Chapter Five
Deacon eventually returned from his aimless wanderings of their home to find
Gage exactly as he'd left him. The poor fellow didn't have much else to do but
lie there on the floor and Deacon's earlier rage was forgotten as he stood
staring down at the pitiful, weakly struggling figure. He wanted to tell the
man what a good life he could have with The Mistress, but the O-ring prevented
that.
Just like his own failing life, he knew that Mistress Elaina could help the man,
maybe even get his conviction for murder overturned at some point, but at the
very least hide him from the authorities. Deacon had been kneeling at her feet
when she'd done her research earlier in the day and had seen the 'evidence'
against Gage. It was circumstantial at best, with only an unsure eyewitness to
place someone that vaguely resembled Gage leaving the vicinity of the crime at
the time.
There was no DNA, no physical evidence other than a slightly older woman's vague
description for the authorities to go on. Gage's arrest had been a matter of
circumstance as well, with an anonymous tip to a crime stoppers hot line being
the proverbial nail in the coffin so to speak. The caller had given Gage's
name, phone number, address and last known whereabouts only because his
description was remotely similar to that released by the police. His trial had
been quick and condemning, with the prosecutor calling only the coroner, the
eyewitness, and one psychologist to the stand as evidence.
The coroner had testified to the brutality of the murder, the eyewitness had
condemned Gage to conviction with finger pointing, and the psychologist had
testified to having seen Gage for six months the year previous to help him with
anger management. Apparently Gage had had some problems at his work, a
construction company, and had flown off the handle several times in the presence
of his supervisors for various reasons.
Despite his temper though, he was a good worker, loyal and timely and the
company didn't want to loose him as an employee. So they'd opted to pay for his
visits to the doctor instead. Deacon was sure that if the poor man had known
that six months of therapy would condemn him to a life in prison he probably
would have forgone the treatment and just walked away from the job. Like so
many, Deacon included, the failing economy of the time ensured Gage had a need
to keep his job and thus underwent the visits.
Deacon sighed out around the O-ring when Gage gave off a mewling whimper and
wished he could ease the poor man's position, even if only a little bit. Eyeing
a pillow at one end of couch he moved to it and after some doing had it knocked
to the floor. Using his feet, he kicked it along until it was closer to Gage's
helplessly upraised chin. Sliding the cold plate of food aside with his foot,
he maneuvered the pillow underneath Gage's chin and smiled slightly around the
O-ring in his mouth when Gage's grateful gaze rose to his.
He shrugged a second time as if to say, ~It's the best I can do bound as I
am...but you're welcome...~
Gage sighed gratefully as the additional height of the pillow eased up the
strain on his shoulders and neck. He'd never been in such a humiliating
position in his entire life. Bound up like the proverbial Christmas present he
could only lay there, helplessly struggling to reach something that held him and
free himself. The cold plate of food had long been forgotten as the hours
passed, but his erection held even tighter by the noose of rope around his cock
and balls hadn't been.
The pillow only served to reinforce its presence as more of his weight was
rolled back onto his upper thighs and hips. He groaned, though whether it was
out of relief or pain even he couldn't tell. Deacon had disappeared out of his
view again and he could only wonder what circumstances had brought him under the
ladies thumb. If he'd known it had been a willing conversion from free man to
bound slave, he might have wondered as to Deacon's sanity, or lack there of.
But he didn't know that, so he could only lie there and speculate. With no
noise, the TV long having been turned off, and only the bottom of a chair to
stare at, he found himself sinking into a depression he hadn't felt since his
arrest some months before.
From the beginning he'd professed his innocence. Claiming that while he had
indeed been in the area of the murder on that night, he'd only been driving
through the neighborhood and hadn't stopped. Of course, that left him without
any sort of alibi whatsoever, and that combined with the testimony from his
doctor and the eyewitness account of him driving hurriedly away from the scene,
it was enough for a conviction.
Especially with the election of the Prosecutor looming on the horizon, the city
seemed to feel the need to put away an innocent man for good. Gage wasn't
wealthy, far from it, he was a working stiff like anyone else. His parents, god
love them, were borderline poverty, living off the meager retirement his father
had earned from 40 some years of back breaking labor in a plant and his mother's
teacher's retirement.
In the end it amounted to a barely livable income between the two and Gage did
what he could to help. But he had his own bills to pay, or at least he had
until...until that night. Gage had always been a bit high strung. From his
earliest memory he knew he had a temper. But he'd done what he could to control
it; at least most of his life. But there were times, especially when he became
frustrated with something, that his temper would gain a hold of him and he'd
just simply forget how to react, letting his anger and fists do the talking for
him.
