The Abduction Agreement (Mistress May I Book 1)

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The Abduction Agreement (Mistress May I Book 1) Page 8

by Krieger, D. F.


  As she spoke, I busied myself checking almost every box with the red pen. When I hit sensation play, I hovered over it, remembering the demo she gave. Caving, I switched pens and checked it with a black mark. Once I was finished, I placed the paper on the desk.

  Delilah picked it up, scanned it, then set it down firmly. “What is this? Did you switch the colors?”

  “No.” I met her gaze head on.

  She arched an eyebrow at me. “You do realize you checked everything red, right?”

  “Mmhmm.” I nodded.

  The seconds ticked by as we stared at each other. Kyle shifted in his seat, but didn’t speak either.

  “I heard you had some control issues. I’m beginning to think there’s truth to the rumor. Perhaps the goal of our time together will have more meaning than I initially expected.” She tore the paper in half in a single, fluid motion. “We’re at an impasse, Paige. I’m going to offer two options in hopes of reaching a solution. Choice one, you will sign a contract with me that says I’m allowed to be your Domme and you my service sub, and that I can use whatever means necessary within safe and sane reason. Or—”

  “What about the consensual rule?” I asked, interrupting her.

  “You signature is your consent,” she answered. “Or...if you do not agree to these terms, I can admit my deception to Bryce and inform him he was, in fact, the highest bidder. It’s an appealing option. It does, after all, allow myself and Kyle to keep our money.”

  My stomach performed flip flops as I stared at her, open mouthed. “That’s dirty,” I finally managed to say.

  “So is coming into the role of sub with no intention of submitting. I’m not as unaware as you seem to think. Checking off everything on the factor list is your way of controlling the situation. I can’t dominate you if I’m not allowed to push you; isn’t that right?”

  I fidget with the hem of the plaid skirt as I averted my gaze.

  “What will it be, Paige?” Her voice seemed to purr my name.

  I turned to Kyle, but instead of finding an ally there, I found a businessman. “You did sign the submission contract when you decided to enter the auction. It’s not fair to any of us if you did so with the expectations to deceive. As it is, I’ll attribute your temperament to nervousness and we’ll move along.”

  “I...” My tongue darted out to lick my lips. It felt like sand coated the inside of my mouth. “I’ll sign the contract.”

  “Under the terms of any means necessary and that I deem fit?” Delilah asked.

  I hung my head in defeat. “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Yes, Mistress,” she corrected, her tone gentle.

  “Yes, Mistress,” I echoed.

  Kyle wrote something down on the paper in front of him, the pushed it across the desk to me. I took it and looked it over. It was a contract for both Delilah and myself to sign. It outlined that she would respect my factor list, and would provide adequate after care. In the event I was a service sub, she agreed to provide food, shelter, emotional care, and mental care outside of the club. The contract also broke down how much I would owe at various intervals if I backed out for a valid reason. At the end, in a special section, there was a single sentence that seemed to jump off the paper.

  Sub consents to Dom using any and all means at Dom’s disposal under the duration of this contract.

  I picked up the pen, hesitated, glanced at Delilah, then signed my name. My hand shook as I slid the contract to her.

  She signed, then put it back on the desk. As if bored by the whole thing, Delilah waved a hand at me like she was dismissing me. “Go home and get some rest, Paige. You’ll need all of your energy tomorrow.”

  I raised an eyebrow but stood. “Yes, Mistress.”

  I didn’t speak to anyone as I left the room. Didn’t respond to Brandi calling my name as I exited the club. I went straight to my car, got in, and drove to the guest house on mental autopilot. The whole time, one phrase repeated over and over in my head.

  What have I done?

  Chapter nine

  The loud crash followed by a whispered, “Fuck,” jerked me awake. My heart instantly began to pound and I held my breath, trying to locate the intruder. Strong arms wrapped around me, pinning my own to my sides. Before I could do more than let out a terrified squeal, something cloth encased my head.

  I kicked and flailed in a desperate attempt to free myself. All of my senses, all of my instincts, screamed out in panic. “Get the fuck off me! Help!”

