Chapter13
Jessica could feel every nerve in her body tingling as she went to the front door of her apartment, her heart beating faster. She had agreed to meet Bradley at her place to discuss their “new arrangement” in private, and to have their first “session.” He had wanted to do it outside of work, on what he called “her territory,” specifically so that she wouldn’t feel like she could justify giving in to anything she didn’t want--so that she would have the advantage of being able to tell him to leave.
There was a part of her mind--still entrenched in the need for a fix--that wanted to do just that, anyway; but she knew that after a few months of working for Bradley and having sex with him regularly, he knew when she was hedging. He could read her better than almost any other man she’d been with. Except Drake. But she wasn’t thinking about Drake--not anymore.
She’d done as she was told and forwarded the messages he sent to her to Brad, even when she hadn’t wanted to--even when they’d included pictures of her doing things she had committed herself to take with her to the grave. As a result, during the rest of their work week together, Brad had rewarded her by calling her into his office to have sex with him, and had given her permission to get herself off apart from that, as well.
He gave me permission… something inside of Jessica shivered in the most delicious way at that fact. There was something in her that loved the idea of giving in--completely and totally--to Brad. To letting him have the control over whether or not she came. And now, they were going to formalize that.
Brad stood on the other side of her door, his arms filled with a bouquet of flowers--dahlias--and a sack, along with a folder. “I am ready,” Bradley said, looking at her levelly. “If you want to back out…”
“No, I’m definitely ready too,” Jessica said. She let him into her apartment, and he smiled, leaning in to kiss her delicately on the cheek.
“First, the flowers,” he said, extending them towards her. “The bag after we talk.”
“Yes, sir,” Jessica said, trying it on for size--it felt good. Bradley smiled.
“Why don’t you go put those in some water, and I guess we can talk here in the living room?” Jessica nodded.
“I’ve got wine, too,” she said. “Or beer, if you prefer.”
“We should be completely sober when we discuss how this is going to work,” Bradley said gently. “But if you want, once we have the most important things out of the way, I’d love a glass of wine.” Jessica smiled and went into the kitchen, letting Bradley settle himself in the living room. She put the dahlias in water and retrieved the wine and a couple of glasses, to be ready for them later.
“Okay,” Jessica said, sitting down on the couch next to Bradley. “So, I guess...I’ll let you start?”
“I drew up this contract,” Bradley explained. “That we’re going to fill in with the details of what our boundaries are, what the consequences will be if we violate those boundaries -- all the terms and conditions of what we’re going to be doing together.” He opened the folder and pushed it along the coffee table towards her. “Everything in this is strictly voluntary. If we cancel this contract, you’ll still be my employee; we just won’t be doing specifically this anymore.”
“I understand,” Jessica said. She began looking over the pages that Bradley had prepared, mentally noting the spots where she would need to initial or sign. There were three pages devoted just to the different things that they could or would do together. There were spaces next to each one to designate it as something she absolutely didn’t want to do, as something she might want to do, or as something she definitely wanted to do--and with space for Bradley to do the same.
The contract outlined what he’d already told her: that it was separate from her employment, that either of them could back out at any time, that there would be consequences if boundaries already decided-on were violated, including the following entry.
If, for example, I discover that you are engaging in dangerous sex to feed your addiction, the consequence will be that this contract is null and void. If I discover that you deliberately encouraged me to do something you didn’t want in order to be degraded, there will be no sexual contact between us for two weeks, at which point there will be a discussion about how and whether or not we will have sex again.
The contract was comprehensive, outlining what the basic premise of their relationship would be, what the basic rules were during their “sessions,” everything that Jessica could have ever even thought of, and many things she hadn’t: safe words and safe gestures that would stop the session, gestures and words that would slow it down without stopping--which they each would pick out for themselves and share with the other, and write down on the contract--down to a space for agreement about which “punishments” would be doled out for which infractions, outside of the deal breakers and consequences for violating hard boundaries.
“Did you get a lawyer to draw this up for you or something?” Bradley grinned at her question as she finally came to the last page.
