Bound (Seven Year Itch)

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Bound (Seven Year Itch) Page 5

by Jennifer Foor


  “Like I said before, I’ll teach you to be patient. There’s no need to rush.”

  “Are we done this conversation yet? I’d like to get back to …”

  “To what?” He questions. “Is there something more important than total ecstasy, because that’s what you’ll experience when you give yourself to me completely.”

  I roll my eyes, even though I know he can’t see me. He’s so damn annoying. It drives me nuts. “Whatever. I’m hanging up now.”

  “When you touch yourself tonight make sure you think about me watching you.”

  “I’d rather not,” I lie. I’d never admit he’s the only thing that helps get me off. Just imagining it sends vibrations between my legs.

  “Goodnight, Macy.” He hangs up without another smart comment or assumption.

  Then my phone vibrates with a text and as I go to open it I realize just what I’m looking at. It’s a link to a video. I’m reluctant, but click on it anyway.

  Then I’m taken back to the time I spied on him in the act. The scenery is different, and this time he’s with three females. It’s only a short clip and cuts out before I can actually tell what’s going on. I want to be disgusted, but I watch it over and over again, until another link comes through. This time it’s of me, standing in the hallway watching him from years ago. He’s kept the security footage and somehow had it on hand to send to me. Once again I’m speechless. This man terrifies me. I’m not in control, and signing that document is probably going to be the death of my career and possibly my dignity. He’ll destroy me and I’ll let it happen, because the more I fight to keep my distance, the more drawn I am to the possibility of being more than I am right now.

  I’m curious about his lifestyle. He’s always happy. I’m envious. Sex won’t solve all my problems, but I’m definitely lacking something in the bedroom that used to fuel me to be outgoing and confident. I don’t want to be a slut. Sleeping with multiple people at once isn’t something I’ve ever considered. His world is foreign and dangerous. It can’t hurt to try, especially when I know I’ll finally get to be with him; the man who has taunted me until I broke.

  I shoot him a reply I think he’ll appreciate before turning off my device and heading up to bed.

  I can handle anything you throw at me, but it has to be just you. The gloves are off. I’m at your mercy. Give it your best shot. I’m a big girl who knows her boundaries. I’m not scared of you. - Macy

  You should be. You have so much to learn, and I look forward to teaching you. - Ben

  Chapter 7

  Macy

  A month.

  He’s made me wait this long, but never explained why. In that time he’s taken me places, called every night after work, and even talked me into sharing revealing pictures of parts of my body. For better terms we’ve been flirting for over thirty days and I’m tired of it. Just when I’m ready to tell him to get on with it, he invites me to his place.

  This is the moment I’ve anticipated. I’ve played it out in my mind over and over again. His touch, the way his lips will feel, the thickness of his cock as he fills me. I’ve thought of every detail as if it really happened. No one has ever been more ready to have sex than I am right now. I feel like a fourteen-year-old boy watching his first porno flick. It’s embarrassing how nervous I’ve become. Maybe this was Ben’s game all along. Maybe he seduced me only to teach me a lesson and go slow, even if it was mutually torturous. It certainly has enabled him to remain in control. He’s the boss and I’m his eager apprentice. For someone I used to hate I feel like I’m getting to know more about him on a personal level. Aside from being conceited, and a complete asshole at times, he’s also generous and thoughtful. He opens doors for people, and often picks up the bill for office dinners. He sends flowers to associates for special occasions, and attends events I know he wants no part of.

  All of our late night talks have caused my opinions to change, and they’ve also done something I never expected.

  I trust him.

  I trust that Ben won’t hurt me.

  He’s not doing this to ruin my career. He wants me. His desire to be with me makes parts of me feel alive again. The anticipation has only heightened my senses in preparation. It’s all I think about.

