Chapter 23
GRACE
After I’m left horny and unfulfilled, we return to New York. We don’t talk about sex or control, and I know the ball is in my court. He told me to think about it, and that's all I’ve done. But bringing it back up feels harder than it did that night.
On the second day back home, I wake up to find a large manila envelope that was slid under my door in the night. There's a yellow Post-it stuck to the top, a handwritten note scribbled on its surface.
Grace, take your time filling this out. I'm here if you have questions. -Asher
I'm not sure what that means as I unseal the envelope, pulling out the stack of papers.
And then I see it. The bolded letters at the top.
Dominant/submissive Power Exchange Relationship Contract
Knees weak, I immediately sit on the bed, laying out the contract on the comforter in front of me.
This is what I wanted. This is what I asked for in Bali.
But now seeing it in plain writing… I can place the feeling.
A churning in my stomach, my hands going clammy, yet it’s not with dread. It’s exhilaration.
I take a deep breath and begin reading.
The submissive willingly consents to the Dom/sub relationship and BDSM activities and understands consent can be revoked at any time by using the safe word.
The submissive will trust their Dominant to care for them during and after a scene and trust that this care will be reflected in expectations, requests, and rules.
The submissive will obey the Dominant’s requests/commands.
If the submissive breaks any of the aforementioned rules, they will receive discipline from the Dominant.
The submissive will review the attached BDSM checklist and rate their limit/interest on a scale of 0-5. 0 being a hard limit, unwilling to try, and 5 meaning they love it.
I flip the page to the checklist, finding sexual acts broken down into categories. Bondage and suspension. Impact. Sexual activity. Sensation and edge play. Breath play. Humiliation. Body part torture. Fetishes. Roleplaying. Service and Restrictive behavior. Voyeurism and exhibitionism.
This is way more than I anticipated. I just liked when Asher took control…
But I have a feeling he's not going any further with me until I fill this out.
I leave the contract on my desk and ignore it for the next week.
Every once in a while, I glance at it and consider going through the checklist and rating each item.
But then I lose my nerve before I even start.
I keep the Post-it note that encourages me to ask him questions, but I don't bring any of my thoughts up to him, despite him joining me for dinner each evening.
Instead, I spend my free time researching.
Most of what I find online scares me. Intense scenes where women are pushed to their limits or tied up in unsettling positions.
There are so many things I find that make me sick to my stomach.
And then, I start reading stories of women who like to be degraded and used.
That enjoy giving all their power to another person, knowing they have their best interests in mind.
I read about women who have had the best orgasms of their lives.
Women who find calm and peace in handing over their power.
I think about texting Kacey, but something stops me each time. A nagging insecurity telling me something must be wrong with me for wanting this.
My newest distraction from the contract comes in the form of Vivian showing up at the penthouse with dresses. It’s silly, really, how surprised I am when she wheels a rack of white and ivory gowns into the foyer.
Lisette immediately drops what she’s doing, excitement perking her features when she sees the dresses.
I’m getting married, so obviously, a wedding dress is needed.
But it’s not something that’s breached my thoughts.
Maybe because none of this is real… Or maybe because I’ve been too focused on thinking about what it will be like if I do sign this contract and let Asher begin ordering me around again, but this time in a kinkier way.
“I know you hate dresses, but it’s a wedding!” Vivian announces once she greets me with her usual kiss on each cheek. “I’ve taken the liberty to narrow it down to just a few.”
“This is just a few?” I do a quick scan, noting that there are easily eight dresses on the rack.
“Yes.” Vivian is absolutely serious, and I’m afraid to know how many I would have tried if she’d dragged me to a shop instead.
“Come on now. Try this one first.” She pushes a dress with far too much tulle into my hands.
Vivian helps me into the dress, but there’s this feeling of dread welling up inside me that I can’t shake. When I look in the mirror and shake my head, Vivian agrees. “Too much tulle.” And she helps me slip out of it before going to the rack to grab the next one.
But it’s not the tulle that’s the problem.
Guilt rears its ugly head. This is supposed to be something little girls dream about. Wedding dresses are something you only try on once in your life. Or at least, you're supposed to only try them on once in your life. But I’m doing this while knowing that this wedding ends in divorce.
And then I think of my mother and how disappointed she’ll be—not that she’ll tell me—that she didn’t get to be here for this moment. Maybe it’s something I could have arranged, for her sake, but then my guilt would have been even worse.
I’ve done my best to avoid my family and all thoughts of them since I announced my engagement. My mom still texts, and I dutifully respond. But it’s not the same as it used to be.
