Chapter 10 : Whiskey and a Signed Surrender

You sat across from me in that leather chair, legs spread, watching me stand in the doorway of your bedroom with a towel wrapped around my body. The steam from the shower still clung to my skin, and I could feel your eyes tracing every inch of me like you were memorizing a map you intended to use later.

"So," you said, swirling the whiskey in your glass. "Are you going to tell me what happened, or are you going to stand there dripping on my hardwood floors?"

I tightened the towel and let my blonde hair fall over one shoulder. "You already know what happened. You were there for most of it."

I want to hear you tell it." You took a slow sip. "Tell it all"

That was Drake. Always wanting the full picture, every detail laid out like blueprints. I should have hated him for it, but something about the way he demanded truth made me want to give it to him, even when the truth was hard to say out loud.

I dropped the towel.

His eyes moved over my body, my full D-cup breasts still pink from the hot water, the faint marks on my thighs and hips that hadn't quite faded yet. I watched his jaw tighten, and I felt that familiar heat building between my legs, the kind that only he could trigger with just a look.

"It started when I walked through your front door at six," I said, stepping closer. "You had someone meet me at the entrance. A woman I'd never seen before. She handed me a contract on a clipboard and told me to sign it."

"Did you read it?"

"No."

I stood between his knees now, close enough that he could have reached out and touched me, but he didn't. He just kept watching, waiting.

"The title said 'Voluntary Submission to Slavery Agreement.' I signed it anyway. She gave me a safe word and showed me to a room downstairs."

"Downstairs" was generous. It was a dungeon. Concrete floors, exposed beams overhead, and equipment bolted to every surface. St. Andrew's crosses, suspension rigs, spanking benches, a fucking machine mounted on a steel frame in the corner. The walls were lined with floggers, paddles, whips, and things I didn't have names for.

"The first session was forty-five minutes," I said. "A man I'd never met before. He was tall, maybe six-two, dark hair, built like he spent his life in a gym. He didn't say a word to me. He just pointed at the floor and I knelt."

Drake's hand finally moved, settling on my hip. His thumb traced the edge of a bruise, and I inhaled sharply.

"He started with his cock. Made me take it all the way down my throat, held my head there until I couldn't breathe, then pulled back just enough to let me gasp before doing it again. My eyes were watering, mascara running down my cheeks, and he just kept going. Face fucking me like my mouth was a toy built for his pleasure."

I felt Drake's fingers tighten on my hip.

"Then he bent me over a padded bench and strapped my wrists and ankles down with leather cuffs. Spread bars between my legs, forcing them wide apart. I couldn't move. I couldn't close my legs. He spanked me first, hard and fast, until my ass was burning and I was squirming against the restraints. Then he grabbed a paddle and really went to work."

"Did you use the safe word?" Drake asked.

"No."

He smiled. That dark, satisfied smile that made my stomach flip.

"The paddle turned my skin red, and then he switched to a flogger. The lashes stung across my back and thighs, and I was moaning by then, not from pain, well, not only from pain. There's this point where the pain turns into something else, something hot and electric that makes my pussy throb. He knew exactly where that point was."

I lowered myself onto Drake's lap, straddling him, feeling his erection pressing against me through his pants. He didn't stop me.

"When he finally fucked me, he didn't use a condom. He just shoved himself inside me, deep and hard, and I was so wet from the spanking that he slid in even though he was thick. He fucked me like that for a long time, pulling my hair, slapping my face when I got too loud, calling me things that would make most people walk out. I came twice before he pulled out and finished on my tits."

Drake's hand slid up my side, cupping my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple. I gasped and pressed myself closer to him.

"The second session was a woman," I continued, my voice getting breathless as Drake's hands explored me. "She was older, maybe thirty-five, and she knew exactly what she was doing. She put nipple clamps on me, the kind with the little chain, and every time she tugged it, I felt it straight down to my clit. She used a fucking machine on me, set it to a speed that had me screaming, and she wouldn't let me stop coming. Forced orgasms, one after another, until I was shaking and begging and she just held my legs open and watched."

"Good," Drake murmured against my neck, his lips brushing my skin.

"Session three was two men. They tag-teamed me for the full forty-five minutes. One in my mouth, one in my pussy, switching back and forth whenever they felt like it. The one behind me grabbed my hips and fucked me so hard I thought the bench was going to slide across the floor. When they were done, one came on my face and the other came inside me, deep, holding himself all the way in while he pulsed."

Drake bit down on my shoulder, and I whimpered, my nails digging into his shirt.

"The fourth session was one man, but he was rough. He wanted anal, and he didn't warm me up. He just bent me over a suspension rig and pushed in. I screamed. He didn't stop. He fucked my ass hard and deep, and I could feel every inch of him, the stretch and the burn and then this overwhelming fullness that made my whole body shake. He came inside me, an anal creampie, and when he pulled out, I could feel it dripping down my thighs."

"Then what?" Drake's voice was rough now, his breathing heavier.

"Session five was the one with three men. That was the one that broke me."

I paused, and Drake pulled back to look at me. His blue eyes were dark with hunger.

"Tell me," he said.

