Message-ID: <25532asstr$964703402@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Delivered-To: fixup-ckought69@hotmail.com@fixme X-Original-Message-ID: <001f01bff791$e6a5b000$e6e2a1d8@leviticus> From: "Leviticus" <leviticus1@uswest.net> MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V5.50.4133.2400 Subject: {ASSM} To Catch Rhianna Part 8 (BDSM) Date: Thu, 27 Jul 2000 09:10:02 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/25532> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, IceAltar, kelly 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 -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+