Freedom in Chains

by Ann Raina

  * * * *

  Kyra forced herself to not look over her shoulder if she was followed. There was no chance for her to keep a hitman from shooting. Not with a bodyguard and not by hiding in her house. If he was determined enough he would find a way to sneak up behind her and shoot. So why worry about something you could not change? Yes, why almost pee your pants that you might end in a coroner's bag and be carried to the morgue? The thought of another attempt had ruined her good mood on her father's promotion party, but she could not help it. Her parents had assured her that everything was done to keep the hitman from getting to her, yet the police seemed unable to find him.

  Kyra took Julian for her usual run on Saturday, but chose another route. Gut feeling told her that too much routine would it make easy on the hitman to find her. Maybe she could delay the assault. Her father had urged her to leave town, but she would not abandon her business or Julian for weeks, not knowing when the hitman would be caught. She was not the person to hide like a coward. Maybe it would be better. Maybe it would be in vain.

  The press had gotten a whiff of the escape and put pressure on the police. Harper had suffered a beating from his boss that was so severe he feared for his career. Kyra assumed that her father had helped with that threat--the idea of his daughter being target of the same hitman had changed him into a raging bull. A new detective was in charge now, but the results had been the same. No arrest, not even a lead to the suspect. The theory of the man having fled went round, but Kyra did not believe it.

  She needed distraction and knocked on Oliver's door later that evening. "Oh, that nice young domina from next door!" He bowed then led her into his living room. "In need of a brandy?"

  "A triple, if possible."

  That caused Oliver's brows to hit high. "My, my, Kyra, you got a hard week, hmm?" He brought her the drink and plunked deep into the upholstery. "Do you want to talk about it?"

  "I'm more in need of different thoughts than that someone might be on the loose to blow my brains out."

  Oliver grimaced. "Spare me those images, please, I'm a peaceful citizen." She grinned. He weighed his head. "Very peaceful if you ask my customers. I dare say I'm the most civilized salesman around. I know how to impress my customers. I don't need to press them into buying something."

  "Why not make your hobby your business?" She sipped the brandy and felt better. Calmer. Maybe it was the liquor, but all the more it was her friend's presence.

  "I thought about it, Kyra, but right now, I earn enough money to sustain me and Pierre if he wanted to quit working. So don't give up the day job, hmm? Besides, the majority of business runs through the internet. All shops have at least one address there and ship within twenty-four hours. No indication where it comes from etcetera. Everybody's more anonymous than when going shopping."

  "Being different from the rest is still difficult."

  "Anonymous polls say that more than forty percent of those men and women, who never practiced bondage, would do it if their partners were okay with it." He arched his brows. "Add that to the ten percent, who officially state they're into this game and your theory about majority is as dead as a dodo."

  "I never saw it that way."

  "Sales of bondage items have a plus every year, including men and women in that line of job who offer beatings for money. A day as a slave becomes more and more popular in certain clubs in and around Boston. They might still be regarded as dirty or at least out of line, but let one popular guy or girl walk up the stairs to that club and the rest of them will follow." He leaned back, hands folded over his paunch, smiling contently. "I think the time's ripe for it. At least in New York some celebrities have stated their preferences. They'll give interviews, tell them how much they like whips and paddles, and, whoosh, you have created a new trend."

  "Like you told my mom that leather is coming into fashion."

  "Oh, your mom!" He laughed that his belly shook. "Yes, she got me on the porch, right before my session with Andy's sub. God, for a moment I thought she'd faint, but when I told her that this outfit was latest fashion she got a better grip on herself." He shrugged. "Always glad to teach people."

  "You lied to her," she corrected, but he was not the least embarrassed. "She told that tale at lunch two weeks ago and Julian was almost bursting with laughter."

  "Glad to entertain him, too." He ogled her. "About entertaining. Do you get along with your little rascal?"

  "We laid claims, so to say, but now…" She took a deep breath and nodded once. "We get along."

  "He didn't try to get closer after that Saturday?"

