by Sahara Kelly
“Watch her skin, her eyes, her muscles. See if she’s wet for you, if her nipples are reddening and bunching under their restraints. How about her buttocks? Do your blows leave a glow or a stripe? Does she flinch at them then thrust back for more? Learn all of this Alan, learn to read your sub’s silent language. Then you will know what to do for her and with her when you have completed the scene. Whether you should take her in your arms and just hold her or fuck her hard and long. Let her tell you, Alan, because the truth is that there is no ‘leader’ in this experience.”
Laura’s belly tightened and her body tensed as she read over Adam’s shoulder.
“There is no right or wrong, no ‘my way or the highway’. There is only you and her. A couple. One entity functioning for pleasure. And oh my, what pleasure it is.”
Laura slowly backed away as Adam began to sign his name and tap the keys which would post his message. She reached the safety of the kitchen and rocked back on her heels, trying to come to terms with what she’d seen and what she’d read.
She was informed enough to be able to put the information together. The death of a “Master”. The plea of a “Pet”. And Adam’s email to someone about how to handle a submissive.
Dear God. Her husband was a Dominant.
Adam sat rigid before his computer. His gut churned and his palms were sweaty.
He’d seen Laura’s reflection in the screen. Watched her as she’d read his post.
She knew.
Chapter 2
There was a clatter in the front hallway and the door banged shut.
“Adam? I’m home,” called Laura.
Okay. This was how they were going to play it. She was going to pretend that she was unaware of anything unusual. No sign that she’d peeked over his shoulder. No discussion of the fact that he’d been busily advising a new Dom about the intricacies of concluding a scene with his sub.
Adam sighed, unsure of whether to be relieved or saddened. He shrugged.
At this point it was Laura’s call, not his.
“You’re early,” he called back, closing down his connection and killing his browser.
“Yeah. I just couldn’t take the last hour of steppers, treadmills and spinning. All intensely arranged to make sure that I work like hell and get absolutely nowhere,” she grinned at him as he came into the kitchen and crossed the room to hug her.
“Mmm. You smell sweaty. Nice,” he murmured, enjoying the feel of her body. She was warm and firm in all the right places, and he thought now, as he had thought for all the years he’d known her, how well their bodies fit.
Laura chuckled and hugged him back. “You are the only man who thinks sweat smells good.”
“Your sweat, Laura. There’s a difference.” He released her and went to the kitchen counter. “Want a cup of tea or something?”
“Oh yeah, that sounds like heaven. I’ll go get out of this stuff. Back in a sec...”
She disappeared in a whirl of athletic gear, her long dark hair swinging free in its scrunched ponytail. This was Laura the wonder-workout-woman, instead of Ms. Stratton-Burns, corporate lady lawyer.
Adam loved them both, but admitted he had a soft spot for the hot and delightfully sweaty heap of aching muscles who staggered home from the gym twice a week. It was very hard for him to not demand she strip naked for him and let him fuck her blind the minute she walked into the apartment.
But he loved her. And he knew that she was flat out exhausted. It would not have been fair. For the ten thousandth time he buried the notion.
He sighed and made tea.
His thoughts flashed to Master Granger. Was this what he meant when he’d begged Adam not to let his life go to waste? Was he simply allowing himself to slide into a mediocre existence? Was he denying a part of himself out of love for Laura?
Or was it out of fear of losing her? He didn’t know.
Laura returned, hair tumbled over her shoulders and wearing her favorite robe. She grabbed her tea and took a long deep swallow.
“God that’s good.” She closed her eyes in pleasure.
“I got some sad news today,” began Adam. “An old friend passed away.”
Laura opened her eyes and watched as he passed her the letter. “Oh Adam, I’m sorry. I remember him. Such a charming man...” she turned the letter over. “Adam? Who’s Fay?”
Adam chuckled. “Fay is a Pet. A sweetheart. Someone who loves to be nice to everyone.”
