I want to apologize for taking so long to update.
Keep in mind this story is part of my other story, 'If I Were You' so you might want to read it to understand this a bit better. Some of you might not want to read it because it's a sasusaku fanfic but it's not all about Sasuke and Sakura, it does have some NaruHina in there too. ;)
Happy reading!
The Contract
Journal 5, entry 1
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Master. Submission. A contract that says he owns me for his personal pleasure. It's my decision whether to dare to tread that path or not. Sitting here on my bed in my fluffy pajamas with a glass of wine in hand, these things seem like they are meant for someone else's life, not mine.
Truly, I'm surprised that this decision wasn't the only thing on my mind at work today. I was certain that it, and the man involved, even the call to Dr. Kat, would consume me all day. But art is a gift to this world that I'm passionate about, and its allure enticed me away from my fretful worries about handing over control to a man I barely know but find impossible to resist. Being able to separate him from my art is actually quite comforting. I don't have to lose who I am to be part of who he is.
By midmorning I wasn't even thinking about the contract points I wanted to discuss with him, or of having been tied to his bed. Or all the wicked things he'd done to me while I was tied there, or even all the wicked things he might do to me in the future. A customer gave me a tip about a man in Seattle who had a rare masterpiece he was thinking of letting go for a steal. It took me hours to track him down, but I actually managed to get through to him. I talked him into meeting with Naruto about auctioning it off through Riptide. Naruto was in NYC at Riptide today, so I had to call him. I'm smiling just replaying the way the call went. I have to admit, I do enjoy verbally sparring with my new boss.
"Ms. Hyuga, this better be important."
I replied with a happy gloat. "If you call a chance to get an original 'Mercury' worth a cool million for only half of that important, then I guess it is."
He was silent for a moment and then said, "Are you certain?"
"I spoke with the owner myself. He's in Seattle and he's agreed to see you."
"Why would he let it go at this price?"
"He wanted 600k. I told him I could get him 500k within the week."
"You're very confident with my money."
"I'm very confident in how much money this can make us both. His business is in trouble and he needs the cash."
"He told you this?"
"People tell me things. I'm a much better listener than talker."
"Indeed," he surprised me by agreeing. "Email me the details."
"I already did M-Mr. Uzumaki."
He was silent for a moment. "I'll say good work if I get the painting for 500k."
"I'm looking forward to it, Mr. Uzumaki."
If that painting sells for a million, I'll make 10 percent! It's too good to be true. How can this be my life? Of course, the auction is six months from now so I won't get my hopes up, but it's truly amazing to have the potential to make this income.
But now, it's time to think about the contract in front of me. It's long. It's scary. It's... not me, so why am I reading it?
Dr. Kat said to talk through my limits, and the first four items on the contract all bother me, That doesn't seem like a good start.
* I accept that I shall be placed in and kept under strict discipline without time limit.
Without time limit is a No Go for me.
* I accept any form of punishment meted out to me while under discipline.
What is punishment? And why the heck would I say yes? Hmmm-the flogging had been rather erotic. Is that what is meant by punishment?
* I accept any form of restraint without time limit.
No time limit is a NO.
* I agree to obey my Master in all respects. Mind, body, heart, and time belong to him.
My time belongs to him? My mind? No.
* I will have the right to operate at work, in my daily routine, without this agreement interfering. I may dress, communicate, and function as the job dictates necessary.
Well, that helps a little, but not much.
* I accept the responsibility of using my safe word when necessary, and trust implicitly in my Master to respect the use of that safe word
This, I believe I can live with. So we have one thing I'm okay with. One. This isn't going so well.
* I will always speak of my Master in terms of love and respect. She will address him at all times as "Master."
This will take getting used to, but I'll figure it out. So I've found a second thing I can live with.
* I agree that my Master possesses the right to determine whether others can use my body and what use they may put it to.
Share me? This bothers me more than anything. How can he care about me if he wants to share me? Who would he share me with? Am I kidding myself to think he would care about me? This is sex. Just sex. In so many ways, it's what I want. No ties. No emotions. No interference in my job and career goals. Yet he wants to own my mind, time, body, and heart. It's confusing.
