Bound and Blooming 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 1
Mara’s Hope

Mara

I told myself that every night as I lay in the narrow recliner Drake called my “station.” The belts pinning my chest and belly hummed faintly where the tubes connected, a steady drip-drip-drip of cream into my stomach. I swallowed without meaning to, like breathing. My body obeyed the machines, but my mind refused.

Some nights, I tested my bonds. I’d tug at the buckle when the straps were loose, shift my shoulders against the padding to see if the harness gave way. It never did. But every time I found even the smallest slack, a flutter of hope spread through me like fire.
I still had legs under me. They trembled when I shifted, but they were mine. My belly rested heavily across my lap now, my thighs pressed together tighter each week, but I could still feel the muscles beneath the softness. If I timed it right, if I used every ounce of strength left… maybe.

I pictured the door. The side door with the latch that didn’t always catch. I’d noticed it once when Drake forgot to pull it closed after bringing in a tray. A sliver of cool night air had brushed against my skin, faint but undeniable. Grass. Earth. Freedom.

That memory became my secret prayer. Lilly and Paige no longer looked toward the doors. Their eyes were always on Drake, or closed in drowsy surrender. I hated them for that, sometimes. Hated how easily they’d accepted their fate. I promised myself I wouldn’t.
I rehearsed my escape it silently. The shift forward, the push against my thighs, the surge of motion that would carry me across the barn floor. My belly would drag. My legs would burn. But I’d make it. I had to.
I couldn’t let my body become a monument like theirs. Not yet. I had hope. And hope was dangerous.

Chapter 2 
The Attempt

Mara

The barn hummed its low, endless song. Pumps ticked. Tubes sighed. Straps creaked faintly when Lilly shifted in her sleep. I’d been listening to that soundscape for weeks, memorizing its rhythms until I knew exactly when each valve opened, when Drake’s boots crossed the boards above.
Tonight was different. He’d gone upstairs early, a phone buzzing in his hand. The latch on the side door clicked, not all the way shut. A mistake. My chance.
My heart hammered so loudly I thought it might wake Paige. She hung slack in her harness across from me, lips around a straw, half-dreaming. Lilly too—her breathing was a slow tide, heavy enough to cover my shuffling movements.
The straps around me weren’t locked this time. He’d trusted the weight to keep me here. My body was heavier than it had ever been, thick with weeks of forced cream and custard, but adrenaline burned hotter than exhaustion. I rocked forward, thighs trembling, then pushed again until my knees scraped the padded mat.
The floor was cold against my bare soles. I almost cried at the sensation.
One step. Then another. My body lurched like a ship breaking free of its moorings, belly dragging me forward, arms flailing for balance. The door was only a few yards away, amber light spilling through the crack. I smelled grass. Night air. Freedom.
I reached it, one hand pressed against the wood, the other clawing at the gap. Cool air kissed my face. I could see the stars, tiny points sharp enough to hurt.
Then a shadow moved behind me. “Going somewhere?” His voice was calm, almost amused. I spun, or tried to. My ankle buckled under my weight, sending me crashing against the doorframe. The handle slipped from my fingers. Before I could scream, his hand closed around my arm. Iron. Unshakable.
“No,” I gasped. “Please. Please—” He dragged me backward with terrifying ease. My heels dug ruts into the dirt. The stars blinked out as the door slammed shut with a hollow boom. The hum of the barn returned, louder than ever.

I fought, thrashing against his grip, but the betrayal of my own body was absolute. My arms were too soft, my legs too weak. Every step forward had stolen something from me. Drake lowered his mouth to my ear. “You thought you could leave me? Leave this?” His other hand pressed hard into the swell of my belly, making me choke on my own breath. “No, love. You’re never leaving. I’ll make sure of it.”

He hauled me past the others, past the harnesses and platforms, toward the empty cradle at the far end of the barn. Belts gleamed in the amber light, waiting. When he shoved me into it, I knew: that fleeting taste of night air had been my last.

Chapter 3 
The Punishment

Drake

She thought she could run.
The marks on the barn floor proved it, two shallow ruts where her heels had dug in as I pulled her back, the echo of her gasps still hanging in the rafters. For one brief moment she’d tasted the night air, and now she would never taste it again.
I didn’t speak as I hauled her toward the far end of the barn. Words would have been wasted. I wanted her silence, her terror, her heavy body collapsing into my grip as if it already belonged to me.
The third cradle waited. I’d built it weeks ago, anticipating this. Wide belts gleamed in the amber light, padding thick as a mattress, the steel supports bolted deep into the floor. This one wasn’t designed for comfort. It was designed to erase the possibility of escape.
I lowered her into it. She whimpered, soft and useless, as her belly spread across her thighs. The cradle tilted forward just enough to let gravity do its work, her middle sagging down and out, making her body feel heavier than it already was. She tried to push against the sides, but her arms quivered like reeds in a storm.

“No more standing,” I said evenly, drawing the first belt across her chest. The buckle clicked, final and deep. “No more running.”
The belly strap was next, wide and unforgiving, sinking into the soft swell until the flesh spilled over the edges. She groaned, a sound caught between pain and surrender. I held her chin in my hand, forcing her eyes to mine. “You’ll stay here. You’ll grow here. You’ll forget what it felt like to move.”

The thigh restraints followed, pulling her legs apart just enough that her body rested entirely in the cradle. She was breathing fast now, the belt across her chest rising and falling as if trying to break free, but every breath only reminded her how tightly she was bound.
Then came the feeder. I fitted the nasal tube first, sliding it into place with practiced precision, taping it against her cheek. The pump hummed as I primed the line, thick cream swirling down toward her stomach. She tried to shake her head, but I caught her jaw and held it still until the flow began. Her eyes fluttered. She swallowed. She had no choice.
Next, the funnel. Stainless steel, polished, wide enough to hold a full quart. I pressed it against her lips, sealing the silicone rim. “Breathe through your nose,” I murmured, tilting it slowly until the first rush of melted custard slid into her mouth. Her throat worked automatically. She coughed once, then swallowed again, and again. “That’s it,” I whispered. “No more chances. No more hope. Just this.”

I alternated between the funnel and the pump until her belly strained taut, her groans muffled by the seal at her lips. Her eyes glassed over, not from pleasure, but from inevitability. I stroked the side of her face, slick with cream.
“You’ll never walk again,” I told her gently, as if it were a blessing. “You’ll be too heavy, too full, too mine.”

Across the barn, Lilly and Paige watched from their harnesses. Neither spoke. They didn’t need to. They knew. Mara was finished.