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Appreciated (Club Indigo Book 3) Page 10
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Jim pulled back reluctantly. He could kiss her all day. "How is my beautiful slave girl today?"
Paula stepped back. "I am not now, nor will I ever be, anyone's 'slave girl,' Jim Cagney. We'd better get that straight right now." She took another step, arms crossed over her chest. "Besides, I thought we were equals until we negotiated things?"
"You're right. I'm sorry. I jumped the gun. Come in and let me show you around and then we can talk, okay?"
Her features softened. "I'm sorry, too. Sure. I see you're a Tolkien fan." She indicated a handsomely framed map of Middle Earth on the wall.
"Yeah, ever since I was a kid. That's signed by Peter Jackson, who directed the movies. I went to a convention when I was in college. I forget which one of the movies had just come out. I waited in line for eight hours to get my map signed."
"I don't think I'd have the patience for that. I liked the movies, but I've never read the books."
"Maybe we should put it in the contract that you have to," he said.
"You've got to be kidding."
Jim chuckled. "Let me give you a brief tour, so you know your way around." He swung his arm around her shoulder to guide her. "You've already seen the master bedroom. There's a second one upstairs that I use as a study. Down here, it's pretty much what you see. The kitchen is through there." He waved his arm in the general direction of an opening. "A house says a lot about the person who lives there, don't you think? I'm looking forward to seeing your place, too."
Did she just stiffen in his hold? Jim skimmed his gaze over her—white knuckles, jawline rigid, and mouth tense. Didn't she want him in her house? What was that about? Jim pondered those questions as he showed her his modest but pristine home. Maybe she was just worried about the contract and their limits. Jim decided to move the proceedings along and steered her to his leather sofa.
"Have a seat, and I'll get us some snacks. What would you like to drink? I've got water, coffee, tea, and Coke."
"Water, please."
Jim went into the kitchen, pulled some crackers from the cabinet, and sliced some cheddar and gouda cheese. He also pulled out a couple of oranges and sectioned them. He put everything on a tray and carried it out to the living room and then went back to the kitchen for their drinks.
Paula's face lit up at the bounty, but she waited until he was seated before asking, "May I have some?"
"You may. I'm glad to see you learned from your reading today. I'd like it if you would add 'Sir' when you ask or answer a question."
"That will take some practice. Sir." She rolled the word around on her lips as if accustoming herself to its taste. "The only person I'm used to 'Sirring' is Captain Morris. I'll try."
"Good girl. So what did you find in your reading?"
"A lot of stuff, Sir. The links you sent kept leading to more links. I lost track of time and almost forgot to eat. I found a couple of articles and blogs I really liked. They talked about the different kinds of relationships people had. There was one from the submissive's point of view that explained what they got out of the relationship and a couple by Dominants, too. You need to know up front that I don't think I have it in me to be a service sub. I don't burn with the need to make sure you have everything you need or to clean these plates as soon as we empty them. Can you live with that?"
"Yes. I would have been surprised if you felt a need to serve me at this point. That might change, or it might not. It's not a key part of a 24/7 relationship for me. How do you feel about giving up control in areas of your life outside of work?"
"I don't know. I'm a little scared by the whole thing."
"That's normal. I'm sure we can work out a contract that meets both our needs. Did you find any you like?"
"I did, and I printed out a couple. They're in my bag." She jumped up and went to the entry for her bag before Jim could instruct her about asking permission before leaving the room. "I like this one best. The sub and Master don't live together, which is why I thought it would be a good place to start. Here's a limit list, too."
Jim took both from her and looked at the list first. It had quite a few hard limits and not nearly as many soft ones as he had hoped and expected. It seemed his new sub had quite definite ideas about what she was willing to try. "Paula, can you tell me how you understand the idea of hard limits?"
"Um, I thought hard limits were things I didn't want to do. Those things are stuff I don't think I'll like. I certainly don't want anything with blood or other bodily fluids, like watersports. That stuff is just sick to me."
"I agree with you about blood and such. None of those is a turn on for me, either. But more broadly, hard limits are for things that you think or know would be mentally or physically distressing, not just things you don't like the idea of. Things you don't like the idea of, but we discuss before doing are soft limits. Then there's the category of things you haven't tried but sound interesting and you're willing to do. I call that the 'maybe' category."
"So I can't make something a hard limit just because I don't think I'll like it?"
"That's correct. You can't decide you won't try something without a good reason. Don't exclude something just because you don't understand it."
"I guess that means I have to change some things?"
"Yes." He smiled, pleased and relieved that she was willing to open herself to more possibilities.
"So, things I don't like the sound of are soft limits?"
"Yes. Hard limits are absolute 'nos.' I accept that you want to put the bullwhip on the list of hard limits, but the other impact toys should really be on the 'maybe' list until you've tried them."
"I want canes on the hard limit list, but the others can be 'maybes.'"
"That might be wise. Canes can be nasty. It depends on how heavy-handed the top is. Let's look at the rest of your list. You gave the flogger a definitely want to try. Why?"
