Page 29 of Stripping the Sub
She could do this.
A club relationship wasn’t a real relationship, after all. It was strictly confined to the club. There would be set boundaries, an agreed upon contract, and all it really meant was she was going to keep playing with him and only him, and he would keep playing with her and only her. She could handle that. Sure, the level of commitment was unheard of for her, but this was Michael.
This was a step. A small one. Really a tiny one, she told herself, concentrating on taking deep, even breaths, because there was no reason to panic.
“I don’t want you to make this decision while you’re still high off the scene,” he said eventually, his voice soft. “If you still want to sign a club contract with me in a few days, I would be happy to negotiate terms with you.”
“In a few days?”
“Yes,” he said, a slow smile spreading across his face, like a challenge - and also like he was enjoying her discomfort. Sadist, right? “You’ll give me your phone number and I’ll call you to talk about it. I’ll need it anyway if we decide to sign a contract.”
Right. Phone number. Ellie could do that.
She nodded, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against his shoulder so she didn’t have to look at him. Instead, she concentrated on the pleasant aching between her thighs, the way her breasts, pussy, and anus still tingled, the slight throbbing of her breasts from their strapping, and the warmth of Michael’s arms around her in a protective hold. A club contract would mean doing this regularly.
Yeah. She could definitely do that.
Chapter 7
What had she been thinking? She couldn’t do this. Ellie paced around her coffee table, whatever confidence she’d had before being shaken by her doubts. Although the television was on, she hadn’t been able to pay attention to anything she put on.
It was now Wednesday, Michael was calling in an hour, and Ellie was falling apart. Ever since their scene, she’d been flip-flopping back and forth on whether or not she could be in any kind of relationship, even one with contracted boundaries and which only existed in a club. Especially with someone who was going to push her, not just physically, but emotionally.
They’d been talking over text every day since she gave him her number. Not long conversations or anything, but just… checking in. Seeing how she felt the day after the scene, asking if she had any bad after effects from the oils. Texts just saying hi. She’d sent him several pictures of Watson being particularly cute, and instead of being put off by cat photos, Michael had encouraged her to send more. He’d sent her photos of the space where the new club would be going. Told her about his impatience with working through the last two weeks at his current job when all he could think about was what he wanted to be doing with the club.
It felt remarkably like high school again, but with higher stakes. In high school she’d never hoped her crush would be reciprocated. Now, the tables seemed to have turned.
Ellie wasn’t dumb. She knew he liked her. She just wasn’t sure how much of her issues he’d be willing to tolerate.
Hope warred with fear, optimism with anxiety, and she vacillated back and forth on an hourly basis whether or not it was really worth risking getting involved with him, even in this minor way. Not because she thought she would be satisfied with a club relationship, but because she thought she wouldn’t. She was pretty sure she was going to want more.
But she was really scared to want more.
Her phone buzzed, making her jump. Text message. She glanced at the clock. Shouldn’t be Michael. Unless he was texting to say he wasn’t going to be able to call.
Ceasing her pacing, she picked up her phone from the coffee table. Text from Angel.
Can you come help out with the class tonight? I need someone to walk around and help critique. Baby is giving me issues.
Wednesday nights at Stronghold, Angel held self-defense classes for the submissives, something which Ellie had already participated in. This wasn’t the first time Angel had needed an extra hand, although last time it had been because her morning sickness hadn’t exactly been confined to the morning.
Yeah, definitely. I’ll be there at 7.
Class wasn’t till 7:30 pm, but Angel was always there half an hour beforehand, so Ellie would be too. Plus it would mean some girl time tonight. Which would be good. Whether she said yes or no to Michael, she would definitely not mind some girl talk.
Although… would Angel be mad if she knew Ellie said no?
Ellie didn’t even know if Michael had told anyone she’d been the one to bring up having a club relationship. Maybe no one knew. Maybe if she said no when he called, no one would have to know.
Except she kind of wanted to talk about it with someone.
“Meow.”
Watson’s warm, furry body wound around her ankles.
“I didn’t mean you,” she muttered, bending down to pick him up. Silly animal. “Talking to you isn’t super helpful.”
Purring, he rubbed his cheek against hers, his paws kneading the collar of her shirt with happiness at being held. It was a good thing he was a one-animal-in-the-house kind of pet, or she’d probably be a crazy old cat lady by now.