  "No. He behaves himself, but I feel…watched. Scrutinized. He somehow tries to anticipate the right time to make another approach. I don't know yet if I like it or not."

  "Sounds like you need some new inspiration."

  "Oliver, please…"

  "Nothing Oliver, please. Come." He got up and called for Pierre. "I've got something you might find interesting. Not to mention that I can show you my new and improved playroom."

  "New and improved?" she asked, but he did not need to answer when they entered.

  "Soundproof," he stated with a wide grin. "So no matter how hard I swing the whip or how much Pierre wants to scream, we don't freak the neighbors." He stooped to her and added in a confidential whisper, "Not even Mrs. Bickerham."

  "What about your other neighbor?"

  "Mr. van Meers only cares for his little doggy. He's not interested in me or what I do. I don't know if he ever found out that I live with a boy." He patted Pierre's shoulder and Kyra realized that Pierre did not wear more than the absolute minimum. She had to look twice to see that the little pouch at his front, made of light brown silk, matched his skin color so that the illusion of him being in the altogether was perfect. At least on a stage. "Have you ever tried a mask on Julian?"

  "No." She put her hands in the jeans pockets while Pierre hurriedly brought a black leather hood.

  "It's almost complete deprivation," Oliver explained while he pulled it over Pierre's head "He won't see or hear anything. And if you want you can gag him…"

  "Looks like a nifty piece, but it only works if he complies."

  "Then make him!" Oliver grinned. "Push him so far he'd do anything to come." Kyra blushed so hard and fast Oliver's eyes widened. "Oh, you got to that point already? You're very imaginative."

  "He doesn't complain, no."

  Oliver gave her a look of purest jealousy and closed the zipper on the back of Pierre's head. The flaps over the eyes were still open and the gag dangled from a button on the left side of the mouth. "All the better. So if you got him to that point…again, you could offer to either let him hang for a while or allow you to put the hood over him." He closed the flaps and Pierre opened his mouth for the gag. "It's a sensation in itself, Kyra. He can't move, he can't hear or see and he can't stop you with words. If you got him this far you can do everything with him, but…" He made his eyes huge. "You're a caretaking dom and won't do anything he doesn't want to be done."

  Kyra sighed. "I don't know."

  Oliver led his sub to a pillory and fastened head and hands. Kyra heard Pierre's fast breath. The cloth at his groin tightened over his growing shaft. "He followed you this far. He'll have fun with the next step. And the more if…"

  "Oliver, you're not going into show mode now, are you?"

  "If you prolong the session, say, for two hours. Make the teasing slow."

  "He's urging me after a few minutes to stop teasing."

  "You don't have to listen. He's the sub. He doesn't have any rights. Not that moment." Oliver stepped behind Pierre and spread his legs with a sweep of his foot. Instead of petting him and taking care of him, he returned to Kyra at the door. "He has to wait. He has to take what you grant him."

  "And he might be pissed off with me afterwards."

  Oliver granted her a broadside of his smile. "Don't care about it! You can always offer to leave him alone."

  "He wants more than that, Oliver." She stared at
her feet. "He wants to sleep with me. I know it. It won't be for long that the game is over and he wants me for real."

  "Not if you're not okay with that. Using a whip on him and having intercourse are two very different things. You're the dominant female in this partnership. Only what you grant can he get."

  "What about Pierre? Do you let him stand there like this?"

  "Sure." He replied a smile to her puzzlement. "That's the trick, Kyra. Never do something the other expects. Surprise him, make him wonder what is to come. Make him curious." He glanced back. "Pierre is okay with that."

  "I don't think that Julian would be."

  "Maybe not without a bit more…stimulation." He wiggled his brows. "How far are you ready to go aside the no-no to having intercourse?"

  Kyra smiled impishly. "Since when are you able to put such things in such nice words?"

  "Since you shied away from me being too blunt. I want to help. For the first time in your life you got someone who is more than just the average guy who wants to f--take you to bed within a day. So, yes, I support your efforts. Eight weeks are over, you both have settled in your lives. It's time to try something new." He took her back to the living room.

