“ ‘You (the submissive) agree for your body to be available to him any time of the day and in any way he demands, which includes partaking in the act of sexual favors, as well as serving as decoration during social functions.’ ”
Decoration? Is he going to hang me around his neck like a scarf and show me off? And what was this about sexual favors?
“ ‘The Dominant will take full responsibility for the health and well-being of the submissive, and although there will be forcible punishment for acting out and/or for not following the rules, the Dominant will never leave a permanent mark or punish the submissive in a way that may require any outside treatment. Instances that may require punishment include:
Failure to address the Dominant as “Sir”.
Failure to adequately perform duties the Dominant assigns.
Failure to live up to the standards of manner and decorum as required by the Dominant.
Refusal or reluctance to partake in any activities the Dominant requests.
At any other point or time the Dominant deems necessary.’ ”
Punishment? All right, perhaps this was getting a bit weird. Why should I let someone punish me for not living up to their standards? And what did “punishment” actually mean? Was he going to whip me? Or chain me up and leave me in a dungeon? I was almost positive that a house like this had some secret underground lair. I looked under my feet. Or maybe a trap door...
He continued. “ ‘This contract lasts for the duration of three months from the date signed, at which point there can be discussion of whether or not to terminate the contract or renew it. At any time the Dominant fails his duty to protect the submissive’s physical or mental health, or the submissive decides she no longer wants to abide by these terms, the contract may be terminated, but this is seen as a last resort.’ ”
He pointed to a line right below the blocks of letters. “If you agree to these terms, then you can sign your name below. Or, in your case, you can mark it with an ‘X’.” He made the symbol for an “X” in the air with his finger, to make sure I understood. I gave him a hesitant smile.
“I am told that you are free to rest for the night, but please have your decision made by tomorrow morning. Mr. Draper does not like to wait.” The man made for the door.
“Wait,” I said. “What’s your name?”
“Oscar,” he told me kindly.
After Oscar left, I stared down at the contract. Some of the wording he used was a bit confusing, but I was able to make out most of what it meant. What burned in my mind was the part about giving my body readily to Victor. The thought made me a bit uncomfortable, but the contract did say that one of his duties was to look after my well-being. That was a little reassuring, as was the fact that I could walk away from it all in a moment’s notice.
I sighed. It all really didn’t seem too bad. Different, yes, but it all seemed like a small price to pay to live in a huge, warm, house and eat what I expect to be delicious and comforting foods. Did I really want to go back to being homeless? Even if I did take that bus ticket, who’s to say I would be any better than I was before? I picked up the pen and wrote a big “X” as my signature. There, it was signed. Now I was ready to see what fate had in store for me.
Chapter Three
A sudden knock on the door woke me from a blissful, deep sleep. Moaning, I rolled to my side and opened my eyes slowly. A smile formed on my lips as I realized I wasn’t waking up in some smelly alley in the middle of the city; I was lying in a luxurious, comfortable bed, under the roof of a mansion. Outside I heard birds singing to each other, and the faint sound of a horse nickering. When was the last time I had felt so peaceful upon waking?
Oscar opened the door, and noticing that I was awake and staring at him silently, he walked in, carrying a hanger that held a white blouse and charcoal-colored skirt. He placed them at the end of the bed and quietly picked up the signed contract from the desk, studying it for a moment.
“The kitchen is downstairs, straight through the foyer and to the right. There will be some breakfast waiting for you. The maid will then tell you where to start working.” He gave me a small smile before leaving as quietly as he came, shutting the door softly behind him.
Excited to actually be able to do something productive rather than being pushed here and there by a bunch of strangers, I pushed the blankets off and studied the clothes Oscar left for me. Although I seriously lacked fashion knowledge, I knew the clothes had to be designer. I took my white slip off and began taking the blouse off the hanger when I realized I didn’t have a bra to wear with it. Frowning down at the fullness of my small, perky breasts, I knew that I wouldn’t look as sophisticated if I wore the blouse without one. I imagined the smartly dressed business women I would see in the Financial District walking to and from work with an air of confidence surrounding them. Whoever Victor was, I wanted to do my best to look as professional as possible in front of him. Right now, I was a businesswoman as well.
