Dime In Change
The Next Weekend
Friday afternoon, while the building was emptying fast, Roy casually walked by Dale’s cubicle to say hello and ask if she would like to go to dinner.
“I’d love to,” came her expected reply. She took a deep breath before risking it all. “What about a weekend instead of a dinner?” How would he react at her being so forward? Roy wasn’t stupid; he’d see all the implications in that question.
He didn’t answer immediately. Finally, Roy spoke up. “I’d like that. How about I pick you up at seven o’clock? The restaurant I have in mind is one of those jacket and tie places. Seems we have reason to celebrate.”
Dale had rolled the dice and it came up seven, a winner. “By the way, I have something for you.” She reached into her purse and withdrew a small, white cardboard square. “I was thinking about your half dollar. Back in 1833 that was a lot of money. I felt you should have a dime to go with it. Who knows, maybe whoever spent that half dollar received this dime in change.”
Roy recognized the diminutive coin in the holder, a silver “capped bust” dime. She had found the same date, 1833, making it the perfect companion. It was tarnished and worn, in what could be called “average” condition, but given it was nearly 200 years old that was to be expected.
“The dealer checked it for authenticity. He said it is 89% silver, a bit underweight from being circulated, the right diameter plus the front and back lettering do match the pictures in his book. Short of sending it in for grading he did all the usual tests to make sure it’s genuine.”
“It will have an honored place next to the half dollar. You have to be there to see it take its rightful place in the safe.” Roy flipped the coin over to inspect the reverse, which was in slightly better condition.
“I was hoping for an invitation. There’s one more thing.” Dale slid a small box across her desk toward Roy. “This is for later…sir.” She looked around to make sure no one was nearby.
Roy picked it up and shook it. The rattle suggested there was more than one object inside. “Both keys, sir. Please, take care with them.” She ran her hands down the sides of her skirt. “There are no other copies. I’m sure you appreciate how important they are to me.”
He was all too aware of what those keys were for, and what Dale wore underneath that skirt. Both keys, that’s a step up. Last time she only brought one with her.
Reprise
Dale stood next to Roy, examining the pair of old coins side by side. “A few more and you’ll have the entire set for the year.” She held up the dime.
“What else goes with it?” She watched Roy more than the coins. Although she wasn’t certain how he’d react to the dime, it was obvious it meant something to him. Her hunch turned out to be right. “Is there a nickel, a quarter, and a silver dollar too?”
“They weren’t called nickels back then. Instead, it was a ‘half dime’, made of silver but very small, half the size of this dime. There is a quarter but no dollar. There wasn’t that much demand for dollars; that was quite a bit of money. In the 1830s the country didn’t have all that much silver or gold either. This was before the gold rush in California, and the silver mines in Nevada. There were high denomination gold coins, like the five dollar ‘half liberty’ and the two fifty ‘quarter liberty’, but the price today of those is astronomical. Oh yeah, there were copper one cent and half cent pieces. Imagine that, half a penny was worth something.”
Ever so cautiously Dale leaned forward to pick up the half dollar, bumping against Roy quite by intentional accident. “History seems to be repeating itself. I can’t remember the last time I saw one of those modern dollar coins in change. Even the Kennedy halves are rare. I suppose with everyone using plastic now coin collectors will be faced with a shortage in the future.”
Roy took the half dollar out of her hand and placed both coins in the safe. In their place he took out a familiar blue box. Placing it on the table he added the small cardboard box Dale had given him earlier. “We all learn from history. From time to time a review of events from as little as a week ago can lead to valuable life lessons.” The way he stared at Dale left no doubt as to what kind of lesson he had in mind.
She met his stare without flinching. Nothing more needed to be said. Her tacit silence signaled agreement. Her overnight bag sitting in a corner left no doubts.
