Ryan

 

 

 

She’s mine, but she doesn’t know it yet. I can see it in every look she gives me, every movement she makes, every breath she takes. Sweet Laura is shifting on her seat, trying to hide her desire behind a wall of suspicion and questions she doesn’t really want the answers to.

She has yet to ask me the real questions plaguing her mind. I know she will say yes, but she can’t let herself go there just yet.

If it’s too hard for her to come up with the right questions, I might have to help her along.

“Have you ever been someone’s submissive?” I ask her.

She blushes at the question, and before she’s able to reply, she has to reach for her glass one more time, taking a large sip of the soothing liquid.

“No,” she says after putting the glass down. For a moment, it seems as if she wants to say more, but whatever it is, she decides to keep it to herself.

“Do you know what it means?” I continue my prompting.

A smile joins the pink flush on her cheeks.

“Yes, I think I do,” she says, barely able to look at me.

“You think you do,” I repeat. “Would you care to elaborate?”

Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head.

“What does it mean to you?” she wants to know instead, turning the tables back to me.

Fair enough. She deserves to know.

“It means that you disregard your will and desires, and agree to let me take care of you, in every way, for as long as you are mine. Some people call it power play, and I think that is quite suitable. You surrender your will to me. You’ll do exactly as I please, exactly as I command you to do, and if you fail to please me, you’ll be punished. And when you do please me, you will be rewarded. It’s that simple, really.”

She bites her lower lip as she listens to my words.

“Rewards,” she repeats. “You mean, the money?”

I shake my head.

“No, the money has nothing to do with it. You are paid for agreeing to spend those twenty-four hours with me and obeying the rules that come along with it.”

“But what if I break the rules?” she asks. “Will that be when I’m punished?”

I shake my head.

“Failing to obey me doesn’t necessarily mean you’re breaking the rules,” I say. “Here, let me show you.”

I open the folder to search for another document, the contract that lays out the framework of my agreements with the girls.

“This has to remain between us,” I warn her, before handing her the paper.

She nods as she takes the contract, curiously scanning through it. It doesn’t state any details about what she can expect to happen between us, but it provides a general outline of the necessary confidentiality, indicates she can’t leave my house, use the internet, or make phone calls while she’s with me, and includes a non-disclosure obligation.

“This is more than just rules,” she says. “This a legal contract.”

“Correct,” I agree. “I expect compliance in every aspect. And if these conditions aren’t met on your end, I have no reason to hold up my end of the deal.”

“You mean you wouldn’t pay me,” she clarifies.

I nod. “We would also run into some legal trouble. Obviously.”

“Sure,” she says, looking so tense and serious that it’s almost comical to me. “And –”

“Miss Brown, have you ever been spanked before?”

My question catches her off guard, and her reaction is priceless. She freezes mid-sentence and stares at me with wide eyes, and the color of her cheeks changes to an even deeper red than before. The green of her eyes strikes me again in this moment. They’re so intense and vibrant, as if an entire forest full of dark fir trees was moving behind them.

“Have you ever felt pain that spiked into pleasure?” I add. “Have you ever been tied down, whipped, and forced to come multiple times in a row?”

Her breathing deepens as she listens to my words. She fixes her cardigan around her ample chest, as if she could hide the heaving motions that tell me everything I need to know about her. No matter if she has any experience with this type of thing or not, she’s a natural submissive. Her eyes flit away, fixating on her glass, her lap, a random spot next to the table, before she’s drawn back to me.

“No,” she breathes. Her voice is merely more than a hoarse whisper.

“Would you like to try all those things?” I encourage. “With me.”

The look she’s giving me lacks clarity. Her eyes are still big and wide, but she’s neither smiling nor frowning, instead exhibiting a neutral expression void of any emotion. Only the flickering of her long eyelashes tells me of the turmoil racing inside her head.

She’s smart, not an impulsive person prone to making rash decisions. She will say yes, but not today. Things will be different with her, I knew that before I even approached her. Buying an experienced whore to play a part she’s familiar with is one thing – paying a girl who’s never done this type of thing before, a girl who won’t fake it – can’t fake it – a girl whose submission will be brutally honest and raw, that’s a whole new story.

I like new.

I like different.

I can only hope that my knowledge of human nature doesn’t betray me with this one. Despite her expressive eyes, I find it harder to read her than anyone else I’ve been with before.

But I appear to be right about one thing.

“I need time,” she says. “To consider.”

“That’s what I expected,” I tell her.

I open the folder again, producing another, smaller folder to give to her. She takes it with both hands, eyeing it as if I’d just handed her a valuable treasure. In a way, I have.

“It’s all you need to know,” I say. “Everything you’d be agreeing to.”

She nods and places the folder in her lap, her hands resting on top of it while she continues looking at me.

“When do you need to know my decision?” she asks, sitting up straight and tense, waiting for my response.

“If I haven’t heard from you within twenty-four hours, the proposal is off the table and you’ll never hear from me again.”

She gasps in surprise.

“Twenty-four hours,” she repeats. “That’s not a lot of time –”

“It’s long enough,” I interrupt her. Then I rise from my chair, drop a quick, soft kiss on the top of her head, and proceed to the door.