Her Submission (12 page)

Her throat still hurt from where he’d squeezed it but that didn’t bother her as much as realizing he’d heard her cry. She wasn’t sure why staying strong was so important, just that not emotionally surrendering was all she had.

Naked except for ropes, leather, and her bra, she forced her knees under her. She tried to stand but without her arms for balance, she fell forward.

“
Keep at it, slave. If you haven’t succeeded by the time I return, you’ll pay the price.”

He was walking away, heading for the room she feared was filled with instruments of torture. Despite that, being alone helped settle her enough that she managed to formulate a plan. Scooting across the room on her knees was hard, but finally she reached the closest recliner. She braced an elbow against the arm and leveraged herself onto her feet.  

“
If I didn’t know better,” he said, “I’d think you were in a hurry for the lesson to begin.”

How long had he been standing in the doorway? Maybe he’d witnessed her awkward and demeaning struggle. After facing him, she stood with her legs widespread, waiting—for what?

Oh god, what was in the canvas bag he was carrying?

“
Trapped, aren’t you?” Looking as if he had all the time in the world to do this one thing, he studied her. His expression had changed from contemplation to all-knowing. All-powerful. “It has to be damn frustrating to know you’d have an equal chance, well at least some kind of chance, if not for what I’ve placed around your wrists. Maybe you could gouge out my eyes or knee me where a man never wants to be kneed.” He reached into the bag and withdrew a short knife. “Maybe you’d bury this in me.”

He started toward her.

Biting down on the miserable gag, she started to back pedal.

“
You don’t want to do that, slave. Making me mad or frustrated will only get you in even more trouble.”

She knew, she just hadn’t been able to silence the instinct for survival. Reminding herself that even though she was his prey he hadn’t crippled her, she forced herself to stand her ground. The knife was a prop, something he’d use to intimidate her, not a killing weapon.

The contemplative look returned. “You interest me. More than I thought you would. There’s something I don’t yet have a handle on going on in that head of yours.”

A compliment? Hardly.

Despite her efforts not to, she tried to twist away when he took hold of the collar ring. He pulled up until she was on her toes. “Stay like that,” he commanded. “Don’t move a damn muscle.”

She took a deep if not calming breath when he let go and fought to keep her legs under her. This wasn’t much different from when he’d left her to take a nap and served as yet another example of how little control she had over the situation. She needed to try to determine what he intended to do. Instead, she stared at the distant and inaccessible door to freedom.

He slipped the knife under her bra between her breasts and started sawing. Too soon it parted. Her breasts were still covered but not by much. Humming, he pulled the cups off her.

Exposed. Useless scraps of material hanging off her shoulders.

“
Not bad at all, and they’re natural. That ups your value.”

My value to whom?

No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t remain on her toes so awkwardly settled onto the balls of her feet. She readied herself for punishment or an angry outburst but neither came. Finally she dared to look down at herself. Her breasts were exposed all right and her nipples—why were they so hard? Was fear alone responsible?

“
I kind of like that look.” He pulled down on the bra cups so they dangled near her armpits. “So close to modesty and yet so far. However, any clothes will get in the way of what I have planned for you so—“ He waved the knife in front of her. “Hold on, slave.”

Staying still while he cut through the bra straps took all her self-control. When he’d done his damage, he yanked the ruined garment off her.

Naked. Nothing left of her life before he’d taken her. Some of her belongings in the back of his truck.

His to do what with?

“
All right. What’s the best way to accomplish this?” He sounded as if he was talking to himself. Shortly before he’d come back downstairs, she’d heard him talking to someone. At first she thought that the other person was in the cabin then decided he’d been on the phone. Did the man or woman on the other end of the line have any idea what his or her
friend
was up to? What if it was someone connected to what he’d referred to as Carnal? Maybe his co-
worker
on his way here.

He again took hold of the ring and hauled her back to the stairs. A fresh whimper lodged in her throat as he reattached the chain and tethered her to the railing. He hadn’t left her enough room to move more than a few inches, and if she tried to look down, the collar would tighten.

