It was hard to resist Marcello when he displayed such unaccustomed gentleness. “You’re asking me to make a pledge I cannot make,” I said. “You of all people know what I went through with Luke—”
“I’m not—”
I touched my forefinger lightly to his mouth and said, “Please let me finish.”
He nodded and cracked a smile.
“I know you’re not Luke but you know what that relationship did to me. Please just forget about the contract and we can agree on some rules. Since you have Janice, I think I should have a say in whether or not I attend a particular party or event.”
“You’re asking a lot of me.” In the pause that followed I knew he searched for a way around my request. Finally he said, “What if your attendance is required for punishment?”
“Most definitely not. Have you forgotten the ‘party’ that ended everything with Luke? I sometimes wonder if you and Janice have amnesia about that time.”
“I never agreed with his overreaction to the situation and how it all fell apart. I tried to reason with him—”
“I saw you—”
“What do you mean, you saw me?” he broke in.
“I came back to the beach house and watched you fighting with Luke.”
“From where? Out back?”
“I watched for a while until I saw Luke glance outside. I was terrified that he’d seen me and ran all the way back to the motel.”
I could see him revising the memory to accommodate the new information as I recalled how close I had come to going off the deep end during those difficult times. Cut off from Luke with no resources, no money, and no place to go.
He nodded. “Yeah, well, that’s when we argued. I wanted him to search for you, but he refused.”
For a few moments we were both lost in our own worlds of recollection.
“Regardless,” I said, “definitely no parties. I’d like to continue working on getting published but I’m willing to get a job as well. I’ve been contemplating a safe word and I think ‘finito Marcello’ will work perfectly. No say regarding what or when I eat, no electricity, and no fucking my throat. Janice has me sufficiently frightened of that. Most definitely no gags; they scare me.”
He lunged forward, pinning me to the bed. “Let me think about it,” he said with a wicked grin. “I’ll let you know tomorrow if I can live with that. In the meantime … Does this mean the bondage and discipline can commence?” He drew my arms above my head and spread my legs, restraining my body with his weight. He rubbed his clothed hard cock against my pussy.
“Will you agree to my terms?” I asked. I squirmed beneath him, trying to hold my ground in my current predicament—as if that was even possible against his large body.
“Tomorrow, but don’t think that will keep me from having my way with you now.” He let go of my wrists, cradled my face in his hands and began to devour me with his mouth. I tasted scotch, garlic, and his own personal essence that dragged me deeper into the kiss. His shaft expanded between us as he savored my lips.
Prior to my descent into the world of domination and discipline, kissing was always a quick corridor to other things sexual. First Luke and then Marcello used kisses as a means of possession. Their kisses captured my sense of reason and locked it in the basement, leaving me too dizzy to keep up the walls of self-protection. Luke had opened the door to an ecstasy that left me craving a hard, controlling touch. He mixed pain and pleasure in a way that elevated my ultimate release. Marcello kept the little girl in me safe while he summoned the wanton and brazen vixen in the throes of sensual desire.
Marcello continued probing my mouth with his tongue, dueling with the intent of winning. Finally he released me, allowing me a short respite to catch my breath. Moving onto his knees, he said, “Stay right there.” He climbed off the bed and as he removed his clothing he warned, “Once our agreement is final, you will pay for making me wait so long.”
Instead of spurring anger in me, his comment made my nipples harden and my pussy pulse.
He mounted the bed and faced me. “No other woman I have known has always been so wet and ready.”
My cheeks grew hot, and even after all I had been through, I was still embarrassed by his words. Like never before, he reminded me of how the twisted nature of my new chosen lifestyle elicited my bodily responses.
He leaned over to taste me. Everything about him felt big, including the hands that cupped my ass and the tongue that lavished my clit. My hips squirmed out of my control as my moans rolled out of me, unbidden. Without warning, he placed me where he wanted me to go. Lifting my legs over his spread thighs, he guided my pussy up and onto his erect manhood. I slid down over his large phallus, feeling overly stretched and full as I wrapped my legs around his lean waist. I lifted my head up so I could see him shifting in and out of me. I gazed past his hairy chest to his intense sable eyes, understanding that he loved me but needed to possess me more.
The angle of my buttocks on his lap left the ridge of his cock rubbing against my G-spot—evidently that had been his wicked intention. “Oh my god, I’ve never done it this way, oh, oh,” I mumbled.
“È buono, it’s good, right?”
“Mmmhmm,” I groaned.
“Tug hard on your nipple rings now … harder!”
I complied, although it still made me uncomfortable to caress myself while being observed. Luke never managed to get me over that. With my sensibilities as warped as they were, embarrassment only heightened my excitement.
Marcello reached between us and began swirling his fingers around my protruding bud.
