The heartbeat beneath my ear thrums at a steady rhythm that threatens to drag me back down into the darkness. If it weren’t for the murmuring voices, I would probably let it. My entire body feels a little numb and tingly, like I put it through a massive workout.
Well, I kind of did.
Fingers trace through my hair, and now I know what woke me up. The haze still has a grip on me, but I am fairly certain I’m not purring.
“I can’t believe it’s over.”
Over.
That one word burns away the remaining haze that is floating around me.
So, I was right. Each of them got their kinky rocks off, and now they’re done with me. I was a means to an end. A weekend distraction. Now they are going to toss me to the side.
“I know. I’m honestly a little disappointed.”
Fuck. Stab me with a knife and fucking twist it.
Disappointed? Seriously? Was I not good enough for them? Did I do something wrong? Should there have been more sex? More begging? More tears? Should I have spent the weekend on my knees between their legs whenever they weren’t fucking my pussy?
“Hopefully, she feels the same way.”
Wait—what?
“What do you think she is going to say about the new contract?”
The chest under me rumbles a noise that sounds like an affirmative and makes my pulse race.
New contract?
I’m getting another contract? How long for?
Shit, what if they want to extend it for the week? I can’t miss the first week of classes. I can’t. It’s non-negotiable for me.
But this weekend has been…it’s been everything. If they want to keep me for a few more days, would it really be that bad to miss the course intro classes?
“Even with how new Emery is to all of this, she was perfect for us. All of us. She’ll sign it.”
The fingers run through my hair again, and this time, I allow my eyelashes to flutter open. “What contract?”
My voice is croaky, but that is easily fixed by the bendy straw that is pressed to my lips. I take an exploratory sip and find my mouth flooded with ice cold water. Several mouthfuls later, I relax back onto the chest and scan the room for each of the daddies.
My gaze lands on Darcy, sitting on the chunky wooden coffee table, hands wrapped around the edge and ankles crossed. His lips quirk. “Listening to our conversation, princess?”
I shrug a shoulder. “Only the last bit.”
He smirks at me, then picks up a stack of papers from next to him, curling them into a tube as he braces his elbows on his knees. “Yes, a new contract. But we have a few things we need to talk about first.”
My gaze darts to Hudson at the far end of the couch and to Derek, sitting on the couch up by Xavier’s and my heads. Pushing up, I look down at Xavier. “Hi.”
The muscles around his lips twitch as he watches me. “Hi.”
Not knowing what else to do, I try to sit up, but something pulls tight across my ass cheek. I glance back over my shoulder and have to do a double take at the huge fucking bandage covering one half of my ass. “What the—”
Bracing myself with one hand, I reach to touch it, but Xavier shifts beneath me and captures my wrist. “No touching until you are home.”
It’s then that I become completely fucking aware that I am very naked, while the rest of them are dressed. Not a single man-chest to be seen.
Ignoring the weird feelings that revelation creates, I face Xavier again and he smiles back at me.
Well, okay. After Friday night, I shouldn’t be surprised that I’m ending the weekend in his arms, which also seem to have issues with letting me go. Whatever. I can definitely deal with this clinginess if it means an extension to our weekend contract.
Lying back down, I make eye contact with Darcy again. “I’m listening.”
There is a choked-off laugh and Darcy grins before looking down and shaking his head. I think I also hear someone mumble something about “fucking perfect,” but I can’t be sure.
Hudson picks up the thread of conversation. “How did you find the weekend? We need you to answer honestly. Was there anything that approached a limit for you? Anything that you should have said yellow or even red to?”
His seriousness triggers the people pleaser in me. I close my eyes and replay the weekend from the moment I woke up alone and examine each thing that happened. Shopping. The fitting room. Fuck, the fitting room. And then the Italian place. And car. Goddamn. No regrets there. At all.
Derek’s scene. Had I enjoyed that? I can’t remember orgasming, but I do remember how hot I’d burned. Had it hurt initially? Fuck, yes, it had. But once the others had gotten involved? The pain had turned to something else. Not quite pleasure, but like a deep, hard, fiery massage that actually felt really good.
