tagBDSMChelsea's Contract Ch. 01

Chelsea's Contract Ch. 01


{Part one of "Chelsea's contract"}

The time was finally here. I was standing at his doorstep. I could see him approaching the door. I was wearing the tightest jeans imaginable and a belly-baring crop top. I was advertising myself. I felt like such a fool for wanting this, yet I'd desired it for years now. I wasn't even sure if he'd remember me, or worse, if he'd laugh in my face and throw me out. With what I was going to offer to him, I wasn't even sure if he would be justified for doing so. Still, I thought, what guy would turn down what I was offering? He looked through the curtain with a slightly puzzled look and opened the door.

"May I help you?" he asked, with only a hint of interest.

His name was Jordan. We were both 28. 28, wow, ten years since high school now. I hadn't seen him but from afar for ten years. He was still muscular. He was a star of the football team then. He had that, "aw shucks" kind of Tom Brady cuteness. His muscles still rippled under his shirt, no doubt due to his work in his daddy's construction business. I'd done my homework. It's amazing how much you can learn about a person online. Facebook can be your own private investigator. I knew that he still lived in our hometown. I'd since moved away. I knew where he worked. I even knew he was "single and looking." I also knew that it didn't mean he was looking for me. He'd never paid any attention to me in high school. I was kind of a mousy nerd then. I hadn't developed, either physically or emotionally. My breasts which were once small and barely noticeable were now full and inviting, even more so with my purposely revealing top. I took a deep breath and smiled.

"Jordan? It's Chelsea Lane. Ridgeway high, remember?"

His lip curled slightly into a smile. "Not really. I mean I remember high school," he laughed. "Just not you, at least I don't think so."

My heart began to sink. I didn't seem to be interesting him at all, even dressed as I was and willing for...well...whatever. Before I lost him completely I had to find a way in.

"I was friends with Randi," I said, looking for his reaction.

His smile turned into a grin. "Randi," he laughed, "now her I remember...nothing personal," he said apologetically. I couldn't help seeing his arms flex naturally as he leaned against the door. God, he was sexy, even in his wife beater sleeveless shirt. Hell, he was everything I should not want in a man. His house was a mess, like a frat house after a party. He was unshaven, I'm sure that he was wearing the same clothes that he wore yesterday. He had a beat up old truck parked in the driveway. He was a guy whose best years were already behind him. Everyone else had moved on, moved out of town, as I did, even if it was just two towns over. Jordan had stayed. He'd stayed and would become his father, an old drunk hanging down at the local bar talking about his high school glory. Still, here I was, drooling over his physique and about to propose something that I'd longed for for years.

"It's ok," I smiled, "she was the popular one."

Randi was the reason why I was here, on his doorstep. Randi was a slut, pure and simple. The stories about her were legendary. I was her friend from grade school so I can personally vouch for some of them so I have no doubt the rest of them were true. Randi was blonde with tits to die for and a body hotter than the sun. She had boys eating out of her hand (and no doubt other places as well). I had to watch from the side as guys buzzed around her all day, all the while longing for the kind of attention she got naturally. Unwittingly, she tortured me with her sluttiness. I often had to "stand guard" for her as a lookout, as she dragged some lucky oaf into the janitor's closet or out in the woods for a blowjob or a quick fuck. She had no idea what she was doing to me as my own fire raged for what she had. She had no clue what aching I had as she'd finish her business. She'd appear out of the darkness with an embarrassed smile, often kissing me on the cheek as thanks. The intoxicating aroma of cum that was emanating from her lips just added to my torture. I wasn't sure if I was here because it was my own nature or whether years of having it thrown in my face did something to me. Regardless, I was here, ready for it. I'd just gotten out of a marriage where my ex was as interested in sex as I was in his droll re-counting of his boring days at the office. He had no interest nor care in my desires, and he had none of his own that I could gather. Not that he, nor anyone else in his position, would cater to my particular desire which led me here. I'd decided on Jordan because he was one of Randi's favorites. He was in on a lot of her adventures. I knew he'd need less explanation, he'd already seen what I'd be proposing.

"Come on in," he said.

