by Simply BWWM
“So, you’re worried about relapsing,” Bradley concluded. Jessica nodded.
“I don’t know how to tell you,” she said hesitantly.
“Just be completely open,” Bradley said. “I promise I won’t fire you on the spot or yell at you or anything.” Jessica looked at him doubtfully.
“You have been the most accommodating, kindest boss I’ve ever had,” she said. “But you’ve made it clear you have certain boundaries, and this...I think this would be beyond what you would be willing to hear about.”
“I am willing to hear about anything,” Bradley told her. “I’m just not necessarily willing to do anything.” Jessica hesitated for a moment longer, looking down at her hands.
“The things Drake did to me were just...revolting, a lot of them,” she said. She swallowed, and Bradley saw a tear slide down her cheek. He had learned not to become too alarmed at her crying--it was healthy, ultimately.
“If you don’t want to talk specifics, you don’t have to,” Bradley told her gently.
“I know,” Jessica said. “I feel like I need to give you some specifics, just...just so you’ll know kind of where I’m coming from.”
“Okay,” Bradley said. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“He...he found out early on that I was an addict,” Jessica said. “I didn’t really have a word for it at the time, but I guess I knew that there was something going on with me. But he knew it better than I did then. And so, he would convince me to do things like…” She took a breath. “Like participate in some kind of marathon fuck-fest with him and two of his friends for eight hours. Or find girls for a threesome or things like that. Things I don’t even want to think about having done.”
“Because you didn’t really want to do them?” Bradley wanted to be clear, but he also didn’t want to pry beyond what Jessica was willing to say.
“I didn’t want to, but it wasn’t exactly a rape situation,” she said. “It was like...like the only way I could get what I did want was to do what he wanted me to do, and so I did those things, because I needed the fix. And he kept pushing what I would be willing to do to get off.” She sighed.
“Okay,” Brad said. He gave her a few moments to regain her composure. “So, I’m assuming at some point, you cut him out of your life.” Jessica nodded.
“Before I even realized I needed treatment,” she said. “There are apparently some things I’m unwilling to do for a fix.” She laughed bitterly.
“That’s a good thing, you know,” Brad pointed out. Jessica smiled weakly.
“I know,” she said. “Anyway, I told him I never wanted to see him, hear from him, talk to him again and blocked him from my life, and I thought I was okay...but of course, it took me a while longer to figure out that it wasn’t some folie-a-deux situation. It was that I had a real problem.”
“Right,” Brad said, nodding. “So now, he’s coming back to haunt you, harassing you--and you’re afraid of relapsing.” Jessica pressed her lips together, and then caught up her bottom lip between her teeth. Bradley watched her consider how to say whatever it was she was going to say.
“There’s something...something about the way that he degraded me that just...sets me off,” she said. “Even though I’m revolted at the things he did to me--and made me do with him--there’s a part of me that still associates those kinds of things with getting off and getting a fix.” Bradley looked at Jessica with concern.
“What are you saying? I just want to be clear,” Bradley said, realizing how judgmental the initial tone of his voice had been. “I want to understand how I can help you.”
“I don’t know if you can,” Jessica replied. “I think it goes beyond your boundaries. You’ve made it clear that you refuse to degrade me and that…” She shrugged. “That’s why I said that it’s something you can’t help me with.”
“You are right that I refuse to degrade you,” Brad said. He looked at Jessica for a long moment, thinking.
“And so, if what I need is to have that...that need to be degraded filled, that itch scratched, then you can’t help me,” Jessica said. “I just have to figure out how to deal with it. And if I’m not working up to expectations…” Bradley shook his head.
“You’re working just fine,” he told her. “I’m concerned about you personally. As a human being and as a woman that I care about.” Jessica looked up from her hands and stared at him in shock.
“What are you saying?” Bradley smiled slowly.
“I like you,” he said. “I can’t say that I’m--strictly speaking--in love with you, but I like you, Jess. You’re an excellent assistant, you are amazing in bed, you are beautiful and charming and smart and funny and sweet.” He watched as Jessica blushed a deeper and deeper red.
“See, that’s why you can’t help me,” she said, shaking her head as more tears came. “You can’t do to me what my addiction keeps telling me I need someone to do to me.”
“I will not degrade you,” Bradley said, making his voice a little firmer. “But maybe--if you’re comfortable--you could tell me what you think you need, and we can discuss where to go from here.”
“You’ll think I’m the worst kind of shameless, disgusting slut,” Jessica protested. “And I am! That’s just it...I am a disgusting slut.” Bradley shook his head.
“You aren’t,” he told her firmly.
“I let a guy fuck me in the ass in a crowded parking lot so that he’d get me off,” Jessica said, almost spitting the words out. “I let him take pictures of me being railed from behind with my face drenched in cum. You can’t tell me I’m not a disgusting slut. I am. I’m…” She began to sob. “I’m a disgusting whore, and I should...I should probably just…” She crumpled in on herself, and her words trailed off into incoherent mumbles.
