I squeezed my eyes shut and scrunched my shoulders at the slam the door to my apartment makes. Hopefully, it wouldn't bother the neighbors, it was an accident. I dropped my purse and the bag of food onto the floor, so I could get out of these heels. 

Once that was done, I grabbed the food and purse and put them on the little dinette table. The envelope poked out of my purse, causing my mouth to purse in thought. Grabbing it, the paper rustled as I stripped my way to the bedroom. What I required was an orgasm or three. Or five. No, that's wrong. What I really needed – okay wanted – was to be fucked until I couldn't see straight. 

After tossing my skirt and top into the hamper, I hung my bra on the doorknob. The envelope mocked me as I stared at it, vivid white against my tanned flesh. Opening it with care, I pulled the freshly printed pages out, the smell of ink wafting off the sheets. 

Eyes boggling over the number of pages, thoughts ran through my mind. There was no way he printed all this while I was bent over mewling for his attention. He had to have a master file on his machine to edit when the need arose. I flipped through, glancing here and there, and realized the contract was only the first two pages. The rest was a list of kinks – some I'd have to research to figure out what exactly they were. 

"Jesus, Mack. You're one kinky fucker, that's for sure." I had no idea where to start. Flipping back to the first two pages, I read over them, paying better attention this time. One line popped off the page and slapped me good. 

The submissive will not masturbate to completion without permission. 

I stared at the paper to my toy drawer and back again. Would he know if I masturbated with my toy and gave myself the orgasms he denied? Would he punish me if he did? How? 

Grumbling under my breath, I set the paper down on my vanity. "I haven't signed them. I haven't even really read them. Would it count?" Need pulsed through me and an echo of being bound made me rub my wrists. An itch led me to scratch the underside of my boob, which led me to squeezing them in my hands, and then I was pinching my nipples. All the things I wanted Mack to do to me poured through my mind in a jumbled mess. 

"Loophole. If I don't sign, it isn't breaking the rules." In a flash, I was at my toy drawer, pulling out my favorite toy. It was powerful and purple and hit all the right nerves. Spreading out onto my bed, I pressed the head of the toy to myself and hit the button. 

When nothing happened, disappointment flared. I tried pressing the power button again. "Dammit. Dead batteries?" I forgot to grab them on my last trip to the store. I still hadn’t worked up the urge to purchase something with a power cord. 

Determined, I headed to the bathroom and my pulsing shower head. I would get off tonight, at least one strong orgasm would lessen my need to be fucked until I couldn't remember what name to scream. The water pulsed and I waited for it to heat up. Climbing under the spray, taking time to caress my slick skin, I couldn't help but play with my nipples and breasts again. 

Dragging my nails down my abdomen, I slipped them between my legs. Sticky warmth covered my fingers as I pulled the shower head down with my other hand. In a few breaths, I was crying out Mack's name as the spurting water coursed over me. I crawled into bed after I finished washing, Mack's name on my mind and the zen of several orgasms lulling me to sleep.