Leashed (Masters of Desires Book 2)

by Paula Dickson

  “I assure you, Mr. Anderson, this will not happen again,” Abigail interrupted the man before he had a chance to expel her daughter. “Please, give her one last chance.”

  “This was her third chance, Mrs. Bennett. I am sorry. There is nothing else I can do. Your daughter knew of the consequences, and she chose to ignore them, again.”

  Abigail looked at Preston who seemed uninterested and unbothered by the whole conversation. His eyes glazed over his phone screen as his thumb swiped up and down, deleting unread emails.

  Was he really just going to sit there?

  Was he really not going to beg Principal Anderson for another chance?

  She couldn’t believe his crude behavior.

  Actually, that was a lie.

  She could believe his behavior she just thought maybe, for once, he’d try to do something.

  Every time Leda got expelled, without fail, Preston shook it off like it wasn’t a fucking big deal. Leda had him wrapped around her small six-year-old pinky and he hadn’t a clue. Although it humored Abigail how a forty-two-inch little girl skillfully dominated a six-foot-four sadist.

  Preston gazed at his watch. “Are we done here?”

  “Yes,” Principal Anderson answered. He stood and stuck out his hand to Preston, but he ignored him blatantly. Great, now he’d tell all the other principals in the city not to let Leda into their schools. Abigail wanted to get out of the small office to shout her husband’s brain off.

  “Great. Let’s go.”

  Preston adjusted his jacket and helped his wife get up from the chair. She pushed his hand away. She could stand on her own two feet. What she needed help with was getting their daughter another chance at this school.

  Unlike Preston, she shook Mr. Anderson’s hand and thanked him for his time and for the many chances he’d given their daughter. Yes, she was kissing his ass, but she didn’t care. Principals talked. The least Mr. Anderson could say was Leda had a nice mother with etiquette.

  Abigail breezed right by Preston and didn’t look back. She passed by the office’s reception area and said her goodbyes to the secretary, again, kissing some ass.

  When she stepped into the hallway, there was no other ass to kiss but a very perky ass to beat. Annoyed and angered, she turned to Preston, needing to release the words burning her chest.

  “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Angel, relax. She’s just being a kid.”

  She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “That’s your answer to everything she does. Preston this is the third school she’s gotten kicked out of. This isn’t funny anymore. We are literally running out of schools to send her to.”

  “Then I’ll build her a school,” he said so nonchalantly.

  “Oh, my God. This is where she gets it from.”

  He laughed and went to her side, bringing her into a hug. She tried to fight it off, but he was stronger than her, and she loved when he held her like this. She breathed in his unique scent.

  “You need to calm down. It’s not good for you. Don’t worry about Leda, okay? I’ll talk to her.”

  She relaxed into his arms and kissed his neck. His entire body turned to goosebumps.

  “Please.”

  “Where is she?” he asked.

  “Down the hall waiting for us.”

  He sighed. “Let’s go get our little devil.”

  Abigail took his hand as they walked down the hall to where their daughter waited for them. She sat in the middle of three chairs with her head down. She looked so innocent and so well behaved like a good little girl. Then she opened her mouth and ruined it all with grotesque language.

  “We need to be stern with her,” Abigail said as they approached her. “She is going to use those puppy eyes and you mustn’t fall for them.”

  “Angel, I got this.” His smirk was so cocky she knew he’d fail within seconds of Leda opening her mouth.

  Abigail began the countdown.

  “Am I in trouble?” Leda asked, not meeting either one of her parents’ eyes. Her black Mary Jane flats touched at the toes and her black hair was braided into pigtails.

  “No, princess,” Preston said.

  It had taken him, what, five seconds?

  “Yes, yes you are in a lot of trouble, Leda,” Abigail stepped in.

  Leda’s brown eyes turned big with excitement at hearing her dad’s voice but saddened instantly when her mother said she was in trouble. Leda knew her mom called all the shots.

