A Roll of the Dice

by Tymber Dalton

  “He didn’t fire me. My wife’s in a book club with Shayla. Jenny had dinner with her Tuesday night. Shayla and Tony invited us to their house Friday night for dinner.”

  “Oookay,” Eliza said, looking confused. “So why are you acting like this is a big problem?”

  “Because I don’t want my boss knowing about my sex life!”

  Eliza shrugged. “Then don’t tell him,” she said. She grabbed a couple of empty cups from the table and turned to head to the kitchen.

  “Um, did you hear me?”

  “Yeah, she heard you,” Rusty said. “And she’s right. Who said anything about Tony knowing about your sex life?”

  He stared at his friend for a moment, first thinking Rusty was just yanking his chain.

  Then he realized his friend was serious.

  “What part of that didn’t come across as English?” Mike asked.

  “Sex and BDSM don’t have to be the same thing,” Rusty countered.

  “I don’t want to know your sex life, either, FYI.”

  Rusty grinned. “Ditto, dude. Sex is an intrinsic part of BDSM for a lot of people, sure. But there’s other stuff wrapped up with it that can be separated from the sex and discussed. Frankly, you couldn’t ask for better mentors than Tony and Shay. They’re great. They even teach classes.”

  “They…what?”

  Eliza returned. “I think you just fried his brain, barbarian.”

  “Go do some reading,” Rusty told him. “I can send you some links.”

  “I don’t want to watch bondage porn.” He knew his friend enjoyed hentai to a borderline creepy extent.

  Rusty laughed. “I meant links to articles.”

  “I read Shayla’s articles.”

  “I meant to other articles. I assumed you’d already read Shayla’s articles. Duh. They always tell newbies about them to give them a starting point.”

  Mike gathered his stuff. “I thought I could talk about this, but I’m not ready to yet. Not even with you guys. Sorry.”

  Eliza reached out and touched his arm. “Seriously, if you need an ear, or need to ask questions, come to us. I’ll make Mongo here behave himself.”

  “Ugh,” Rusty joked.

  She rolled her eyes. “I swear he’s not a complete idiot when it comes to this stuff, no matter how he sometimes comes off about it. He really is a sensitive guy underneath that all that dumb.”

  “Thanks. If I get to the point where I feel I can talk about it, I will.” Mike bid them good night and hurried to his car, wanting to get on the road.

  Tomorrow night was their dinner with Tony and Shayla. Mike and Jenny had agreed to table their own discussions until after then, because she was still sorting out what it was she wanted and how to communicate that to Mike.

  Mike was good with that, because it meant delaying the inevitable conversation.

  He didn’t want to hurt Jenny’s feelings, but he felt overwhelmed and unprepared to deal with all of this. Information overload. Like his mental processors dangerously hovered near meltdown.

  And when processors went, he knew from his own job that ugly cascade effects could happen.

  He didn’t want his marriage to be a casualty of those ugly cascade effects.

  He slowed as he neared home. Was this really a path he wanted to walk? He could simply tell Jenny he didn’t think he could do this, and let the subject drop.

  Maybe she wouldn’t bring it up again.

  Ever.

  Then again, that would make him a real shit of a husband if he did that. A coward. He’d prided himself on always having those difficult discussions with Jenny, of never running from them. He strongly believed that was one of the reasons they were still married after all these years.

  And what about preaching to his own son all his life that you never ran from the difficult discussions? That good relationships were worth working as hard—or harder—on than any job?

  If he ran from this instead of facing it head-on, what kind of man, much less husband and father, would that make him?

  Not the kind he wanted to be, that was for sure.

  Deciding to put it out of his mind for the evening, he pulled into his driveway, a little relieved to see Jenny wasn’t home yet.

  Dammit, I am a coward.

  Chapter Twelve

  Michael had never been to his boss’s house before.

  He suspected none of his fellow employees had, either.

  When they pulled into the Danielses’ driveway Friday evening and shut off the car, Michael stared at the front door even as Jenny reached for her door handle.

  “You coming?” she asked.

  “Yeah, just…give me a moment, please.”

  “This is a good thing, Mike.”

  He still didn’t know what this was exactly, but good definitely wasn’t the top descriptor he would have picked for the situation.

  More because of the plaintive look in Jenny’s eyes than anything else, he reached for his door handle and got out. It was a nice house, situated on a very large lot. Some of their neighbors had huge houses on even larger properties, with cows and horses peacefully grazing in fenced pastures.

  Not the ritziest area of Sarasota county, but far from a slum, either. Especially when you took into consideration that much of the area around this neighborhood had been densely built up over the years with cookie-cutter houses slapped onto lots barely large enough to hold them, so close together you could reach out your window and touch your neighbor’s house.

  They had almost made it to the front door when it opened, Tony’s wife standing in the entry. “Hi! I thought I heard you drive up. Welcome, and please come in.”

  Shayla wore a leather collar around her neck, but she also wore shorts and a tank top that wouldn’t have been out of place nearly anywhere in a Florida summer.

  Michael didn’t know why that surprised him and filed it away for future consideration.

