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From: "Leviticus" <leviticus1@uswest.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} To Catch Rhianna   Part 8   (BDSM)
Date: Thu, 27 Jul 2000 09:10:02 -0400
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To Catch Rhianna  part 8



The thing about showers, if you happen to be taking one when you are alone,
is how often something demands your attention just as you've doused your
hair with shampoo rendering you half blind.  Usually this is something like,
your dog knocking over an expensive vase, or the phone ringing, or, in this
case, the doorbell.

Bart Maxell washed the suds from his face and grabbed a towel on his way to
the front door.  He had been staying in Rhianna's apartment for almost a
week now and was wondering if she was going to make it back before he had to
leave.  Her office wasn't very helpful in giving him a time frame for when
she was due back; he was told that it could be any time.

He didn't like that.

But he wasn't thinking about this as he padded to the front door dressed
only in a hastily wrapped wet towel.  Instead, he wondered if this was the
elusive Mrs. Slocume Rhianna had told him about, and he wondered what her
reaction would be at seeing him like this.

Bart was almost looking forward to it.

He opened the door with a big smile on his face, expecting some little old
lady to be staring back at him in horror, and instead found a man of his own
height and build.

The man looked startled and checked the number on the door before looking
back at Bart.

Bart on his part was a little embarrassed and decided that it was a little
too late to think about his dignity, but he straightened up anyway.

"Hi, how can I help you?"  Bart asked.

"This IS Rhianna Summer's apartment, isn't it?" the man asked back.

"You've got the right place!" Bart said cheerfully, wondering who the joker
was.

The man's expression darkened a little, and he leaned forward.  "Then who
the hell are you, and what are you doing in my wife's apartment?"



---***---



Matthew Anderson wandered around Rhianna's living room while the man he
found almost naked got dressed in the bedroom.

He was angry, yet that anger was tempered with the knowledge that he and
Rhianna had an unusual relationship.  On again off again didn't quite
describe what they had.

He loved her, and he was pretty sure he held a place in her heart, but she
had never come out and pledged herself to him, even though they had gotten
married, in a way.

Matthew chuckled.  Saying they were married had certainly shocked the other
guy, and Matt was glad he used the line.

The guy's eyes almost popped out of his head before he begged a few minutes
to go change.

Matthew wondered if it was worth stringing him along, or if it was better to
tell the guy off the bat that he and Rhianna weren't legally married
anyplace but on a certain mountain in Colorado.

At that moment, the man emerged in jeans and a damp T-shirt, a towel in one
hand as he dried his hair.  The guy looked confused but surprisingly in
control.

"I see you made yourself at home?" Bart asked his visitor, glancing at the
open front door where he had left him.

"Why not, it's my home too?"  Matthew said, deciding to keep up the fiction.

"Rhianna never said anything to me about being married," Bart said, closing
the front door.

"And if she had?"  Matthew asked him.

Bart colored, and Matthew could tell he was upset.

"If you guys ARE married, I'm sure she would have told me.  She's not the
kind of person who would run around and cheat on someone," Bart said.

"You're right, she isn't," Matthew agreed, hoping it was true.

Bart looked at him, confused.  "Then are you her husband or not?"

"No," Matthew said after a pause, "but we did get married as a part of one
of her cases once."

"Oh, OH!" Bart said, relief coming off him in waves.  "Then you must be one
of her FBI partners."

"Something like that," Matthew said cautiously.

"You gave me a scare there."  Bart grinned and held out a hand.  "I'm Bart
Maxell, I'm in the business too.  Deputy Sheriff, Hanson County."

"Matthew Anderson," replied Matt, watching Bart's eyes as he shook the man's
hand.  He saw no sign of recognition in Bart's eyes to his name, and
wondered just how close Rhianna played things.  Didn't she talk about him at
all?  Was she that ashamed of knowing an ex-criminal?  "So where is
Rhianna?"

"Didn't you know?  She's out on assignment someplace.  I thought you guys
usually kept track of each other."

"I'm from out of town.  So, you're house sitting for her?"

"Not exactly, came for a visit and she left the day I arrived.  I've been
waiting here in the hope she turns back up, but no luck so far."  Bart
headed for the kitchen.  "You want a beer?"

"Sure!  So you're just a friend of hers then?"

"Well," Bart said, his grin coming back as he handed Matthew a cold can,
"more than friends.  In fact, the reason I came up here was to ask her to
marry me, but don't you go telling her!"

Matthew felt a stab to his heart at Bart's casual mention of marriage, yet
he hid his response.

"Congratulations.  Have you both been talking about marriage?"

"Rhianna?  Talk about marriage?  You must not know her very well.  She's a
hard woman to read sometimes and we've never seriously talked about getting
together.  Yet I have a feeling that, given the chance, she might say yes."

"Yeah, she's a hard woman to read alright," agreed Matthew.

"So what brings you here?"  Bart asked him, settling into a chair.

