A Night in the Desert

Chapter XIX

She watched him leave, then turned to her task. She moved the catalogs to one side and picked up his printout first. It described the number and types of outfits she should look for, and his restrictions on the style. She had a good idea of what he was looking for, so she opened the first catalog and started looking through the women's wear section. She took a piece of paper out of the desk drawer and began making a few notes about items to look at again.

Every time she shifted in the chair she felt the tug of the leg chain, reminding her of her status. She stopped and looked under the desk. Below the bottom shelf on the floor was an unobtrusive ring that could fold down when not in use. Right now it was upright, with one of the leg cuffs through it, anchoring her to the desk area. Standing up, she pulled on the chain to test the length. It came out far enough for her to stand next to the desk but that was all, far short of the door, but she could reach the filing cabinets. A quick check showed the cabinets were empty; apparently they were for her use.

Was he watching her right now? She looked around, up at the ceiling. No sign of a camera, but she had yet to find any. Despite the lack of evidence she was sure he could see her. Just from the short time she had known him, she could tell he liked looking at her, especially when she was wearing his chains. She sat back down in the chair and straightened her leg, looking at the gleaming steel cuff encircling her ankle. She smiled, thinking of all the jokes at work about being chained to her desk. Never in her wildest daydreams had she ever thought it might actually come true. Meanwhile she still had her assignment. Even if he hadn't set a time limit she should be working on it.

She turned the page on the catalog in front of her, looking at pictures of what the labels called "classic" fashions. She had not bought any long dresses for herself; somehow she associated it with being old-fashioned. Now that she didn't have a choice she paid more attention to the models and found some actually did look attractive. She made a note of the pages and the category. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine what she would look like in some of the outfits.

Jim Peters watched her turn back to the catalogs on the monitor in the machine shop. He was glad to see how well she was adjusting. No hysterics, no attempts to fight him or escape. Most surprising was how she reacted to being kept in chains. Not once had she demanded he take them off. Not that he would have anyway, but he had expected her to at least ask or hint in some way. He turned back to his project, checking the measurements against her computer database. Both items should fit perfectly, with just a few more finishing touches. She might be expecting the one in his hand now, but the other would be unexpected.

He hefted the object in his hand, light for its size and composition. Titanium was expensive and difficult to work with, but the results would be worth it. Titanium was lighter than steel, stronger than aluminum, and chemically inert too; it wouldn't discolor or cause a reaction against her skin. The two items he had made for her would have been cost prohibitive to produce commercially, both because of the labor involved and the materials cost. This represented a labor of love so the investment wasn't important. That phrase, "labor of love" was ironic in this case. He would have to remember to mention it to her.

On the monitor she was diligently going through the catalogs, compiling her wardrobe. He thought that it would be interesting to see her selections and how well she followed his instructions. Over time he would relax some of his restrictions, but for now he wanted to see how well she did within highly structured rules. Jim was still amazed at how fast she had progressed. He had been prepared for a power struggle lasting for several weeks, where she would be argumentative or at least uncooperative, fighting against his control. Most of his planning had been how to counter all the resistance he had expected. Instead she had adapted to her new life with unexpected speed, leaving him scrambling to keep up. His plan called for the items on the workbench to be ready before she was out of the confinement room, but her responses had forced him to accelerate his schedule, moving her into the small bedroom last night.

From the angle of the hidden camera he could just make out the shackle on her ankle. It wasn't really necessary for security as the door to the room was locked from the outside. He still wasn't certain about trusting her not to run off or explore on her own. And aside from the rationalizing he liked to see her in chains. He had expected some protests, or at least questions or requests to take them off, but so far she had said nothing about it, even when he gave her the opportunity. After he had left her alone she had tested the leg chain once, then seemed to ignore it after that. He had been watching her constantly on the monitor, glancing at it every few minutes. She had stood a few times, stretching, but did not appear distressed at being chained to the desk.

During the test earlier that morning, the walk in the desert, she had shown no hesitation even though he had deliberately made it as difficult as possible by forcing her to strip, then restraining and blinding her. He had expected some signs of panic when he left her standing alone, but she had surprised him by waiting calmly. This evening would be the final test, when she saw the items he had made for her. If she had a positive reaction then he could relax some of his precautions. Still, he thought to himself, better to err on the cautious side.

