of me to keep you shackled while I take you from one holding place to another. Which applies to every where I go with you. So it will be as I say. Got that?"

  "Do you really think I have to do everything you say?"

  "Yes." She leaned against the counter and watched him. He sat while she stood, and his position made her taller and more in control. It felt good to control a situation.

  "Don't try to fool me. I've got rights and you can't force me."

  "You forfeit your rights the moment you entered the program. You put yourself under my supervision and you have to obey me."

  "Even in prison the inmates have rights."

  "Stop comparing my home to a prison!" she shouted. "I'm sick of hearing it! You're here, not in a prison! You're in my house! You'll frickin' do what I tell you!" She thrust him the day's issue of the Boston Herald. "And you better be glad that you're here! Headlines say that there are citizens who use the prisoners for crimes or take revenge on them because they think it's right. Some people use them for their dirty work and let them stay in basements without windows!"

  "You truly believe what you say."

  "You have to cooperate for God's sake! This is no debating society."

  "I'm not going to fucking run with you!" He thrust the paper on the floor and the pages scattered. "I won't do it! Not in chains. Not in public! I won't!"