Bradley rose to his feet quickly and stepped around the coffee table to the seat Jessica had taken. He dropped down to his knees in front of her, and tilted her face up lightly, gently. Tears streamed down her face, but he could see the telltale flush in her cheeks as well--she had been reliving those moments, the addicted part of her mind savoring them. He leaned in and brushed his lips against the point of her chin, and carefully brushed away the tears sliding down from her eyes.
“You aren’t a disgusting whore and you’re not a slut,” Bradley told her. “You’re someone who was--and to some extent, still is--in the grips of an addiction. You did what you thought you had to do to feed that addiction. And when you realized what was wrong in your life, you got help. And you asked for help here when you needed it.”
“But what I need now...I know you can’t do that, you won’t,” she said, hiccupping slightly as sobs worked up from her diaphragm.
“I won’t degrade you,” Bradley told her. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t find an... outlet...for what you think you need.”
“An outlet?” Jessica looked at him with surprise and doubt in her eyes. Bradley brushed a few more tears away from her face, just below her eyes.
“I think that we can find a happy medium between what you think you need and what I’m willing to do,” Brad said carefully. He kissed her lightly on the lips again. “From what you’ve said--everything you’ve said--about your addiction, and how you act, and what you’ve done, I think what you’re really craving is the chance to lose yourself.” Jessica nodded.
“That’s the goal,” she said quietly. “To just sort of...shut my brain off, I guess. To hit that level of getting off where nothing in the world matters.” Brad smiled slightly.
“I think you can achieve that without going back to the other guy, or without taking on danger. I think we can make you feel that way right here, in the office--or even at my place. Or yours.”
“How the hell is that supposed to happen if you’re not willing to treat me like--”
“You won’t be a slut,” Bradley said, interrupting her. “And I’m not going to treat you like one. But what I can do is to create situations where you feel like you have to do what I say in orde
r to get off.” Jessica’s eyes widened.
“You’re willing to do that?” Bradley nodded.
“Again, to be clear: I am not going to treat you like some living fuck-toy,” he said. “But what I can--and will, if you want it--do is to take control of the situations in which you’re allowed to get off.” He licked his lips, meeting her gaze. “If you want to, I will make you jump through hoops in order to be able to get to come. I’ll punish you for not doing what I say. I will let you submit to me, if you can give me a promise that in submitting to me, you won’t seek out degradation elsewhere.” Brad let her absorb that.
“You...you would be basically my master?”
Brad considered that.
“In a sense,” he said. “Since you want to give up control, you can give up that control to me--if you want to. And we’ll do it safely. I’ll make you work for your orgasms. I’ll even make you beg for them. We can come up with a whole system--but I will never, ever physically degrade you or make you do something you don’t want to do. And if you do something that you don’t want to do in the hopes of forcing me to degrade you, to treat you as less than a human being, then this will stop, and I will encourage you to go back into treatment.”
He kissed her lightly on the cheek and brushed his lips along the line of her jaw to her ear. “I will make you beg me to fuck you, and spank you for being a bad girl, and give you what you need--but I will never view you as a piece of meat, Jessica.” He pulled back. “Is it a deal?”
“Yes,” Jessica said, and Bradley could see the hunger in her eyes--she wanted it to start right then. But he knew that it would have to be a separate meeting. They had work to do--and she was in a vulnerable state of mind just then.
“We’ll start slow,” Bradley said. “You can go into the bathroom and get yourself off--but only after we’ve finished going over everything for HR. And if that man harasses you, I expect you to forward everything to me--including the number he’s texting you from. Don’t reply to him, just forward it to me for now.” Jessica nodded.
“I can do that,” she said. Bradley smiled and rose to his feet.
“Now let’s get to work,” he said.
Chapter13
Jessica could feel every nerve in her body tingling as she went to the front door of her apartment, her heart beating faster. She had agreed to meet Bradley at her place to discuss their “new arrangement” in private, and to have their first “session.” He had wanted to do it outside of work, on what he called “her territory,” specifically so that she wouldn’t feel like she could justify giving in to anything she didn’t want--so that she would have the advantage of being able to tell him to leave.
There was a part of her mind--still entrenched in the need for a fix--that wanted to do just that, anyway; but she knew that after a few months of working for Bradley and having sex with him regularly, he knew when she was hedging. He could read her better than almost any other man she’d been with. Except Drake. But she wasn’t thinking about Drake--not anymore.
She’d done as she was told and forwarded the messages he sent to her to Brad, even when she hadn’t wanted to--even when they’d included pictures of her doing things she had committed herself to take with her to the grave. As a result, during the rest of their work week together, Brad had rewarded her by calling her into his office to have sex with him, and had given her permission to get herself off apart from that, as well.
He gave me permission… something inside of Jessica shivered in the most delicious way at that fact. There was something in her that loved the idea of giving in--completely and totally--to Brad. To letting him have the control over whether or not she came. And now, they were going to formalize that.
