Time After Time (C) Dino 2003
= Part 2 =
Brent Hastings set down his pen and watched the pretty blond girl, coffee cup in
hand, cross the street and enter the Laundromat on the opposite corner. He
brought his own cup of now cold coffee to his lips and took a sip. Frowning as
the bitter liquid passed over his tongue, he replaced the cup on the table and
glanced down at the newspaper he had spread out before him. He closed his eyes,
and let his finger drop to the page. The page held the stock market closing
numbers from the day before. Brent opened his eyes to see which listing his
fingertip had landed on. He then made a note on the paper beside him.
Brent Hastings was a strong believer in fate. He'd stopped on his drive home at
this particular coffee shop because he'd had an overwhelming sensation that
something good was going to happen there. Since he also believed that good
things happen in three's, after seeing the pretty girl with the handcuff marks
on her wrists, he fully expected that fate would also lend a hand in selecting a
good stock pick. The possible third good thing, which would be the girl having
the right sort of character, would be proven during first contact with her.
Brent gathered up his paper and notes, picked up his suit jacket, and left the
shop through the same door that, only a few minutes before, the girl had passed
through. He paused with his hand on the handle, in the same place the girl's
hand had been on it, and he smiled. Then, outside, he turned toward the street
where he'd parked.
Brent wheeled his vintage Mustang convertable, through the intersection and past
the Laundromat. He parked just down the street. He'd taken a guess which way the
girl would turn to go home, and, after a twenty minute wait, his guess was
proven right. The pretty blond woman stepped out from the Laundromat, and
started walking toward where he was parked.
The top of his car was open, and the windows were down, so when the girl was
beside his car, Brent casually called to her.
"That looks heavy," he said of the bag of clothes. "Would you like a lift?"
Judy looked toward the Mustang, and saw the man with the lovely blue eyes seated
inside. The colour of the man's eyes matched the colour of his car.
"No thank you," she answered warily. "I haven't that far to go."
Judy let her eyes travel over the interior of the classic car. The seats were
done in that old style red and white cloth, yet they looked soft and inviting.
The dash held a state of the art CD stereo, which had a faceplate closely
matching the style of the other instruments. Her eyes returned to the face of
the man seated comfortably behind the wheel.
"Then could I have," he gently asked, "a few moments of your time? I'd like to
ask you something."
Judy caught her reflection in the thick, chrome plated windshield frame. She put
her bag of clothes down beside the car, and she let a fingertip touch the corner
of that silvery frame. Her other hand came to rest on the top of the car door.
Brent's eyes held hers, though he did notice the marks still on her wrists.
After a second, Judy also glanced at one of her wrists, and she lowered her
hands. "What do you want to know?" she asked, although she was beginning to
guess. Her suspicions were quickly confirmed.
"While I don't wish to embarrass you," he began, "in the coffee shop, I noticed
the markings about your wrists. I just couldn't leave here without asking you
about them. You probably know that there's lots of people who enjoy a bit of
play, with things like rope, or handcuffs. I myself find these sorts of games to
be most enjoyable. Perhaps you do also?"
Judy looked at the buildings across the street. She looked down at her feet,
just to confirm that she had indeed taken off the shackles she'd had on earlier.
Her eyes followed the line of the car door as it smoothly flowed into the back
fender, then, dipping down, joined with the chrome of the rear bumper. She'd
rather look anywhere than at those deep blue eyes, behind which, her private
pleasures appeared to be lain bare.
Finally, Judy met the gaze of the man seated in the car. How could this man have
read her secrets from a couple of red lines on her arms? She could simply say
that she'd burned herself on the oven door, or something. She should just say
that she didn't know what he was talking about, and then walk away. But there
was something in those eyes, those twin pools of liquid sapphire, that made
lying to this man out of the question. Besides, he did have a snazzy car.
"Yes," she found herself saying. She lowered her eyes to the center console
beside the man. She focused on the gearshift knob. There were no shift markings
on the top of the worn leather-covered ball; only a small silver pony emblem.
The emblem was set slightly down in the leather covering. The little silver pony
was surrounded by soft, well worn, black leather. Judy wondered what it would
feel like to be that little pony. How would it feel to be trapped by the leather
on top of that metal shifter rod, and to get slapped by the man's hand each time
he had to change gears.
