Contract Taken (Contracted Book 1)

by Aya DeAniege

  “Oh, I'm sorry, do I exist now?" I retorted back, jabbing at the screen in annoyance. After a moment of silence, I straightened and glared at Mr. Wrightworth, who had that Cheshire cat smile again. "Why don't you just fuck off and tell them, or get off the horse and tell him that you've already arranged it?"

  The smile grew larger. “Have I told you, yet, how much I enjoy your temper?”

  “Only because you'd enjoy beating me for my mouth,” I snorted.

  “That," Mr. Wrightworth sighed out. "Yes, that's true. Who wouldn't want to watch you cry, though?

  “Oh, me first,” a sultry, female voice said from behind me.

  I stiffened and glanced at Nathaniel. The man reached over and set a hand on my leg gently, yet possessively. Swallowing my fear, I turned in the pew and came face-to-face with Mayfair.

  Nathaniel was right about her. Up close it was obvious that she had had a great deal of work done. There were no wrinkles on her forehead or around her mouth. She looked far too smooth, too ... perfect in complexion. The makeup was overdone I thought, though I thought that about every rich woman I met for years afterward.

  She wasn't just the china doll kept sheltered and protected until I arrived to look at her. Mayfair took it a step further. There was just something off about her face. It was the work she had done to her face, work that all rich women seemed to have.

  And some of the men too.

  “Mouth like that, Nathaniel? Aren't you even going to tell her to behave? After all the beatings you gave me for not saying the right thing at the right time, and you let her talk like that?"

  “To Mr. Wrightworth,” Nathaniel said. “You told my gardener off, called a maid a cunt, and threw my dog out the window.”

  Obviously, there was a great deal more to their relationship than Nathaniel had originally let on. I turned back to the front of the church ever so slowly.

  Nathaniel and Mayfair bickered back and forth. I all but blocked it out, not wanting to hear people fight.

  “Are you all right?” Mr. Wrightworth asked quietly, shifting closer to me. “Darling?”

  “I'm fine,” I said quietly.

  “No, I don't think you are. Did your parents fight often?”

  “Only recently.”

  “I'd ask about what, but I think I know,” he muttered.

  Clearing his throat loudly, Mr. Wrightworth looked pointedly to the front of the church.

  Nathaniel suddenly straightened, facing forward. He glanced at me, then to Mr. Wrightworth.

  “What? It's not started.”

  “You should be paying more attention to your sub and less to a jealous party,” Mr. Wrightworth said in response, his eyes still on the front of the church.

  His arm was still across the back of the pew. It slid down, pulling me away from Nathaniel as I frowned in confusion. Nathaniel's hand was still on my leg. He shifted with me, leaving me pressed between him and Mr. Wrightworth.

  “Are you two tag-teaming her?” Mayfair asked.

  “Uh oh,” Nathaniel said under his breath.

  “That's one,” Mr. Wrightworth said, keeping his eyes forward. “For the sake of our new member, you get three.”

  “I don't see why I'm a bad person for asking if you two are double penetrating Nathaniel's sub.”

  “Nope, I can't give it three,” Mr. Wrightworth said.

  He stood and hopped over the pew. A man in formal attire hopping over something looks a little awesome and a little weird at the same time.

  Mayfair was up the instant she saw Mr. Wrightworth standing, and tried to run away. He caught her by her hair and yanked her close. Then he sat and pulled her with him. Even as she struggled, Mr. Wrightworth put Mayfair over his knee, forcing her to kneel, and raised his hand.

  The sound of the slap echoed in the half-empty church. It was not just a slap, though. It was nothing like being spanked by Nathaniel. Mr. Wrightworth held absolutely nothing back from the strike.

  Everyone in the church seemed to come to a standstill at the sound of it. They all seemed to suddenly shift away at the terrified sound that fell from Mayfair's lips.

  Four more slaps followed, each accompanied by a small whimper from Mayfair. At five, Mr. Wrightworth yanked her back, again by her hair, and stood as he continued to apply pressure. Mayfair was bent back slightly. Her head pulled to bare her throat as he straightened.