The mention of Randi had gotten me in the door as I'd hoped and suspected. He apologized for the mess. I shook my head. I still couldn't believe it was this kind of guy who was going to get to share my fantasy, that is, if he'd even have me. That thought alone was humiliating. The thought that I would leave myself open and vulnerable and that he could just laugh in my face had my heart racing.

"So what about Randi, how is she doing?" He asked, his interest evident now.

"Oh, I'm sure she's fine," I smiled. "I haven't seen her in a few years now, but, as you know, she will always do fine."

I finally caught him taking a peek at the tops of my breasts, which were spilling out of the top nicely. I purposely squeezed my arms together when I saw him looking, in order to accentuate the effect. I was starting to interest him, I could see it. "So what brings you here then...?" He started, before realizing he'd already forgotten my name.

"Chelsea..." I said with an embarrassed resignation. Here I was, about to offer it all, give it all to someone who can't even remember my name and probably wouldn't, ten minutes after. Hell, in a way though, it probably inflamed me even more. Humiliation seemed to be a big part of what I was going to offer. He offered me a beer and we chatted inanely for awhile. He really wasn't interesting at all but he had an animal magnetism that was undeniable. He was getting loosened up now. He definitely was flirting. I could see the beast in him starting to show. He could see he had a willing victim and he was starting to circle. I wanted him too but I had a greater agenda than just getting fucked on his dirty floor, on top of god knows how many days of dirty underwear. I kept bringing up Randi and kept hinting at what she'd done in high school. I think he was afraid to be totally frank, being that I was her friend, but I helped him along. I started being more forward about it.

"Remember that time on the school bus?" I said as I watched his eyes open wide.

I was bluffing. I had no idea what happened on that bus other than what other people had told me. I knew, however, that he wouldn't remember that I wasn't there, hell, I'm sure he'd forgotten my name again already.

"Oh god yes, the bus," He said, his lust now evident. Still, he was embarrassed, I could tell as his face reddened.

"It's ok," I said reassuringly as I rubbed his knee. "She was a slut, we all knew it."

"God yes," he laughed, finally free to open up. "I can't believe how much cum she swallowed that night...I mean, the whole offensive team...and many of us more than once," he said, before catching himself. He looked at me as if he'd said too much. I just smiled.

"I know, she told me after that that was one of the best times she remembered from high school."

"Really?" he asked, incredulously. "I have to admit, some of those times..." he started, wistfully, "...were my best as well."

I couldn't help but notice a growing lump in his shorts. It was working. There was a fire in him now. It was as if the ghosts of the past were waking. He looked more like the winner he was in high school, his face was proud, strong. There was a confidence in him now that was previously lacking. He got to the point.

"So...Chelsea..." he said, proud of himself that he'd remembered my name. "What is it that brings you here, surely it isn't just to talk about Randi." He leaned in close to me, he put his arm around me, he was making his move.

My heart was thumping, it had come to it. It was as if I was hooked up directly to an electric outlet.

"I...uh...well, honestly..." I hemmed as his arm pulled me in closer, his leg now touched mine. His hand was sliding from my shoulder down to the outside of my breast. I knew I'd better come out with it before my mouth was full of his cock and his cum and any chance that I had to use his lust to further my plans would vanish. I pulled away from him slightly to face him.

"Listen, you don't know how hard it is for me to come here, to ask you this," I said with urgency.

"Ask me what?" he said, his eyes on fire. He pulled me in close, he planted a kiss on my lips that could melt the ice caps. I had to fight my own lust to push him away.

"Seriously, Jordan," I said pleadingly.

He just smiled mockingly. He knew he had me. He knew he was going to conquer me. He knew he'd be planted inside me shortly. For now though, he was willing to let me dangle.

"Ok," he chuckled, "what is so important?"

I brought up Randi again. This time I was more specific. I reminded him of all those things she did, mostly the ones with him, the ones I knew for a fact. He smiled lustily. He nodded knowingly after each one.

"So"? he asked impatiently. He was like a tiger. He wanted his prey, I had to finally spill it.

"I watched Randi all those years. I watched how guys used her. How she willingly took it. I watched how turned on she got doing it. From the outside it looked so embarrassing, so humiliating. I mean, how did she put up with everyone knowing what she was doing? I couldn't imagine how she could stand people talking about her like that.

"Yeah, that had to be tough," Jordan said in a moment of compassion.

