The Devil's Contract

by Claire Contreras

  Amara looked into Courtney’s serious eyes and knew she wasn’t bluffing. She let out a slew of curse words under her breath and begrudgingly tried to straddle the chair more comfortably.

  “Good girl. Don’t move,” Courtney shot over her shoulder as she sauntered out of the room.

  Amara exhaled heavily and folded her hands over the back of the seat to rest her head while Courtney was gone. She closed her eyes momentarily before she heard Courtney come back in. She had lit candles in her hands, which she set down by the door and crossed the room to Amara. Courtney pulled a blindfold out of her pocket and looked at the ceiling.

  “I think you’re in a good spot,” she said. “Get up for a second.”

  Amara did and watched Courtney stand up on the chair and pull on a little hook on the ceiling that Amara had never noticed. It pulled a piece down, like a little compartment, and out of it, Courtney took out a knotted rope. She pulled it until the rope hit the bottom of the chair, then hopped off and told Amara to sit back down. Amara sat, hesitantly, as she watched Courtney ravel the rope on her hand.

  “I’ll put this on first then blindfold you, so you can see how this works. Consider yourself lucky. The first time this was done to me, I had been whipped; my nipples had been zapped with a taser, and I had a very quick and frightening welcome to the world of BDSM with asphyxiation. Trust me. This right here, is Little League shit.”

  “How did you... oh my... I mean... why...” Amara couldn’t find the right words to ask or form a coherent sentence. She was completely stunned. “Here in Méchant?” she finally asked.

  Courtney shook her head slowly as a sad smile splayed on her beautiful face. “No. Somewhere nothing like this. Méchant was a dream come true for me when I got here. A saving grace. Philip was my knight in shining armor,” she said with a chuckle.

  “Okay. Let’s get this over with then,” Amara said, taking a deep breath and holding her hands out to Courtney.

  Courtney smiled. “That’s my girl.”

  Amara watched, entranced, as Courtney placed Amara’s hands through the loop of the knot and pulled it. She yanked the rope, and it pulled a little. Yanked more, and it pulled again, disappearing into the ceiling. Courtney pulled it until Amara’s body was completely stretched, until her ass was no longer on the chair. Her thighs were clenching to the sides of the wooden chair for support, and effectively kept her thighs open. She looked like a cat in heat, begging for attention.

  “Does it hurt?”

  Amara shook her head between her arms. “Not really. It’s not comfortable or anything though.”

  “Good. It’s not supposed to be.”

  Courtney walked behind Amara and squeezed the blindfold through the space between her head and arms to cover her eyes. She tightened it enough so that no light seeped in, and Amara was left in complete darkness.

  She felt Courtney walk away before she began paying attention to the sound of her bare feet against the hardwood. Amara tried to adjust herself to not feel the bite of the ropes, but found that the more she moved, the more it hurt. In the end, she sat still, her thighs clutching the chair so that she couldn’t slip, her butt barely touching the seat, and her hands holding on to the rope through the hole.

  “I’ll be right back,” Courtney said.

  “Courtney!”

  “Chloe, Jasmine. CHLOE,” she shouted.

  Amara shut her eyes tighter under the blindfold. “Chloe, don’t leave. Please,” Amara whimpered. Anybody could walk in if the door was open. Vivienne, Thelma, Philip, and she didn’t want to think about a stranger going in there and seeing her in such a vulnerable state. Amara started to panic and pull the rope.

  “Your instinct is going to tell you to pull—that you need to fight it. This is about self control. I’m only going to get something in my room. I swear I’ll be back in one second. I’ll close the door. Please don’t pull the rope, you’ll hurt your hand,” Courtney said. She was standing beside Amara. “Listen to me, you have to get used to your surroundings when your eyes are closed. Listen. Listen. You need to learn to trust me, not your instinct. Pulling the rope is your instinct talking to you, not me. If you listen to me, you’ll be fine. If you listen to your instincts, you’ll end up hurt, and in deep shit. Okay?”

  A dark panic began to close in on Amara, but she nodded as she tried miserably to steady her breath.

