Bound to be Tamed: Emergence, Book 2

by Becca Jameson

  “You look great,” he declared, kissing her forehead as though there wasn’t a giant mammal in the room sucking all the air out. He straightened her skirt, black that time, and brushed a few strands of hair off her purple blouse.

  She was glad for the darker colors. She felt more protected than the pale, see-through pastels. In fact, he didn’t give her a scarf this time.

  “Ready?”

  She nodded, still a bit nervous about the leg issue. How long would she have to wait for him to address it?

  “Oh…” he snapped his fingers, “…forgot something.” He headed into the closet.

  Of course you did.

  When he returned, he had a narrow bag slung over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  What the fuck is that?

  Stephanie followed him dutifully out of the apartment and then the building. It was warm when they got outside. She walked briskly to keep up with him, barely taking her gaze off the black tote zipped from top to bottom.

  When they entered the restaurant, she realized for the first time it was early afternoon. Not many people were inside.

  Aiden took her hand and led her toward the back. “We’ve been gone so much, we need to be here a few extra hours today. I’ll show you how to get started on some things and then I need to meet with some newer employees.”

  “Okay, Sss…” She had to stop herself from adding “Sir”. The word had become so commonplace for her that she almost uttered it in public without thinking.

  Aiden laughed and kept walking until they were both in the back office.

  She looked around for Dane.

  “Dane’s meeting with a produce guy. He’ll be back in about an hour. We need to work on payroll. You want to take that project on?”

  “Sure. I mean, of course, Sir.” It seemed prudent, since no one else was around, to add that tiny word. She was clearly in the doghouse anyway. Maybe it would help.

  “You take the desk chair and I’ll pull this one around to get you started.” He set the long bag on the mahogany desktop and dragged the guest seat to the other side.

  Stephanie inhaled deeply and circled the desk, her gaze still on the tote. It was about two feet long and narrow.

  “Sit.” He pointed at the swivel chair. “Since you’re so curious about the duffle, I’ll go ahead and let you have it now.”

  She swallowed. No, thank you.

  Dramatically, Aiden unzipped the bag, slowly, drawing out the tension. He glanced at her and shook his head. “It was your choice.”

  Shit. She sat on the edge of the seat, her knees bobbing up and down. She put both hands on them to still her fidgetiness. Her thumbs brushed against one another and she moaned before she spread her knees. Why the hell did she struggle with this one simple command? Always had. It was one of the first things they’d insisted upon. Always keep your thighs spread open and ready for us.

  The moan turned into a squeak when Aiden lifted the pole from the bag. She froze, her face turning a deep shade of red she didn’t need to see to know was there.

  He swiveled the chair around so she faced him. “I’m guessing you love this spreader bar. It’s obvious to me.”

  “No, Sir,” she muttered. She did not.

  “Really?” He lifted an eyebrow and looked her in the eye as he knelt between her legs. He set the bar on end between her knees and lifted her palms from where she gripped her thighs to place them on the arms of the chair.

  He continued, “You might want to think about that a bit. You keep defying us on this issue. There must be some payoff to wearing the spreader. Nobody commits the same infraction over and over without getting a reward for the conduct.”

  He strapped first one thigh and then the other with the black Velcro width on each end of the bar. It wasn’t too bad this time.

  Until he adjusted the bar, forcing her legs farther apart until her knees were stretched past the sides of the seat.

  She gripped the armrests so tight her knuckles hurt. Reward? What reward could she be getting?

  “Before we get started, in fact, I want you to sit here for a while and think about this situation you’ve put yourself in. I’d love to know what the payoff is for wearing a spreader bar at work. I’m going up front to deal with a few issues while you think. When I get back, I expect an answer.”

  He spun the chair until she faced the desk and pushed her up to the edge. After he pried her fingers from the armrests, he set her hand on the mahogany. And then he stood and headed toward the door. “This isn’t a trick question. I have no idea what the answer is. But I’d really like to know so I can adjust accordingly.”

  He left.

  Fuck. Shit. And damn.

  She was glad the desk had a solid front on it. If anyone could see under the desk when the door opened, she’d be mortified.

  She sat up straight. Again, shit. Think. She tapped her feet on the wheels of the chair. Her feet wouldn’t completely reach the ground with her legs spread this wide. She tried not to think about her predicament, but her pussy moistened anyway, wetness forming that would eventually drip between her crack and get the leather wet.

  She stared at the door, willing it to open, willing it not to open. She didn’t have an answer. What was she supposed to tell him?

  This had to be a trick question. He was testing her. Right? A psychological game. She couldn’t win because there was no right answer.

  A clock hung on the wall to one side of the door. It ticked and she listened to the rhythmic noise alone in the silence.

  Finally, the door opened and Aiden slipped back in, shutting the door behind him.

  She sat up straighter and lifted her gaze.

  “Well?”

  “I don’t know, Sir.”

  “You don’t know why you won’t keep your legs apart? Or you don’t want to tell me?”

  Won’t, he’d said. Not can’t.

  “I can’t think of a reason. I guess I’m just forgetful?”

  “Are you asking me if you’re forgetful?”

  She swallowed. “No, Sir. I just am.”

