Bounded By Contract, Addicted To My Servant Novels & Stories

As I spoke, I struggled to stand up as I wanted to leave this place. Seeing this, he forcefully grabbed my wrist and dragged me into his embrace. “Ah!” I let out a scream because my bones were almost crushed by his grip. He won’t let go! He sneered with a gloomy expression, saying, “Anya, don’t forget that you have signed a contract to sell yourself. The two-year contract isn’t up yet so don’t think about leaving me. I want you to stay by my side and become my slave!” As he spoke, he bent down and carried me horizontally against my will.

"Nothing." Why does he always put the blame on me? I just shook my head and took a sip of the soup he made. Well, at least it's edible. "You should be thankful that I cooked for you. You're my servant and I'm your master. Being served food is a privilege." "That whole servant and master thing again. Aren't you tired of it?" He glanced back at me. "And what about you?" "What?" "Weren't you originally trying to break the contract? You should have done it when I gave you the chance. Then you wouldn't have to hear about this servant and master nonsense anymore."

“For the next four months, you belong to me. That means you do what I say.” “That’s not what the contract says,” Laura argued, though she wasn’t sure. “The contract says you agree to follow my rules, live in my house, and do what I tell you,” Scott reminded her. “I’m telling you to stop seeing Lily.” “You can’t control who I see,” Laura said, getting angry too. “Actually, I can,” Scott said. “Read the contract, Laura. You signed away your freedom for six months.”

I asked. His jaw worked. “I say you’re an omega servant,” he said finally. “Too small and too weak to make this much trouble by yourself.” The words should have hurt. Maybe they did, somewhere under all the scar tissue. “But trouble follows you,” he went on. “Debt. Contracts. Fainting spells. Now, there are weird stories in the archive.” He shook his head. “You didn't look me in the eye when I spoke to you. You didn’t used to talk back, even sideways. You’ve changed.”

"Now, a guy is gonna slow fuck this pussy for seven minutes straight. Make you feel so good." I froze, my brain short circuiting. "Fatima....no....I.... can't......" "Don't be a prude, cousin." She snapped, pulling on my thong. "You're cunt is so wet. You want it." My heart slammed against my ribs, my cunt leaking under everyone's hot stares. She nodded to the guy beside us, the one who had his hands on my thighs when we first got here. "You're the one that's gonna fuck her."

Even now, I could feel the invisible chain tighten around my throat, reminding me of my place. I was just a toy for him... That should be a reminder to myself. My fists clenched in my lap. There was a part of me that wanted to resist, to hold on to what little dignity I had left. But another part, I knew that I couldn't. I was bound by the contract. That contract could be used against me every single time I resisted. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I slowly stood up, arching my back to avoid getting hit by the ceiling of the carriage as I lowered myself onto his lap.

He kissed me then — slow, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to undo me piece by piece. And maybe he did. Because in that moment, I realized… I don't know if im making up my mind right or should i say if I would just let him show me how it is to be owned. To be claimed. To become a chained possession of a Sebastian Velez. Being caught in this contract is driving me crazy. It's like an addiction poisoning me with toxicity that i am starting to like. Iim in confusion wanting to protest. Should I decide now before I get completely enslaved in this addiction? But my thoughts - arguing: I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop him.

Back at the office, a junior analyst named Mira knocked and pushed a slim folder across my desk. “Elena,” she said. “I found this in contract archives. It looks odd. I thought you should see.” I opened it. The folder contained a contract addendum labeled clause 7.4. It was small and written in legal shorthand. The clause allowed a third-party trustee to authorize interim payments under “expedited supply conditions” without normal procurement approval. I read the clause out loud. “Expedited supply conditions,” I said. “When invoked, trustee may direct funds to suppliers without usual checks.”

Kenneth’s gaze met mine, black, unyielding, feral, and the words he spoke were a command, a tether, a promise: “Do not move. Not now. Not ever. And whatever happens, stay with me.” I nodded, trembling, chest heaving, every fiber of my being screaming both fear and desire, because in that moment, I understood with absolute clarity that I was irrevocably bound to this man, this storm, this violence, and that nothing, not bullets, not men, not fire could sever the connection forged in blood and chaos.

Adrian flanked him, and two guards followed. "Take her. Now." The guards grabbed my arms, and their grips were iron. I struggled against them, but there was little I could do in their strong arms. “Cassian? What do you think you're doing? Let me go. You promised, Cassian!" My voice came out steady, even as my body shook. "You promised to let me go when the contract ended, so why are you doing this now?” He didn't look at me.