In all honesty though, he'd been fortunate that he'd never truly hurt anyone and
it had been mostly the inanimate that had suffered his wrath. Doors, walls,
desks, anything he could punch to release his anger. He'd been honest with the
doctor he'd seen, the one that had been his downfall at the trial, telling him
how he just didn't seem to be able to help himself when he got angry.
His parents, when they had seen their only son dragged away in handcuffs, had
done what they could to help. But it just wasn't enough and the poor public
defender that had gotten his case had been vastly over-whelmed and out matched
by the seasoned prosecutor.
Gage sighed softly around the ball in his mouth and tried to blink away the
tears forming in his eyes. As he'd lain there, he'd given up struggling to free
himself, only hoping that eventually the lady would come home and do it for him.
The first chance he got though he was going to escape, just like he had from the
county jail. As he'd waited all those months in the lock-down for his trial,
believing he'd be proven innocent from the lack of evidence, he'd still kept a
wary eye on the guards and their movements.
While he didn't profess to being the brightest of men; he'd done alright in
life. After high school, he'd gone on to a local community college then worked
his way up to a foreman for the construction company he worked for.
For those first years he'd done well, gaining somewhat of a hold on his own
temper. It wasn't until the added responsibilities of being a foreman had been
placed on him that he found himself getting more and more agitated. More and
more short- tempered, with himself and those that worked for him. Ultimately,
ironically, his own admittance to his temper was his undoing.
But some part of him had watched, learning what he could from his cell and the
other prisoners around him until after his railroaded trial. It wasn't until
after his sentence hearing that he got his chance to escape. He was to be moved
to the Federal Penitentiary the next morning and knew the night he escaped was
going to be his last chance. He waited until the guards had changed shifts,
knowing there were only a few on the nightshift to make his move. After his
meager dinner and the change in shift, he'd stuck his finger down his own throat
and heaved his guts.
Waiting until the guard was making a bed check he began to moan deeply in pain,
folding himself in half on the cot as if he was consumed by cramps. The guard,
maybe because it was an old trick, or because he sensed Gage's desperation
didn't believe his act at first, but with the evidence in the stainless steel
toilet, he didn't have much of a choice. Two of them handcuffed him and half
walked, half dragged him toward the infirmary.
Gage continued to moan deeply, shaking slightly as they moved along the
corridors. He knew, from a recent visit, that the infirmary was set as close to
freedom as he was going to get. Its position allowed the doctors and nurses to
come and go easily without the vigorous checks and gates the normal prisoners
had to endure each time. Once inside he was handcuffed to the bed and the nurse
came to check him over.
The guard's left and Gage sprung into action. Twisting he managed to get his
hands around the young woman's throat, cutting off any cry for help she might
have given.
"Unlock them..." he commanded with a cold, desperate glint in his eyes. He
never would have hurt the young woman, but he couldn't let her know that and he
saw he'd succeeded when she fumbled with the keys. She managed to unlock the
cuffs around his wrists and he rose off the bed, hitting her once square in the
chin to knock her cold. Picking her up gently he'd lain her in the bed and
scooped up her keys.
He'd watched and knew which key would unlock the doors to the outside world and
a moment later he was sliding out and into the darkness of the night. Running
desperately now, he'd managed to skirt the one-story building and onto the
street. His chances of finding a vehicle were slim, but luck was with him as
the SUV he'd ultimately crashed was coming down the street at that exact moment.
Jumping in front of it, the guy behind the wheel slammed on his brakes to avoid
mowing him down. Moving quickly Gage had jerked him out of the driver's side
with a muttered, 'I'm sorry' and took off in the still running vehicle. He
hadn't thought much past his escape, but now that it had happened he knew the
only thing he could do was drive.
Which he did, for all he was worth. Eventually, obviously with help from the
man to whom the SUV belonged, the police caught up to him. What ensued was a
reckless, high-speed chase threw the streets of the city. His only savings
grace was that it had been late at night and there weren't that many others out
at that time.
So that was how he ended up hog-tied on this ladies living room floor. He'd
managed, just briefly to loose the police in the suburb, but he didn't know the
streets and the curve, combined with his high speed had been the downfall for
the top-heavy vehicle. By the time the police had caught up to him again, he
was out of the vehicle and hiding in the bushes next to her front door. His
initial intent was to just stick to the shadows and hide until the police moved
a bit further away, but when she'd opened her door and came strolling out
casually he'd taken the opportunity to slip inside.