"I liked the way the flogger James used on Laura looked, but the other things sound kind of scary. I don't think I get off on pain."
"Let's unpack that a minute. While spanking and other forms of impact play can cause pain, they also can be used for pleasure. You liked the flogging you saw, but not all floggers are soft like James'. Some can sting and give significant pain. Most have the potential for both. What about bare-handed spanking?"
"Well, maybe. How hard would you spank?"
"That depends on the reason for the spanking. I gave you a swat in the club. Do you remember?"
"How could I forget? I can still feel your hard hand there if I think about it. That wasn't fun."
"It wasn't intended to be. Punishment isn't, but spanking can be very erotic. Can we move it into the maybe column and I'll demonstrate later?"
She chewed her bottom lip. "Okay, as long as I can make it a hard limit if I don't like it."
Jim agreed and perused the rest of the list. "I see you're interested in bondage."
"Yes, Sir. Thinking about it makes me wet. The way you made me hold the headboard that night after the wedding really turned me on. I think being tied there would have been even hotter."
"And shibari?" he asked.
"I looked it up and the pictures really turned me on. The models were beautiful in the ropes and they looked so serene."
"I don't know much about it, but Mitch teaches classes so we can sign up next time."
After more discussion, Paula agreed that electrical play might be interesting, and she'd always been curious about anal sex but hadn't had the nerve to try it. She thought a lot of the stuff that was classified as sensation play sounded interesting. Jim was pleased that she was opening herself up to new possibilities, but there was one more limit he wanted her to change. "You've marked orgasm control as a hard limit. Why?"
"Without orgasms, what's the point of sex?"
He chuckled. "Have you ever tried holding off your orgasm for a bit? Most women I know find it increases their pleasure when they have to hold onto it for a while. When they finally come, the orgasm is more intense and explosi
ve."
"That sounds interesting. The night of the wedding was pretty exciting."
"I agree. Orgasm control moves to the maybe column. I think that's a good place to stop with the limit list for now." Jim paused to see if Paula would say anything more about it. "Would you show me the contract you liked?"
Paula gave it to him, and Jim gave her another. "This is a baseline contract I've used to start negotiations."
Paula read the first couple of pages that talked in generalities about the relationship between Master and slave. Then it got to specifics about the Master being responsible for the slave's health. She read about the Master deciding the slave's diet and planning their exercise. She looked at Jim. "You get to decide what I eat and tell me to exercise? What kind of deal is this? I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
"I know you can take care of yourself, but maybe things could be better? Tell me, what did you have for breakfast?"
Paula turned red. "Leftover pizza and coffee."
"Do you consider that a well-balanced, healthy meal?"
"It has all the major food groups—dairy, bread, vegetables, and meat." She realized how ridiculous it sounded but couldn't stop herself.
"Really? Since when does tomato sauce count as a vegetable?"
"It had mushrooms, onions, green peppers and olives, too."
"Pepperoni or sausage?"
"Um, both." Paula was beginning to see how deep the hole she was digging for herself was. "I went for a five-mile run before breakfast. That counts for something."
"Yes, it does. Let's come back to that. What did you have for lunch?"
Paula looked down and whispered, "The last piece of pizza."
"How do you feel about that choice now?"
"Not great. But I don't generally have to tell people what I eat, either." She crossed her arms over her chest.
Jim reached over and pulled her right hand into his own. "Why did you eat two meals of leftover pizza today?" he asked softly.
"There wasn't anything else quick and edible in the house."
"You're not in trouble for anything you do before we sign the contract. I just want to help." He squeezed her hand. "How often do you run?"
"I aim for four days a week. I usually manage two or three. You know how the job is."
"Yes, I do. I think you'd do better with a healthier diet and more consistent exercise. How do you feel on days when you run in the morning?"
He had her there. "Good. Somehow running gives me more energy to face the day."
"That's why a Master is responsible for his sub's health. I'll help make sure you eat three balanced meals a day and get your exercise regularly. We'll see that you make your goal of four days a week running and find something different for the other three days. Before you ask, yes, you get a say in what the other activity will be, but I have the final say. As to your eating habits, I'll help you go through your refrigerator and kitchen and go shopping with you to put together some quick and easy meals for breakfasts and other meals when we're not together."
Paula paled. The last thing she wanted was for Jim to see her house, let alone her kitchen. "You don't have to do that," she said quickly. "There's not much in the fridge. I haven't had time to get to the store lately." She knew it was a lame excuse, but she had to keep him away from the house.
"Is there some problem with your house, Paula?"
Damn, he'd seen right through her. "I just haven't had a chance to clean lately and things are kind of a mess. Your house could be a layout for House Beautiful . I'm embarrassed for you to see mine before I have a chance to clean." Which wouldn't be for weeks, but she wasn't ready to tell him that.
"I'll help. You don't think this place looks neat all by itself, do you? We'll make a schedule to give you time to get your house clean, eat properly, exercise, and so forth. The point is that you can stop worrying about having so much to do, because the schedule will help you. It's one of the ways this relationship will make a positive difference in your life."