Roy picked up that small box and slid it in next to the coins, in the safe. To her surprise he pushed the safe door closed and spun the dial. “There, you can rest easy, one of the keys is, literally, safe. I’ve been thinking about you all week,” he began. “I have a gift for you too. Maybe ‘gift’ isn’t the right word though. I’ll leave it to you to decide. Meanwhile, why don’t we adjourn to the other room?” He nodded toward the heavy wooden door that led to familiar surroundings.
“Sir, before we start, I found this cute jail inmate uniform online. May I change first? It’s in my bag.”
An inmate uniform? Dale was certainly taking this whole jail cell scenario seriously. Roy was happy to go along. “You can change in the cell block. I’ll wait here until you’re ready.”
Reverie
The inmate uniform consisted of a skimpy dress that, from the sleeveless halter top to the short hemline that ended well above her knees, barely covered her. She had picked it out from a costume website purely for the amount of skin left uncovered, compared to what little the flimsy material did conceal. The one touch she thought might give Roy a laugh, stenciled on the front of the dress was the word “Jail”. The back, being mostly bare skin, didn’t have room for any embellishment.
No jail in the country would be able to get away with a uniform like this, she thought. None except Roy’s private substation, that is. The costume was definitely intended for bedroom role play, which fit in with Dale’s overall intentions. Her primary reason for picking it out, though, had more to do with her own secret fantasy.
Dale stood in the center of the cell, watching while Roy turned the key in the door. He’d put considerable work into restoring the old police substation back to the 1950’s style, including the jail cells. The work was as authentic as he could manage, using copies of pictures from local newspaper archives that featured the station when it was still in business.
The cell was as drab and bare as on the previous occasion she’d been confined behind those bars. None of the comforts of a home away from home. She smiled at the thought. Even with the “spare every expense” interior decorating motif this was fast becoming her special place, an escape from the outside world.
“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?” Roy suggested. “Have a seat on the bench. There’s something I need to take care of. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Don’t go away!”
His tone was lighthearted, but indirectly it did emphasize the unlikely possibility she would leave. Roy disappeared with her street clothes, closing the wooden cell block door on his way out. Purely to satisfy her own curiosity she went to the front, grabbed the bars and pushed on them with all her strength.
Nothing happened. It might be old but the lock, and the steel bars, were in fine working order. She stuck an arm through the bars, trying to reach the table and the drawer with the door keys. Dale was certain Roy wouldn’t make a simple mistake like that, the table was well beyond her reach, yet there was a certain satisfaction in verifying he treated her wish to be confined seriously.
Her purse was on that table too, with her phone inside. Tantalizingly close but just far enough away to frustrate her. With a shrug she gave up any hope of checking her messages. After all, prisoners weren’t allowed mobile phones. She could always call out, begging for him to come back and let her go, or at least let her use her phone. Sure, I can do that, and ruin any chance of going further with Roy. Or he might disregard my pleas entirely. She paused to consider the implications if he chose to ignore the matter of her consent. That might lead to interesting possibilities.
Why did he leave her alone? She gripped the bars again, taking comfort in the solid feel of her small cage. He wouldn’t abandon her in here all night; that she was positive would not happen. How long he chose to keep her waiting was another matter, and one now entirely beyond her control. With that in mind Dale walked back to the bench and took a seat. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.
While she’d known Roy for some time, it had always been in the office. One week socializing after hours and look at me now, happily content as a prisoner in his private jail. At this rate, I’ll soon be…what? Dale didn’t have an answer to that particular question. Whatever awaited her, it would be Roy’s responsibility.
Under the uniform her chastity belt pressed against her abdomen, not painful but it was a constant reminder of its presence whenever she sat down. For the first time ever, she had no way to remove it and no prospect of ever seeing the key to it again. Had it been wise to hand over both keys to Roy? Probably not, but other factors overrode her better judgment. He was inside her head, working some kind of magic, forcing her to do whatever she could to please him. The compulsion was so powerful it left Dale questioning her sanity.