I thought I had no other choice but to make an embarrassing call to Oscar for him to get me a bra when I finally remembered the large, mahogany armoire next to my bed. Opening one of the two drawers underneath the cupboards I found ten neatly folded panties on one side, and a selection of bras in matching colors on the other. I decided to wear white. I wasn’t expecting them to fit me at first, but as I slipped my legs through the panties and hooked the bra in place, I knew it was an exact fit. Of course, the women at that Victorian building had measured me from head to toe. Now I knew why.
I rushed to button up the blouse and zip up the charcoal, knee-length skirt so I could admire myself in the full length mirror next to the vanity. Holy hell, I looked so much different from the girl who had been taken off the streets just yesterday. I marveled at how clean my slightly tanned skin was, how my honey-colored hair hung in waves all the way down to my waist. Perhaps I might even be considered pretty. My large, dark eyes took in the narrow slope of my skinny shoulders and my slender legs. I suppose having a meal three times a day will change my malnourished body soon enough. Thoughts could not even describe how thankful I was for that. I found myself grinning as I brushed out my long hair with a comb I found on top of the vanity. A pair of small pumps had been placed next to the door. I put them on my feet and walked around gingerly. It was my first time wearing heels and I was frightened that I would fall flat on my face.
The entire house was completely quiet as I made my way to the kitchen. I had a strange feeling that I was trespassing on someone else’s property, so I decided to tiptoe down the stairs, not wanting to make a sound and disturb anyone. The kitchen door was wide open and I was relieved to find two older women in the room; one was hovering next to a giant stove, and the other was mopping the floor. They both noticed me when I came in and stopped what they were doing immediately.
“Oh, you’re the new girl!” The woman with the mop exclaimed. She had graying brown hair and pretty green eyes. “Take a seat; we’re just about to have breakfast before we start working. Betty, the new maid is here!”
The heavyset woman by the stove had stark white hair and a kind face. “Wow, aren’t you a cutie,” she said, making me blush. “I’m Betty, the cook, and that’s Karen. We’re glad to have you on board. Breakfast will be ready in a sec.”
I was still not used to being treated so kindly, and with a shy smile I took a seat at a small, wooden table in the center of the kitchen. The cook, Betty, handed me a plate of sizzling bacon, eggs, and a slice of toast. “Hope you’re hungry!” she said as my mouth began to water. “I have enough for seconds.”
“Thanks so much,” I said and dived right in, forgoing the set of cutlery in front of me as I picked the bacon up with my hands and chomped down on it greedily. Betty and Karen laughed as they joined me with their food.
“I’m sure Mr. Draper is going to change that bit about your manners,” Betty told me, her voice still kind.
I looked up at them, embarrassed. “I guess I’ve picked up some bad habits,” I said as I wiped my g
reasy fingers on the napkin next to my plate.
Betty waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t worry about it now. When you’re with us, just eat however you want. Enjoy your food.”
After the first few bites of the delicious breakfast, the women began chatting. “Have you met Mr. Draper yet?” Karen asked me. She gave me a look that confused me, like I was supposed to know something I didn’t. Did they know about the contract as well?
“Not yet,” I replied staring down at my food. I thought about the power exchange relationship I had signed for. “He sounds kind of scary, to be honest.”
The women both chuckled and looked at each other with knowing glances. “We’ve both worked for Mr. Draper’s family since he was very young,” Betty told me. “So I suppose we’re a bit partial to him.”
“Who is he exactly?”
“He is the owner of Draper LNG. It’s an oil and gas shipping company. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”
I looked at them blankly. “I don’t think so...”
“Mr. Draper took over from his father a few years ago and has grown the business tremendously since then, which in turn has made him one of the more important people in today’s business world.”
