The Game Pt. 03

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Cadence looked around at the results of her work. After four days and five nights in the old house in the woods, it had finally been cleaned from top to bottom and all the items Rafe had bought for it had been put away neatly.

She had done a damn fine job, she thought.

That first night had been hard, and she had been so afraid. Rafe had packed the kitchen for her, and asked her short questions. She found herself telling him more than he asked, like how she and Brad had come to be together, and how their BDSM relationship had turned into a trap for her.

He had made it clear to her that she was not expected to perform sexual acts for him, and that she would be responsible for caring for herself and the house that she would be living in – the property that had been won in the game. It didn’t have electricity or plumbing, but he assured her that he would see that was corrected. She didn’t mind the thought of staying in a house with no electricity or plumbing, but she was afraid to be alone.

They stopped at a 24 hour department store to pick up necessities, and she was surprised that he bought an axe and knives for her, as well as a propane stove and matches – Brad would never trust her to have things like that.

She had set to work cleaning that first morning as if she had been hired to do the job. She had been informed that this would be her new home, and she had been so grateful that he hadn’t wanted to use her sexually that she decided to make herself valuable in other ways.

In her mind she knew that she didn’t actually have to do anything – she could start walking and never have to fear that he would come after her. The thought and the feeling were two different things though.

Thus, she settled into what she considered a homesteader’s life. She had wood for fire set under a tarp near the front porch, as she gathered fallen sticks every morning when she walked. She had made it to the fence line on the first day, but the walk had taken an hour. Over a mile of property waited her to be used.

She had rested for twenty minutes at least beside that fence and had not seen a single car pass by.

She hadn’t seen Rafe since the night he had dropped her off, and she wondered If he ever planned to come back. Each day she debated on whether to start walking along the road or not, and each day she decided against it.

She pumped water from the well and heated it over open flame to clean and bathe with. She did not look forward to the thought of a massive laundry pile, so she washed each set of new, pretty underclothes each night and hung them to dry. Years ago, she had hated underwear, but her new white panties made her feel cleaner than a hot shower could.

Nights grew dark quickly, and she decided to lie in her little double bed and daydream each night instead of using the flashlights to read the books he had let her buy. She felt the loss of her cage like a tooth being pulled – it was missing and she felt it, but she knew the pain would fade and she would be left feeling much better. She just didn’t know when.

She knitted until her fingers felt tangled, and her eyes were heavy. The rhythmic chirping of crickets and other creatures outside felt like a lullaby.

Each day felt like it had endless amounts of time left over to do anything in. Before, she had felt like time was her taskmaster more than anything, but here, time was her friend.

She thought of personal pronouns, and possessive ones, and whispered them to herself like a prayer.

“my window. My bed. My house. My home. I am home.”

Her eyes drifted shut of their own accord, not squeezd tight in an attempt to force sleep.

She dreamed of Brad, screaming in that way of his, that she had no right to take what was his. His window, his chair, his pussy. She stared at him in mute fascination as his nose became redder, and redder.

The room changed, and it was like a scene from a picture book – big, squashy pillows and a princess bed, stars and the half-moon hanging silently in the window.

She woke for a moment and lay under her blanket, uncomfortable, and she tossed a bit before turning over to face the wall.

and found Rafe there instead, his dark eyes gleaming, smiling, teasing. She marveled at the sweet ache she felt for a moment, but it was surely only a dream.

*yes, just a dream, as he smiled and removed the blanket, exposing them both naked, but for a silk and lace choker around her neck*

she sighed and took advantage of the dream, reaching out to touch him, enjoying the magical heat that radiated from him.

he took her hand and slid it down his body to his hard cock, and Cadence moaned and clenched her thighs. She wanted him, wanted him to fuck her.

like the dream that it was, he seemed to know just what she wanted, and pulled her in against him. He spoke not a word as his warm hands roamed over her body, dipping between her thighs, where mecidiyeköy escort her pussy lay soaked.

he didn’t tell her to be quiet, or to open her mouth. He didn’t slap or pinch her, didn’t turn her over and spank her. Instead, he guided her hand to join his between her legs, and leaned back to watch as her fingers took up his work

she built herself up to heat and dizzying lust, and her eyes stayed on his calm face. He wore a slight smile, and her body arched with her want of him, her nipples burned for his hands, her mouth anticipated his taste.