Judy looked at the man's hands. One was resting lightly on the steering wheel
and the other was on the seat beside him. She noted that he wore no wedding
ring, not that that meant much these days. His hands were strong, but they
looked clean and soft. He could be someone who worked in an office, she thought.
Judy's gaze returned to those deep blue eyes, and the man spoke again.
"My name's Brent," he said. After a pause, he asked, "Yours?"
"Judy," she stammered out.
"Well get in, Judy. I'll give you a ride to your building."
As he said this, he reached over and opened the passenger side door. Something
about his tone of voice had touched Judy in a special place. That voice had her
hefting her bag of laundry up and into the back seat of his car before she even
realized what she was doing. She paused a moment with one foot inside the car,
and one foot still safely on the pavement.
Brent sensed the moment of hesitation before it happened, and he was ready with
an easy smile to calm the girl's jitters. "It's only a lift down the street to
your building," he said in a calming voice. "Nothing more. Unless," he added
with a theatrical leer, "you'd like there to be."
His look made her smile. She swung into the seat beside Brent, and closed the
car door. "We'll try the ride first," she said. "After that, we'll see."
Brave girl, thought Brent, as he reached to turn the key. The engine caught, and
his hand came down to cover the little leather bound pony shifter. Judy watched
as, first the shadow of his hand passed over the little silver pony, then the
tiny creature was engulfed by his palm and fingers. Judy glanced up at Brent's
face, but he'd turned to watch for oncoming cars.
The Mustang rolled easily away from the curb and accelerated along the street.
Brent asked Judy, "Tell me where." After a moment, she said, "That one. Where
the yellow railing is." Brent pulled the car over against the curb once more.
His hand lifted from the little silver pony. Judy looked, and thought she saw
the tiny creature grinning at her. The moment was broken when Brent asked her:
"What's your phone number, Judy. I'd like to take you out to dinner. Perhaps
next weekend?"
Brent had an electronic organizer out and was poised to enter her number. Judy
found herself reciting her telephone number. She watched, as he typed it into
the device.
"I'll call you around mid week," he said to her.
Judy's hand went to the doorhandle and she opened the car door. Then,
remembering her manners, she said, "Thank you for the ride, Sir."
Brent smiled to himself and kept silent. This one's had some training, he
thought. He waited for Judy to collect her laundry bag from the back seat, and
then said, "It was nice to meet you, Judy. I'll call you."
Judy watched as Brent drove away. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and
images. For one, she couldn't shake the sight of the man's penetrating deep blue
eyes. She felt that Brent had used those eyes to first strip her naked, then
study every thought and secret she ever had. On the one hand something like that
would have been frightening and invasive to her. Yet she felt more of a sense of
relief that the man had somehow read her mind, and had found her to his liking.
Picking up her laundry bag, Judy dug in her pocket for her keys. She turned
toward her apartment building.
Brent felt it as a slight tingling in his palm every time he changed gears. He
gunned the Mustang to dodge around a slow polk, then cut left and powered up the
expressway ramp. At the top, he shoved the stick into third and nipped in ahead
of an eighteen wheeler. The little blue beast responded so well to his commands.
He then glanced down at the silver pony on the shift knob. The girl had seemed
fascinated with it. Brent let his palm come to rest lightly over it. "What say
you, my friend?" he asked of the emblem. "Will she be worth pursuing?"
Of course he already knew the answer to that. Her responses during their brief
meeting had been textbook submissive. She hadn't tried to be coy or flirty with
him; that would have been a mistake. She'd been wary, but she hadn't shown fear.
She understood power: who had it, and who served under it.
Brent lightly traced the outline of the silver pony with a fingertip. He felt
the softness of the leather. The covering was starting to close in over the
edges of the emblem. He grinned then, with the riddle solved. "Wrapped up in
leather," he thought to himself. He laughed, and gunned the car.
Brent Hastings lived on a small farm outside of town. He'd bought the place
fifteen years ago, partly as an investment, but mostly because it offered him
the privacy and the space he needed. It had a nice barn that he'd outfitted as a
workshop. There, he dabbled in one of his hobbies. The fixing up and selling of
old cars.
