I bent down, stuck my key in the lock and released her chain from the floor.

"Put your mask on, I don't want you knowing too much about my place."

I couldn't resist playing the showman a little longer. I led her along until I stopped with her standing in the middle of the living room. I cuffed her hands behind her back. I took up the slack on the chain and fixed it to a chair.

"I have a plan," I said. "I have to make some calls. You need to think what you want to say to your husband. If this is going to work he has to know." I walked out of the room. Ten minutes ought to do it I thought. Ten more minutes.

When I came back she was standing exactly as I'd left her. It was hard to tell if she'd been crying again because the mask obscured her face.

"It's like this," I said. "If I can convince the right people that you didn't consent then I think I can twist them into giving me my money back. If necessary I'll tell them I'm under cover with the cops. They know that they were breaking the law when they sold you. Really, I’d love to keep you, but only if you want to stay.”

Okay, that was wicked, I know, but I couldn’t resist the temptation.

“You wanted to be a slave," I said. "Now’s your chance; you can stay with me and spend your life as a real slave, collared and chained and doing as you're told or... or you tell your husband everything. It's too late to get him on the phone now so I'll record you confessing and I’ll send him the video. Which is it to be?”

I was holding my breath. I reached down and fingered her pussy. Soaking. I really had no idea which way she would go. I ran my finger deeper and took a breast in my other hand.

“Slave or wife?” I said. I could feel her pussy gushing. Which ever way this went I knew I had a much more exciting woman for keeps.

“Wife,” said so softly I almost missed it.

“Say again,” I said.

“Wife,” louder this time, more solid, back straightening, turning towards my voice. “Sorry, it’s tempting and you're being good to me, more than I deserve, but I need my family.”

“Okay," I said, taking my hands away and stepping back, “We're recording.” Of course, we were already recording.

She stood still for a second, took a deep breath and started.

"Adrian, darling, this must be a terrible surprise, seeing me like this. It is me, Ellen, under this mask."

She held up her hand showing her rings.

"See," she said. You know these rings. I did another event with Guy while you were away and it went horribly wrong. I've been a complete fool. I had a fantasy about being a sex slave."

She stopped for a second, breathing deeply, swallowed a couple of times and took another deep breath.

"I... I was ashamed of how it turned me on but I couldn't get it out of my mind. I let Guy arrange things through the theatre people he knows for me to be a slave for the evening. I thought it was all make-believe but he made it very realistic. The first time was so good and you were so brilliant afterwards that I did it again without telling you. I should have told you but I was so ashamed about feeling guilty and excited. I couldn't tell you. I should have. Last night I was actually sold as a slave... in an auction for a lot of money. They didn't tell me this would happen. I never consented, but I did go there with Guy so I can't say it wasn't my fault."

She stopped again, taking more deep breaths. "I don't know what is going to happen. I'm very scared. I want you to rescue me, but I don't know how and I don't know if you'll want to when you see this. If they want too much money, if you can't get me back then please try to forget me. I've been so foolish but I love you with all my heart. I'll never forget you. Please believe I never meant this to happen. If you can't rescue me please make up a story that will convince the kids, I don't want them to remember me like this."

"That'll do," I said. "How do you feel?"

"Sick," she said.

"You need to lie down? Need a bowl for throw up in?"

"Sick in my heart," she said, "and bone weary."

"It's adrenaline. You've been through a lot."

"Why are you being so kind?"

I pulled her close to me, relying on the extra height I'd given myself as well as the strange cologne to fool her. I let her feel my stubble. It was good to hold her and I hoped it helped a little to make her feel she was in the hands of someone with some humanity. After what she said about the kids I had to give her some comfort.

"I have reasons," I said as I let her go. The question in my mind was whether to stop now or play it on until the morning. Part of me, a lot of me wanted to hug her, take her to bed and cuddle her. I wanted to own up, get the whole thing over with but another thought was creeping into my mind. When she knew, would she be mad at me? Could I have made things worse? Did she need to sleep on it to really embed what I hoped she was learning?

"You need sleep?" I said.

"Don't you want to... you know... use me."

I laughed. "After Angus fucking you? You leaking still. Sloppy seconds not for me." I laughed. "He stretch you good? That man has big cock."

I stroked her back, ran my hands over her bum and squeezed. "Other place maybe? Husband take you here?"

"No," she said. "He never asked.

"Maybe you should," I said. "He might that want now."

"Why?"

