Her Old-Fashioned Boss

by Laylah Roberts

  “Sorry, Sir,” she whispered. “I was thinking that if I spent the whole day naked then you’d be able to see all my, umm, imperfections.”

  Both men stared at her in amazement.

  “Haven’t we seen you naked plenty of times?” Sam asked.

  “Yes, but that’s different, that’s during sex or play.” And her body usually overtook her mind, pushing away her fears.

  “Just what imperfections do you think you have?” Roarke asked.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw him circle her.

  “Bend over and grab your ankles,” he told her.

  With a blush heating her cheeks, she did as ordered.

  “Tell me about these imperfections you see.”

  Damn. She wished she’d kept her trap shut.

  “I don’t know. I guess if you can’t see them then I shouldn’t point them out. Ow,” she cried out, forcing herself to stay still as the wooden spoon landed three times on her ass.

  “Try again,” he said. “Go to the weights bench and lean your hands on it, legs parted.” He waited until she’d moved to continue. “How would you feel if you stepped on the scale and you'd put on weight?”

  “Like I'd failed,” she answered.

  Smack! Smack!

  She shuddered.

  “You'd be beautiful no matter how much you weighed,” Sam told her.

  “How does it make you feel, to have to eat something prepared by someone else?”

  “Out of control, panicky, scared.”

  Smack! Smack! Smack!

  Pain seared her bottom, making her gasp. But she felt herself loosening, the tension in her body retreating.

  “What do you think of your body?” Roarke asked.

  “It's average,” she replied, her eyes drifting closed. “I know I'm not fat. But if I'm not careful I could be.”

  Smack! Smack!

  “Why do you chew and spit?”

  “Because I can't stop myself from gorging, and if I don't swallow then I won't get fat.” She swam in a current of pleasure and pain.

  Smack! Smack!

  “And how do you feel after?” Roarke asked.

  “Terrible, out of control, a failure.”

  Smack! Smack! Smack!

  He continued until tears dripped down her face, until her mind was drifting, her body slumped and relaxed. She flew, completely free of stress and tension.

  Hands held her close, lips kissed her forehead and she opened her eyes to find herself in Roarke's lap.

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered.

  “You’re beautiful, baby. And we will work on that until you believe it.”

  She cuddled into his chest.

  “You’re mine. Mine and Sam’s. And it is our job to take care of you. All of you. Your health. Your happiness. Your safety. I am not going to allow you to abuse yourself. This body is mine and it deserves to be pampered, cherished, loved. And that is exactly what I intend to do.”

  Instead of his words making her angry, as she’d kind of expected, she felt loved. Safe. In a way she never had before.

  “Why do I like this?” she asked. “Why do I like giving myself to you like this? If anyone had said that to me a few months ago, I’d have punched them and called them a Neanderthal jerk, but with you it makes me feel all warm and good inside.”

  She simply couldn’t work it out. Wasn’t it wrong to let someone else have such control? Was it a cop-out because she couldn’t control herself?

  “Hey, come back to me now. I don’t like the look on your face right now. What was that thought?”

  She stayed stubbornly quiet until he twisted a nipple. Sharp.

  “Ow!”

  “Talk to me.”

  Sam placed his head on her stomach as he kneeled beside them. “Talk to us.”

  “I just wondered if I’m taking the easy road. Giving you such control over me because I can’t handle my problems?”

  Roarke rubbed her shoulder. “Honey, let me tell you right now that no one would ever accuse you of taking the easy road. Gifting me your submission does not make you weak.”

  “But why do I want to give up my control to you? I’ve always been a tiny bit of a control freak. It seems to go against my nature.”

  “Sweetheart, you’re a submissive. But that doesn’t make you weak. And it doesn’t mean you’d submit to just anyone. You need someone you care about, are interested in, who you see as strong enough to give yourself over to. A sub gives herself over to her Dom because it’s freeing, because she or he can let go of all their worries and stresses. They don’t have to worry about what to do or when to do it because their Dom will tell them. All they have to do is be obedient to their Dom.”

