by Sahara Kelly
Laura sighed. “This is all so unexpected, Mark. It’s like a brick came out of the blue and whacked me up beside the ear.”
Mark reached around her shoulders and hugged her. “It’s quite all right to feel that way, sweetie. You’ve had exactly—” he glanced at his watch, “—twenty-nine hours to absorb the fact that your husband is a secret Dom.”
Laura looked back at the screen, noticing how some names were capitalized, others not. It appeared that even entering a chat room had its prescribed behaviors.
“Look, Laura...don’t start worrying about this. You’ve plunged into a very deep pool and a lot of this stuff...” he waved his hands at the screen, “involves people who have been living and thinking this way for their whole lives.”
Mark swung her chair around to face him. “Remember that there are a gazillion different degrees of submission. From the occasional scarf-around-the-headboard, through fun with leather and whips, to kneeling every time your Master enters the room. There’s Doms and subs, and Masters and slaves, and everything in between.”
Laura couldn’t have looked away from Mark if she’d tried. The picture he was painting was elusive but fascinating. She felt more intrigued by the minute and more alive somehow at the thought of what could lie ahead for her and Adam.
“It’s most likely that you will become a sexual submissive. God, don’t fire me for talking like this, okay?”
Laura’s eyes were wide as she shook her head. Speech was beyond her as wild visions traipsed their studded and leathered way through her mind.
“Sexual submissives enjoy the dynamics of a relationship where sexually one partner is submissive to the other. It is simply a matter of adding a different and potentially exciting level of fun to a relationship, and invoking some elements of trust, and vulnerability that can deepen and intensify not only the sex, but the love, between two people.” Mark pulled his face into a very sober expression. “It ends at the bedroom door.”
Laura nodded at his words. “So being a sexual submissive is a private, between couples, kind of thing?”
“Good grief, all this is private and between couples, Laura. We don’t go around wearing leather thongs that we flash at a moment’s notice. There are subtle hints that others in the lifestyle might pick up on, but you aren’t going to find yourself on a leash behind Adam as you pick out frozen foods in the supermarket. If you do, let me know. I want pictures.”
Mark couldn’t hide his grin. “It really is quite funny. Here you are, queen of all you survey. High powered Priestess of Judicia, ruling a big firm with an iron fist in a velvet glove. There’s hubby, dear sweet Adam, enriching the lives of innocent fourth graders with crayfish life cycles and the presidents of the USA. And who turns out to be the Dom?” Mark batted his eyelashes. “Why Adam the Gorgeous, of course.”
Laura pressed her hands against her eyes. “I’m soooo glad this situation is providing entertainment for someone,” she said dryly.
“Only me, darling. You know my lips are sealed tight.” He mimed zipping his mouth to Laura, who sighed again.
“Well, dear Mr. Submissive Zipped Lips, what the heck do I wear to a wake held in a Dungeon? To which I am to be accompanied by my newly-revealed Dom husband, and where it appears I will get to meet his former Pet. Or Pets, plural. I haven’t figured that out yet.”
“Hmm.” Mark rested one elegant hip on the desk and pondered the question. “Well. One thing is for sure.”
Laura raised an eyebrow.
“We need to shop.”
*~~*~~*
Adam couldn’t believe that they were on their way to Master Granger’s wake. The last two days had been somewhat of a blur for him.
Both he and Laura had tiptoed around each other, carefully not mentioning the wild sex that had erupted between them, or the trip to the Dungeon that lay ahead. He was thankful, for once, for Laura’s unusual sexual response.
It had taken him a year or so into their relationship to get used to Laura’s habit of dropping off to sleep immediately after her orgasms. She’d apologized many times, but said it was just part of the way her body worked. Adam had mentioned it briefly to his doctor during one of his annual physicals, and been reassured that yes, it was quite normal for some women to enter the resolution phase of sexual arousal only to immediately relax so completely that their bodies slept.
He had just taken it as part and parcel of Laura, who she was, how she responded. It didn’t change the way he loved her, and God knew it had never affected the sex.
And God knew how long it had been since they’d exploded around each other like they had on Wednesday night.
Adam could sense the tension in Laura, however, as she sat next to him, gazing out of the car window.
She looked amazing.
His jaw had dropped as she came out of the bedroom to collect her bag.
Her hair was down, loose and shining around her shoulders, making her appear more vulnerable than usual. Her black pantsuit was a brilliantly cut exercise in sensuality. The jacket was simple and understated, double breasted, with modest lapels. She wore it buttoned all the way, with a single strand of pearls at her neck. Adam could see no blouse.
The slim pants hugged her hips and fell to the tops of her ankle boots in a straight line of neatly creased fabric. As she turned, Adam noticed how snugly they caressed her buttocks. Not a line of underwear showed.
He couldn’t resist. He reached over and ran his hand over her bottom.
She jumped. “Adam!”
He grinned. “Couldn’t help it. I like this suit.” He’d felt not a trace of a panty. It was a strong possibility that his conservative lawyer wife was not wearing any underwear. His cock liked the thought. So did he.
“Well, I’m glad. After all, I have to meet Fay and her friends,” said Laura, not realizing that her voice was reflecting her uncertainty.