After a pat on her right breast, he walked away. Even though she couldn’t see him, her nerves warned her that he was still in the room. All too soon he returned. A soft thud near her feet told her he’d retrieved his pack.

“
They’re more than all right.” He settled his hands over her breasts. “At least that’s how I see them and that’s what matters.”

At first he seemed content to simply cradle her boobs. No matter how hard she tried to emotionally distance herself from the contact, her nipples hardened even more. He’d given her no way to resist, not even a hint of freedom. Maybe that’s what she was responding to, the ultimate in helplessness. Living at the pleasure of and under the control of another human being.

Reality instead of fantasy.

Her captor’s fingers pressed against the tops of her breasts. Bit by bit the pressure increased until, more alarmed than in pain, she stamped her foot.

“
This is what I refer to as establishing a direct conduit between body and mind. I’m also throwing in a sensual element because I want you to remember what that feels like.” His thumbs started stroking her breasts’ undersides. “This might be the last bit of pleasure you’ll experience today so I suggest you enjoy it as much as possible.”

He was going to hurt her more than he already had. The why no longer mattered.

“
Where did you come from little slave? What were you before you became mine?”

Why was he keeping her gagged? Several times now he’d said things that made her think he wanted to carry on a conversation, not that she’d ever do that. Having her mouth stuffed was preferable to having to speak to him—except if she could, she might pepper him with her own questions.

Questions like what made him a monster?

A monster who at the moment was gently running knowing fingers over her too-responsive nipples.

“
These are part of your undoing.” He closed thumbs and forefingers around the hard nubs. “I’ve already brought up your weakness so you’re probably getting tired of hearing about it, but I want you to be knowledgeable about certain things.” He tightened his hold, causing an electrical charge to shoot through her. “I’ve never wanted to do this before but…”

More pressure, the grip inescapable. Unable to concentrate on his words. She started to throw herself to the side. His hold tightened.

“
Yeah,” he muttered as he relaxed his hold a little. “I don’t dare ignore the possibility of negative consequences. Besides, my leg’s only good for so much.”

His leg, something she wasn’t about to forget.

When, to her relief, he released her throbbing nipples, she tried to swallow only to discover her throat was too dry. She was so hungry her stomach kept growling, but that was nothing compared to her thirst. If he intended to keep her alive, eventually he’d have to give her more to drink.

And let her rest.

He’d gotten something out of his bag while she was trying to work saliva into her throat. She risked the collar abrading her neck trying to see what he’d chosen.

More rope. Red in color and soft looking. Draped over his shoulder.

“
I want to learn everything I can about your reactions and responsiveness which means the gag has served its purpose.”

She managed not to move while he unfastened the leather at the back of her head. When he pulled the ball out of her mouth, a trail of saliva hung between the gag and her lips. He caught some of the sticky moisture and rubbed it against a cheek where leather had pressed for so long.

“
I believe we’ll begin with a minimum of rules with regards to vocalization on your part. I won’t stand for begging. Spontaneous expressions of pain are allowable. In fact I’ve always considered that music to my ears. No promises, no threats, no whimpering. In other words, if the sounds you’re considering making don’t come from here—“ He pressed against her breastbone indicating her heart. “you’d be wise to keep them to yourself.”

Don’t do this to me! Dear god, please don’t put me through any more. Unless…

The primitive words were still moving through her when she realized he was waiting for a response. She nodded.

“
A good start.” He tossed the gag away and took the red rope off his shoulder. “Better than I expected in fact.” He shook out the length. “Most captives—by now they’ve lost it. You’re different.”

The moment he reached behind her she guessed what he had in mind. He looped strand after strand around her so the rope pressed down on the tops of her breasts. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but it didn’t matter. Bit by bit he was altering the way her mounds looked, adding to her captivity. After too many loops, he changed the rope’s course so the strands were now under her breasts and pushing up on the swollen flesh.

