Jim headed right back to the workshop. He had a few finishing touches on the two items for tonight. Entering the shop he went to the monitor first, to check on her. She had another catalog open, slowly paging through it. He picked up the smaller object on the bench, wiping it clean. Except for the tag this one was done. The slightly yellowish tinge of the polished titanium alloy gleamed in the light. He set it down on a clean cloth and got out the epoxy glue mix, setting it next to the small coin sized radio frequency tracking tag. A clever invention, a small electronic device that was powered as it approached a sensor, then sent back a digital serial number, all wireless and very low powered, a range of only a few feet. He had wired the transmitters in the ceiling of most of the rooms, then experimented by carrying the tag around in his pocket. The computer had accurately tracked his every move, noting location and time of day whenever he entered or left one of the connected rooms. The device had no batteries, theoretically it could operate indefinitely. He mixed the epoxy and mounted the tag to the back of the item, on a small flat area he had machined in for just this purpose.
The larger item still needed a few adjustments. He checked the database of her measurements one more time, then compared it to the waistband. He would have to expand it by about half an inch. Fortunately he had made the original design with size adjustment in mind. He took down a mallet and punch from the tool wall. The adjusting segments used pins, so he could add an extra one on each side by knocking out the pin and adding in an extra segment. The waistband had to be an exact fit to work properly. The rest of the adjustments he had finished before the break.
While he worked he watched her on the monitor. He still couldn't believe his good fortune in finding someone like her. She was proving to be everything he dreamed of in a lifetime companion. On the monitor she stood and lazily stretched, then sat back down. She had to know there were cameras and he was watching her, but she didn't seem to be self-conscious about it. Was she attracted to him as much as he was to her? It was difficult to tell, but the times he had caught her off guard, how she had not pulled away, were good signs and he felt encouraged by it. Then there was the speed at which she adapted to being under his control, even to actively cooperating in how she broadly interpreted his orders and applied them to new situations. He couldn't understand her mindset but he had no reason to doubt it was genuine.
He checked the time, then began cleaning and polishing the waistband. He wanted to have everything ready before he took her out of her office room. There should be enough time to finish in the shop and clean up before he started dinner. Once this last item was done he had to box them, then get out the dinner clothes for her. He looked at the monitor again. She was looking though a catalog. He figured she was probably done with her assignment and keeping busy.
He completed his work in the shop, cleaned up the work area, and packaged the items. He took them to the small bedroom and put them in a cabinet just outside the door. He took out the dinner dress and a pair of earrings he had picked out for her, carrying them into the room and placing them in the closet. The handcuffs he had been using were still on the bed. He picked them up and went to get Sue Ann, closing the bedroom door on his way out.
He opened the office door. She turned to face him, a smile on her face showing she was happy he had come back for her. "We'll start dinner now. I want you to sit in the kitchen while I get the food started. Stand up and face the wall, hands behind your back." The handcuffs were in his hand. Without a word she stood up and waited quietly while he locked her wrists behind her back. He knelt down and reached under the desk to unlock the leg cuff in the retaining ring. He left the right side cuff on her ankle and locked the left side to her other leg. Standing up he took hold of her arm. "Okay, let's go out to the kitchen."
Sue Ann followed as he led her to the kitchen. He put her in the same kitchen chair from breakfast, but this time her hands were behind the back of the chair. While she watched he opened a bag of potatoes and put several on the counter, then proceeded to peel them in the sink. "I'm going to fix a favorite of mine, cheese potatoes, something like a casserole. Do you like different kinds of cheese?"
"Yes sir," she answered, "Cheddar of course, and mozzarella, Monterey Jack, all kinds." She shifted in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position with her hands behind her.
He stopped peeling the potatoes, staring at her. Had she done something, said something? Was he angry with her? She was about to ask when he put the potato peeler down and came over to her. Starting with the top button he undid her blouse slowly, while looking directly into her eyes. He stopped at the skirt, pausing before he pushed back the open portion of the blouse over her shoulders, exposing her breasts. She was acutely aware of her bound hands, her inability to stop what he was doing to her. He went back to the sink and continued preparing the food.
"Sir, may I ask a question?"
He rinsed off the potatoes and began slicing them. "go ahead, but remember I may not give you an answer."
"Yes sir. May I know why you did this, took off my blouse?"
He took down a casserole dish from a cupboard and began lining it with potato slices. He didn't answer immediately, concentrating on mixing the cheeses in the dish. He turned to look at her. "Because I can, and because I wanted to look at you. Because you can't stop me. Think of it as a lesson, Sue Ann. Anytime, anywhere, no matter what you are doing, in public or in private, first and foremost you belong to me and you will do whatever I tell you." He continued to layer potatoes and cheese in the dish.
She twisted her wrists inside the handcuffs. He was right about not stopping him, but she liked to think even without her hands being bound she would not have tried to resist. He didn't seem to understand she was more than willing to do anything he asked; he certainly did not have to force her. "Sir, another question?" With some difficulty she reached around with her cuffed hands so he could see them. "Why must I wear these?"
He turned to face her, but didn't answer. Had it been a mistake to ask that last question? Was he going to punish her for it? Suddenly worried, she lowered her eyes, not looking directly at him.
"Strictly speaking, you must wear them because you can't take them off. At least not without this." He held up a handcuff key and laughed. "But to answer your question, you wear them as a reminder. A reminder you are not free to choose for yourself, that even your own body is mine to command. I think you already know better than to ask me to take those cuffs off, just from the way you phrased the question. Just so we are clear, don't ever ask me to take of those handcuffs, or anything else I put on you."
He finished the potato dish with a few spices on the top, covered it, and put the casserole in the oven to cook. "That should take at least an hour, which should be enough time to get you ready for dinner." He pulled up her blouse but left it unbuttoned. "Stand up, we'll go to the other room. I have something for you."