“A lawyer who is also a member of the kink community,” he confirmed. “I didn’t tell her why I needed it or who for--but she’s a very excellent dominatrix.” “You’ve worked with her?” Jessica wasn’t sure why she felt intimidated by that. Bradley shook his head.
“Just occasionally observed her,” he said. “She has a couple of subs who clean her house a few times a week.” Jessica shook her head in amazement at that.
“So, I guess this is where we discuss the particulars?” Bradley flipped to that section of the contract.
“It is, indeed,” he said. “I want you to be completely honest about the things we’re going to do together. I will be too.”
Jessica went through the list, reading over each item, with a pen in hand. There was a temptation in her mind to check off that she was absolutely in favor of everything on it--but, she thought, it was almost certain that Bradley would reject that outcome. He wanted her to set boundaries. He wanted her to pick and choose what she actually liked, what she might like if he did it right, and what she never wanted to do. She took a deep breath and pushed the impulse to do what her addiction-addled self wanted.
Instead, she began marking the paper honestly. There were--indeed--some things that she had done before, and some she had never done, that she didn’t want to do. She came to the portion of the list that dealt with anal and hesitated. She thought about Drake taking her that way, about his friends doing it, and there was a part of her that was simultaneously revolted and intrigued and desirous and chilled.
But anal with Bradley would be an entirely different thing--wouldn’t it? She couldn’t imagine him threatening her, debasing her with the suggestion that he would go so far as to rape her anally if he wanted to. It would be an entirely different experience. Maybe. She added the notation to all the items in that section quickly and moved on before she could linger on it.
When she had finished, she thought--she hoped--that she had managed to be true to what she really wanted, while giving Bradley plenty of room to improvise. The items had already begun to turn her on, thinking about her boss doing them to her--spanking her, using various devices on her, making her ask permission to come, making her beg him to fuck her a particular way--all things that would require her to give up the final decision to him, at least in appearance. She could surrender her will to the man who had already shown that he respected her, that he wanted her safety, that he wanted to preserve her dignity as a person. That he liked her.
She handed the list to him and got to work initialing and signing the rest of the contract,
re-reading things to make sure she was doing what she should. Jessica could feel herself tingling with the electric knowledge that soon--soon--she would find out what was in the cloth bag that Bradley had brought to her house. That she would be giving up all control of the situation to him, giving herself to him, consciously, even if it was only for a few hours.
“I think we’re done,” Bradley said finally. “Do you want to look over my list?” Jessica shook her head.
“Not right now,” she said. “I might later--but right now, I kind of want to get to the main event.” Bradley tsked and shook his head, amusement lighting up his eyes.
“Such an impatient girl,” he said. He picked up the bag he’d brought into the apartment and set it in his lap. “All right. We’re agreed on our safe words and safe-gestures?” Jessica nodded.
“Yes, sir,” she said. Already, she was buzzing with the awareness that she had given the man seated next to her on her couch control of the situation. She was letting him determine what would happen--based on what she had said she was okay with and not okay with, and whatever he had brought with him.
“Stand up,” Bradley said, his voice firm. Jessica moved to obey, rising to her feet and turning to face him. “Strip for me, Jessica.” He took his phone out of his pocket, and Jessica frowned in confusion; if she was going to strip for him, what was with the phone? Was he going to ignore her? But after a few seconds, music started playing--starting with sparse drums and a feminine-sounding voice, a “Hey!” and then snarling, warbling guitar.
As the song settled in, the female voice singing “Don’t touch, kid/ sleep with the lights on/ touch, kid/ how you surprise me now…” Jessica began to sway to the beat, her hands moving to the buttons at the front of her dress.
She got to work, falling into the song, letting the sinuous rhythm and the woman’s voice and the textural guitar inspire her movements as she slowly unbuttoned her dress and then let it drop from her shoulders, to her waist, to her hips, to the floor.
