A Kink in Her Tails (11 page)

“Mmmm,” she muttered.

Ever true to her nature, Laura was sound asleep.

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 the group, 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 forever. 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.” 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 Laura’s 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 and velvet fist. 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.”

* * * * *

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 reflected 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 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.”

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 inside, 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 motorcycle gangs or leather lovers.