I laid my head back down while the intensity of sensation became overwhelming. Relieved from the usual demands to maintain eye contact, I lost myself in all the different miracles eddying rapidly around me. The tweaking of my nipples increased the force of flow spinning from my head to my cunt. Marcello’s long thick dick stroked my insides, causing me to mutter and groan as his energy penetrated my core. His fingers mastered my clit, keeping me on edge.
No longer drawing at my nipples, I used my hands as leverage to help thrash my lower body against his cock. My upper back stayed on the bed while the arch of my hips crushed against his lap. My smooth thighs clamped around his muscular sides and I peered up again, following the trail of dark black hair from his belly button down to the erection pounding into me. I wanted more … needed more. I propped myself up onto my hands, thrusting my pelvis against him.
“Oh Jesus, Jane,” Marcello grunted out.
Finally glancing up again, overcome with lust and craving, I locked eyes with him and saw the subtle nod. The blessed cyclone touched down starting at my clit and then ripping out from my core to my outer limbs. My eyes rolled back into my head as I pleaded, “Oh god, oh god, oh god, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
“No way, Jane,” he said, releasing his cum and power into me.
I collapsed onto my back, still locked onto his cock. I didn’t want to move as the windstorm continued to rush through my body.
As the tempest passed, calmness enveloped me. I no longer cared how we’d resolve our standoff or what would come tomorrow. I heard Marcello whisper, “amore mio,” as I floated from the bliss of our lovemaking into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER TWO
The following morning Janice came to my room. “You’ve been summoned to breakfast.”
“Oh? I guess he’s made up his mind?”
“Don’t expect it to be easy,” she said, gently touching my shoulder.
“Duly noted,” I said as I rummaged through a drawer for something to wear.
“You won’t be needing any clothes. Freshen up as fast as you can. He’s waiting for you.”
I turned on the shower and stepped in, no longer under the spell of last night’s activities. My gut twisted, and not only from hunger. Dealing with Marcello had never been easy, and although we both wanted the negotiations over with, I intuitively felt I’d be the one doing most of the compromising. The control I had maint
ained over the past few months had expired, and the prospect of how it would all resolve left me feeling jittery, as if I had consumed too much caffeine.
When I entered the dining room, Marcello was sitting in his customary spot at the far end of the table. His sheer size intimidated people, but the penetrating stare of his charcoal eyes scared me the most. From a distance, it proved difficult to tell his iris from the pupil. He stood, fully dressed in black slacks and a blue dress shirt, and lifted the deep purple silk robe I’d worn once before during my first brief stay with him.
Luke and I were already married by then. He sent me off to Marcello as punishment for my rebellion, my jealousy, and curiosity, which led me to snoop in his office. An infraction I perpetrated early on in our relationship which he discovered later.
I remembered the contradiction of emotions that permeated my life. Loving the good times—the luxury of our days, the passionate lovemaking, the moments of exquisite tenderness—but always fearing the next punishment, the next boundary Luke would push me past. Although the next whipping would ultimately lead to my pleasure, I lived in fear of disappointing him. Unlike others in the lifestyle, Luke had no respect for safe words. I had one—“get lost creep,” which had made me laugh at the time—but he had made it abundantly clear that if I ever used it, I would be ousted from his life forever. Marcello had been waiting for that eventual opportunity as he waited now.
He held the robe open for me.
I stepped into the silky fabric and Marcello wrapped it around me, leaning into my neck as he tied the sash around my waist. “Good morning,” I said over my shoulder as he inclined his head to capture my lips. Although I felt anxious to have the situation resolved, I allowed myself to spin into his arms and dissolve into his kisses.
“Yes it is,” he said as we broke apart and he pulled out the chair catty-corner to his at the end of the table.
As I sat down, two women in pressed uniforms brought in breakfast.
“Coffee?” Marcello asked, as he poured a cup for himself.
“I think I’ll pass on that, thanks,” I said. I piled pancakes, eggs, bacon, and potatoes on my plate and ate with gusto.
Marcello poured me a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice and I drank that down as well.
I glanced over at him several times, expecting him to start the negotiations, but he just sipped his coffee. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?” I asked, wiping my mouth on the cloth napkin.
“I’m not much of a breakfast person, especially while business is still pending.”
“Well, I sure am. Don’t you know it’s the most important meal of the day?” I ignored the part of his comment about business.
“So they say,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.
“What do you say?”
“I say it’s time for you to sign the contract.”
“I still don’t see the need for one. Did you at least make the changes we discussed?”
“Have a look,” he said as reached down beside him into the briefcase I hadn’t previously noticed. He handed me a two-page document.