  Then it happens. The moment I’ve been waiting for. I arrive at his large all brick front home. He greets me, while still dressed in what he had on earlier at the office. Now he’s got a drink in his hand I want to assume is brandy or bourbon. Ben leads me inside by holding onto the small of my back. I’ve been here before, when he had a summer get together for all the partners and associates of the firm. The home was once his father’s, but he’s since retired into a small condo. He spends the winters in Florida with his wife who hates the cold.

  Ben doesn’t ask me to sit down. Instead he takes me through the house until we’re standing at a set of stairs to a lower level. I give him a worried glance. “Are you taking me downstairs to kill me?”

  “No. It’s quite the opposite. I told you to be patient and trust me. Do you trust me, Macy? Do you trust that I’ll make sure you don’t leave this house until you’re properly cared for?”

  I nod while staring into his hazel, desolate eyes. “I do.”

  He runs two fingers over my lips to part them. Then he leans forward and kisses me. It’s slow, passionate, and quickly heats things up. Before I’m able to wrap my arms around him and beg him to take me to bed he pulls away. “Sorry. I just needed a taste.”

  I’m dizzy. We’ve been down the basement for what feels like hours. I promised him I’d be open to this, that I’d do whatever he wanted in order for us to be together, and now I’m scared. The blindfold is loose, but with my hands restrained to the back of a hard wooden chair in the corner of the room, I’m unable to pull it away from my eyes. The sounds radiate off the cream colored walls; moaning, tiny cries, body parts slapping, and heavy breathing. I assumed I’d been invited to partake in this type of activity, though now I feel as if I’m being punished. Nothing makes sense. He brought me into his world. He told me it would change me; that I’d finally be able to take control of every aspect of my life. He promised that if I let him bring me into his secret lifestyle I’d understand him. It’s not just about the sex. I want his power. I need to know what’s hiding behind the façade. I need to know why I can’t shake the need to be close to him. What is it about him that makes me want to jump in bed with the devil? I’m tired of waiting to figure it out.

  Having signed a ridiculously detailed non-disclosure agreement pertaining to the security of my position at the firm, I’d promised to keep any outside activities to myself.

  In the past month he’s given me the rules, even conditioned me for what’s to be expected. I’ve prepared, mentally, and physically looked forward to what’s in store. He’s made it difficult for me, forcing me to wait it out. The grueling weeks drug by slowly, but also gave me time to reconsider. I know there isn’t rainbows and sunshine waiting for me. I’m about to partake in what many would consider taboo. Sleeping with my boss isn’t exactly safe sex. But I can’t fight it anymore. I want him, more than I’ve ever wanted anyone before. I need his hands on me. I want to feel his lips coursing over mine. My body yearns for him to take me, to teach me, but mostly to make me whole again.

  I’ve been curious for years, only recently having the nerve to approach the matter. Something inside of me has changed. I’m no longer hiding behind a fake persona. I’m doing this for me, because what’s been undiscovered has left me incomplete. Perhaps it’s why my marriage didn’t work out. I tried, for lack of better words, gave it my all. I wanted to be a good wife; the woman Frank needed. He never expected much, just someone who could be a friend, companion, and mother. For some reason it never felt natural to me.

  My inability to conceive left me burdened with guilt. He resented me, even without admitting it out loud. Looking into his empty eyes was enough to feel worthless.

  Now I’m seeking attention from the person I
swore I’d never respect.

  Ben has led me to this room, and then had me remove all my clothes while he watched. He rubbed me down with a lavender scented lotion and taunted me with the inclination of what he intended to do to me. Then none of it happened, at least not yet.

  Why else has he brought me here? Does he get off torturing me in this manner? Is this how he thinks he’ll teach me to obey? Is this the first step? Am I some kind of sexual object he requires to tame? Is this all a huge mistake on my part?

  I keep running these things through my head to figure it out, but I’m left unknowing and fearful. I’m at his mercy, and for the first time in my life I’m ready to beg for more. I’m desperate. I need him to at least touch me, and I don’t know why I want him to.