"Slaves do everything. No limits for slave."

"Oh," she said, her voice going dull and flat. That answered another question; talking about anal didn't get her excited but I noticed that when my finger touched the place I felt her shiver.

She was so obviously lost inside herself I thought I could risk easing up the fake accent.

"More enthusiasm would be good. You said being a slave was your fantasy. Husband knows that now, or he will when he sees your video. Promise me you'll do that for him. If he pays a fortune to get you back he'll need to know that he can have everything a slave could give."

I ran a hand over her bum again, letting one finger run through the crack, touching everything on the way. I felt her shudder again.

"I'm gonna put you back in the dungeon now and let you sleep. Tomorrow will be an interesting day for you."

I heard her catch her breath again.

"You'll have a new life tomorrow. Either you're a slave for me or you get hubby back but he'll know all your secrets. Nothing is the same for you. You'll need your strength, you need some sleep."

I led her back to the dungeon, chained her in place on the bunk and gave her a couple of blankets. Once I'd locked the door I sat in the living room and had another glass of the best I had. Everything was on tape, her whole admission. By morning she'd know that I knew everything. Mission accomplished; all I had to do now was put our lives back together.

I sat in the living room for five minutes before I realised I was shaking. Where did I find the nerve to do this? I sat staring at Ellen on the screen. I ought to be pissed off with her, angry, hurt, but somehow all I could think of was getting to the end of this with us both in one piece.

Ten minutes later I took myself to bed but I set the TV in the bedroom to give a continuous feed from the dungeon, with sound and the volume high so that if Ellen made any noise there was a good chance I'd wake. I don't know how long it took me to get to sleep but I woke with the alarm at four thirty. I glanced at the monitor and Ellen was still in the land of nod. Time to make breakfast.

I made porridge with a dash of salt for Ellen. The only question now was whether to bundle Ellen into the car, drive her around for a while to confuse her and then bring her home, or to manage the denouement right here. After a couple of minutes, I decided to go for the full-blown admission on my part. I could hardly object to Ellen having secrets if I did the same.

I checked on the camera, she was still wearing the mask. I opened the door and stood waiting, until I saw some sign of her waking. When she stirred I reached down to unlock the chain again.

"Time to wake up," I said.

She started to get out of the bed and then hesitated. "I need—"

"To pee?" I said. "There's a pot beside the bed, feel with your hands."

Okay, I know that was cruel but she wanted to play the slave game, she might as well get the whole experience. I waited while she peed. I wondered if Ellen had ever had such a humiliating experience, certainly not one that she'd told me about, though she didn’t tell me about peeing in the bathroom at the hotel with Guy so who knows what else she's done. This was worse I think. It did something, I could see her nipples harden. When she was done I pulled the chain a little to help her up.

"Come with me."

I led her through the living room into the kitchen and made her sit. I separated the cuffs, leaving them on each wrist.

"I have food for you and a surprise," I said. I set the bowl of porridge in front of her, dipped a spoon and fed her a mouthful. Through the fishnet mask, I could make out enough of her face to know that she was puzzled.

"Surprised?" I said.

"Yes."

"Ready to be amazed?"

"What is going on?"

I lifted the mask and sat in my chair next to her watching.

Her face went pale, she slumped back in the chair, grabbed the table to steady herself. It was half a minute before her colour came back and she stopped gasping.

"Adrian?"

"Who did you think it would be?"

"Oh, God." She closed her eyes, swallowed a couple of times and the panicky breathing started again. "How did I get here?” More gasps. “I... I slept in a dungeon... I was in a dungeon. Where is he?"

"Who?"

"The man... Oh, God."

"The man?" I said, feeling wicked because I was starting to enjoy this.

"Adrian, what is happening? Am I really home?"

"Yes love, you're really home."

"Thank God," she said then there was a long pause. "Adrian, love..."

"What?"

"I... I'm sorry... I don't know what's happening... I don't understand."

"I'm not surprised," I said.

"Do you know what's happening?"

"Yes,” I said. "I know exactly what is happening. No secrets from me."

She looked at me as though she was seeing me for the first time, a puzzled frown creeping over her face. I turned around and switched on the TV and then brought up last night's confession. At the start of the tape, the camera was focussed on her masked face but I knew it was going to gradually zoom out, revealing where she was standing.

"You mean this," I said, setting the tape running. Her confession from last night started to play. I let it run until it finished.

She sat looking at the final frame of the film for what seemed like forever.