If he'd known what he was getting himself into, he would have gladly rose up out
of the bushes and shouted...~HERE I AM...TAKE ME!!~ and gone back to jail
without a fuss.
Any freedom, despite the tiny 10x10 area of his cell, was better than what he'd
endured so far at her hands.
~Or was it?~ his mind wondered. So far, despite the strict bondage she'd put
him into, she truly had been gentle with him. Far more gentle than he had been.
She hadn't threatened him, she hadn't beaten him, and she certainly hadn't shot
him with the gun he'd found in the SUV's glove box. All of those were plusses
in his mind, even though he couldn't move. He suddenly realized that the only
reason he was still hog-tied on the floor was because of his own behavior.
His mind then quizzed him as to what she would have done with him if he hadn't
acted the way he had. Hadn't said the things he had thus far. Would she have
eased up a bit? Let him have some freedom of movement as she had when they'd
come into the living room early in the evening. Granted he'd been forced to
kneel in front of the chair, but she hadn't done anything else beyond that until
he tried to attack her.
The biggest plus was that she hadn't yet turned him back over to the police. He
tried to fathom what that meant, but couldn't because his erection chose that
moment to slam against the floor as her distinguishable scent reached his nose.
He'd been so lost in his thoughts he hadn't heard the front door open again, but
he knew without having to see that it was indeed the lady of the house.
"Has he behaved Deacon?" came her soft question and he heard the rustle of her
silk dress as she came to sit in the chair he'd stared at all night long.
"He has Mistress." Was Deacon's soft reply somewhere in the vicinity of his
upturned knees and ankles. She'd obviously removed his gag, but what else she'd
removed Gage couldn't tell.
"And are you remorseful for your own behavior?" she asked of Deacon next.
"I am Mistress." He returned and Gage could indeed hear the sincerity in his
voice.
"Tell me." She commanded as she crossed her long legs.
"Mistress," Deacon began. "I am sincerely sorry that I removed Gage's gag
before I explained the rules of your house to him. I have failed you and for
that I beg you forgive me and allow me to learn from my own failings to better
serve you in the future." He added with a bowed head.
"Very well, you may go." She stated, a satisfied smile on her face as he rose to
his feet and shuffled out of the room. Her eyes roamed slowly down toward Gage
and the smile faded. "As for you..." she paused, cocking her head to the side.
"I think a night like that will do you just fine. Somehow I doubt if I was to
remove that gag you'd be as sincere as Deacon was."
Before he could move, grunt, squeal, or blink, her long fingered hand reached
out and snapped off the nearby lamp, plunging him into complete darkness.
The rest of the night passed uneventfully. As the minutes ticked by, counted by
the soft ticking of a nearby clock, Gage really began to realize how sorry he
was for what he'd said the evening before. The lady wasn't a "bitch", she was
something...something he couldn't quite put his finger on. But like Deacon, he
wanted to find out what it was.
~No...~ he mentally berated himself in the lonely darkness, ~You need to find
out what it is...what she is...~ he corrected himself. How she could so easily
turn the tables on him, going from a meek, extremely calm and confident hostage,
to a Queen in the space of a few heartbeats.
He thought back over it and realized the exact moment it had happened. It had
been her soft offer of food. There was something underlying in her tone,
something as calm and cool as the rest of her, but commanding at the same time.
Maybe it was the fact that no one, at least not in his recent history, had ever
offered to actually do something for him. Not because they had to, but
seemingly just because they wanted too.
Or it simply could have been her naturally commanding presence. Something he
desperately lacked and had tried so hard in the recent years to gain for
himself, but had failed at miserably. Or it could have been...
He cut the train of thought off before he spent the rest of the night going over
the millions of 'what if...' scenarios. There was no 'what if' here, only the
facts. And the fact of the matter was, he was a convicted felon, destined to
spend the rest of his life in a tiny 10x10 cell in some upstate, desolate
penitentiary. The only savings grace at his sentence hearing had been his lack
of previous criminal record. Sure, he'd had his share of parking and speeding
tickets, what red-blooded American hadn't, but he'd always paid them on time and
there had never been a violent history connected with him.
The judge, thank the gods, had taken that into consideration and merely given
him a life sentence.
