The Agreement

by Lund, S. E.

  "For someone with a kink, plain old orgasms aren't enough. It's like eating vanilla ice cream after you've had chocolate truffle. You can eat it but it's not the same pleasure."

  "You and Lara," I said and couldn't help but smile a bit. "With the ice cream metaphor. Except vanilla ice cream is still sweet. Anal and mock rape aren't."

  "They can be. It's all in your preparation and build-up. Flyboy should have studied BDSM before he ever tried anything. He should have gone to someone and been trained like I was. I know how to do this, Kate. You can relax."

  "So, is this dinner and this talk part of how to do this?" I said, looking at him, but not in his eyes. I kept my eyes on his chin or his mouth to avoid eye contact. He tipped his head down so that I couldn't avoid his eyes.

  "Not my usual MO," he said. "But the general approach is the same. I have to find out what a sub needs and if we're compatible. Sometimes, I have to seduce them a bit."

  "So, in your mind, you're seducing me right now."

  He smiled. "I hope so."

  "What do you hope will happen?"

  He moved a little closer to me and brushed a strand of hair from my cheek.

  "I hope," he said, keeping his voice soft. "I hope that we'll continue to talk like this, with you telling me in intimate detail what you did that made you feel pleasure and what he did that scared you. Then I hope you'll agree to take me to your apartment. I hope that you'll agree to let me fuck you tonight so that the first time is out of the way. I promise to make you come at least twice if you do. Nothing will happen tonight in terms of bondage and dominance. It's too soon. But it's not too soon for us to fuck, given our obvious mutual attraction."

  "This is all too, I don’t know – clinical."

  "I thought you wanted to understand. I thought if I explained everything, you'd feel more comfortable. I can just do it, if you'd prefer. Just train you without explaining."

  I said nothing, seriously considering it, a jolt of desire rushing through me from his so blatant words. I couldn't help but imagine what he would do to me if I let him.

  "You seem to have this all plotted out."

  "I do. It's my specialty. I like to study a problem. I like to break it down into its parts. I like to create a strategy for solving it, lay out all the steps. I like to follow through."

  "So I'm a problem?"

  "I want you as my submissive. The problem is how I can get you to submit. I have to understand you, what you need and want in order to have you, satisfy your needs. Will you at least consider my request?" He wiped his mouth with a napkin and held my eyes.

  I glanced away, my stomach all butterflies at the prospect of taking him home with me. "I'm thinking."

  "Good. Now, tell me about your love of the fine arts. Do you paint or draw?"

  I took another spoonful of soup but suddenly I didn't want to talk about art. "Both. I did a lot in high school, but it was too frivolous for my father."

  "Did he actually tell you that you couldn't study art in college?"

  "Not in so many words, but he made his views known, as he does with everything."

  "What about your mother? Didn't she encourage you?"

  "You want to talk about submissives? I think that sometimes, mother was afraid of him."

  "He wasn't violent was he?"

  I shook my head. "No. He just has this way… You know when he disapproves. He doesn't even have to say anything."

  "Sounds like an old bastard. So, now, instead of writing about politics, you're writing about culture and the arts. That's a good compromise. You're a very good writer."

  "Thank you," I said, starting to relax now that we weren't talking so bluntly about sex. "It makes me happy to be able to write about what I really love."

  The waitress removed our empty bowls and brought the Pelmeni and Blinchik. Drake cut up one of the Pelmeni and held his fork to me.

  "Here," he said, "taste this. It's so good."

  I took the bite-sized piece of dumpling off his fork and he smiled as I ate it. I closed my eyes it was so delicious, rich and savory. "That's so good!"

  He smiled. "I love that face," he said, his voice a bit husky. "I bet it's like your orgasm face. At least, I hope so."

  "Do you talk like this to all your submissives?"

  "Like what?" He tried to act all innocent, but he knew exactly what I meant.

  The cocktail waitress came by and he ordered another round of Anisovaya.

  "So," he said, his voice soft and low. "Will you take me to your place tonight and let me fuck you and make you come at least twice?"