  Well, she’d certainly experienced that. She’d never felt more at ease or more safe than when Roarke took the reins.

  “Thank you, Sir, for taking the time to punish me.”

  Roarke looked over at Sam. Ava was coming to terms with her submissive far quicker than he’d thought. He supposed it shouldn’t though, she was a natural submissive. He shuddered to think of how she’d probably been taken advantage of in the past. Like Sam, her need to make others happy could have led her into some bad situations, let people walk all over her.

  She needed someone to look after her, protect her and ensure she didn’t come to harm, from herself or others. Roarke was thankful for her friends she had, it was obvious that the four of them had taken care of each other.

  Roarke held her tight. “I’m very proud of you, little one. You’re asking for what you need and that makes me very happy.”

  Ava relaxed further as he continued to rub her bottom. Damn, that was one sexy butt, her cheeks high and gently rounded. And once they got some more weight on her, well, it would end up one killer ass.

  “I love you, Ava. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”

  “I love you, too. Both of you.”

  Chapter Eight

  “That's enough running, little one. Slow down now.”

  Ava looked over to see Roarke standing beside her, his bare torso glistening with sweat. Sam continued to pump weights, his arms working hard.

  “I'm okay,” she said. “I can keep going.”

  “Cool down now, Ava,” Roarke said in his Dom voice. “You have five minutes to get off and start stretching.”

  Damn, bossy male.

  But she did as she was told. Her butt still smarted from the spanking he’d given her yesterday in this very room.

  Roarke came over and helped with her stretches. Sam soon joined them, surrounding her with gorgeous, male bodies, twisting and turning.

  “Ava, Ava.” She turned her gaze from Sam’s six-pack, up to his grinning face before turning to Roarke who was waiting patiently for her to focus.

  “Yes?”

  “Keep moving. You need to be stretching, not ogling Sam.” His eyes were filled with tenderness as he gazed down at her and she smiled up at him.

  “But it’s so hard. He’s so beautiful.”

  “Beautiful,” Sam with mock-outrage. “I’m not beautiful. I’m rugged. Handsome. Manly.”

  She stared at him a long moment. “Nope,” she said with a grin. “I’m still sticking with beautiful. Women would kill for eyelashes like you have and they’d spend a fortune on hairdressers to get that shade of white-blond hair.”

  Sam puffed his chest out. “Are you impugning my manliness, woman? I demand restitution!” He jumped on her, careful not to give her too much of his weight as he started tickling her.

  “No, no, Sam,” she screamed, rolling around, trying to escape as she laughed uproariously. “Roarke, save me!”

  “You brought it on yourself, little one,” Roarke said with an evil smile before he turned away. “I’ll meet you two upstairs. I’ll be in the shower.”

  Sam and Ava stopped and looked at each other. “Shower sex,” the yelled together, racing out the door after Roarke.

  *****

  Roarke opened the door to the d
octor’s surgery then gestured for Ava to walk through. She loved the way he opened doors for her and always insisted on carrying any bags. He’d given her ‘the stare’ just that morning when he’d caught her trying to fix a leaky tap. Ava had learned to do everything for herself, but she had to admit that it was nice to have someone else to lean on.

  “You guys don’t have to go in with me you know,” Ava said nervously as they sat in the doctor’s waiting room. Sam had already spoken to the receptionist

  “Yes, we do,” Roarke countered.

  “But I’m sure you’ve got things to do, you can just send Max to pick me up.” Roarke had driven them all this morning.

  “Ava. We are coming in with you. Calm down, please.”

  She heard the soft warning in his voice. She’d already been threatened with a spanking twice today. With a soft huff, she sat back and folded her arms. Nerves were making her short-tempered and argumentative. And this was only a visit to a general practitioner, what would happen when it was time to visit a therapist?

  “Ava Scott?”

  She glanced up at the deep voice, swallowing heavily as a large, handsome man smiled over at them, his grin growing when he saw Roarke and Sam.