  “It looks like we have a tie, maybe we should ask Little Sister what she thinks.” She rubbed her mother’s swollen stomach and asked, “Do you think I should be grounded?”

  She rested her small ear against Abigail’s stomach and waited for a response. She was a sweet talker alright. But Abigail knew her like she knew herself and she wasn’t going to fall for her tricks. Despite herself, Abigail smiled at Leda.

  “She says she agrees with Daddy, Mommy. She says I should not be grounded.”

  Abigail sighed and sat next to her while Preston sat at her left side. Leda sat in the middle of both of her parents. This wasn’t good. Abigail placed a hand on Leda’s knee and gave it a squeeze.

  “Honey, what’s going on? You haven’t even spent a week in this school and you’re already getting in trouble. We are running out of schools to get you in.”

  Leda played with her fingers and turned to her father, giving him those puppy eyes. “Daddy will build me my own school, right, Daddy?”

  “Of course—”

  Abigail cleared her throat and glared at her husband. Really?

  “Of course not, Leda. This is unacceptable behavior. You do not go around telling people that you are going to whip them on their butt.”

  Her brows knitted together. “But you tell Mommy that all the time.”

  Touché, Leda. Touché.

  “Well,” Preston began. Getting stuck in the middle of his explanation, he looked at Abigail for advice, but she stayed as quiet as he had during their countless conferences with teachers and principals. Karma was a bitch. “Well, Mommies and Daddies can say words that sons and daughters cannot say because we are much taller.”

  “How tall do I have to be to say them?”

  “As tall as Daddy.”

  Leda deflated in the chair. “Aw, man! That’s not fair. I’ll never be as tall as you.”

  Abigail rolled her eyes. “When you understand what you are saying, then you can use those words. Do you know what ‘kick you in the nuts’ means?”

  Leda shook her head.

  “Then you can’t say it again. What about ‘whip you in the butt?’”

  Leda shook her head again. “Then you can’t say that either, alright?”

  “Alright. I’m sorry, Mommy. And yes, I know what ‘I’m sorry’ means. I promise I won’t say those things anymore unless I have a dictionary in my hand.”

  “Leda, we’re serious about this. We’re going to get you into another school and if we get a call from your teacher or the principal again then you are going to be sent to Yiayia’s house. We expect better from you.”

  Her eyes widened at hearing her great-grandmother’s name. Yiayia was old school and believed in corporal punishment. Although neither Abigail nor Preston would ever send their daughter to Greece, they hoped the threat would suffice.

  “I know, Daddy. I’m really, really, really, sorry.” She got out of the chair and hugged her dad fiercely. “Please don’t send me to Yiayia’s. She scares me to my toes,” she whispered.

  “Sometimes it’s better to use your inside voice so that you don’t get yourself in trouble.” Abigail leaned closer to her daughter and whispered, “I use it all the time with Daddy.”

  “Or else he’ll whip you in the butt!” Leda giggled at her own words like they were the funniest thing in the universe. “Kidding!” she told her parents when neither laughed. “I was just joking, Daddy.”

  Yes, she definitely got her sense of humor from her mother.

  Preston picked Leda up and hois
ted her up onto his left hip. “Come on, we have to pick up Ajax from Granny Judy’s house.”

  Leda wrinkled her nose. “Do we have to?”

  “Yes, we have to.”

  Abigail heard Preston whisper into Leda’s ear, “Who’s going to pick up your toys if we don’t have him?”

  The car ride to Mrs. Trice’s home took them less than twenty minutes. Abigail was grateful to have both sets of grandparents close to their home. Strangers could expel Leda, but family was stuck with her whether they liked it or not.

  Leda ran up the stairs to the townhouse and knocked frantically until her grandmother opened the door. She ignored Mrs. Trice’s open arms and sprung right past her, going straight to the kitchen to get loukoumades.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Trice,” Abigail greeted, a little embarrassed by her daughter’s behavior.

  “Good morning, Abby. How are you feeling?”

