Beneath the Burn

He studied her for a long moment with apathetic eyes. “Very good.” With two fingers, he twirled the paperwork on this desk to face her and pushed it across the mahogany surface. “Look over the contract. Cross off anything you want to exclude from our scene. Write in anything you want to include.”


Leaning forward, she accepted the pen and scanned the document, pausing on the punishments clause.

Punishment of the sub is subject to certain rules designed to protect the sub from intentional abuse or permanent bodily harm. Punishment must not incur permanent bodily harm, or the following forms of abuse:

Death

Damage that involves loss of mobility

Permanent marks on the skin, including scars, burns, piercing or tattoos

Breaking of the sub’s bones

Dismemberment

Burning of the sub’s body

Drawing blood

Dramatic loss of circulation

Internal bleeding

Loss of consciousness

Cutting or pulling out the sub’s hair

Her pulse hurtled through her veins as she thought, not for the first time, that she should mail a copy of this contract to Roy.

Satisfied with the definition of punishment, she skimmed until she reached the hard limits.

No scat or fecal play

No public nudity

No verbal humiliation

No unprotected intercourse

No anal

Restricted physical humiliation: No licking shoes, eating dirt, simulating dog/cat such as eating from the floor and crawling on all fours, etc.

“If you don’t have any changes to the limits, initial here.” He tapped the box on the contract.

She scrawled her initials and moved the sub’s role, lingering on the section she’d anticipated.

The sub shall keep her body available for the use of her Dom at all times. This includes and is not limited to sexual intercourse: vaginal and oral. The sub acknowledges that her Dom may use her body or mind in any manner He wishes within the parameters of safety and any limitations in this Contract. He may hurt her without reason to please Himself.

He rested his forearms on the desk, his presence filling the distance between them, shrinking her. “Sexual intercourse was included in your contract with Master Duke. It’s not a common practice in my dungeon, but I will honor it should you choose to include it. Condoms will be used, but I require a second form of birth control. Write your birth control in the space provided or cross out the clause to exclude it. Then initial in the box provided.”

A heavy weight pushed down on her chest. If she had sex with the Dom, would she be doing it to balance the hurt Jay had inflicted on her? Would she feel vindicated after? The thought of going back to clinical, negotiated fucking festered in her gut.

Conrad watched her steadily, his face smooth and slack. His nose was slightly bent, his lips a bit too thin, and his hair was too short, too dark. Jesus, he wasn’t Jay, but she didn’t feel even a twitch of attraction. Still, wasn’t intercourse the reason she was there? To flush out the jealousy by lowering herself to the same level? It was wrong. She was so fucked up, yet she continued to mull over it. Eventually, she made the required adjustments, finished the read-through, and signed by the X.

“Before we proceed,” Conrad said, eyes on her. “Explain the man pacing outside.”

“He’s my bodyguard, but he won’t interfere.”

Not a wrinkled movement in his face. Not even narrowed eyes. He stood. “Follow the hall to the end. Remove your clothes at the door. Inside, assume the submissive position by the St. Andrew’s Cross. Once you enter the dungeon, you are my sub. Your body belongs to me.”

“Yes, Sir.” She rose on wobbly legs, a cluster of fear, uncertainty, and excitement battling through her.

Nathan’s gaze bore into her back as she walked down the hall and stripped her clothing. Naked, she stepped inside and drew in a shuddering breath.





85


“I didn’t take any fucking drugs!” Jay’s pulse thundered in his ears. He swung his head, meeting the glares of his so-called friends, as he marched through the suite, trying his damnedest not to hurl nearby lamps and vases. “Tell me! Where the fuck is she?”

Tony stood by the window, holding onto her stubborn reticence.

He whirled on her, finger trembling as he aimed it at her face. “You know where she is. Tell me, goddammit!”

“I promised Nathan. I will not betray him.”

Betray. There it was. The accusation by the one person who witnessed his blackout from beginning to end. Even then, she didn’t believe him. How could he defend himself when he didn’t remember a damned thing since the end of the show?

He woke thirty minutes ago with Laz slapping his face and screaming at him about how Charlee caught Ella sucking his dick. What the fucking hell? His anger leaked from his muscles, and he collapsed on the couch, face in his hands and stomach rolling.

He deserved this. His past mistakes clung to his back, as eternal as his tattoo. “I was drugged.” What did he drink at the arena? Bottled water. Nothing else. Was the cap sealed? “Who delivered our water? Where did it come from?”

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