Jessica watched Bradley as she stripped, but his face barely betrayed more than interest; he was obviously enjoying himself, but she didn’t see the usual signs of desire that were always so easy to read in him. That shook her, but Brad gestured for her to continue, and she did, turning and twisting to add more intrigue to the act of taking off her bra and panties, slipping off the knee socks she’d put on because she knew he liked them.
Finally, she was naked but felt--somehow--more than naked, the way she had the first time they’d had sex. She had no idea what Bradley was going to do to or with her, and that awareness made her scared and thrilled all at the same time.
Bradley set the phone aside and rose to his feet. “Well done,” he said, pitching his voice just a touch louder than the music. “I needed you naked for what we’re going to do--are you wet, Jessica?” She nodded eagerly.
“Yes, Sir,” she said.
“Very good,” Bradley said. “You’re going to get even wetter before I’m done with you. Now, put your hands behind your back.” Jessica immediately obeyed, feeling her skin crawling and almost seeming to buzz with anticipation. She settled her wrists at the small of her back, and Bradley--carrying the bag still--moved behind her. She felt something silky and soft brush against her skin, and then wrap around her wrists, tightening.
“What’s that?” Part of the contract had stipulated that she was allowed to ask whatever questions she wanted--that unless she’d been directed specifically that she wasn’t to speak, or unless she was gagged, she could say anything, be as loud as she wanted. That was in the rules. She almost wanted Bradley to revoke her permission to speak, to feel his power over her more directly.
“It’s silk rope,” Bradley replied. “We can experiment with something harsher another time, but for right now I don’t want to risk making any marks on you that won’t fade in an hour or so. I can’t trust you not to deliberately harm yourself yet.”
That stung--a little bit--but Jessica knew it was true. She probably would have twisted her wrists against any harsher binding that her boss might have used on her for their first session, wanting to somehow twist what he was doing into something more debasing than it was.
As the silk rope tightened, Jessica could tell that Bradley knew exactly what he was doing; she wouldn’t be able to struggle at all--at least, not effectively. Her arms were immobilized behind her back. She could feel the pull in her shoulders, but it wasn’t enough to truly hurt, or at least it wasn’t yet.
She heard a rustle and clatter as Bradley set the bag down behind her, and then his hands moved around to her front, cupping her breasts and fondling them lightly. “Before I can expect you to be good, I’ll have to teach you what happens when you’re bad, won’t I?”
“Yes, Sir,” Jessica said, her heart beating faster.
“Do you think you deserve a spanking, Jessica?”
“Yes! Yes, Sir,” she said, almost involuntarily pulling against the bindings on her wrists. Bradley’s fingertips rolled and twisted her nipples, sending little jolts of pleasure through her body, and Jessica gasped and shuddered, leaning into the rough touches. She would never have anticipated that Brad would be this capable, this quickly--she would have thought she would have to push him to truly be rough with her. But if he was willing to go rough, she would see how far he would take it.
His hands dropped away, and Jessica groaned in disappointment. Wasn’t he going to punish her? Brad stepped back from her, and she turned her head to see him walking towards the couch. He sat down, and she turned around to face him, her arms still behind her back. Bradley opened the bottle of wine she’d brought out and poured a glass, taking a sip, making her wait for whatever it was he was going to do--or command her to do--next. Finally, he looked up to meet her gaze and half-smiled.
“Come here, Jessica,” he said, his voice taking on that firm, commanding note once more. Jessica moved to obey him immediately, hungry for whatever would come next--the spanking he’d promised?
Bradley stopped her when she was only a few inches away from his knees. “Turn around and face the coffee table,” he said. Feeling slightly awkward, Jessica did as she was told. “Bend forward as far as you can.” She did, until the top half of her body was parallel to the coffee table, her back arched slightly. The tension in her shoulders increased, but it wasn’t precisely painful, yet. “Spread your legs a bit--if you fall forward onto the table, we’ll have to cut your punishment short.”