  “Seven months pregnant.” She slipped off her shoes and removed her coat as she followed Leda’s steps to the kitchen.

  “Hi, Mom.” Preston kissed both of his mother’s cheeks. “Where’s Ajax?”

  “I just put him down to sleep.”

  Preston stole a loukoumade from Leda’s hand and popped it into his mouth. She gave him a death stare that made Preston crack like an egg. Abigail enjoyed watching their interactions. It was validating in a sense like she’d done something good in her life.

  She kissed Preston on the cheek and told him she was going to check up on Ajax. His brows furrowed with concern, but Abigail told him she was fine. Hormones and all.

  She made her way down the hallway to a room all the way at the end. She pushed open the door to find her son sleeping in a small full bed. His brown hair was a mess of waves, much like his father’s was when he woke up from a night’s sleep.

  Swiping a hand under her eyes, she walked to the bed. Jesus, pregnancy had made her an emotional wreck.

  She jumped into bed with Ajax and brought his three-year-old body to hers. He still smelled like a newborn baby. If she could bottle up his scent and hold it forever, she would. She hoped he wasn’t as mischievous as his sister. That girl had a personality like no one else’s.

  There was a low knock on the door followed by Preston poking his head.

  “Hey,” he whispered. “You’re tired?”

  She nodded, inviting him with a pat on the empty spot of the bed. He removed his shoes and jacket before jumping in. For a few minutes, he drew circles over her upper thigh and belly, enjoying the soft kicks of his daughter.

  “What are we going to do about Leda?”

  “She’ll be fine. She likes to act out, that’s all. If we don’t pay it any attention she’ll stop,” he said with a confidence she wished she had when it came to parenting.

  “Do you think we did a bad job with their names? We can still change them to Zeus and Athena.”

  “What? Of course not. Leda and Ajax are great names.”

  Abigail stared at him with raised brows. “Leda fucked a swan and bore his children while Ajax killed himself out of self-pity.”

  “Now we know where Leda gets her foul language from,” he murmured comically as she pushed his shoulder.

  “You need to focus on the bigger picture, Angel. Leda was the queen of Sparta. She was so beautiful and faithful to her husband that Zeus had to turn himself into an animal to catch her attention. Ajax was a loyal hero and warrior. Zeus was nothing but an egotistical God who hated mortals and cared only about himself, and Athena was a sour trickster.”

  “I’m just saying, maybe with this one we can go with something a little more common. Nicole, Sophia, perhaps?”

  “No. We already agreed on Hera.”

  “I just…”

  Her bottom lip began to tremble. This had nothing to do with their names and Preston knew as much.

  “Hey, hey.” He raised her chin to meet his eyes. “You are doing a great job. You are a terrific mother, Abigail. Stop doubting yourself.”

  She shook her head and sniffled her tears. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

  “No, I am saying that because it’s the truth, because it’s what I see with my eyes and my eyes don’t lie to me.”

  “You’re so much better at this whole thing than me. She loves you more, you know?”

  “No, she doesn’t. She loves us the same. Stop thinking that.”

  “Sometimes I wonder…Maybe when she was inside me she knew that I—”

  “She didn’t and she doesn’t, and she’ll never know, okay? You love her, Abigail and she loves you, too and so does Ajax and so do I and so does this little girl.” He rubbed her stomach with a smile that made everything better.

  She released a breath and rested her head on his chest. “Eight months ago, I was reading A Tale of Two Sisters to Leda, and she asked me if I could give her a sister. I said I’d give her anything she wanted.”

  “Is that why you wanted to have her so badly?” Abigail nodded. “What if she would’ve been a he?”

  She shrugged. “I would’ve kept trying.”

  Preston swiped a strand of hair behind her ear. “You need to stop blaming yourself. You did nothing wrong.”

  “I know, I know. Sometimes I just look at her and I think of what would have happened if I hadn’t had her. I can’t imagine my life without her. I want to give her everything, Prest. But please, if she asks for another sister because she doesn’t get along with this one, have my back when I say no.”

