"Did he fall in love with you, Natalie?"
Alain could see her visibly shake at the question, and it took a moment for her to respond. She was flustered, a blush reddening her cheek. "Why would you ask that?"
"If you'll please just answer the question," he probed more intently. Seeing that the calm reserve was finally shaken, he could give her no slack now.
"Well, yes, I think so. Maybe. With Perry, it's difficult to know," she eyed him carefully. "He could be as tender as he was vicious. Over time I saw a lot of tenderness. We even laughed, and joked and played around like normal people – other than the fact that I was almost always shackled in some way. But we did read books together, played scrabble and cribbage, commented on current affairs – at least those he allowed me access to. After a couple of years, when he could finally trust me, he liked to pick my brain; he wanted to know what the captivity had done to my ethics and my personal opinions on a range of subjects. He taped a number of those conversations. Maybe he wanted to compare notes down the road, a year or two later when he asked the questions again."
"And did he discuss his findings with you?"
"No. But I often felt like an experiment, as if he was testing me to see how much pain or abuse or humiliation I could tolerate. How much sex…"
"He beat you often?"
Her blush deepened. It was clear that her self-confidence was rapidly disappearing.
"Yes, daily to start," she answered dreamily. "At least twice a week later on…" She stopped then hastily added as if in defense of her captor. "I am a masochist, Captain Danvers, it's not a problem for me."
"Yes, I'm well aware of that."
Of course, he was aware of her masochistic streak.
She smiled self-consciously, then went on, "At one point, he stopped beating me altogether for about six months. I think he was considering letting me go. I never knew what was wrong, but he seemed terribly depressed. Then he suddenly started back up again as if nothing had changed. I never pressed him on anything – you learn that quickly with Perry. He has a terrible temper and is so erratic in his behavior, I think it's a little dangerous." She laughed nervously, "Maybe a lot dangerous. But except for the first few months – and they were brutal – I didn't fear him."
"Did you fall in love with him?"
She shook her head no, bowing slightly. It looked to Alain as if her eyes were filling with tears.
"Honestly?" he probed, more intensely.
"I suppose, yes, I did."
"Eight years is a long time to be with someone," he offered compassionately.
"Yes, and that eight years is like a dream now. Some days I can hardly remember a thing, and others…" She lifted her head to meet Alain's gaze, drawing him into her in the most bizarre of way. "You know, you once worked me over in Ana's old dungeon."
"Yes, I do remember. Ten…eleven years ago. A long time ago."
"I remember it as a very good night," she said. She seemed embarrassed by her own admission. "I don't know why I'm telling you now…just popped into my head I guess. That night was why I agreed to meet with you. I've told very few people what happened with Perry, especially Ana. She thinks I have no interest in kinky sexual sport anymore."
"I think she said that."
"But that's not quite the truth. I could, maybe. With the right man. But I wouldn't seek it out. It's just that sometimes I have cravings, as if my body can't live without the stimulation. Eight years is a long time…and here I'm blushing. I'm sorry."
Was it a proposition? The very last thing he wanted to hear from Natalie Moon. He remembered that night just as she did…a very good one. Why they never connected again, he wasn't certain. Likely work, which was what finally drove him off from submissives and bdsm.
"But you have no interest in Ana?"
"That's hard for me…you have no idea…" The pain in her eyes was strangely reminiscent of what he'd seen in Ana's eyes right after Kat Bloom disappeared.
"Perhaps you want another master?"
"No. No. Not another master." She shook her head. "Perry was enough," although this declaration wasn't particularly believable.
Avoiding all the sticky places he could have taken the conversation, Alain retreated to the purpose at hand. "Do you suppose that Kat Bloom is facing the same man, the same demands that you did?"
"Yes. I think very much the same, but I'm sure Perry has perfected his methods, or at least tried to. He always wanted to build a better slave. I've wondered since, if maybe I reached my limits. He tried with me for so long…but never seemed quite satisfied."