“Ah.” Laura read on. “It seems that she’s missed you.”
Adam didn’t miss the sharpened tone or the pointed glance that went with that statement. “I don’t know if you remember, but I lived with Master Granger and some of his friends for a couple of years. I think it was my senior year and definitely a couple of years in grad school. Right before we met, actually...”
“Master Granger?”
“Yeah, we all called him that. It seemed to fit...” Adam shrugged, passing off the comment with a casualness that cost him a lot to feign.
“A dungeon, huh? Odd place for a wake?”
“Not for Master Granger,” smiled Adam. “He was unique. One of a kind.”
“I am sorry, Adam. You’ll miss him?”
“I will miss knowing he’s there. We lost touch a while ago, but that’s not the same as this. Losing touch is one thing, losing that person for ever is another.”
Adam’s eyes filled with an unusually strong emotion. “He was a true friend, Laura. Never judged us, never made us feel uncomfortable about who we were. He answered our questions, cared about us, helped us, listened to us...he was a better father than mine ever was.”
“Good lord. He was special to you, wasn’t he? I never realized...you never said anything...” Laura stared at Adam in astonishment.
“Well, once you and I were married, the situation changed a lot. We were together and my life with the Master sort of slid into the past. We had a future to look forward to.”
“We must go, Adam. Definitely. When is it?” She glanced down at the letter again. “Saturday. Right. We’ll be there.”
Adam bit his lip. “Are you sure? They are a—a different-thinking group. I wouldn’t want you shocked or surprised.”
“Adam, they’ve lost a friend, as have you.” Laura reached over and put her hand on Adam’s. “Let’s go and give them what support we can. You say you lost track of Granger recently. I don’t want to have that happen with any of your other friends, okay?”
Adam covered her hand with his. “Thank you, Laura.” The words came from his heart. She couldn’t know how much it would mean to him to be there on Saturday, nor could she know that he wasn’t quite ready to tell her all about his life with Master Granger.
Soon, though, he knew he’d have to. And then...well, only time would tell.
*~~*~~*
The timer had turned off the television, the news was over and it had to be close to midnight, but Laura knew Adam was still awake. She certainly was.
Her mind was working over the information she’d learned on this rather unusual night.
She stifled a snort when she realized it was Wednesday. Weren’t major life-changing events supposed to happen on important days? Not at ten o’clock on a Wednesday night?
Adam was a Dominant. Someone who wanted women to submit to them. Or at least that’s what she thought it meant. Damn. There was so much she didn’t know. Plan number one was to spend as much time as she could over the next forty-eight hours learning every single thing possible about Adam’s past lifestyle.
Her mind wandered. Should she get some leather clothes? Nah. Stupid. If Adam had liked her in leather, he would have bought her leather. He enjoyed shopping with her.
But a pair of spiked boots? Oooh. Now that might be fun.
Her gut quickened at the thought of standing before Adam in high shiny black boots with a 4 inch, no make that a 5 inch, spiked heel. And nothing else. She shivered.
Adam turned over facing away from her.
What would it be
like, she wondered. How would it be to have a man demand everything from you, even your right to function on a purely physical level?
For once, Mark’s fervid ramblings about being spanked made a little more sense. She began to visualize a ‘scene’, where she was bending over the bed and Adam...Adam was going to spank her.
She was astonished to realize her nipples were hardening. She was becoming aroused just by thinking of her nakedness exposed to his gaze. Her cheeks would be bare, and his hand would perhaps caress them before he spanked them. Hard.
She fidgeted, and sighed.
This was not good. Her vibrator was in her bathroom cabinet, behind her feminine supplies. She only used it on Sundays when Adam went off to play golf.
It wasn’t Sunday, and far from being on the golf course, Adam was right next to her, lying in bed.
He snuffled into the pillow, reaching up and pulling it into a more comfortable position.
Laura froze, a daring thought in her mind. Could she? Would he let her? Could she tell him something of how she was feeling by her actions?