I furrowed my brow. This talk was opening a new sphere of knowledge for me. I wanted to know more, but I was suddenly ushered out of the room by Karen, as Betty started to clear the plates.
“I’ll show you where you’ll be working this morning,” said Karen. She led me out of the kitchen and back towards the entrance of the mansion. We turned to an open room on the side of the foyer. “This is the parlor.”
A chandelier hung down the room, illuminating a small wooden table that held a stainless steel tea set, surrounded by red cushioned chairs. A fireplace sat on the far side with candelabras perched on both ends. It was an ornate room that seemed untouched, like no one ever used it, as though it were all just for show. All of the decorations and the fancy furnishings seemed like a waste to me if no one ever came in to enjoy it.
“Today you’ll mop the floor in here and dust absolutely everything that you see.” She handed me a feather duster and pointed to a mop and bucket leaning against one corner of the room. “Mr. Draper will come by after you’re done to make sure not one fleck of dust is overlooked, so be as thorough as possible.” I must’ve given her a worried look. She walked over to me and patted my shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll be upstairs, so come get me if you need anything.”
I started mopping the hardwood floors, easily losing myself to daydreams while I worked. Cleaning was kind of relaxing and I was happy to be doing something. I got so caught up in it that I almost forgot about the other part of my job—the sexual part of it—but it still lingered in the back of my mind. When I finished pushing the mop around every inch of the parlor, I took the feather duster and swiped it around everything in sight. A cloud must have moved passed the sun because a sudden burst of light shone through the windows into the room. I stopped what I was doing for a moment to peer outside. The lawn below shone an emerald green under the morning sun, and the horses behind the white fences sat in the fields, basking in what little warmth the winter had given them.
I quickly remembered my task at hand and continued dusting the parlor. I walked past a table and jabbed my hip painfully on the sharp edge. “Shit!” I hissed, rubbing the sore spot.
Footsteps came to a sudden halt just outside the parlor. Thinking it was Karen, I glanced up sheepishly only to find a man standing at the doorway. A wave of embarrassment warmed my entire body at the sight of him, and I felt my cheeks turn red. He was incredibly handsome, wearing a fitted black suit with a white shirt. The top of his shirt was still unbuttoned, and he had a tie hanging loosely around his neck, as though he were in the middle of putting it on. He looked like one of those models on advertisements next to department stores I used to camp out in front of during the night.
No, he was more handsome than that. He had stunning blue eyes, like the color of the stormy sky outside the window this morning—a bluish-gray. His mouth was set in a stern line, and was framed by neatly trimmed stubble around his square jaw. Despite the severity of his gaze, I could sense a bit of softness on his lips and his eyes that he did well to push away.
I suddenly felt the warmth of the sun fade away from the windows, causing the room to darken as it hid back behind another cloud.
“I don’t appreciate that kind of language in this house,” the man told me. His voice was cold, causing me to shiver in alarm. Was he angry with me?
He entered the parlor, and I realized I was backing up slowly as he approached. My heart started to beat faster and faster as he neared. I winced as my body hit the side of the table. Now there was no escape. “I’m so sorry,” I mumbled to the man. As he came near I caught a whiff of the same expensive cologne I smelled on the leather jacket last night. Of course, this must be Victor Draper. Nervous, and not really knowing what to do, I offered him my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I began, but immediately stopped short. Victor gave me a dark look and I knew I must be doing something wrong. My heart fluttered erratically, and I felt my breath come in short spurts, causing me to feel dizzy. I remembered the contract, and how I was supposed to address him. “Sir...” I added, hoping it wouldn’t be too late.
Victor ran his hand through his stylishly messy dark blond hair and frowned down at me. “Turn around and bend over.”
