The Submissive Contract Demand

Lola stared at him, her eyes wide with total shock. Her chest heaved, her nipples tight and sensitive against the cool air of the office. The sheer denial throbbed through her lower body like a fever, making her clit ache with an unfulfilled pulse.

"Put on your clothes, Miss Lola, while I explain further." Victor leaned back in his leather chair, crossing one long leg over the other. His tone was as cold as ice, completely unbothered by the fact that she was dripping wet on the edge of his mahogany desk.

Lola swallowed the dry lump in her throat. A toxic mixture of burning lust and humiliation flooded her veins. She slid off the desk, her bare feet hitting the soft carpet. Her legs wobbled slightly from the lingering heat between her thighs. She knelt down and gathered her discarded clothes from the floor, her cheeks burning.

Behind his desk, Victor watched every line of her body. His eyes tracked the smooth dip of her waist and the round curve of her ass as she bent over. Beneath his stoic, professional mask, a raw, filthy urge pounded in his skull. He pictured himself kicking his chair back, grabbing her by her hips, and slamming his thick cock deep into her pussy right on the floor. He wanted to pin her down, spread her wide, and fuck her until she cried his name. But he kept his hands resting casually on the armrests, breathing evenly. He knew how to play the long game. A little discipline right now meant she would belong to him entirely in just a matter of time.

Lola stepped into her panties, the damp friction against her slit sending an agonizing spike of pleasure straight to her gut. She pulled the lace bra around her chest, trying to hook the small clasps behind her back. Her hands shook so much from the adrenaline and sexual denial that the metal hooks kept slipping out of her fingers. She gritted her teeth in frustration.

Finally, she gave up. She turned her back toward him, her head tilted down.

"If you don't mind?" Her words dripped with bitter, venomous resentment. She hated asking him for anything, especially after he had brought her right to the edge of an orgasm and left her hanging.

Victor stood up. His towering frame rose from behind the desk, casting a long shadow over her smaller figure. He stepped forward until his broad chest was inches from her bare shoulder blades. He did not say a word. He raised his hands and easily slid the tiny metal clasps into place. His knuckles brushed against the sensitive skin of her spine, a fleeting, warm contact that made her core clench and leak another drop of slick arousal.

Before she could even breathe, he stepped away, returning smoothly to his leather chair.

Lola quickly slipped her dress over her head, smoothing the fabric down over her hips. She sat in the leather armchair opposite him, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Her heart was hammering against her ribs.

"So, as I was saying," Victor began, his voice smooth and measured. "I can't touch you if you can't sign the ten days contract."

"And what's the contract all about?" Lola demanded, her chin raised in defiance.

"Submissive."

Lola blinked, her eyebrows knitting together. "Excuse me?"

"You will have to sign a legal contract agreeing to be my submissive for ten days," Victor said, his eyes locking onto hers with unwavering intensity. "During those ten days, you will do whatever I tell you to do. Your body will be mine to train. That is the only way I can break this hyper-sensitivity and cure your uncontrollable urges."

A hot flare of pride surged through Lola's chest, momentarily overpowering the physical ache between her legs. "And what if I don't want to be cured?"

Victor scoffed softly, shaking his head at her empty bravado. He reached into the inner pocket of his dark suit jacket and pulled out a sleek, matte black business card. He placed it squarely on the desk and slid it toward her with a flick of his manicured finger.

"It is your decision to make, Lola. That is why I am giving you three days to think about it while I prepare the legal documents. Like I said, I will not lay another finger on your body until your signature is on that paper."

Lola grabbed her pink purse from the floor and stood up abruptly. Her knees felt steady now, powered by sheer fury.

"Well, thank you, but I'm not interested in your sick little games." She turned on her heel and marched toward the heavy wooden door, desperate to put as much distance between them as possible.

"Three days, Lola," his voice drifted after her, low, calm, and unmistakably dangerous. "I am counting from today, which means you have very little time left before I permanently cancel your file. Three days."

The sound of her name rolling off his tongue made the heat between her legs flare up again. Lola stopped just inches from the brass door handle. She gritted her teeth so hard her jaw ached. Whirling around, she stomped back to the desk, snatched the black card off the polished surface, and shoved it into her bag.

"I'll think about it," she spat through clenched teeth.

She turned around and slammed the office door behind her, the heavy latch clicking shut with finality.

Behind the desk, Victor leaned back into his leather chair. A slow, triumphant smirk spread across his lips. He steepled his long fingers under his chin, listening to the fading echo of her hurried footsteps in the hallway.

"Miss Lola," he murmured into the quiet room, his dark eyes glittering with total confidence.

Lola stormed down the private corridor toward the elevators, her heels clicking loudly against the marble floor. She jammed the down button with her thumb, pacing back and forth in front of the mirrored doors.

"Sign a contract. Be my submissive. Bla, bla, bla," she mocked under her breath, mimicking his deep, clinical voice. "Arrogant, heartless bastard."

The elevator doors chimed and slid open. She stepped inside, leaning against the back railing as the car descended. Down between her thighs, her pussy pulsed with an agonizing, heavy wetness. Every step she took rubbed the soaked cotton of her panties against her swollen labia, sending unwanted sparks of electricity straight through her abdomen. She needed relief. She needed to get home and get off before her brain melted from the sheer frustration.

When the elevator reached the lobby, Lola burst through the sliding glass doors into the afternoon sun. She hurried to the curb and waved down an approaching yellow cab.

She threw open the back door and slid onto the worn vinyl seat. "Crimson Lofts, unit 103," she told the driver, her breathing shallow.