  “Do it again and I will use my belt. You remember how that feels, don't you?” When Mayfair didn't respond, Mr. Wrightworth yanked on her hair. “Don't you?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Good,” Mr. Wrightworth said in the same tone Nathaniel always said the word it.

  It sent a shiver through me.

  “And you,” Mr. Wrightworth said, pointing at me. “You're not supposed to gawk.”

  Terrified that I'd be spanked, I shrank back against Nathaniel.

  “I didn't know,” I squeaked out.

  “I know, which is why you won't receive a similar treatment. This time.”

  A tingle stirred in my belly, but I couldn't tell if it was from fear, or if I found the idea of Mr. Wrightworth bending me over to be arousing.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ezekiel stepped up to the pulpit, clearing his throat as everyone settled down.

  “We are all confirmed members today. There were a few intrusion attempts, so please be aware that it is happening again. We do have a new member today, Darling," at which point he motioned, and the entire church turned towards me.

  I wanted to melt into the pew and just disappear. Suddenly, a church full of people were aware that I was alive and who I was. It didn't seem right to me. It was strange and weird, and the right way to do things. Rather than wait for me to introduce myself—which never would have happened—Ezekiel was a fan of ripping off the bandage, so to speak.

  As it was, Mr. Wrightworth prodded my side when I tried to shrink downward, causing me to jump in spot. A few chuckled at that, then turned back to Ezekiel.

  “So, today we have a treat indeed. A new member, not just new to subbing, but new to the community. Let's all give her a warm welcome, and please, don't poke the sadists.” Ezekiel paused as a few in the crowd chuckled once more.

  “How many sadists are there?” I asked Nathaniel in a whisper, leaning towards him so that I would hear the answer.

  “Darling,” Mr. Wrightworth purred out. “You're sitting between the only two in the whole church labelled as sadists.”

  “And a sadist is the one...?” I whispered, leaning towards Mr. Wrightworth.

  “The one that can't be aroused without causing pain,” Mr. Wrightworth said with the barest of smiles.

  Even then, Nathaniel didn't appear to fit that definition to my ears. The night before had been interesting, but he hadn't caused actual pain. He had pressed the limits of my tolerance, but only barely. The idea that I was between two people worthy of receiving a word of caution made me relax.

  In a church full of people who liked to tie up and spank others, I was seated between the pair who the others were afraid of. These two were predators who stalked predators.

  All of a sudden I felt like I had nothing to worry about. I felt comfortable in my own skin.

  “Just so everyone is fully aware, Mary has passed hands to Nicole. Thompson has been expelled from the community for a minimum of one year. If anyone hears word of him taking on a sub, please report it to someone immediately. He's already attempted to apply for a contract.”

  There was a murmuring throughout the church. Mr. Wrightworth stood, tugging at the jacket of his suit. He slid out past Nathaniel and me, and walked to the front. Several people shouted questions as Ezekiel stepped to the side and gave up the pulpit.

  “Let me just be clear, contracts are still being allowed to those who meet the requirements,” Mr. Wrightworth said, holding up his hands for silence when more people cried out questions. Everyone who had stood to draw attention to their questions sat as he motioned downward. “Thompson was denied
because he didn't pass the basic background check that the Program runs on all applicants.”

  “How did Nathaniel get a blank contract, then?” Mayfair asked from behind me.

  A look came over Mr. Wrightworth's face. Because she was sitting right behind me, I had a moment of fear as the man seemed to glare at me. The rage that played over his features was subtle. What made me cringe in fear was the other something that passed over his face.

  The look a predator had moments before it launched itself on unsuspecting prey.

  “That's three,” he said, jabbing a finger at her.

  “How is that three?” she asked. “It's a good question. You gave an innocent woman to a sadist without telling her what he'd do to her.”

  “That's not true,” I said. “He said I wouldn't be raped, murdered, or tortured. I haven't been.”

  “Depends on your definition of torture,” Nathaniel muttered, crossing his arms.

