Rebecca's Lost Journals, Volume 3: His Submissive Read Online Free PDF

no one else could?
    These were my thoughts when “he” returned. The door opened and he entered, and I didn’t care where he’d been or why he’d been gone. I just knew what had to happen. “We need to talk about the contract,” I blurted out.
    He flipped on the light. “Then let’s talk,” he agreed, sauntering forward. He was back to wearing those sexy, low-hung jeans and nothing else. Soon he’d be naked if I didn’t stop him.
    I held up a hand, staying his approach. “Not here. Not in the bed. I want to get dressed and talk about our agreement for what it is: a contract. I want to go down it line by line, item by item.”
    He glanced at the clock. “At 2:00 a.m.?”
    “Yes. Now.”
    Fifteen minutes later, fully dressed in the clothes we’d started this night out in, we sat at the table in a kitchen that was pretty much the size of my apartment. Oddly, his money didn’t intimidate me, even though I’d never had any of my own. His money didn’t attract me, either. He did.
    I broke the silence. “I won’t sleep on the floor or at your feet. I won’t wear a collar. Ever. I know that’s big in the BDSM world, but it’s not me. You won’t collar me.”
    “Fine on the floor and I don’t want you at my feet. I prefer you in my bed, where I can fuck you at will. A collar is simply ownership, but to me it’s more like marriage—I do not collar anyone. What’s next?”
    More confirmation that this is simply a short-term agreement to him. Fine, then, I was going to make sure it was very short-term. “Three months, not six.”
    “Six months.”
    “Three.”
    “Four, but if we decide to renew our agreement after that, I want the contract modified to include things I might want added or taken out.”
    “And things I might want added or taken out,” I countered.
    His lips curved ever so slightly. “Of course.”
    “I don’t know what a cane or caning is, so take it out.”
    “Try it first.”
    “No. No more trying. I need to do this now or not do it at all. That’s what I need you to understand. We have to come up with an agreement I can sign tonight, or there is no agreement.”
    “Signing before you’re ready—”
    “I am ready.”
    He stared at me far too long for my comfort before he said, “I want you, Rebecca, but once I have you, I plan to push you. I can’t do that if I’m afraid you’ll crumble.”
    “You think I can’t handle this. You think I can’t handle you.”
    “I’m not sure you think you can handle this.”
    I pushed to my feet and he stood up as well. “I’m out,” I stated. “You’re right. I can’t do this—but not for the reasons you imply. I like to control my life, and I don’t do well when I can’t.” I laughed without humor. “That sounds ridiculous, when I’m negotiating a contract to be a submissive.”
    “It’s not ridiculous. A choice to hand over control under agreed-upon terms is not only control itself, but the freedom to let go and escape reality when you otherwise wouldn’t.”
    “Then you have to see that lessons and uncertainty are the opposite to me. It’s affecting my job and my sleep. It’s making me crazy.”
    He stepped around the chair and pulled me close. “If you want to sign, we will, but on one condition.”
    “And that would be?” I held my breath, waiting for the answer.
    “One last lesson. The ultimate lesson. When it’s over, if you want to sign, we’ll sign.”
    This was a test. “When?”
    “Tonight. I’ll pick you up at nine.”

Lunchtime . . .
    H e tried to get me to talk about my nightmares but I quickly withdrew and asked to go home. Reluctantly, he agreed. Maybe that was my test for him. I need to know he won’t push me when I don’t want to be pushed, and he seemed to understand this was one of those times. I can’t talk to him about personal things and still make him about pleasure and escape. I’m not big on sharing my personal feelings anyway, and my mother, and the things I learned from