"They started with a spit roast. One in my mouth, one in my pussy, fucking me from both ends while the third watched and stroked himself. Then they shifted. One laid on the bench and they lowered me onto him, his cock in my pussy. The second got behind me and pushed into my ass. The third stood in front and made me suck him while the other two fucked me. Double penetration with a cock in my mouth. I was completely filled, completely used, and I came so hard I thought I was going to pass out."

Drake stood up suddenly, lifting me with him. He carried me to the bed and laid me down, his body covering mine. I could feel him hard and ready, and I spread my legs without being asked.

"Keep talking," he said, unzipping his pants.

"Session six was after the break. A man who liked bondage. He put me in suspension, rigged me up to the ceiling with ropes, my arms above my head, my legs spread wide, my whole body hanging in the air. He whipped me while I swung, the leather cracking across my breasts and stomach and thighs. Then he lowered me just enough to fuck me, still suspended, still bound, and I couldn't do anything except take it. He came on my pussy and then pushed back inside for a deep creampie finish."

Drake entered me in one hard thrust, and I cried out, wrapping my legs around his hips. He was big, and I was still tender from the night before, but the stretch felt incredible.

"Session seven," I gasped as he started moving. "A man who liked choking. He wrapped his hand around my throat and squeezed while he fucked me, cutting off my air until my vision went fuzzy, then releasing just as I came. He did it over and over. Severe choking, extreme pain, and orgasms that felt like they were going to tear me apart."

Drake's hand found my throat, and I moaned, my back arching off the bed.

"Session eight was another woman. She used a strap-on, bigger than most of the men had been, and she fucked me on the floor while pulling my hair and slapping my tits. She made me come three times before she was done with me."

Drake squeezed, and the world narrowed to the feeling of him inside me, his cock hitting deep with every thrust. I was close already, the combination of the memories and the real thing pushing me toward the edge.

"Session nine," I managed. "Two men again. One fucked my ass while the other used a vibrator on my clit. They made me come four times before they switched to double penetration. I was so stretched, so full, and they both came inside me at the same time. I could feel them pulsing, filling me up."

Drake released my throat and grabbed my hips, flipping me over onto my hands and knees. He entered me from behind, deeper in this position, and I buried my face in the pillow to muffle my scream.

"Last session," I said, my voice muffled. "One man. He used everything. Started with a butt plug, then replaced it with his cock. Fucked my ass until I came, then flipped me over and fucked my pussy. Pulled out and came all over my tits, then pushed back inside and kept going until he was hard again. Second time, he came inside me. Deep creampie, the kind where you can feel it for hours after."

Drake was pounding into me now, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to leave marks. I could feel another orgasm building, the pressure coiling tight in my belly.

"That's when you came in," I said. "You watched the last few minutes. You watched him finish inside me. And then you looked at me and said—"

"'You're mine now,'" Drake finished, his voice a growl.

He reached around and pressed his thumb against my clit, and I shattered. The orgasm ripped through me, my whole body clenching around him, and I heard him groan as he followed me over the edge, his cock throbbing inside me as he came.

We collapsed together on the bed, breathing hard, his arm draped over my waist. I could feel his heartbeat against my back, slowing gradually.

"So," he said after a long silence. "Lisa still has questions?"

I laughed, a breathless, shaky sound. "Lisa has a lot of questions. She heard things, saw things she doesn't understand. I talked to her this morning, but I wasn't exactly forthcoming."

"Are you going to tell her the truth?"

I rolled over to face him, tracing the line of his jaw with my finger. "Eventually. She knows something happened. She knows I went somewhere last night. But I told her just enough to keep her from worrying."

"She's going to find out eventually."

"I know. But after what I went through tonight, I don't think I'm up for a deep conversation today. She'll understand. She always does."

Drake kissed my forehead, then my nose, then my lips. "You know you're going to have to tell her about me eventually."

"I know."

"And about the contract."

"I know that too."

He pulled me closer, tucking my head under his chin. "You signed it without reading it."

"I trusted you."

"That was stupid."

"Maybe." I smiled against his chest. "But here I am."

"Here you are." His hand moved lazily down my spine. "Sore?"

"Extremely."

"Good."

I punched his shoulder, and he laughed, the sound vibrating through both of us.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I reached over and checked the screen. A text from Lisa.

"We need to talk. For real this time. Coffee tomorrow? I promise I won't judge."

I showed it to Drake. He raised an eyebrow.

"Your call," he said.

I typed back a response. "Coffee sounds good. But you might want to sit down for this one."

I put the phone down and nestled back into Drake's arms. Tomorrow I'd tell Lisa everything. The contract, the dungeon, the sessions, all of it. She'd probably look at me like I'd lost my mind, and then she'd probably ask if she could come next time, because that was Lisa. Always ready for the next adventure, always trusting me to bring her along safely.

But tonight, I was exactly where I wanted to be. Sore, exhausted, marked, and wrapped up in the arms of a man who had spent the evening watching other people use me and still wanted me in his bed when it was over.

"You know," I said, tracing patterns on his chest, "for a slavery contract, that wasn't half bad."

"You're insane."

"You signed me up for it."

"I did." He kissed the top of my head. "And I'd do it again."

"I know you would." I yawned, my body finally giving in to the exhaustion. "Same time next week?"

Drake's laugh was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep, and somewhere in the haze of pain and pleasure and contentment, I heard him whisper, "Every week."

I smiled in my sleep.