Once again, he made her wait, her skin tingling, her whole body more than ready for whatever it was that Brad was going to do. Just when she was about to ask if he was going to spank her or not, she heard the harsh, staccato slap, and then felt the stinging heat of his hand’s impact on her right buttock. Before she could even fully react, the blow repeated--this time on her left buttock. Jessica yelped in belated surprise. “I want you to say, ‘Thank you, sir’ after every blow,” Bradley commanded.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” Jessica said. She expected him to hit her right buttock again, but instead he struck her left for the second time in a row, deepening the heat there. “Thank you, Sir,” she said quickly, the words leaving her in a rush.
Right, left, left, right, right, right, left, Bradley struck her ass with the flat of his hand, every blow sending jolts of sensation through Jessica’s body, each one adding a new layer of heat to her sensitive skin, and after a few moments, as she gave into the punishment more fully, she felt her pussy becoming wetter and wetter with each strike, each time she thanked him.
He sped up, slapping her buttocks in rapid succession until she couldn’t even count the number of times he’d done it anymore, until she was at the edge of almost wanting to tell him to stop--she could feel the tears beginning to sting her eyes, but they had only begun.
Then, just as suddenly as he’d started, he stopped. Jessica tensed, waiting for him to start again, her ass tingling hot and somehow cold at the same time, her whole body vibrating from the tension that consumed it. She wanted more--but she also wasn’t sure she could take any more. She wanted to know what he would do next, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask.
A rustle on the couch next to her announced Bradley’s rise from it. He picked up his glass of wine and stepped around the coffee table, to where he’d left the bag. “Did you deserve that, Jessica?”
“Yes, Sir,” Jessica replied almost automatically.
“Why did you deserve it?” That stymied her. Why did she deserve the spanking? What had she done to merit being punished?
“Because--because…” Jessica licked her dry lips, trying to think. “Because I need to learn how to be good?”
“Exactly right,” Bradley confirmed, his voice softening with approval. “Do you need more punishment?”
“Yes, Sir,” Jessica said. “I need as much punishment as you see fit to give me.” She heard Bradley chuckle, and in the periphery of her vision saw him pick up the bag--though he didn’t open it or show her what was in it.
He came back to the couch and sat down. “This time, I want you to count down from twenty,” he told her. Twenty? Twenty what? “Understood?”
“Yes, Sir,” Jessica replied, not sure what she was, exactly, agreeing to. She heard metal and plastic shuffling, clattering, and fabric whispering, and then nothing for a long moment. Jessica didn’t know what she should even expect.
Just when the anticipation made her feel the most desperate, she felt the impact: something flat, colder and broader than a hand, across both of her buttocks at the same time. Jessica cried out, shocked by the sensation. Belatedly, she realized it was some kind of paddle. “Twenty!” She only just remembered to count. That answered the question then: she was going to get twenty blows from the paddle.
But she didn’t. Instead, Bradley stopped at ten and stood, pulling her to a fully upright position. He brought the glass of wine up to her lips. “Thirsty?” Jessica nodded.
“Yes, Sir,” she said. He tilted the glass, and she drank, savoring the cold sweetness coating her mouth. “Thank you, Sir,” she added when he brought the glass away. He lifted it for another sip, and she accepted it, drinking a little more deeply before she thanked him again.
Bradley set the wine glass down and reached up between her legs, rubbing against her soaking wet labia. “You’re enjoying your punishment, aren’t you?” Jessica nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes, Sir.” Bradley smiled, briefly breaking through the persona he’d adopted once they had started the session formally.
“I think you need just a little bit more,” Bradley said. His fingers withdrew from her vulva and reached around to stroke her sensitive, tender buttocks, making Jessica shiver.
“Yes, Sir,” she agreed.
“But I think this time, it’ll be these gorgeous tits of yours--I think your ass is done for right now,” Bradley said. He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. “And I think once I’m done, I can show you what happens when you’re good.” Jessica nodded her agreement to that prospect.
He reached down into the bag and took out was Jessica recognized--after a moment--as a pair of nipple clamps. They were fairly tame ones; no spikes on them, no rough edges. They looked a little like clothespins, but the ends were covered in soft latex, and there was a screw on one side of each one to control how tightly they would pinch.