Then Hudson took his turn. A shiver runs down my spine as the feeling of being a useless fuck toy tries to return. Yep, that was definitely on the yes pile.
The ropes. The chair. Darcy. That fucking vibrator. Pretty sure I’d seen white explode behind my eyelids during that scene. That is one-hundred-percent something I want to repeat.
Swallowing, I recall as much of Xavier’s scene as I can remember. The fear. The blindfold. The cuts. Neck, thighs, back, and whatever the hell is wrong with my ass cheek. It had been the same as Derek’s scene, the pain turning to pleasure. Not to mention, the fear making my clit throb.
Do I wish I would have called red for any of it? Or yellow? No. No, I do not. Do I want him to introduce me to more of his knife roll? Do I want him to terrify me all over again? Weirdly, the answer is yes.
A kaleidoscope of butterflies flutters around in my stomach. If I say no, that I don’t regret anything from the weekend, that I want them to teach me more… will they think that I’m fucked up? Especially given the whole orphan thing?
Opening my eyes, I make direct eye contact with Hudson and can’t help but being a little bit naughty. “The only thing that I wish I had said red to was how much water you all made me drink this weekend. Pretty sure I’m going to spend the entire night peeing.”
It takes a second for my words to land, but then I get a spank to my non-bandaged ass cheek.
“Don’t be a brat.”
I inhale through my nose, a bit shocked at how the butterflies react to both the order and the spank. Okay, so that is all going on the yes pile too.
Trying to play it cool, I force my voice to remain steady. “The majority of the weekend was green. Some yellow, but I spoke up when that happened.”
My ass is given a squeeze. A very fucking firm squeeze.
I lean up and glare down at Xavier, but he just stares back at me until I give up and lie back down.
“Thank you for being honest with us, kitten. The only way this is going to work is if we are all honest,” Hudson says with a smile that makes his pale eyes sparkle.
“What is going to work? Can someone please spell it out for me? And what’s in the new contract?” My damn heart has decided to tango with the butterflies.
“One more thing,” Derek says and holds out his hand to Darcy.
Darcy hands him the top sheet, and I instantly recognize the lined page as my rewards chart.
Derek holds it at an angle in front of my face. “You were such a good girl for us this weekend, you earned yourself a few more rewards.”
I scan the page and see that the first six rows have all been completed.
Hudson’s backpack.
Derek’s iPhone and case.
The clothes.
The art supplies I picked.
The fifth row says gift card.
And the sixth has bracelet written on the line.
Then there are eleven new lines.
Eleven.
This time, when I push up to sit on Xavier’s stomach, he lets me get free. I take the page from Derek as I straighten, ignoring the tape that pulls on my skin, my mouth falling open. “What is this?”
Darcy holds a pale blue envelope out to me. I stare at it, then up at him with some many questions.
One side of his mouth quirks. “I had something else picked out, but I think you will prefer this. I don’t typically enjoy giving gift cards but knowing you will be able to choose exactly what you want means a lot to me. I’ll save my other gift for one of your other rewards.”
Slowly, I take the envelope and open it.
It’s a five-hundred-dollar gift card for the art supply store he took me to yesterday.
My throat tightens and my eyes burn.
I can buy myself all brand-new art supplies. Whatever I want. More charcoals. Another sketch pad. Oh my god, I could buy paint. Or pencils. Or those watercolor markers. And they would be mine. No one would be able to take them away from me.
I make eye contact with Darcy. “Thank you,” I croak out.
He smiles back at me, clearly pleased that I’m so affected by his gift. “This is just to get you started. Once we know where your preferences lie, I can help you pick out things that will work best for you. No more of that cheap shit, though.”
Before any tears roll down my cheeks, a black gift bag is placed on Xavier’s chest. I can barely see his hazel eyes over the top of it, but I put the gift card back in its envelope and open the black bag.
I tilt my head to the side as I pull the first thing out. The packaging is an odd shape, and there is a flat-looking teddy bear staring at me through the little plastic panel on the front.
“Did you…did you get me a Build-A-Bear?” I ask Xavier, my gaze zooming up to meet his eyes.