“
Not bad,” he said, stepping back from her. “I doubt if you’ll agree. What I want you to do is concentrate on how your breasts feel. Be honest. I’ll know if you lie.”

And you’ll punish me for it.
She swallowed. “It’s tight. They’re being pinched.”

“
Then I’ve succeeded, at least in part. A little more work and it’ll be time for you to understand why I’m doing this.”

He was getting something else out of the bag of horrors! Even more unsettling, he didn’t let her see what it was.

His hands, those instruments of pain and pleasure, returned to her breasts. Instead of touching them as she was certain he’d do, he ran yet more rope under the strands already there. With the new rope now between her breasts, he pulled it so tight the over/under loops touched. In essence he’d fashioned a crude bra out of red cord.

“
What’s changed?” he asked as he tied knots.

Caught. Yours. Submitting to you.
“It’s tighter. Squishing my breasts.”

“
Right you are.” He flicked her left nipple. “Can you undo my handiwork?”

I don’t know if I want to.
She tried to shake her upper body. “No.”

“
But you want to.”

“
Yes. Of course I do.”

“
Defiance.” He pinched her right nipple. “Oh yes this is going to be interesting, at least for me. A chance to do what I’m—what I’m good at.”

Had that been a moment of hesitancy? Introspection maybe. If so he wasn’t the only one.

“
By the time I’m done with you today you’ll have begun a break with the old you. The process won’t be complete, far from it, but if you want to say goodbye to the old you, this would be a good time.”

Maybe if she thanked him he’d—

No! She wasn’t ready for that, yet.
 

“
Before we get down to the business at hand,” he said, “I’ve decided to let you look at yourself.”

I already did.

He’d unchained her and guided her back into the small bathroom via a hold on her arm before it dawned on her that he wasn’t dragging her because she’d willingly matched his steps stride for stride. He positioned her in the dark space, then turned on the light.

The first thing she noticed was how limp her hair looked, how haunted her eyes. More than haunted, she acknowledged. There was something else, maybe anticipation.

Could that be?

Yes.

Forcefully dismissing her expression, she turned her attention to her upper body which was all she could see in the high mirror. The collar was so thick it covered most of her neck but fortunately wasn’t choker tight. A large, thick ring was imbedded in it in front. Her elbows stuck out from her sides, her forearms and hands behind her. She just glimpsed the tight, wide leather band around her waist, not that it mattered. Only the red lengths over, under, and between her pinched breasts did. There was something erotic about the way the ropes hugged her flesh. It wasn’t enough that the man had captured her, he’d also taken full control of part of what defined her as a woman, a sexual creature.

Earlier he’d trapped her sex under more proof of his power.

This was no
simple
kidnapping. He’d taken her for one reason—to make her submit to him.

As long as his
tools
remained on her, she couldn’t stop him.

And after?

“
Now do you see why I’ve been calling you a slave?”

It wasn’t a question because they both knew the answer.

Why
she longed to ask.
Why
she needed to know. But he’d punish her if she asked. Maybe he would anyway.

Risking another look at her expression, she wondered if he could see the anticipation in her eyes. That’s what she was seeing, anticipation mixed with dread.

Chapter eight

“
That’s enough.” He clapped his hands. “You can admire yourself later. Back into the living room.”

The cabin looked as if it had been built to survive winter’s fiercest storm. She’d be insane to think she could escape the thick log walls or break the thermopane windows.

This amazing, wonderful-smelling place had become her prison.

When he stopped near the pack he’d left on the floor, she resigned herself to joining him there. Maybe it was seeing her image in the mirror, maybe the feel of rope around her breasts was responsible. Whatever the reason, she now thought of herself as a sexual creature. Rope and leather had claimed chunks of her. She’d lost use of her arms and her bare feet wouldn’t get her far in the wilderness. With the gag gone she could call for help that probably wasn’t out there—until he again silenced her.