  "When did you…oh, I better don't ask."

  "It's fine. Be curious. What's the question?"

  "When did you find out about your…preferences in sex?" Kyra asked quietly, not sure if she wanted to know.

  "You mean, being the local dom to a few subs who enjoy being whipped before the intercourse?"

  "Well…"

  "My apologies, Kyra, that was blunt. Again. Bad me. But, the answer is simple. I realized rather early that I preferred men over women and a second later I knew that I wanted to tell them what I liked. I wanted control rather than being controlled."

  "That turns you on? Control?"

  "It does. And there are those who--happily, I assure you--give up freedom and control and enjoy it. Some for the time they're here, some forever. Not all of them are into pain, but…hmm, some are." He eyed her. "Tell me that the amount of control does it for you, too."

  "Control is a part of it, yes." She sat down again and tipped the glass to her lips. "But more. Seeing him helpless, depending on me. And if I don't take off the handcuffs…"

  "He can't do shit, right. He delivers himself to you and hopes to be treated nice and fair."

  "If whipping is in any way fair."

  Oliver shook his head. "Cast that way of thinking out of your head. It's fair and all right because both parties agree. He's turned on and you like it, too. However, you got the short end of the stick for there's no intercourse for you. At the moment."

  "I don't know if that moment will come."

  "Don't think about it then. Do you want the hood?" He gave her all innocent eyes, and Kyra nodded, laughing.

  * * * *

  The hood lay in a cupboard in the garage, but Kyra's thoughts returned to it in a loop. She stared at the contract on her desk for the umpteenth time without having read a word. Letters were a blur without meaning and not even a cup of coffee had woken her from the oh so sweet dream of Julian being bound and utterly helpless. She should start placing extra panties at her office. She knew--her mind knew--that she had to function at work. She could not let her thoughts travel down the lane of her bodily desires during daytime. Thinking about Julian and his will to give himself to her kept her from thinking about the hitman and if he was still in town. That was the positive side of it.

  It was useless to try and concentrate. She dropped the pen and her glasses on the contract and stood. "Sabrina, tell Carrie to take over for a few minutes and let's grab a bite."

  "Sure." Sabrina was many things, but undecided did not belong to the list. Unable to make her body comply with high heels was on that list and she almost staggered when she got up and came around the table.

  "New shoes?"

  "Oh, yes, couldn't walk past them." She made eyes at Kyra, hoping for understanding. "You know, they match the blue skirt and the white shirt and the jacket I have. You know the one with the little flowers?"

  They walked downstairs, Kyra swiftly and Sabrina much more careful. The skirt she wore was short and tight, showing her well formed calves. An eye catcher for all male workers, yes, but a bitch for walking. Kyra thought that dressing in pants all of the time should come into fashion. Definitely. Her black dress pants, fitting jacket and slippers were much more comfortable to wear. She waited at the end of the stairway and they entered the cafeteria opposite the packing zone. "You look lovely, but--"

  "But I should get a head start, I know." Sabrina shrugged with a smile. "But I like these shoes. And all the others. They define being female for me."

  "And some fine day flat shoes will be up to date and you'll dump all of these stilettos, right?"

  "Not before I've learned to properly walk with them." She giggled. It was contagious. Kyra could not help but hide her joy behind her hand. The boss should be the boss should be the boss. Not a giggling girlish something the men would never accept. She caught her over boarding hilarity, took a tray and a look around. The women, who printed cards and controlled the output of the machines, sat at one large table. Those, who packed folders, sat at another one. The men from the packing zone occupied a large table and were loudly discussing latest football results. Kyra got a donut, a Danish pastry and a large mug of coffee. Nothing helped better to concentrate than a load of sugar and caffeine. Basic nutrition for a stressful day. Sabrina chose salad and mineral water. Kyra was about to comment on the rather tasteless combination when voices rose at the workers's table.