The farmhouse he'd had renovated to more modern tastes. He had all the creature
comforts anyone would need. His money came, not from buying and selling cars,
but from buying and selling stocks. While some years his earnings were slim, the
good times more than made up for it.
Monday morning he was on the phone to his stock broker buying twenty thousand
dollars worth of Seacord Pharmaceutical. That had been the name of the company
his fingertip had randomly landed on in the Starbucks the other day. That
evening, after the market had closed, the news reported that Seacord
Pharmaceutical had just had their new heart drug approved for sale. By midday
Tuesday, the stock had jumped over 20 percent and was still climbing. Brent
cashed his shares in on Wednesday, just before the market closed, for a tidy
fifteen thousand dollar profit. Later on in the evening, he phoned Judy.
Judy was reading when the phone rang. At first she thought the caller was just
another telemarketer, and she answered with a somewhat disinterested, "Hello."
"Judy? This is Brent Hastings. We met last Saturday and I told you that I'd
call. I'd like to have dinner with you, say, this Friday night?"
Judy's heart was racing. Brent Hastings had been on her mind since they'd first
met. She dared not hope that he'd actually phone her, for having him never call
would have been too depressing to think about.
"I get off work at five," Judy was saying. She made an effort to quell the
nervousness in her voice. "Could we meet here, at my place?"
"Say around seven? The building with the yellow railing out front, right?"
"That's right. Number 1240, apartment four." Judy listened to the pause and she
pictured Brent making a note in his organizer. She could almost count the
keystrokes. He'd then look up, and then . . . .
"There's a fish place in the east end that's pretty good," he was saying.
"Casual dress would be fine. I'll see you then?"
"That'll be nice. Thank you . . . Brent." Judy almost called him sir, but
thought the better of it. No sense going into that just yet.
However Brent caught that tiny moment of indecision, and he grinned. "Bye,
Judy." He was smiling as he hung up the phone. Yes, he thought to himself, good
things do come in threes.
Brent and Judy's date on Friday night went well. The restaurant was nice, the
food better than average, and Brent learned a whole lot more about this girl
he'd met.
Judy talked a lot to cover up her nervousness. The trouble was she let on more
than she'd really wanted to tell. However Brent was a good listener, and he'd
seemed genuinely interested in hearing what she had to say. He'd stop her to ask
a question from time to time, but by the time they were ready to leave, Judy
began to realize that she still knew very little about the man she was sitting
opposite to.
On the walk to the car Judy began asking a few questions of her own. She found
out about Brent's part time job, restoring old cars, and about what he called
his full time job, playing the stock market.
"I've made obscene amounts of cash some years," he told her. "Then, some years I
don't make anything. Well," he added, "hardly anything. The trick is to not go
nuts when the dough's rolling in. You have to remember that the next few years
might not be so good."
Judy's jaw dropped when she heard that Brent only "worked" a few hours a week
managing his stock portfolio. Yet he was able to live quite comfortably on the
income derived from his investments.
"I live on a small farm about an hour's drive from here," he told her when
they'd reached his car, a bright orange '74 Duster. With the 455 Hemi,
naturally. "They're saying it'll be warm and sunny tomorrow. Would you like to
come up with me?"
Brent studied the girl's face as she climbed into the car. He saw her
indecision, and he added, "I'll make us a mean chicken cacciatore for supper
tomorrow."
Judy looked up. He cooks, too? Well he'd have to, if he lived alone. "All
right," she found herself saying. "Will I be staying the night? I don't have any
clothes." She hastily added, "With me, that is." Then she fell silent. It would
be up to him, she thought, whether she stayed the night at his house. She should
not have presumed her invitation.
Brent walked around the car and climbed in behind the wheel. He gave her a
glance as he found his keys. "We'll stop by your place," he easily said, "and
you can grab some stuff. Don't forget your bathing suit. There's a pool there,
and a hot tub."
They made a quick stop off at Judy's place, where Brent sat on her couch while
she packed a few things. Then it was off to the country along a winding two lane
road, the inky blackness pierced here and there by the lights of other houses.
Signs of civilization became less and less frequent. Soon after, Brent slowed
the car, and he turned into a driveway that was marked by an open wrought iron
gate, and a mail box on a low post. "Here we are," he stated.