  “Hush and you’ll be fine,” a male voice growled out.

  The knowledge that my attacker was a man only scared me more. I twisted around and kept screaming. My arms were wrenched behind my back, and the cool metal of what could only be handcuffs encased my wrists. The arms went around me again, holding me upright with my side against someone’s chest.

  “Collar the bag around her neck so it doesn’t come off,” the male voice instructed.

  There’s two people! I prayed for Brandi and Keith to hear, especially since I knew Brandi was a light sleeper. I screamed and screamed, and my assailants did nothing to silence me. They just ignored me as one cinched the collar mentioned on me.

  Vertigo sickened my stomach as I was hoisted into the air and landed on a shoulder. The world swayed and I realized he was walking. I kicked and squirmed, but the man simply put an arm over the backs of my knees, hugging them to his chest while his other arm circled over the small of my back.

  My shoulders screamed in protest from the angle of my arms, and just when I thought I would cave to insanity, the swaying stopped. I heard the sound of a vehicle door opening, then I was dumped unceremoniously onto what felt like the back seat of a car. The door slammed, sealing me in and I brought my knees up and tried to remove the bag by rubbing my head against them. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I was grateful I’d wore sweatpants and a shirt tonight as pajamas instead of a gown or sleeping nude.

  Someone climbed into the front of the car and started it up. “Please,” I begged. “Let me go. I don’t know what you want, but let me go.”

  Silence met me. To keep myself from fearing the worst, I tried to figure out who would want to kidnap me.

  Bryce.

  It had to be him. The whole thing made sense. He didn’t win at the auction, and he hit me as the type who didn’t take well to losing...at all. Since there were two people, it was likely him and Teresa.

  Puzzling it out helped me gain a grasp on my emotions. I sat in the back silently, and didn’t waste energy trying to escape anymore. The bag wasn’t coming off, and neither were the cuffs. Bryce would have to free me at some point, and when he did, I’d break his nose. Once I’d finished that, I’d break Teresa’s too, for good measure.

  Plotting revenge helped even more, so by the time the car pulled to a stop, I waited in a completely calm state. I was in control here. They just didn’t know it yet.

  The driver exited, then I could hear a door being opened and the kidnapper grabbed my ankles, sliding my across the seat. Once more, I was thrown up on his shoulder. The bag over my head blocked almost everything, but it didn’t block the sound of a knock.

  Why did he knock?

  A door opened and hushed voices reached me. The swaying started up again, indicating we were walking once more. Soon, we entered a room so bright I could see the light, but still couldn’t make out any shapes. I squinted as it burned my eyes a little. They must have adjusted to the absolute darkness of the bag. It was also finally starting to get hard to breathe, and I hung my mouth open, trying to get a lungful of air.

  “Where do you want her?” the man holding me asked.

  Wait... Why is he asking for directions? That wasn’t Bryce’s voice, either.

  Maybe Bryce hired some goon to grab me so in the end, if the kidnapping was seen, he wouldn’t be identified. That rationale made sense. He probably wouldn’t like getting his hands dirty, but had no qualms with shady deeds.

  I was set down on what felt like a sturdy wooden c
hair. The handcuffs around my wrists released, and my hands were brought up onto the armrests of the chair and strapped with some kind of softer material. The tension in my shoulders abated a great deal, but the ache in my joints remained.

  “Close your eyes and I will take the bag off,” a familiar feminine voice said.

  “Close my eyes? Why? Who are you?”

  “Do it or don’t. This is one of the few choices you’ll be allowed to make from now on. If you prefer the bag, keep it,” she responded.

  Recognition flooded me, and my relief temporarily doused my anger. “Delilah? What is going on?”

  “Mistress... Bag on or off, Paige?” she asked, impatience coloring her voice.

  “Off!” I snarled the words, hoping she’d catch my answering irritation. “Now answer me!”