What's even more confusing is that I'm not saying no to this. Why would I allow myself to be submissive, a slave to another person?
But I know the answer: because it's him. There's something about him. What, I don't know. It's almost as if I feel like he can complete me in some way, and I'm not even sure how that is. This terrifies me. I don't want another person to be what completes me. And sharing me... Do I want to be shared? It's hard to imagine being with more than one person. Would I do it to please him? Would it please me? I've never thought of such a thing. I don't think I can do this. No. I can't. I'm going to tell him no. This is NOT me.
Friday, February 18, 2011
I didn't deal with my submissive/Master scenario today. The timing just wasn't right. I had too much going on at the gallery, and Naruto was in Seattle to meet with my potential seller. I kept hoping to hear from him, but I didn't. I don't know what that means. I'm climbing the walls, wondering if he bought the painting for Riptide. Surely he knows what a big deal it is to me? But then, Naruto seems to enjoy making me squirm. I must have asked Hanabi a hundred times if he'd called in. I finally left him a message. He didn't call back. How am I ever going to sleep with two huge open issues?
Saturday, February 19, 2011
The minute I walked into the gallery today and found out from Hanabi that Naruto was in, I started for his office, only to be told that Kiba was with him. It just made me crazy to have to wait; I've been dying to know what happened in Seattle. Then I started to worry about what Naruto and Kiba might be talking about. Two hours passed and they still were in Naruto's office, which made no sense to me. They don't even seem to like each other all that much. I had no idea what they could have been talking about and still don't.
When they finally came out of the office I was with a customer, and Naruto and Kiba left together. Naruto didn't return by the time the gallery closed and I couldn't help myself. I called him. He didn't answer. He texted me instead with: I sent him a contract. He'll want his attorney to review it. Expect this to take weeks.
Weeks! And a contract! I almost choked when I read that part of the message. Once again, a contract stands between me and the prize.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Sasuke came into the gallery to see Naruto today. The two of them seem to share a mutual respect, and maybe a friendship. It's hard to tell with two such controlling men. They are so alike and so different, those two. Naruto is hard on the surface, while Sasuke jokes with the entire staff and everyone seems to like him. But the share the same underlying strength and power. Each commands the room when he enters.
I want to be like them, to be that confident, that in control. So how could I be a submissive to a Master and ever be those things? And why am I still thinking about this, when I already decided I wasn't going to sign the contract?
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Toneri showed up at the gallery today and Naruto didn't seem pleased. No. That's an understatement. He was pissed Toneri actually interrupted me while I was with a customer and wanted to talk. The customer wasn't pleased. Naruto ordered Temari to take over the client and directed me to his office. I can still see the gloating look on Temari's face that said she was thrilled to see me in hot water. And I was in hot water. The conversation with Naruto wasn't a good one.
"Your 'boy' needs to visit on breaks or lunch, not while I have a millionaire on the floor trying to buy art."
"I didn't invite him."
"Nor have you controlled him. Deal with him, Ms. Hyuga. That will be all. You can leave."
Talk about feeling smacked down. He dismissed me that fast. I stood there and weighed my options. The truth seemed my only defense, so I said, "I've tried and failed. I don't understand why, but he just won't go away."
He arched a blond brow at me. "Are you telling me he's stalking you?"
"No-no. I don't want to say that, but it is getting a little creepy."
"Do I need to handle this for you?"
"God, no. I'll handle it. I will."
"But you haven't."
"I was worried about hurting his feelings."
"So you haven't handled it at all."
"I told him I wasn't interested."
"Tell him so he knows you mean it."
His voice turned pure ice.
I didn't even know what to say to that. I simply assured him I'd handle it and started to leave.
"Ms. Hyuga." I paused at the door with dread in my stomach before turning back to him. "Kiba Inuzuka sent you flowers. He's stopped by several times. You might not see it Hinata, but the rest of us do. He's temperamental and goes off the deep end in a blink. I do not want this ability you have to draw unstable male attention to cost me an artist."
"The flowers were a welcome to the gallery gift," I said defensively, and I immediately thought of the long meeting he's had with Kiba. Had Kiba said something to him about me?
"No man sends roses on Valentine's Day as a welcome gift. You're smarter than that, Ms. Hyuga. Open your eyes."
