The Clerk
Copyright© 2026 by R. E. Bounds
Chapter 16: Belong to Someone
I kept smiling, letting the warmth in the room stretch between us, and Bambi just kept talking. Well ... it was more screaming than talking.
“I’m so stuck,” she gasped, wriggling slightly as her words tumbled out in a stream of breathy thoughts.
“Shit,” she murmured.
I turned the wand back on, letting it hum softly, and gently nudged her panties.
“Oh...” she moaned, voice trembling.
“Oh...”
“Mmmmmm...”
“Oh ... God!”
“Oh...”
“Oh...”
“Fuuuck!!!!”
I turned the wand off. She collapsed into a soft, shaky laugh—the kind that hides more than it shows, mixed with raw, urgent delight.
I flipped it back on.
“Oh. Oh. Oh!”
“Oh my God! My God! My God! My God!”
“Ohhhh...”
I killed the wand again, watching her shoulders shiver in the jacket.
She laughed, a breathy, teasing sound. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry ... I can’t help it. I’m trying to be quiet.”
“Do you want me to stop?” I whispered, my voice low and warm, brushing against her skin as I turned it back on, not waiting for her answer.
“No ... No ... This is so good. So ... so good.”
I pushed the wand up against her, knowing this would probably be the last one.
“Fuuuck!!!!! Ohhhhh God!!!! Fuuuck!!!!!”
I could see the tremors ripple through her, stronger now than before. It was more than her toes spasming—her whole body was caught in a wave she couldn’t stop.
I turned it off and let it fall down between her strapped legs.
Laying beside her I watched as her body quivered in aftershocks, limbs trembling and fighting against the straps with what little energy she had left.
Andrew was right about how strong he’d made the jacket. Bambi struggled against it. I mean, she really fought, but it didn’t give. Not even a little.
Her knees were still bent, her feet pressed up against her, exactly how they were when I strapped her in. No matter how desperately she fought. No matter how much she struggled during the night. She couldn’t move—unable to break free.
“Oh ... thank God,” she whispered, gasping.
“Fuuuck,” she repeated, eyes locking onto mine. “Fuck.”
“I’m so stuck,” she said, voice trembling, her body still quivering.
“This is the stuckest I’ve ever been in my entire life.”
I smiled, brushing my fingers along the curve of her thighs. “Better than orgasming while hogtied on a couch in front of friends?”
“Yes,” she replied laughing. “So ... so much better.”
I brushed my hand up against her, and the reaction was instant.
She gasped—a sound halfway between surprise and disbelief—her breath catching as though she’d been pulled out of a dream.
“Ah! ... oh my God!...” she breathed to herself, the words tumbling out as she struggled in the jacket and tried to push her legs free. “I can’t move ... so ... stuck ... so stuck...”
“So ... the jacket works really well,” I said quietly.
She managed a faint nod, still catching her breath.
“Yeah,” she whispered, a shaky smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “It works.”
“So many orgasms,” she gasped, almost in awe, finally surrendering to the wave of pleasure.
“I leaned close to her ear. ‘So ... it was better tied up. Forced?’”
She gave a faint nod, just breathing. “It was so intense. My body just took over—it didn’t care what my mind wanted. I couldn’t talk at all. I was completely stuck.”
I kissed her ear. “Uh-huh,” I whispered.
“The jacket ... and the muzzle.” I reached down and gently tugged at the straps holding her legs in place. “And these—they kept you from getting in the way, so I could give your body exactly what it wanted.”
I then traced my fingers along her trembling thighs again, feeling her heat, her laughter, her moans blending together. I know how sensitive she was ... and that’s exactly why I was touching her.
“Stop!” she cried, half in command, half in surrender.
She again fought the restraints. “I’ll scream!”
I leaned over her again, lips brushing hers, then teasing the tip of her nose. “I got Susan out of her jacket ... and she’s showering. Pipes are loud here. She can’t hear you.”
Bambi laughed again, full, breathless.
“Is that why you’re fucking me without the muzzle?” she gasped.
“Uh-huh,” I murmured. “I wanted to hear all those things you were saying ... all night.”
“Oh ... my ... God,” she whispered, sinking completely into the bed, exhausted. “I said so many really bad things.”
“Well ... it’s a good thing I had you in it to help with that potty mouth,” I said, teasing—but with a hint of seriousness. “Although ... that might mean I’ll have to start keeping you in a ball gag.”
“I wouldn’t be able to talk,” she responded, smiling.
“You would,” I shot back quietly. “It’d just come across really muffled. You know, to hide all those naughty words.”
“You wouldn’t be able to kiss me,” she murmured.
I leaned over her and gently kissed her upper lip ... lingering for a second with a smile before brushing my lips against her lower one.
“I’d just have to work around the ball,” I murmured. “It’d be strapped tight behind your teeth ... so, I’d still be able to still find those pretty lips.”
I unfastened the leather straps that had held her legs in place and released the one across her back. She stretched carefully, a small cry escaping her lips.
“Oh ... God,” she breathed.
“Go slow,” I said softly. “You’ve been like that for hours.”
She nodded, moving with care as the stiffness faded. Then she tried to roll onto her side. I grabbed one of the loosened straps and pulled her towards me, sliding an arm beneath the pillow to support her head.