Jessica bit her bottom lip, watching in fascinated anticipation as Bradley opened up one of the clamps. He rolled and twisted her right nipple, making it hard, and then closed the clamp around it, and Jessica moaned at the sensation: pain and pleasure, all mingled up, with nothing she could do about it.
He repeated the movements on her other nipple, and for a moment, he left her standing there, arms bound behind her back, nipples throbbing with an unfamiliar aching pain-and-pleasure. Jessica began to whimper as the sensation intensified the longer the clamps stayed on. “That’s not all of it, Jess,” Brad told her, and she looked up to meet his gaze.
“Yes, Sir,” she said. Bradley reached down into the bag once more, and Jessica’s eyes widened as she caught sight of a flogger. It was simple: a handle and strips of wide leather, suede on one side and shiny on the other. “Do you know how to use that?” The question left her before she could even think about whether or not it was--strictly speaking--a good idea to ask it.
“Well enough,” Bradley said. “Are you going to accept your punishment, Jessica? Or do we need to stop here?”
“No--no, we don’t need to stop. I’ll accept my punishment,” Jessica said. Bradley smiled.
“Good,” he said. He twitched the flogger in his hand and teased her with it for a moment, brushing it over her skin, tickling the undersides of her breasts. “Look straight ahead,” he told her. Jessica did as she was told. Because of where she was looking, she couldn’t tell when he was going to strike her, and she couldn’t anticipate it. When the splatter of leather against skin reached her ears and the crackling explosion of sensation rocked her left breast, she cried out. “Count down from twenty again, Jessica,” Bradley told her.
“Yes, Sir,” she said. “Twenty!”
“No, the next one is twenty,” Bradley said. Jessica heard the rustle of the leather strips the instant before they hit her right breast.
“Twenty!” she cried out.
This time, he did take her all the way to “one,” not stopping even as tears began to roll down her cheeks, and as her voice began to crack on the numbers, as she trembled, helpless before him. Jessica didn’t use the safe word; she didn’t want to. She wanted to take the full punishment. She wanted the reward for taking it.
“Did you let me keep doing that to debase you?” Jessica shook her head.
“No, Sir,” she said.
“Why did you let me keep doing that?” Jessica met his gaze.
“Because I deserve punishment,” she said.
“Why do you deserve punishment?”
“To learn how to be good, Sir,” Jessica replied.
“Do you think you were good?” Jessica considered that for a moment. She nodded. Every inch of her body seemed to be tingling, but her ass and her breasts were on fire, and she was so wet, so turned on that she could feel the slickness extending down onto her thighs. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had been that powerfully turned on, and she had been used to being turned on powerfully around Bradley.
“I hope I was good, Sir,” she said. Bradley smiled at her.
“You were very good,” he said, leaning in and kissing her on the lips lightly. “I think you deserve a reward for that now, don’t you?” Jessica nodded eagerly.
“Please, Sir,” she said.
“You have to be a little more patient than that, Jessica,” Bradley chided. He picked up the glass of wine once more and offered it to her, letting her drink down the rest of its contents when she accepted it. “Next time, I’ll make you show me how grateful you are for your punishment, before I give you your reward. But this time, I think I am too interested in getting off, too.” Jessica smiled, feeling the tension between her hips deepening at the knowledge that soon--soon--she would get what she so desperately wanted.
He began to strip off his jeans and long-sleeved shirt, taking his time, leaving Jessica helplessly waiting. She wanted to see him naked, she wanted to feel his cock inside of her--in her mouth, in her pussy, she didn’t care where. Bradley even went so far as to fold his clothes neatly, setting them aside, standing before her with his cock fully erect. “Where should I fuck you, to show you how much you’ll like being good for me?” Jessica swallowed, wondering when her throat had gotten so dry.
“Anywhere you want,” she said. “Please.”
“You didn’t say sir,” Bradley chided her. “And that isn’t what I asked you. Where do you want my dick, Jessica?”
“In my pussy, sir,” she said. “I want it in my pussy right now.” Bradley smiled slightly.
