June 3, 2022 #2
As I got to the bottom of the contract, the last one was a pleasure guarantee. My eyes bucked as I read the clause. It was a very bold statement; the way it read made me wet. I crossed my legs one over the other until I finished reading.
Section 9.4 – Pleasure Standard. The Dominant acknowledges that the Submissive's pleasure constitutes a material term of this Agreement.
Accordingly, during each designated pleasure session, the Dominant shall ensure that the Submissive experiences no fewer than five (5) orgasms within the first ninety (90) minutes of the session.
In the event this standard is not met, and the session was not interrupted due to the Submissive's withdrawal of consent, invocation of a safe word, illness, injury, or other circumstance beyond the Dominant's reasonable control, the Submissive shall be entitled to compensation of one hundred thousand dollars.
“This nigga said he’ll put his money where his mouth is,” I mumbled as I scrolled past that last clause and only found the signature lines. Then I exited the message thread.
There was a lot going on. This was a very detailed contract that required a lot.
He had outlined everything he wanted for that one night.
He also said that upon signing, he’d provide everything he required, which was a laundry list. He wanted me to wear white and have jet-black hair, thirty-four inches or longer.
He also wanted my nails and toes to be French manicured.
But he didn’t stop there.
He had very specific hygiene requests. He said for seven days prior to the desired date, I should only drink alkaline water and consume fruit at least once a day.
The day before and the day of, I should bathe in antibacterial soap.
And when I arrive, I should arrive fragrance-free and freshly waxed.
This was a lot to take into consideration. But still, I was interested.
I put the thoughts of Dinero behind me as I pulled through the gate of my community. I didn’t want anything more than to shower and lie down. The sun beat us all day, and my shower was screaming my name.
“Thank you, goodnight,” I said as A opened the door for me.
“Goodnight, Boss Lady.” He said with a chuckle, standing behind me as I tucked the boots under my arm and walked up to my door.
My night was over, but somehow, I couldn’t stop thinking about the man who had approached me with such a brazen request.
Then the week went by. I contemplated for an entire seven days.
By the seventh day, I went back to our messages.
And completed the DocuSign for the contract.
As promised, he left everything completely up to me.
He hadn’t reached out since he sent over the contract.
When I finished, I didn’t let him know it was completed; I just left everything hanging in the air.
The rest of the day, I was anxious. More so because I had just signed up for the unknown.
I had spent the week doing a ton of research on the man who had invited me into his space.
It was something that I often did, but not to this extent.
I’ve seen everything there is to know about him.
No criminal record- not even expunged or sealed.
No known scandals. No silent settlements paid.
I called my contact at the pharmacy, and he hadn’t been prescribed any psych meds- or medication at all except for a sinus infection.
I was even able to obtain the properties that he owned, his financial history, and even his credit score.
He was as clean as a whistle.
That helped me to make my decision. I don’t normally get as invasive with the men I see, but if he was talking about dominating me, this was as good a time as any to use my connections in the city to make sure that I wasn’t about to be starring in my own documentary.
The hours dragged on from the day without a response from him. But then I finally saw his name flash across the screen.
Dinero: I see you signed the agreement. After the first three days, I wasn’t confident that you would.
I am flying out tomorrow, so I would love it if you could meet me at Dr. Ormond’s office at 6 p.m. for testing.
Also, I’ve attached the list of your essentials.
Expect a wire transfer to cover your maintenance.
I chuckled. He was dead set about his nonnegotiable.
Me: Hey. Sure, I’ll see you at 6.
We met at the doctor’s office after hours.
No one was there but me, Dinero, and the old man with steady hands.
We didn’t talk much, if at all. It was kind of awkward.
It definitely felt more routine than natural.
I was given a complete physical, and blood was drawn for lab testing.
When it was over, we signed release forms to have our results emailed to us and to each other.
The wire transfer came through while I was at the office. He had sent me fifteen thousand dollars to prepare for one night. I blew my breath because this was really happening.