Matthew tried to think.  He had come here with the same intent, to ask
Rhianna to make their marriage a permanent thing, to take her home with him
to Colorado where they could live together in happiness.

It didn't seem the thing to say to this cheerful guy.

"I hadn't seen her for a while, and I was in the city," Matthew eventually
said.

"Well I'll tell her you stopped by, if I see her before I leave.  It's funny
though, she said it would only be two or three days and it's been almost a
week."

"Do you know where she's gone?"

"Nope.  And her office isn't giving anything away either.  Not even my badge
will pry any information out of those assholes.  Sorry, no offense."

Matthew chuckled, despite the turmoil in his gut.  "That's okay."

"Say, since you play on the same team as her, perhaps you could find out
where she is, or at least when she might be due back?"

Matthew was about to say no, when he got an idea.  "I can try!"

He went to the phone and picked it up.  Dialing a number from memory he got
through to the New York FBI offices.  "Assistant Director Vessor, please."

"Vessor, that's the guy that gave her the job!"  Bart said.

Matthew nodded, but was listening to the phone.  "Okay, thanks," he said
after a moment, and hung up.

"Giving up?"  Bart asked.

"No, but Vessor isn't in today.  I'll have to try back."

"Too bad," Bart said, draining his beer.

Matthew put down his almost untouched beer, it wasn't as good as the stuff
made at home, and moved to the front door.  "I need to go now."

"If you hear anything," Bart said to him, "I'll be here another night.  I'd
appreciate it."

Matthew turned and appraised the man who was Rhianna Summer's lover.  He
looked strong, and handsome, and had a personality that Matthew was sure
gave Rhianna pleasure.  Bart was good for her, which made it harder to bear.

"Sure," he said simply, opening the door and stepping out, "and thanks for
the beer."


---***---


They had been at sea for several days now, although it was hard for Rhianna
to keep track.  Inside her bulk storage container it was as black as night
except for the lamp always on by the door.  And when Mandy, her jailer came
in to feed her it was always day outside, the sun blinding the bound woman
whenever the door opened.

Rhianna was miserable.  Her shoulders ached from having her hands cuffed
behind her all the time, her feet and knees were bruised and scraped up
because of the rough metal deck, and she was also suffering from motion
sickness.  She stank and felt horribly dirty, and her ass burned because she
was unable to wipe herself there.  The container itself stank too of
whatever it was it last held, and the sickly odor combined with the smell of
her own wastes in the far corner to keep Rhianna on an empty stomach.

She wasn't keeping much down beyond water, and she knew her strength was
failing her.  She still had her anger though, at being taken like this.
Looking back the trap had been so obvious.  It had all been so easy, the
trail of clues leading to Kopachi and on to Mandy, no wonder her abductors
had known she was coming.  The clues were so obvious that even a TV
detective could have followed them.

Often during the trip, Rhianna beat herself mentally over her stupidest
mistake, giving up her weapon back on Townsend's island.  It was a rookie
mistake, one that cost her.

The door opened, sending a spear of sunshine directly into Rhianna's eyes,
and in strode Mandy, wearing her usual long sleeved shirt and jeans.  The
woman wrinkled her nose.  "Damn it stinks in here!" she said, laughing.

Rhianna said nothing; she just crouched in her cage where she spent most of
her time.

"You stink too," Mandy said, putting a bowl of food down on the deck.  "You
need a bath!"

"Fuck you," Rhianna said with feeling.

"That's the idea, slave girl!"  Mandy laughed again and Rhianna's anger
stirred even more.

For days she had put up with Mandy's snide comments and name calling, not to
mention the indignities of being probed and examined by the bitch.  That
Rhianna was heading into a very unknown future of sexual slavery wasn't
nearly as upsetting to her as this woman was.  It seemed to her sometimes
that Satan himself must have sent this woman personally to get on her
nerves.  After a few days, Rhianna's perceptions of reality were becoming a
little fuzzy.

Mandy left the container for a moment and then came back in dragging a hose
behind her.  Keeping Rhianna in the cage, Mandy opened up the hose to spray
cold water all over the naked FBI agent.

Rhianna bucked and shuddered as the water hit, trying unsuccessfully to hide
herself from the water stream, yet when it hit her ass she almost welcomed
it, and allowed Mandy to clean her up down there.

"Look at that cunt, it needs a good scrubbing!"  Mandy yelled over the
spray, and she tossed something she had been holding where Rhianna could see
it in the light.

It was a big deck brush, large stiff bristles mounted to a wooden base.
Rhianna recoiled at the thought of it being used on her.  Something that
coarse would scrape skin off her, especially between her legs.  She knew; it
had been done to her before!

Mandy turned off the hose, and began coiling it up.

Rhianna had to talk.  "It's not too late, you know, you can still set me
free.  Release me and I'll put in a good word with you."

"Oh shut the fuck up, slave!"

"Kidnapping a Federal Agent is a big offense, they won't stop looking for
me.  You can only do yourself good if you let me go."