  “Forgetful…” He mulled that word over for a moment, pacing on the other side of the desk. “I don’t think so. You remember plenty of things. I think there’s a deeper reason you’re choosing to disobey that particular command.” He stopped directly in front of her and leaned over the desk. “Deliberately.” He enunciated every syllable.

  She shook her head. Why would she do such a thing? It was embarrassing sitting there at the desk with her legs spread open. It wasn’t much better at home on the bed naked.

  “Maybe this will help you think.” He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. It clanked as he reached toward her, fist down, and then dropped the object on the desk.

  The Ben Wa balls.

  “Put them in. We haven’t had time to work with them lately. I’d prefer you work with them every day at least a half hour, but we’ve been too busy. Since you have nothing else to do and you’re stuck sitting there until you come up with an answer, put them in.”

  I have to sit here doing nothing until I can answer the question? Until…

  With a shaky hand, she reached for the balls. “I don’t have anything to hold them in with, Sir.” He probably has the dreaded thong thingy in his other pocket.

  “I never intended for you to. Hold them in with your muscles. Scoot your chair back a few inches so you can reach between your legs. Push them in. When they fall out, put them back in. Hold them longer each time.” He reached for a pad of paper and a pen and set them in front of her.

  Her eyes widened. What was she going to do with that? Take notes? While managing the balls?

  “Make a hash mark every time you push them back in. I’ll time you.” He reached for his elaborate watch and pushed a few buttons. He glanced up. “Go ahead. What are you waiting for? Put them in,” he commanded, nodding at her lap.

  He reached into his other pocket, and she nearly panicked. What next?

  Her phone.

/>   Relieved, she exhaled.

  “Text me when you have an answer.” He turned to the door.

  “Wait…Sir.” She paused. “How—?”

  “Figure it out. You can sit there all night if you need. Keep the Ben Wa balls inside you at all times. Do not touch yourself unnecessarily. You don’t have permission to come, of course.” He grinned at her over his shoulder. “Go. The clock is running.”

  She scrambled to put them in while he watched. Not that he could see that low from his angle, but he knew. Somehow he knew everything. He and Dane had like seven senses. Not just six.

  She pushed the balls inside her quickly.

  “Well, you didn’t lick them first, but in your flustered state, I’ll let it slide. Maybe.” And he left.

  Fuck.

  Already her mind was shot. She clenched the balls tight, but with her legs spread and nothing to assist her, it wasn’t going to last long.

  She squeezed, but it seemed counterproductive when they popped out, as though the harder she tried to hold them what she really accomplished was to push them out.

  They landed on the soft leather between her legs. “Shit,” she muttered. She picked them up with two fingers and daintily pushed them back in, trying not to touch herself more than necessary. If she could manage to press them as deep as possible with her middle finger then maybe if she sat really still…

  She held her breath as she pulled her finger back out. That was not going to work. Her palm smashed into her clit at that angle and made her nearly scream in shock.

  The little hood was retracted, probably because the damn nub was swollen. It was always swollen lately. If anyone would have asked her two weeks ago if the hood of a clitoris could draw back by itself, she’d have laughed…

  She closed her eyes and rested her elbows on the arms of the chair.

  Breathe slow and steady, Steph.

  Her fingers dripped with her own wetness. She held them awkwardly aloft, not wanting to wipe them on anything and knowing they were just going to get wetter. Her only option in between would be to suck them off or hold them in the air.

  The balls slipped out. She stuffed them back, this time with her pointer at an angle from the side to avoid her clit.

  Her legs stiffened. She moaned anyway at the contact. It was not much different than masturbating alone in her room. Except she wasn’t really alone. Nope. There was that camera in the corner and either man could be watching.

  There was also the uncertainty about when the door might open again.

  No. That wasn’t true either. She had to text Aiden to get him back.

  She held the balls, tightening her Kegel muscles hard.

  She glanced at the computer. She was supposed to do payroll. If she didn’t get this task over, she would be no assistance to the men. Never mind it was their fault.

  The balls slipped out. She tried to disconnect from her body while she reinserted them. Think of them as a tampon. You don’t get aroused when you put those in.

  Crap. The check marks. How many was that? Three? Four.

  With her free hand, the one not covered in her own juices, she reached for the pen. The four slashes she made were crooked and looked like five-year-old handwriting. She wasn’t left-handed. Her dominant hand was the Ben Wa ball assistant.

  She almost laughed at the picture she made reaching over to scrawl crooked marks on the notepad.

  Except her pussy clenched and made her remember she had a huge problem.

  What the hell was the question? Oh, right, why won’t I keep my legs apart? Not why can’t I, but why won’t I.

  She closed her eyes again. When I don’t keep my legs open, I’m usually forced to endure this bar. It’s hateful and humiliating. Why would I want to do this?

  She shifted on the seat, stuffed the balls back in and gave another slash to the paper.

  I don’t want to wear this spreader bar ever… Right?

  She thought about how she felt right that second. With her legs spread unnaturally wide, she concentrated on the feeling of helplessness, vulnerability, availability…

  She grabbed the damn balls again and pushed them in, holding them for a moment so she could concentrate. They were inside her. She hadn’t broken that rule. Although she knew she wasn’t supposed to be using her fingers to keep them there, she needed a second.

