The Contract

Darren stared at the contract before him on the table. Jade and the "independent" lawyer stood behind him, she in a conservative blue business skirt and white blouse, he in a black suit and tie, Darren in a black skirt and a Robin's egg blue blouse of silk, his feet fidgeting in his black high heels. His hands, long nails painted bright red, jerked impulsively toward the pen on the desk, then away again in panic. He felt his silicone breast inserts slip slightly on his chest, sweat lubricating their movement like water under a glacier. He licked and bit his lip slightly, tasting the latest application of his lipstick. It was late in the day, and light streaked across the heavy, oak-laden room in sundrenched rays of dust, like a film noir starring Lauren Bacall.

This was not your average business meeting.

The lawyer brushed his moustache downward and said, "Read it carefully Mr. Weber. I have read it and my advice is that you do not sign this. It's too sweeping in scope and there are no real safeguards. It is not that you are agreeing to be a slave to Ms. McTier, as that cannot stand as being legal (and you can walk away any time you wish anyway); it is that you are signing over your assets to her. That is legal, and it is final. Not only that, but it creates a financial dependence on her for your well being. In essence, you become penniless and dependent. Mr. Weber, it should be obvious. Do not sign this. That is my official recommendation."

The lawyer stopped and turned, looking out the window at the fading day. After a few moments of awkward silence in the room, he sighed and said with equal gravity, "I cannot make you do anything Mr. Weber; I can only advise you, as that is my job. Nonetheless, if you do choose to sign, I will witness it, but with trailing notes of my choosing. Is that clear?"

Jade smiled at the lawyer when he added that last part. Her dimples showed bravely in her flawless face surrounded as it was by an uneven cut of dark auburn hair. Her lips were full and red, and her fingernails were impossibly long and strong. She spoke to Darren, "The important thing Darren is that you trust me, that I will only "force" you to do things that deep inside you want to do. Your slavery is really not to me, but it's an addiction to your desires. That addiction will remain with you whether you become my slave or not. But as my slave, you will have access to all your desires and fetishes for as long as I choose to own you. If, for any reason, I don't want to own you any longer, I will find a suitable replacement owner, or, as is also stated in this contract, I will release you from service and give to you $80,000 to start life anew. I have no plans to ever release you, as you will always be useful in some way. In the mean time I will love you, train you, clothe you, punish you as I see fit. In return, you will service my desires. Those desires are listed before you. Read them."

She leaned over, a slight creaking sound betraying the leather corset beneath her conservative dress. She kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"Your peace of mind is right here. Forever." She tapped the contract on the desk. "Think of the limits to your fantasies. Now go beyond them, way beyond them. That's what is offered here." She patted it again.

She glanced briefly at the lawyer and added, "Mr. Johnson says it should be obvious what to do. I say the same thing, but the context is reversed."

Darren smelled the leather and perfume, felt her kiss, heard the leather and the silky smooth voice of desire. All his assets. Slavery, total slavery...by his own consent. This was silly. But he had been lost in his faux life, had answered her internet ad to be her slave, had been smothered with all his fetishes over the last glorious week, and instead of feeling weakened, he felt stronger. True freedom was removal of choice. Who said that, he wondered?

He continued to read, but soon the fog of fantasy betrayed him, and the words, especially the key words of his dreams, exploded into mist on the pages, disappearing into the void of want. He flipped the pages until he stared at the last, a straight line above his full printed name.

He looked at the lawyer and said with a tremor in his voice, "I've made up my mind."

"Mr. Weber, don't sign it."

"Mr. Johnson," Darren said, "The idea of being totally owned by a woman is my ultimate desire and fantasy. You know nothing of that. Look at me for God's sake! How can I go on in the vanilla world when I want to be...like this?"

He touched the bra holding his breasts, glanced at Jade and added, "I trust her, and I wish to sign."

Jade couldn't believe this was finally happening. She watched as in a dream as Darren finally grasped the pen and signed with a strong flourish. She followed, and then the lawyer. A duplicate was also signed by all.

It was done.

The lawyer let out another long sigh and said, "Well, good luck with this Mr. Weber. I will list your house right away for the recommended price of $890,000 and when it is sold I will transfer the proceeds to Ms. McTier. Your other savings and deposits will also be transferred. You do realize what you have done, do you not?"

"Yes. Yes I do," he said, also in a dream.

The rays of sundried dust flashed out quickly and the room became darker to match the oak. Darren felt the warmth of a decision made wash over him. Then the steel collar closed on his neck, and he heard the lock clink shut with a finality that made the signing of the contract but a dim memory.

As Jade attached the leash to the collar, she turned to the lawyer and said, "You don't mind if I don't show you out do you? I have some urgent business to attend to."

"No, not at all. The business is done."

Then he turned to Darren and said, "Mr. Weber, Darren, err, Darlene I guess you will be now, I don't fully understand this, or you, but clearly this is your right, to make this act, and I have to go with it I guess. Ms. McTier, you have made a commitment here as well. My trailing notes will have a provision that I can interview "Darlene" after three months, in private, to make sure he is being treated properly. If he divulges anything that suggests he is not, I will call the police."

He glared at Jade and said, "Is that clear?"

Jade laughed out loud and said, "You really don't have a clue what he and I want, do you? Of course you can interview him, but he'll be a lot different then, and you'll feel pretty foolish I think. But, whatever, we'll see you in three months."

With that she jerked the leash and pulled Darren away, out of the room. The lawyer stared after them, smiled and shook his head. Now he had seen everything, he thought. As he began to gather up the papers, he heard the clip-clop of two pairs of high heels disappear down the long hallway to God-knows-where and to God-knows-what.

He turned and left the room in the opposite direction, stopping briefly to smell the scents left behind by the slave and his owner. Leather, and something else, what was it? He couldn't place it, but he felt a knot of excitement in his lower abdomen, his groin.

"Jesus Christ!" he said out loud, and he took himself to the door, let himself out, and climbed into his Lexus. As he drove away, he resolved to never come back here, not in three months, not ever. She was too much of something, too much to risk being exposed to...what was that smell anyway? Was it even a smell?