  They followed her through the house into the kitchen, which opened onto the dining room area. Tony stood at the stove, apparently putting the finishing touches on something.

  Whatever it was, the house was filled with a delicious aroma.

  Mike was also mildly surprised to see his boss wearing shorts and a T-shirt. He’d never seen the man in anything but slacks or jeans and button-up shirts.

  “Did you guys find the place okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, thanks,” Michael said.

  The house was spotless, but also bore a comfy, lived-in feel. Not stuffy or sterile at all.

  “I belatedly realized we should have mentioned this when we invited you, but I hope you’re not allergic to cats. We have two.”

  “No,” Jenny said, “we’re fine.”

  Come to think of it, he had heard Tony talk about their cats before, one of the few personal things he knew about the man.

  Well, other than the fact that his wife is his slave.

  He still found it difficult to reconcile that, what he knew about the man he’d worked under for five years, and the man outside that work setting. Yeah, in some ways, he could see how Tony the hard-ass and not unreasonable perfectionist at work could also be that way at home.

  But to hit his wife?

  He didn’t know if he could respect the man now.

  “Pet,” Tony said, “why don’t you give them a quick tour of the house while I finish this?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She offered them a smile. “Follow me.”

  It was a nice house, and, despite the huge lot, not too much more expensive-looking than their own. They caught sight of one of the cats zipping into a spare bedroom, making Shayla laugh.

  “They’re a little shy around new company they don’t know. Once they’ve met someone a couple of times, they don’t disappear like that.”

  When they returned to the kitchen, Tony was transferring whatever he’d been cooking into a serving dish. “Pet, show them the playroom.”

  The woman barely faltered, although Michael could see from the look on her f
ace that her husband’s request had thrown her for a loop. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Well, that’s part of the reason they’re here tonight. To learn.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She led them through the kitchen to another door Michael had assumed led to a utility room or the garage. They passed through a utility room, but on the other side of that, revealed when Shayla reached inside the door and flipped on the lights, was a…

  Well, a private dungeon.

  She stepped into the room. “Sir used to teach small classes here, but now with Venture so close, it’s easier for Him to just go there. Less liability for us, too. And more privacy for us. We have private parties and invite friends. Some of them you met at the munch the other night.”

  “Teach?” Michael asked. So he hadn’t misheard Rusty.

  “Sir teaches a couple of different classes, like rope, relationship dynamics, a couple of different things,” she said. Her normal tone of voice could have been describing any vanilla activity, not BDSM.

  “I had no idea,” Michael mumbled.

  Shayla smiled. “That’s because he’s very careful to keep his personal and professional lives separate.”

  Jenny, for her part, seemed over-the-moon excited and started asking Shayla questions about various pieces of furniture in the room.

  With equal enthusiasm, Shayla answered her questions while Michael tried to keep his head from spinning.

  I’ve been married to her for twenty-five years. Who is she, really?

  If this nugget was that well hidden so deeply inside her, what else was there?

  And would he be able to deal with it once unearthed?

  * * * *

  Jenny had been filled with excitement and anticipation all day. This was so much more than she’d ever expected. Talking, much less to someone they knew, about all of this. And seeing how they lived it.

  Lived it!

  It gave her hope that maybe she and Michael could get to this point. Okay, maybe not with their own home dungeon, but still.

  They could get a membership to that club everyone had talked about and go there. She could finally start exploring what she wanted out of life without feeling guilty about it taking time away from her son.

  Maybe they could grow closer than ever as a couple.

  No, she had no complaints about her marriage. She loved the man. They’d had bumps here and there along the way, but nothing major, and certainly nothing she’d ever even considered slightly divorce-worthy before. Trust wasn’t an issue.

  She trusted her husband with her heart and her life.

  Although she suspected she had far more confidence in his abilities than he did. Getting past his childhood might prove problematic.

  But with someone Michael respected, such as Tony, to refer to as a mentor, maybe he’d quickly come to enjoy this as much as she hoped he would.

  There wasn’t any use trying to explain the fire inside her now, fanned by the winds of reality.

  People lived this.

  If people lived this, they could live it, too. It wasn’t just fantasies limited to the books she now devoured on a daily basis.

  It was doable.

  * * * *

  Michael wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand there and listen to Shayla blithely explain to his wife the merits of one cane or riding crop or paddle over another. Fortunately, Tony called out from the kitchen.

  “Pet, dinner is ready.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She offered them a smile and headed toward the door. “I’m sure we’ll be talking about all this a lot more.”

  “I hope so,” Jenny said, looking happier than he’d seen her look in…well, a while.

  Hoping they couldn’t hear his resigned sigh, Mike followed them out to the kitchen.

  They were seated and had filled their plates over small talk about the food when Tony took charge of the discussion.

  “I suspect,” he said, “that a lot of what we’ll talk about tonight might be uncomfortable for one or both of you. I want you to know the same thing we tell other newbies. Have the hard conversations. Power through them. Because at some point, I guarantee you, the two of you will be the experienced ones having these conversations with newbies when it suddenly hits you that the conversations are now easy.”