Lights came on atop the gateposts as they drove past. They followed his driveway
through thick woods until it let out at a clearing and his farm house. More
lights switched on as motion sensors picked up on their arrival.
"Wow!" Judy said, once she got a look at the house. The original two story
farmhouse sat between a single story addition on one side, and a double garage
on the other. Brent pushed a remote that was clipped to the visor, and one of
the garage doors rolled up. He parked the orange Duster beside a dark green
Model A Ford, that sat in the other bay.
Brent retrieved Judy's bag from the back seat of the Duster. As he came around,
he handed it to her, then picked out a key and opened the door to the house.
Brent led the way, flipping on lights, while Judy followed along getting the
tour of the house. Upstairs, Brent opened a door that led to what looked like a
guest bedroom. Judy set her bag down inside. Then the two returned to the
kitchen where Brent opened a bottle of wine from the fridge.
"Have you lived here long?" asked Judy.
"About eight years now," Brent answered, sitting across the table from her.
Emboldened by the seemingly relaxed atmosphere, Judy attempted to pry a bit more
information from him. "And you live here all alone?"
"That's right," Brent simply said. Inside though, he was grinning. He'd wondered
when the girl's curiosity would start to surface. While it's nice to be
accepting and trusting, these days it pays to be cautious as well.
"I never married," he stated, answering what would have been her next question.
"There was someone, before. We split up a couple of years ago. She just couldn't
take the isolation out here. I like it, though. This is my retreat, this place.
I can work, I do a bit of gardening. I sometimes hunt in the Fall. Being out
here in the country keeps me grounded in reality."
"I guess it is pretty private here," Judy ventured.
Brent caught her meaning instantly, whether it was intended or not. He stood up
to retrieve the wine bottle from the counter. "You can run around outside naked
all day, and nobody'll bother you," he said.
Judy was grinning when he turned to her. He refilled her glass. He decided to
press the advantage.
"The property is one hundred acres," he told her. "To the north and east is
government land, so nobody lives there. About a mile behind us is a nice little
lake. We could take a run out there tomorrow, if you'd like. Pack a lunch."
"That sounds like fun," Judy replied.
Brent put on his serious face. "I want you to understand that no harm will come
to you this weekend, Judy. If you're up for some real fun, I can make this a
memorable time for the both of us."
"I don't understand," Judy said, although she thought she knew full well where
this conversation was leading.
Brent heard her words, but he also saw the spark of excitement light up her
eyes, and knew he had her hooked. Rather than explain, he stood up and went to
the kitchen pantry. Opening the door, he reached for a shoe box on an upper
shelf. Brent set the box on the table before Judy.
Brent lifted the lid, and Judy looked inside. The first things she recognized
were the shiny brass padlocks, of which there were four. Some lengths of silver
coloured chain snaked along the bottom of the box, and were attached to four
black leather cuffs. The cuffs, padded inside with what looked to be thick white
cloth, came in two sizes. Wrist size, and ankle size. Judy looked up with a grin
on her face.
"As I said," Brent said, "we can have some memorable fun this weekend. We can
take things as far as you'd like. But remember, it's entirely up to you how far
things go. I'm not going to pressure you into doing anything that you don't want
to do. I will, however, insist on certain stipulations."
"Like what?" Judy asked.
"Well, for one," Brent began, "if you decide to put on those restraints now,
they'll stay on until you're ready to leave. And there's another thing that I'd
want you to do, if you'll agree."
"And that is . . . ?"
"You'll have to be nude when the chains go on, and you can't wear clothing while
you have them on. A blanket to cover yourself will be provided, but otherwise,
nothing else is to be worn except the cuffs and chains."
"Even outside?"
"Especially outside. Remember, there's no one around for miles. People don't
wander around out here, so you won't be seen by anyone but me. Agreed?"
Brent reached into the box to gather up the four locks and the keys. He began to
open each lock. Judy saw that the locks were all keyed alike, and she watched as
each one popped open with a click. Each click of a lock seemed to reverberate in
a small place inside her brain.
Here she was being offered a chance to be bound for a long period of time, in
relative safety. If what Brent was saying was right, there'd be no other people
coming around and seeing her chained up. Not being allowed to wear any clothes
was something she hadn't expected, but now, the more she thought of it, the more
excited she got. Could she do it? Could she put on this man's chains, and run
around his property completely naked?