So, I’m going insane. She opened her eyes, once more confronted by the image of those steel rods caging her in. At least I’m in the right place if I lose my mind. She’d never been in jail before now, so what was it that drove her to fantasize about prison cells, windowless concrete walls, steel bars, and always with a male guard constantly patrolling the corridor on the other side of those bars? There was something, she couldn’t quite put it into words, about being subject to the authority of those men whose only job was to deprive her of freedom and privacy. Aloof, impersonal, the faces in her dreams were always inscrutable behind their sunglasses, never revealing the slightest hint of emotion in their concealed expressions.
Sometimes they would take away her skimpy prison uniform, leaving her exposed except for the chastity belt. Covering herself when they walked by was forbidden. And then there was that chastity belt. They had the keys; far from offering some tiny scrap of modesty it only served as a reminder of what she could offer these men, if and when they acted on impulse. That was the frustration in her fantasy; they never came for her in the night.
Dale had seen the way Roy’s face lit up when she had handed over the belt key last week. There was no way he could have misunderstood why she gave it to him. Yet he hadn’t used it; something she still hadn’t figured out. It was always a difficult decision, if she should sleep with a guy she’d been dating. In Roy’s case that question was answered when, without even thinking about it, she found herself gripped by that need for domination, to reveal her secret and hand over the key to him.
Yet he’d chosen to leave her in the grip of what she increasing regarded as a cruel torture. The irony wasn’t lost on her. She wanted him, but for once it wasn’t up to her. As long as she had to wear that belt the issue of sex was entirely up to Roy. She could see the lust in his eyes when he looked at her; that wasn’t the problem.
It could be Roy’s own moral code that held him back. She did sense his reluctance to go beyond a certain point, even though she had done her best to show him it met with her approval. Dale still had another weekend to work on overcoming his inhibitions. With any luck the extremely suggestive prisoner outfit should help in convincing him to unlock her belt.
The Man in Black
When Dale heard the outer door open, she immediately sat up, eyes open. In came Roy, except she barely recognized him. He had on a black uniform, with the trouser legs tucked inside high, brightly polished jackboots. Around his waist was one of those leather basket weave police belts, with a number of holders attached to it. He even wore some kind of badge pinned to his shirt. But the most striking change was the pair of mirrored sunglasses concealing his eyes.
He projected an aura of authority and power that pushed every button in Dale’s head. The sight of him, all in black, the facial expression hidden behind the glasses, was having a profound effect on her, and she couldn’t halt it. Virtually in shock at his transformation all she could do was stare.
It was straight out of her dreams. There he was, the officer calmly standing on the other side of those bars, silently inspecting his prisoner. It was her ultimate dream of unquestioned authority, come to life. How could he have known? Dale had never revealed her deepest secret to anyone, yet Roy had discovered it in one week.
He quietly stood in front of the cell bars, arms folded, staring at her intently. Or she assumed so, since she couldn’t actually see his eyes behind the glasses. Dale was transfixed by his towering presence. It had to be her imagination yet he seemed to be much taller, larger than life. She was so overcome with this new Roy she was frozen in place, unable to move or speak.
“Stand up,” he ordered. There was a subtle shift in his voice, or was it only her imagination? Whatever the reason, the overwhelming urge to obey him stripped her of any lingering resistance. Dale didn’t even realize she was standing until his next order came.
“Prisoners must be searched for contraband. Remove your uniform, fold it neatly and place it on the bench.” Once more his instructions were delivered in that matter-of-fact way that assumed she would obey.
He expected some kind of push back, a protest or at least a show of reluctance. One look at her dress was all it took to convince anyone she had nothing to hide. What Roy wasn’t prepared for was the rate at which Dale’s clothing was swiftly reduced to nothing more than the chastity belt. That she couldn’t remove, since she’d given him the keys.
Roy watched every moment, mostly with a sense of having walked into the Twilight Zone. What he had expected was a laugh and a few jokes aimed at his play-acting the jailer. Instead, he’d stumbled into…what? If only Rod Serling would step out of the shadows and explain it all, but this wasn’t a 1960’s TV show.
