NATASHA
I unlocked my door to find the apartment empty with no sign of Dani there. Making my way to my bedroom, I started pulling my dress off. It was uncomfortably tight and now that I knew Nic didn’t even like it, I was mad at myself for wearing it. I knew it was too slutty!
I couldn’t believe I gave a shit about what the man thought, but I did. It was as if I was dressing purely to please him without even knowing what did please him. And I had no idea why I was doing it. I had no idea why I was doing any of it.
Sitting on my bed after pulling a thin blue robe around myself, I saw the white box which held the bond, sitting at the end of the bed. I stared at it for the longest time.
Mentally, I was working out how things would go if I signed it. I saw me and Nic in a bunch of crazy positions. Naked, panting, sweating. It was making me hot and bothered and I had already been brought to that place and left dry twice. I wasn’t about to get myself into that trap again.
My cell went off with a text. When I looked I saw it was from Nic. ‘I hope you’re doing as I asked you to. I also wanted to let you know I made it home, safely. This is a thing that you would receive from me and I from you as a courtesy to one another. Have sweet dreams, my princess.’
A command followed by sweetness. Now that showed me where we were going. He may not have been aware of it himself, but the man was falling for me.
And I was falling for him. I knew it was dangerous to be letting myself get that way. He was straightforward with me. There was no place for love. We were to be sexual partners without emotion.
But I tapped back a text to him. ‘I am doing as you asked. Thank you for telling me you made it home, I appreciate that. I hope you sleep well, my prince.’
I put the phone down and that’s when I got the bond out to start my editing of the document that would bind us.
I was going to fix the fine print to exclude that little phrase about no emotional attachments. Why couldn’t emotions be a part of our arrangement?
If physical pleasure was what he was after, what that lifestyle was about, then what about emotions? Not one of those people could say they had none. I saw their faces at that show. They were enthralled. Their emotions were all on display.
If lust was an emotion they allowed, why not allow more of them?
So I opened the box and pulled out the papers and found a layer of white tissue paper laying in between the bond and something else.
I moved the tissue paper aside and there it was. The chastity belt I would have to wear if I consented to his absurd contract. Well, he said it wasn’t a contract but I saw no difference between the two, they served the same purpose.
I pulled out the metal device that resembled the outline of a pair of panties. Even the crotch was metal with large enough holes for me to use the bathroom for both areas.
A smile crept over my face as I was in total disbelief they still had those things hanging around. This shit was used in medieval times and it would serve some use in society at that time as kids were having kids.
What he wanted me to wear it for was another story all on its own. I stepped into the holster and strapped it on, the cold metal against my skin made me shiver with a slight bit of sinister enjoyment.
I made my way to look in the full-length mirror then I twirled around in it. I noticed that it made my ass sit a little higher. “Oh my God, I could get used to this,” I spoke to myself as I smiled in delight.
I tossed a dress over my body and found my ass looked sensational. So I would leave in the chastity belt rule. I’d let him think I was wearing it for himt. Even though it was entirely for me. He could hold the key to the thing, I didn’t plan on having sex with anyone else anyway.
It was time to set my mind on the rules and the rewriting of them. Nic could have me, God knows I wanted him. But he’d have me only as long as he would make some compromises.
Now that I knew it was more an act than anything else, I was prone to accept it all. But the paper would have to read the way I wanted it to or there would be no act.
I opened the notebook and started with the first rule. I wasn’t going to be called a slave. So that had to be ruled out. But I had a feeling he’d fight me on that one.
I put an asterisk by that rule in my notebook. It reminded me that would be a hard one to change and quite possibly, impossible. I skipped over the benign ones. Ones that said I was to wash myself every day. I found it absurd those kinds of rules would even need to be included. Some of the women the elders dealt with must’ve been pigs. There was even a rule about brushing hair and teeth, twice a day.
I found myself chuckling at many of the things I was reading. Some of them were comical, while others were just controlling. But I tried to really get into the ones I found hard.
The gag ball had made its way into my mind as a reasonable thing to use to learn how to control the outbursts of passion. One could get away with much more in semi-secluded areas if one knew how to be quiet.
With that thought, I stopped writing and thought about how the woman on the stage had a look about her that let all of us know she was indeed being pleasured by what was happening to her. Her face and body told us all that much.
And I found myself dropping the pen and turning over on my stomach to think about Nic and how he must think about that. How he must want to see the feelings on faces and bodies instead of hearing things people can merely make up.
I’ve heard plenty of fake orgasms on movies. Anyone can do that. But the body and face don’t lie. And that made me think Nic was much deeper than he knew he was.
I turned over and jotted down a new rule. Must make love at least once a week, using no other objects but only our bodies. We must connect, emotionally, at least once a week.
I had no idea if he’d fight me on the new rule, but I was willing to fight for it. I loved the way he handled my body. But I wanted to feel him handle me delicately too. And if what he said was true, that this was a mutual thing, then I wanted my way too. I was about to throw in the towel, essentially. I was about to become Nicholai Grimm’s slave.
The idea of having an initiation ceremony of our own flew into my mind and I laid back on the bed trying to think about that. Could I really do that? Could I go that far in public? Was I ready for that?