HIS CURVY OBSESSION

14 pages

Banks is leaning against his sofa- Relaxed and expecting.

I should sign but all I can think of is WHAT LED US HERE? WHY ME? WHAT BROUGHT US TOGETHER?

WHAT WENT WRONG... Or is It right?

"Sign" He orders like it's a statement and I look at him.

I sit back on the chair, the folder right on my laps waiting for me to sign.

He knows I read it.

“Page ten.” I say.

“Yes.”

“The termination clause.”

“Yes.”

“Mr Banks.” His eyes shoot up and I bite my upper lips, looking at him.

“This says the apartment is mine regardless.”

“Yes.”

“That’s not standard arrangements. You said I can terminate it, what if I do so just to own them. I don’t..”

“I’m aware of what standard arrangements include and this is mine.” He says flatly and I look at him.

He looks back with a look of finality and no room for explanation.

“Okay.” I say picking my battle as I take another sip.

I turn to page twelve.

The rules are here again. Formatted, numbered, the italicized text I read an hour ago in his car glaring at me with him sitting across me.

Seeing them in legal language is a different experience.

Symbol of the Dominant Party to be worn at all times in public.

Submissive Party will not address the Dominant Party as sir in any context.

That one. Still.

“The sir clause.” I say.

He says nothing.

“It’s in the Rules legal document.” I say.

“And you put it in the actual contract.”

“Is there a question.”

“No.” I pause.

"I just—” I look at him.

"It seems to matter to you.”

A beat. A nauseatingly disturbing silence

“Sign the document Eleanor.” He says.

I look at him for one more moment. At the man who laughed from his bones when I accused him of s*x slavery and then went quiet when I thanked him for not being what I feared.

Who put a termination clause in a contract that gives me everything and takes nothing back.

I pick up the pen.

"What do you gain from this?"

"You." I gulp

"Your body" My n*****s and cunt tingles when he adds it

"Satisfaction of watching your eyes bulge from the pleasure and money I provide" He continues and I feel my cheeks get hot.

“I have conditions.” I say and his jaw shifts.

"You’re in a precarious..."

“Position to be negotiating, I know.” I cut in, meeting his eyes.

"I have conditions anyway.” He pauses

“Speak.” He orders and I look at the document.

“The exclusivity clause runs one direction.” I say.

“I’m exclusive to you. You’re not exclusive to me.”

“Correct.”

“I want a right of first notification.” I say.

“Not exclusivity. I’m not asking for that. Just...."

Gosh! I drop the document and rub my sweaty palms. I need water or alcohol.

"if the arrangement changes. If there’s someone else while we’re..."

I stop, trying to choose the word carefully. “Concurrent. I want to know.”

He looks at me.

“Not for emotional reasons.” I add quickly.

"Because I'm absolutely not developing feelings, but for health reasons. Testing schedules. The document already covers this implicitly but I want it explicit.”

Silence but I notice a corner of his lips lift.

“Done.” He says and I exhale with a nod an heart that's about to burst out of my chest ribs.

“The urgent personal requirement clause.”

“What about it Eleanor?”

“Define reasonable notice.. Please.” I say,moving closer as I gain my voice.

"Specifically. Because urgent personal requirement covers every possible scenario including you deciding at 3am on a Tuesday that you...”

“Twenty-four hours standard.” He cut in.

“Twenty minutes minimum." is he kidding me? Twenty?

"Exceptions require agreement.” He adds

“Whose agreement?.” I question ready to explode

“Mutual.” He says without hesitation.

"But you should know your body and time belongs to me and you respond whenever I call or demand" He adds matter of fact and I breathe in

"What of me? I might be too occupied, far away and busy to reply to your call or demands…Master”

He leans back into his chair, legs crosed on each other and palms held together with an unwavering gaze at me. A look that says i’m delusional

“You’ll have your car and a prior notice sent to me if you’ll be outside my reach” In nutshell, I’m selling my freedom for two million dollars monthly.

I stifle a chuckle… I’ve sold it for eight hundred dollars monthly at my job… He can buy my family’s own if he’s in the mood

“The therapy provision.” I say.

“It’s optional."

“I know it’s optional.” I say.

"I just want you to know I’ll use it.” I look up at him

“I want you to know that going in. I’ll talk to someone about this. About us..." I gesture vaguely at the space between us.

"All of it. And whatever they say, I’ll factor in.” And I'll share my location with my siblings always. But I don't say that. I'll also try involve my former friend that was an officer then reporter.

I don't say this though.

Banks looks at me for a long moment.

“Good.” He concurs and I blink.

"You’re not.....you don’t want to know what I...”

“What you discuss in therapy is yours.” He says. Simply.

“I put the provision in because you should have someone outside this to talk to. What you say to them is not my business.”

I look at the document. Look at him.

Stop it Eleanor. This man seems genuine.

“Anything else?.” He says.

I turn to the last page. The signature lines.

His name already there.

Banks O. Wellington in a clean handwriting

“What does the O stand for?.” I question looking at his face. It widens then return back to a brooding dark.

"Sign Anor" Of course he won't divulge personal information. I pick up the pen and don't sign.

There must be something I'm missing.

He looks at me over his cup. Something at the corner of his mouth.

“Mine.” He says and I drink my coffee, saying nothing.

But I feel the word land in my chest and settle there and I make a note to discuss it thoroughly with the therapist I’m absolutely going to book sooner than later.

"I've to say you impressed me" I try not to spill back the coffee as I stare at him. What does he mean?