“Try this.” Vivian hands me another dress and helps me into it.
This one is simpler. Ivory silk with sleeves that fall off the shoulder and a skirt that flows down to the floor. It has a small train, but I don’t think I’m getting through this experience without one.
I look… beautiful. There’s no tulle or beaded bodice. Nothing over the top. It’s elegant and feels like… me.
“This is perfect.”
Vivian smiles. “I thought you’d like this one.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t take me dress shopping with you!” Kacey shrieks, nearly spilling her iced coffee when I show her the picture.
“It wasn’t exactly shopping.”
She groans, stealing the phone from me and analyzing the photo. “I can’t even be mad at you because this is such a beautiful dress!”
“Vivian has good taste.”
“That she does.” Slurping from her cup, she hands the phone back to me. “Okay, well, if you went dress shopping with Vivian, then you at least have to go lingerie shopping with me.”
"Kace—" I don't know how to tell her that’s not something I need at all. Vivian has my undergarments stocked to the brim. Lacy panties and matching bras for every day of the year, it seems.
"Come on, it’ll be fun. You won't let me plan a bachelorette, so at least let me do this."
I can't dispute that. That last thing I wanted was a bachelorette party for my fake marriage. And who would I invite? My only friend is Kacey, and it's not like I'm going to invite Asher's sister.
So, I cave in. "Okay."
An hour later, when we finally arrive in the West Village, Kacey drags me into the first lingerie store we see. A sultry and sophisticated boutique with a sign that reads Whisper.
Arms linked together, she drags me through the racks, oohing and ahhing as she grabs pieces that are far too bold for me. Too many straps, too revealing. Pieces made for sex and not for daily wear.
But you want sex, don't you?
The vision of that contract sitting on my desk appears in my mind.
Even though I’ve been hesitant to talk about this, I can’t hold back any longer.
I literally have the kink encyclopedia right here in front of me in the form of my best friend.
No amount of research can help me make a decision about this like she might be able to.
"Hey, Kace…"
"Yeah, babe?" She's still flipping through items, occasionally stopping to hold one up and adding it to the pile in her arms if she likes it.
My stomach does that fluttery thing it's been doing ever since Asher kissed me in Bali. The memory of his hands on my body, the way he took control of everything… I wanted him to go further. I think I would have done anything he said in that moment.
"Have you ever signed a contract for, like… ya know, doing… kinky stuff?"
Kacey freezes, turning to face me with her deep brown eyes wide as saucers. I half expect her haul to drop from her arms. She looks like she's short circuiting for a moment.
"He wants you to sign a contract?"
I nod, unsure what to think of her reaction. “Well, I kind of initiated things, but he won’t do more without a contract.”
"One sec." Walking over to the sales associate, she hands her the pile of garments she's selected and comes back to me. "Come on, we need a drink for this conversation."
She leads me outside to a bar two doors over, where we find a booth in the back and order wine.
"Okay." Kacey begins, her hands lightly smacking the table as she leans back.
"So, I want more details, but I'll start with this.
The community in general is split on contracts.
Some think that they're abusive. They can in no way hold up in court.
So it's mostly just for the couple to agree on things, which you don't really need a contract to do.
There are a ton of checklists that you can fill out—"
"Yeah, I have one of those too. But it's…"
"A lot?" Kacey finishes for me.
I sigh. "Yeah."
"There's a lot of things out there that people are into. A good checklist is going to be long. Chances are, most of the things on that list will be a hard limit for you, and that's okay."
Clearing my throat, I purse my lips. "What if…" I can't bring myself to finish the sentence.
"What if he wants something you don't?" she finishes for me once again.
I nod.
"If he's a decent person, he won't push you on it. He'll respect your boundaries and stick to the things you are willing to do. If he does push you… then I would get the fuck out."
I can't imagine Asher pushing me to do something I don't want to. He could have had his way with me back in Bali; I was practically naked in front of him, yet he stopped. He wants me to fill out this checklist, to agree before he'll touch me like that.
"Grace." Kacey reaches across the table to hold my hands. "If this is what you want, I'm excited for you. He's hot and he has capital-D Dom energy. But if for any reason, you don't want this, you know I'm here for you."
I smile. Kacey's always had my back. "I know. And I love you for it. But I think this is what I want."
She matches my grin. "Well, in that case. We really do need some lingerie."
Two hours later, after Kacey and I have discussed every item on the checklist and are buzzed from the wine, we leave Whisper with a bag full of new pieces sexier and more revealing than I’m used to, and I can't help but wonder what Asher will think when he sees them.
That is, after I sign that contract and slip it under his door.