I doubt Naruto would send a woman flowers for any reason, but I bit my tongue, knowing I might regret a rebuttal later. "I'll handle Toneri and Kiba." I turned to leave again and he let me.
The rest of the day, I just wanted to be out of the gallery for the first time since I started my job. When I got home, I stood in front of the mirror and stared at myself, taking in my dark hair and light gray eyes. Staring at my image, I thought of Naruto's comment and wondered if there was something about me that drew unstable men. Not that I think Kiba is unstable, as Naruto had implied, though clearly, Toneri is a little off his rocker. And I'm not used to all this male attention. Woman like Ava get male attention. She's gorgeous and I'm... average. The girl next door who wishes she was the beauty queen.
And here I am, sitting at my kitchen table in my oh-so-glamorous cotton PJs and eating cereal. With the contract next to me. The one thing I keep thinking is that when I was with my would-be "Master," I felt beautiful. I felt safe. I felt like I was his world. I had an escape from things like today's stresses.
The escape had to be (is?) the allure of the relationship. I've considered the punishment clause and it doesn't bother me all that much now because I do feel safe with him. Maybe that's naïve, but it's how I feel. But the sharing thing-that still bothers me. What if it was with another woman? How inferior would I feel? How incapable of pleasing him?
I just need to tell him this won't work. I don't know why I haven't already. He won't come to me, he's said when he'd given me the contract. I have to go to him, he'd said. I have to make the willing choice to pursue him as my Master.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Morning...
I dreamed of him... He'd tied me to his bed again, only this time I was facedown, unable to see him. I wanted to see him but I didn't feel a fear of the unknown. He wasn't touching me, but as crazy as it sounds, I could feel him. There was something about him in that dream that just reached inside me and slid straight to my soul. I had no idea what he was going to do to me. I was certain though, that he knew best. He'd make whatever we did, whatever he did to me, pleasurable. He'd know what I needed.
I know it wasn't real, but it seemed like it was, and I've never felt that with anyone else except my mother. It's odd to compare my mother and a Master tying me to a bed, I know, but I have nothing else to compare it to. There is no one who has ever been close enough to me to gain my trust but these two people.
In the dream, and it was a dream, not a nightmare, I waited with breathless anticipation for what he would do to me. He spread me wide, his fingers sliding intimately between my thighs, stroking me, teasing me. I cannot believe how vividly I can remember the feel of him touching me. He'd been gentle in a way I didn't expect, taking me to the edge of orgasm and then abruptly withdrawing.
He'd returned to snap a crop against the mattress, making me jump. He'd warned me he wasn't going to be as gentle with me from that point forward. He'd told me it was time to leave it behind, to experience more. I'm surprised to remember how much that warning pleased me. And even more surprised at how I'd welcomed the snap of the crop on my backside, and reveled in how it became harder with each touch. I'd been shaking and panting with the sting of the leather, but I'd been aroused. And when finally (and yet too soon) it has been over, he'd kissed me from top to bottom, licking every spot he's used the crop on. He'd been gentle again and he'd ended up between my legs, pressing my backside in the air and lapping at me until I came. And then he'd been inside me, filling me, stretching me, and it had been glorious until the dream had shifted and faded.
Suddenly I was inside my recurring nightmare of my mother, but I can't remember what happened. I just know there had been icy water, and I'd sat up in my bed gasping for air. Then the smell of my mother's perfume had permeated my nostrils. And the sense of doom I keep trying to escape returned, and now it won't go away.
To have the dream become this nightmare is unsettling. What does it mean? Is my mind warning me that my mother betrayed me, and he will, too?
Evening...
I'm siting at my kitchen table with the contract by my side and yet another box of cereal in front of me. I've just hung up from a disastrous call with Toneri and I feel sick to my stomach. Since nothing else has worked, I told him I was seeing someone new and I couldn't see him anymore. He'd asked who it was and then got pretty ugly with me when I wouldn't say. I'm shocked at how he talked to me; the things he said were just unbelievable. He was nothing like the sweet guy I feared I was going to crush. His anger was downright vile. It scared me, and I don't scare easily. Really, it's been a bad day overall. I'm ready for it to be over.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Before going to work I stopped at the coffee shop, and Sasuke was there, sitting at a table sketching. I see him there several times a week, but I still get an adrenaline rush every time I do. He's just so talented and cool.