  “Roarke! What are you doing here? I don’t have an appointment with you, do I?” he asked, coming over to shake Roarke’s hand. Roarke stood and shook it with a grin.

  “Good to see you, Ian. No, the appointment’s not for me. It’s for my sub, Ava.”

  Ian quickly hid his surprise, turning to her with a gentle smile. “Hello, Ava. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “You too, Sir,” she replied, leaning against Roarke slightly.

  There was something a bit intimidating about the big doctor, although his eyes seemed kind. They were large and brown, surrounded by the most amazingly long lashes. His chestnut-colored hair was neatly trimmed. He actually topped Roarke by a few inches and his body was pure muscle.

  “And you, Sam? How are you?” He turned that intense gaze onto Sam.

  “Fine thanks, Sir. And you?”

  “Good. Busy, I don’t get to the club as much as I wish I could. Perhaps I’ll have to make more of an effort. Then I might have snagged Ava here before you did,” he continued, after gesturing them to follow him to his office.

  Ava held Sam’s hand tight as she followed Roarke.

  Roarke snorted. “Not a chance, buddy. And we didn’t meet Ava at the club. She’s my personal assistant.”

  Ian looked really surprised as he moved behind his desk. Roarke held a chair for Ava, and all three men waited until she sat before they did.

  “That so? Stretching that ‘no fraternizing with the employee’s rule’, are you?”

  “Only for one,” Roarke said warmly, smiling over at Ava.

  “So, what can I do for you all?” Ian asked.

  “Ava has an eating disorder,” Roarke told him.

  *****

  Sam held the back door of the car open for Ava, but instead of hopping into the front, he climbed in beside her.

  “Seatbelt's on,” Roarke ordered as he hopped in the front. Both of them wrinkled their noses at him, as if they hadn’t been in the process of doing just that. Instead of sitting over to one side, Sam sat in the middle. He drew Ava’s belt across then did the same for himself before pulling her into his arms.

  “Okay, baby?” he asked, holding her tight.

  “Yeah,” she said, but she trembled against him.

  “I know how hard that was, but it was for the best.”

  As soon as Roarke had blurted out about Ava’s eating disorder, she’d gone stiff and white. Sam had actually come close to hitting him, even though he knew that getting everything out there was probably the best thing. She’d worked herself up into a state worrying about seeing the doctor.

  Ian had treated her like the pro he was, with plenty of compassion and more than a small bit of firmness when she’d hesitated over her answers. He’d given her a thorough check-up and had called the hospital for her blood results.

  She was anemic and underweight. He’d recommended vitamins, a nutritionist and a therapist. They also had a prescription for some iron tablets. Sam would be taking a trip to the market to get some red meat as soon as they got home.

  “Yeah, just pretty tired.”

  “No wonder, you worked yourself up pretty good. It wasn’t that bad, was it?” he asked gently.

  “No,” she sighed. “Ian’s good. Bossy, but good.”

  “He’s a Dom, baby. Being bossy is a given.”

  “I don’t know how I’m going to find time to see the therapist, I wonder if the therapist works after hours.” Ian had given them the name of an excellent therapist specializing in eating disorders.

  “You’ll be going to the first appointment we can get,” Roarke said as he pulled into their place. He pulled into the garage off to the side. They had a private staircase from the garage that went straight up to the third floor.

  “But I’ve got work to do,” she protested as Sam climbed out then held out his hand, helping her out. He loved doing things like this for her, such little things but they fulfilled him, they made him feel needed.

  “Work can wait. Nothing is as important as your health. You’ll go as often as you need to, understand?” Roarke said firmly.

  “Roarke, anyone ever tell you that you’re extremely bossy?” she snapped. A kitten scratching at a tiger.

  Roarke grinned. “Only for the first year I was with Sam.”

  Sam rolled his eyes and winked at her. “For all the good it did me, I think he’s grown bossier over the years.”

  “I’ve got to work tonight,” Roarke said as they walked into their apartment. “And I’ve got some things to do first. Why don’t you two get some DVDs?”