He decided to take a break and see how she was doing. He took off the overalls, stained from the machine cutting oil, and cleaned his hands. Before checking on her he went out to the kitchen and cut up two chilled apples, putting the slices in a bowl. He headed back to her work room and unlocked the door. As he entered she turned and started to stand.

"No, sit down. I thought you might like a short break. I hope you like fruit, I fixed an apple." He set the bowl of apple slices on top of the filing cabinet.

"Thank you, sir. Would you like to see what I've found so far?" She started to turn back to the catalogs.

"In a moment, first I want you to face the wall and put your hands palm down on the desk." She did as he ordered, placing her hands flat on the desktop, after pushing the catalogs to the side. "Listen carefully and do exactly as I tell you. You may not raise or move your hands until I give you permission. Touch the tips of your thumbs together, and keep them in that position. Keep your eyes on the spot where your thumbs come together, do not look up or to the side. And no matter what, do not move your hands. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," she answered. She could feel him standing behind her, his hands on the back of the chair. Her gaze was focused on her hands, flat on the desk, fingers slightly spread, her thumbs barely touching. Then his hands were on her bare shoulders. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck as he leaned down.

"Sit quietly, don't fidget, you do not have permission to speak. Do not move your hands." He whispered quietly in her ear, barely audible, but loud enough for her to understand. Once again she felt captivated by his voice, calm, low, but deliberate, each word carefully chosen for her. His hands slowly glided down her arms, sending tingles through her. He stopped at her wrists, his hands around them, gripping her firmly. She felt the strength in that grip, knowing she could never break away from it. Then his hands were over hers, pressing them down against the desktop.

He stood up and picked up the bowl of apple slices. Setting it down in front of her, he picked up a slice and held it in front of her mouth. "Eat," he commanded. She took a bite out of it. The apple was delicious, cold and juicy. He took one for himself too. As he fed alternately fed her and himself, he continued, "here is the plan for the rest of this afternoon. I have a project I need to finish while you work on your assignment." He gestured toward the books on the desk. "After I'm done we'll stop for dinner. I'm cooking tonight but you will keep me company in the kitchen. Before dinner I have another task for you, but we'll discuss it then. After dinner we can relax for a while, maybe watch a movie. Any questions? You have permission to speak."

Sue Ann finished taking another apple slice from his hand, thinking about his plans for the rest of the day. "Sir, for dinner tonight? Is there anything I can do to help? Will this be one of the semi-formal occasions? Is there something you want me to do before we eat?" She had just finished picking out several of the long dresses, according to his guidelines. "Also sir, I have some questions about these." She nodded toward his printout on the desk.

"Save your questions for later. You can tell me about what you've found over dinner." He thought for a minute. "Yes, I would like this to be one of those occasions. I did obtain a proper dress for you and a few other things, but I'm not sure if it fits. You can try it on, and if it's not right we'll do something else. After I get dinner in the oven you can have some time to get ready." He picked up the empty bowl. "I'll be back soon. Meanwhile, you continue and if you need anything you can call me with the pager. You have permission to move your hands. Are there any questions you need to ask me now?"

"No sir, it can wait. Is it okay if I stand up once in a while? Also, you should know I opened the filing cabinet and looked inside." She couldn't remember him telling her not to stand or touch the filing cabinet, but thought he should know in case he disapproved.

"Yes, it's okay to stand but be careful and don't fall. The filing cabinet and this desk are for your use. This room will be your office from now on. I already have a computer for you too. The wiring and the rest of the furniture aren't ready yet. Remind me and I'll tell you about it tonight. Anything else?" He turned toward the door.

"No sir, I'll continue with this until you return." He went out the door, shutting it behind her. She looked around the room once again, seeing it as her office now. That explained the empty wall plate and space against the wall. It was just the right size for a personal computer workstation. She had been concerned that he wouldn't allow her to use a computer. She hated working with pen and paper, a word processor was so much faster and easier. It also explained the presence of the retaining ring on the floor, the one that kept her tethered to the desk. It seemed that when he gave her tasks to do in here she wouldn't have any problems disciplining herself to get it done. He would make sure she kept to her assignment. She tugged on the leg chain again. She decided she liked it, in a way it symbolized how he cared for her.