HIS CURVY OBSESSION : ABDSM CONTRACT

"Take it off."

I say, taking a step closer to her and she blinks, heart rate quickening through the fabric of her clothes that clings to her body like it's meant for a man of status.

A man like me.

There is no doubt in my mind she’ll obey. Obedience is a currency I value, and right now, I'm about to overpay. But, if she hesitates, I'll finally see something about her that I dislike.

"Sir?"

Just like every woman facing me, she's struggling for air. Eyes searching for breath that I robbed her of. I watch her hand lift unsteadily toward the surgical mask and suppress a smile.

She's affected by me, like everyone else.

With a quick defiant roll of her eyes, she pulls it down. Her lips parting slightly like it's waiting for my fingers or cock.

"How may I help you, sir?" My mouth falls open. I thought her voice was the best thing I’d ever heard when I was standing by the door earlier. It was firm, melodic, yet sharp enough to cut.

But now, seeing her? It’s everything and it makes me want her even more.

She combs her hair with her fingers and take a step back, looking everywhere but at me.

"What do you want,sir" She repeats

I move closer to her, inhaling her sweet scent, feeling the heat of her body and craving to touch every inch of flesh that graced her body.

"You" I reply and she stumbles back with a loud, difficult gulp.

I want her. That need was primal the moment I heard then saw her. She was a riot of purple dress with black hosiery and defiance.

"I... Excuse.." I wrap my hand around her waist and pull her closer. Feeling the richness of every bit of her body. She wiggles against me, which only presses her body closer against me.

Her curves strain against her dress like they were begging for my hands to ruin them.

"I want to buy every minute of your time until you forget how to say anything but my name" That's what I want to say, but don't .

Her eyes fly up to me, same time red covers her cheeks and neck.

"Sir.. This isn't.." I close my eyes and breath in.

Was it her scent? Her rage? The way she stood? Her height? Curves? A dozen details about her stun me at once. She is the exact brand of chaos I'm starved for. And the heat of my hand on her waist makes my quite selective cock,lift up.

Just minutes ago, the moment I stepped inside here, her fury greeted me. She was facing off against a man I assumed was a typical, entitled customer.

"Customers are always right!" the man, maybe fifty years old and puffing with self-importance, had barked.

"That's a getaway mantra for retards with no one at home to respect them, so you find your way to retail stores to bugger innocent, tired staff." She lashed out without stopping. Her voice vibrating with a beautiful,raw heat, while the man stood there, paralyzed by the sheer audacity of her

She looks around five-foot-five. Beneath the folds of that purple silk is flesh that begs to be grabbed, whipped, and squeezed until she forgets every word in her vocabulary except Master.

"If you try that rubbish again, I’ll have you arrested," she added, jerking a bottle of perfume out of his hand.

The man puffed his chest, trying to tower over her. She didn't flinch. She moved closer, hands on her hips that strain against the fabric of her gown with her chin tilted up and her shoulders arched.

Her chest- full, heavy breasts moved with every jagged breath she took. Pressed dangerously close to his space.

I clenched my teeth. I wanted to be that man. I wanted that rage directed at me, just so I could be the one to break it.

"I’ll repo.."

"Report me to my manager?" she had cut him off.

"Go ahead. I dare you. Because I’ll not only report you to the officers- I’ll take the security clips of your misbehavior, hunt you down, and play them for your boss. Then I’ll send them to your kids' school and your neighbors."

She ranted on. Bold, thick and fierce. The type I never knew I wanted and my beast hungry for more.

The man moved back, finally intimidated and it makes me smile.

Few are the people that can handle heat like hers... I'm pleased to consider myself one of them.

No. I'll become the only one that welcome, take and control her heat.

"Every day you come here and stress the joy out of me. Out of everyone."

The man finally broke, threw a shopping bag at her, and stormed out. Stopping right in front of me.

I tilt my head at him, then back at my firecracker who's picking up the bag.

"Mr.. Siiir"

"Go" I dismiss him and he exhale with a dash outside

"How dare..." She started to race after him, but stopped dead when she noticed me by the door. Perfume bottle raised up in her hand.

Our eyes met and she stumbled back with surprise.

I closed my eyes and inhaled. The air around her was the sweetest fragrance I’ve ever smelt: Sweet and spicy. I don't care what happened with that man. I assume he earned that rage. Or maybe she’s just as rude as she looks. First impressions and all that

She had stepped back with eyes widened that are a striking honey-colored. She blinked twice, trying to regain her composure, straightened her dress and gave me a quick, ninety-degree bow.

"I’m very sorry you witnessed that, sir," she said. Her first words to me.

"Our service is usually top notch"

"Take off your mask," I requested.

"What?" She questioned, a dark eyebrow arching.

"Take it off" A single order had always been my way of life. It's redundant to repeat yourself. It's also my test. Apart from bedroom, submission isn't a worry. But obedience without questioning is important to me.