  “Amara,” Courtney said, close to Amara’s ear. “Trust me on this, please. I know what I’m doing. I would never endanger you. Ever. I was in your position once. I just want to help you. Philip is going to be watching us. Maybe he’ll walk in and see how you’re doing. You need to put determination on that beautiful face of yours and let him know that you’re your own boss. Not him. Can you do that for me?”

  Amara breathed heavily once, twice, three times. “Yes.”

  “Good.” Then her lips landed on Amara’s, and her tongue shoved into her mouth, swirling around hers in a slow tango. When Courtney backed away, Amara let out a breath. She focused on the patter of Courtney’s feet as she walked away from her and closed her eyes to calm herself down. This was a mind game, and Amara was determined to win.

  It wasn’t long before Amara heard the door creak open again and heard Courtney’s light steps against the hardwood floor.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “We’re going to try something, just to see how far we can push you okay? If you want me to stop, just tell me.”

  She heard the seriousness in Courtney’s voice and nodded, or tried to. “Yeah.”

  Suddenly she felt something cold rubbing up and down the inside of her thighs. Amara stilled, clenching her butt cheeks on instinct.

  “Shhh... relax. It’s just a vibrator.”

  Amara let out a long shaky breath. Just a vibrator. She repeated that to herself as she felt the smooth, bullet shape slide along the lining of her panties. She bit down on her bottom lip until her mouth tasted like iron, trying to keep her inner thighs from moving against the chair beneath her.

  “Don’t think. Just feel, but not too much, you want to be in control of your arms,” Courtney said.

  “Okay.”

  Amara gasped when she felt the cool vibrator slide through her folds and push inside of her. Her arms writhed and pulled against the ropes. Control, she thought. She inhaled a sharp breath as Courtney switched it on. It began to vibrate as she slid it out and around her sensitive areas, repeating the motion. Amara focused on her breathing and shut her eyes tightly under the blindfold. She pictured herself on an island. She was sitting on blinding white sand, looking into Colin’s beautiful brown and gold speckled eyes as the water swooshed in waves behind her.

  His smiling eyes were hooded as she rode him slowly, clutching the muscles of his shoulders. The feel of him stretching her, kneading her breasts and plucking her nipples made her head fall back as a climax built and spread through her, exploding her from the inside out. Amara was still catching her breath as she felt her arms being lowered. Her eyes were unwrapped from the blindfold, and she squinted, unable to focus on her surroundings despite the dim lighting. She wanted to cry as her reality faced her once more. She was still in Méchant, and still Colin-less.

  “That wasn’t so bad, right?” Courtney asked, picking up her arms to examine her wrists. “You pulled too hard in the beginning, but you totally let go in the end.”

  Amara rubbed her pink wrists with her thumbs, trying to erase the memory of the rope. She blinked rapidly as her vision cleared, looking at the yellow halo of Courtney’s blonde hair.

  “It took me a while,” she croaked.

  “What were you thinking about... when you stopped fighting?”

  Amara cleared her throat and looked away.

  “Colin?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered.

  “He’s your safety blanket,” Courtney said softly as she smoothed Amara’s hair.

  Her eyes snapped to Courtney’s blue eyes.

  Courtne
y smiled. “He’s who you think about when times get tough. Our minds always go back to a safe place.”

  Amara nodded slowly, knowing her mind would always go to Colin.

  AMARA FELL ON to the bed and turned on her computer. She was expecting to find an email from Nolan, but didn’t. When would he tell her he was planning to see her? She wanted to write to him and ask him, but knew she shouldn’t. They weren’t pen pals. He was exactly like every other creep that contacted the agency. They all wanted the same thing—attention and ass. Nolan was no better than the perverts that asked for her panties or photos of her breasts in a see-through bra. Amara needed to remember that.