“Sweetheart, I haven’t seen Fay or anyone from the Dungeon in years. And even when they were part of my life, I chose you.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I guess all wives go through this when they know they’re going to meet ex-girlfriends,” she grimaced and let Adam pull her into his arms.
She leaned her softness against him. Damn. He couldn’t feel a bra either. Did she have anything on underneath?
Distracted, he had a difficult time following her conversation.
“...how long it will take?”
“Mmm?”
“Adam? I said do you have an idea how long the drive will take?”
“Sorry. My mind was wandering.” Underneath your jacket and pants. “About an hour, I should guess.”
And his estimate was very close, because slightly over an hour’s drive had brought them to the winding gravel driveway of Master Granger’s Dungeon.
Laura had been mostly silent next to him as they drove, deep in her own thoughts, as was he.
He remembered his first drive to this place.
He’d been a senior in college, confused, lonely, unable to keep a girlfriend, and a little angry at women in general.
Then he’d met Granger Fields at a seminar on human relationships, and been struck by the older man’s humor, intelligence and sympathetic friendship. The result had been an invitation to dinner at the Dungeon, and that had led to Adam’s moving in and changing his life so completely.
His years there had allowed him to absorb the concepts involved in being a Dom. To achieve success and to become a Trainer. Fay had been one of his trainees.
It had been very sexual between them, in spite of Master Granger’s disapproval. But Fay and Adam were young, healthy and attracted to each other.
It spoke volumes for the Master’s trust that he continued to allow Adam to train Fay even though they had crossed the physical boundary and had become sexually intimate.
Adam couldn’t help but remember how it was to have Fay beg for his cock. To have a woman desire him to the point where his every need, his every thought was of prime importance to her. Where her only
goal was to please him. He had cared very deeply for her, and been moved by how much she was prepared to offer him. It wasn’t until he met Laura that he realized how little he was giving Fay in return.
With Laura he gave all he had.
He’d eased back and gentled Fay away from him, and she had, in some obscure way, understood. She’d cried, but Master Granger had been there to smooth over the rough moments, and Fay had become the Master’s slave, slipping into the role as if she’d been born to it.
Adam had never looked back.
Until now.
Until the gravel crunching beneath the wheels of the car opened the floodgates of his memory, and his eyes filled with tears as he realized that this time there would be no Master waiting to embrace his friend on the porch.
Laura slipped her hand into Adam’s. It was cold, and Adam found the shock of her cool touch brought his thoughts back to the present.
“You okay?” she asked, concern for him evident in her gaze.
“Yeah, thanks.” He squeezed her hand. “It’s just difficult for a moment, realizing he’s not here.”
Laura moved nearer and slipped her arm around Adam’s waist, letting her body lean against him and share his emotions.
He dropped a kiss on her head, understanding her gesture, and together they turned to the porch.
The door opened and a petite woman stepped out, sun shining on her blonde hair.
She lowered her eyes respectfully. “Welcome home, Adam, Sir.”
“Hello Fay.”
Chapter 4
The house was beautiful, as were the grounds upon which it sat. The French doors from the great room were open, and Laura eased herself away from a conversation to stroll outside. And breathe.
She felt stifled, lungs oppressed, crushed, prevented from expanding and taking in the oxygen she so desperately needed.
Everyone had been incredibly charming to her and made her feel welcome, even before Adam had introduced her. She noted that no mention had been made of her profession, her professional name, or anything personal. She was “Laura, my wife.”
And for her, right now, that was more than enough.
She had not really known what to expect as they’d followed Fay into the house. But this certainly hadn’t been it.
Gracious rooms, elegantly decorated, and tastefully furnished? Where were the stocks? The whips? The odd crosses upon which slaves would be chained and punished?
Instead of a Dungeon, she’d found a country estate. She couldn’t quite decide whether to be glad or sorry, but she did know she liked it.
Who could fail to like the tall ceilings, the book covered walls, and the mammoth fireplace whose darkened bricks told of many a cozy blaze during long winter nights. She smiled at herself and chuckled as she realized how stupid so many of her preconceived notions had been.
And yet...
She turned and leaned against the low stone balustrade that ringed the patio. From this vantage point she could see back through the windows into the room she’d just left.
And there it was. A certain something that said this was no ordinary gathering of friends at a wake.
Perhaps it was her heightened awareness of people’s reactions to each other. Perhaps it was her research into a lifestyle that she’d previously considered involved only druggies, dropouts and maybe motor cycle gangs or leather lovers.
But her eye was accustomed to dealing with large groups—it was part and parcel of her job. And this group was different. There were tight knots of people, touching, nodding, some with eyes cast down, others with heads held high. But always they were radiating some kind of togetherness. A familiarity with each other that bespoke a certain level of intimacy. There were a few tears now and again as they spoke of Master Granger.
Many hugs and touches were exchanged. They were consoling, loving, affectionate and grieving. It was as if a large extended family had returned to share the pain of loss.
And then there were the others. People like her, circulating, clutching their glasses of wine, smiling, chatting, making polite conversation, but clearly not friends, or even close acquaintances. Not part of the circle.
