Several sound stages are set up for various scenes, and luckily one of them looks exactly like a living room, complete with a couch, a loveseat, and a couple of chairs. In another sound stage stand a spanking bench and a suspension tripod in case anyone forgot we’re here to bring a greater understanding of kink to the world.
Harley sits on the couch in the center of the set, his legs spread and his arms thrown wide over the back of the couch. Everything about his body language says confident and in control. Baby is on the same couch, a self-satisfied smirk on his pretty pink lips, leaning against the armrest, his legs stretched out in front of him just enough to encroach on Harley’s territory.
I mentally jot the word brat next to Baby’s name and continue my perusal of the room. Max, or Thunder as he’s going by now, is relaxed in one of the chairs, a laid-back smile tilting the corners of his mouth. Glam is on the floor, his arms over his head and his back arched in what I’m hoping is a yoga pose. Otherwise, he’s getting way ahead of the rest of us.
I arch an eyebrow at him, and he shoots me a flirty wink. It seems like Hunter decided to forgo sweet, pliant subs altogether and stick with a bunch of brats. Except...I keep looking and finally spot Byron sitting with his legs pretzeled on the spanking bench. As soon as my eyes meet his, a light blush creeps into his cheeks.
“Great, everyone’s here.” I bring my hands together and rub them. “So let’s get started.”
“Started on what exactly?” Harley asks. “Hunter wasn’t clear about what we’d be doing today.”
“Of course he wasn’t. Where would be the fun in that?” I joke. “He asked me to lead a brief talk, and then he gave me access to his office so I can sit down with each of you to go over contracts.”
“Contracts?” Byron pipes up. “But didn’t we already sign our employment contracts? In fact, I’m sure we did. I spent a whole night reading mine over carefully.”
“Not that kind of contract, boo,” Glam says before I have a chance to.
“No, not employment contracts,” I say. “Any of you who have had a contracted relationship before, this will be similar to what you’re used to, except the discussion will be with me rather than with your scene partner.”
Byron looks a little uncertain but nods. I glance around to make sure no one else has any questions. Then I press forward.
“First things first. Hunter and I decided it’ll make the most sense if for the scenes you do here, we all use the stoplight method for safewording. It’ll be much easier than everyone trying to memorize half a dozen different safewords, and it will minimize the risk of any of you who are newer to practicing kink forgetting your safeword.”
“The stoplight method, is that just like red to stop?” Baby asks.
“Red means stop, yellow means slow down or that you’re approaching your limit, and green is good to go,” I say. “Doms, we want you checking in on your partner as frequently as you would in any other scene. Hunter’s goal is to portray kink as realistically as possible, which means don’t be afraid to check consent throughout the scene.”
Harley nods, his expression serious. I look over to Thunder and find him with a blank expression.
“Are you good with that, Thunder?”
“Me?” He sits up a little. “Oh, yeah, I’d be a Dom, right?”
I frown. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. Are you a sub?”
“Daddy implied that I’d be a Dom when he hired me, but I’m fine either way.” He shrugs. “I’m here because I have a massive dick, not for my personality,” he jokes, but there’s the slightest hint of self-deprecation behind his words. I make a mental note to discuss this with Hunter later.
“It never hurts to have a switch.” I move on to discuss the philosophy of safe, sane, and consensual kink.
Once I’ve covered all the topics Hunter wanted me to go over, we get to the contracts.
“Whoever wants to be my first victim, let’s head to Hunter’s office, and we can get the first contract hammered out,” I say with a wolfish grin.
“Well, if that doesn’t sound suggestive,” Glam teases.
“Hammered out professionally,” I say. This may be a porn studio, but the last thing I want is anyone to think I’m inappropriate with them.
“Disappointing.” He sighs, fluttering his eyelashes at me flirtatiously. I’ve spent almost no time with any of these men so far, but something tells me that flirty is Glam’s default, so I don’t bother to acknowledge it.
“Byron, why don’t you come with me first.” I decide when no one makes a move to volunteer.
His eyes go wide for a fraction of a second. Then he hops up off the spanking bench and trips over his own feet. He catches himself on the back of the couch just in time. Harley leans forward and offers a hand to make sure he’s okay.
“I hope the judges won’t deduct any points for that dismount,” Byron jokes quietly, and Baby and Harley both chuckle. Byron sweeps his hair off his forehead, squares his shoulders, and follows me.
We step into the office, and I round the desk and take a seat in Hunter’s soft, leather office chair. Byron hesitates near the door, shuffling his feet, looking a little uncertain.
“Feel free to leave it open. I wanted to discuss contracts away from the others so no one would worry about what the others might think, and feel pressured to agree to anything they’re not comfortable with.”
He closes the door with a soft click and then sits down in the chair opposite Hunter's desk. He wiggles a bit as if finding a comfortable position, and I take that time to study him. He’s an interesting mystery. Every time I’ve seen him interacting with the other models, he seems relaxed and carefree but turns into a nervous chihuahua around me.
He’s beautiful—soft blue eyes, a sweet angel face, and dark hair, somehow both styled and messy at the same time. I’m sure it takes an endless amount of time to achieve. He’s petite, the kind of sub who’s perfect for manhandling. My cock stirs at the thought of having his lithe little body pliant under my hands.
He looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to pull my head out of my ass and start discussing the contract with him. Clearing my throat, I grab the top contract and pass it across the desk to him while mentally scolding my dick for getting such an unprofessional idea at a time like this. It’s been months since I’ve played with anyone or gotten laid, but that’s no excuse.
“I know you’re not familiar with a contract like this, but we want you to blatantly spell out what you would be comfortable doing and what your hard limits are. In most contracts, several clauses will go over how many scenes a Dom and sub might do together or how long the contract term will be, things like that, but since this is for the studio, we’ve left all that out,” I explain.
Byron scans the papers I prepared and printed a few days ago. To make it easy, I made a checklist so each of them could check off what they’re willing to do for a scene, and then a separate section allows them to circle their hard limits.
“I don’t know what a lot of this is,” he admits after a few minutes, that delicious blush returning to his cheeks.
“Why don’t you start by checking the things you are familiar and comfortable with, and then we can go over the rest,” I suggest.