All Chapters of HIS CURVY OBSESSION : ABDSM CONTRACT : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

BANKS POV
The moment I step inside this perfume store, a sweet voice wrapped in fury greets me. She is facing off against a typical, entitled customer.
"Customers are always right!" the man, maybe fifty years old and puffing with self-importance, barks.
"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 lashes out without stopping. Her voice vibrating with a beautiful, raw heat, while the man stands there, paralyzed by the sheer audacity of her.
"If you try that rubbish again, I’ll have you arrested," she adds, jerking a bottle of perfume out of his hand. I stand by the door, watching the scene unfold. Both people oblivious to me. 
"Is this how you tal.." The man puffs his chest, trying to tower over her. She doesn't flinch.
"Talk to rude customers? Yes!" She cuts him off. Moving closer boldly. She looks around five-foot-five, with hands on her hips that strain against the fabric of her g

I just came apart without penetration. Really felt my whole body shake. “𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘮 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘧𝘶𝘹𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶?” My ex-boyfriend says multiple times. I lift and look up at Banks, tears threatening to drop. “Thank…” I try to appreciate but fall back when he pushes three fingers inside me at once. My hands grab the sheets in response. “FFFFUUUCCK!” I lift my body up but my head back falls on the bed as he rolls his fingers in me while his other hand grabs my breast. "Mine to destroy," he says, thrusting fast and brutal. Far different from the earlier one. He continues the painful and pleasurable thrust of three fingers in my pussy while fondling my breast like he wants to milk it dry. “Damn,” his curse is deep and rough. Edged with want and impatience. Letting go of my tit, he pulls my legs onto his shoulders and rolls his fingers inside me, thumb stroking my clitoris. My eyes roll and I dig my nails in

RULES FOR SUB 1- 𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘣𝘰𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 (𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘮𝘦, 𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥) 2- 𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 3- 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺. (𝘕𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘢, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨) 𝘌𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 4- 𝘔𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬, 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 (𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨). 𝘖𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘵, 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦. 4- 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦. 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶're 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘥 5- 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘭, 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵, 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘱

"You can go through the documents" Banks say, standing up and walk into a room. Possibly kitchen. THIS AGREEMENT is entered into between Banks O. Wellington (hereinafter “the Dominant Party”) and Eleanor A. Ashworth (hereinafter “the Submissive Party”) I look at the ceiling briefly to collect myself and continue. The financial terms follows our names. Two million dollars monthly, transferred on the first of each calendar month, with a signing bonus I was not told about that makes me put the document down and pick it up again to confirm the number is real. Thirty thousand dollars to be paid within the hour I sign this. "Fuck!" I grunt, putting the documents down like it burn me before picking it back up. "Is my pussy made of gold? Why on earth is he paying this much just to fuck it?" I mutter within me. Looking at the door he left through. Okay and ass... But still. I'm sure with the right manipulation, another guy could've convinced me to do it for free. My chest heat up and

Banks is leaning against his sofa; relaxed and expecting. I should sign but all I can think of is WHAT LED US HERE? WHY ME? WHAT BROUGHT US TOGETHER? WHAT WENT WRONG... Or is it right? "Sign," he orders like it's a statement and I look at him. I sit back on the chair, the folder right on my lap waiting for me to sign. He knows I read it. “Page ten,” I say. “Yes.” “The termination clause.” “Yes.” “Mr. Banks,” his eyes shoot up and I bite my upper lip, looking at him. “This says the apartment is mine regardless.” “Yes.” “That’s not standard arrangements. You said I can terminate it, what if I do so just to own them. I don’t..” “I’m aware of what standard arrangements include and this is mine,” he says flatly and I look at him. He looks back with a look of finality and no room for explanation. “Okay,” I say, picking my battle as I take another sip. I turn to page twelve. The rules are here again. Formatted, numbered, the italicized text I read an hour ago in his car gl