  It looked to me like an annoyed gesture. Mr. Wrightworth's eyes narrowing, which I could see despite the fact that I was several rows away from him, was an indication that it was not what I thought it was. The pair of them had obviously spent a great deal of time together and were protective of one another, though I had only witnessed Mr. Wrightworth protecting Nathaniel until that point.

  “Contracts are given to those who pass the requirements.”

  “Of bed partner?”

  “Bitch, if you keep talking.”

  It wasn't until the person ahead of me turned to stare with wide eyes that I realized the words had come from my mouth. As I realized that, my head was jerked back by the hair. I ended up staring up at Mayfair. I bared my teeth at the woman in challenge, certain even then that I could damage her pretty features before anyone stopped me.

  “Try it,” I said.

  “Ballsy little brat, doesn't mean you can talk to me like that.”

  “Disrespect me again. I grew up with all brothers. I will win a fight.”

  “Elaina, let her go,” Nathaniel said, still facing forward.

  “She disrespected me,” Mayfair snapped.

  “That's two, don't make me tell you again.”

  My hair was released. I sat up and ran my fingers through it to straighten it out as best I could. Clenching my jaw, I tried not to think about what had just happened.

  “You were in the right. That's why I intervened," Nathaniel said quietly to me, draping an arm over my shoulders. "Though, what I wouldn't pay to see the two of you fight. Heh, it just occurred to me that we can wrestle."

  “Oh, wrestle?” Mr. Wrightworth asked as he slipped past me and took his seat once more. “Can I watch?”

  “Why would you want to watch Darling and me wrestle?” Nathaniel asked.

  “Never mind then, I thought you were going to take up the sport.”

  Ezekiel was at the pulpit once more. He was quiet as everyone watched him. Clearing his throat quietly, he shuffled some papers on the pulpit.

  “We're asking for donations today for the park, looking to put in another bench to mark the end of Emma-Jean's contract. Congratulations, Emma-Jean, on replacing the paper with a ring. When will Sir be back from business?”

  “Next week,” Emma-Jean called out.

  “Good. Uh, just a note, the monthly orgy has been moved to the Sinclair Hotel's penthouse. The price is now five hundred a head, and we do apologize for the change of venue and the upping of the cost, but the normal place is being renovated.

  “All right, time for the fun stuff. Blue bands, raise your hands," Ezekiel raised his right hand as others around the church did the same. "Not too many today. Red bands in the air. Now yellow. And green. And the mixes. Good, founding members, we have a meeting to conduct, as we're all here. Doms to the right, subs to the left. I believe Nicole has volunteered to watch the subs today, yes? Yes, fantastic.

  “After our separate meetings, we will have a public display. This display is Jake and Oberon. We all know how they like to be watched. They will be demonstrating orgasm control, and Oberon will be available afterward to answer questions. I do believe, unless someone has something else to discuss, off we go."

  “Subs!” A woman with raven black hair and startlingly blue eyes stood and raised her right hand, showing off a red band. “Follow me.”

  “That's Nicole,” Nathaniel and Mr. Wrightworth said at the same time.

  “Oh, suppose I should go then,” I murmured.

  I stood and filed along with the other subs. We went into a side room where there were seats and finger foods set up. Everyone immediately filtered off into little groups, coming together with friends. I was left standing by the door awkwardly, not approaching any of the groups.

  Little did I know, they were grouped by what sort of sub they were. The first portion of the sub meetings, they almost always clustered like that. It allowed new members to drift between the groups, as well as discuss topics they felt were specific to their kind of sub or Dom.

  Nicole moved to the seat at the head of the room. She sat in it and watched everyone as the door closed behind us. There was a light music playing that was supposed to be soothing, but I only found it frustrating. Everyone else was engaged in a conversation, and I just stood by the door awkwardly.

  They had said, so long ago, that asking Nicole questions would be a good idea. That she would tell me exactly how it was, and that would be that.

  So I drifted towards her.

  Her blue eyes fell on me, and I stopped, stuck in place until she looked away. I followed her gaze. Everywhere she looked, the subs came to a stop, then began moving again once she turned her attention elsewhere.

  I moved closer, coming almost within arm's reach of her.