Brad stood on the other side of her door, his arms filled with a bouquet of flowers--dahlias--and a sack, along with a folder. “I am ready,” Bradley said, looking at her levelly. “If you want to back out…”
“No, I’m definitely ready too,” Jessica said. She let him into her apartment, and he smiled, leaning in to kiss her delicately on the cheek.
“First, the flowers,” he said, extending them towards her. “The bag after we talk.”
“Yes, sir,” Jessica said, trying it on for size--it felt good. Bradley smiled.
“Why don’t you go put those in some water, and I guess we can talk here in the living room?” Jessica nodded.
“I’ve got wine, too,” she said. “Or beer, if you prefer.”
“We should be completely sober when we discuss how this is going to work,” Bradley said gently. “But if you want, once we have the most important things out of the way, I’d love a glass of wine.” Jessica smiled and went into the kitchen, letting Bradley settle himself in the living room. She put the dahlias in water and retrieved the wine and a couple of glasses, to be ready for them later.
“Okay,” Jessica said, sitting down on the couch next to Bradley. “So, I guess...I’ll let you start?”
“I drew up this contract,” Bradley explained. “That we’re going to fill in with the details of what our boundaries are, what the consequences will be if we violate those boundaries -- all the terms and conditions of what we’re going to be doing together.” He opened the folder and pushed it along the coffee table towards her. “Everything in this is strictly voluntary. If we cancel this contract, you’ll still be my employee; we just won’t be doing specifically this anymore.”
“I understand,” Jessica said. She began looking over the pages that Bradley had prepared, mentally noting the spots where she would need to initial or sign. There were three pages devoted just to the different things that they could or would do together. There were spaces next to each one to designate it as something she absolutely didn’t want to do, as something she might want to do, or as something she definitely wanted to do--and with space for Bradley to do the same.
The contract outlined what he’d already told her: that it was separate from her employment, that either of them could back out at any time, that there would be consequences if boundaries already decided-on were violated, including the following entry.
If, for example, I discover that you are engaging in dangerous sex to feed your addiction, the consequence will be that this contract is null and void. If I discover that you deliberately encouraged me to do something you didn’t want in order to be degraded, there will be no sexual contact between us for two weeks, at which point there will be a discussion about how and whether or not we will have sex again.
The contract was comprehensive, outlining what the basic premise of their relationship would be, what the basic rules were during their “sessions,” everything that Jessica could have ever even thought of, and many things she hadn’t: safe words and safe gestures that would stop the session, gestures and words that would slow it down without stopping--which they each would pick out for themselves and share with the other, and write down on the contract--down to a space for agreement about which “punishments” would be doled out for which infractions, outside of the deal breakers and consequences for violating hard boundaries.
“Did you get a lawyer to draw this up for you or something?” Bradley grinned at her question as she finally came to the last page.
“A lawyer who is also a member of the kink community,” he confirmed. “I didn’t tell her why I needed it or who for--but she’s a very excellent dominatrix.” “You’ve worked with her?” Jessica wasn’t sure why she felt intimidated by that. Bradley shook his head.
“Just occasionally observed her,” he said. “She has a couple of subs who clean her house a few times a week.” Jessica shook her head in amazement at that.
“So, I guess this is where we discuss the particulars?” Bradley flipped to that section of the contract.
“It is, indeed,” he said. “I want you to be completely honest about the things we’re going to do together. I will be too.”
Jessica went through the list, reading over each item, with a pen in hand. There was a temptation in her mind to check off that
she was absolutely in favor of everything on it--but, she thought, it was almost certain that Bradley would reject that outcome. He wanted her to set boundaries. He wanted her to pick and choose what she actually liked, what she might like if he did it right, and what she never wanted to do. She took a deep breath and pushed the impulse to do what her addiction-addled self wanted.
Instead, she began marking the paper honestly. There were--indeed--some things that she had done before, and some she had never done, that she didn’t want to do. She came to the portion of the list that dealt with anal and hesitated. She thought about Drake taking her that way, about his friends doing it, and there was a part of her that was simultaneously revolted and intrigued and desirous and chilled.
But anal with Bradley would be an entirely different thing--wouldn’t it? She couldn’t imagine him threatening her, debasing her with the suggestion that he would go so far as to rape her anally if he wanted to. It would be an entirely different experience. Maybe. She added the notation to all the items in that section quickly and moved on before she could linger on it.
When she had finished, she thought--she hoped--that she had managed to be true to what she really wanted, while giving Bradley plenty of room to improvise. The items had already begun to turn her on, thinking about her boss doing them to her--spanking her, using various devices on her, making her ask permission to come, making her beg him to fuck her a particular way--all things that would require her to give up the final decision to him, at least in appearance. She could surrender her will to the man who had already shown that he respected her, that he wanted her safety, that he wanted to preserve her dignity as a person. That he liked her.
She handed the list to him and got to work initialing and signing the rest of the contract,
re-reading things to make sure she was doing what she should. Jessica could feel herself tingling with the electric knowledge that soon--soon--she would find out what was in the cloth bag that Bradley had brought to her house. That she would be giving up all control of the situation to him, giving herself to him, consciously, even if it was only for a few hours.
