Read The Agreement Online

Authors: S. E. Lund

The Agreement (45 page)

It made sense to me in a neurological way, but
psychologically, it still made me feel uncomfortable. I was now getting used to
being totally restrained, hand and foot, my eyes covered with a blindfold while
he played with me, eliciting more and more response from my body and mind. In
fact, I might have been too eager for Drake, for he seemed to want to proceed
more slowly than I did. He told me I had to learn patience.

That he knew how fast and how far to go.

If there was one negative to our relationship,
it was just that it was so constrained by his desire to keep things so
compartmentalized. I had one role in his life – being his submissive. It
was also difficult being unable to be open about what limited relationship we
did have, to sneak around, not seeing each other outside of 8
th
Avenue. It made the old
apartment all the more special, but at the same time, a sense of grief often
filled me when I left. I knew that this relationship was probably doomed to die
a natural death once we'd explored everything and reached whatever limits we
both had. I also felt sad that I couldn't share the rest of my life with him.
Christmas was coming and I'd be alone at the very time when I wished I had
someone with me to celebrate. Drake had no family left, except a long-lost
mother who he never saw.

I had to shut that thought off, push it into the
back of my mind. For the present at least, I was in a state of near bliss,
going through my day on the days I would meet him aroused, breathless,
butterflies in my stomach thinking of his strong warm body and hands claiming
me once I was completely under his control.

I trained myself not to think of ever seeing him
outside of the apartment and relating to him as anything other than his play
partner and submissive. I just shut that part of me off as best I could. But
the sadness lingered, a tiny part of me watching myself from the outside as I
walked up the steps to the old brownstone, sad for myself. Pitying myself that
I'd found such a wonderful man but couldn't be his completely, couldn't have
him completely as my own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

 

Drake was waiting for me when I arrived at the
apartment on 8
th
Avenue on Saturday
night. I'd made an excuse to stay at home alone when Dawn called me wanting to
go see a film. I claimed to be sick, and luckily, she called Jill instead and I
was off the hook.

I ran up the stairs, excitement building in me
that tonight was the night – our first fetish party together and I
wondered what he had planned. He said he'd been out to one of the leather shops
in Manhattan to look for appropriate fetish wear for me and I'd gone on Friday
to get waxed, so I was smooth, the way he liked. No wacky design left in the
pubic hair like the attendant suggested. No heart, no landing strip. Just pure
bare skin. Luckily, my skin and hair seemed the type not to react badly to the
waxing and I loved how smooth I felt to the touch.

Drake stood in the doorway, smiling. He wore a
really nice pair of low-slung black leather pants and nothing else, his chest
and feet bare.

"There you are," he said, pulling me
into his arms once I had my coat off. He rubbed his face in my hair and
breathed in deeply. "You smell so good."

I wrapped my arms around his waist, my hands
sliding up his strong back, over his smooth skin, and then down to cup his ass
through the leather pants.

"I think I really
really
like the
pants. What are you wearing underneath?"

"Commando," he said, grinning against
my neck, his cheek raising. "I have to be ready to fuck you at the drop of
a hat."

"Oh,
God
…" I said, gasping when
his hands slipped under the hem of my dress to feel my naked pussy.

"Oh, God is
right
," he said,
murmuring against my neck. "I don’t know if I can wait until later to fuck
you but I want to at the club."

I pulled away and looked in his face, in his
eyes, which were already dark with lust.  "But not in front of
anyone, right?"

"
Katherine
," he said, his voice
a bit hard. "We're in scene."

 I inhaled deeply and nodded. "Forgive
me, Master."

"Forgiven," he said. "As if I
could ever
not
forgive you." Then, he frowned a bit. "As for
what happens tonight, do you
trust
me? Do you trust me to know what you
need and what you can handle?"

I looked into his blue eyes. "Yes.
Completely." He frowned and waited, and I realized what I'd done.
"Yes, Master."

"Good girl. I decide what happens tonight,
not you. Your one out is to use the safe word."

"I never want to use it, Master," I
said, frowning, my voice wavering from nerves.

 "Neither do I," he replied.
"Now, I see I'm going to have to wipe that frown off your face." Then
he turned me around in his arms, tickling me from behind. I giggled and tried
to wrestle out of his arms, but he was too strong. Finally, when I was in near
hysterics from his fingers, he let me go.

"Off to the bathroom," he said and
smacked me on the ass. "I have something for you."

I mock-screamed at his smack, which didn’t hurt
at all, and ran to the bathroom as he chased me, his hands reaching out.

I stopped inside the bathroom and leaned against
the vanity, wondering what he had for me. He entered with a box in his arms. It
was from the leather shop and I knew what it was – a leather corset dress
as he said. He'd taken measurements of me the last time we were together and
said he'd pick something out for me to wear.

"Take off your clothes."

I complied immediately, eager to try on whatever
he had in the box. He was busy unwrapping it and when I was completely naked, I
stood waiting, excitement building in me.

He glanced up from the contents of the box and
smiled. "That's what I like to see." He came to me and wrapped his
arms around me, pulling me against him. He kissed my neck, bit my shoulder just
a bit and then stepped back.

"I got you a very nice black number,"
he said. "But first, there's this." Then he reached into the box and
pulled out a thick black leather collar. It was lined with felt on the inside
and had a silver buckle and a padlock.