"That's—“

"Our living room," I said.

"I don't get it. I was led out of a dungeon... was the living room a film set?"

"No," I said. "The dungeon was a film set. Some stagehands that Guy knows built it in my office. Want to see?"

I stood up. "Shall I take the chain off?"

"No don't. Adrian,” she said, hesitating, her face a question in every muscle. “Did you... did you set this up?"

"Guilty as charged. You were never going to tell me, love. I was so scared I was losing you. I had to work it out myself.” I didn’t dare give her time to think. “Come and see." I took the chain and pretty much dragged her out of the chair. I took her through the living room into the hallway and then into what had been my office when she left two days ago. With the stone effect walls, the spartan bed and the pot on the floor it looked exactly the real deal, except when I switched on the bright light you could see the joins.

She stood for a moment looking at it shaking her head. "With this much light it's not too hard to tell that it's fake," I said, "But in dim light and when you're a bit scared I guess it was good enough."

Ellen turned around and pulled me to her, wrapping her arms around me her head almost burying itself in the side of my neck.

"Who was the man last night?"

"What man?"

"The one I confessed to. He's not in the film but he was taller than you and he had a beard."

"Two days growth and heel raises," I said.

She jumped back, wide-eyed, staring at me. "It was you?"

"Come this way," I said. "I have something for you. I led her back into the living room.

"There should really be a drum roll and lights and stuff," I said. "I was going to do this as a special ceremony for our anniversary, but having it a few days early maybe best." I reached across to the coffee table and picked up the book I'd made. "Ellen Preston, This is Your Lies," I said, handing her the leather bound book.

“Don’t you mean; This is your Life?”

“No.”

For the first time this morning she grinned. “It ought to be 'These are your lies'.”

That was good, the real Ellen starting to emerge, she always was a grammar nut.

“No,” I said, “the book, singular, is a collection of your lies; so the title is ‘This is your lies.’”

She started to quickly flip through the pages. Each one she turned over had a different picture of her various escapades on one side and quotations on the other, matching lies against reality, excuse against deed; on each page a version of events as she had told it to me along with the reality of what she’d been actually doing. After the fourth or fifth page, she sat down again, leafing quickly through the whole thing until she stared at the last page for a minute. I may have been holding my breath.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So I had to find out. Did I miss anything? Is there more?”

She sat staring at the floor for another minute.

“Sorry,” she said again. “I’ll tell you everything.” She stopped and her smile widened. “This was your secret?”

“Got it in one.”

I sat down on a chair facing her. "I'm sorry too," I said. "I should have waited until you were ready to tell me but I was spooked by hearing you talk to Guy that night at the hotel."

"What did I say?"

"Page three," I said, pointing at the book.

Guy—"What a fool, I mean what is the point in bugging the place and then telling us?"

Ellen— "Don't mock him. He's scared you'll take me away from him."

Guy— "I don't have to take you away, you're already here."

Ellen— "He thinks this is the first time. We have to play this along gently."

Guy— "That’s your problem.”

Ellen— “I couldn’t cope with him knowing. Not yet, not until I’m ready.”

"It made it seem like an affair that had been going on for a while. Guy was rude about me and I thought both of you were playing me. I'd booked the hotel, believed what you'd said until then and when I heard that... my whole world collapsed. The lucky thing was that I was so unsure of all that technology that I'd put in three cameras in case one didn't work. I wanted to play it straight even when I was scared but hearing what you said to Guy stopped me telling you about the other cameras."

I stopped for a second, shrugged a little and gave her what I hope was some sort of rueful smile. "If I'd trusted you from the word go I could have saved myself a lot of pain but it was the pain that made me do it."

"It wasn't your fault love. I wasn't having an affair, I was using Guy."

"Yeah, I figured that out later."

"Can you forgive me?" she said.

"Am I forgiven for this morning?"

"You mean for scaring the hell out of me?" For the first time in an hour, she really smiled. "All you did was made my fantasy real. I should have told you."

"I kind of understand, I think," I said. "But when I made sense of it I was chewed up all over again knowing that you thought I wouldn't be able to cope, or I'd be disgusted or something. Were you ever going to tell me?"

"I think I hoped I could get it out of my system."

"And you didn't think I could help?"

"I got that wrong, didn't I?" She stopped for a moment, held a hand up to stop me talking and then reached out to take both of my hands. I let her think.

"Last night? Was that real, the competition, the auction?"