I stood in line, my eyes drawn to Sasuke, watching him work. It's a gift to see an artist involved in his craft. His head was down, his longish raven hair was touching his collar, his expression one of deep concentration. I could have stared at him forever, watching the creative process, and didn't even realize I was next in line until Ava joked that she often got lost watching him herself. I imagine she does.
I left and I don't think Sasuke knew I was there. I was invisible. No, that's not right. He has too much control to not have known when I walked in and when I left. He simply didn't want to invite conversation or attention. I guess it's about being in his creative zone, because when he comes into the gallery, he's friendly. But he's hard to figure out, and I didn't expect for him to notice me. I never do. But... for some reason, today it bothered me.
Evening...
There were hardly any customers in the gallery, so I had to cold call and try to get people into the store. Temari was busy preparing for a private party being held at the gallery tomorrow night. She wasn't happy that I didn't want to help. I think she gets some sort of bonus for booking these events, and I think it motivates her more than the art. And it's not that I don't want to help. It's simply not a smart use of my time. Booking a ten-thousand-dollar event that we net only five thousand on doesn't equal selling one expensive piece of art. So today I was snubbed by a famous artist and Temari was irritated at me. And now I'm staring at the contract.
Somehow, I don't think tonight is the night to call my would-be "Master" and tell him I can't let him tie me up and have his wicked way with me, no matter how tempting that sounds at this moment. I'm not sure what that says about me-that I want to be tied up and at his mercy on a night I feel weak. Maybe it's what he said. That I need a safe place where I can just let go. The problem is, the contract makes that incapable of truly happening.
And on that note, I'm going to end this day the only way I can. I'm going to eat an entire bag of potato chips and go with my box of cereal. I'll regret both in the morning, but at least I'll still be in control of me.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Lunch Time...
Naruto called me into his office this morning, before I left for a private showing at Kiba's gallery. I wasn't sure what to expect. I always steel myself for the impact of being alone with him. He owns you when you walk into the room. He owns you when he walks into a room. And while I'm not immune to the impact he has on everyone around him, I've often been challenged by him, eager to prove I can hold my own. Today was odd for me, because I never had a chance to do that. But it really shouldn't surprise me, I guess. I'm still rattled by the way he confronted me over Toneri and Kiba.
He didn't get up from his desk. He simply steepled his fingers together and ordered, "Shut the door." I did as he said and added, "I know you're leaving for a meeting, so I'll make this quick. You do know Kiba doesn't allow private showings?"
"No. I didn't know."
"He doesn't even allow us a full collection here."
"W-why?" I asked.
"He's all about leverage. And to be clear, Ms. Hyuga, I will not allow him to use his art to manipulate you. We do not need his business-not with our Riptide connections. And you do not need his commissions. Not with the potential Riptide offers you."
"But-but you said you don't want to lose him as an artist."
"I repeat, I will not allow him to manipulate you," was his only explanation of conflicting messages.
"I won't let him."
"I won't let him. Do you understand, Ms. Hyuga?"
"Y-yes," I whispered.
"You aren't convincing me."
"Yes," I said more clearly. "I understand."
I let his office confused and bemused. I've gone from having no men in my life to being surrounded by powerful, talented, rich, controlling me, and it's messing with my head. I can't seem to figure it out where I stand and where I belong.
When I took the client to Kiba's gallery, the woman didn't make a purchase and I felt embarrassed. I wanted to impress Kiba and Naruto with a sale. I wanted Kiba to know I am not wasting his time. He looked at me with gentle understanding eyes that twisted me in knots. There is nothing about him that says manipulative to me. Nothing that says he is what everyone else says he is.
I left with my client, wishing I could have stayed and talked to Kiba. I didn't call him later in the day, either, though I was tempted. I don't know what it is about him that sets everyone else off, but it doesn't happen to me. If anything, he relaxes me. Well, when I put aside how talented and famous he is.
I'm feeling very out of control. I need to figure out what is wrong with me. I have a dream job. This is what I've always wanted. I need to snap out of whatever is bugging me, and I'm hoping the weekend will give me time to think.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Evening...