He stares back at me. “There is another box in there.”
He got me a bear. Because I have the one I bought on Friday for the hotel? Parking my confusion about his gift, I put the bear on the floor and go back to the bag for the box.
There is a tiny little black box at the bottom of the bag. It has black ribbon tied into a perfect bow around it. Carefully, I reach in and pull it out.
I don’t let the suspense build, just pull at the ribbon and open the box.
There, nestled against black display foam, is a gold bracelet with a circular pendant nestled in the center. It’s attached to the chain on both sides and has a black X engraved into the face, with each quadrant displaying a different letter.
D.
H.
D.
X.
Carefully, I pick up the bracelet. The little disc is thick and smooth under my fingers, but the chain is thin and delicate.
“It’s beautiful, I love it,” I whisper because my voice isn’t working right. It’s as if my heart has gotten confused and has now decided it lives in my throat. I offer my wrist to Xavier. “Can you please put it on?”
He moves the bag from between us, and we both have to shuffle so that he can sit a little more comfortably, but I don’t leave my straddle over the top of him.
A few seconds later, I’m cuddled back up to him, the opposite hand wrapped around the braceleted wrist as I stare back at Darcy. “Please tell me I can know about the contract now? I’m dying.”
I get a smirk in return. “Yes, princess. We can talk about the contract now. You might want to sit up.”
Sighing, I shuffle around, careful of the bandage on my butt, and end up sitting on Xavier like he is the couch, feet dangling over the side and my back against the actual couch.
Darcy offers me the first sheet of paper. “This is to say that our first contract and its extension are complete, with satisfaction from both parties. Have a quick read of that, and if you’re okay, sign and date at the bottom.”
Derek offers me a pen.
“Thank you, Daddy,” I reply, eyes already scanning the few paragraphs on the page.
It all looks fine. I’ll be receiving the last of the money today, and the short-term, temporary nature of this contract is now complete.
I squiggle my name at the bottom of the page, still a little weirded out that I have legal autonomy over myself now. For most of my life, I’ve had to get approval from my caseworker to get a haircut.
I hand back the page, and three more are given to me.
“This is our new contract. Take your time reading this one. If you have any questions, at all, ask.”
My heart is in my throat as I begin to read.
They are established as the dominants and me, the submissive.
It mentions exclusivity between us for the duration of the contract.
My weekends from Friday five p.m. to Sunday at four p.m. are theirs.
Safe words are discussed, with zero changes to how we used them this weekend.
There is a very long paragraph on aftercare. Showers. Baths. Cuddles. Massages. Candles. Creams. Oils. Vibrators. Food. Water. So much fucking water.
Then I get to the list of activities that will be required of me. Where I am expecting a menu of sex requests and requirements, I find something so completely unexpected, I frown.
“You want to take me on non-sexual dates?”
“Yes.”
I glance over at Hudson, who has reclined back against the couch, one arm thrown across the backrest. That’s all he gives me, just that one word.
“As in, dinner and a movie?” I attempt to clarify.
“That, and maybe to a live show, out for breakfast. That sort of thing.”
“Will the dates be outside of the weekend activities?”
“It will depend on everyone’s availability, but most likely, yes.”
So, some weeknights and every weekend.
Okay, then.
I go back to reading but pause almost immediately. “What’s Club Obsession?”
“It is the BDSM club we are all members of,” Derek explains. “We’ll be adding you as a guest to my account, which will get you access to the club without requiring you to sign up as a member.”
“What will happen at the club?” I ask, my curiosity well and truly sending me the way of the cat.
“Whatever we have planned for the night. The club has public, semi-public, and private rooms. It caters to a vast majority of kinks. Though we like doing public scenes, we’re happy to negotiate this with you. But it would all be very similar to this weekend, just different flavors and levels of what we have already done with you.”
I swallow. Four thousand questions riffling through my head, but my brain locks on one word. Negotiate. I can handle that. If I truly do not want to do something, I can say no, and I can also use my safe words. Or I can end the contract.
Okay.
Turning to the second page, I find the list of sex activities I’d been expecting.