  At the same time I’m trying to convince myself this is a good idea, I also know Ben is elusive. The way he looks at people makes them intimidated. I can only imagine what he must be thinking in his messed up perverted mind. I didn’t always know about his dark side. He does a good job keeping up appearances. For the most part his personal endeavors are something that remains private. Had I not seen them for myself I never would have questioned it.

  So back to being tied up, naked, waiting for him to breach the distance between us…

  One might question what changed my mind. He’d backed off since that day, but the innuendos were always there. I tried to bury them – to hide them where I’d learn to forget, but found nothing but curiosity instead. I lie in bed at night and wonder what happened after I’d walked away. During sex with Frank, the man I’d vowed to love and cherish, I’d put myself in that room with those people in order to get off. My own husband couldn’t satisfy me. He couldn’t distract my wandering thoughts enough for us to connect.

  Asking for a divorce wasn’t difficult. I think he’d been toying with the idea for months before I mentioned it. We’d grown apart, and as much as I’d like to think a shrink could help us patch what was broken I know it’s not the case. I’m damaged. My body doesn’t work the way it should. He’ll never appreciate me, and I’ll always feel like I’m not good enough for him. Frank deserves a house full of children. He was put on this earth to be father, while I still haven’t found my purpose.

  Don’t get me wrong, I know I won’t find it in the arms of Bennington Winthrop, but at least I’ll have fed the hungry dragon inside of me enough to figure out where to go from here. I can’t keep wondering. I have to know why I’m obsessed with this man, and what, if anything, he can help me to discover about myself.

  Chapter 8

  Ben

  I’m not the patient man I keep claiming to be, but I’ve given her the time she needed to come to her senses. Macy Stone can never know I handpicked her from the start. Everything I’ve done was to prepare her for my taking. From the moment I first laid eyes on her I knew she’d eventually be mine. Macy is like a fine wine, aged to perfection, while I’m the connoisseur, waiting to sample my first taste. This isn’t going to be easy, holding out to show her she’ll never be in control. I need her to know her place. In order to ensure she does, I have to provide her with the necessary tests. I want things my way and I’ll go to great lengths to have it, especially when it comes to her.

  First, she’ll be forced to listen.

  When I know she can’t take it any longer I’ll let her watch.

  She’ll remain bound to the chair in the corner while I have my way with someone else. This isn’t about domination or submission. I’m not into the labels. Power may be the key, and I like being in control, but I also enjoy being controlled at times. The women I spend private moments with need to be conditioned for such actions. They need to mentally and physically prepare. I’m not talking about eating and exercise habits. I’ve found women of all sizes can harbor the kinds of attributes I enjoy. It’s a mind game, and unless they’re focused, our connection will never work.

  Unlike the monotonous life of marriage, I appreciate natural selection. I’m human. We’re not meant to be monogamous.

  The person I’ve selected to participate with me is someone I’ve have intercourse with many times. Her name is Denise, and she’s a Veterinarian. Much like the animals she tends to, Denise has a wild side she keeps hidden from everyone but me. She knows I keep her secret safe, as well as the others I get involved with.

  Denise knows exactly what I expect from her. She’s one of my favorites, which makes her the perfect candidate to perform for Macy’s benefit.

  Since this is the first time Macy’s been invited to my home for this type of activity, I’ve positioned Denise in an adjacent room with a double sided mirror, so she’s able to watch me undress Macy. As I prepare, I’m unsure of what to expect from my little project. This could all backfire, but I’ve yet to have it happen to me. Macy has finally come to me on her own accord. She wants to partake in my lifestyle, so I’m determined to show her exactly what’s in store, one step at a time.

  I’ve ordered Macy to slowly undress in front of me while she watches me taking her naked appearance in for the first time. I say the first time, but that’s actually a lie. I’ve managed to get her to send me body shots from her phone in the past weeks, but nothing compares to being inches away, able to see the goose bumps as they protrude from her creamy skin.

  I like that she’s nervous. It allows me to be aware that she already knows I’m inferior. She has to remain open minded, and what better way than to push her to her limits, in order to see how far beyond them she’s willing to go with this first encounter.