  Deep breaths. Her pussy throbbed, gripping the balls and begging for more.

  But the spreader bar. Get back to that, Steph.

  So hard to concentrate, stay on task. She was going to be here all night if she didn’t come up with a suitable answer.

  Think.

  She looked down at her thighs, spread so wide her pussy lips were separated. When they did this to her at home, they sometimes watched her, sometimes fucked next to her. Sometimes they left her like that…alone. She never knew. But she was usually naked…and then forced wide open.

  Hmmm. She let the balls fall out and then pushed them back in just to make another hash mark on the paper. If she had too few, no one would believe her. Sure, she was not playing quite fair, but halfway…

  God. Maybe I do like this fucking bar. Or at least what it represents…

  Ideas swirled around in her head. Before they were lost, she reached for the phone with her free hand and typed in a text.

  I’m ready.

  She closed her eyes to hold her thoughts. Maybe they wouldn’t leak out with her eyes closed.

  When the door opened, she whipped her head up to find both Aiden and Dane standing there. They shut the rest of the world off with a snick.

  The Ben Wa balls fell out.

  “I heard you’ve been having some difficulty,” Dane said. He circled the desk, picked up the balls from between her legs and sucked them into his mouth. “Mmm. You’re delicious.” He stuffed them in his pocket.

  Thank the Lord.

  “So do you have an answer for us?” Aiden sat on the edge of the desk as he spoke. He grabbed her dangling hand and sucked her three middle fingers into his mouth to lick them. “She is, isn’t she?” He glanced at Dane.

  Dane stroked a finger through her pussy without warning. “And wet.” He grinned. “So what did you come up with? Why do you insist on letting your legs touch?”

  She licked her lips. Every damn thing they did was sexy and they scrambled her brain just by being in the room. “I…um… Well, I guess—”

  Aiden interrupted. “Don’t guess. Tell us why. Do you need more time?”

  “No,” she squeaked out. She lowered her gaze and stared at her thighs, wide and open and shaking with need. “I like how the bar makes me feel,” she muttered.

  “And how is that?” Dane asked, stroking through her slit again and withdrawing just as quickly.

  “Open.”

  “That’s it? Open?” Dane lifted her chin to his gaze. “That’s more of an observation.”

  Words tumbled out of her mouth. “I like how you both look when I’m vulnerable to you. I like how it makes you feel. I like how your eyes glaze over in lust. I do that to you when you restrain me or punish me.” She glanced at both men and then continued. Might as well get it all out there. “When you look at me like that, I know I’ve pleased you. When I mess up, it pleases you for me to accept my punishment.”

  “What look is that, baby?” Dane asked, his fingers tickling a line up her arm until she had goose bumps.

  “Adoration,” she whispered. “Like you both truly adore me.” Her voice faded to almost nothing.

  Aiden smoothed his fingers down her cheek and took her chin in his hand. “We punish you because we want you to obey. We won’t lighten up. It will get harder. We will insist you go beyond your comfort zone every day. Always a step farther than before.

  “We want you to obey because you’re so fucking sexy when you give up control. It drives your arousal to a stunning height. It humbles us.”

  Dane added, “We won’t make this easy. We want your legs spread. Why? Because we said so. We like the idea of yo
u wanting to keep yourself open for us. But, more than that, we like knowing you desire to please us. So much that you will do things you never dreamed.”

  “Like the photo shoot,” she said.

  “Yes. Like the photo shoot.” Aiden gripped her chin harder to get her to look at him.

  His eyes were deep green pools of lust.

  “I love the way you look at me with that glazed expression when I make you horny just by being, Sirs. When you control me, it drives your lust higher. When I spread my legs for you, it pleases you, but when I let you restrain me in an open position, it makes you shake with need.

  “That empowers me. I do that to you.” Her voice rose. She warmed. “I want to see that look. And…and…I guess I also hope if my pussy is wide open and you’re both so hot for me you can’t stand it, maybe, just maybe, you’ll fuck me.”

  “That’s what this is about? You want us to make love to you more often?” Dane asked.

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  Dane leaned in closer and kissed her lightly. “I’m so glad you want us inside you. I like that you crave our cocks.”

  “If you want to spend most of your time wearing that bar between your legs, we won’t argue. It’s fucking hot. No wonder my eyes glaze,” Aiden teased. He stood and walked around the desk. “Get out of here, Dane. You have stuff to chop and I have to teach this cute little misguided sub a few things.”

  “I feel dismissed.” Dane put his hand over his heart in mock pain. “How about I watch her pussy while you teach her stuff, ya know, just in case…”

  Aiden pushed him toward the door. “Go. If you stay in here, I’m liable to fuck you across the desk and let Stephanie watch. That’ll do wonders for her libido.”

  Stephanie jerked at the suggestion. She loved watching these two love each other. The devotion on their faces was unmatched. But the show held mixed blessings. They were hers, dammit. Her Doms. And she wanted their hands on her worse than ever when they fucked in front of her. She felt left out. It brought out her insecurity at the same time it made her horny.