What now? Roy thought, furiously trying to figure out the next move. He hadn’t planned ahead because he didn’t anticipate she would take him seriously. That was the problem when acting in haste. So, what was the most logical explanation for Dale’s sudden change?
That’s when it all fell into place. Roy opened the cell door and went in to face her. He pulled open the cover on one of the holders attached to his belt. Reaching down he pulled out the handcuffs from the belt carrier. “It will be necessary to restrain you during the search. This is for your safety. It is important that you follow my instructions. If you resist, force will be used, which could lead to injury.” Not that he had any real intention of hurting her, but it sounded authentic, something a real jail guard might say.
Dale’s eyes were fixed on the now familiar handcuffs in Roy’s hand. She instantly recognized them from last week, when she spotted them in his safe. Circumstances had changed. The first time she had been the one asking to try them out; this time she wasn’t the one asking. Roy might not be a real police officer but she didn’t care. She had been transported to an alternate reality where he was as real as the cell around her.
“Turn around, hands behind your back.” Dale didn’t even have to think about it. The click of the ratchet as the cuffs closed around her wrists was loud in the silence of the jail cell. In a flash her hands were bound together in the small of her back. With anyone else she’d be terrified at the prospect of being stripped and chained, confined in a cage, yet with Roy it felt natural, the way it should be, the right way, with him cautiously explaining what she must do.
No, not quite, she told herself. The man behind her wasn’t Roy so much as he was The Officer from her fantasy, the all-powerful man who would bend her to his will using nothing more than his presence and that confident, commanding voice. His hands gripped her upper arms, holding her in an unbreakable grip with his vastly superior strength. All my life, I’ve waited for this moment. Dale was powerless to resist him, but it felt as normal to her as breathing.
Then he was so close, she could feel his body pressing against her. “You are an exceptional woman,” he whispered in her ear. “You are all a man could wish for, and more. It was pure chance a twist of fate brought us together. So many times, we could have gone another way, leaving both of us alone and yearning for what might be forever unobtainable. Right now, this very second, all that matters are the two of us, no one else.”
Dale felt as though she was being carried away on a magic carpet woven from his soft voice in her ear. Every word went deep into her mind, unfiltered, as if it were an eternal, instinctive truth. There was nothing more important than for him to deliver the truths she had been deprived of for so many years.
She was aware of his firm grip on her upper arms, holding her in place. If she tried to move, he would immediately clamp down and stop her. That was as it should be. He was Authority, with a capital “A”, the one who must be obeyed without question or hesitation. They each had a role: his to lead, hers to follow; neither could fulfill their part without the other. If she strayed, he would bring her back to the path he laid before her. That was his job; that was why he was in charge.
A Whisper
“Close your eyes. Remain silent. Listen only to me,” Roy softly spoke in her ear, “and put everything else out of your head.” He ran his hands up her arms to her bare shoulders. “You don’t have any secrets from me, not any longer. All you’ve ever dreamed of, the days and nights looking for that one thing missing from your life, are right here, right now.”
Roy moved his hands to her hips and the waistband of the chastity belt. In her other ear he went on. “From now on, the voice you hear will be a constant companion in your mind. It is the sound of the one man you cannot ignore. It speaks with an authority that pushes aside any objection, any question as to right or wrong. It is the voice of your conscience, encouraging, warning, providing the guidance you have longed for.”
Using his hands he lifted her up and turned her around. His body pressed against her, pinning her to the wall. With one hand under her chin, he tilted back her head until she was staring into those sunglasses. She could see her reflection, although it didn’t register.
Dimly she was aware of the chastity belt being slipped off her waist. There was a clanking sound when it landed on the bench but Dale paid no attention. Only the tone of his voice, the words of immense value, like nuggets of audio gold, carried any importance.