“Cadence…” He whispered, and she moaned low and loud. “Cadence…” He said, his voice thick and deep. Her fingers flew in and out, three, then four, she bent her knees and arched her body, ready to cum.

he growled in her ear, and her eyes popped open, her heart galloping painfully in her chest.

He stood looking down at her, and she was confused for a moment. She blinked away fuzzy sleep, and soon registered that he was real, he was here, and he was frowning down at her.

“Ohh my god!!” She scrambled out of the bed and knelt on the floor at his feet. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t..I’m so sorry!” Her face swelled and burned with embarrassment at her dream and her heavy sleeping. Brad would have beaten her senseless.

“its fine, I just thought you were hurt.” His voice rumbled down her vertebrae, and she shivered and clenched her legs against the sticky slickness on her thighs. She was just glad she hadn’t actually been doing it.

“I was…dreaming.” She stuttered, hoping he would let it go at that.

“must have been a nightmare.” He grunted and turned away from her. “get dressed, I’m taking you for breakfast.”

She felt relieved and somewhat excited at the words, and sneaked a peek at him as he walked away.

Then she instantly regretted it, as his jeans fit him well. She flinched and jumped out of the bed, closing the door behind him so that she could dress.

She scrambled into clean clothes, her nervous eye on the door. His boots meandered about the kitchen and she heard cabinets opening and closing.

The first night had been nerve-wracking, since he had stayed in the house. He built a fire more for light than anything, and brought in a flashlight and a Lantern. Tarps and plastic had been tossed aside and after shaking out blankets, she huddled in the bed she was commanded to sleep in, listening to him moving through the rest of the house.

She had no idea what he would do, but she felt like he would do something, and soon. After he had left her with food that first morning, he hadn’t returned, and she had begun to relax.

Now he was back, and his presence filled the whole house, and the air hummed with tension.

“I’m ready.”

She presented herself with hands clasped behind her back, the better to show off her cleavage in the blue sleeveless wrap dress that matched her eyes. She wore a pair of high-heeled sandals that made her mannishly tall but it was all she had.

“Do you like your clothes?” His voice was gruff and his tone was sharp. She wanted to hide in her cage.

“It’s not for me to like or dislike. I don’t have a choice.” Her voice was a careful monotone, her words chosen by long habit

“Today you do.” He seemed to be just as well trained as she, with his voice showing neither anger nor pleasure.

“I have nothing that I like better.”

He only grunted and turned away. She followed him to his truck, which looked even more intimidating in the light of day.

She scrambled into the passenger seat before he could help her and waited with eyes staring straight ahead as he stared at her from the open door. She didn’t want to see his face – disgust or annoyance were the best expressions she expected from him. Well, maybe, since it was Rafe, his face would be impassive. That was a blessing from him.

The trip into town took what seemed forever, and they pulled into a restaurant parking lot after half an hour. She was hungry, but the nerves made her stomach twist and turn.

He placed a large, work-roughened hand on her arm before she could get out. And she squeaked in surprise. She looked up at him, trembling, not meeting his eyes.

“Let me open your door.”. It was a command, not a request or an admonishment. Simply an instruction to follow, and she nodded silently.

When he opened her door, he held out his hand and she took it, leaning involuntarily into him as she stepped down.

“Good girl.” his voice was soft but firm and sure.

Hot blush overtook her and she stared at his boots – they were leather, but were dull and dirty. She frowned a bit.

“Take my arm.” She raised her head to find his elbow held out to her. Instinctively she gripped gently just below it with both hands, and her blush deepened as she realized how they must look – how SHE must beşiktaş escort look.

“Take a slow, deep breath.” He was looking down at her, his deep eyes so foreign to her and yet…so familiar.

She nodded and inhaled slowly and deep. The blush faded, and he took an unexpected step.