I decided what was bugging me was the contract, and my constant distraction due to the ideas it represents. No matter how tempting the man, the agreement is simply a deal breaker, and I think its being up in the air is influencing how I react to everything. Saying no to this contract is a good thing. The man is barely in my life and he's already taken it over. He can be in my life without taking it over if I take this off the table.
So... I emailed him the instant I got him, before I could talk myself out of it. The subject line was: Contract is a deal breaker. The content of the email read simply, "While you are more than a little tempting in all kinds of ways, I'm not slave material." That was an hour ago, and I keep checking my email-which is telling, isn't it? Clearly I don't want this to be over, or I'd consider it done now.
Someone just knocked on my door. It's eleven o'clock at night. Who could possibly be here?
Sunday, February 27, 2011
I could barely believe it when he showed up at my door in response to my email. I just stood there, staring at him, wrapped in a robe and horrified that I had on my ugly fluffy pajamas underneath.
"Invite me in, Ms. Hyuga."
Obediently, I stepped back and let him inside. He shut the door and locked it. Now he just stood there, staring at me, and curiously, I thought I spotted a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. He's not exactly what I would call uncertain. He's not exactly what anyone would call uncertain. That I could make him feel such a thing told me what I needed to know. The outcome of what was between us wasn't simply a contract to him. I didn't realize until then how much I didn't want to be that to him.
"Let's sit," he ordered, no uncertainty left in his voice or his expression.
I wet my lips, his blue eyes following my tongue, and my body responds, my nipples tightened and my sex clenched with the small, sensual act. With all the things that happened afterward, you'd think that would be the last thing that I'd keep replaying in my head. But it was that, along with the instant of uncertainty I'd seen in him, that told me he wanted me as much as I wanted him. These two things set the scene for what was to follow.
"Sit, Hinata," he ordered again, and I was jolted from his spell and walked to the couch. My tiny box of an apartment embarrassed me; it's a shack compared to his gorgeous place. If he noticed, though, which of course he did, he didn't show it. He was looking at nothing but me.
He sat down on the couch, leaving the middle cushion between us free, and I got the impression he felt that I needed that space. He was right. I needed it-but I didn't want it. I wanted to be close to him. I wanted him to touch me. I always do when he's nearby.
"The contract was to be negotiated," he reminded me. "I told you that when I gave it to you."
"Y-yes, I know."
"Yet you simply said no."
"It felt overwhelming."
He considered me for such a long moment, I was about to go nuts. "You want this," he finally said.
"I want you," I surprised myself by admitting. I just couldn't live with the terms required to have him.
"Then you have to trust me with your pleasure."
"The contract asked for far more than my pleasure."
"And why is that bad?"
"You want too much."
"How do you define too much?"
Sharing me. "The unknowns," I said, which was still an honest answer. "I don't even understand what a lot of the things in that contract truly mean."
"And if we can take away the unknowns?"
Before I knew his intent, I was on my back, and his big body was sliding over mine, the scent of him insinuating itself into my nostrils. God, I love how that man smells. I can still smell him in my apartment now as I write this.
"I'll teach you what they mean," he promised.
The idea of him teaching me was/is unbelievably arousing, as was the thick press of his erection against my stomach that assured me he wanted me that night. Still, I have limits. And Dr. Kat had told me to tell him my limits, so I said, "There are things in that contract I'll never agree to."
"Then we take them out."
"What if they're things you want?"
"We'll negotiate. One of the best parts of the contract is openly discussing what we both want. It's about trust. You tell me what's okay. You know I won't cross that line, and you always have your safe word. You're the one in control."
"How am I in control?"
"You set the limits and we stop when you say stop. That's total control, something you don't have in a different type of relationship."
This was news to me. I hadn't thought about this relationship in that way until then.
"You have your safe word," he added. "You say it-I stop whatever I'm doing. You remember what it is?"
"Red," I said, breathless. He's good at making me breathless.
"Good," he approved and his eyes glistened with desire. "I'm going to do something I've not done in a long time. I'm going to set the contract aside for now. We'll go one lesson at a time, and I'll teach you what everything means."
A long time? "Why would you do that?"