  She let out a breath and looked around the room. She was exhausted, but after her little session with Courtney, she didn’t feel like she could go to sleep. Wondering if her uncle Vlady emailed her any updates on her mom, she sighed again and opened up her personal account. She hadn’t checked that one in quite a long time, and she figured she might as well. As she scrolled, Amara’s eyes caught one from Colin. Her breathing stilled as she clicked on it. It was sent two weeks ago. Amara looked at the long email and contemplated it. It wouldn’t help her heart heal if she let him continue to shred it with the reminder of him, but it was too torturous not to know what he wanted to say to her.

  To: Amara Maloof

  From: Colin O. Wolfe

  Subject: For the hell of it

  I don’t know if you’ll get this, and if you do, who knows if you’ll open it, but I figured I would try. You disconnected your phone. I tried calling you a couple of times but couldn’t get through. It was probably for the best since I was drunk dialing. I can’t help but think that you did it to shut me out of your life for good. That’s fine. I’m over it. I’m writing this because I need closure. I need to move on. I can’t keep frequenting the places we used to go together in hopes to catch a glimpse of a person who’s no longer here (and no longer wants to be here). I love you, Amara. I’ve loved you for a long time. I should’ve told you sooner, or not at all. I can’t decide what would have been better. Either way, I won’t dwell on it any longer. Some stuff has come up in my life, and I can’t stay stuck on this even if I wanted to. I’m writing to tell you things that I need to get off my chest. Somebody told me I should put everything in a balloon and let it fly away, let it go that way. I think that’s a stupid idea. Things don’t just disappear. This email won’t ever disappear, which is why I’m writing it. I think I need a reminder. I need to have proof of ways you’ve wronged me (some not intentionally), so that I can come back to this when I need a reason to hate you again. I’ll warn you in advance (if you do indeed decide to open this), this is going to hurt you too.

  In no particular order, my reasons why I hate Amara Maloof...

  1. My father died two days ago. Heart attack. Guess who’s not here to help me cope?... You.

  2. I drank myself to oblivion for a month straight after you left. Ended up in the hospital once. Almost got a DUI (but thankfully we know people).

  3. I met a woman. Treated her like shit, since you left her to pick up the pieces of my broken heart. She’s stuck with me, but she’s not you.

  4. You didn’t give me a chance to fight for you. I would have fought for you, Amara. I would have gone to the ends of the earth for you.

  5. You threw us away.

  6. You broke me.

  7. You broke us.

  8. Last but definitely not least, I’m supposed to get married this year, Amara. Not by choice, and it won’t be you.

  9. Every time I close my eyes, you’re what I see. Every time I sleep with a woman, you’re all I want to feel.

  10. I love you. And I’ll continue to love you for the rest of my life, regardless of whom I buy a house with, marry, or have children with. They’ll always get the short end of the bargain because they’ll forever be compared to you. Because none of them can be you. Because you, Amara, were the one for me. And you fucked it all up.

  I love you more than the stars. More than the motherfucking stars. Even though I wish the opposite. What I hate most of all is that I have to work at it to hate you, because my love for you is infinite. It’s unconditional. It’s everything.

  I hope you’re finding happiness.

  -Colin

  As she finished reading, Amara’s trickle of tears became oceans. Her muted weeps became wails. Thelma, Vivienne, Philip, and Courtney all rushed into her room, looking around frantically, probably thinking somebody was murdering her, and they would have been right to think that. Colin’s words felt like poison to her heart.

  “I have to go home. I can’t be around anyone tonight,” Amara sobbed, panting and sniffling as she looked at the group standing dumbly in her room. They all wore the same expression on their faces: confusion.

  “What the fuck happened?” Courtney finally asked, rushing to Amara’s side and holding on to the side of her face to keep her eyes on hers.

  “I can’t. I just can’t. Oh my God, my heart,” Amara wailed, clutching on to her chest.

  “Your heart?” Philip asked, confused, until he realized that she didn’t need a hospital and scoffed, shaking his head. “This is about your boy? What did we tell you about communication?” he asked in a disgusted tone.

  “I was checking my email for the first time since I got here! We haven’t communicated!” Amara said with a mixture of pain and anger.