Contract of Sexual Servitude
This contract dated the 4th of October, 2012, is the complete and whole agreement between Marcello Ricci (hereinafter referred to as “Dom,”) and Jane Jessica Stiles, (hereinafter referred to as “sub.”) The term of this agreement will begin on the 4th of October, 2012, and will remain in effect for a period of six months ending on the 4th of April, 2013 at which time this contract will be renegotiated for the duration of two years.
The Dom accepts responsibility for the sub’s body, wellbeing, pleasure, and discipline as He sees fit under the provisions of this document.
The sub agrees to submit to the Dom within the limits specified below. She agrees that upon signing this contract that her body belongs to the Dom to be used as He sees fit under the guidelines below. The sub agrees to strive to please the Dom to the best of her ability at all times.
This agreement is based on the sub willingly submitting to the Dom with the following provisos:
The Dom agrees to:
Keep the sub safe at all times
Maintain honest and open communication
Pay sub’s expenses for the duration of this agreement so that she may pursue publishing of her writings or find a job of her choosing
Train, mold, instruct, and educate sub to be the best possible submissive
Stretch sub’s limits to grow in her role as a submissive
Have control over sub’s wardrobe
Honor the spoken safe words ‘finito Marcello’ and cease all activities immediately
Respect all hard limits of sub as follows: no minors, no animals, no scat, no gags, no deep throat penetration, no electrosex, no moderation of food, no participation in parties without sub’s consent
Be present for any sex or discipline administered by others to ensure sub’s safety, with the exception of Janice
Encourage sub to be in touch with friends and family
Read sub’s writings and provide valuable feedback
Consider sub’s impressions and concerns when adding a new person to the household
The sub agrees to:
Refer to Dom as “Sir” during sex and discipline and around other people in the lifestyle
Maintain honest and open communication
Maintain body by regular exercise, bathing, and all other routine body care including maintaining clean shaven genitalia, legs, and arm pits
Show respect to Dom at all times and obey his commands in a timely manner
Refrain from use of profanity except where appropriate in her writings
Refrain from contacting past lovers or Doms without express permission from Dom
Refrain from wearing underwear unless necessary while with Dom
Sleep naked
Be available to Dom at all times, with or without notice
Refrain from sexual contact, including with self, at all times without permission from Dom
Refrain from achieving orgasm without permission from Dom
Service anyone the Dom chooses
Accept any punishment whether earned or not
Count each strike when disciplined
Refrain from using safe word except in cases of dire distress
Strive to overcome feelings of shame and inhibitions that limit the capacity of sub to serve Dom
Accept any permanent mark that the Dom desires
Use personal time to get published or get a job and continue to journal personal experiences
All bondage, discipline and sex practices are at the sole discretion of the Dom.
Signed:
The signature lines were provided below.
I read through the contract quickly the first time. My pulse raced and my face burned. Glancing in his direction as I read, I saw him raise a questioning eyebrow.
“Is this the same contract you used with Janice?” I asked.
“No.”
“I want to see Janice’s contract.”
“That will not happen, Jane. That contract is between Janice and me.”
“Fine,” I said, and then scanned the paper. I slowly read it through for the second time.
He had honored all of my hard limits but only for six months and added several items we had never discussed.
Reviewing the paper again, I understood that it simply bought each of us more time. The same conflict would rise up again in a few months, but I felt with some tweaking I’d be inclined to sign so I could further pursue getting published and, meanwhile, continue my currently very pleasurable relationship with Marcello.
“Let’s start at the top of my list. Calling you ‘Sir’? You never had me call you ‘Sir’ before. I don’t recall hearing Janice call you that either. Why?”
“It will help you acclimate.”
“What the hell … um … I mean heck does that mean?”
“It means that I feel Luke orchestrated your first foray into BDSM the wrong way, a
nd I plan to rectify that mistake.”
“Oh, Marcello …”
“Are we really going to debate that rule?”
“No, I guess not. Is it necessary for you to have control over my wardrobe?”
“Yes it is, and that’s mostly for when we go out and other special occasions.”
“I see.” Reading down the page, I wondered to myself whether Janice had the same number five clause in her contract: not to contact past lovers or Doms without express permission from Marcello. Certain it wouldn’t be an issue for me, I moved on. “Number sixteen is ridiculous. I have no control over my shame or what embarrasses me.”
“I beg to differ with you. That is something you can work on and I will help you with it.”
“That’s what I was afraid you might say.”
Leaning forward, he took my face in his hands and kissed me, seizing my mouth with his full lips. He sucked on my bottom lip, nibbling just slightly until I was close to giving in. “I have my ways,” he said, releasing me.
“No doubt,” I said, trying to clear the haze of lust that threatened to block all access to my common sense. “Enough of that.” I twisted away and sat farther back in my chair. “Number seventeen is a deal breaker. I am not going to let you mark me with brands or tattoos.”
“I thought you might say that. If you agree that it will be on our next contract, I will happily remove it.”
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