"Because I want you as my sub, Hinata, like I haven't wanted another sub in a very long time. Say 'yes' and we'll go one lesson at a time. I'll be the teacher and you'll be the student."
Suddenly I had the hope I wanted, the confirmation that I wasn't just a contract. I didn't hesitate. "Yes."
I felt his instant approval, saw it in the darkening of his cerulean eyes. "Good girl."
He undressed me then, and I let him. Then, he undressed himself. I wasn't shy about watching every delicious inch of skin appear, nor was I shy about my appreciation of his jutting erection as he put on a condom.
When he came back to me, pulling me beneath him again, I was already lost in desire and ready for him. Of course, nothing is fast and simple with this man. I should have known that. "There's a few more rules," he said, and his breath was warm on my neck, his lips by my ear.
"R-rules?" I asked, feeling nervous all over again, some of the haze of desire slipping away.
"You call me 'Master,' so you can get used to it."
This I could do. It was the one thing in the contract I found the least intimidating. "Yes. Okay."
"Say it." He caressed my breast and teased my nipple, as if encouraging me. Like I would deny him his title while he was doing that to me? I'd been easy prey.
"Master," I whispered with surprising comfort.
He slid down and licked my nipple. "Again," he commanded.
"Master," I panted. I've never been a panting person, but this man makes me pant. He makes me do a lot of things that I'd never do for another man.
And since he'd rewarded me for my compliance by suckling and licking my nipples, I was sold on the "Master" title. If it makes him happy, apparently he'll make me happy.
Well, mostly happy. I do keep finding little things that worry me. Like how his mouth had moved to linger above mine but hadn't kissed me. And I realized that he hadn't kissed me many times at all.
"You will call me 'Master' when we're alone," he instructed next. (Still no kiss.) "In public, we remain as we are. What we are beyond that is between us."
My heart sank. My conclusion then, and now, is that he wants to basically own me without claiming me. And how am I to separate the times we meet for work with this?
I'd been back to feeling like there was a contract, but he'd distracted me. His mouth had gone back to my nipple, his tongue swirling and teasing. His cock slid against my slick, swollen body, and I forgot what we were talking about for a few minutes.
Only the talk wasn't over. "Final rule," he said, teasing me with eh promise he was going to enter me to the point I couldn't think. "Until we sign our contract, your safe word is everything. Use it liberally. Use it, and I'll stop whatever I'm doing. Say it now."
"But I don't want you to stop."
He laughed, soft and wicked, the first time I've ever heard him laugh. "I just want to know that you know what it is."
"I do."
"Use it and no matter what we are doing, no matter how intense it is, no matter where we are, I'll end whatever we are doing. You have my word. But you won't need it tonight. I'll guarantee it."
And oh, how true that guarantee had been. My "Master" proceeded to show me a side of himself I wouldn't have believed existed. I hesitate to say that he made love to me, because "love" is a word that scares the hell out of me. And he's not a man to fall in love with. I've been reminding myself of that fact ever since I met him.
So maybe he didn't make love to me, but it didn't feel like fucking, either. There were no floggers. There were no ropes or ties. Just his mouth, his hands, and my pleasure. He didn't ask anything of me, but... he didn't let me touch him, either. It was all about him touching me-not that I can complain. I've never felt like I did last night. Every lick, from my nipples to my clit, was a soft, delicious, seductive stroke that turned me inside out.
But he also left me in the wee hours of the morning, leaving me alone in bed. It had felt bad. Alone has always felt safe, not bad, so I'm not sure what it means that it no longer does.
Maybe it's the nightmares messing with me. Maybe it's my worst fear-that he's going to make me forget how to be alone. Yet didn't he quickly remind me I am alone?
Worse, I've agreed to lessons on how to be submissive, but I have no idea when we will have our meeting. He promised to be in touch. I am totally at his mercy.
He says I have ultimate control. This does not feel like control.
What have I done? This isn't what I want..
Oh Hinata, Hinata Hinata what have you done? Poor thing.
So... I hope you guys know who the Master is now, I left some hints in this chapter ;)
I believe this is the longest chapter I've had here in this story LOL
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please review, favorite and follow, make me happy!
Until next week!