Paula didn't see how a schedule would help. "What about when I'm in the middle of a case and working overtime?"
"We'll build in some flex time for necessary adjustments. Relax, Paula. Let me take care of you. That's what this part is all about. Finish reading the contract, and then we'll talk more."
Paula turned back to the contract Jim liked and continued to the end. "Finished," she announced. "What about you?"
"Me, too. I like a lot of the contract you found. I think, between the two, we can work out something we can live and grow with for this initial period. What do you think?"
"I suppose. This stuff is hard, Jim. You're expecting a lot. I'm turning over big chunks of my life to you. Maybe we could just do this on the weekend?"
"Please trust me, Paula. I really think you'll like this if you give it a fair chance. Two months. That's all I ask."
Paula sighed. She wasn't sure what all this had to do with the great sex and the club, but it seemed to mean a lot to Jim. "Okay. What parts of which do you want to use?"
They spent the next hour going over the details and ended up with an agreement Paula thought she might be able to live with. She was to text Jim every morning when she woke up and again when she finished her morning exercise. They wouldn't have any more than normal contact at work, although he was allowed to take her to lunch once every two weeks. She had to text him about her lunch every day—where, when, what, and with whom she was eating. She would text him when she left work and when she arrived home. The last thing she would do each night before going to sleep was to text him goodnight. "I want to be the first thing you think about when you wake up in the morning and the last thing you think about before you go to sleep. I'll be waiting for your messages every day. If I don't answer right away, it's because you texted me while I was in the shower or in the middle of something at work."
"That's starting to sound romantic, Jim."
"It's supposed to. Now let's get back to the schedule. Saturday morning is for household chores. Sunday afternoon and evening are free time for you to do whatever you like. If you're behind in your chores, I expect you to spend at least part of your free time catching up. Not all, but some. It shouldn't take you long if you're diligent. Between noon on Saturday and 2:00 pm on Sunday, you belong to me. We'll be together and you will obey me without question." He paused when he got to the end. "What's going on inside your head, Paula? I can see the wheels turning."
"This is a lot to take in. I don't know if I can do it. What if I make a mistake?"
"Everyone makes mistakes. An honest mistake, you apologize and it's over. If you don't understand something, you can always ask for clarification on what I want you to do. If you keep making the same mistake, then we'll work out something to help you remember."
"You mean punishment."
"No, punishment is for when you deliberately disobey me or you do something you know I would not approve of, like your tone of voice at the club last weekend. If we'd had a contract in place that night, you would have earned yourself at least a spanking. If you're making mistakes because you don't remember something, I might have you write lines to help you remember."
"Lines? Like 'I will always text my Master before I go to bed?' That's like old-style Catholic school."
"Maybe, but that's a good example. Lines can be very effective when you're having trouble remembering to do something."
"I don't like the sound of this punishment stuff, Jim."
"Then all you have to do to avoid it is behave yourself and follow the rules. They're not that difficult. Are they?"
Paula wanted to wipe the smug look off his face at the bland statement, but she held her tongue and took a deep breath.
"All that's left is the schedule. Shall we allow forty-five hours a week for work? That should provide enough wiggle room for late days and overtime, don't you think?"
"Sure."
"What time do you get up?"
"The alarm goes off at 6:00 am. If I'm going t
o run, I get up then. If not, I hit the snooze button and turn over for another half hour of sleep."
"Enough with the snooze button. You'll get up when the alarm goes off. Running on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday, I think. We'll come up with something else for the other mornings. How about you plan on sleeping over on Monday and Wednesday and then we can exercise together on Tuesday and Thursday? I do Tai Chi most mornings, and it's an excellent workout. Good for balance, strength, and defense."
"Okay, I guess."
"You sound underwhelmed with excitement, Paula."
"I don't know, Jim. It's a lot of togetherness for two people who don't know each other that well yet. Could we maybe just have dinner during the week for a couple of weeks?"
Jim steepled his hands together for a moment. "That sounds like a fair compromise. I think we have everything we need to put this together. Let me fire up my laptop and we'll have it all in writing."
When they had the contract ironed out, it was after five and the snacks were long gone. "The only thing left is to figure out titles. We won't use 'slave.' I understand your feelings about the word. 'Submissive' doesn't adequately indicate the relationship. How about a name that's just between the two of us?"
For the first time in over an hour, Paula smiled. "I like that idea. Did you have something in mind?"
"I do. The word is 'Melda.' It's from Elvish, one of the languages from The Lord of the Rings . It means 'dear one' or 'beloved.' What do you think?"
"Melda," Paula rolled it around on her tongue. "I like it. Do I have to call you 'Master'?"
"Eventually, I hope you'll want to. Right now, 'Sir' is fine. Shall we sign the contract, Melda?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Great," Jim said when they'd signed both copies. "One more thing. I'll be right back." He headed for the stairs and was back a few moments later with a small box for her. "Open it."