“I’ll be right there beside you, and there are two bouncers with Stephen. I promise he won’t touch you.”
“O-okay.”
I offered her a smile of reassurance before knocking on the door. One of the bouncers answered and stepped once more into position beside the office entrance, legs spread and arms crossed.
“Come in,” Chantelle called from inside.
“Ladies first.” I laid my hand on Becky’s lower back, and she trembled beneath my touch. She stepped over the threshold, and I followed on her heels like a protective papa bear.
“You lying, conniving bitch,” Stephen spat, standing from the couch to our left.
Titus, the bouncer standing beside him, grasped Stephen’s shoulder and forced him down with an effortless shove.
“Cock-sucking whore,” Stephen continued to spew while glowering. “You’ll give in to the jolly green fucking red-headed giant and hold back your orgasms from me for twelve fucking years? You’re nothing—”
“Enough.” Chantelle’s Domme voice cut Stephen clean off, his trap slamming shut.
Ball-less pussy. I wanted to laugh. He was all fucking talk.
Chantelle rounded her desk and hugged Becky. Indiscernible whispers passed between the two women before Chantelle led her cousin to the chair facing her desk. “Care to tell me what happened?” she asked, perching on the edge of her desk between Becky and Stephen.
Becky glanced over her shoulder at me, a flush rising up her face. “I ... uh...” She cleared her throat and turned back around. “Stephen volunteered me to be Master Cooney’s assistant,” she whispered, lowering her gaze.
“Go on,” Chantelle said as Stephen muttered something under his breath.
“He tied me up.”
“And?” Chantelle prompted even though Becky’s tone and slumped shoulders said she didn’t wish to continue.
I didn’t care for the way she put Becky on the spot, making her uncomfortable in front of me and two other men, but she’d asked me to trust her, so I bit my tongue.
Becky glanced toward Stephen.
“Whore.” He spat on Chantelle’s carpet.
Becky jerked her face forward once more, cowering.
I clenched my fist as Chantelle ignored Stephen’s outburst. “What happened, Becky?”
“I-I...”
“She had her first fucking orgasm,” Stephen answered for her with a scowl, his eyes hard. “Unfaithful bitch supposedly can’t come with me for all the years I’ve taken care of her, and she gets off without anyone touching her dry cunt.”
Chantelle turned toward Stephen as Becky curled inward even more.
“I hardly think her cunt was dry if she orgasmed. Perhaps the problem is yours, sir,” she mocked him with a title he didn’t deserve any more than he did Becky’s loyalty for so damn long.
But I knew what went down in abused women’s heads. I’d seen it. Had heard it.
“It’s not my motherfucking problem!” Steam should have rolled from Stephen’s ears at his raised voice. “Not my fucking problem!” he hollered again. “I’ve put in every effort to help her orgasm! Every kink imaginable, and she never allowed herself to respond to me. Never! Canes. Whips. Chains. I’ve fucked her every which way, every hole, and she’s always refused me!”
“Is it true that you don’t willingly give Stephen your climax?” Chantelle asked Becky, her voice soft and gentle, a harsh contrast to Stephen’s ranting.
Becky shook her head.
“Lying whore!”
Becky ignored him. “I don’t know why I came tonight,” she whispered, tears coating her voice.