"The competition was genuine, like we had no idea who would win. The auction was fake. I felt sorry for Angus, I thought I owed him something so what you did with him was genuine. He seems like a good guy."

"Did you tell him?"

"Sure. I showed him around, let him see our wedding pictures, got him to phone the number you gave him. Maybe we should have him and his wife around for dinner."

"And the dungeon?"

"Some of Guy's theatre friends, they make stage sets. It took them most of yesterday, once Guy picked you up they moved in. Did it fool you?"

"Fool me? It terrified me.” She looked straight at me. “Are you going to keep it like that?"

I hadn’t thought about it. “Would you like that?”

“It’s your office.”

“It’s our house.” I laughed. “Anyway, it’s a theatre set, it’s not permanent. If we want a dungeon we should plan it properly.” I studied her face as I said it. Did she want that? What sort of marriage has a dungeon for the wife? If we had a dungeon would I have to find others like Angus to service her? There were too many variables.

“I'd like to sleep on it a bit more before we do anything drastic," I said.

"You want to go to bed now?” She said. “It’s still very early— I mean both of us? Do you still want me?"

“I don’t know if I can risk it.”

“Risk what?”

“The humiliation.”

“The what?”

“After Angus, if I try to fuck you I doubt if you’ll even feel me.”

“No,” she said. “No, it’s not supposed to be like that. No please.”

"Let's just go to bed, our bed, it's still only five in the morning."

“I don’t want to lose the vibe.”

“You won’t,” I said grabbing the chain and leading her upstairs. I took her into the bedroom threw a couple of towels on the floor and chained her to the bed leg.

“This is how you like it, right?”

“You saw?”

I stood over her as she lay on the floor. “I actually have some of the hotel scenes in 3D. I thought we might have a film show tomorrow.”

“Were you turned on watching it or horrified?”

There was no way I could give a sensible answer to that— one day maybe— one day I'll have to get all that straight in my head, sort out the mess of jealousy, angst and intellect that passes for the brain in my head. One day— not now.

“You’re supposed to be a slave. Speak when you’re spoken to. I’ll wake you when I want to use you. If you have any sense you’ll get some sleep.”

I’d never spoken like that, especially not to Ellen but if I was going to make our future work I had to be able to get into it at least some of the time. I set the silent alarm on my watch for seven and buried myself under the duvet. As I dropped off to sleep I told myself over and over that I was going to wake up hard and reclaim Ellie.

My wrist buzzed me dead on time. I rolled onto my back and with some trepidation ran my hand down to my groin. It’s strange how some days I’ll wake up and I know it’s there but when it really matters... the suspense is awful, but it was there. I rolled out of bed with extreme care, the last thing I wanted to do was crush my cock and spoil it.

Ellen was mostly on her back but with one leg crossed over. I knelt beside her and very gently took her right nipple in my mouth. I let the warmth of my mouth have an effect while my tongue gently tried to stir up some reaction. Her breathing was steady for the next minute as I tried to find my way into her dreams.

When the bud between my lips began to harden Ellie stirred. A quiet sigh escaped her lips and she rolled her hips flat on the floor so that her legs began to part. I risked a hand on her pussy and started to ease her open, thinking she was bound to wake.

The lock fixing her chain to the bed leg was fixed with a combination, not a key. Setting it to open with one hand was possible but not easy. Operating a key one handed would have been worse. Try it and you’ll see, but working a pussy to open up with one hand and getting a combination padlock to open with the other hand is seriously demanding. One thing for sure, there was no way I could arouse a nipple and do those things with my hand. I settled for the next best thing, watching Ellie’s face.

Her eyes stayed closed but there was a hint of a smile starting to appear— maybe she was still dreaming but more likely she was awake and waiting. What to do? that was the question. My instinct was to ask her but that would never be the way a slave would expect to be treated. I had to be masterful and it had to be right first time.

The floor was hard, despite the towels and I knew it was going to hurt my knees. Maybe she was right to take this fantasy somewhere else, maybe I wasn’t up to it, maybe I was too nice, but if I couldn’t make it work right now I felt as if my world would never be the same again.

For a second I found some anger— Ellen was being passive aggressive, expecting me to make all the moves, expecting me to hurt my knees and expecting to judge my performance, so she could decide what sort of marriage we were going to have. Fuck it, slaves are not supposed to top from the bottom— except that’s exactly what pretend slaves, fantasy slaves, do. Real slaves have a terrible time, real slaves don’t do it for fun.

