s*x Chained

Food for Love

Chapter 19

Chris fell asleep almost as soon as he nestled alongside of her; and when Natalie finally heard his deep, regular breathing, she eased off the cot. As quietly and stealthily as she could, she replaced his slacks, on leg at a time, then slowly worked them up just below his hips. Next, Nat picked up the metal cuff and returned it to his right ankle. For a moment she held her breath, certain he would awaken when the heavy hitch of the two metal halves came together; but Chris simply rolled to his side, oblivious to all outside stimuli. For a moment she gazed at his sleek back, even wanted to reach out and touch the mole above his buttocks, but held herself in check. She could not afford to wake him. Satisfied she had her lover shackled once more, Nat held the flashlight close to her breast and went to switch off the lamp, then made her way down the row of cabinets with the small arc of light as her guide. She would allow him to sleep while she prepared their evening meal, a real treat for both of them tonight!

Chris O'Connell awoke to the delicious smell of food. In fact, he just dreamt that he had been dining on rare prime rib, asparagus and new potatoes at the best restaurant in town, with Merrill as his dinner guest... no, perhaps it had been Natalie. The restaurant had been dark and the woman at his side cloaked in shadows. She wore a midnight evening dress and a black hat with a veil and a side bow in midnight lace black, as were her heels, soft and velvety. He remembered them because his mystery woman had disengaged one and playfully ran her stocking toes underneath the leg of his slacks. Reaching down, he grabbed her foot and tickled her silken instep. He chuckled, she giggled, with such unexpected and bold flirting. Then nothing, as his vision faded to black.

Now Chris struggled to a sitting position and tried to regain his bearings. Yes, he was back in the storage room. Nat had put him into storage all right... hah, hah! Well at least he had kept some of his sense of humor through this whole ordeal. In need of the toilet, Chris rose off the cot; but to his dismay, he found his captor had replaced his ankle cuff as well as his slacks. Had he slept so soundly that he hadn't once felt her little fingers on his flesh? s*x did that to him, made him a solid unconscious blob after the act; but Chris was so sure they had come to an understanding where Nat could trust him again. Obviously, she needed more convincing before she granted him some leeway.

Groping for the lamp, he turned it on, replaced his shirt, and then shuffled over to use the portable john. After he hitched his pants and made it back to the cot, Chris heard the click and squeak of wheels along the corridor and noticed the circle of light from Nat's flashlight. She had been careful not to turn on the overheads; but then again, the heavy door to the vault remained tight enough to keep in all light and sound. He tried to recognize the tune she hummed, but when she began to singsong the words, he knew she softly crooned "Dream Lover."

Chris's expression fell to one of amazement when he watched Nat wheel a metal cart his way. She looked beautiful tonight, dressed in a vintage, low-cut, black taffeta dress with a skirt of filmy tulle. She had even added high heels of ebony velvet, a rhinestone hair clip and matching jewelry. The teardrop necklace around her slender neck served as a replacement for the chain with the key to his restraint. Chris' gaze then fell to the cart, filled with silver-domed serving trays and giving off a tantalizing odor of beef and vegetables.

"Hello there," she greeted with a warm smile. "I hope you're hungry. I had this made special." Uncovering the largest dish, Nat revealed a medium roast with new potatoes, stewed grape tomatoes, baby carrots and garnished with sprigs of parsley. A wicker basket held fluffy and aromatic clover rolls.

"Where on earth did you get all this?" Chris asked in awe.

"From Chez Lenore. I ordered it yesterday for pickup tonight." As she spoke, Nat unfolded a linen table cloth and draped it over his TV tray, then added two silver candlesticks with red tapers. With a flick of a disposable lighter, she lit the candles. "I know we don't have much space with the tray, but we'll manage. We have this roast, plus stuffed artichokes and a chocolate mouse for dessert. Not to mention..." Returning to the serving cart and reaching down to the bottom shelf, Nat produced a silver bucket with ice and a chilled bottle of red wine. "Mr. Lenore himself assured me that this Shiraz will compliment the dinner quite nicely."

"Nat, I am truly amazed that you went to all this trouble! This must have cost a fortune; and how on earth did you get it all up here?" As he spoke, Chris caught the sparkle of something hooked around the base of a wine glass. It looked like a piece of jewelry, a man's ID bracelet.

Nat gave a small laugh as she uncorked the wine, poured and then handed him the glass with the bracelet attached. "Easy enough. I have a key to the front door of the building; and since Tim, our ever vigilant guard, has the rest of the weekend off, I can come and go as I please. Of course, I take the precaution of checking the area to make sure I'm not unduly observed by prying eyes."

With careful fingers, Chris undid the bracelet and held it up to read the inscription. Christian O'Connell graced the front, while the back held the simple phrase, With Devotion, Natalie. He looked at his assistant, confused. "Nat, I... I... don't understand!"

She went about uncovering dishes. "It's nothing really. Just a birthday present I forgot to give you."

'Well, it's wonderful!" Setting down the wine, Chris placed it on his left wrist and managed the clasp. 'Thank you so much. I'll wear it always."

"Will you?" Her words rang out, hollow and sharp; but when he glanced at her, Nat simply offered a smile, then gave a little breezy laugh. "Well, it's yours anyway, to wear or not."