The motel room tank of cigarettes and booze. A mattress leaned against the wall and Samson sat naked on the box springs amid a mess of broken black leather thongs. Delilah wore full dominatrix regalia and sat in a chair sipping a highball.
"You make my job hard," she said. It had been her third attempt to subdue the brute in bondage. A grin cracked Samson's face. "Yeah, baby, but you make something hard for me, too. Besides, you just had me tied with them flimsy straps. Now if you was to tie me down with them chains, I'd be at your mercy, baby."
Delilah sighed and walked over to the pile of chains Samson had provided that lay by the window. She peeked out the curtains, squinting into the smoking beam of sunlight.
"You expecting someone, sugar? Let's get down to business," Samson said.
Delilah reached deep within herself to find her dom-lady steel. How much longer before the SWAT team arrived and this charade ended? "Okay, you bad little boy."
After she secured him to the springs with chains and padlocks she lit a gold-filtered lavender-papered cigarette and sat next to him. She ran a red-lacquered fingernail across is ribs and said, "Alright you trailer trash piece of shit, are you ever going disobey me again?"
Samson shook his head vigorously.
She took a drag from her cigarette then held its lit end close to on of Samson's nipples. "Really, slave, do you promise?"
"Yes," Samson whispered.
Delilah brought the ember closer. "Louder."
"All that pretty hair of yours'" Delilah crooned. "It's like you want to be a girl. Do you want to be a girl?"
"Ah, don't lie to me,slave. You want to be a girl."
Delilah's face flashed with pure hate. She slapped him across the jaw. "You want to be a girl! You little bitch!"
"Hmm? What was that? Did my little girl say something?" She slapped him again.
"Better." Delilah walked over to the door to allow herself a moment of weakness. Being a dominatrix was hard work, but this Samson job wore badly on her, made her not only tired but afraid of him and the forces who knew must have, please, surrounded the motel and readied themselves for the takedown. She went to the window again and peaked out the curtains. Twice. This was the second time she had flashed the signal to let the commandos know that Samson had been rendered immobile. But how immobile? His strength wasn't just legendary.
"I'm a girl! I'm a girl!" Samson chanted on the springs.
With her back turned to him, Delilah cringed in anticipation of what would happen next.
The motel room door instantly crashed open and three commandos rushed in. Delilah ran to the corner of the room.
The three gunmen stood in full body armor, their laser-sighted weapons painting red dots on Samson's chest. He looked up at them, his eyes full of sadness.
"Looks like you boys finally got me," he said. "Well, here I am, and I guess ain't nothing I can do all chained up here buck naked." The shoulders of the soldiers relaxed a little. One commando began to sidestep around the bed.
The chains binding Samson did not break. They exploded from his body. The commandos flinched at the chromium-plated shrapnel. Delilah shrieked. A fist smashed the helmeted head of one intruder. A foot crumpled the body of another man who crashed into the last standing commando in the room. Samson picked up a dropped automatic weapon.
"Philistines," he said in quiet contempt. "They ain't never got their game together." He aimed the weapon at a commando who scuttled backward toward the door. Delilah buried her face in the crook of her arm. Then shots rang out in short barks turning to echoes as he took the fight outside against the remainder of the team that had come to abduct him.