I dropped my hand. “What?” I exclaimed, making no move to do as he asked me. He then grabbed me by my waist and turned me around, pushing me down so I was bent over the table. I tried resisting, only having his fingers dig deeper into my skin. My elbows dug uncomfortably in the wood as I stared down at it. By now my heart was pounding loudly in my chest and in my ears, and I started to panic as his hands pushed my gray skirt up over my hips, revealing my bare legs and white panties. Oh God, he was going to have sex with me here and now. Was I even ready for this? I glanced over at the door. I felt the urge to escape, but I knew that was useless considering the tight grip he had on me.
I felt a stinging blow to my ass and I realized he spanked me. Time seemed to slow down as my eyes widened with shock and I slowly turned my head to stare at him. I started to form a question, but stopped at the sight of his stony glare.
“Turn back around,” he ordered.
As I did, he spanked me again. I let out a small yelp, and was confused by the sudden burst of arousal forming in my body while I had my ass was exposed to him and to the rest of the household if they were to walk by. My mind struggled to understand the unfamiliar mixture of pain, humiliation, and desire. Was something this painful supposed to feel good?
“Keep count,” he told me gruffly.
“Two,” I whispered. Tears formed in my eyes from the stinging. “Three.” The force of his blows sent my body forward, causing the edge of the table to dig uncomfortably into my stomach. By the time I counted to ten he stopped, letting me straighten back up. I let out a gasp of air I didn’t know I was holding in. I started to turn around and stopped. I had to be very careful around this man, which meant I would need to choose my words carefully. “May I turn around, Sir?” I asked him, hoping those were the right words to use.
“You may.”
I relaxed. My body was on fire from the spanking, and all I could think about was how I had disappointed him. Was he still angry with me for cursing? Will I get kicked out and have to go back to living on the streets? The thought of being cold and hungry again made me frightened. If I had any chance of living here, I had to apologize to him. “I’m so sorry about what I said,” I told him. “If there’s any way I can make it up to you...”
Victor simply looked down. Puzzled, I followed his gaze only to find a bulging erection pressed against the front of his pants. My body stirred in response. I hesitated for a moment before kneeling down in front of him. I forced my hands not to shake as I unzipped his pants. His cock sprang from the opening. It was big and hard as I took it into my hands before d
irecting it into my mouth. My heart began beating erratically as I moved my mouth up and down his shaft. I had never done anything like this before, and I honestly wasn’t sure if I was doing any of it right. However, it must have felt good to him. Victor moaned softly as he pressed his hand on the back of my head, pushing me to go deeper and deeper.
“Look at me,” he demanded. I obliged, staring up at his peculiar stormy blue eyes. I flicked my tongue around the smooth tip of his cock as he looked back down at me. His gaze was devoid of any warmth. His grip on my head became tighter as he wrapped his fingers around my hair before he pulled me away from him. He then picked me up and set me roughly on the edge of the table, knocking the tea set away with a loud clatter. My legs trembled as his hands glided up them to pull down my small, white panties. He dropped them on the floor. “Already wet for me?” he muttered as he pried my legs wide apart and brushed the tip of his cock against my asshole.
Panic gripped me. “Please, not there!” I begged him, feeling a combination of absolute mortification and arousal from him touching me in such a private place.
“Tell me where you want me to put it,” he said to me, his voice icy.
I did want it; that was the surprising realization that swept over me. I wanted his cock inside me.
“F-fuck me in my pussy,” I stuttered, and squeezed my eyes shut as I waited for his move.
I gasped as his cock filled my body. He reached underneath my blouse to grasp my breasts as he pounded me over and over. I had to grip the edge of the table to keep from falling off and hitting the hardwood floor.
“I told you that kind of language isn’t appropriate in this house,” he hissed at me.
A fire raged through my body, and with every thrust of his cock deeper into my pussy I felt more and more the intense urgency for a release. It wasn’t long, however, before he came inside me. His breath was hot against my neck as he paused for a moment before sliding out of me. When I raised my head slightly off the table to look at him, he was already zipped up and on his way out the door. He paused at the doorway. Without turning around he said, “You need to be careful about denying me. I don’t like to be told no.”
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