Contract Broken (Contracted #2)

by Aya DeAniege

  That was what was familiar about his kiss. It was how Nathaniel kissed, but not quite. Like Mr. Wrightworth was trying to learn how to imitate that kiss, but hadn’t had enough practice yet.

  I swayed as Mr. Wrightworth pulled away and took the plates from me. I leaned heavily on the counter, trying to catch my breath and wrap my head around the idea.

  One day Mr. Wrightworth kissed one way. Then he kissed a great deal more like Nathaniel. How, why? A million things went through my mind as Mr. Wrightworth placed food on both of the plates.

  When he turned to me, I put a hand to my lips and stared at him.

  “Why?” I asked.

  Why the sudden change?

  “You didn’t hurt me. I wanted to make that clear,” he said. “It was a strange sensation, like a tickling. I’m not ticklish.”

  “Oh,” I said weakly but gave my head a shake.

  “What?” he sighed, holding a plate out to me.

  “You kiss differently than you did before,” I managed to get out, taking the plate.

  Mr. Wrightworth smiled and walked into the dining room with his food. I stood still for another moment before I rushed after him. We sat and ate in silent, then Mr. Wrightworth stood and took the dishes away. He returned and sat across from me.

  He hadn’t specified when or how the play session would begin, only that it would happen. I took my lead from him and tried to relax as I waited.

  “As to the kiss,” Mr. Wrightworth said. “I noticed your lackluster response to my last kiss and chose to practice. Nicole suggested it, and she is typically correct about this sort of thing. I think we can both agree that Nicole, of all people, knows how to pleasure not only herself but other women.”

  “I haven’t seen her with other women, so I’ll take your word on it.”

  “Was it better?”

  “It was...” I struggled to find an appropriate word. “Familiar.”

  Mr. Wrightworth’s mouth opened slightly, then snapped shut. He frowned ever so slightly as he studied me sitting across from him.

  “We are not permitted to talk about him.”

  “I’m not trying to talk about him, but, well, obviously that’s something you didn’t teach Nathaniel,” I said, then made a face. “Sorry, that wasn’t nice of me to say.”

  “No, he’s always had a natural talent for kissing,” Mr. Wrightworth grumbled.

  Actually grumbled. There was an irritability to that grumble that startled me into a long moment of silence.

  I blinked back at him, watching how the man was suddenly uncomfortable.

  “Oh my God, you’ve kissed him too?” I asked.

  “Yes, I kissed him.”

  “You two are so complicated,” I muttered.

  “You kiss during play,” Mr. Wrightworth said, then his face twisted ever so slightly, and he added, “And during threesomes. It’s a part of sex.”

  “I get that,” I said. “It’s more of, you kissed him, and you’ve not found anyone else who kisses like him. Damn, that’s not a good sign. You’ve probably kissed a lot of people. I like the way he kisses.”

  “I’d say you like a great deal more than just the way he kisses,” Mr. Wrightworth said. “It’s been almost three months. No one has mentioned him to you, but you keep bringing him up.”

  Panic started to overwhelm me. What if he had moved on? What if Nathaniel already had another sub?

  What if he didn’t even remember my name?

  “Is this the talk where you tell me I need to not bring him up?” I asked. “Because technically I didn’t bring him up, you did.”

  “It’s not a bad thing that you ask about him. People just think it odd.”

  “People meaning...”

  “Your therapist, so many others who are involved in your case. They tell me I should be worried about your mental health, so I’ve chosen to worry.”

  “How do I be healthier then?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” he muttered. “You obviously still see him in everything. If I meant to become your Dom, your one, and only Master, I would think that you couldn’t submit to me because obviously you are still submitting to him. The whole reason we didn’t just wait and pass you off to Nicole for rehabilitation was that we didn’t think you’d accept her.”

  “Nathaniel said you were the addendum,” I said, thinking on that for a moment. “Do you think I’m still following the contract because that was the only thing that could have saved me?”