For a second then I got mad, Ellen's game might turn her on but it was an insult to the suffering of real slaves. I hung onto that anger for long enough to get my cock into the right place and slam it in as hard as I could. That’s when her eyes opened.

“Oh yes,” she said. I kept going as hard as I could, determined to think about nothing except me getting off. I'd been dreaming about this all night but making myself be totally assertive and trying to ignore Ellie completely was more than I could do. I guess I ended up with at least a decent fake. I came and any other day I would have been thinking about Ellen, making sure that she came, but this time I let myself go, collapsed on top of her and did nothing for two minutes.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you, master." I couldn't tell whether that second thank you with the add-on was her mocking me, or elevating me to some new status or Ellen remembering that she was supposed to say that. All I could think about now that the anger had gone, had been deposited inside her, was that my knees hurt. I rolled off, knelt beside her and scooped her up to put her in the bed. I squeezed up alongside her and wrapped the duvet over both of us.

Because I lifted her into bed in my arms we ended up in a classic spooning pose, Ellie's back against my front. Seconds later she had rolled over and was all over my face kissing me. I was out of breath, I'd been working hard and I couldn't breathe fast enough through my nose. If she kept it up there was a real chance I might pass out.

"Ellen," I said, pulling back enough to get a word out. "I gotta breathe."

Things calmed down gradually and we dozed off. I was woken by her sucking my cock from under the bedclothes. I let that go for a minute for the sheer joy of it before I dragged her out from under the duvet.

"Hon, we have to get up soon."

“I told your mum I'd collect the kids after school. We have all day," she said.

"Well yeah, kind of, but the theatre guys will be here this morning to take the set down."

That reduced her to fits of giggles. "Shouldn't I be down there chained up?"

"No way," I said. I'm not letting them cart you off in their van."

"Might be fun."

"Their truck is a pick-up. You want to be chained up naked in the back? In the open air, riding through the traffic?" I chuckled and then the obvious hit me. "Oh fuck, maybe you would like that... No. I'm keeping you chained up here."

The guys arrived mid-morning but they didn’t need us so our conversation continued.

“If you were so anxious and you had no idea what I was doing— why did you let me?”  

That threw me. I was expecting a confession not an interrogation. I almost spat something aggressive back but managed to take a breath.

“It wasn’t easy,” I said. “but I thought I had to. That Richard Bach quote kept coming into my head; ‘If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they're yours; if they don’t then they never were’. "I don’t know if it’s true, but it sounds good and once it was in my head I started to feel like I would be some sort of heel if I didn’t let you do whatever you wanted to do.”

I stopped for a second. “What it doesn’t say is how hard it is to do.”

“I didn’t think... Well, I did think, I thought if I said I loved you and I wasn’t going to leave you then there was nothing to worry about... "

She looked at the floor for a second or two.

“Dumb, huh?”

“No, not dumb at all, it’s probably what I would have thought if it was the other way around. There’s no way of knowing until you try. We tried and it turns out I’m completely insecure.”

“Don’t say that.”

“That’s how I felt, but that’s not the point. How come you could tell Guy what you wanted and you couldn’t tell me?”

“Guy was a sort of lucky accident, I met him at the kids' school— remember that play when I made some of the costumes? Well, Guy was dragged in because he knows about theatre. We got chatting.”

“And you happened to mention that you’d always wanted to be a sex slave?”

“It took a lot more than that." She let out a nervous snort, somewhere between a chuckle and a giggle. “I asked about the theatre." She stopped for a second. "Do you know about the theatre?"

"The one where they do blow job competitions and slave auctions?"

"I don’t remember exactly what I said but I saw that he was shy about it, which was good because we could be embarrassed together. It went from there.”

“That play was last year.”

“Mmmm,”

“So this thing with Guy had been going on what?  Half a year? Longer than that?”

“Yeah.”

"Did he try to seduce you?"

"No, nothing like that, we talked, that was all."

“I saw you suck him...”

“At the hotel was the first time with him. I still had my collar on, still in the role, I wanted to stick with it... I know it sounds stupid but I was so into it.”

There was something about the way that she said it, a hesitation and for a moment we lost eye contact.

“Who else?”

“How did you guess?”

“I’m getting better at reading you.”

“I went to some of their adult entertainments—“

“And you couldn’t help joining in?”

“Mmmm. Only a few times, just evenings, I forget what excuse I used.”

