The Arrangement

"We'll start slowly. I don't want to scare you."

"Alright," I answered, trying to mask my nervousness. "What should I do first?"

"Take off your clothes."

I bit the corner of my lip, and forced myself to smile. Sex wasn't entirely new to me. I'd done it with two guys before. But usually, it was a little less...formal. Plus, it was usually dark. At least darker, but now every light in the hotel room was shining. I felt sort of like I was on stage.

We'd come upstairs right after dinner, right after we finished The Talk. He hadn't kissed me or tried to touch me at all, and that had sort of taken me off guard. I don't know exactly what I expected. Mood lighting, maybe some corny lines or something. Definitely compliments. I mean, that's what I'd gotten with each of the other two guys I'd been with. But The Senator was different.

Walking through the restaurant, he'd placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me like you see men do in the movies. That had never happened to me before. It felt kind of romantic, and it made it seem, I don't know, like I didn't have to think for myself. Like I was totally in his hands. It was cool, but a little odd. When we got to the door he unlocked it and ushered me inside. I love words, obviously, but sometimes it takes an epiphany to really understand them. Until The Senator guided me into and toured me around his suite, I never totally grasped the meaning of the word "ushered."

As we made our way through the rooms, him flicking on every light we passed, he kept up kind of a running commentary about the history of the hotel, and this suite in particular. Not exactly the kind of conversation I'd envisioned after our dinnertime agreement. But what did I know. I'm only 18, after all, and one boyfriend my sophomore and junior year, and one small indiscretion after my senior Christmas dance did not a woman of the world made. I'd seen enough episodes of Sex and the City, though, to make me think that the course of events weren't following the normal pattern.

When we reached the bedroom, he stepped away from me and sat in one of the big armchairs, and proceeded to tell me he didn't want to scare me. I wasn't. Scared, that is. I was excited. Nervous. A little turned on, oddly enough. I didn't expect that. It could have been the dinner, or maybe The Senator himself. He's older, of course, but actually very handsome. A big guy, a couple inches over six feet with wide hands and manicured nails. His hair is gray and neatly trimmed. Looking at him always makes me think of Sean Connery without the beard.

His voice was formal, very matter of fact. Actually, he kind of sounded like my gynecologist. Since I sure as heck didn't know what to do, I decided to mimic his mannerism. I unbuttoned my top, which on the hanger looked ultra-conservative and boring but once on me, was low cut and tight enough across the boobs that my dad would have had heart failure if he'd seen it. I turned, folded the shirt neatly, and set it on the edge of the bed. Next came my skirt, an awesome black leather mini that I'd saved three months of baby-sitting money to buy last Fall. It, too, I folded and set aside.

I turned around. I was standing now in high heeled, strappy black sandals, lacy white panties, and a white lace bra. I wasn't anywhere near a mirror, but I knew I was looking really, really good. "Would you like me to take off the rest," I asked calmly.

The Senator smiled his approval. Obviously mimicking his demeanor had been the right way to go. I was relieved. Instead of answering me, he asked, "How large are your breasts?"

"36C."

"Good. You know, statistically speaking that's probably the perfect size. Especially for your frame. You're very slender. Do you participate in athletics?"

"I've run track and cross country all four years, but that's it." I thought a minute. "I've always thought playing tennis would be fun."

"Excellent," he said. "Tennis lessons can certainly be arranged. Now, take your bra off, please."

I reached behind myself and unclasped the closure, letting my straps fall down my arms. Coyly, I held the cups in front of my breasts and smiled, thinking he might like a bit of a striptease.

The Senator held up one hand. "Amanda, I promise that as our relationship develops, I'll enjoy arousal games we might play. But for now, think of your self as an asset I've recently acquired. And, like any asset, I need to take an inventory. So please, just do as I say."

"Of course," I answered simply, instinctively knowing that a flowery apology would only irritate him. I quickly took off my bra and set it aside on top of my shirt on the bed.

"Step closer."

I walked close to him standing between his legs but not touching him. He reached up and cupped my breasts, his hands were large and warm. "Very pert," he said approvingly. "Definitely one of the benefits of your age." He ran his thumbs over my nipples. The room was chilly, and they had been slightly pebbled, but they tightened at his touch. He looked amused.

"You find this arousing, don't you?" He asked.

I felt like a huge dork, and looked away without answering. It sounded stupid, but, yeah, I did.

"Amanda," he chided. "Please answer me. And please be honest. If you do, I want to know, but if you don't, I want to know that, too."

I cleared my throat and found that I was totally unable to match his clinical tone. "Well, I don't really know why, but I do. Find this arousing, that is." I was nervous, and when I'm nervous, I get diarrhea of the mouth. "I didn't think I would, actually. Not that you're not great, but you know. It's just strange, and really sudden."

"You said you'd enjoyed sexual encounters you've had in the past," he reminded me.

"Yes, but it just doesn't seem like I should enjoy this. It should be, you know, a means to an end."

