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so my stomach wouldn’t pooch out. I wondered what I looked like in just my garter, hose and high heels.
    Mr. Yakamura asked a question in Japanese.
    “Certainly you can touch her if you like,” Mason replied.
    Mr. Yakamura stood.
    “Tessa, step closer to our guest.”
    Too embarrassed to make eye contact, I took two steps forward as Mr. Yakamura took one. He reached up and cradled my breasts in his hands.
    “Lovely,” he said.
    He let his hands fall. They brushed down my torso, passed my belly button. I shivered.
    His right finger slid between my thighs and traced my smooth pussy lips.
    The tease was enough to send fresh cream down there. But he removed his hand and told me to turn around.
    When I did, he cupped my butt cheeks.
    “Nice.” He snapped the elastic straps on my garter belt, causing a double pop on my ass cheeks.
    I gasped. The exquisite stinging sensation reminded me of the whippings and spankings the Maddox brothers had given me. Would I get more now?
    Mr. Yakamura spoke in Japanese again.
    “Tess,” Mason said. “Our guest enjoys having beautiful objects to gaze at while we talk business. Go over there…” He pointed to a spot in front of his stuffed grizzly. “And get on your knees facing us.”
    Although the request seemed bizarre, I couldn’t imagine not doing as he said. There was something so titillating about being controlled like this.
    I walked over and got down on my knees.
    “Back straight. Knees further apart. Hands behind your back.”
    I tried to do as he asked, but he wasn’t satisfied. He came over and kicked at the inside of one of my knees, nearly causing me to fall over.
    “Wider stance.”
    Once my knees were spread as far apart as I could manage, he went back to his desk. He and Mr. Yakamura resumed their business discussion, but Mr. Yakamura often stared at me as they spoke.
    My body chilled in the air conditioned office, but reheated every time one of the men looked my way. And my bald little crotch had never felt more exposed.
    After fifteen minutes or so, Mr. Yakamura spoke in Japanese again.
    “Tessa, worship the bear,” Mason said.
    “Wha—um…sir?”
    “Turn around and pretend you’re praying to the bear on your knees. Mr. Yakamura would like a view of your backside for a while.”
    I turned around and relaxed onto my shins, bowing down until my forehead touched the carpet, stretching my palms out toward the bear.
    Mr. Yakamura grunted his satisfaction and the business talk continued.
    I wondered again what was wrong with me that I was letting Mason humiliate me and use me like this. Sure, I needed the money, but there was something more.
    It made more sense with Dixon. I was attracted to him. Mason and Mr. Yakamura were both handsome men, but I couldn’t imagine having romantic feelings about either of them.
    Yet, when Mason ordered me around and Mr. Yakamura fondled me like I was a possession he was admiring, I couldn’t deny the excitement.
    “Tessa, feet flat on the floor, palms on the floor, legs spread.”
    Really? What a ridiculous position.
    I was glad I’d taken all those yoga classes.
    Once I assumed the pose, I realized my pussy was open wide and my asscheeks were spread.
    The men said a few more words to each other in Japanese and Mr. Yakamura stood. A few steps and he was directly behind me.
    He laid one hand on my butt cheek. Fabric pressed against the opening to my pussy.
    Was that his crotch?
    Even as fear skittered across my skin, liquid excitement was coursing toward my opening. Then the cloth was gone and I looked through my legs to see Mr. Yakamura folding his fancy handkerchief and putting it back in his breast pocket. Apparently, that was what had been pressed against my crotch.
    “Our guest likes to take a souvenir of his visit,” Mason said. “You can stand now.” He showed Mr. Yakamura out.
    *****
    Mason had not allowed me to get dressed. He said they weren’t expecting more visitors other than Mr. Yakamura again, and Mr.