  I forked a piece of Pelmeni. "I don't know if I can – tonight."

  "But maybe some night? That's a step forward. Look, if you're unsure about sex, just let me come over and see your apartment at least. I'd love to see what your apartment looks like from the inside instead of just what your peephole looks like. Besides, if you make me stay outside, Mrs. Kropotkin might call the cops if she thinks I'm harassing you. You're an artist. I'd love to see your art. "

  I couldn't help but smile a bit. "You want to come in and see my etchings?"

  "I really do want to see your art. I want to know you, Kate. Your art is part of you."

  "You don't need to see my art to be my Dom."

  "Look, Kate, I promise I'll keep my hands to myself. If you change your mind and want to fuck me, you'll have to make the move."

  I turned and looked directly in his eyes, searching for how truthful he was, but it was impossible to tell. All I had was Lara's word to go on – that he was absolutely trustworthy. But could I trust her?

  After we finished the meal, he fed me some blini with whipped cream and fresh fruit mixed with some fruity Russian liqueur. He seemed to love feeding me and I told myself that this was great insight into what made him a Dom. He really enjoyed taking care of a woman's needs – all of them. Chivalry was not dead with Drake. Feeding – I remembered the movie 9 ½ Weeks when the male character fed her while she was blindfolded, trying to heighten her senses.

  Drake made everything about control and sensation, as if his life was dedicated to it. I thought about him while he swirled the bit of crepe around in the sweet sauce before lifting the fork to my mouth, his eyes encouraging me to have more. He was a neurosurgeon. He dealt in brains – how they worked and what to do when they went wrong. Neurons, brain structures, neurological responses. He had an undergraduate degree in Clinical Psychology, and studied the mind and how it worked, the unconscious, emotions, personality. It made sense that he would be all about control and enhanced sensation. Maybe it fascinated him on that level.

  I opened my mouth and let him feed me the crepe and it was so delicious, I closed my eyes and murmured my appreciation. When I opened them, I saw real pleasure in his eyes.

  "I love it when you close your eyes like that," he said as he watched me chew. "But when I make you come, you'll keep your eyes open and focused on mine."

  I swallowed hard at the thought. It wasn't just the idea of him making me come, it was how certain he was that he would, and that certainty aroused me, my body warming, my flesh swelling. He was so sure of his ability. If he could make me this aroused just feeding me crepes and talking, what would it be like if we were alone and naked? My legs felt weak and I was glad to be sitting down.

  Was I that woman – the woman who was so easily controlled by a dominant man? Who got off on being controlled - on giving over complete control to a man?

  "What's going on in that too-intelligent mind of yours?"

  I frowned. "Why am I too intelligent? You said you didn't like stupid women…"

  He laughed and shook his head. "I should have said too active mind. Sometimes very intelligent women over-think certain things – like sex and pleasure. You have a very responsive body, Kate. You should just free yourself to feel."

  "Women are always wet, you know," I said, irritated that he was so certain about me. "You're a doctor. You should know that from your Gynecology rotation."

  "Not
that wet." He gave me that half-grin that was more of a smirk. "Don't be embarrassed. I was hard as a rock so we're even."

  He was hard as rock. And like Lara said, hung. I recalled the feel of him pressed against my belly and how excited I felt knowing he was as aroused as I was. How I wanted him inside of me. While Big was too big for me, I figured Drake would fit.

  "You seem so certain of yourself."

  "You like that I'm so certain of myself." His grin grew wider and he forked another piece of crepe, picking up some whipped cream and fruit. "If I wasn't, what kind of Dom would I be?" He held the fork up once more and I opened my mouth. "You have to believe that I'm dominant for this to work. If you doubt my ability to take control over you, you'll never be able to yield power. That's key."

  "So this is an act to convince me you're able to take control?"

  He shook his head and fixed his gaze on me. "This is no act. I'm being as open and honest as I can with you. I understand you, Kate. You can relax with me. You can just be. Believe me, I won't judge you except when you disobey my orders or don't try hard enough to comply."