  “Maybe, I also think it’s absolutely adorable,” Mr. Wrightworth said with a small smile. “From a legal standpoint, what you’re doing is perfect. You’re following all the verbal commandments of the contract and as long as you are, at the end of the review you would be paid handsomely no matter the outcome.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “If ... if it comes to the end and Nathaniel is found at fault, in breach of contract, or doesn’t want to continue the contract, you would be paid an amount that would depend on time served, services rendered and if you followed the contract. Time here at the Program building counts towards time served. If it comes down to it and he is found not to be at fault and chooses to keep the contract, the Program would pay him in some way for the inconvenience.”

  “Wouldn’t it be in his interest to continue the contract, then?” I asked.

  “Monetarily I suppose,” Mr. Wrightworth said. “He’s never been one to do something for the money, however.”

  “This not knowing drives me nuts. Does he want me or doesn’t he? Am I carrying a torch for someone who’s already moved on?”

  “Ah,” Mr. Wrightworth said. “That’s a typical woman response, I think. You’ll have to simply make do. Breaking the rules is not suggested.”

  “I know I need to just suck it up.”

  “I didn’t say suck it up, Darling. I said make do. The part of that which I don’t like is that you are making do with me.”

  “I don’t know what I could say to that since tonight is supposed to be our first play session,” I said. “I mean, come on. Nathaniel was attracted to me. Even if he didn’t make that clear right away, he was attracted to women, so I knew there was that possibility. Then I started thinking about him doing it to me because I sexualized him.

  “You were off limits basically, and you’ve helped me, probably a lot more than I realize. But so far you’ve said you’d do something and didn’t do it.”

  “Fair enough, but I’d counter with, I promised one thing and didn’t do it right away. There’s still plenty of time tonight to play.”

  “I know that. But like, I don’t know how to even say it,” I hesitated and thought, then adjusted in my seat. “You know I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks. You stated that you were looking forward to it for weeks and now that it’s come time, we’re sitting in your dining room talking instead of playing.

  “On the one hand, as you said, it’s never too late to withdraw consent, but if you’re withdrawing consent, just do it, so I know, don’t drag your feet.

  “On the other hand, if a play session makes you hesitate, what would you do if it came to the point that I was begging for it? I’m no expert, but denying a woman who doesn’t beg, when she finally does, doesn’t seem like a good way to enforce appropriate behaviour.”

  “I’m not stalling to drag my feet, nor do I plan to withdraw consent,” Mr. Wrightworth said.

  “Then why are we sitting in the dining room?” I asked.

  “Waiting for you to initiate play,” Mr. Wrightworth said, smiling slowly.

  “You didn’t tell me to initiate play. Or how to.”

  “That’s not the point,” Mr. Wrightworth said. “The point was to sit here and not to bring it up until you did. I wanted to make absolutely certain that you were willing to go forward with this. I’ve been sitting here giving you time to withdraw and leave.”

  A heat bloomed in my belly. Every part of me seemed to shiver at the same time. There seemed to be a flood of heat between my le
gs. Knowing that he was giving me every opportunity to back out seemed to make everything all the more exciting.

  I shuddered again as Mr. Wrightworth stood. He pushed his chair in all proper like, then looked at me as his one hand sat on the back of his chair. The other dropped to his side, thumb rubbing over his forefinger and middle finger.

  “Perhaps we should move to the playroom,” Mr. Wrightworth murmured.

  “Yes, Master,” I said, unable to keep the tremble from my voice.

  Chapter Nine

  Mr. Wrightworth led me to the playroom and closed the door behind us. I watched as he slid a bolt into the door, higher than I could reach even if I stood on tiptoe.

  Stupid being short.

  He had added the bolt after my attempted escape the first night. There were enough questions about our relationship as it was, without my running away again.

  Seeing the bolt didn’t disturb me in the least. I trusted him to let me out of the room when the time came. There were times when I caught myself looking around for items that I could use to either reach the bolt or stand on to reach with my hands.