She hopped to keep up, her eyes on the ground ahead of them, and when he held the door open for her, she ducked swiftly through without thinking.

It made her blush again.

He waited for her to take his arm again, and she couldn’t cool her blush this time as he carefully led her to a booth and waited for her to sit first.

Why was he treating her this way? She was a slave, a slut who wanted to suck every man’s dick and get her pussy tore up on a daily basis. He was treating her like some kind of high-society lady.

He didn’t know her yet.

She looked at the menu lying on the table as if it were a viper ready to strike, and blinked in confusion as he took it away from her.

“Do you like meat?”

What the hell did that mean?

Maybe he meant it literally. She searched his face and saw no sign of mockery, and her mouth went dry. She nodded again, realizing that this man made her mute.

Incredible.

She watched his hands as he perused the menu. They were big, and strong, with broad fingers and some calluses, but not uncared for. His fingernails were neatly trimmed and clean. No overgrown cuticles. He gripped the menu gently but securely.

He could probably do a lot of things with those hands. Quickly. Efficiently. Thoroughly.

She bit her lower lip and dropped her eyes to her own hands.

She had bitten her nails to the quick and her skin was rough and dry. She clenched her small fists to hide her nails and put her hands into her lap.

“What can I getcha today honey?” The server was a bottle blonde, her unnaturally light hair piled into a messy bun at the top of her head. Cadence wondered if her hair got into peoples’ food.

“I’ll have a black coffee and she needs water. Also orange juice. We need a Lumberjack breakfast and an orange.”

“I like a man with a big appetite!” Her laugh was a sort of cackle, and she had chewing gum in her cheek.

“I’ll have a second plate with it. Thank you.” He put both menus into her hands and ignored her admiring looks. She walked away a bit huffy.

“We’ll spend the day shopping today. I’d like to make a few lists with you if you’re ready to.”

Her mouth opened but no sound could be pushed out. She nodded a third time, feeling stupid. As if she had a choice!

“Good.” He pulled a notepad and pencil from his back pocket and passed it to her. “I started it with some essentials. Give me your opinion and tell me what else you want.”

The list took five sheets of the little notepad, and at first she tentatively tried to remove the more expensive items, but he asked her why. He spoke to her softly, and while he was often curt, he was never scornful or dismissive.

She felt as if she were talking to someone’s father.

What if he *was* someone’s father?! What if he had a wife and kids in a house in the city, and she was just a burden to him at best, another mouth to feed, a charity case?

With that thought in her mind she spoke a bit more firmly, mainly concerning the budget for this shopping spree.

When the waitress arrived with his order, he had to lean back so that her breasts wouldn’t hit his face. Cadence was annoyed at the woman’s behavior – there was no excuse for it, and subtlety was lost.

She watched the waitress pose, hip and chest thrust toward poor Rafe, waiting for him to acknowledge her.

He didn’t. He took the empty plate and began dividing the contents of the full one onto it.

The woman was in a service position. Cadence understood service. “Thank you ma’am. We’re all set.” When the waitress glanced back at her, she merely smiled at the venom in the woman’s blue eyes until she grudgingly walked away.

Cadence’s hands were shaking under the table and she looked to see if Rafe objected to what she had done.

She was mesmerized by his hands, as he took up the fork and knife, cutting and transferring everything without a drop spilled, no mess. She felt oddly aroused, and she knew that she wanted him to touch her. That was the slut in her, coming out in response to his behavior.

She looked up to find Rafe staring at her, looking as if he was ready to smile. Her chin went up a notch, defensive and guilty at once. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. It will help me watch you eat.”

She blinked at that, confused. He was going to watch her eat every little piece?

He slid the plate in front of her and nudged her utensils. “Eat.”

Every bite was agonizing. She would watch him through her lashes, and his eyes followed her etiler escort every move. He watched her lips as she chewed, making her want to be still, making her want to lick her lips, making her hot from head to toe.

Finally she stopped eating, he hadn’t given her too much but she wasn’t going to die if she stopped, and she needed a rest from his eyes burning into her.

