Chapter 20 - Quinn #3
“It’s a BDSM term. Written as D/s, with an uppercase D and a lowercase S. It just means Dom slash sub. You're the left side of the slash, and I'm the right.”
“Ah, I see. Simple enough, I guess.”
“For sure,” she says. “And I'm going to help you, Quinn, because you do have a lot to learn. In fact, I think we should start right now.”
Olivia gets up from her stool and takes our plates away. She places the dishes in the dishwasher and opens a cabinet above the stove, where she grabs a few pieces of paper and a pen, and brings them back to her seat.
“What's that?” I ask.
She points to the papers. “This is a contract.”
“Oh. For work?”
“No. For us.”
Bewilderment takes control of my face and makes my eyes wide as Olivia slides the papers over to me, and I see sets of empty checkboxes next to descriptive sentences that look like definitions in the back of an English textbook.
“You drew up a sex contract for us?” I ask, part shocked, part offended, and part excited.
“Something like that,” she admits nonchalantly.
“It’s more of a formal letter of agreement between us.
Here, it lists all of the kinks that the two of us agree to, and the things that we’re obligated to do for one another when we have sex.
This is how we’ll find out what you really want.
For me, there are plenty of kinks that I'm into, and plenty that I'm not.
This document simply states that we will agree to explore the kinks we have in common, while never crossing into the ones we don't.”
“Couldn't we just agree on this verbally?”
“Of course we could, but I want it in writing. Maybe it’s a CEO thing.”
Now I scoff without being able to hold it back. “So you can pull it out and wave it in my face if I break a rule, like a true boss?”
“Well … yeah. If it comes to that. I just want you to understand what it is that we’re doing together, that’s all, and this is the best way I know how. So, before you let it get to your head, let’s take a look at how simple it really is. Here, it lists kinks. So, which ones are you interested in?”
Stunned at the turn this conversation has taken, I follow Olivia’s finger on the paper and see what's written at her fingertip.
The paper lists a multitude of kinks I've heard of, like bondage, rope play, choking, and impact play.
Then I see ones I've never thought about, like piss play, electroshock, and scat.
I point to each of them with eyes as wide and round as the tires on my car.
“I’m not into any of these, especially this one,” I exclaim, pointing to scat hard enough to push the ink through to the other side of the paper.
“Oh, that’s good,” Olivia says with a playful laugh. “I'm not into that either. See, this is why I have this, just to make sure we’re on the same page. These up here are kinks that I am into. How do you feel about these?”
I scan the page and nod my head as I take the pen from her and insert check marks into the boxes.
“Bondage, check. Never done that before, but I’m definitely interested.
Impact play, check. Breath play, check. I don't know anything about Shibari, so I’ll skip that one.
Forced orgasms, check. Edging, check. Hair pulling, check.
Fisting? Well, I'm down for it if you are. Breeding … wait, how do you feel about this?”
Olivia takes the pen from me and inserts her own checks in the empty boxes next to the ones I've filled, agreeing to participate in the kinks I've marked down. When she gets to the breeding kink, she puts a check.
“I get tested every month and I'm on really good birth control,” she says. “How about you?”
“Same,” I answer. “I had a relationship end not too long ago and got tested right after. Good to go.”
“Perfect. I love that you used a condom before, because we hadn't discussed it yet, but I would love it if you came inside of me.”
My cock throbs so hard I think it will shoot my zipper across the room.
“Oh,” I say, trying to keep from smiling. I take the pen and put my check next to hers. “Then I'm good with it.”
“Good,” Olivia says, then she takes the pen back and slides down a section about safe words.
“We talked about this last time. When I say the word red, everything stops. But, I also like to use the word yellow. This means that I'm starting to feel a little uneasy about what we’re doing. It’s an indication that I’d like you to tread lightly, and to be prepared to stop if it comes to that.
Please mark this so that I know you understand and agree. ”
I watch Olivia make her mark, then I make mine.
“And lastly, but probably the most important,” she continues, making her way to the bottom of the page.
“This is about aftercare. When we engage in these scenes together, it can get very intense for me.
Don't get me wrong, I want it to be intense, but the emotions from all of it can become quite volatile, and after it's all done, I need to be cared for.
You can't just bind me and spank me, then leave me to mentally recover from that on my own.
Men I've slept with before seemed to struggle to understand this, so I need you to agree and tell me that you understand why this is something I want.
If you're going to break me, I need you to put me back together.
If you can't understand this part, you can't have the rest.”
I nod, quickly understanding something I hadn't ever thought of before.
To an amatuer, I figured that BDSM was only spanking and flogging before fucking and coming.
I never thought about what happens afterward.
But now that Olivia is explaining it, I totally understand why she would need to be cared for after something that could easily be traumatic.
So, I don't hesitate to place my mark in the box.
“I understand and agree, one hundred percent.”
Olivia nods with satisfaction on her lips, then both of us sign our signatures on the bottom of the paper to make it all official.
It all feels so formal that I half expect her to finalize it with a notary.
After she puts the pen down, she finishes off her glass of Chardonnay and stands up, looking me directly in the eyes.
“Okay,” she says, smiling big. “Now that we’ve done that. I need you to follow me.”
Without giving me time to answer, Olivia walks away from the island and heads down a hallway off the kitchen.
I quickly knock back the rest of my wine as I stand, then scurry to catch up to her.
She leads me down one hall that connects to another, then turns to a royal blue door and opens it up.
Behind it is a staircase leading to what looks like a basement.
She immediately starts down the stairs without looking back or saying a word, and I silently follow while anxiety and curiosity make my heart roar with each descending step.
When she reaches the bottom, Olivia flips a switch on the wall that sends fluorescent lights flickering in front of us, lighting up a room that comes into view as I reach the bottom of the steps.
When I see it, it’s like I've taken off my helmet in outer space—my eyes go wide, my lungs deflate, and my heart implodes behind my ribcage.
I can barely believe my eyes as they scan the room and take in everything I'm seeing. It’s a white and pink sex dungeon, including a giant black X on the wall to my left with handcuffs dangling from it, a bench made for bondage on the far wall, a sex swing to my right, and a plethora of sex toys shamelessly on display, taking up nearly every square inch of the walls.
Upstairs, Olivia decorated with paintings.
Down here, she drowned the room in sex. There are vibrators, ropes, chains, canes, ball gags, nipple clamps, an array of floggers, and an endless selection of dildos ranging from small white ones, to giant black ones, to some that look like multi-colored octopus tentacles.
I’ve seen these things before but never had the pleasure of using them.
My jaw hangs wide open as I stare at it all, unblinking and unable to break up the cement that has encased my feet.
Olivia lets out a sigh as she steps in front of me, her arms wide like she's proudly showing it all off. “Welcome to my playhouse.”