"Yeah, so you've said every damn day we've been together."

"It's true.  You let me go, and I can help you."  Rhianna forced herself to
look Mandy in the eye.  Surprisingly enough, the woman seemed to be
listening to her.

After a moment, Mandy shook her head.  "No, any jail time is bad for me, I'd
rather take my chances."

Rhianna was desperate, and Mandy's slight change in attitude was the first
ray of hope she had seen since she was locked in the cage.

"If you let me go, I'll...do the same for you," Rhianna whispered.

"You're kidding!"

"No.  I'm serious."

Mandy cocked her head to one side.  "You are, aren't you.  You'd really do
it, you'd really let me go, Scot-free!"

Rhianna held her breath and nodded.

After a moment, Mandy walked toward her and pulled a set of keys from her
pocket.  "Okay, but it isn't going to be easy.  I can't just up and let you
go, not here aboard ship; I'm not the only one who knows about you.  Some of
the crew do to.

"You'll have to make it look like you escaped.  If you make it to the
bridge, you can talk to the Captain, he's on the up and up.  He'll see that
you're safe.  But avoid the rest of the crew, you won't know who to trust."

"Why can't I stay in here until we land?" Rhianna asked, astonished that her
pleas had worked on the verbally abusive woman.

"Because when we do, someone else takes over from me.  If you want me to
free you, then it has to be here.  You have to get to the Captain."

"Why don't you bring him here?"

"It isn't worth my life, slave...Rhianna.  I'm watched too."

Mandy unlocked the chain attached to Rhianna's ankle and undid the cuffs
holding her wrists behind her.

Rhianna groaned as her stiff muscles protested against the movement.
"Clothes?"

"I'm being watched, I told you.  I have no reason to bring you clothes, so
they'd know something was up if I tried.  You have to make it on your own!"

Rhianna crawled out of the cage, dripping wet, and carefully stood up.
Mandy walked around and stood face to face with her.  "Remember, you said
you'd let me go free," she told the agent.

Rhianna nodded.

Mandy surprised her by giving her a brief hug before stepping back.  "Good
luck, but if you get caught, I have to go along with the escape story, you
understand?"

"Yeah, I understand."

Rhianna padded forward on her bare feet to the door, hesitating before
opening it.  "Is there anyone watching?"

"No.  No one at this end of the ship.  The crew is all aft in the
superstructure."

Rhianna nodded and pushed against the heavy door.  It opened with a screech
and Rhianna slipped out through a gap just big enough to get through,
scraping her bare nipples on the metal door as she did so.  It was just
another reminder of her nudity.

The sun was shining brightly and the air was salty and fresh.  Rhianna
stopped and took in the warmth and the fresh air like a woman denied, which
she had been.  Her stomach growled and she still felt weak, but being out in
the open helped with her motion sickness.  Half her life had been spent at
sea, but being seasick was new to her.  She was glad to see that it had been
because she was locked in the container.

Glancing around at the forest of other containers like hers that were
chained to the deck, Rhianna moved away, not seeing Mandy in the doorway.

If she had looked back, she might have thought differently about trusting
her jailer, for Mandy's smile wasn't one of hope, but one of pure mirth.



---***---



Matthew Anderson stood on the city street, looking up at the brownstone
residence in front of him.  While traffic hummed behind him, Matthew
considered walking up to the front door and knocking.  It had taken a few
phone calls, some called in favors, but he had succeeded in locating where
James Vessor called home.  The man had been more reclusive than Matthew had
thought; his address was hard won.

Yet, Matthew wondered if he dared go up there.  Vessor was someone he knew
socially, a man he could almost have called a friend at one point, if Vessor
could be said to have friends.  Matt owed the man a lot.  Vessor's testimony
at Matt's trial for smuggling two and a half years ago had resulted in Matt
getting a very light sentence for his crimes.  Further still, Vessor had
intervened once more and managed to get Matthew transferred to his home town
so he could serve the last six months in comfort, a reward for helping
Rhianna Summer out on another case.

Because of this, the usually confident Matthew Anderson felt reluctant to
ask even more of the man, especially in his own home.  Yet, something about
Rhianna been gone longer than expected nagged at him.  Unlike Bart, Matthew
knew very well the types of cases Rhianna usually got, having been one of
Rhianna's first himself.  It had been a successful case for her, resulting
in him getting some jail time.  She had caught her smuggler, and Matthew's
heart!

Matthew couldn't ignore the feeling in his gut.  He moved to the front steps
of the brownstone and formulated his plan.  He'd just call on Vessor to
express his thanks for all the man's help, and after a bit steer the
conversation toward Rhianna.  It would be natural to ask where she was,
wouldn't it?

Matthew rang the doorbell and waited for a minute, scanning the traffic that
passed by on the street.

The door opened, and Matthew stepped inside.




End of Part 8

Catch up on all my stories at http://www.dajungle.com/stories/leviticus
If you're having problems contacting me, try leviticusthebard@hotmail.com

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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