Permanent Marks: no tattoos or branding. I like temporary marks, rope lines, a fading warmth from his hand, but nothing permanent.
I pause, tapping the pen against my lip. Then I addEmotional Humiliation, underlining it twice. I don’t mind teasing, but I’m too sensitive for anything meant to degrade. That kind of pain would linger too long.
Soft Limits:
These are the things I’m curious about but not entirelysure I’d enjoy. I read through the examples Calvin has listed, my cheeks heating up as I consider each one.
Public Play: thrilling in theory, but I’d only try it in a controlled space.
Anal Play: never done it, and with Calvin’s size, I’m not sure I can. Still, I write it down with a question mark.
Sensory Deprivation: blindfolds and headphones sound exciting, but also intense.
Impact Play: I love when he spanks me, but paddles or canes might be too much. Maybe, eventually.
I glance over the list, feeling exposed. It’s strange how naming boundaries can feel as intimate as crossing them.
I move on to the next section, labeled Things I Want to Try. This is where I get to be honest about what excites me, what I’ve fantasized about late at night, alone in my bed.
Bondage: being tied up, restrained, helpless, it’s addictive.
Spanking: I already love the sting of his hand, the way it makes me feel small and cherished at once.
Breath Play: he’s only done it once, but I can still feel it, the rush of surrender. Dangerous, yes, but I trust him.
Dirty Talk: the way his voice drops when he says filthy things drives me wild. I want more of that. More praise, more control, more belonging.
Orgasm Control: the idea of him deciding when I can come, keeping me on the edge, it’s maddening, but thrilling.
I reread everything, pulse racing. These words, my boundaries, my wants, my fears, feel like pieces of me laid bare. It’s terrifying to hand them over, but it’s also freeing. Because I know he’ll handle them and me with care.
I go through the rest of the contract, noting the sections about aftercare and communication. It’s all so thorough, so detailed, and I can tell he’s thought about this a lot. It’sreassuring, in a way, to see how much he’s invested in making sure this is safe for both of us.
The final page is a space for our signatures. I trace my finger over the line where my name would go, my stomach fluttering with nerves. This is a big step, a huge leap of faith, and I know once I sign this, there’s no going back.
But I also know, deep down, that I want this. I want him. I want to explore this side of myself, to give him control. I smile, relief flooding through me. He’s patient and understanding, and that makes me feel a little braver, a little more secure in my decision.
I take one last look at the contract, letting my eyes trace the words I’ve read over and over, then set it aside.
With a sigh, I get up and force myself to focus. I’ve got a wedding dress to finish, layers of silk organza scattered across my worktable like a snowstorm of deadlines, and I need to be productive. But every time I try to thread a needle or sketch out a neckline revision, my mind drifts right back to it.
The contract.
The rules.
The possibilities.
I stare at the bodice mockup like it’s going to answer all my questions. Instead, I end up pulling out my laptop and, completely unintentionally of course, opening a private browser tab.
And then I fall headfirst into a rabbit hole.
BDSM etiquette. Proper submissive behavior. What a healthy D/s dynamic actually looks like. There’s so much more to it than I expected. I take mental notes like I’m studying for a final. Safe words. Aftercare. Power exchange. The difference between punishment and abuse. I even find apodcast episode titled “So You Want to Submit, But You Talk Back Too Much.”
Rude. And also… accurate?
Because while I do want to learn the rules and do this right, I know myself: I’d 100% roll my eyes and say something sarcastic mid-command. I’d test him. Push just a little. Not to challenge his authority, but… to make him prove it.
I don’t even realize how deep I’ve gone until the sound of the elevator dings in the background. My heart jumps.
