Page 9 of Bound to the Chef

“Meatloaf” hovers on my tongue, and I know he’ll never shame me for using it. In fact, he’d be far angrier if I don’t use it when I need to. And so, I struggle within myself, debating how much I trust him versus how much I trust my body.

He gives me ample time before bringing the knife down, as if he senses my struggle. But as I remain silent, he makes the first cut. The sound of the knife going through the flesh of the strawberry rings out in my ears as loud as a thunder crack. Time stands still.

The knife grazes against my skin, but I don’t feel the searing pain I’m expecting. Letting go of my breath in a loud whoosh, I sag against the table, feeling almost faint. As I relax, he cuts far more vigorously, mirroring the techniques he uses in the kitchen.

Soon, wet, sticky juice drips down my side and onto the plastic. I can’t even count how many strawberries he’s cut so far. Every so often, he clears them from my body and moves them somewhere else, only to start all over again.

I lose all sense of time as I drift, unable to keep myself coherent. After a while, I’m vaguely aware of plastic being laid down on top of me. It covers me from just below my breasts to my neck.

“Now, I know many of you have asked me how to maintain such a magnificent cutting board. Normally, for wooden ones, I suggest oil and wax every two months. However, for omega cutting boards, a decent amount of cum should do the trick. I’ve laid plastic down, dividing off the upper part so you can see the difference between cum soaked and not.” His tone takes on a tinge of humor as he continues. “This will also allow you to eat fruit straight off of the table without fear of body fluids.”

Master Jason pays me no mind as his grunts fill the air. But then, why would he? I’m just an object, a piece of furniture for his use. His little cum slut. For some, that might be the most horrible thing in the world; however, for me, it’s a chance to shut everything down, to blank out my mind, and just feel.

CHAPTER5

JASON

My little wife lies still on the table, barely breathing as I stroke my cock. Streaks of red and pink flow over her body, mimicking blood. How I long to run my tongue along the rivulets, drinking her deep inside me.

Grunting, I reach down and cup my balls, squeezing as my fingers fly up and down my shaft. The closer I get to coming, the more my knot swells. Already the tissue is swollen and sore, angry from denying myself the comfort of Rhylee’s body.

But I don’t plan to knot her until my teeth sink down into her supple skin. Even now, my gums ache with the need to make her mine completely. But we have time. Now that she’s my wife, we have all the time in the world.

I study her, taking in her beautiful curves. Her breasts move up and down as her shallow breaths rock through her body. Groaning, I step forward, aiming my cock at her stomach.

Closing my eyes, I grip my base, curses flowing past my lips as I come all over her. The moment the first warm drop hits her skin, she jerks slightly, her lips parting with need. I’ll allow her this small movement.

Honestly, I’m far too close to the edge to care. I move my hips back and forth, coating her skin with my essence. Those watching touch themselves again, driven mad by the scent of her arousal.

It’s potent, nearly making me dizzy. Squeezing and releasing, I milk my cock, leaving my knot alone once more. An ache floods my body, tensing everything. But it will be worth it once I bind her to me.

Ignoring the throb threatening to distract me, I place my hands in the sticky mess. “You want to rub it deep into the skin, getting every inch.” With each pass of my fingers over her sensitive skin, Rhylee’s face tightens.

She wants so desperately to move. I can see it written in every rigid line. Reaching across, I drag the mixture of fruit and cum over her lips, watching for her to take the bait. Somehow, she manages to resist, but I can see the toll it’s taking on her.

It’s torturous for both of us and soon, I’ll need to gather her into my arms and fuck her into oblivion. But first, we need to serve our guests. Walking over to the nearby sink, I wash my hands, lathering them well.

With the others watching, their gazes hungry, I set the silicone cups laden with sliced fruit in various places. My drying cum adheres them to her body, holding them in place as her ragged breaths threaten to dislodge them.

Taking off the plastic, I place thin slivers of strawberries around her nipples, using her body as a canvas. How I long to take her in my mouth. In fact, it’s watering just thinking about it.

“Samhain feast is ready for those who wish to partake.”

As the others gather around, their fingers grabbing bits of strawberry, I keep a close eye on them, noting where and how they’re touching her. Even those taking the fruit directly from her breasts use care and caution, never once taking liberties. Rhylee’s nipples stand at attention, the buds swollen with arousal with each piece lifted from her.

Running my fingers through her lower lips, I feel the arousal as it drips from her. Unable to resist the siren call of her body any longer, I sink to my knees and feast. Her slick coats my face as I plunge my tongue deep inside her pussy.

She spasms around me as the telltale clink of the restraints tells me just how much she’s moving. Pulling back, I go up to the head of the table and frown down at her.

“Open your eyes.”

It takes her a moment, but when she does, I note her blown-out pupils. My little wife is deep in subspace. It’s not fair to punish her for something she has no control over. Smiling, I run my fingers through her hair, sighing as she gives me a soft, drunk-looking grin.

“Is my little table ready to be a human again? Ready for me to knot you, baby?”

“God, yes,” she cries out, earning a smattering of laughs from the others.

Taking my time, I unhook her restraints, stalling as I rub the joints and limbs, bringing blood back to the area. She moans softly, the relief evident in the gentle sound slipping from her lips.

---