Tentatively, she reached over beneath the covers and rested her hand on his naked hip.
He stilled beneath her touch.
“Adam?” she whispered. “Can’t sleep?” She let her hand slide down over his skin until she brushed his cock. He was hard as granite.
“Me neither.” She curled her fingers around him, listening to the sharp intake of his breath as she squeezed him gently.
“Laura,” he groaned.
“Sssh, let me touch you.” Daringly she slid over next to him, pressing herself down the length of his back and legs. She let her fingers play around his cock and slip lower to caress his balls. “I want to touch you,” she said, more to herself than to him.
“Laura, I don’t...” stuttered Adam.
“You don’t want me to?” She pulled her hand back from his heat.
“God, no.” He seized her wrist and slapped her back around his cock just to make his meaning absolutely clear. “I want you to. Please. Go ahead. Just don’t do anything you don’t want to do, okay?”
“Okay.” A small smile played around her mouth as she pressed her breasts into his back and let her fingers do the walking. And the talking.
Adam had known she was awake. He could sense her movements, soft but urgent, next to him. If he didn’t know better, he could swear he smelled her arousal. What was she thinking? What was she imagining?
Was she yearning for that purple plastic vibrator she’d tucked behind her feminine supplies?
He’d found it by mistake a year or so ago, and been quite fascinated by the mechanics of it. A small exercise in surveillance—simple to anyone who read James Bond novels with any degree of devotion—produced the information that she used it on Sundays when he was off playing golf.
Well, that was fine. Arousing in some ways. She didn’t need to know that he imagined her using it on herself when he was jerking off in the shower. Not that he did that a lot, but there were those mornings...
And now, here she was, playing with his cock and doing things to it with her fingers that he’d only dreamed of.
Was she feeling guilty? Trying to discover if he was going to roll over and spank her? Was she curious all of a sudden because she’d discovered he was a Dom? Or maybe she couldn’t sleep either, and just wanted to do this. “This” being the most marvelous hand job. She’d not seemed to be very interested in genital foreplay. Or maybe she had and they’d just lost touch with it. He suddenly remembered how she used to spend quite a bit of time loving him with her hands and her mouth. And that he used to return the favor. With pleasure. When had they stopped?
And why was she rediscovering it now?
Whatever the reason, it felt fabulous.
Her hand slid from the base to the tip of his cock, and she gently stroked beneath the head, finding that little spot that sent shudders up his spine.
Her breasts were pressing hotly against his back and he knew his own nipples were hard, not to mention the two bullets that were drilling into his skin from behind.
She grunted and pushed herself upright. “Adam. It’s not enough. I want more...” she pressed him onto his back, pulled her nightshirt over her head in one fluid move and settled herself between his legs.
Adam’s jaw dropped as she leaned forward and sucked him deep into her mouth.
Then his hips bucked as he fought the urge to thrust into her hot wetness. She was working him hard, letting her teeth graze against his sensitive skin as she pulled back and swirling her tongue wildly as she sucked him back in.
Her hands were fondling his balls, almost roughly, and he was writhing with pleasure before he knew it.
His heart began to pound and his mind emptied of everything but the sensation of his rising arousal. His buttocks tightened, and he wanted nothing more than to fuck Laura hard.
No gentle loving, no delicate touches or nibbling kisses. He wanted to pound himself into her. Now. This minute. Maybe even sooner. He wanted her beneath him, on her face, buttocks available and naked for his pleasure.
He damn near howled at the thought.
Too close...she was bringing him too close. At this rate he’d come violently down her throat in seconds.
Using every bit of training he could muster, he pulled his cock out of her mouth and reached for her.
His hands grasped her breasts roughly, abrading the nipples and making them harden even more. He slid a leg between hers and forced it up against her pussy, rubbing it slightly over her and feeling the moisture that was already flowing.