“Girls night out?”

“Yeah— which was sort of true.”

“So what exactly did you do?”

“What you might expect... to begin with, I stripped and sucked when other girls did the same..."

"And then...?"

"I wore a collar..."

"And that made you feel different?"

"It does something, flips a switch somewhere... the worst was fluffing for a gang bang.”

“Go on.”

“I was collared and naked all evening and I was led from man to man, getting them hard and ready. That was the night with Guy at the hotel.”

“Did you wish you were the main attraction?”

“Maybe... well a bit, but that’s different, I’m not sure. The main attraction as you call her has a lot of power, she can say no, say when she’s had enough, but I was naked, on a leash, powerless, on my knees the whole time— there’s a big difference.”

"Would you want to be gang banged?"

"I don't know. Talking about these things gets me wet and I become a nervous embarrassed wreck. That's why I didn't tell you, well partly why."

"You mean owning up, admitting to these things is hard?'

"Mmmm."

"Because they're deeply buried?"

"Because they're disgusting."

"A lot of people seem to like them."

She hesitated. "What do you think?" she said.

"Feel or think?"

"Ah, being intellectual now?"

"Yes," I said. "I have three things fighting in my brain. I felt jealous and scared I could lose you. One good thing coming out of this is I know how much that matter to me now.'

"You were never going to lose me."

"I know you say that, but that's not how it felt, like standing on a slippery slope. What's worse is that the only way I could be sure you'd come back was to let you go. That's the first thing." I stopped for breath and held my hand up to stop her saying anything.

"Keep that in your head while I get the next part out. This isn't easy. Don't take it as a criticism, just let me put it out there. Right?"

"Go on," she said. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and then opened them. "Go on, I won't try to hide."

"The penny only dropped about the slave thing after I saw you eating breakfast off the floor. By the way where the hell did you get that idea?"

Ellen really laughed for the first time that morning.

"Clearing up the kids half eaten breakfast and playing audio stories about sex slaves at the same time. On days when you took the kids to school and I was alone in the house afterwards."

"Let me guess; naked housework was involved."

"Naked, collared, ankle and wrist cuffs— pity you didn't come home and catch me out..."

"Yeah, maybe," I said. "Doing the way we did gave me too much time to think." I stopped for a second. "Are we okay? I mean can I ask another tricky question?"

"Think of me as your slave. While I'm collared I have no choice, I have to answer or I get whipped or something. Right?"

Oh shit, I thought, could I do that? Does she actually want that? Best not to think about it. Keep going. Don't lose focus.

"Did you consider the ethics?" I said.

"The what?"

"Playing at being a sex slave is a sort of insult to all the women who really are enslaved and trafficked. Some of the things that happen to them for real are terrible. I'm not sure it's right to use it as a game. I don't want to sound like a prude and I don't think you're seeing it that way, but the possibility of being dragged into that horror may subconsciously be what gives you the buzz. The vulnerability, all that.”

She started to speak but I stopped her. "Wait— one more thing. There's another part of my head that says... this is a game, you love her, she wants to do it, don't spoil it, think about the best way to make it work and keep her safe. All that was going on in my head at once. Does that make any sense?"

Ellen sat looking at me for what seemed like an age. Eyes wide open, her lips slightly parted, her whole face a patchwork of shock, horror, surprise and understanding all at once.

"Oh God," she said eventually. "I put you through all that... you suffered all that for me— I never imagined."

"So go on," I said. "Tell me about it. I think I've earned that."

"It was the stories," she said. "I came across them almost by accident. Then there was what Guy said about the adult nights, I hunted around the web and came across stories. It turned me on, it awoke something inside of me; like you said the combination of sex and jeopardy and helplessness. I talked to Guy some more and one thing led to another. I was excited and ashamed. I couldn't talk to you. I wished I could but... well you know what happened."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you were too nice, too reasonable, too good to me; that's why I love you but I couldn't imagine that you'd love me if you knew I had thoughts like that." She stopped for a second and I could see that she was fighting back tears. "Actually I don't know why you haven't thrown me out already."

"I haven't thrown you out because I love you. Acting out fantasies is nothing unusual even if the actual fantasy is."

Gee, I thought, I sound like a preacher. I almost stopped but I knew I had to keep going.

"Some people like to climb mountains, or swim naked in rivers, you name it, there are a thousand dangerous fantasies out there. You wanted to be used and exploited, you didn't want to do that to someone else. I would have had a problem if you wanted to enslave other people. You weren't completely crazy, you had Guy looking after you and I knew where you were, at least some of the time."