"But that's the thing," I said with emphasis, "she dug that. She would tell me that that was the very thing she enjoyed. We were the ones with the hang-ups. She already knew who she was, what she was. She was a slut, a proud one, she had no problem with that whatsoever. And, god bless her heart, no doubt she's somewhere, right now, on her back with some strange guy's cock up her pussy and loving it."

Jordan could only smile. His hands were now on my tits, he was massaging them gently as I spoke. I wanted to strip off my clothes and climb on top of his glorious cock, and yes, he had a glorious cock. I'd seen it a couple times as Randi took him in her pouty slut mouth. She hadn't meant for me to see but I'd peeked in on them, lost in my own lust. He knew he was going to have me, he was more comfortable now allowing me to talk, he knew I wasn't going to escape.

"Ok, we both know Randi was a slut, an awesome one at that," He grinned. "But, what does that have to do with you, with us, at this moment in time?"

"I want what she had," I blurted out, finally spilling my secret that I'd harbored for over a decade now.

"What? Want what she had?" he asked in confusion.

"Yessss," I hissed in a sexual fever, my lust was now mixed with fear, embarrassment and adrenaline. "I want what she had, all of it. I want to be used by men like she was. I want to be taken like a slut. I want strangers to have me, I want it all, just like she had it," I said, collapsing in his strong arms.

"Wow," he said in shock. "What the fuck? I mean really? So you are starting with me...." he said, staring into my eyes which now sported tears. He'd forgotten my name again.

"CHELSEA!" I whined. In some ways the humiliation of having to keep reminding him of my name just added to my sexual fever.

He pushed me away for the moment. His eyes burned into my very soul. He didn't say a word for the longest time. He stood up. He paced around me.

"I don't get this," he said. "I mean look at you, you've obviously been thinking about this for years now. I can see you are well to do, at least well to do, relatively. Why me? Why now? Is this some kind of a trap, like trying to get pregnant or something? I don't get why someone like you would come here and say that. What is it that you want, exactly?"

I was sobbing softly now. I was as embarrassed as I'd ever been. I couldn't believe now that I'd actually said it to him. I should've expected his reaction. My mind was spinning.

"I just wanted to experience what she had," I said, crying softly.

"And you just wanted to start with me?" he asked, with a softer tone now.

"No, that wasn't it at all," I said. "I just figured that you, of all people, would understand, since you'd been with her so often."

"So what did you want from me then, if it wasn't to fuck?"

"I didn't say that I didn't want you to fuck me..." I started, before I halted, embarrassed again. I couldn't look him in the eye. "I want you to make it happen, like you did for her. I heard about you, I watched you back then. You made sure she was good and used. I want that too."

He started to smile again. "So you want me to be like your pimp?"

"No! Well, yes, I guess...kind of," I said, not even sure myself now. "I want you to set things up, like you did with her, to make sure that I get good and used, like she did back then, god, I can't even say this right...does this make any sense at all?"

He had a knowing look now. "Well, I can't say the why of it makes sense, but, I'm starting to get the what. Let's see if I can help you out. What you want is...you want me to use you, sexually..." he said, all the while gauging my reaction. I could only nod. "but, beyond that, it's not just me you want to use you..." he said as he waited for my response. Again, I nodded affirmatively. He wouldn't stand for that. He made me say it.

"Yes, sir, that's what I want." I said submissively.

He beamed at the "sir" thing. It had been many years since he'd felt like a king, he was soaking it up now. It was as I'd hoped.

"So, you want to be used sexually, I got that. But how? How often? By how many? I mean, what are your expectations? What are the parameters here?

"I...I don't really have any..." I choked out. "I mean, I don't want to be hurt, physically, of course. But as far as giving pleasure, I don't have limitations...I just want you to think of the kinds of things Randi did, and make me do those as well."

"I see," he said, as he rubbed his chin knowingly. He was definitely getting it now. "So it's more than just a slut thing," he said. "I see that it also a control thing. It's not just that you want to have a bunch of sex. It is also important that you be made to do it, set up to do it by someone else, that someone being me."

"Yesss..." I mumbled quickly, adding, "and the more humiliating the better." God, I couldn't believe I said that, it was all out there now. There was no more hiding. It was all up to him now. I lay in a heap on his stained couch. I was panting from the strain of it all.