Laura was fascinated by it, even as she envied Adam his place in the middle of it.
“Interesting lot, aren’t they?”
A brash voice interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to see a large man standing beside her, stroking his beard in an effort to look scholarly, she supposed.
“Yes, quite.”
“Of course, my slave is in there. I let her mingle with her friends for a while. After all, got to be a caring Master about all this.”
His arrogance was only matched by his ignorance, thought Laura. Poor slave, whoever she was.
“But you can bet she’ll be wanting my leash back on before too long. Who’s your slave?”
Laura considered the question, amused that he’d assumed she was a Domme. “Have you been with your slave long?” she asked, ignoring his question.
“Oh yes, six months or so now. She’s properly trained, I can tell you. Loves the crop, does my gal.”
The combination of superiority and pseudo-Englishman attitude was beginning to grate on Laura’s nerves.
“Cyril, Jennifer is awaiting you,” came a voice from behind Laura.
“Oh...er...very well. Good...thank you...” the big man stuttered and deflated before Laura’s eyes. He nodded at her and scurried off, leaving Fay to take his place beside Laura.
She smiled. “Obnoxious son-of-a-bitch, isn’t he?”
Laura chuckled. “Yes. I can’t imagine what his slave’s life must be like.”
“Oh he doesn’t have a slave.” Fay’s smile grew. “He is a slave.”
Laura’s eyes widened as she watched Fay bravely try to suppress her laughter. It was too much. They both gave way and enjoyed the humor of the situation. “Oh lord,” gasped Laura. “I should have known.”
“Nah,” chuckled Fay. “How could you? You’re nobody’s slave. Not even Adam’s.”
Laura stilled. Perhaps this was not the time for diplomacy, political correctness or any kind of pretense.
She looked into Fay’s blue eyes and read many emotions there. “Do you still love him?”
The response was unforced, prompt and honest. “How could I not?”
It wasn’t the answer Laura was expecting. But she held her tongue, feeling that there was more to come. She was right.
“He was my trainer, Laura. That is a special position for a man to hold in a slave’s life. Through Adam I learned to give freely, and that what I gave would come back to me in love, in caring, in protection, for all my life. I will never be able to find the words to tell you how I feel about the man who gave me all that. It’s love and so much more. But...” she tugged on her lower lip, “it’s not the sort of love you’re talking about.”
It was Laura’s turn to let her eyes silently ask Fay for an explanation.
The birds sang and the conversations continued around the two women who found themselves locked into a space all their own.
“Has Adam become your Master, Laura?”
“No. We’ve not...we’ve never...it was only recently I learned of Adam’s interest in all this...” Laura struggled to find the words.
Fay thought for a moment. “And now you know, how do you feel?”
How did she feel? God, how long did they have? Confused, scared, puzzled, all these words flew through her mind, but only one came out. “Intrigued.”
Fay smiled. “Good. When Adam met you, he gave you his heart. He chose not to share this with you, because I think he was scared he’d lose you. He’s given up so much for you, Laura. Think about it. A Dom, someone who could be a Master, and he lets it all go for love of one woman. You.”
Laura nodded, trying to grasp the magnitude of what Adam had done, the changes he’d made. All for her. “I’m feeling rather humbled by it.”
“As you should,” smiled Fay. “But you’re here now. It’s been, what, five
years or so?”
Laura nodded. “More.”
“So you know you can trust Adam. That you love Adam.”
“More than my life, Fay. He’s my other half.” And that was the absolute truth.
“Then perhaps it’s time to let the relationship grow. Time to let Adam reclaim some of what he once was. And time to find out what you can be. That’s the kind of love that Adam deserves. I could never have given him that. I’m not strong enough.”
Fay raised her hand and stroked Laura’s cheek, letting her hand sift through the hair stirring in the late afternoon breeze.
“Laura, I watched you today. I saw the comfort and ease with which you handled this crowd. You’re obviously at home in groups, able to chat on many different levels with different people. You’re a professional woman, quite in control of her emotions. But then you look at Adam. And there’s something in your eyes...”
She leaned over and dropped the lightest of kisses on Laura’s cheek. “Something that makes me believe I’ll be calling you ‘sister’ before long. Open your heart, Laura. Let that hidden part of Adam come inside you and discover what pleasure can really be between two people.”
Fay smiled and pulled back, leaving Laura to sort through her muddled thoughts.
She shivered and realized that she’d been alone on the patio for some time and the sun was beginning to set. Someone had lit the candles inside and their glow encouraged her back inside. Adam met her at the door.
“Sweetheart, you’re chilled. Come get a cup of something warm. I’m sorry I neglected you, it’s hard not to get involved in some long conversations...”
“Adam, please,” she put her hand on his arm, and felt the absurd desire to lower her eyes respectfully. “It’s no problem. You have many people to talk to here. I understand.”
And she realized suddenly that she did. In this environment, Adam was something new, something dynamic. Not the warm, caring teacher, nor the loving husband, but the vibrant and—yes—dominant Adam Burns. His head was high, his back straight, and he carried himself slightly differently. He accepted the lowered glances and respectful greetings naturally, and without affectation, as if they were his due.