The driver nodded and pulled out into the busy city traffic. Lola rested her head against the cool window pane, shifting uncomfortably on the seat. Her swollen clit throbbed against the seam of her underwear. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands, desperate for a distraction. She pulled out her phone to call Raven, but shoved it back into her purse. A phone call would not fix the fire burning in her belly.

"Could you be faster, please? Just step on it," she snapped at the driver, unable to keep the desperation out of her voice.

Ten agonizing minutes later, the cab pulled up in front of the modern brick facade of Crimson Lofts. Lola threw a wad of cash onto the center console without waiting for change, shoved the door open, and hurried into the building.

She took the stairs two at a time, her thighs brushing together in a painful reminder of what Victor had started and refused to finish. Reaching her apartment, she swiped her keycard against the electronic lock. The green light blinked, and the latch unlocked.

She pushed the door open, kicked off her brown ankle boots, and slammed the door shut behind her.

"I'm home, Raven," she announced, her voice flat and breathless.

Her best friend, Raven, was sprawled out comfortably across the king-sized mattress, wearing an oversized graphic tee and scrolling through her phone. At the sound of Lola's voice, Raven kicked her bare feet up and propped herself up on her elbows, a knowing, mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"How was it?" Raven asked eagerly.

Lola walked over to the bed, tossed her pink purse onto the floor, and collapsed face-up onto the mattress. A loud, miserable groan ripped from her throat as she stared at the white ceiling.

"Exhausting," Lola confessed.

Raven shifted on the mattress, crawling over until she was sitting beside Lola's waist. She looked down at Lola's flushed cheeks and wild, untamed hair. "How do you feel right now?"

"Horny," Lola answered instantly, completely honest. "I'm so fucking horny it hurts."

Raven's eyes sparkled with wicked amusement. "Did something happen between you two? Did he touch you?"

"Seriously, I regret ever walking into that clinic," Lola vented, throwing her hands over her face in pure frustration. "That motherfucker turned me on, got me naked on his desk, and then pushed away right when I was about to lose my mind. He left me halfway, saying he won't fucking touch me again unless I sign a ten-day contract with him."

Raven gasped loudly, her jaw literally dropping open. "A ten-day contract?!"

Lola lowered her hands from her face and propped herself up on one elbow, glaring at her best friend's dramatic reaction. "Yeah. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Lola, do you have any idea what that means?" Raven's voice climbed an octave. "Do you know what it actually means to have a private, dedicated contract with the most famous sex doctor in the country? People wait years just to get a consultation, and he offered you an exclusive contract!"

"I don't care," Lola muttered, falling back against the pillows.

"Please tell me you accepted his offer," Raven leaned over her, her eyes wide with desperate anticipation.

Lola rolled her eyes dramatically. "I didn't."

"What?!" Raven whisper-yelled, slapping the mattress in utter disbelief. "Are you out of your fucking mind?!"

"No, I'm not crazy," Lola snapped defensively. "He wants me to sign a contract to be his submissive! He told me I have to obey his every command for ten days just to cure this fucking condition! And to make it worse, he gave me a countdown. He said I only have three days to decide before he cancels my file."

"And?" Raven urged, her gaze piercing.

"And I'm never going back there," Lola stated firmly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't care how good his hands are. I'm not letting some arrogant doctor treat me like a pet."

"You have to go back," Raven insisted, her tone leaving no room for debate. "Lola, you can barely function. You haven't slept properly in months because your pussy won't stop leaking every time someone breathes on you. This man can actually fix you."

"Raven, please, just drop it. I said no."

Raven looked down at Lola's tense body. She noticed the flushed skin on Lola's neck, the heavy rise and fall of her chest, and the way her thighs were clamped tightly together in a futile attempt to soothe the ache between them. A devious, knowing smile crept onto Raven's lips. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a low, husky whisper that buzzed right in Lola's ear.

"How about I finger fuck your pussy?"

The filthy offer hung in the air like a spark over dry wood. Lola's eyes instantly widened, a sharp gasp catching in her throat. The throbbing between her legs redoubled, her hyper-sensitive clit screaming for any kind of direct friction. She looked at Raven, her lips parting as her breath turned ragged.

"Really?" Lola asked, her voice trembling with raw, desperate hope.

Raven smirked, tapping Lola's nose playfully before pulling back just an inch. "Accept my condition first. Tomorrow morning, you are getting dressed, you are going back to that clinic, and you are meeting the sex doctor."

Lola opened her mouth to argue, but the intense, unfulfilled pulse in her lower belly flared violently, reminding her of just how close she was to the edge.

"And make sure you accept his offer," Raven added, locking her dark eyes onto Lola's. "Sign the paper. Let him do whatever he needs to do. Deal?"

Lola looked at Raven's slender hands resting on the bed sheets. The thought of waiting any longer for physical release felt like pure torture. Her mind surrendered to the sheer demand of her body.

"Fine," Lola breathed out, defeated by her own lust. "Fine, I'll do it."

"Pinky promise," Raven demanded, extending her small finger toward Lola's face with a wicked, teasing grin. "No backing out. If I give you what you want right now, you belong to the doctor tomorrow."

Lola hooked her pinky finger around Raven's, pulling it tight. "It's a promise."

Raven chuckled, her eyes darkening with predatory excitement as she broke the contact and stood up on the edge of the mattress. She reached down, took a handful of Lola's dress, and tugged it upward.

"Okay," Raven ordered, her voice dropping into a commanding tone. "Take off your dress."