Page 91 of Good Girl

Darcy offers me the first sheet of paper. “This is to say that our first contract and its extension are complete, with satisfaction from both parties. Have a quick read of that, and if you’re okay, sign and date at the bottom.”

Derek offers me a pen.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I reply, eyes already scanning the few paragraphs on the page.

It all looks fine. I’ll be receiving the last of the money today, and the short-term, temporary nature of this contract is now complete.

I squiggle my name at the bottom of the page, still a little weirded out that I have legal autonomy over myself now. For most of my life, I’ve had to get approval from my caseworker to get a haircut.

I hand back the page, and three more are given to me.

“This is our new contract. Take your time reading this one. If you have any questions, at all, ask.”

My heart is in my throat as I begin to read.

They are established as the dominants and me, the submissive.

It mentions exclusivity between us for the duration of the contract.

My weekends from Friday five p.m. to Sunday at four p.m. are theirs.

Safe words are discussed, with zero changes to how we used them this weekend.

There is a very long paragraph on aftercare. Showers. Baths. Cuddles. Massages. Candles. Creams. Oils. Vibrators. Food. Water. So much fucking water.

Then I get to the list of activities that will be required of me. Where I am expecting a menu of sex requests and requirements, I find something so completely unexpected, I frown.

“You want to take me on non-sexual dates?”

“Yes.”

I glance over at Hudson, who has reclined back against the couch, one arm thrown across the backrest. That’s all he gives me, just that one word.

“As in, dinner and a movie?” I attempt to clarify.

“That, and maybe to a live show, out for breakfast. That sort of thing.”

“Will the dates be outside of the weekend activities?”

“It will depend on everyone’s availability, but most likely, yes.”

So, some weeknights and every weekend.

Okay, then.

I go back to reading but pause almost immediately. “What’s Club Obsession?”

“It is the BDSM club we are all members of,” Derek explains. “We’ll be adding you as a guest to my account, which will get you access to the club without requiring you to sign up as a member.”

“What will happen at the club?” I ask, my curiosity well and truly sending me the way of the cat.

“Whatever we have planned for the night. The club has public, semi-public, and private rooms. It caters to a vast majority of kinks. Though we like doing public scenes, we’re happy to negotiate this with you. But it would all be very similar to this weekend, just different flavors and levels of what we have already done with you.”

I swallow. Four thousand questions riffling through my head, but my brain locks on one word.Negotiate. I can handle that. If I truly do not want to do something, I can say no, and I can also use my safe words. Or I can end the contract.

Okay.

Turning to the second page, I find the list of sex activities I’d been expecting.

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