Then the sunglasses were gone. In their place were his green eyes, peering deep into her soul. “I am the man you have sought for your whole life. I don’t explain, I don’t justify, I claim what is mine by no justification other than what is due me. You feel it, don’t you? You are drawn to it, a strength greater than your will, a force that cannot be resisted. In your mind there will never be a question of if. You will obey me because there can be no other alternative for you. When doubts arise, this is the silent whisper you hear, that reminds you the one who has power over you has spoken and the matter is settled.”
Dale couldn’t look away. Their eyes were locked together, bound as securely as her hands behind her back. Everything he said was affecting her at a level she had never encountered before. Yet there was no confusion, no misunderstanding. She was learning the one way, the right way, and nothing distracted her.
Then he was touching her, a fingertip between her breasts, a gentle line drawn down her inner thigh, the feathery brush of fingers against the inside of a knee. Simple gestures, but in her state the sensations were overpowering. She wanted desperately to throw her arms around his neck and draw him into her, but it wasn’t possible. There was a chain between her wrists, behind her back. He hadn’t given his permission; she must be content with whatever he allowed.
Then powerful hands gripped her hips and lifted her up. His body pressed her against the wall; she could feel the rough concrete blocks on her back and arms. In the next instant they were joined together. Passion challenged her self-control; she struggled to hold in what would otherwise be screams of passion. You must remain silent, her words delivered in his voice echoed in her ears. Then she was somewhere else, outside her body, floating in some other space, carried away from reality in an orgasmic journey.
The Same Yet Oh So Different
When Dale opened her eyes, she was back on the jail cell bench. The handcuffs were gone. She wore her inmate uniform, and underneath it the chastity belt pressing against her. He must have ordered her to get dressed, but the memory of it eluded her.
How did I get here? she wondered. All kinds of strange thoughts were racing around in her brain. Roy had lost his reluctance to have sex, and in the process left her with both an unforgettable moment and blank spots in her memory. Dale still didn’t understand what had happened, other than at some point she’d lost the ability to think coherently.
She placed her hands flat on the bench and started to push herself up. That’s when she heard the voice, Roy’s voice, whispering in her ear. Do you have permission? She stopped immediately; the voice had been so clear he had to be close by. Except it was entirely in her head.
The Officer will be back to check on me. I have to be at my best or he might not approve of my behavior. Dale raised up and smoothed out where the dress was bunched together underneath her, pulling it down to get rid of the wrinkles. Carefully she folded her hands in her lap and straightened up. Everything had to be just right in order to pass his inspection.
And where had that idea of perfection come from? Dale shook her head at her own pretense of ignorance. It comes from me, that’s where it originates. And Roy, of course, she amended her internal explanation.
Dale was still in a daze. Her efforts to encourage him did succeed, but not quite in the way she expected. How could she have foreseen Roy would show up in that official looking uniform? Or that her brain would essentially shut down, captivated by his overwhelming projection of confidence, power and control. The way he had simply taken her, without any warning, still left her bewildered, uncertain about her own feelings.
Stripped bare, hands bound behind her back, even the illusory protection of the chastity belt gone, she had been defenseless against his superior physical strength. Yet none of that had really mattered. Whatever he had whispered in her ear had gone into her subconscious, forever altering the dimensions of their relationship. How else could she explain her own feelings, that he deserved to take from her whatever he wanted, when he wanted?
Dale looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. Here I am, still in the cell, waiting for him to appear and pass judgment on me. As it should be, she had to admit. She was exclusively his. Although she had no interest in any other man Roy had every right to ensure what belonged to him was securely protected. From now on the chastity belt key must remain with him; the belt was the same but completely different. Instead of keeping others out, its sole purpose now was to keep her in.
Roy came back, carrying a tray. The moment she saw his uniform again, and he still had the sunglasses on, Dale could feel her composure slipping away. Obeying him wasn’t even a conscious choice. There was so much she needed to say, but without his consent Dale could only sit on the bench, quietly waiting for him to determine what would happen next.