As I drew closer, our legs brushed. She winced, shaking her head slightly, then adjusted her position until we found a quiet, comfortable closeness.
“I’m just sore,” she said with a faint, apologetic smile. “I’m really sensitive right now.”
“Multiple orgasms will do that,” I whispered back, our faces only a few inches apart.
“It was the vibrator,” she said quietly, looking at me.
“But ... you were so deep last night,” she continued, her voice dropping even lower. “Oh my god ... you were so deep.”
“I just kept screaming ... oh my god, I was screaming,” she said, her eyes widening. “I kept telling you to stop ... please, stop.”
“Sorry,” I told her apologetically. “Was that when you were struggling ... fighting under me, pulling as hard as you could to free your legs?”
She nodded softly. “I was screaming for you to come. Begging for you to, just so you’d get small.”
I let out a quiet chuckle.
“It’s just that you were taking it in really well—” I began, but then stopped.
“I mean, you were swollen ... like really swollen,” I said, as quietly as I could. “You were completely engorged ... so I knew you were really aroused.”
She nodded again, closing her eyes and smiling.
“I—I didn’t realize I was touching your cervix,” I said still sounding apologetic.
“It’s okay,” she replied gently. “I’ve just never been stretched that much ... you completely wore me out.”
She smiled at me, eyes closed, and laughed quietly. “I just need to get used to being tied up ... and ravaged.”
Opening her eyes and still smiling, she said, “And being taken from behind.”
I nodded. “Sorry ... I—I just got lost in the moment.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered again. “It’s not like I had a choice. I didn’t realize how easily you could control me in this.”
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “You’re kind of a little package.”
She really was. In the jacket, with her legs cinched in a frogtie, I could move her around the bed effortlessly. The straps threaded into the jacket were unbelievably strong and thick—essentially handles. Pulling her onto her side, flipping her over, or lifting her up required almost no effort at all.
But I’d make a few minor changes to it. I was running them through my head, thinking about how I’d approach Andrew about making another one for Bambi, when she pulled me back into the moment.
“Will I always have to sleep in the frogtie?” she asked. “I kind of like this.”
She was right. Wrapped around her like this ... it was nice. Really nice.
“I’ll stay in the jacket,” she said, “and the muzzle too, if you want.”
I nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
That’s when the water cut off.
“Susan will be out soon. We should get up,” I told her.
“There’s one thing we need to talk about,” she said, her expression serious.
I looked at her, my heart sinking. This was the part where she’d tell me she had a boyfriend ... or girlfriend ... or something that would just destroy me.
“What?” I asked, smiling, bracing myself for it.
“I’m not on birth control,” she said, staring at me for my reaction.
Then she bit her lip. “And I think it’s been ... like twelve or thirteen days since my period. So ... I think I’m ovulating.”
She looked at me very seriously. “There’s a chance you may have gotten me pregnant.”
I kissed her, laughing while trying not to cry. Then I walked around and helped her so she was sitting on the edge of the bed. When she tried to stand, she laughed and sank back down.
“Sorry—my legs are kind of goofy,” she said.
I smiled and grabbed the straps on the sides of her jacket, pulling her up.
She looked at me, wide-eyed—surprised again, I think, by how easily I did it.
“You’re definitely in complete control when I’m like this,” she said quietly.
“Did you want to take a shower?” I asked, unbuckling the straps.
She nodded.
“As much as I like your scent...” she paused, smiling. “Yeah. I can’t go home to my sister smelling like you—and sex.”
Her smile softened into something smaller, more thoughtful.
“She’ll have questions. Not that I’m embarrassed, but...”
She hesitated. “I just want to make sure this—make sure this is real before I tell her anything.”
I laid the jacket on the bed. “Yeah,” I said quietly, nodding.
She rose up on her toes and kissed me.
“Guess I’ll be in heels when we’re together now?” she said softly.
I shrugged, smiling. “That’d be nice.”
“I’ll need to buy some,” she said, smiling up at me. “And hosiery ... dresses ... skirts ... well, everything.”
“Maybe you can start picking out what you want me to wear,” she murmured.
“You know, at the store?” She then gave a small, teasing laugh. “I can come by and try it on.”
“We could keep some of it here?” she asked with a shrug. “Fawna will definitely start asking questions if she sees me in dresses and five-inch stilettos.”
She laughed again, shaking her head. “Especially stockings and pantyhose. Even our step mom doesn’t really wear them. But then, she’s only a few years older than us.”
I stared at her, probably looking surprised.
“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “Katherine’s ... maybe twenty-nine? I think?”
“Wow,” I said. “How old’s your dad?”
She winced, glancing upward as if counting. “Forty-eight?”
I nodded back. Yeah, I thought to myself. I guess there’s a lot I’ll be learning about her now. And that her stepmom is only a few years older than me.
“Trophy wife,” she said, smiling. “She’s pretty. A philanthropist or something.”
She paused, then added, “It means she’s unemployed and spends my dad’s money on causes to give her something to do.”
I smiled, trying not to laugh.
Reaching into the drawer, I pulled out a pair of black panties and handed them to her.
“Might be best if you put on a clean pair,” I said.
She nodded. “Thanks.”
“Did you want clean hose?” I asked.
“No, these are fine,” she replied. “They passed the get fucked by your girlfriend test.”
I smiled, nodding.
She called me her girlfriend.
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