"You're a very unique young woman, Amanda. You've been working in some way for my organization as your volunteer project with the children's home since your parents were sent away and you were sent there. You've set goals for yourself, and I can help you achieve those goals. I've been watching you for several years. I can't imagine that comes as any sort of surprise to you. Taking control of your future is a heady thing. It's quite natural that you would be excited. Besides, working in my campaign, I'm sure you've heard your share of rumors. I'm a very skilled lover, Amanda, and if you did enjoy sexual things you've done in the past, then I'm sure that you're entering into this relationship with erotic expectations of your own."

He put his hands on my hips and pulled me toward him. My breasts were at the exact level of his face. Slowly, he pulled one of my nipples and then the other into his mouth and sucked lightly, then pulled away. "I'm going to stimulate your nipples for a few minutes. As I do it, I want you to tell me how it feels. What you like, what you don't like. Any ideas or questions you may have. Things like that."

He started by reaching up with both hands and taking my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. At first he caressed them gently, occasionally cupping my breasts with the heels of his hands. They were slick with his saliva, and his fingers played with them skillfully. I'd always loved the under the shirt petting, but this was eons better than that. I heard myself moan softly.

"You like that, don't you?" He asked me.

"Yes," I said shakily, leaning into him slightly.

Using his grip on my breasts, he pushed me away. "Ah, ah, ah, Amanda." My name as a caress of breath. I felt my eyes drift closed, and I was embarrassed for a moment to realize first that I was getting wet, and second that he could probably smell it. Slowly, his fingers changed, they began to pinch, lightly first, then harder. "Tell me how it feels," he reminded me, his voice firm.

"I like it. I—it hurts, but it's nice, too."

"Good, good." He suddenly twisted my nipples viciously. "And this?"

"Ouch!" I yelped. But even though it hurt, it was still somehow exciting. I told him so.

"I think that's far enough for now," he said. "I have to tell you, Amanda, I'm very, very pleased with my new property so far. Now, please step away and take off your panties and your shoes."

I was feeling frustrated at this point, and a little confused. I didn't understand how he could just...stop like that. Hearing myself referred to as property made my stomach tighten oddly. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but of course I didn't contradict him. I had agreed to give up the right to contradict, to say no at all, really.

"Now, lay on the center of the bed," he ordered.

I went to the bed, an extra-large king, and lay down on my back, again feeling silly but not saying anything.

"Pull your knees up, and spread your arms."

As I did, I heard him get up and felt a weight on the bed near me. His hands closed over my ankles, and ran up my legs, stopping at my knees. For an instant, I remembered seeing buyers do almost exactly the same things with horses at the state fair auction, but I pushed the thought out of my mind. Holding my kneecaps, he firmly pulled my legs apart. I felt my pussy lips open, and cool air against me.

"Beautiful," he said.

I felt a rush of pride at the compliment.

"Leave your legs exactly like this," he ordered sternly. I tried not to be embarrassed. In the bright room, I knew he could see absolutely everything. Skimming his fingers down the inside of my thigh, he ran them over the mound of my pussy. It was bare. I had shaved for the occasion.

"I'm glad to see you shave, but you've got a little razor burn. I want you to let your bush grow back in. I'll arrange a waxier for you. She'll help you determine the optimal schedule, but I think you'll find that preferable to constantly shaving. And I can't stand stubble." He paused. "Actually, what would you think of laser hair removal? We could have your legs, pussy, under arms, really whatever you want done."

"Whatever you prefer," I answered.

He actually clapped his hands. "Perfect answer Amanda! I'm so glad we understand one another so well. I know this is going to be a wonderful relationship."

I don't know why, but I was getting so turned on. I could feel my pussy open and dripping on to the bed. Obviously, my condition was pretty apparent to The Senator, too. He went back to his inspection. A little roughly, he spread my legs wider and pulled my pussy lips open. Using his eyes and his fingers, he examined my clit, pulled apart my inner labia and looked at my urethra. Then he slid a finger inside my pussy. It felt so good, I moaned again and started to press my legs closed.

Moving like lightning, he reached up and slapped me hard across the face. "DO NOT close your legs!" His voice was furious, steely. My cheek stung, and I felt shocked. As I forced my legs to open again, and I heard in my mind his words at dinner.

"I know what you want, Amanda. You want your parents out of jail, and you want enough money and power to make sure you never lose them again.. I can give you both of those things, but in tern you'll have to give me something. I want your body. Total control of every part of your life until I'm finished with you. We'll be very close, Amanda, closer than you can imagine. I will know every single inch of you. I'll do things to you that right now, you can't even conceive you'd ever let be done. I'll use you. I'll abuse you. Sometimes I'll treasure you. Sometimes I'll lend you out, and sometimes I'll keep you tucked away for days at a time. It doesn't matter, because whatever I want is what you'll give me. And when I'm finished with you, I swear you'll be in a position to become the most powerful woman in this country. You can back out now if you want to—last time offered. Do we have an agreement?"