  By the door, Mr. Wrightworth had placed a little pink caddy with several items. Those items were used for cleanup or during. They included a small bottle of lotion, lubrication, and even a bottle of hand sanitizer.

  “At some point, I will leave that unlocked,” Mr. Wrightworth said, looking over his shoulder to the bolt. “Not tonight, but one night. When it is unlocked, I will expect you to call ‘blue,’ which we will pretend is your safe word. Then you will make for the door. If you make it, you win. If I catch you, I win and can do as I please with any part of your body.”

  A chill swept through me. From my head, right down to my toes. I wondered if Mr. Wrightworth knew what those words did to me. As I met his eyes, I knew. He also knew that I would be afraid of what he wanted to do with ‘any part’ of my body and that the fear would make me fight harder.

  He wanted a fight.

  I swallowed and nodded, then looked away.

  “Not tonight, though, tonight is about you,” Mr. Wrightworth purred out. “Begin.”

  “Wait, does the safe word still work for,” I motioned to the door behind Mr. Wrightworth, meaning to ask if the safe word would work for that little scenario.

  “There is no scenario when the safe word doesn’t work,” Mr. Wrightworth said, sounding mildly confused as to why I would ask that question.

  My dress was off in an instant. The underwear would have followed, had he asked for them as well. Mr. Wrightworth watched as I knelt and presented myself to him. The face down position that Nicole had taught me so long ago in the church.

  I hadn’t done the position for anyone else. Nicole had seen it, of course, but I had been fully clothed. On the floor, face down with my backside in the air, I could feel the curling feeling in my stomach. I adjusted, aware of the way my satin underwear shifted with me.

  Aware of how much I needed to be touched.

  It felt so marvellous to kneel.

  Mr. Wrightworth walked around me, looking me over in silence. The quiet dragged out as anticipation mounted. There had been no timeline placed on the play. He could have kept me like that for hours before he started the part of the play that I was craving.

  “Still no to the plug?” he asked. “Because I desperately want to put something inside of you.”

  I considered as Mr. Wrightworth walked away. I did consider, and I turned it over in my mind as he returned and crouched down by my head, holding the item out. It wasn’t even large, which I couldn’t recall him mentioning before. Not even close to large. Not even close to the size of the average man.

  Looking at it, my thought was actually:

  Will I even know once it’s inside me?

  The point of it wasn’t to be overly large. It was a starter plug, something to start with, rather than immediately inserting something the size of the average man.

  Or Nathaniel...

  “It would please me,” Mr. Wrightworth purred out. “But you’ve every right to say no. I just need you to say it.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Well, maybe—wait, what did you say?”

  “Yes, Master, I want to please you,” I said, peering up at Mr. Wrightworth.

  The man’s mouth opened, then turned into a smile. “Call yellow if you want it out. If there is any irritation at all, let me know. It’s fairly common for those who are just starting out. It may only last a few minutes, and that’s fine.” As he spoke, Mr. Wrightworth moved away. I kept my head down, where it belonged in that position. My eyes were on the floor, and I didn’t see what he did before he walked back and behind me.

  “It’s not the first thing to be there,” I said, the gasped out as he inserted it.

  “I don’t appreciate bitterness,” he said, a hand rubbing over my hip before he pulled my underwear back up. “But I do understand you feeling comfortable enough to talk about that with me. Now shush and be a good sub.”

  He left me like that for several minutes, returning when I began moving my hips.

  “Irritation?” he asked.

  “Weird, like I can feel it suddenly,” I said.

  “That’s irritation, let me remove it,” he murmured.

  We used with the plug every time we played. Mr. Wrightworth instructed me on how to use the plug and had me place it myself, then withdraw. It reached the point that I didn’t even think about it. I linked the plug to play, and anything connected to play is just delightful.

  After removing it, Mr.Wrightworth placed the plug in the caddy by the door. All the items that entered me, or cut into my flesh in any fashion, went into that caddy. It was where Mr. Wrightworth placed all items that had to be cleaned and sterilized before the next use.

