“I won’t, not any more. I’m going to be good.”
“You’re still my prisoner.” He opened a cupboard and removed something metallic—four shiny bands.
“What are they?” she asked nervously.
“You can get dressed and I’ll explain.”
Easing into her pants, she listened. “These are restraints. They’re magnetic and programmed to attract to each other. Two bracelets, two anklets. When I hit a button on this remote,” he held up a tiny device, “the bracelets snap together. Another click and the anklets do the same. You won’t be able to walk or separate your wrists. An instant confinement. They’re only attracted to each other, so don’t worry, you’ll not stick to anything else magnetic.”
“Oh, good, I suppose,” she said, rather impressed by the design. She finished dressing.
“Tamperproof, too,” he added quickly. “They can’t be removed without the pattern lock and that’s up here.” He tapped his forehead. “Put them on.” He held the thin bands out to her.
Jade looped them around her wrists and ankles and they instantly locked snugly and with reasonable comfort.
“Let me demonstrate.” He pressed the remote and her wrists flew together, palms clapping. She tried to force them apart, but it was impossible. When he hit the button again, her feet slid together, binding her ankles tight. She was hobbled, unable to walk and barely able to stand. She swayed and he released the magnetic forces, freeing her to move.
“Wow, that’s powerful.” A question entered her mind and she furrowed her eyebrows.
“What?” he asked.
“If you have these available, why did you lock me in a cell?”
“Protocol dictates that when the stasis system fails, fugitives are to be held in cells. When the cells are full, the least violent prisoners can be shackled with those bands.”
“But you locked me in a cell and I’m not violent,” Jade said indignantly.
“The cells weren’t full,” he stated simply.
“You like rules, don’t you, Marshal.”
“I sure do, Jade. So there will be rules for you to follow if you’re going to be my mechanic and if you break any one of them—”
“I get my ass spanked?” she completed. “I guess I best pay attention to your rules then.”
There was one other question floating in the back of her head and she daren’t ask it. Why did Mason have an inflatable butt plug so readily available?
* * *
Rules brought order to chaos, which in outer space was essential. How else could any one power govern this part of the galaxy if there was no control over billions of people? There weren’t just planets, there were numerous space stations dotted about linking communications and supplies across the four sectors that made up the Novador Federation.
Mason believed in rules. They served a purpose at any level. However, in order for rules to work, they needed the right people in the right roles, hence the plethora of Stratums that both Novador and his home planet, Ixzar, enforced.
He wasn’t convinced that Jade could follow rules. She had it in her to be submissive—the manner in which she acquiesced for her punishment impressed him and it was obvious it elicited an arousal in her. It was her behavior the rest of the time that bothered him. It wasn’t exactly obstructive or subversive, more tactless and irresponsible.
After he’d let her dress, he escorted her back to the cell. He couldn’t lock her in, since the system was still down. She looked exhausted. Sexy, too, with her hair hanging around her pretty face. She kept trying to straighten her shoulders, showing him her resilience, but given the hiding, her ass must hurt. She lay face down on the cot.
“I’ll check in on you later and we’ll discuss how to proceed.” He hovered by the door, resisting the temptation to kneel next to the bed and stroke or pet her in some way, reassure her that things would be all right, now that they’d come to an understanding about her imprisonment.
She muttered something. He didn’t push to find out what it was. Distance was required, not physical contact. She’d probably tell him to leave her alone anyway. He wouldn’t blame her if she did.
Returning a few hours later, he saw she’d showered and changed into different clothes. The color had returned to her previously ashen cheeks and she rose to her feet when he entered the small room.
Mason cleared his throat. “Right. This is how it will go from now on. You sleep here, but we’ll eat together. There’s a small mess hall at the end of the corridor. Three meals a day, no skimping. You look like you skimp.” She wasn’t skinny, but she couldn’t afford to lose weight. “You work on the systems—we’ll prioritize the ones needing the most attention.”
She went to fold her arms across her chest, then she appeared to change her mind, and tucked them behind her back instead. “I’d prefer my own tools, the ones on Stealth.”
“Stealth?”