Roy lowered the tray onto the table on the other side of the bars. “I thought you might like a snack. I suppose I should go change. I found this costume on a party website. Your inmate uniform was the perfect choice. I figured if I’m going to lock you up in jail I should look the part too. What do you think?”
He stood in front of her, hands on his hips, in a wide stance. To Dale it felt as if he were ten feet tall, towering over her. Intentional or not, it was intimidating, yet it wasn’t fear that took root. Instead, it served to feed her own need to submit to an all-powerful figure, a man wielding immense power over her. Dale had to grip her hands tightly to hide the shaking.
“Sir, if I may be permitted to ask, would it be too much trouble to keep the uniform for a little while longer?” She desperately wanted to hold onto her fantasy for as long as possible.
At that moment Dale had to accept from this point on there was, in a very literal sense, nothing she would not do for Roy. He had only to ask, or better yet simply tell her. He had unlocked her secret passion, forcing her to confront a truth that had always been within her but never brought to the surface before now. The man standing in front of her had reached deep into her mind, her soul, and taken hold of her in a way she could not resist.
Confession Time
Roy didn’t miss the attempt to conceal the trembling in her hands. The woman before him had changed in some profound way he still didn’t quite understand. He grabbed the nearest chair and pulled it close to the bars. Off came the sunglasses but he chose to stay with the rest of the uniform.
“Look at me,” he ordered in that quiet but firm tone. Once more their eyes met, his narrow, intense; hers wide open. “I need to know what has happened. You will tell me everything. Do not hold back. Every detail, no matter how small, is important to help me. Begin.”
At first Dale hesitated, telling him only about her fantasy of being in a cell with the guard at the bars, watching her. Roy said nothing, though from his focused expression he was listening to every word. Once she started it was like opening the floodgates in a dam. Her words gushed out in a torrent. It started with the first time he locked her in that cell, and how it triggered her desire for more. Then the shock of seeing him, when Roy had brought her innermost secret to life. Dale couldn’t hold back her emotions. Her confession went on nonstop for over ten minutes, concluding with the admission she was completely within his control, unable to deny his slightest wish.
Her tale left Roy with a moral dilemma. He’d taken advantage of her weakness for a controlling figure to have sex. Not only that, he’d reinforced his domination at a point when she was at her most vulnerable. To be fair, sitting on that bench she didn’t seem the least bit traumatized or even upset at the outcome.
After she finished, she seemed to be waiting for something. Think, Roy, put yourself in her place, as much as you can. He folded his arms and leaned back in the chair, as if he was going over her revelations instead of stalling for time. Then it came to him. He knew exactly what she needed.
“You did well, Dale. I appreciate how difficult this must be for you to reveal. I would not ask except I can’t meet my responsibilities to you without the knowledge of what goes on in your head. Think of this, we aren’t equal so much as being two halves of a whole. In some ways I must trust in you, in others you must rely on my insight. Your hard work, and now your confession, has brought us together; now it is my turn to ensure we are never parted.”
Roy stood up and replaced the chair under the table. Once more he took his commanding stance, feet apart, hands on hips. “This is how it will be. You will remain in this cell until such time as I determine you shall be released. Once the lights dim you may lie down on the bunk, but you may not cover your head. From time to time, I will come by on my patrol, to check on you. You may remain in your bunk as long as the lights are turned down. Sleep soundly knowing I am here, keeping you safe from harm.”
From the way her face lit up Roy knew at once he’d got it right. The moral debate vanished; this was her heart’s desire, and he had the means to fulfill it. From now on he would use every means at his disposal to reinforce his influence over Dale, and with a clear conscience.
Epilogue
Sometime in the night Dale woke up. She opened her eyes to look around her tiny cell. The lights were still dimmed, so most of the room and the corridor were in shadows. But there was no mistaking the outline of the man standing there beyond the bars, checking on her.
She closed her eyes and drifted back into a peaceful sleep. This is where I belong, with someone to watch over me, was her last thought before the night reclaimed her.