Merciless

Chapter 7, Part 1

Emi

Earlier tonight I was picked up by my date, brought to his apartment where we shared a lovely meal of eggplant parmigiana with roasted asparagus and crusty Italian bread, followed by a glass of wine, while we discuss the details of how I'm going to let him "force" me to have sex with him.

Not exactly your typical second date, but it's one I'm enjoying immensely so far. Granted, we're only at the wine and contracts portion of the evening, and I'm a tad nervous about what's to come, but I'm also excited. I have been all week.

Austin thought I'd reconsider exploring this with him. Every day I sent him a text letting him know I was still on board. And every day he told me to take more time to think about it. Yesterday I texted with, I'm done thinking. Time to cowboy up, Tex.

He laughed at that and then promptly informed me of how this date was going to go, no questions asked. Apparently, he likes making those kinds of decisions because his "mama raised him right" and he only allowed it the first time so he didn't blow his chance with me. I did not audibly "awwww" at my phone when he said that. Much.

"Here you go," he says, entering the living room with a glass of wine. "I asked the clerk to give me a good one, so I hope it's not terrible."

"I'm sure it's great, thank you."

He hands me the glass of red and joins me on the couch, keeping a couple feet between us. He's been the perfect gentleman all evening, only giving me a kiss on the cheek when he picked me up. I understand it—he wants to make sure we're both on the same page with everything before we go any further—but all I can think about is what happened between us a week ago and I want to climb him like a tree.

Last week was...brief yet unbelievable. I've never come so hard or fast in my life. In fact, I thought I was just one of those women who have a hard time climaxing during sex. I can get myself off fine, but unless I'm helping things along during intercourse, I don't typically come.

But now I know that it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with my partner. Austin shattered my world in mere minutes with only his fingers and a few dirty words. I didn't even know anything like that was possible. I feel like the world has been opened to me with endless possibilities.

"You're not drinking with me?"

Austin shakes his head. "No, whenever we play I won't have a drop of alcohol. It's important that none of my senses are dulled. And you only get one glass, enough to take the edge off your nerves and no more. I'm not trying to control you. It's all part of how I keep you safe."

Warmth spreads through my chest. Being taken care of like this from a lover isn't something I'm used to, and I'm finding it a little addictive. Taking a sip of my wine, I ignore the pieces of paper on the coffee table for a while longer. "Mmm, this is good. The clerk didn't steer you wrong."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"And dinner was amazing. Where did you learn how to cook so well?"

"My dad and I bonded over fishing, but Mama and I bonded over cooking. I can't bake worth a crap, though, so don't expect any desserts unless they're from the corner bakery."

"That's okay, I can't cook or bake. We had a full-time nutritionist on staff to cook for us because my mom and I were always on such a strict diet. Sometimes it was agonizing watching my father down plates of pasta primavera and crusty bread. Ironically, now that I'm retired from the ballet and don't have to worry about that, he can't eat like that anymore."

"Got healthy on you, did he?"

"Not willingly," I say dryly. "What's your favorite dish to cook?"

Bracing his elbows on his knees, he leans in my direction and smiles indulgently, his light green eyes twinkling. "You really want to keep talking about cooking? Or would you rather get to the second part of our evening? I'm good either way, it's up to you."

"Sorry," I say, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. I lower my head, hoping my hair hides it well enough. "I guess I'm feeling a little nervous, that's all."

"Hey." Using the side of his finger, he lifts my chin until I'm forced to meet his gaze. "I'd be more concerned if you weren't nervous, okay?" I nod, and that satisfies him. "Why don't we go over the contracts and talk about things. After that, you can decide where we go from there."

"That sounds good."

"First one is easy. It's a straight forward Non-Disclosure Agreement. You ever sign one of these before?"

I shake my head. "No, but I'm familiar with what they are."

"Good, so you know how these work. In our case, this ensures that neither one of us can talk about what goes on behind closed doors. As a civil servant, I have to be careful about keeping my reputation squeaky clean, and no doubt you don't want to have to defend your private business to the parents of your students."

The thought of anyone knowing my sexual proclivities stabs me with terror. "No, definitely not."

"Exactly. Now, I know I'm not the kind of man who would ever open my mouth about what we do, but you don't know me well enough for that. This piece of paper is your insurance that what happens with us, stays with us."

This is an easy decision. I already feel more at ease, regardless of whether we go through with the kinky stuff. Maybe all relationships should have NDAs. It'd put an end to things like revenge porn and exes being shitty to each other in general. Holding out my hand, I say, "Pen." He hands me a black ballpoint, and I sign my name with a flourish on both copies. "There."

Austin smiles and signs on the lines under mine, and then sets them aside. "This next part is a bit more complex. I want you to read it thoroughly, but it basically states that we're both knowingly entering into a consensual, sexual relationship that involves forced fantasy role play."

"Okay," I say, scanning over the pages as I listen. "Why do you use this if you have the NDA?"

"A couple reasons. One is for worst-case scenarios. It's extremely unlikely because I'm always careful, but if someone were to ever see us playing and think it's the real thing, this contract is proof that I'm not assaulting you. Likewise, it's proof you're not a victim of circumstance but rather in a position of power."

"Power? I thought I was going to be...you know...not."

"That's where you're wrong, Emi." He slides closer to me on the couch until our knees are touching. His eyes are earnest as he stares into mine. "You're the one with all the power. When we're playing, I'll be taking all my cues from you. You can control the intensity of what we're doing, or you can stop everything on a dime. You might be acting helpless, but you're choosing that role, and that's powerful in itself."

"I never thought of it that way," I say. "It makes me feel better about that aspect of it, but..."   

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