~Merely...~ his mind cried out as the tears pooled in his eyes. He couldn't
have stopped the tears even if he'd wanted too just then. Up to this point,
throughout his mockery of a trial and sentencing, he'd calmly held to the hope
that the whole thing was just a bad dream. That he'd wake up back in his bed,
in his apartment, with his cat purring contentedly on his wide chest. But he
hadn't woken up, so he'd begun to bury his emotions deep inside, holding them at
bay and holding onto his sanity with the only thing he had...his anger...his
rage at the circumstances.
But now even that was gone, for at long last, he realized how truly helpless he
was to prevent whatever would happen next. At least in his tiny cell, he had
some modicum of control, however slight, but now, bowed into a tight hog-tie he
realized there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop the strange turn of
events his life had taken. Or would take in the next hours and days.
His soft sobbing cries must have woken her because he heard her soft footfalls
coming down the stairs a moment later. Without a word she came to him, undoing
the rope that held him practically bowed in half. His aching muscles screamed
in agony as his body was at last allowed to stretch out. His mewling cries grew
in volume and intensity as she helped him ease his legs flat.
Moving the pillow from beneath his chin, which he'd flopped on in exhaustion
when the rope was undone, she replaced it with her own legs, easing him onto his
side so his cheek was now pillowed on her rock hard, yet surprisingly soft
thigh. She stroked the side of his face then, as he lay against her crying soft
tears.
"Shhhh..." she whispered softly, stroking his head around the harness of the
gag. "It's alright Gage...it's alright..."
Her words and gentle touch only made him cry all the harder, racking sobs that
shook his wide chest. He was at last free to express the emotions he'd kept
hidden for so long. She shifted again, easily lifting his bound form into her
own strong arms and cradling his weak, boneless body against her warm chest.
"Shhhhh..." she cooed a second time, her voice soft and melodious against the
cheek cradled under her chin. "It's alright Gage..." she added a scant
heartbeat later as he continued to cry like a lost little boy.
Her expert hands undid the straps to the gag, calmly slipping it off his head.
His aching jaw popped back into place and he truly began to cry earnest and
sincere tears. "I'm...so sorry..." he wailed against her neck. "So...sorry..."
he continued to blubber over and over for a long while.
Her soft, gentle hands stroked his back and aching arms. She cooed words of
gentle, meaningless nonsense until his sobs finally quieted and he lay still
against her chest. "Shhhh..." she said a final time, having rocked him slightly
all the while that he cried. "There, there now Gage..." she whispered softly as
she continued to stroke his back, chest and arms. "It's alright." She added one
last time as he lay in her arms. "You're safe now...you're safe..."
There was a long, almost natural silence between them, which he finally dared to
break. He felt a slight shiver course over him, remembering the last time he'd
dared to speak first, but plunged ahead anyway. "What...what are you going to
do..." he asked, the one question that had been burning in his mind for the last
hours.
When she didn't readily answer he feared he might have angered her again and she
was going to put him in that god-awful hog-tie, but finally she sighed softly,
speaking in a low, almost velvety tone. "That all depends on you, Gage."
"Wha...what?" he asked, leaning back as far as he could in her arms to look up
into her face.
She chuckled, a sound he found he'd missed in the last hours, and spent a moment
to gently wipe away the tracks of his tears before speaking. "The way I see
this situation is you have one of two choices." She began, continuing to stroke
his wide, handsome cheek even after the tears were gone.
"You can either A) tell me now that you want to go back to jail. At which
point, I'll let you back to the floor, get up and go call the police. Of course
that brings with it a wealth of additional charges to the murder wrap, but I'm
sure you could have figured that out by now." She informed him coolly.
"Charges?" he croaked out around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat
and the sinking feeling in his stomach. "What charges?
"Well, at the least there's kidnapping and breaking and entering..." she said
with a thoughtful look in the lights from the street outside. "I'm not sure
what they call keeping me hostage, but I'm sure there's some legal term for it."
She said.
"But...but your door was..."
Anything else he might have added was cut off as she placed a gentle finger
against his lips. "We both know the police wouldn't see it that way. After all
you are an armed and dangerous felon Gage..." she said with another of those
telling chuckles.
He took a moment to think that one over and knew without a shadow of a doubt she
was right. The police would indeed see this scenario in a whole different
light. Like his professed innocence, he'd be railroaded into more charges,
quickly and efficiently. "What's...what's option two?"
She reached out and softly stroked the hair out of his eyes, smiling down at
him, her bright white teeth creating a stark contrast in the darkness. "You
stay here with me..." she stated simply.