  A loud crack filled the room near me and I yelped in surprise. Nothing touched me, and yet my skin crawled as I anticipated contact. The sound reminded me very much of a whip, or riding crop. Something that would make a whole lot of ouch if hit against me hard enough to create that noise.

  “You are not in control here. Now close your eyes. When you have done so, keep them closed. There will be consequences if you disobey and open them.”

  “What consequences?” I licked my lips as I debated whether to lie and say they were closed.

  The crack sounded nearby again and I jumped. The whole thing made me edgy.

  “Please stop doing that,” I said, my words coming out on a whimper.

  Fingers trailed along the back of my hand, up my arm, then swirled gently across my breasts. Even through the shirt, I could feel the enticing touch. My nipples pebbled at the attention, despite my dislike of the circumstances.

  “Thank you for asking nicely instead of demanding,” Delilah praised. “Are your eyes closed?”

  I shut them tightly before responding, “Yes.”

  Sensation flooded my neck as the collar released from me, and slowly, ever so slowly, the bag was pulled off my head. The light seemed a thousand times brighter, and I winced. Rustling sounded behind me, then a soft fabric touched my face. I jerked back and my eyes flew open in time to see a red material descend upon my eyes. She quickly tied it in place.

  “You said—”

  “I said I would remove the bag,” Delilah interrupted. “I never said I wouldn’t keep your eyes covered. I removed the bag so you can breathe better, and so I can see the expressions on your lovely face. So I can touch”—her lips feathered across mine—“your gorgeous mouth.”

  “Please tell me what is going on. Why did you have me kidnapped? Is this a form of BDSM play too?”

  “It can be. There are people who fantasize about being taken by strangers in the night. That isn’t what I’m doing here. I promise I will explain later. For now, I have a question of my own. Think very carefully before you answer this.” She waited for a few minutes, and the silence seemed deafening. “What happened to you?”

  I frowned, uncertain what she wanted. “Do you mean tonight or...what?”

  “No one has such an extreme desire for control unless something happened to them or they are suffering from OCD. You don’t fit an OCD profile... So what happened to you?”

  “Nothing,” I replied automatically. I refused to think about her words. This was all stupid and I wanted to go home, go to bed, and pretend I’d never signed up for the auction. Better yet, I wanted to hit up a liquor store on my way home and drink myself into oblivion. I don’t even know if the stores are open. I have no idea what time it is. The thought they might be closed sent a wave of depression through me.

  Crack!

  I gasped and jumped at the sudden sound of the whip again.

  “Do not lie to me, beautiful little tigress. What happened to you?” Her voice held a firm note I’d never heard from her before.

  “Nothing,” I protested.

  Crack!

  I flinched, but managed to keep from jumping this time. Somehow, the anticipation of knowing she would do it made my stomach pitch as I heard the noise.

  “What happened to you?” Her raised voice caused me to squirm in my seat.

  No. I will not go there. No!

  “Nothing!” I screamed.

  This time, when the sound came, the chair vibrated as if she’d struck the leg. The sensation startled me, feeding off the tension already zinging through my body.

  “Did you lose someone close to you?” Crack . “Did your parents beat you?” Crack . “What. Happened. To. You.” Crack!

  His fist rammed into my stomach, knocking the breath out of me. The metallic taste of blood invaded my senses. My skin burned and pain wracked my body in waves that threatened to suck me into oblivion.

  “He raped me!” I screamed as I threw myself against my bonds. “He raped me and then he beat me until I couldn’t move. Until all I could see was my blood all over the concrete. He raped me...” I trailed off as great, heaving sobs wracked my body.

  Immediately, the pressure of the cuffs on my wrists released and the blindfold was torn away from my head. I curled up in a ball on the chair, crying as I battled back the flashes of my past. Screams echoed around me, but I couldn’t tell if they were me now, or memories from then. Blood spattered on my skin, but when I tried to wipe it away, it was already gone.

  Delilah pulled me to my feet, and I stumbled after her as she led me to a couch. There, she settled me on her lap, then rocked me like a child. “You’re safe here,” she said. The tone of her voice was soft, soothing. “He can’t hurt you here.”