  He came around behind me, studying me for a moment. After another drawn out silence, Mr. Wrightworth walked around me, to the items hanging on the wall. I kept my eyes on the floor as he seemed to hum and haw over which he wanted.

  Mr. Wrightworth never hums and haws over anything unless he knows a sub is anticipating his choice. I didn’t dare look up at him, not wanting to end play before it began.

  “Ah,” he murmured, plucking an item off the wall.

  He returned to me and struck me on one side with a crop, causing me to jump and cry out.

  “Keep your voice down, or I will need to use a gag. Don’t need any more questions. High pitched whining annoys me anyhow.”

  “Please, Master, the other side?” I asked, adjusting my hips as I tried not to move.

  The second strike brought out a moan. He wasn’t striking me hard enough to hurt in the least. Mr. Wrightworth hit me several times in quick succession. Each strike brought out a squeak. Each was a little harder than the last. When I expected another strike, there was a long pause. I tingled with anticipation, biting my bottom lip as I tried not to make a sound. The crop slipped down my backside and between my legs, causing my breath to shudder out as it grazed over me.

  “I asked Nicole for some tips,” Mr. Wrightworth said, tapping the crop against my wet underwear. “She made it out to be that women are just lumps of sexual energy waiting for someone to caress and touch them. Is that true?”

  “Only if it’s you doing the touching, Master.”

  “That’s a perfect answer to my question,” Mr. Wrightworth purred out. “I want to tie you the way I have been, stand and move to the middle of the room.”

  I did as I was told. The man frowned at me as he stepped up to tie the manacles.

  From what I could tell, he hadn’t been looking at me as I stood. I had no idea why he would frown, but I knew it wasn’t a good thing to see his eyebrows draw downward.

  “I have to ask because I’m not familiar,” Mr. Wrightworth said, stepping back as he looked down, at my underwear.

  I twisted my hips, trying to hide the crotch of my underwear. He reached out and grabbed my hips, yanking me back as I yipped out. Mr. Wrightworth’s nails dug into my flesh as he
growled.

  “Can women really make their underwear that wet, or is it just you?” he asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Interesting,” Mr. Wrightworth murmured, releasing my hips. “You didn’t thank me for the crop.”

  I swore under my breath.

  “Because you haven’t been trained yet, I will let it go, but you will thank me.”

  “Every strike?” I asked.

  “When I pause,” he responded, walking off.

  Being chained to the ceiling allowed me to turn all the way around and see everything in the room. I turned slightly and watched as Mr. Wrightworth picked up the paddle. He had said he would use it on me—and he stuck very close to what he told me he would do—but when he had said he would spank me, I had hoped he was going to bend me over the spanking bench.

  Mr. Wrightworth returned and smiled at the look he saw on my face.

  “Oh, I know,” he said, his smile growing larger.

  And then he struck me with the paddle on the backside. It was long enough to hit both sides as one. He held nothing back. I cried out as my legs went out from under me. Mr. Wrightworth reached and dragged me back to my feet by my wrists, delivering another blow from the other side.

  Pain like that shouldn’t have felt so good. The biting sting of the wooden paddle flooded my body with pleasure I didn’t have words to describe.

  Mr. Wrightworth stepped in front of me as I panted, my mind reeling. He lifted my chin with the paddle.

  “Thank you, Master.”

  He smiled just slightly.

  I still struggled with the idea of it. He had hit me hard, perhaps not full force or I would have broken, but he wasn’t exactly holding back. Surely I should have been in actual pain, not clenching my teeth to prevent myself from begging for more.

  Mr. Wrightworth took the paddle and turned it sideways, sliding it between my legs. He pressed upward, bringing me to my tiptoes.

  “Move your hips,” he said.

  I did as he said, shivering at the pressure. Finally, there was a feeling against my sex, something to stimulate me. Feeling that edge coming up, I stopped. Mr. Wrightworth frowned and pulled away.