This is an early draft copy of Chapter 3, P3 three Contracts of The Jessica Files by Punis Russi. Much like we are doing with The Other Side by K.W. Turner, we will be releasing a good amount of the chapters of this story over the coming weeks.
Part three 3 of the Jessica Files, Contracts. This week, we get caught up with Sir and Ma’am and what the framework of contract life is like.
Every day with Jessica is a treasure. I can’t express how much I love her, I can’t express how much I know she loves me. Through action, statement, and known intent, I know how she feels.
I mean, she has signed many contracts with me as my love, as my subservient. As I have done with her. Without a doubt, we both know where the other stands on almost everything.
It’s in the contract, stupid.
Yes, that’s a term that gets thrown around in this household. We used to find ourselves pulling out the thick document known as, umm yeah? “The Contract”. If it weren’t in there, we needed to negotiate.
And that is something we did from time to time. Something would come up, we’d identify it. To the contract, we’d go. Was it something that needed to be amended? A new entry?
We’d negotiated so many times in the past, that it was so easy now. Fuck, Jessica and I had done so many addendums that it was often a difficult time to ensure they were merged forward.
But we always got it, Jessica and I. We always did. Why? Love. And the threat of legal bullshit.
But mainly it was respected. We were in this together, legally, and we loved the fuck out of each other. I can never recall a negative comment I’ve ever made about her that wasn’t to her.
And she would say the same, over and over, to me. She was my “Ma’am” and I was her “Sir”. I’d have it no other way. I’d kill for her, I’d defend her like anyone who loved anything. And she’d do the same.
I know this because while not violent, Jessica has staked her territory a time or two. Oh, how I loved that. Non-violent, stick her flag in me, fuck you bitches he’s mine.
I’d look at her in awe, smiling the whole way, thinking to myself “How fucking lucky am I? How do I have such an amazing woman in my life? I am blessed. Also, she’s mine. Mine!”
Make no mistake, she was mine as I was hers. There were no third parties in this unless it was one of the cats. All of them.
She loved the boys as if they were hers, which also warmed my heart with love. But like me, she loved the fuck out of Takao. He was something very, very special. I’ve known this for a long time now.
She was everything. And I know I was her everything. I know this because she’d always follow the rituals, live the rules, knowing both by heart. She was a lot smarter than most thought. Typical.
My Jessica was as devoted as you could imagine. When I said “jump”, she said, “for how long?”. She was a smart cookie, and that made managing our lives a lot easier. A lot!
And that made ritual time so much more fun for me, exciting for her, and just a lot of fun that the average person would not see or comprehend. This lifestyle, living on contract, is a challenge.
You had your own expectations of the relationship, and…. you had the legal ones. The ones you agreed to with legal representation, notarized, and filed. That kind of love, if you will.
I can only tell my side of our relationship, but I never doubted from the hug till now, that my Jessica loved her kastle. She loved her “Sir”. I can only lay this out in PG terms.
And I will do this as we progress, but I wanted to denote a few things that I’ve gotten mail about, about some of the contexts of the contract.
- Yes, she is to do what I say, when I say, so long as it is within the purview of the law.
- Yes, anything and everything (again, legal speak).
- Yes, she is a wonderful cook, absolutely amazing in her skills. Jessica might as well have gone to the Culinary.
- Yes, she hated dusting the house as much as I did and it was in the contract that neither of us was required to do so. Unless the rest of the tasks were completed.
- Yes, we would play rock/paper/scissors to see who “got” to dust.
- Yes, she has piercings that I requested of her, as per the contract.
- And yes, she really has wanted to murder my knees. Sadly, on more than one occasion.
I am so thankful to have her in my life, and…. that brings us to today’s topic. It’s called “Do what I say, period.” Yes, there are parts of contracts that we know exist but hope we don’t deal with.
I’m not talking about the “Clean the toilet with your tongue.” type of stupidity. No, this is literally telling someone what you want them to do in clear, concise language. Nope, it’s more interesting.
As with the ritual of exchange inside and outside collars, there are things that you are supposed to do in a relationship, non-sexually, and not in a slave-like manner. Unless it’s a Slave Lea thing.
Not like that doesn’t happen every year on 5/4… Sorry, what was I saying? I got lost in an outfit I had gotten her some years ago, one that can only be worn on that date.
contracts contracts contracts contracts contracts