"I don't think of it as luck or chance, Miss (l/n). The harder I work the more luck I seem to have. It really is all about having the right people on your team and directing their energies accordingly. I think it was Harvey Firestone who said, 'The...
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Holy Fuck. I can't bring myself to even consider the food list. I swallow hard, my mouth dry, and reread it.
My head is buzzing. How can I possibly agree to all this? And apparently, it's for my benefit, to explore my sensuality, my limits – safely – really! I scoff angrily. Serve and obey in all things. All Things! I shake my head in disbelief. Actually, doesn't the marriage ceremony use those words... obey? This throws me. Do couples still say that? Only four months, is that why there have been so many? He doesn't keep them for long? Or have they had enough after three months? Every weekend? That's too much. I'll never see Chanel or whatever friends I may make at my new job – provided I get one. Perhaps I should have one weekend a month to myself. That sounds... practical. He's my master! To be dealt with as he pleases! Holy shit.
I shudder at the thought of being flogged or whipped. Spanking probably wouldn't be so bad. Humiliating, even though I wouldn't really mind. And tied up? Well, he did tie my hands together. That was... well, it was hot, scorching, so perhaps that won't be so bad. He won't loan me to another Dominant – damn right he won't. Why am I even thinking about this?
I can't look him in the eye. That's impossible! The only way I ever have any chance to see what he's thinking. Actually, whom am I kidding, I never know what he's thinking, but I like looking into his eyes. He has beautiful eyes – captivating, intelligent, deep and dark, with dominant secrets. I recall his hard-burning gaze and press my thighs together, squirming.
And I can't touch him. Well, no surprise there. And these silly rules... No, no, I can't do this. I put my head in my hands. This is no way to have a relationship. My body is drained of sleep. All the physical shenanigans I've been engaged in over the last twenty-four hours have been exhausting. And mentally..., this is so much to take on. As Miguel would say, a real mind-fuck. Perhaps in the morning, this might not read like a bad joke.
I scramble up and change quickly. Perhaps I should borrow Chanel's green flannel pajamas. I want something cuddly and reassuring around me. I head to the bathroom in my t-shirt and sleep shorts and brush my teeth.
I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. You can't seriously be considering this... My subconscious sounds sane and rational, not her usual snarky self. My inner goddess jumps up and down, clapping her hands like a five-year-old. Please, let's do this... otherwise, we'll end up alone with lots of cats and your classic novels to keep you company.
He is the only man I've ever been attracted to, and he comes with a bloody contract, a flogger, and a whole world of issues. Well, at least I got my way this weekend. My inner goddess stops jumping and smiles serenely. Oh yes... she mouths, nodding at me smugly. I flush at the memory of his hands and his mouth on me, his thick cock inside me.
Closing my eyes, I feel the familiar delicious pull of my muscles from deep, deep down. I want to do that again and again. Maybe if I just sign up for the sex... would he go with that? I suspect not.