Remembering his words, I forced myself not to react to the slap. "I'm sorry Senator, I wasn't thinking."

Mollified, he returned his hands to my open vagina. "I think I can forgive you, Amanda." And with that, I felt his finger slide back into me. I was still wet. Skillfully, he began to stoke me. "Would you like to come, darling?"

"Yes," I whispered eagerly. God he was good. His rhythm was amazing. He was pressing so deeply into me. A second finger joined the first. I don't know how I managed it, but I forced my legs to stay wide open as he masturbated me. "I—it will take me awhile unless you play with my clit, too."

"It's alright, Amanda, I have plenty of time. Just relax and enjoy it. I don't care if it takes you all night long."

I had never been so wet it my life. When I masturbated at home it didn't even feel this good, and nothing in my sex life to that point had prepared me for it. Something in his tone, in the way he told me to take my time, flicked some sort of switch in my mind. Suddenly, I barely even felt like I was in my body anymore. I just gave myself up to the sensations. There was no pressure, no sense of time.

I came like I never had before, in a flood all over his hand. When I finally got my bearings again, he was still sitting beside me smiling. "Better?" He asked.

"Oh my God," I panted. "I didn't know it could feel like that."

"Excellent. Now, turn over please."

In spite of the post-orgasmic lethargy I felt creeping over me, I did so immediately. He inspected my back, my arms, my neck, thighs, legs, feet. When he reached my ass cheeks, I felt like I'd melted into a puddle.

"Have you ever engaged in any anal play?" He asked me.

I closed my eyes. This was the part I was dreading most. "No, I said softly," then remembering what he said about wanting to know my feelings, I continued, "I'm nervous about it."

"There's nothing to be nervous about at all, darling. We'll take our exploration of that area very slowly. Do you trust me not to hurt you?"

I thought about that for a moment, and decided to go with honesty. "No. I think you are going to hurt me sometimes. That you like to hurt women. But I trust that if you tell me you aren't going to hurt me, you won't."

"You're very astute, Amanda."

He slowly pulled apart my ass cheeks. I felt open in a way I never had before. "Is it gross?" I asked tentatively.

He laughed. "Not at all silly girl. Really, it's just skin. You're young, and obviously very clean. Now, reach back and hold yourself open for me." I did, feeling silly and awkward but not complaining. One slap had been enough to teach me, for now at least. I felt him stand up, and heard him go to the nightstand and take something out of the drawer. Suddenly, something small and cold was running down my back.

"This is a tube of Anal Ease. It will help you as we explore this area by numbing you somewhat." He coated his finger with the gel, and moments later, I felt it sliding wetly back and forth across my anus. Gently, pressing forward a little at a time, then withdrawing to rub more lubricant in, he started to slide his finger into my ass.

At first, it hurt so badly tears welled out of my eyes. Thankfully, the numbing agent kicked in relatively quickly, and the pain diminished. "Is this hurting?"

"A little," I answered frankly.

"Well, that's to be expected. This is something we'll work on slowly." He continued to work my rear, and before long, he was making noises of approval. "Good, good." He was sliding his finger all the way in and out now. It still felt weird, basically like I had to poop, but I wasn't going to say that, but it was numb enough that it didn't hurt at all anymore. Eventually, it seemed like a really long time, he apparently finished.

Moving my hands away, he rolled me back onto my back and spread my legs again. Without a word and with no warning at all, he buried his face in my pussy. Licking and sucking wildly, he ate me out. I've only been gone down on once before in my life, but this was completely out-of-this-world better. I lost track of the number of times I came. It seemed like he knew exactly what I needed to push me over the edge every single time. He finally stopped almost half an hour later.

Rolling away, I caught his eye. I was puzzled. "But don't you want me to do something for you?" I asked.

He laughed. "Oh, you'll do plenty for me," he assured me. "But not tonight. Tonight I just wanted to test-drive my new toy a little. Now, go wash up and put on your panties and let's go to bed."

We went to separate bathrooms in the suite, both of us hurrying through our nightly ablutions. We met back in the bedroom a few minutes later; he was turning back the covers. I walked over to him. Without thinking, I commented, "I'm not really tired." Whirling around, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and jerked my head back painfully.

"What did you say?"

"N-n-nothing. I'm sorry. I didn't mean I didn't want to go to bed. I was just commenting."

"Stupid little whore," he growled, pushing me down on the bed. I was too stunned to struggle. Probably a good thing, too. I don't actually know what he would have done if I had. Straddling my thighs, he reached behind him and fumbled in the nightstand drawer, pulling out a Gideon copy of the Bible. Using the book, he wailed on my ass cheeks until they were red and raw. I was crying, apologizing, and finally he stopped.

"Are you tired now?" He sneered.

"Yes," I said, sniffling as we crawled into the bed. I cuddled against him, nestling in his arms, and he spooned me and stroked my hair until I drifted off to sleep between the 1,500 thread count sheets.