  “I warned you,” Philip said, making a sound of disapproval with his tongue and the roof of his mouth. “Now look at you. The show must go on. Chloe, ma chére, make sure your friend looks presentable for tonight.”

  “The saving grace will be that blindfold,” Vivienne chimed in.

  “I can’t!” Amara shouted, searing them with her eyes. Everybody stared at her, Vivienne and Philip both blankly, Thelma in confusion, and Courtney with pity in her eyes. They stood there for a moment longer until turning and walking out together, leaving only Courtney and Amara in the room.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Courtney whispered, running her hand through Amara’s hair.

  Amara shook her head. “He hates me. His dad died, and I can’t even be there for him. And he moved on,” Amara said, whimpering. “He has... he has a girlfriend or something. And he said something about getting married. Oh my God, Court, I lost him. I really lost him.”

  Courtney hugged Amara close to her, tucking her face into the crook of her neck and soothing her back as she made comforting sounds. “I’m so sorry, Mara,” she whispered. “You can’t lose love, though, honey... even if you no longer have him, you can’t say you lost him.”

  “You’re right,” Amara said, pulling away as her lip trembled. “I didn’t lose him. I threw him away.”

  Courtney gave her a sad smile. “You’re going to be okay. Do you want a drink? We’re not supposed to drink more than two on the day we do a scene, but—“

  “I want to forget. Everything. I just want to forget,” Amara said, pleading.

  Courtney took a deep breath. “We’re not going down that road. You’re not going to use things to forget him.”

  Amara whimpered in response.

  “I’m serious. I won’t let you become one of those women that walk around numbing themselves from pain. All these women here —the rest of them, myself included —we use sex as our escape. I won’t let you do that to yourself. It’s too lonely. Take your pain and use it —that’s what it’s there for. Fuck everybody else. Well, not literally. Not today anyway,” she added with a chuckle. “But seriously, fuck them. You’re a strong woman. A beautiful, strong woman with a lot of pain, and a lot of anger. Channel it. Use it when that client comes in.” She kissed the top of Amara’s head and left the room.

  Amara decided to read the email one last time before she showered the memories away. Then, she responded. Her idea was to write it out and erase it before hitting send, but her finger clicked the button before she had time to regret it.

  To: Colin O. Wolfe

  From: Amara Maloof


  Subject: Sorry

  I am so sorry for your loss. I wish I had found out sooner.

  I can’t find my happiness. I seem to have left it behind. I think I’m too busy being yours to find anybody else anyway.

  I hope you’re happy with her. I won’t bother you again.

  I love you too. More than the stars.

  X.

  As soon as she sent it, she deleted her email account. The temptation of constantly checking it would be too great if she left it open. Colin deserved to move on without her, as much as it killed her.

  “Why did you delete the account?” Courtney asked her later that night. “You know Philip just doesn’t want you airing out his dirty laundry, right? He’ll be pissed if you and Colin communicate, but he’ll get over it.”

  Amara shook her head. “Philip is right. This is no place for a relationship. Colin would murder me if I led him on, and then he found out I was working in a place like this.” Amara shivered involuntarily. “I don’t want to even think about it. Whatever, let him move on with that stupid whore,” Amara grumbled as tears spilled out of her eyes. She tried to ignore the pang in her chest as she said the words—tried to blink away the fresh tears that continued to form, but nothing mattered. It didn’t hurt any less.

  “Stupid whores... I hate them. Why are they always taking away our men? And why are men so fucking stupid and falling for those bitches anyway?” Courtney said with a groan and a small smile.

  A sad smile formed on Amara’s face. “He was the one, Court. I may have tried to fight it —I may have set boundaries because of this whole mess—but there was never a doubt in my mind... he was always the one.”

  “I’m sorry,” Courtney said, pulling Amara into a hug.

  Amara let herself cry until she felt that she was over her tears. She straightened, wiped her face, and took a deep breath.

  “No more tears. I have to call my mom. I wonder if she’s found out about Colin’s dad.”

  Courtney nodded and stood up. “I’m going to see if I can cancel tonight’s sessions. We can go get ice cream and just be normal for a little while.”