"Well, I can see that you aren't here for some other nefarious purpose. I guess you are legitimate. I mean, it's quite a surprising offer and lord do I miss those days of Randi," he said, laughing at himself. "Ok, I get what you want, at least I think I do. Before I decide though, this all has to be worked out. I mean, what's in it for me?"

"Well, sex with a hot, sexy woman?" I said, as I looked up at him, his eyes clearly finding my tits.

He laughed, "well, yeah. But, seriously, I want to be clear on all of this. As of now what you want to happen to you is all speculation. You can say you want to be used, by me, by others. But really what does that mean in reality? I think we need to draw up some ground rules."

"Like a contract?" I said hopefully, I'd considered all of it so many times before, it was now well rehearsed.

"Damn, yeah, like a contract. You'd do that?"

"If it helps you, sir," I said, demurely. I wanted to do it more than he would ever know.

"Yes, yes it would," he smiled. He got a pen and a piece of paper. The humiliation of what I was about to agree to had me at a fever pitch. "Ok, let's see, article one..." he grinned proudly at his attempt to make it appear legal. "What should the first thing be, and be specific, like it was an official contract."

I already had been through this in my mind. I got on my knees beside him. He was sitting at his dining table. He just looked down at me and smiled.

"I think article one should be about us, sir, about what your rights are with me."

He smiled, "I like that, I agree."

Write this, if you wish, sir. "I, Chelsea Lane agree to allow Jordan Ryan full use of her body sexually. As often and in any fashion he so chooses, outside of causing permanent physical injury."

"Ooo, very nice," he said. "I think we need a time frame though, I mean, this isn't for eternity."

"No, I agree, sir, what do you think is appropriate?

"I don't know," he said. He obviously hadn't thought this all out like I had, "how about one month?"

"How about three months, sir?" I said quickly, with shame, my head down to avoid his gaze.

"Three months?" he chuckled. He ran his hand through my hair like he was petting his dog. I loved that thought. "Three months it is."

"Yes, sir," I nodded.

"Ok, on to article two," he said, he was now fully engaged.

"I think article two should be about others, sir."

"I agree," he said with growing lust. His hand found his way to my breasts again and he idly stroked them as we stopped for a moment to think about this next paragraph. "Take them out," he said with a growing gruffness. I looked up and nodded. I removed my top, it left my bare tits free for him to fondle. He pawed them roughly, I could only moan. He brought me back to task. "Article two, sex with others, what are you agreeing to?"

He wanted me to say it, he knew more about humiliation than I gave him credit for. He was playing me like a Stradivarius.

"How about this, sir, if you agree...I Chelsea Lane agree to allow Jordan Ryan to transfer his sexual rights to her body, outlined in article one, to any others that he chooses."

"Hmm, I like it," he smiled with a mock cruelness, "however, it's missing something."

"What is that, sir?"

"I think this is where I need the most clarification," he said. "I mean, others, that's vague. Who? When? How many? How often?"

"I guess that would be up to you," I said hopefully.

"That doesn't really help," he mused. "I mean, would you suck the mailman off if I asked? Would you fuck my best friend? Would you pick up a guy in a bar and take him home? Would you fuck a black guy? Would you take on all my poker buddies?" he asked thoughtfully. He was definitely winging it.

I looked at him directly. "Um, yes, yes, yes, yes.....and yes," I said with purpose. I was squirming in my own juices now.

"Ok, I guess that clears that up, however, it's still not written as concisely in legalese as I want."

I thought about it for a second. "Ok, how about this? I Chelsea Lane agree to allow Jordan Ryan to transfer his sexual rights to her body, as outlined in article one, to any others he chooses as often and in any fashion he chooses," I said, emphasizing the change.

"That is perfect!" he smiled, he was tugging on my nipples now, he was making me shift from knee to knee in wonderful discomfort.

"Do we need anything else, I mean, this is pretty comprehensive," he said, scanning his hastily written document.

I looked down again, in embarrassment. "Can you put something in there about humiliation?"

"Like what, for example?" He asked. He was making me spill it again. I was nearly gushing.

"How about, Mr. Ryan agrees to make the sexual use as humiliating and embarrassing as he can, based on his prior experiences with Randi?"

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