  “He’s in jail,” I replied, repeating back the mantra that helped me sleep at night when I woke up from nightmares. “He’s in jail. He’s in jail forever.”

  “They caught him?” Her words sounded guarded, careful. As if she wasn’t sure how much she was allowed to ask.

  I nodded and looked around for a tissue to blow my nose as I ignored my pounding heart. Delilah scooted me off her lap and onto the couch, then walked away. I didn’t watch where she went. I simply buried my face in my hands and continued to cry until I felt like the lump in my throat would choke me. Pull yourself together.

  When she returned, she gently pried my hands away from my face, then placed a tissue box at my feet. As I reached to snag a couple of tissues, she dabbed at my face with a cool, wet wash cloth. The cold seeped into my skin and helped push back the headache that already throbbed in my temples. I always developed a headache when I cried.

  “Brandi caught him. She found us. I fell unconscious, but she was able to run away and get help. To identify him while I was in the hospital. My eyes were so swollen shut... I...” My throat convulsed as I worked to speak through the tears. “I was only fourteen. Brandi was twelve.”

  Delilah grabbed a tissue, then swiped my tears from my face. “Was it someone you knew?” Her demeanor and voice made it feel like we were talking about a trivial thing. Like we were just two girls chatting about seeing a particularly sad movie or something. Somehow, it helped me keep talking.

  “He was our new coach at school for the volleyball team. He asked me to stay after practice to help put away the gear. When I was in the locker room changing...” My mind seized up and I couldn’t talk about it. Talking about the before and after weren’t the problem. Remember the assault itself...

  Delilah rubbed small circles on my back and didn’t pressure me for more. “You’ve done well, Paige. You are such a good girl. I’m so proud of you. You’re brave, and beautiful, and I’m very happy with you.”

  No patronizing tone laced her words. Her genuine happiness with me exuded from her, making me want to lean in to her. I’d never experienced the desire to be lavishly praised before, and yet I found myself wanting more. Needing more. At this vulnerable moment, instead of craving becoming so drunk I passed out, I simply existed in the cocoon of Delilah.

  “Now that I know who you are, and why you are, we can begin,” she murmured against my forehead as she placed a kiss there. “But not right now. Right now, I think
it would do us both some good to sleep. First, let me get you a drink.”

  She rose from the couch and I instantly mourned the loss of her presence. My gaze remained glued to her as she walked across the room to a mini-fridge, then opened it and grabbed a bottle of water out. By the time she returned, thirst seemed a real thing again, and I suffered cotton mouth.

  Delilah unscrewed the top, then handed the bottle to me. I took it and greedily began gulping the contents. The icy liquid washed down my throat in a combination of pleasure and pain. Between the screaming and the crying, my throat was very raw.

  “Thank you,” I finally said after most of the bottle disappeared.

  I received a silent nod, then she held out her hand. In a moment of trust, I placed mine in hers, knowing that the gesture was more symbolic than it seemed. It meant I forgave her for this scary, emotional hell she’d just put me through. It meant I was committing to our contract. It meant I was giving her the one thing I didn’t have much of for anybody—faith.

  She led me up some stairs, and exhaustion tugged at me so hard I didn’t even attempt to look at my surroundings. I merely concentrated on following her by putting one foot in front of the other. We entered a bedroom and she turned to face me. Her gaze swept over my clothes.

  “Strip,” she said, and without thinking, I obeyed.

  Meanwhile, she went over to a dresser and pulled something out. When she returned, a silky gown draped over her arm. She held it out to me. I let my fingers slide of the soft, exquisite material.

  “You want me to wear this?” I asked.

  “Yes. I was uncharacteristically hard on you. You deserve some pampering, and restful sleep. No sex tonight. Just come to bed and we’ll cuddle.”

  The idea of cuddling while surrounded in that silk sounded heavenly. I gave her a soft smile of appreciation, then took the gown from her. It cascaded around my body, and ended just past my knees. The silk whispered across my skin like a lover’s kiss, washing away the remaining tension in my muscles.

 

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