Lilly is responsible for answering any questions honestly and directly from her master and will volunteer any information he should know about her physical and emotional condition.
She is not to interpret that as permission to whine and complain. She must always address her master in a respectful manner.
It is the master’s responsibility to make it clear when a punishment is being given and why it has occurred.
In public the slave will conduct herself in a manner that doesn’t call attention to the relationship forth with.
No part of this agreement will interfere with Lilly’s career, her physical or emotional well-being.
Of her own free will, Lilly Wade offers herself in slavery to Master Joseph Levi for the period beginning on January 14, 2017 at noon and ending on February 14, 2017 at noon.
Both parties must also note and acknowledge that this contract is not legally enforceable. It is a tool to help guide the relationship and monetary gains will be provided to Lilly as compensation in the form of two hundred and fifty dollars. Lilly Wade, slave, may at any time leave without fear of losing Joseph Levi as her master for the duration of the contract. Although doing so may be met with punishment if she is to return.
With my signature below, I agree to accept and obey what is detailed and outlines for the contract. Noted above.
Slave, Lilly Wade _____________
Date__________________
Lilly looks up at me hesitantly, “Joseph?” She says my name softly, so sweet coming from her lips. I’ve always hated my name, but hearing it from her, with that look in her eyes, makes me proud of it.
I clasp my hands on the table and nod once, holding her baby blues.
She smiles shyly before returning to the contract.
“The terms are negotiable,” I say easily, waiting to see if she’s comfortable with the amount I blurted out in the dungeon. It’s the minimum of what she’d get if she were to go up for auction. I should offer more, but I’d rather keep the opportunity open for me to extend the contract into the next month if I’d like to.
“This contract ends on Valentine’s Day.” Although it’s a statement, Lilly looks at me as though it’s a question.
“Yes,” I nod again, “it’s exactly one month.”
I stare deep into her pale blue eyes, willing her to tell me that she’s a virgin. It’s been days since my fingers have been pressed inside of her tight cunt, but I can still feel her hymen on the tips of my fingers. I know she’s untouched and I expect her to tell me before signing.
She looks like she’s going to tell me something, but she doesn’t. Instead she returns to the paperwork, but she’s not reading it. Her eyes are focused on the line she’s supposed to sign.
“If you’re not comfortable with this…” I hate myself for even giving her an out. But in this moment, I fall victim to the vulnerability in her eyes.
“I want to fuck you,” Lilly blurts out, covering her mouth with both hands. Her cheeks brighten with a beautiful blush of embarrassment.
Although her little outburst is adorable, I need to make sure she’s ready for this. “But are you ready to be my slave? To give yourself to me in all things for a month?”
Lilly takes a deep breath and then another all while staring into my eyes. She nods her head and without speaking a word, she picks up the pen on the table, and signs her name on the line.
Chapter 13
Lilly
I blow a strand of hair out of my eyes as I pack away another tank top, one thought running through my mind.
It’s only one month.
It’s something I’ve been telling myself all morning to make myself feel better about accepting the money. That, along with, After 30 days, I’ll be free. The words are helping some, but not totally alleviating my anxiety about the contract. I went over every single line of it several times over. It was nothing like the contracts Madame Lynn showed me at the club when I first came. There weren’t any specific boxes for things I was interested in or uninterested in. There weren’t any hard limits or soft limits that were indicated on the last line.
I was agreeing to be his slave. Period.
My heart skips a beat at the thought, my breath quickening. The whole contract is very much in Joseph’s hands. It scares the shit out of me, yet at the same time, it turns me on. It’s a paradox.
There’s something about giving this man total control over me that drives me absolutely wild.
I should be ashamed, but I’m not. I want it.
I want him.
It isn’t lost on me that I’ll be giving him my virginity. My V-card. It’s not that it’s something sacred to me, something that I’ve been holding on to as long as I can remember. I’ve just never … been with anyone who’s made me want to give it to them. I wasn’t waiting until marriage. Just waiting until I found someone who turned me on and wanted me just as much. Joseph is definitely that man.
I hardly know the man, and here I am, knowingly about to give myself away. I shouldn’t be doing this. I should know better. At the same time, I can’t help but think there’s something more between us, something I’ve never had with anyone else. I toss another tank top into the small pile on my bed.
Or maybe I’m just trying to justify it.
He’s so much like one of the heroes in one of my romance novels; handsome, dark, brooding, mysterious and most-likely hiding a damaged past that’ll pull at your heartstrings. That’s part of what draws me to him, how much of a living, breathing fantasy he seems to be.
But I need to remind myself. This isn’t a fantasy. It’s real life. And I’ve gotten myself into some serious shit. Except it hasn’t really sunken in yet. I’m not sure when it will. I’m infatuated with the romanticized version of Joseph.
Even now, my heart flutters at how concerned he seemed with making me feel comfortable with the contract.
I stare at the pile on my bed, remembering how he told me to bring only the things that make me happy with me. I glance down at my half-stuffed bag, looking to see what I have so far. My most favorite books and a new Kindle I bought that has loads of titles on my to-be read already downloaded, but I’m missing a few things.
I glance at my list, and go down the line of things I still need to grab, and then go about gathering them.
I grab a small blue pillow that’s on my bed that I use as a prop for my knees when I’m sleeping and toss it in the duffle bag. Walking into the bathroom, I grab my aromatherapy oils and some cherry bath bombs and stuff them in my small hygiene bag. While I’m in there, I grab some nail polish and my three favorite lace nightgowns that are hanging on the rack. I rub my fingers over the lace; they’re not nearly as beautiful as what Sir gifted me, but maybe he’ll like them.
My body heats imagining what he’ll say. I close my eyes and stop that train of thought.
I walk out of the bathroom with my personal items and I go down my list, getting anything else I might have left out. Comfortable socks and flannel pajama pants that I wear when I’m really happy.
In the kitchen, I grab a box of my favorite homemade tea that I absolutely love and get from the farmers market. I start packing it away, but then pause, wondering if he’ll even let me use these. I have to remember. He owns me. I have to do what he says, whether I like it or not.