  She turned, her change from the cashier still in hand. Without knowing what had happened, she was dumbfounded to see Kevin, Brad, and Kevin's new buddy, Manolito, gather at a table at the far end of the aisle. Julian looked up to them, Manolito sneered something she could not understand and Julian reacted to stand and backhand Kevin's buddy in one fluent motion. The next was that the guy went down, crash-landed on a chair and dropped to the floor like a puppet without strings. Kevin just stood there, his eyes glued to the unconscious man on the ground. The other workers were up simultaneously and headed for Julian, who quickly retreated to the wall.

  "Shit!" Kyra cursed under her breath. The change clanked on the tray.

  "You don't want to go between them, do you?" Sabrina called.

  She did not care. Did not stop. Guy things might be guy things, but she would not tolerate them inside her shop. "Stop! All of you!" she shouted when the first men were out to hit Julian. They did not even slow down. Julian deflected the blows, but did not punch back. Two fists hit his face and stomach. He grimaced, standing his ground. She cursed again and ran down the aisle between the tables. The women gaped at her, craning their necks to see the show. "Stop, I said! Get back!" She pushed through the pack of bodies, pushing them hard enough to notice and give way. "Stop! Stop the fight!" Kyra reached Kevin and two others, who were beyond the notion of common sense. She flung a hand at them and, the first one, Tony, tried to grab her wrist. Julian was suddenly there. She only saw a blur of his long arm and Tony cried out, already on his knees. "Stop fighting! All of you!"

  "He's always starting it!" Kevin shouted and shoved Julian back, trying to keep him from Tony. His arm was at an odd angle and one more move would break it.

  "He was not starting it!" Kyra gave back and held her hands out wide as if to separate the groups. But it was one group trying to beat the shit out of one single person. "Julian, let him go." Tony's arm was released and he cradled it with the other. A whimper escaped him and he moved through the line. She heard Julian's hard breathing behind her. "You're out of luck, Kevin," she informed him. "I watched all of the show. Julian wasn't even sitting at your table so how could he start anything if he was out of reach?"

  "Yeah, right, take your lousy King Kong home and into your bed!"

  "That's it. You take the pink slip first, Kevin, and don't ever set foot in my shop again. Tony can leave, too. There's no place for a m
an fighting his boss."

  Voices rose around her, but the men retreated. You can only take so much heat in one moment. No one wanted to be accused of helping Kevin. Everybody knew he was temperamental, but as long as they had not been in his face it had not mattered. Now Kevin would have to leave. And Tony. The others wanted to keep their jobs. There was a lot of shuffling and clanking of glasses and trays until the workers settled back to their noon break or left due to lost appetites.

  Kyra took a deep breath and turned to Julian, who still stood behind her, motionless since he had dropped Tony's wrist. His arms hung at his sides.

  "It's hard to stay out of trouble, hmm?" He relaxed, but his eyes checked the room for further threats. "Imagine that in a prison with four hundred men." He panted and she realized how nervous he was. The cool exterior was nothing but show. He shook his head. "Can you see where this would lead to?"

  "I can hardly see what you'd see." She stepped away from him, gaining back her personal space. She knew the other employees watched her and she would do the devil to give them any sign of a relationship. "But I begin to understand why you avoided prison at all costs."

  "Yes." He gazed at the exit. Kevin's buddy had regained consciousness and was escorted outside. "It would be like this every day. They'd challenge me, try to judge me, try to put me with one group or the other." He exhaled and smiled at her through the still visible strain. "Thanks to you I don't have to go that way."

  "Go back to work."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Kyra returned to Sabrina, who waited with eyes large as saucers. Her makeup, too much of everything as always, gave her the expression of a china doll, minus the rosebud lips. "I cannot believe you pushed yourself between them. They might have hit you! My, they were so agitated. Are you all right?"

  Kyra sat down and tried not to think that her secretary was right. Somehow. Julian had been faster. Sabrina had brought the trays and the money. The coffee was cool now, but still tasty. She took a sip and gazed at the other workers around. Her intervention was appreciated. Good to know. "There's a barrier between men fighting among each other and a woman interfering. They did not dare to hit me." She hoped Sabrina had not seen Tony.