Everything from our first two contracts is on this list. But there are several additional items that have been added.
Spanking.
Orgasm control.
Sounds.
Spreading.
Sensory play.
Predicament play – medium.
Predicament play – hard.
Anal training – at request of submissive. Hard limit, otherwise.
Punishment.
Correction.
Protocol training.
Medical play.
The page ends there.
“Anal training?” I look straight up at Darcy.
He raises his eyebrows and holds his hands up. “Only, and I absolutely stress this, if you are interested. The whole list is that way. If there is anything on the list you are absolutely not interested in, or if there is something you would like to add to the list, we are happy to discuss it now or at a later date.”
Derek jumps in, leaning forward and pointing to a line at the top of the page. “See here, it says that these are activities that we would like to explore with you, the key word being explore. We can use that word however you like. If it is an activity that is new to you, maybe we do some internet research together—”
“Like, we watch porn together?” I interrupt, because I’ve done the reading research already.
Derek pauses, but Darcy can’t help himself—he starts laughing. Derek’s face does a weird sort of contortion, like he wants to smile but knows he shouldn’t reward my behavior. I get a little giddy twist of happiness from his reaction.
“If that’s what you would like to do.”
“Do you have any questions about the activities themselves?” Hudson asks from his side of the couch.
“There are a few on here that I don’t recognize, like sounds and protocol training, but if everything gets discussed beforehand, I can say no, and I can use my safe words to end a scene, then I am okay to do my own research and come to you with questions after,” I reply and glance at Hudson. His face is completely blank, and I’m not sure if I answered right, so I tack on a little more. “If that’s okay?”
His eyes flick to each of the others before landing back on me. “Yes, that works.”
I smile and take a deep breath before I turn to the last page.
My heart explodes when I see the last two paragraphs of the contract.
I shoot up to standing, fingers gripping the paper, tits, ass, and pussy on display for everyone to see, and I might have even screamed.
What the fuck.
What. The. Fuck.
“Six months? You want six fucking months?” My heart has exploded in my chest, and spots collect at the corners of my vision.
“Language,” Derek scolds, but he captures my hand and pulls me to sit on his lap. “Now, tell us what the issue with six months is. If it’s too long, we are okay to shorten it, but know that it is likely that we will just extend it again.”
I shake my head, my hair falling down over my shoulders. It takes real effort to get my mouth to form words because there is a hollow, too stretched feeling taking up all the room. When it finally works, my voice sounds watery to my own ears. “You want to keep me for six months?”
Derek freezes beneath me, before his arms tighten in the best hug I have ever had. I turn into his arms and wrap my own around his neck, papers still clutched in my hands. “Baby, yes. Six months. To start. We want to spoil you, keep you for ourselves, to show you everything we crave. Is that something you want? The six months is more of a check-in, make sure everyone is still happy with the arrangement.”
I nod, a sniffle accompanying the sound. They want to keep me for six months. I get to keep them for six months. I’m not even going to think about the possibility of more. Not right now.
Six. Fucking. Months.
My fucking heart is going to need some super glue after all of this.
“And what about the contract gift? Did you see that, princess?”
Over Derek’s shoulder, I look at the last block of text and almost freak the fuck out again.
Ten thousand dollars a month.
Yeah, the rate is obviously a lot less than this weekend, but it’s not a one-off gift. It’s a termed gift. Sixty-thousand dollars for twenty-six weekends. That’s just over two K per weekend.
My gaze drifts down to the bottom of the page, where the signatures and dates belong. All four of them have already signed. The only blank spaces are for my signature and date. They are all in on this. So certain they want it, want me, for that long.
Their certainty sparks my own. I don’t want to think about this. I don’t want to hem and haw. I want what they are offering to show me. This entire weekend, they have looked after me, even while getting what they paid for. I’ve never been so cared for in my life. Not even by Tray.
Balls to the motherfucking wall.
Pressing tighter into Derek, I click the top of the pen, brace the paper on the couch, and sign.
As soon as I raise my pen, a rush of relief hits me. They are mine for the next six months. No one can take them away from me.