“Full?”

She nodded and kept her eyes down, lying a bit but not much.

They finished their list and she found that she liked to hear him talk. Each time he fell silent, she wanted to find something for him to talk about.

She found nothing, though, and they left as soon as the list was done.

He continued to treat her like a southern belle from another era, opening her door and helping her inside, insisting that she take his arm, doing nice things for her. He bought her a sunhat with pretty cornflowers in the band, and gardening gloves to match.

She was turned completely upside down by it all, and her heart ached on the drive back to the house in the lonely woods.

The cab of the truck smelled like him, some kind of cologne that she couldn’t identify. It kept her glancing at him, admiring his hands on the steering wheel and the muscles of his arms.

It was silent, and she ached to say something to him – but what? How to break the ice with one’s new owner? The thought would make her laugh if she weren’t so exhausted and if it weren’t true.

Was it true?

But then they had arrived and the work of hauling in purchases and putting them away began.

He took every heavy item away from her as soon as he caught her with it. It frustrated her now – he was so kind, but she was a slave, after all. She could work hard, and planned to, in order to make this place self-sustainable.

It had been a long day, full of emotional and mental ups and downs for her, and when she felt his arm reaching around her to take her bag, she jerked away, her heart racing and her head throbbing.

“I have got it, I’ve got this one and you can just get a different damn bag! I’m not a fucking princess, ok?!”

She stood there, breath catching in her throat, and unexplainable tears stinging her eyes. He was still as a stone, at his full height, looking down at her with his inscrutable expression.

“Good girl.”

Heat flooded her whole body and she couldn’t look at him, wanted to run far and fast away. Good girl? What was that supposed to mean? He was praising her for snapping at him?

She didn’t ask, just turned and carried the bag into the house.

The day was turning to dusk by the time they finished unloading all the items and putting most away. All of it was practical, and she didn’t feel guilty about any of it. He was using the winnings from the game.

“I’ll be staying until Monday,” she jumped when he walked into the kitchen behind her “so I will be cooking tonight.”

Her mind went blank with confusion. Rafe, cook? That was her job. Why was he staying? Did he think she couldn’t handle things on her own?

Did he want to use her tonight – sexually? Would he go back on his word?

She reddened and backed away from him. “Yes sir” she managed, before slipping around him to leave.

“Cadence.”

She turned to look at his broad shoulders. Silence won for a moment, until finally she squeaked “Yes sir?”

“Put a blanket and pillow on the couch for me.” He didn’t turn to look at her, and she couldn’t force her voice out, so she ran to obey.

Questions raced through her mind, filling her up until she thought she would explode. The main question was : Was she relieved, or disappointed, that he wouldn’t be sleeping in the bed?

She worked her way past her racing mind, pumping water into a tub, washing her dirty clothes. She was soaking wet and hanging them to dry when his voice startled her out of her focus.

“Cadence! Come in and eat.”

Inside the house, it was hot, and smelled like chili powder and cumin. She found him setting plates on the dining table full of rich, spicy food. It was so ironic to her, seeing this big, strong man handling such things.

She began to imagine how gentle he could be in other areas, and how thorough.

She kept her head down as they ate, and the silence weighed on her. She was afraid to break it.

“Did you bring your own toys?”

She dropped the spoon and choked, coughing on her mouthful of rice. It took a moment before she could glance at him through watery eyes. He was frowning at her.

“uh…i didn’t. I didn’t…want anything. Im sorry!” Her heart thumped into her throat and she gripped her water glass.

“That’s fine, don’t choke yourself to death. Take a drink.”

She obeyed, her eyes clearing.

“I wanted to know if you were settled in yet, because i didn’t see anything of yours unpacked besides the blanket and bathroom stuff.”

She felt a strange feeling of relief mixed with sadness. He was concerned for her welfare. He didn’t want to play with her.

“well, about that…i kind of feel…wrong to be here. I’m imposing on your hospitality.”

He snorted.

“My hospitality?”

He leaned forward and his dark eyes glittered.

“I am not a hospitable man.”

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