The Chef
Copyright© 2025 by R. E. Bounds
Chapter 19: Committed to Our Future
“Are you okay, Sofie?” I asked.
She sat across from us, deep in thought. “Since yesterday, we talked about intimacy and how I’ll be tied up during sex. Becca has experienced that too, and we have a room full of bondage and fetish items that we call the ‘quiet room.’”
Smiling at Becca, she continued, “And you’ve just told me that you participate in pet play every month when you’re ovulating and just want to get pregnant. And your pet name is ‘Bitch.’”
We both stared at her, nodding.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Yeah. I’m good.”
“What about those dog bowls? You didn’t tell me what they’re for,” Sophie asked. “Do you use them during pet play?”
“No,” Becca said. “Um—they were used during the dinners at the mansion. The women ate from them. Their meals were served in them, and their partners fed them. Like us, but imagine our food being in dog bowls instead.”
“Okay,” Sophie said. “So, they didn’t have to eat from them like dogs.”
“No,” Becca replied. “We got them because they were part of the stuff from Minx and Sassy. We haven’t figured out what to do with them.”
“Are we eating from them?” Sophie asked. “I—I mean, did you want to use them as our dishes?”
Looking at Becca, I added, “We had discussed that maybe they’d make nice bowls for Lucie and Godfried.”
Remembering that time at our apartment when Becca hinted at eating from a dog bowl, I continued, “But we’re willing to experience things together. Honestly, it’s about what we’re comfortable with.”
Sophie nodded. “Okay. Um—let’s just leave them in the quiet room for now?”
We nodded. “We can do that,” I told her.
Sophie smiled at Becca, her expression with sadness. “I know you wanted to watch a movie tonight, but I don’t want to keep you from trying to have the baby you want. I should take Lucie home.”
Her words carried understanding and support, recognizing Becca’s wishes while also prioritizing what mattered most to her.
Becca smiled at Sophie. “I—We don’t want you to go home. I’ll be okay. There’s next month.”
“Really,” Sophie said, her voice softening. “It’s okay. I—I’m sorry again. I got so wrapped up in all of this, in us, that I didn’t even think about it.”
She paused, her expression turning serious. “It didn’t cross my mind that you’re a couple and that you’d want to start a family.”
It was clear that Sophie was visibly upset, her feelings reflecting the complexity of the situation and her genuine care for Becca and her desires.
“It’s an urge I get, but we’re not trying to get pregnant,” Becca explained.
“So, you’re not trying to have kids?” Sophie asked, her brow furrowing with concern.
“No,” Becca replied. “Not right now, anyway. Like I said, being involved in the pet play brings out that instinctual feeling of needing to reproduce.”
Her honesty helped to clarify the situation, easing some of the tension in the room as Sophie absorbed the information.
“But you will want to have children,” Sophie said, addressing both of us.
“Someday,” Becca replied, glancing at me.
Still looking down at her wrists, Sophie asked quietly, “How—how would that work with me?”
“Do you want kids?” Becca asked gently.
“Yes,” Sophie admitted softly. “I want to be a mom. I just thought it would be through surrogacy or adoption.”
She hesitated, her voice wavering. “I didn’t think—I don’t know what I’m thinking.”
Her uncertainty hung in the air, revealing the complication of her feelings about the future and her role in it.
As I sat across from her, I felt the weight of the conversation pressing down on me. Looking at Becca, we explained what we had learned from Mistress Liora at the mansion about William Marston and the two women in his life.
Their relationship opened our eyes to a direction we hadn’t fully recognized we were heading toward ourselves. It was surprising that it took a dominatrix to point out the obvious, but it prompted deep reflection.
We hoped that watching the movie would provide some clarity, a way to help us better understand our feelings. I conveyed to Sophie that we were grappling with uncertainty. Yet, we knew open communication was essential to ensure we were all okay. The path ahead felt daunting.
Despite the uncertainty, I emphasized how significant she had become in our lives. There was an emptiness when she and Lucie weren’t around, a void that highlighted how much we needed her presence. This wasn’t just about Becca and me anymore; we were envisioning a future that included the three of us.
As I spoke, I noticed Sophie and Becca in tears, their emotions raw and vulnerable. It was a moment of connection that underscored our shared journey.
I suggested they get comfortable and decide what Sophie would want from the quiet room while I prepared the movie. I’d meet them on the couch, ready to embrace whatever unfolded next in this evolving relationship.
A little while later, I heard the familiar sound of jingling chains, a sound I had grown accustomed to. I watched as the girls emerged from the bedroom, both in pajamas, but Sophie was in her transport restraints, wearing the short-chained leg cuffs.
It looked like Becca had also fastened her into the leather cuffs we’d gotten from Michelle and Sebastian—the ones designed to keep her wrists and ankles from bruising. At least, that’s what it seemed; she was wearing the other set they’d sent us. They’d given us two pairs: the ones Michelle had shown us, and another set adorned with metal studs.
“I just needed to know I couldn’t get out,” Sophie said as she hobbled over to the couch, walking on her toes. “And I know I can’t—not when I’m in these.”
I nodded with a smile, feeling a warmth spread through me as I caught Becca’s gaze, her expression mirroring my own.
With no hesitation, the girls curled up together on the couch. It was spacious enough for them to lie next to each other, with Becca nestled behind Sophie, wrapping her legs around hers and her arm around her waist, holding her cuffed hands securely. I gently covered them with a light blanket, feeling a sense of peace wash over me as I settled down at the end of the couch.
Becca was unbelievably ticklish, which made it nearly impossible to touch her feet unless she was in tights or thick hose. But with the girls pressed up against me, I placed my hands on their feet and discovered that Sophie wasn’t ticklish at all.