Good, she was aroused too. He moved quickly, fastening his lips around her breast and suckling her with enthusiasm. She sobbed out a breath as his mouth moved to the other breast, tugging, teasing, biting softly.
His hands filled themselves with her buttocks. He squeezed, hard, pulling the soft mounds apart. Stretching her skin and then kneading the flesh. His movements were determined, and he knew where her most vulnerable areas were.
He found the one right inside her thigh and she sobbed again, catching a gasp as his fingers spread her juices around her sensitive folds.
In teeth-clenching agony now, Adam flipped Laura onto her stomach and pulled her onto her hands and knees.
She opened her legs and moaned as one hand felt for her clit and pressed it hard.
Adam grasped his cock and pushed against her hot flesh, finding the way slippery and welcoming, oiled with her honey and lubricated by the drops of pre-cum his cock was already leaking.
With a harsh grunt, he thrust into her body, deep into her warmth, slapping his balls against her as he buried himself to the hilt.
She cried out even as she began to come around him. He pinched her clit and heard her catch her breath as the most enormous spasms began to wrench things low in her belly. She clamped down on him again and again, until the movements pulled him over the edge and into his own orgasm.
With a mighty shout he erupted, jerking against her, shuddering inside her, and filling her with his cum against her womb. It was mind blowing, and Adam completely lost touch with reality for long seconds as his balls emptied themselves into his woman.
He sagged limply against her as her legs slid apart and she collapsed onto the bed.
“God, Laura,” he mumbled, slipping out of her, all sticky and relaxed and wonderful.
“Mmmm,” she muttered.
Ever true to her nature, Laura was sound asleep.
Chapter 3
The next couple of days were filled with work and research. Laura juggled meetings, clients, lunches and phone calls with hours spent reading and surfing the Internet in search of information about the Dom/sub lifestyle.
She desperately needed to get some kind of feel for the psychology behind it, and maybe begin to understand the hidden facets of her husband.
Within an hour of her first “search” command, Mark was panting at her shoulder.
“Here, Queenie, try this one...” he said,
leaning over and typing in an address. “This is a great site for the philosophical discussion. They’ve got some good scene suggestions as well...oooh and look here...a new article by Master Thorsonn...”
Mark had not surprised her with his immediate announcement that he was a slave. As soon as he’d seen her research topic, he’d been right there next to her, guiding her, talking to her, enthusiastically answering her questions.
“I’m a slave, dear. That’s someone who is submissive pretty much all the time. Some of us can be slaves 24/7. It’s hard sometimes, but it’s worth it. Especially if you have the most wonderful Master in the whole world,” Mark had rolled his eyes with pleasure.
Laura had met Mark’s “Master” at one of their office celebrations. Paul was charming, short, and delightfully intelligent and not at all what one would imagine a “Master” to be. His wit and humor had enlivened an otherwise boring affair for her, and she’d simply thought of him as Mark’s significant other.
Now she realized that Mark had quietly waited on Paul and hovered at his side, not through a polite need to ease his introduction to S-B, H and M, but as part of his devotion to his Master.
Mark showed her his ring, an unusual and simple iron band with a small hoop. “It’s modeled after the one in ‘The Story of O’,” he said proudly. “It does tell others in the lifestyle that I’m a slave. My Master wears a similar one. They’re engraved too...”
With Mark’s guidance, Laura learned some of the basics. She was surprised, intrigued and confused.
Which Mark said was perfectly normal.
“But Mark, I don’t think I could do this stuff for ever. How could I possibly function if I had to ask Adam for permission to go to the bathroom, for chrissake?”
She threw her hands in the air after reading one particularly intense discussion between Doms and subs in Mark’s recommended chat room. “There’s a whole etiquette to this, and what almost seems to be a quite rigid code of behavior to go along with it.”
Mark chuckled. “You’re getting hung up on the details, oh Queen of mine. There’s absolutely no need for you to go that deep. Unless you find you want to. And that’s not likely to happen for several years.”