  He laughed so hard it brought tears to his eyes. Ajax stirred in bed and the parents stilled.

  “Mommy? Daddy?” Leda said from the threshold.

  “Shh, Ajax’s sleeping,” Preston warned as she tip-toed into the room. Her shoes and socks were already gone and so were her braids. Preston made room for her on the bed. “Jump in.”

  Instead of going to her dad’s side, Leda went to rest in her mother’s arms. She kissed her forehead with sticky lips.

  “Thank you for Little Sister, Mommy. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Leda, so much.” She hugged her daughter’s small body and watched as her eyes glazed into a deep sleep.

  Preston lowered the collar of Abigail’s dress to find her neck naked. She showed him her hand and he shook his head. A ring wasn’t enough. She knew she was in trouble.

  As quietly as the two could, they slipped off the mattress and said their goodbyes to Mrs. Trice as they shrugged on their coats and shoes.

  “Where are you going?” Mrs. Trice asked from the kitchen.

  “Work,” they both said.

  “Will you pick them up or do you want me to drop them off at your house?”

  “We'll pick them up.”

  “Uh-huh,” Mrs. Trice said with a certain look in her eyes.

  Preston and Abigail got into the SUV that now carried car seats, toys, coloring books, and baby wipes.

  Jesus, had they become those kinds of parents? Well, not quite.

  By their second pregnancy, they had gained the reigns of BDSMing while pregnant and considered themselves experts on the subject, so much so that they’d done a scene in Preston’s club.

  After Ajax, Preston and Abigail found out balancing their sexual lifestyle with two kids and now a third pregnancy was easier than either thought it would be. It was also fun and erotic, sneaky in a way, almost as if they were doing something naughty, illegal, or taboo, which only added to the fuel in the sex.

  After all, those kinds of parents didn’t fuck each other in a room of thirty people. Those kinds of parents didn’t draw blood, didn’t cane, gag, whip, or lit each other on fire.

  No, they hadn’t become one of those kinds of parents. They were a new generation of parents—a much kinkier version.

  A fancy escalator had them in their home in five minutes.

  Master Trice stood in front of whore. She loved when he straightened his spine and made himself bigger than her. She loved when he belittled her to the size of an ant.

  “Rem
ove your clothes and take a shower. When you finish, you will come back here and sit on the floor next to that chair. You have five minutes. Not a minute less and definitely not a minute more. Do not make me wait, whore.”

  “Yes, Master Trice.”

  She removed her clothes and walked to her room where she took a cold shower that made her skin chicken-like. She wiped herself dry with a small towel and walked naked to the dresser where her most valuable position rested.

  Opening the first drawer, she removed the red box.

  Abigail placed the box on top of the bed with an unsteady heartbeat. She uncapped the lid and gasped at the beauty of her collar. She’d seen it a thousand times, worn it a thousand times, yet it flummoxed her. It wasn’t as much the beauty of the collar as the significance it held that astounded her.

  Whenever she wore it around the house or out in the open world, she expressed her submissive nature. She entered a state she couldn’t enter without it. Her collar around her neck meant she was owned like property, like the chair Master Trice was currently sitting in.

  It also meant she was powerful. It meant she was loved, and she was trusted by her master. It meant both were committed and held a bond so strong no fire could ever scorch.

  At the touch of the leather, Abigail’s skin warmed with the promise of tearing. Her goosebumps disappeared. Her pussy became wanton with the need to have him inside her.

  Abigail clasped the collar around her neck and crawled to the living room where Master Trice awaited with a leash in his hand.

  The end.

  Acknowledgement

  I would like to acknowledge the following people for their continued love and support:

  To my partner in life, thank you for reading my stories.

  To EL James, thank you for introducing me to the BDSM world.

  To all of the authors that fill my kindle with an abundance of books. You have all developed within me a love for reading.

  To Kellie, thank you for making these awesome covers.

  To my readers, I have said it before and I will say it again, all of this could not be possible without you.