“Is your pussy nice and wet for me, Jess?” She nodded.
“It is, sir, soaking wet,” she told him. He reached up between her legs to confirm it, stroking her with lingering touches. Jessica moaned, her clit even more sensitive than it usually was, and whimpered when he stopped.
“You are nice and soaking wet, that’s true,” Bradley said. “If you want my cock inside you, you’ll have to ride me. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir,” Jessica replied. Bradley sat down, and Jessica tried to think of how she could mount him, with her hands tied behind her. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, keenly aware still of the throbbing in her buttocks, her breasts, her pussy--different kinds of throbbing, but all of it echoing the pulse fluttering in her chest. She took a breath, and Bradley reached out to help her, lifting her a little bit and spreading her legs so that she could climb on top of him.
She hovered just above his erection, thighs parted around his lap, and almost as an afterthought, Bradley reached up and removed the clamps from her nipples. Jessica moaned out in relief, sinking down onto him all at once, closing her eyes at the dual pleasure of her freed nipples and the fullness inside of her. “You had better start moving or I’ll think you aren’t that good after all,” Bradley said after a few moments.
Jessica nodded, murmured a “Yes, Sir,” and struggled slightly to pull herself up, and then sink down once more, without being able to get any leverage with her arms. Her legs would be aching the next day--she knew that--but it was so satisfying to feel his thick heat inside of her, filling her up finally, pushing deeper and deeper inside of her as she rose and fell on him, twisting her hips to get the best contact between their bodies, to get the tip of his cock to rub against her pleasure center. Brad’s hands moved to her hips, and he began to guide her, to control her a little bit.
“Remember that you can’t come until I give you permission,” he said as she began to speed up.
“Yes, Sir,” she said--although she hadn’t remembered until he’d said it. She began to move faster, flexing around him, trying to bring Bradley to the edge faster than she reached it so that she wouldn’t have to ask him for permission. Maybe if she made him come first, he would get her off with his fingers without making her ask for it. But Bradley was clever enough to have already guessed at her intentions--which Jessica figured out when he began to slow her down.
He let her speed up again after a few agonizing seconds, just when she lost that closeness to climax, and slowed her down once more when she was on the edge. Over and over again, until Jessica couldn’t stand it anymore. She groaned in frustration as Bradley began to stroke and rub her, bringing her so close that she could almost taste the orgasm gathering in her hips and then stopping almost completely. “Ask me to let you come, Jessica,” Bradley told her.
“Please, Sir,” Jessica said.
“You have to do better than that,” Bradley said. Jessica met his gaze. She wanted it so badly--why was he denying her when he knew she wanted it? When he could feel it, she knew he could?
“Please, Sir,” Jessica begged.
“No--you have to ask specifically for what you want,” Bradley told her. He kissed her. “Tell me what you want, Jessica.”
“Please let me come, Sir,” Jessica said, almost crying it out.
“Again,” Bradley said firmly.
“Please, please let me come, Sir,” Jessica repeated. Bradley smiled and began thrusting up into her, touching her, rubbing her clit until she was right on the edge, so close that she could taste it.
“You can come, Jess,” Bradley murmured in her ear, pounding up into her as he rubbed her clit steadily. Jessica felt the tension deep down in her hips break like a faulty dam, and she cried out in pleasure as wave after wave of sensation coursed through her. It was the most intense orgasm of her life, aided by her sense of helplessness, her bone-deep obedience to Bradley’s commands.
She fell into it like a deep pool, letting it rampage through her, letting it obliterate all of her thoughts as she continued to ride him, her body tensing and relaxing in spasms she couldn’t have controlled if she wanted to. Jessica collapsed against Bradley when the pleasure became too intense, and didn’t even notice him slow to a stop, without reaching his own climax inside of her, just holding her.
She was so far gone she didn’t even feel his fingers tugging at the bindings on her wrists, freeing her finally. As Jessica slipped into the deep velvet darkness of intense pleasure, she vaguely realized she’d never felt that good in her whole life.