  Mike felt his face redden. “I doubt that,” he muttered.

  “Well, you can doubt it all you want,” Tony replied, his tone light. “But I can’t count how many times I’ve seen it happen.”

  “He’s right,” Shayla said. “You should have seen me early on trying to talk to Sir about this.”

  “So how much of what you wrote in those articles actually happened?” Jenny asked.

  “All of it. I changed names and fictionalized a few situations to protect people’s privacy, but it all happened.” Michael didn’t miss the megawatt force of her smile as she looked at her husband. “And I can’t tell you how grateful I am that it happened. It changed my life for the better.”

  “I’m not perfect,” Tony said. “I made some missteps along the way. I thought I was above getting emotionally involved when the situation was originally supposed to be a professional kind of arrangement. Training. I never expected to fall in love with her. And I damn near lost her by being an idiot.”

  That admission perked up Michael’s ears. “You mind me asking how?”

  “That’s why we’re here tonight,” Tony said. “Complete honesty. As we already agreed, it stays here, but yes, you can ask anything you want.”

  Tony talked about how, a couple of years ago, he’d gone out of town to do the install in Denver for their colocation data center there. About how he’d failed to contact Shayla while out of town, and she’d thought he had zero interest in her since their agreement had ended. How he’d been chewed out by one of their friends over him failing to contact Shayla. And how when he’d returned from Denver, he’d gone straight to Shayla’s in the middle of the night and confessed his feelings.

  Come to think of it, Michael remembered that install. He’d volunteered to work extra hours to help pick up the slack in their normal staffing by their boss being out of town. Remembered how Tony had seemed a little preoccupied above and beyond his usual job stresses before he’d left.

  And then how, despite being overwhelmed with work when he’d returned, Tony had seemed like a happier man, lighter in spirit.

  “So you see,” Tony finished, “I’m not perfect. All I can tell you is that you admit your humanity, don’t be afraid to say, ‘I screwed up,’ make amends for the screw-up, and move on. Communication and trust are key.”

  Mike tried to gather his thoughts. “Any question, huh?”

  Tony nodded.

  Might as well lob the hot potato now. “How can you justify beating your wife?”

  Michael had expected Tony to get angry over that question. Maybe even end the evening right there.

  The man’s reaction surprised him. Tony looked at his wife. “Pet, do you want to handle that one, or want me to do it?”

  Shayla looked amused. “I’ll answer it, Sir.” She returned Michael’s gaze from across the table, meeting him head-on without a hint of reluctance. “At any time in what we do, I can safeword and tell Sir to stop, and He will. I don’t always enjoy the physical aspect of the play we do. What I enjoy is submitting to Him, and how good that makes me feel, because I’m pleasing Him. Some people are pain sluts and enjoy pain. I’m not one of them.

  “But what we do isn’t all about pain. Sometimes Sir might put me into a forced orgasm situation and make me come until I’m finally forced to safeword. But I can submit to Sir because I know He knows my hard limits, and I trust Him never to cross those without my permission. In a healthy relationship of this type, it’s the submissive or slave who holds the power, because it’s the submissive or slave who sets their limits. No matter what happens, consent and trust are the bedrock of everything. If I withdraw my consent, everything immediately stops.”

  “But if he’s doing things to you that yo
u don’t like, why don’t you stop him?” Mike didn’t dare risk a glance at his boss.

  “Because Sir has this evil little grin that melts me every time. I’d do just about anything to earn that grin. And I love Him, obviously.” She smiled at her husband. “He promised me early on that He’d reprogram my brain to enjoy things I never thought I’d ever enjoy. And He was right.”

  Michael thought Jenny might have let out a soft little gasp. But when he looked at her, he could tell from her wide eyes and the flush in her cheeks that she was absorbing every word.

  “I am,” Tony said, “a very dominant person, if you haven’t already guessed that from working for me for five years. I used to have trouble in my relationships because I had this hang-up that was built upon years of societal conditioning. You don’t hit women. You don’t control women. You don’t fill-in-the-blank with women. But there always was something inside me that felt like I was missing part of life. Then, one day, I found out there are women who enjoy being spanked. Or tied up and forced to orgasm until they have to safeword. Or who like whatever it is they like. And when I realized that, it was like I’d finally found the real me.”

  “What if she doesn’t like something, though? I don’t see how you in good conscience can make her do it.”

  “Pet?” Tony said.

  Shayla wore that smile, the one that said she was used to having this conversation. “Because Sir knows if I really want Him to stop, I’ll safeword.”

  “So you just, what, fuck around however you want with whomever you want?”

  “No,” Shayla and Tony both emphatically said. Tony continued. “No one touches my wife without my permission, or hers. Ever. She’s volunteered as a class demo dolly a couple of times for trusted friends for non-sexual subjects, like bondage techniques, but we are monogamous. We have friends who are poly, like Tilly, Landry, and Cris, whom you met at the munch. We have friends who are swingers, or who have open relationships. But we are completely monogamous.”

  A smile filled the man’s face, one Michael had seen him wear before at work. Playful, but full of warning. “I don’t share well with others.”