  Disobeying his orders… Why did that both arouse me and irritate me?

  "I'm so conflicted about this."

  "I know you are." He reached out and took my hand, stroking his thumb over my palm and even that sent a stab of lust to my groin. "You're afraid. Your modern feminist sensibility thinks this is wrong, that submission is wrong, but that primal part of your brain knows it's right."

  He leaned in closer, then he ate a forkful of crepe himself, chewing thoughtfully. He watched me, his blue eyes determined.

  "You have to get over your self-judgment and accept this for what it is. Submission for you is just the way you prefer to experience sex. Nothing more, nothing less. There's no deep meaning to it. It just turns you on."

  "It shouldn't."

  "There you go – that judgmental Superego. Kate, D/s the way we will practice it is safe, sane, and most of all, consensual. That's not just a slogan. I believe it. D/s is not illegal, it's not damaging. It doesn't diminish you in any way. If you sign the contract, we'll have lots of mind-blowing sex in the way that really appeals to us both and you'll sleep really well at night when we part." He forked a piece of strawberry and popped it in his mouth, chewing briefly. "Simple."

  I took a drink of water, needing something to distract me from that look of certainty on his face.

  We finished the dessert and he described his band members, how often they played and how their gigs at small venues kept him busy most nights. But he had a few open slots a week and would like to see me on those nights, either at his place or mine.

  "But tonight, I want to come to your place so I can see who you are when you're not with your family."

  "I don’t know…" I was incredibly aroused, but I was also incredibly afraid.

  "If you want, no sex tonight. Just talk. We can go over my personal limits and discuss yours. No touching and no sex unless you initiate it."

  "And if I sign an agreement? How much say do I get in what happens between us?"

  "When we're together? Sexually? None. The purpose of the agreement is for you to give that power over to me to decide what happens. The only out you have is your safe word, but once you use it, that's it. We stop. Full stop. So don't use it unless you really mean it. Don't use it unless what's happening is too much for you to bear. At first, you can use 'yellow' as a sign you need to slow down or pause. Red will be only for full stop, and once we're over the initial training. A submissive enjoys some uncertainty, because it's arousing. But real fear and bad pain? That's when you use your safe word. Other than that, other than your hard limits, you leave everything up to me. What, how, when, where, how often."

  "I shouldn't need a safe word, Drake, if all we're going to do is fuck. Remember – no pain."

  "I told you I'm not a sadist. But sex can get intense. Bondage scenes can get intense. I'm not into pain, but a binding can accidentally get too tight, or you can be emotionally overwhelmed. I will punish you if you misbehave. Sometimes, punishment can be too intense."

  "What kind of punishment?"

  "We'll have to negotiate that."

  "Lara said you'd likely spank me."

  He smiled. "Does that upset you?"

  "I'm not a child."

  "Spanking is merely to reinforce dominance. It's not supposed to be about hurting you."

  "How can it not hurt?"

  "It won't hurt too much, then."

  "How do you know what too much is?"

  "I'll show you. You'll tell me. I'll stop at that point."

  I shrank in my seat, disheartened. I didn't want any spanking.

  "Look, Kate, hopefully, if I do this right, you'll never need to use a safe word but it's there just in case."

  "I don't know about the spanking part," I said. "We're going to have to talk about that."

  "We will," he said, and stroked my cheek. "I won't go too far for you. I want this. I don't want to make a mistake with you."

  I sighed. "You won't push me tonight?"

  He grinned, his expression mischievous. "I won't push. Much. But you have to know that I want you." He leaned forward. "I want to fuck you tonight. I'd love to tie you up and have my way with you, but I know it's too soon. You need to trust me before you can give over your power willingly. But a kiss goodnight would be nice." His blue eyes twinkled.

  "I'll consider it."

  He paid the check and stood, helped me out of the booth and then escorted me to the coat check. He wrapped my coat around my shoulders, taking the opportunity to nuzzle my neck. And I thought – that was Drake. Constantly reminding me that he wanted me and found me desirable. It was, he was, irresistible.