The date was set for exactly one week later. Dr. Ormond said we’d receive the results in five. Pending the results, it was set in stone.
The next couple of days flew by with no communication. That was, until the results were sent to us. All his results came back normal, as well as mine. About thirty minutes after I got the results, I got a message from him.
Dinero: I hope you’ve been eating your fruit and drinking alkaline water.
I’ll see you in forty-eight hours. A driver will pick you up, and a copy of his identification and non-disclosure is attached.
Two hours prior to pick-up time, please provide him with an address.
I ask only that you arrive in the white ensemble you have chosen for the night.
And only pack a bag of clothes that you will return home in. See you soon.
I sighed. He and these guidelines and attachments are driving me crazy.
I popped the pineapple from the fruit bowl into my mouth as I read it, then immediately burst into laughter at my desk at the realization.
That night, after we got the results, I didn’t sleep well. I was anxious; I had never been in a situation like this, but still my curiosity was eating away at me.
The days seemed like they flew by, and before I knew it, I was standing in front of a mirror, fresh out of the shower and unable to use any moisturizer on my body.
I had no makeup on but somehow felt prettier.
The way my hips protruded from a white lace body suit that left nothing to the imagination was something that even I had to tilt my hat at.
I was fine: the outfit, the heels, and the longest bundles I had ever worn made me look like a dancer.
Which was a complete contrast to my actual occupation.
My alarm rang, signaling the time the driver said he would arrive. I went over to the desk and grabbed it. Sure enough, I had a message from him letting me know that he would be waiting for me and to come down when I was ready.
I went back over to my bed, grabbed the white robe to cover me, and walked out of the house with my bag in hand. I was grateful that the sun was going down, and no one could see me.
When we pulled up to his actual estate, it was massive in size. There was so much of the home that I knew it had to be a task to walk from one side to the other.
The driver looped around the front and then slowed to a complete stop.
Then he opened the door and let me out before he extended his hand once more to help me up the steps that led to the door.
I felt so exposed but also liberated in a way that I had never felt before.
I hoped that this wouldn’t be the name of my First 48 episode: Last Liberation.
We made it to the front door, and the driver entered a code to open it. He stopped me at the door.
“Please, wait here. May I take your bag?” He asked as I placed the bag in his hand. But still kept my phone in case I needed it.
The driver disappeared into the back of the house.
I stood there while my legs started to shake.
I kept shifting my weight nervously from one leg to the other.
Eventually, Dinero appeared from the back of the house in only a pair of silk pajama pants.
I couldn’t help but savor him with my eyes.
The flex of his muscles, his defined abs, his chocolate skin, the thin neatly trimmed happy trail of hair that led to his…
“Mmm.” He groaned once he neared me. “You look good.”
“Th- thank you. So do you.” I stammered after he interrupted my thoughts.
I know he was giving me a silent inspection from head to toe. Then he leaned into me and inhaled before he stepped back with a satisfied nod.
“Let’s go to the room.” He said as she sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and eyeballed me. I started to get butterflies because the moment I took that first step, I felt like I had to see it through.
He led me up the stairs and down a hallway. We turned multiple times until we reached the only door that required a pin to open. My breath hitched as he pushed open the door, and what I saw made my mouth hang in confusion.
There were chairs, tables, swings, benches, and ropes dangling from the ceiling. I took in every inch of the room and swallowed hard. I didn’t want to show my apprehension, but at that point I knew I couldn't hide it.
He guided me deeper into the room, and it closed behind us. I could hear it automatically lock once it did. I jumped when I heard the click, my pulse spiked, and I found myself having to take several shallow breaths in order to compose myself.
He stood in front of me, and then he stared down at me.
“You look so nervous. If at any time you feel uncomfortable, you can leave.” He offered as he pushed the hair resting on my shoulder behind me.
“I understand.” I acknowledged.
“Can I touch you?” He asked.
I nodded my head.
“Every question I ask you requires a verbal response.” He clarified.
I cleared my throat. “Yes.”