  “Or we could come to the club with you?” she said hopefully. Sam knew she was dying to get into the club. He’d caught her trying to spy on people entering the other night. But you couldn’t see much from the third floor because of the large porch roof. He also knew that Roarke didn’t think she was ready for the club yet. Sam kind of agreed. Besides, Roarke wouldn’t be able to concentrate if they were there with him.

  “I don’t think so, honey. Stay in with Sam. He’ll take care of you.”

  Sam wiggled his eyebrows at her. “I certainly will.”

  She grinned. “You’re incorrigible.”

  *****

  A box of chocolates had become the bane of her existence. She glared over at them, pacing up and down the bedroom. She needed to hide them. Kind of hard to hide them from yourself though. She could get Sam to hide them. But then she'd have to explain what the problem was.

  That she couldn't control herself from gorging on a box of chocolates.

  Her stomach grumbled. She was hungry, which was part of the problem. But not for an apple or banana, no she wanted creamy chocolate with a sweet center.

  Her mouth salivated as she rubbed her hands down her pants.

  Throw them out.

  But Tilly had given them to her. A shy, sweet submissive in training, she'd been thanking Ava for helping her a few days ago when she'd been upset over an incident in the club. One of the other subs in training, Rory, was a bully and a bitch. She constantly picked on Tilly to the point that the other girl had run off. The subs trainer, Alex, had taken Tilly to task, giving her a warning. Another warning and she'd be kicked out, a truly devastating prospect for her.

  Ava had calmed her down, given her a shoulder to cry on and today Tilly had turned up with a bunch of flowers and a large box of chocolates.

  No, she couldn't just throw the chocolates out.

  Go to Roarke. Find Sam. Tell them.

  She had to be stronger than this. Turning, she looked at herself in the mirror. She was gaining weight. Her cheeks were fuller, her stomach curvier. Her men were constantly upsizing her meals.

  Biting her lip, she sat on the floor, shudders working their way through her.

  Fat. She would get fat. Panic raced throu
gh her. She couldn't get fat.

  “Dammit, stop it!” she told herself fiercely.

  “Stop what, sweet?” Sam asked from the doorway. He peered down at her and she could see the worry in his eyes. “What's wrong? You're pale. You've been crying.”

  “I'm weak and I'm a freak,” she told him, more tears dripping down her cheeks.

  His gaze narrowed. “You most certainly are not.”

  He sat beside her on the floor and held her tight on his lap. “What are you talking about?”

  “I can't control myself. I need to, I want to...” she broke off with a sob, burying her face in his neck.

  Sam rubbed his hand up and down her back. “Did you chew and spit something?” he asked her.

  She shook her head. “No, but I want to, so bad. It's the chocolates fault.”

  “The chocolate?”

  “On the bed. Tilly gave them to me. I can't help myself. I’m trying so hard, but I’m scared I’m going to fail. I’m so weak.” Nausea bubbled in her stomach and she rubbed it, trying to soothe herself.

  “Have you had any?” he asked.

  “No, I'm afraid to. I'm scared that once I start, I won't be able to stop.” She pressed her lips together to hold back the sobs.

  “Okay, that's a good girl.” Sam kissed her forehead and grabbing her hand, squeezed it. “Why didn't you come for me or Roarke, though? It's clear how distressed you are.”

  “I can't keep running to you guys. I need to learn to work through this myself.” She’d had a couple of bad episodes. Each time, Roarke or Sam had listened to her, talked to her. Sometimes they ended up just cuddling her, sometimes she’d just kneel at Roarke’s feet while he worked or lie with Sam on the couch. Other times they’d end up making her scream with orgasm after orgasm. And it had helped, a lot. But she was scared to rely on them too much. What if they got sick of her?

  Sam leaned back and tilted her face up. “No, baby, I think that's the exact opposite of what you need to do. You've been relying on yourself for too long. You need to learn to lean on someone else. Lean on me, on Roarke. We'll take care of you.”