With her previous partner, Steve, it had always been in urban areas that they'd
played these games. While the chance of getting caught, of having her be seen
chained up by someone, frightened her, that very thing seemed to be what Steve
had wanted the most. He'd almost dared others to catch a glimpse of Judy, tied
helplessly in chains, so that they could witness his mastery over her. While the
part of her being chained and helpless was appealing to her, having strangers
see her like that was not.
However, now, Brent was going to let her explore her fantasies in the relative
safety of his large, and private property. Judy reached into the box to lift out
one set of cuffs. Her fingertips stroked the soft lining of one, a wrist cuff,
judging by the size. She held the leather strap open and tested its strength by
pulling slightly on the ends. The attached chain tinkled with her movements.
Brent sat quietly, watching, as Judy handled his restraints. He'd had the sets
of cuffs custom made several years ago for the woman he'd lived with. The cuffs
had seen much use over the years. That use showed now in the wear marks on the
inside lining, and on the outside, as nicks and scratches in the black coloured
leather. Brent knew that the cuffs were comfortable for the wearer, but also
strong, and quite inescapable. Laminated between the leather and the liner, was
a strip of hardened spring steel, which Judy realized was there when she let go
of one end and the cuff sprang back to its circular shape again.
Brent's stare grew more intent when Judy rolled one cuff around her wrist. The
spring steel pulled the cuff closed in a close fit, with the tabs for the lock
lining up perfectly. Judy moved the cuff around, and up and down, on her wrist.
The fit was a bit loose, but perfect nonetheless. She looked up, and was speared
by those twin, bright blue pools.
As an answer to the man's question, Judy slipped the cuff off her wrist, placed
the set on the table, then began unbuttoning her blouse. She slowly, and
sometimes haltingly, as though she wasn't yet quite committed to the idea,
removed all of her clothes. Her panties were the last to come off. Judy stood
with her thumbs hooked in the waistband for a few moments, as if holding tight
to that last vestige of her modesty, before smoothly sliding them down to the
floor to join her other garments. Judy gathered up her clothes, and carefully
placed them on a chair. Then, she stood naked before Brent. Her new Master.
"Sir," was all she could say, a gentle whisper that, to Brent, was the sweetest
of music.
Judy stood there, naked, in the middle of this man's kitchen, waiting for him to
make the next move. She knew that she'd be expected to remain standing, and to
not show nervousness or fear. She knew that, now that she had committed herself
to her decision, he'd expect her to give over her complete trust to him, this
man, who, she reminded herself, she'd only just gotten to know.
Judy lowered her eyes to the floor, but then caught sight of her breasts, and
her two nipples, which looked like they were about ready to explode. She
shuddered slightly and closed her eyes. She could feel the flush of her shame,
or of her heat, and it was spreading, colouring her face and chest. Judy opened
her eyes, to see Brent staring at her with his lips curved in a slight grin, and
her blush deepened. The blackness of the uncurtained kitchen window caught her
eye and she almost ducked down, imagining countless pairs of eyes hidden behind
the darkness, all looking at her in her nakedness. But she willed herself to
hold her ground, not wishing to show weakness in the face of her new Master.
Finally, Brent slid back his chair and rose. He stepped around the table to face
the girl. Taking her chin between two of his fingers, he raised her eyes to his.
Behind those eyes he saw fear, of course, and indecision, still, but there was
something else there too. There was a drive there. A drive for self
understanding, and for the excitement of adventure. And Brent let the girl see
his smile.
He first picked up the wrist cuffs that she'd recently held in her hands. When
Brent bent the leather strap open, Judy held out one wrist. He placed the cuff
against her skin, and let it wrap her wrist in its soft grasp. Taking a lock
from the table, Brent slipped the shackle through the holes in the two tabs,
where the chain attached. Brent turned the body of the lock, and pushed it home.
The click of the lock closing was heard, and felt, deep inside Judy's brain.
The second cuff went on her other wrist, and Brent took a step back. Judy let
the weight of the cuffs and chain drag her hands down. The chain was cool
against her upper thighs when it touched her there. Her fingers grasped the
links of the chain to hold it, to feel the strength of it. She moved her arms
apart, and she felt it. She tugged her wrists against the length of steel chain
that would now define her movements. Brent took the set of ankle cuffs, and the
remaining two locks, and bent down. He knelt before her.