  “Yes?” she asked, eyes flitting to across the room.

  “My name is Darling,” I said.

  Nicole turned her full attention to me. “What's your real name?”

  “Isabella Martin,” I said.

  “Ah, yes, you've got good veins,” she said with a small smile. “If you ever need seeing to—broken flesh or the like—you will be brought to see me. And he will end up bringing you to me.”

  “He said I could ask you questions,” I said, finding that my courage was failing me.

  “You don't want to talk with the other subs first?” Nicole asked with a motion towards them.

  I glanced over the room, then shook my head and moved a little away from them. I had never made friends easily. None of the subs were exactly being inviting. Mayfair's young man was off in the corner with several of his friends, whispering to one another and giggling in a way that was all too familiar.

  “What did you want to know?” Nicole asked.

  “...” suddenly I couldn't recall any of my questions.

  The way they had been talking about Nicole, I had expected her to be open and friendly. I thought that I would be able to talk to her and have an actual conversation. She didn't seem all that interested in actually talking to me.

  Nicole looked me over, arching an eyebrow. “Really? I never pictured him as interested in a fixer-upper. Nathaniel doesn't like holding hands.”

  “I'm not a fixer-upper.”

  “Your lack of self-image is pretty evident and all over your face and body language. You're out of your element and, yes, they are talking about you. Especially Michie over in the corner there. That bothers you. You don't like being judged. Why? Mummy and daddy didn't love you enough?”

  “You say good veins, but don't know my file?”

  “No, I took blood,” Nicole said. “What's wrong with you?”

  “I got run over, have a bad hip. Couldn't keep a job.”

  “You're the one Mary was bitching about.”

  “Do I know Mary?”

  “You almost signed the contract with that psycho,” Nicole said. “She was so excited about closing that contract and Mr. Wrightworth slipped right in there and scooped you up.”

  “That was Mary?” I asked. “Wait, do you live down there?”

&n
bsp; “No, she and I live up here. We just fly to where we're needed. And yes, that was Mary. Her, myself, and Mr. Wrightworth work out of the main Program building located just twenty minutes from here. We don't take poor folk in there. We work the intake of contracts, so we do the interviews and medical for the rich folk most of the time."

  “Is she here?” I looked around but didn't spot anyone I recognized.

  “She's tied up at the moment.”

  “What if she's tied up too long?” I asked.

  “She won't be," Nicole said. "When tying for long periods, it's best to use velcro or something of that sort. In this case, she's bound only by the one ankle. She can get out if she needs to, but if she does she will suffer the consequences. For some, a type of tying is putting a collar and leash around their neck and setting the leash on an item. The sub must not move from the spot. Though usually that is used on slaves. It's still pretty nifty, though."

  “What's fisting?” I asked suddenly.

  Because I had just then remembered the term. I still didn't know what it was, and Nathaniel wasn't about to explain because he wasn't interested in that sort of thing. However, being told of a term and then not explained what it meant drove me a little mad.

  I was very curious about new things.

  Nicole stared at me with an open mouth and wide eyes.

  “Mr. Wrightworth said it's a no, and Nathaniel agreed but then Nathaniel said he'd beat me, and I just—I don't get it."

  “Fist,” Nicole raised a closed fist. “Goes somewhere private.”

  I frowned at her fist. As it dawned on me what she meant, I made a little whimpering sound. Then I shook my head. I definitely did not want that to happen to me.

  “That's usually the reaction.”

  “Can I ask about Mr. Wrightworth?” I asked.

  “He's gay.”

  “I know.”

  “We don't talk about his past partners, or what he's done to them. If he shares with you, you need to keep that to yourself.”

  “Well, he did once to explain something, but no. He's Mr. Wrightworth outside and here. Is that normal?”

  “No, I go by my first name, so do Nathaniel and a handful of others. Wrightworth isn't even his original last name. His father made him get an emancipation, so he chose a new last name. He still has the same first name, but you shouldn't ask about it, or try to figure it out. And for the love of God, if you do mistakenly learn it, never say it out loud to anyone here or him.