  I’m not really sure what Macy expects. She’s not here tonight so I can fuck her, or her me for that matter. Macy is here to learn. She needs to be educated, so that she’s able to perform without overanalyzing it. Sex isn’t only for mutual satisfaction. It’s necessary for a healthy lifestyle. It releases endorphins many of us build up through stress and experiences. Macy is the exact definition of this. She’s ended a marriage she wasn’t interested in. She’s fallen victim to depression, and even a sense of never being good enough.

  I’ve read some of her emails to her therapist. I know the medications she’s begun taking to feel normal. Now it’s time to show her they’re not needed. I’m about to raise her to greatness, and when I’m done she’ll be everything I need her to be. Most of all she’ll be mine.

  When she’s finally completely naked before me, I step back and take her in for several minutes. While I notice she’s uncomfortable, I ravel in accomplishment. Step one is complete.

  Macy is scared. It’s important that remains. I can’t have her thinking any of this is going to be easy. There is no room for jealousy or second-guessing when it comes to the women I bed. She needs to remember that.

  My voice remains calm and collected as I give her more instructions. “Sit down in the chair in the corner.”

  She begins to walk backwards until I catch her arm, forcing her to stop.

  I cock my head as I reiterate. “Are you already defying me?”

  “No.” I can tell she’s fearful, like I’d hurt her for pleasure. For a second I conjure up a half-smile to show my amusement.

  “Turn around and walk to the chair while I watch your supple thighs rubbing together.”

  Her cheeks redden before she twirls and begins to saunter in the direction of the seat. I’m right behind her as she settles in, kneeling down so we’re face to face. I witness her plump lips separating as if she’s about to speak, but place one finger across them. I can only imagine what it’s going to be like to suck on them eventually.

  “Uh, uh, uh. Not yet.”

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  I reach under the chair and obtain the lotion I left there earlier in preparation. When her eyes see what it is she seems to relax a bit. I squirt a strand of the cold substance over her left inner thigh, catching the sound of her sucking in air from the temperature of it. I do the same to the opposite side then sit the bottle back down in it’s place so that I can get to work lathering up her skin. This act i
sn’t for Macy as much as it is for me. I’m hungry to sample the way my hands feel against her warm skin. Even though I know she’ll find a slow massage as a turn on, I’m focused on memorizing all the places I’ll tend to when the time is right.

  She won’t be ready tonight. Macy isn’t like the other women I bed. She doesn’t know what to expect from me. The unknown fuels her, while others bask in the knowledge of our mutual interests when it comes to sex. Unlike most people who fuck for the thrill, or just to relieve an urge, when I have sex it’s to remind myself that I can have anything I want. Two people need to connect more than an attraction. I’m about to teach Macy the difference, and when I’m done she’ll have a choice to make.

  As I work my way up her thighs our eyes meet. A rush of heat beckons from my stiff cock, but I choose to ignore it. This woman has made me wait entirely too long, and even though I’m doing my best to withhold for her own good, abstaining from her might be a tough task.

  I’m writhing with desire to take her to new heights, albeit determined to do this the right way. When her hands reach down to touch mine I immediately react the best way I know how. I stand and rush over to a closet where I pull out a thick wad of rope. Her reaction is once again worried as I come back to kneel before her. “I can’t allow you to participate, Macy. This is for your own good.” I take both hands and put them behind her back, tying the rope tight enough where she won’t be able to break free, and then I pull out a handkerchief from my back trouser pocket. She’s looking at me with regret as I stick it over her gray eyes and tie it against her brunette locks of wavy hair.

  She doesn’t like this. She’s fearful of what she can’t see, and I’m not about to give her any hints of what will happen. It’s time for Macy to use all of her senses. Most people zone out when they’re involved with intercourse and foreplay. They forget about their troubles and absolve themselves until the deed is done. Those type of people will never be able to experience the gratification I get from pleasing a woman. Until someone is willing to open themselves up, it will never happen.

 

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