"My
collar
," I said, reaching
up to feel my neck. I smiled and held my hair up so he could put it on.

"Wait," he said, holding up a hand.
"There's more to it than just putting it on. This is symbolic, Katherine,
of our relationship. It signifies that you're mine, completely and totally,
when you wear it. Do you understand that? Completely and totally mine."

He held my gaze, his eyes intense.

"Yes, Master," I said, my throat a bit
choked. "I understand."

"Good girl," he said and kissed me.
"It means no hesitation from now on when you wear it. No questioning my
decisions. No avoiding what I order you to do. You obey immediately and
completely without thinking or reservation. You only think of how to please me.
If you don't submit fully and with pleasure to what I demand, you have to
expect that I'll punish you. Up until now, we've been just playing a bit with
D/s. This is serious now. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," I said a bit too
quickly, eager to have him put it on.

He took my chin in his hands, and caught my eye.
"
Katherine
, I want you to focus. Tell me what this means. When I
put this collar around your neck, what does it mean?"

I inhaled, blinking. He was really serious about
this part. I had to rein myself in and think clearly.

"It means I am yours totally. I obey you
completely without hesitation."

He looked long in my eyes.

"
Master
," I said, grimacing.

"Good girl. But it's more than just a
symbol of possession. It means I've
chosen
you and you've chosen
me
.
I'm offering this to you – being your Dom. You've accepted with all that
means. It means we're exclusive. People take collaring very seriously in the
lifestyle. Do you understand how serious this is? It's not given lightly. It's
not just for show."

I swallowed and looked in his eyes. He was very
serious, his face almost grim.

"Yes, Master."

He nodded but kept looking at me as if searching
my face for a sign that I
did
understand.

"Now turn around and hold up your
hair."

I did and he stepped closer behind me, kissing
my shoulder first, then he wrapped the collar around my neck, watching in the
mirror as he fastened the closure and secured the tiny padlock. Then he held up
the key. The black leather was shiny, thick.

"Slave," he said, his voice serious.
"This key is mine, just as you are mine when you wear my collar. When I
put this on and close the lock, wherever we are, you must obey me immediately,
and fully. No hesitation, no complaints. If you do hesitate or complain or fail
to comply, I must punish you. Do you understand?"

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes,
Master."

I examined myself in the mirror. The collar was
thick, but not uncomfortable, the soft grey felt buffering the feel of the hard
leather. 

"You look delicious, slave. I want to eat
you. In fact, I think I will eat you before we go. But first, I'm going to
dress you."

Then he slipped the black leather corset dress
out of the box and I stepped into it. The skirt was far too short, barely
covering the tops of my nylons, and the bodice far too big, but I realized that
he could tighten the corset with ties in the back.

He pulled the ties and soon, the top fit more
tightly, the boned bodice pushing up my breasts, squeezing them together so
that I was a bit uncomfortable.

"How's that feel?" he said, his voice
a bit husky. He ran his hands over the tops of my breasts which spilled out
over the leather cups.

"It's a bit tight," I said, adjusting
my breasts against the leather.

"Can you breathe?"

I took in a breath. "Yes."

"Good. That's perfect. You look…" he
said, eyeing me up and down. "
Delicious
." Then he reached into
the box and pulled out a black lace garter belt and black fishnet stockings.
"Put these on. Then I'm going to eat you."

I complied, my body warming to the thought he
was going to make me come. I pulled the garter belt on and then sat on the edge
of the tub and pulled on the stockings, one after the other. He knelt down and
fastened each garter to the stockings. Then, before I could move, he forced my
legs apart and I had to grip the back of the tub for support as he lifted one
of my thighs over his shoulder.

I wedged the other foot against the wall, and
when he kissed me, I almost jumped.

"Oh, God, Master, I don't know if this is a
wise position…"

"Don't argue with me, slave. Tell me if you
feel like you could lose your grip."

"Yes, Master," I said, closing my eyes
as he began licking me all over, his fingers spreading me open.

"I'm going to be very fast, Master," I
said, barely able to speak. "I've been aroused all day."

He glanced up at me. "Good. Just remember
to ask permission to come."

I nodded, my heart rate increasing as he slipped
a finger inside of me.

"Nice and wet," he said, then he
started licking me again, slowly, agonizingly slowly, before covering me with
his mouth and sucking me inside. It didn't take long after he slipped several
fingers inside of me before I was ready to come, and I had to suck in air to be
able to pull myself out of the moment.

"Master, I'm ready…"

"You're what?"

"I'm going to…"

He stopped his motions, leaving my body and
flesh aching with need. "I'm not sure if you deserve it. I think I want to
hear you beg."

"Please, Master. May I come now?"

"I'll think about it."

Then he began licking me again, his fingers
fucking me slowly. My impending orgasm began again and I gasped.

"Master, I…"

He once again pulled away and my orgasm stopped.
I groaned, my thighs quaking, my flesh aching, needing more stimulation.

"
Please
, Master," I said, my
arms shaking just a bit.

He licked me again, then sucked my clit between
his lips. I clenched around his fingers, my body so ready, just needing a bit
more stimulation. When he moved his fingers in me, stroking me, that was it and
I gasped.

But he stopped again, glancing up at me. "I
didn’t hear you ask nicely enough."

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