  CHAPTER NINE

  We drove to my apartment building and the talk was light, of the upcoming election my dad was hoping to win, of Drake's busy schedule practicing with his band. I was still undecided as to whether I'd invite him in. Part of me wanted to. Part of me wanted him to push me, to see how much I could feel just having 'vanilla' sex with him.

  Part of me was scared to death.

  We walked up the steps to the building's entry and stopped. He stood too close to me, of course, probably hoping to influence me with his animal magnetism. I glanced up in his eyes and he just waited, his eyes half-hooded, the slightest hint of a smile on his mouth. Finally, he sighed.

  "Kate, invite me in. Trust me. I won't risk anything with you, given who you are and who your father is."

  "You won't touch me?"

  He bent down and tipped my chin up with a finger. "I may touch you, but I won't force you to do anything. I don't rape women, Kate. I don't like real resistance. Only the fun kind. The play kind."

  "We won't have sex, Drake. I'm not like that. I don't have sex on a first date."

  "I know."

  "I'm serious. No sex. I'll think about the goodnight kiss."

  I glanced at my cell phone to see what time it was.

  "Why don't you call Lara and let her know I'm coming into your apartment. Tell her you'll call her in an hour and if you don't call, she should take action. That way, you'll feel safe."

  I dialed Lara's cell. It rang three times before she answered.

  "Kate, what's up?"

  "I'm standing on the front step of my building with Drake. He wants to come in and just talk, and suggested that I call you so you know I'm alone with him. That I'll call you in an hour to let you know things are OK."

  "That's good, Kate. By all means, go ahead. Invite him in. I have complete trust in him to keep his word. Call me in an hour. If you don't, I'll bring Bruno and come right over. Tell Drake that, although I know I won't need to."

  I turned to Drake. "Lara said if I don't call in an hour, she'll bring Bruno over."

  Drake laughed at that, his eyes merry. He took my hand and leaned down to the cell. "Oh, you're threatening to use the heavy artillery. You've never had to use Bruno with me yet and won't have to tonight."

  I
pulled the cell back to my ear and heard laughter on the other end. "Have fun, Kate, and relax. You're in very good hands, and I mean good. You can trust Drake. Call me in an hour."

  "Thanks, Lara."

  I ended the call and exhaled heavily. "Who's Bruno?"

  "Her Rottweiler."

  Even I laughed at that. "Come on up."

  As we climbed the stairs, I wondered if I should let him in. I didn't really believe I would, and adrenaline jolted through me because this meant it wasn't completely out of the question that we'd have sex. He promised not to force me, but I knew he'd try to seduce me. He'd seduce me with his words and with his touch. In the back of my mind, I realized I let him in because I wanted what happened between us at the concert hall to continue. I liked his touch. I wanted him to touch me. I just wasn't sure about the sex part. That was too intimate, and we weren't intimate enough yet for me to let him in.

  He followed me up the stairs to my third floor apartment, and we stopped at my door while I fumbled in my bag for my keys, muttering to myself about how big it was and how I always lost my keys at the bottom. Just nervous chatter. In the time before I found them, Mrs. Kropotkin opened her door a crack and peered out at us. Drake turned to her and smiled.

  "Zdrastvooyte."

  She closed her door.

  "Did you study Russian in college?" I asked, my voice a bit quivery.

  "My father had a cassette tape with Russian lessons on it and I used to listen as a kid." He cleared his throat because his own voice was husky. "I don’t really speak Russian well. Just enough to order in a restaurant or make a few toasts."

  I had to take in a few deep breaths to get control over myself. Finally, I wrestled the lock open and stepped inside, turning and blocking the doorway before he could enter.

  "You'll keep your promise to just talk? No sex?"

  He held his hands up, palms out as if to signal surrender. "Kate, it's up to you. You'll be the one to decide what happens. Whatever you want."

  "We're not having sex. Tell me you understand."

  "I understand."

  I stood in the doorway for a moment, deciding, my hands on the door, Drake outside. I didn't want this night to end. I wanted him to come in and touch me. I was just afraid.