Judy spread her feet apart slightly, to give him access. She felt each cuff as
they enclosed the skin around her ankles with soft, stiff, strength. The locks
clicked home, and when they did, Judy then understood that she was now under the
power of someone else. However it had come about, by her willingly allowing it
to happen, or by, as she often liked to think, someone else having taken it away
by force, her freedom was now gone.
Brent stood, but he did not stay to admire his handiwork, as Judy thought he
might. Instead, he turned to the table, picked up the wine bottle and his glass,
and simply said to her, "Come." Opening the back door and flipping on the
outside lights, Brent left the kitchen and his captive standing inside it. Judy
took a few tentative steps, testing the limits of her new hobble, and followed
her captor outdoors.
Brent had seated himself on a lounge chair, beside what looked to be a pool
straight out of a home and garden TV show. Underwater lights around the sides
made the water sparkle and, from what Judy could see in the darkness, one side
of the pool led into a wooded area, complete with a rocky waterfall, all
outlined in tiny garden floodlights. For a moment Judy forgot about her
situation, about the fact that she was outside, nude, and chained, and simply
stood there, taking it all in. But then she heard the softly spoken command when
Brent called to her again, and she responded.
Judy was jarred back into reality when she tried to take too big a step, and she
stumbled as her hobble chain pulled tight. Although she recovered her footing
quickly, she did not miss the disapproving glance that she earned. Moving toward
Brent's chair, she went to kneel on the hard concrete beside it.
"You may sit," he told her, "on the end, here."
Although Judy thought Brent expected her to reply, she did not wish to seem too
cowed by him. So instead of "thank you sir," for allowing her a corner of his
chair, she said, "The pool looks lovely." However, without even realizing it
herself, she added, "Sir."
"Would you like to go in for a dip?" he asked.
"Yes," Judy replied. "But won't your cuffs get wrecked from getting wet?"
Surely she isn't expecting to have them taken off so soon, thought Brent. No, he
realized. He watched the girl as she carefully, almost reverently, turned one
cuff on her wrist and looked at it. She's only expressing concern that the
leather might get ruined.
"I'll expect that you'll clean and oil the leathers tomorrow," he casually
stated.
This brought a grin to Judy's lips that had Brent smiling too. After a nod from
him, Judy stood and went to the edge of the pool. Testing the water first with a
toe, and finding it pleasantly warm, Judy sat on the edge to let her feet dip
into the water.
The cuffs on her ankles felt strange, submerged in the water. Judy slipped off
the edge and stood, chest deep, in refreshingly warm water. She moved her hands
back and forth a few times. The cuffs and chain presented substantial drag. She
doubted if she could swim any marathons like that. Judy pushed off.
There are very few swimming strokes that work when your hands and feet are
linked by short chains. Judy started off slow, and tried several different
positions, and was soon doing easy laps of Brent's pool using a modified dog
paddle style. Brent watched, pleased with the girl's willingness to try new
things, and with the way she seemed to be enjoying herself.
After a while, Judy climbed the steps at the shallow end and got out. Brent
stood to get her a towel from a small cabana beside the house. He held open the
towel, and wrapped the dripping girl in it. Judy stood while Brent dried her
off.
Brent patted the towel where it lay across Judy's nude body. This was the first
time they'd really touched, thought Judy. And under such strange circumstances,
too. Brent moved to stand behind her, and he raised the towel to dry her hair.
The front started to fall open, and she instinctively reached to hold it closed
about her. But as she did, she thought that Brent might see the action as a show
of modesty and, after him stressing that they'd not have to fear prying eyes
while on his property, proof that she didn't trust him. So instead of grabbing
the sides of the towel and wrapping herself in it, she just took hold of one
side and wiped off her face.
Brent's hands patted the soft towel on her back, and around her waist. He gently
rubbed across her bum and down her thighs. Then he had her turn around to face
him. As she turned, Brent draped the towel over her shoulders once more. Then,
in one fluid motion, his hands went to her breasts for the briefest of touches,
before sliding past, around her back, and pulling her body close to him. His
lips found hers, and they kissed.
= End part 2 =