As I gently stroked them, I noticed her glance over at me, a warm smile spreading across her face. It felt like a perfect moment—a blend of comfort, connection, and the promise of new beginnings.
We watched the movie in the quiet of our home, the ambiance filled with a comforting intimacy. Halfway through, I noticed that Becca was gently caressing Sophie during some of the scenes. The softness of her touch spoke volumes, a silent communication that underscored their connection.
It was clear that the girls were being intimate, revealing a deep sense of trust and affection. As the film played on, I knew that Becca was taking advantage of Sophie’s hands, which were locked to her waist, and that she couldn’t move them.
At the same time, Sophie wasn’t objecting. I could feel Sophie’s body gently pulsate. I could hear her breathing. I knew Becca was touching her with the intent of making Sophie ours that night. And she did.
As I watched Olive dressed as an intimate Wonder Woman, the scene unfolded with an air of authority. Elizabeth, with a commanding presence, demanded that she place her hands behind her back.
Still caressing Sophie’s feet, I then gently held the short chain of her leg cuffs, preventing her from moving her legs. And in that moment, I felt her toes tensing. She quietly gasped and reached around to kiss Becca.
I felt a warmth settle in my chest, grateful for this moment we were sharing. The movie forced us all to reflect, but it was the quiet, tender exchanges between Becca and Sophie that genuinely resonated, highlighting the beauty of our evolving relationship.
As the movie came to an end, I noticed the girls wrapped around one another, both in tears. They lay silently, the weight of their emotions hanging in the air. It was a poignant moment, filled with vulnerability and connection.
I turned off the TV, allowing the quiet to settle around us. Stepping away for a moment, I disappeared into the bathroom.
I returned with tissues, my heart aching for the tenderness of the scene before me. Gently, I wiped their tears, my touch soft and careful, wanting to provide comfort in their moment of raw emotion.
As I tended to them, I felt a deep sense of connection—this was more than just a shared experience; it was a moment of intimacy that would strengthen the bonds between us. The act of caring for them felt significant, a small gesture that reflected the love and support we were building together.
I looked at Becca, who gently shook her head at me before burying her face in the back of Sophie’s neck, holding her even tighter. It was a raw moment filled with warmth and comfort. I knew she was telling me that she wasn’t going to let Sophie go home tonight.
Smiling at them, I suggested, “Why don’t you help Sophie get ready for bed? I’ll close everything up and meet you in the bedroom.”
Becca smiled back at me, tears still glistening in her eyes, and as she helped Sophie into the bedroom, I took a moment to tidy up. I checked on Lucie, who was peacefully sleeping and turned off the lights, feeling a sense of calm settle over the house.
When I finally walked into the bedroom, I saw the girls in bed. I turned off the lights and curled up next to them. Sophie lay between us, still in her leather cuffs, the connecting chain, and short-chained leg cuffs, a gentle reminder of the trust we were building. It felt right to have her there, a shared space that spoke to our evolving relationship.
I got up the following day, noticing the girls were still sleeping peacefully. As I quietly left the bedroom, Sophie stirred awake.
“I’m going to make us some breakfast,” I told her softly. “Why don’t you sleep in?”
She shook her head, her eyes brightening. “No, I’m awake. I slept like a baby.”
Then she smiled, glancing down at her restraints. “Even in these, I slept really well.”
Her words made me chuckle softly. It was reassuring to see her so content, even in that vulnerable state.
“Can I sit with you in the kitchen?” she asked, glancing down at her restraints. “I’d offer to help, but I don’t want these off.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I’ll make some coffee, and we can talk.”
Nodding, she smiled. “That sounds nice.”
I did just that, deciding a coffee cake might be a nice treat for the morning. I placed it on the table alongside steaming mugs of coffee and settled down with Sophie.
“Are you okay?” I asked her, noticing that while she seemed happy, there was a hint of sadness in her eyes.
“Yeah,” she replied, her voice soft. “Just thinking about a lot of things.”
I smiled gently. “Anything you want to talk about?”
“Just worried,” she admitted.
“About us?” I asked, sensing the weight of the implications from the movie last night.
She nodded, her expression serious. “Yeah.”
“We’re as scared as you,” I told her honestly. “Like I said, we have no idea about any of this. All we know is that we want you with us and that—well, we’re falling in love with you.”
Sophie looked at me, tears brimming in her eyes.
“All I do is cry here,” she chuckled softly.
I wiped her tears away and then offered her some cake and coffee.
“You made this, didn’t you?” she asked, a playful glint in her eyes.
“Um—yeah,” I replied, feeling a bit proud.
“Did you ever think about being a chef?” she asked, curiosity evident in her tone. “Chef Ben? Chef Benjamin? Chef Prescott? Hmm—all have a nice ring to them.”
“I thought about it once—contemplated it, but I guess I chased the money instead,” I replied with a shrug. “Maybe someday, if we have enough money, I’ll change careers.”
She smiled, her shoulders lifting in a casual shrug.
“There will be money from three of us. I—I mean, won’t there?” she said, a hopeful note in her voice. “So maybe you can.”
I smiled back, feeling a warmth at her optimism.
“Yeah, we have to talk about money, too,” I responded, contemplating the future.
Quietly, I added, “There’s so much to discuss.”
I looked at her, feeling the weight of the conversation ahead. “And we’ll do that. We’ll talk about all of it.”
I hesitated for a moment, gathering my thoughts. “But there’s something important we need to discuss. Before Becca gets up.”
Sophie met my gaze, her expression curious.
“I’ll carry your kids if you want,” she said, her voice steady. She nodded with conviction.
“I’d be okay with that. The kids belong to Olive and Elizabeth.” She smiled, a light shining in her eyes.