Was it bitterness he heard in her tone? Or just the surprising regret that was clearly evident. "You honestly have no idea where your master could be?"
"None. And, please, he's not my master now."
"You're very right. Exactly how did he leave you?"
She thought a moment, her facing darkening as the memory returned. "One day, he blindfolded me, tied my hands and feet and stuck me in the trunk of his car – just as it was when he abducted me. We drove for miles, for several days. The blindfold never came off so I don't know where we headed, or if we just went in circles. He let me shower in a hotel room…and don't even ask, I did check to see if there were any identifying logos on the soap or towels. But he'd swept the place clean. Anyway, it was back in the trunk the next morning. When we made our final stop, he blindfolded me again and carried me up a flight of stairs to a hotel room. I'd been drugged so I barely remember it happening. I woke the next morning in this dumpy downtown hotel in Baltimore, naked. There was a small backpack of clothes beside me: jeans, a couple t-shirts, and five thousand dollars. Twenties. And a note from Perry…
For all the nights I'll never forget…thanks. Perry.
That's all he said. Eight years and it had come to that. Five thousand dollars sounds like a lot of money. But in exchange for eight years of my life…"
She had a reason to be bitter. "Do you still have the note?"
She shook her head. "My parents made me surrender it to the police. But they couldn't trace a thing."
Alain smiled kindly. "You've been through a lot, and I appreciate your candor. You've been a great help. I think we can agree that Perry Livingston is a genius – a lunatic but a genius. He's as much a mystery to me as he is to everyone else. But I expect to find him and Kat Bloom with him." It sounded as if the interview was over, until he offhandedly threw in another question. "Has Perry by any chance called you since you left him?"
Again, Natalie was startled and could barely answer. "No, no he hasn't. I-I can't imagine…" she stopped.
"Imagine what?"
"I just don't think he would. I mean, I've had my phone tapped ever since I returned, which is why I use a cell phone now instead." She suddenly glanced at her watch. "You know, I really should be getting back to work."
"But if you should hear from him, have any hint that he's trying to contact you…"
"He won't," she jumped in, almost too fiercely.
"But
if
he did," he put her down swiftly with his tone of voice, "or if you recall anything that might lead to his whereabouts, you will let me know."
"Yes, of course." She was starting to rise, then sat back down. She had one last thing she had to say, "She's okay, Chief Danvers. I'm sure of it. I was never in any real danger. And if Perry Livingston is true to form, Kat Bloom will show up eventually. Whether you find her or not, she will resurface."
The end of the interview brought one last longing look from Natalie Moon's shining eyes.
"If you were to …" she started to say, but abruptly stopped.
"If I were to what?"
She blushed again, shook her head and rose to her feet. "Sorry, sir, that I couldn't have been more help."
What he gathered from the conversation, and it was just a gut feeling, was that Natalie Moon was not yet over her fixation on the master who'd held her captive. He could also detect the subtle come-on of a wanting submissive, for it certainly wasn't the first time he'd felt some sub looking for a Dom bait him with such subtleties. If only Miss Shaw had been that restrained…he had to laugh at himself…he might not have paid her any attention.
***
Alain settled into his car before calling Detective David Stover. "Natalie Moon…she bears watching. I don't imagine that Perry Livingston would be stupid enough to contact her, but just to be sure…"
"Yes, sir. We'll be right on it," Stover answered.
***
For nearly a week, Alain had been hanging on to the key to Meredith Shaw's apartment. Loose inside his pocket, it seemed to burn a hole there. He touched it and his body immediately geared itself up for the activities it symbolized. Like an obsession, thoughts of the girl lingered in his psyche all day long, with the idea of using the key to gain access to her apartment never far from his mind. Still, he hadn't acted.
