It’s a contract stating limits Anastasia. I have mine, and I need to know what yours are; after all, this is all consensual.”
She looks lost. “What if...” she starts trying to collect her mind from the overflow of information, “what if I’m not willing to do this?”
“Would we have any sort of relationship if I wasn’t going to do this?” she asks softly.
"No," I answer.
“I see. How did you choose this path?”
She looks surprised. But determined to remain on her course of action, and not going for diversion.
“What sort of rules do you want me to follow?”
“After dinner, we’ll go over the document,” I say.
She shrugs, and disarms me once again. “If there are so many of them, and seeing as I have never, ever been in this lifestyle, why me Christian? Clearly you can have your pick of willing volunteers.” I give an audible gasp to her to the point question cutting through all the crap.