NOW, with the mask gone, I’m face-to-face with an oval face and cheeks that look soft enough to bruise. Her lips are full, glossy, and currently bringing images of them on my mouth.

"You’re pretty," I observe and her eyes widen further. Her breasts rise, with a gentle graze on my chest, I gulp.

The atmosphere in the shop's entrance shifts. The air grows thick and heavy with the weight of my undivided attention.

Against my desire, I let go of her waist

"Why are you wearing a mask?"

Every woman around me flaunts her beauty.

"I don't like the shop's air freshener, but my supervisor insists on it," She replies, her voice regaining softness.

I nod and step away from the door. Her head stops just below my shoulder as she scurries past me toward the counter.

"I need a perfume," I say and she comes back out with a tight-lipped, professional smile.

"That’s great, sir." She leads me toward the expensive section. I don’t mind. I’m used to being steered toward the top shelf; I have the money, and they need the commission. Besides, price usually dictates quality.

"Who is it for?" She asks, standing directly in front of me. My body nudging me to hold her waist again. Is it this hard to resist touching someone?

Wait? Why am I resisting? I take.

Actually, the question is why do I want her?

"A male friend. It's his birthday."

With a nod at my reply,she turns her back at me, to reach for a bottle of Clive Christian. Her movements bring her dangerously close to me. As she stretches up, her short dress rides up, revealing a glimpse of her ass cheeks hidden beneath her hosiery.

Images of those curves pressed against my face flashes through my mind, raw and unbidden.

I press closer, not quite touching, as I reach up to help her grab the bottle. I inhale her scent involuntarily, and a wild current seeps through me.

Her ass is less than a finger stretch from my crotch.

"Thank yo..." She says, turning to face me, but the movement is too fast.

Her mouth connects squarely with my chest and I grab her waist finally, again. To steady her.

My body responds instantly: Throat thicken, pulse race and my stomach is being throttled. My beast fighting to come out.

Now, this is interesting. We've never been this hungry for anyone. My beast is truly selective.

"I... OMG!" She recoils, looking up at me in horror- someone have heard of me. Then she looks down at the pink lipstick stain she’s left on my grey polo.

"I’m so sorry, sir!" She plead, wiping the stain with the heel of her palm, her hip wiggling against my waist. Each rub of her hand on my chest, makes her flesh press against my groin and her hand graze my nipple through the fabric. Well, fuck.

"Please come off..." She groan softly, making my dick fatten even more. I’m already imagining her saying please in a very different context.

"Please forgive me... I..."

I grab her wrist, stopping the frantic rubbing as I've grown unreasonably hard. It's a surprise she didn't notice.

"Stop" Our eyes lock at my order. Everything about her: her voice, her rage, her scent, her body... begs me to take her.

"What’s your name?" She gulps, her lips clamping together.

"Eleanor." I let go of her hand and reach up, using my thumb to wipe the smudge of lipstick from her bottom lip. Hot breathe leaves her, onto my thumb and she gasps, shifting back. I let her.

The heat buzzing through my body is questioning. Even for me

"I’m sorry, sir," she repeats.

I nod and walk toward the desk, swallowing the urge to tell her exactly what I want her to tell me.

She walks faster, heading to the terminal to ring up my bag.

The shop is small and empty. She’s the only one here: salesgirl and cashier. Money will get me what I want. It always does anyways.

"What time do you close, Anor?"

She lifts her head, biting her lower lip.

"Three p.m." I nod, looking down as she rings up the perfume. I watch her work- the images of how perfect she’ll look under me, spread out for me flashes through my mind.

I see the faint red flush. She’s affected. She’s terrified. She’s wanting.

"Here you go, sir."

I collect the bag, my fingers lingering against hers. The electricity is enough to light up the block.

Her pulse jumping in her neck; a faint red flush creeps up her skin.

My getaway.

"My driver will pick you up," I finally decide, and turn to head out before the beast biting inside me jump at her.

"I... I’ll be too sweaty," her voice stops me. I turn back.

"Moreover... if I’m not being delusional" she licks her lips and motion both hands down her body.

"I’m not properly dressed for a date."

I walk back toward her and reach out, placing my palm against her face. I watch her neck tighten. Her breathe seizes, her chest heaves, and almost unconsciously, she leans into my touch.

I lean over the counter, my face inches from hers and I take her mouth for mine.

It isn't a kiss; it’s a claiming .

A short, electrifying taste of her lower lip that sends my blood into a frantic race. I take a slow, agonizing drag of her bottom lip between my teeth and then let go.

She stumbles back, clutching her mouth. Her honey eyes darting everywhere but at me.

"That... I’ve never... Why... I’m sorry," Even her stammering makes me smile.

"You won't need your dress for this date."

I leave the shop feeling her gaze on me, and my length straining against my slacks. A heavy reminder of what I'm about to claim. Soon.

It’s been four months since I’ve had sex. That’s a decision that’s about to be rectified.