As the day went by, his meeting with Natalie Moon only furthered his obsession. Reacquainting himself with those previously disregarded desires in the form of a woman he'd once had inside that arcane venue stirred up a hornet's nest of perverse thoughts. The realization that it would have taken so little to have Natalie under his reign, so
very
little, was unnerving.
While Alain pondered his own dilemma, he had little idea the effect that key
in his pocket
had on Meredith Shaw. Following his orders, she immediately had the duplicate made and placed it inside an envelope that she deposited in his office mail slot. With that done, she had expected his arrival that very night, and when he didn't show, she was heartbroken. Every night thereafter she expected him to appear, and yet every night she went to bed without hearing the lock turn and the door give way. Her thighs were still wet with anticipation even after the sixth night of futile hopes. Maybe it was good that she no longer worked in his department; his presence would have been paralyzing. She began to wonder if her fixation on Alain Danvers had been what caused her to fail so miserably in her previous position. It was hard to screw up in Records, but then the job was as boring as watching paint dry, which only made her daydreams more appealing.
Nearly a week after she'd handed over the key, she finally took an interoffice call from the Investigations Department and her heart quickly skipped a beat. When she heard Alain Danvers voice, her mouth went dry. When he brusquely delivered his order, her sex responded immediately.
"I need you to meet me at
Paris Grill
as soon as you're finished with work today. 5:30 sharp."
"I'll be there, sir," she barely croaked her reply.
He clicked off without saying more.
***
Meredith Shaw had seen Capt. Alain Danvers a thousand times in the same authoritative position he adopted while sitting at a table in the back of the
Paris Grill. He
might as well have been sitting at the desk in his office. Cool. Collected. Not a nerve out of place while hers were fraying at the seams. She felt like a disheveled mess, having no time after work to fix her hair or clothes or make-up if she planned to meet him on time. Dominant men were very conscious of time and she swore she wouldn't be late. The fact that he was checking his watch when she first caught sight of him in the restaurant unnerved her even more.
"I hope I'm not late." She hastily rushed toward the table.
"Doesn't seem so, Miss Shaw, please sit down. I won't keep you long."
"Oh, that's not a problem. I was beginning to wonder if you were still interested; I mean it's been so many…" she suddenly stopped talking, realizing how silly she sounded.
"Very good," he said patiently. "The less you speak the better."
"Yes, sir," she bowed her head, batting her lashes coyly.
He let her stew under his examining stare for a harrowing interval while he calmly sipped his drink, then finally began: "Have you ever had a serious Dominant submissive relationship, Miss Shaw? I'm not talking about play, I'm talking about an earnest attempt to live out your sexual kink."
"No, sir, not really. It's just been scenes at the X-Club. I mean a couple of times there was talk about it, but…I…" she stopped again.
"Go on."
"It never felt quite right."
"But you think a relationship with me would be different?
"Yes, sir. I think so. I mean I'm not really sure, I guess. But I am hoping."
In all sincerity, he replied, "And I hope so, too." He smiled kindly, then pulled a folded paper from his coat pocket. "You need to read this very carefully, and if you agree, then sign it."
She gazed dumbfounded at the printed document he held in his hand.
"It spells out the rules," he explained, "like a contract. I apologize for its faint attempt to sound official. It obviously cannot be a legal document, but it is one that you should treat with as much respect. Signing it, you give your word that you're serious about our arrangement. I think that will do a great deal to make my domination of you feel authentic. On the other hand, if you don't sign it, that's okay, too. I'm not pressuring you into anything. But I do want to make it clear that this is no game for me."
The touch of his warm hand as he passed the paper over the table almost made her orgasm. Although as she focused on the words before her, she couldn't stop her hands from shaking.
Contractual Agreement:
Between Meredith Shaw and Alain Danvers
In a contract between equal parties, Meredith Shaw agrees to surrender all personal and sexual liberties to Alain Danvers in a Dominant/submissive arrangement. M. Shaw acknowledges entering into this relationship of her own free will, without having been coerced in any way.