"But not enough. By being secretive I forced you to find out that I'd been lying."

This could go round and round I thought. Time to blow it wide open before we had to get back to real life and collect the kids. Once they were home we'd have to play at being grown-ups and anyway I'd have to get back to work.

"Can I make a proposal?"

"Will I like it?"

"Some of it, I think— maybe— I hope."

That kind of sobered her a little. She nodded.

"I enjoyed bugging you and making interesting movies. I discovered things about myself that I never knew. I think some of those need to be explored. I think I'd like to make more movies like that. Unless I've shocked you so much that it's all out of your system.

"I don't know," she said. but tell me anyway. I'm still a slave for now."

"Two conditions."

"Go on."

"First, you won't know what is going to happen— as if you were a real slave, a bit like last night. Second, we sell the movies and some of the money, a big part of the profit goes to support women's refuges, action against trafficking, and all that sort of stuff. We probably won't make much out of it— there's so much free stuff out there but people might get off watching these movies and there's a risk that it could encourage bad behaviour, so I want the profit to go to push the other way. Like I said before, making a game out of slavery is a sort of insult to real slaves, so I want to pay something back."

"Wow."

"Second condition is you won't know the script. Like last night, and I'll make it as real as I can so you won't have to act too much. You'll have to trust me. Actually selling you is illegal. I want you to sign a  contract that would let me rent you out for who knows how long to whoever; you won't know. You won't know how scary they might be, you won't know what's going to be done to you. The only thing you'll be able to rely on is whether you trust me."

“Really rent or pretend rent?”

“I decide.”

“I think pimping is illegal too.”

“I’m to be your agent, all movie stars have an agent.”

"Or a manager. So you won’t tell me anything— I'll be like you were the last few months, not knowing if you'd lost me, not knowing if I'd come back, having to trust me even when you knew I was lying."

"Yeah, like that, and having to do whatever you were told, for as long as... well, for as long as." I waited a while for a reply, keeping quiet, letting it soak in.

"These movies," she said. Would I be recognisable?"

"It's up to us. I'd prefer it for you not to be recognisable, unless that's an essential part of the fantasy. You could wear a mask like yesterday, and that does make you look incredibly sexy. The blindfold isn't essential. We could dye your hair, have temporary tattoos, all that stuff."

"I wouldn't want the kids to find a film of me. I know they're young but in a few years they won't be."

"I'll keep you safe," I said, "and I'll keep the kids safe from you, but I won't tell you how. Those risks are part of the package. The more you have at risk, the more you have to trust me, the deeper into it you go..."

"Yeah, yeah I get it," she said. "God, I’m tempted; it makes me wet but I should think about it properly shouldn’t I, not get seduced by lust." She pulled me to her and kissed me.

“I should check how the stagehands are getting on,” I said. I was beginning to get an idea.

"Collar me naked again," she said.

"You want them to see you?"

"No," she said. "Collar me and chain me up in the wardrobe or the airing cupboard or somewhere, anywhere. I want to be able to think. Put me away as if I was a slave and then supervise those guys sorting out your office."

I looked at the clock, there were still hours until we had to collect the kids, so she could have a decent spell of solitary. Less fun for me, but it would give both of us time to think. Several hours confined in the wardrobe seemed like a bad idea to me so I went for the airing cupboard— ours is more like a room. It was warm and there was plenty of spare bedding. I couldn’t lock the door but I could chain Ellen to a shelf low down at the back. From there she couldn’t do herself any harm and couldn’t reach the door.

After that I watched the stagehands, as Ellen called them, dismantling my fake dungeon.

“What will you do with the boards?”

“Chuck them away.”

“Could you stack them in the garage instead?” I said.

“Sure, no problem.”

I watched them take the boards off, trying to memorise how they were fixed; an idea was beginning to get into my head. We have an old summerhouse, actually, I think it was a cowshed once, on the rear side of the house. Old farm buildings can be whatever you want to call them. It has an open front so it was great for barbecues but there was an upstairs too; empty and dusty now but it had possibilities. A loft might be an odd place for a dungeon but it sure as hell could look like one. Something to think about.

Once the fake dungeon was off the office walls there was half an hour’s work with filer before the men left. I gave them a couple of bottles of wine along with a cheque and then set about the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later I led my slave to a warm bath full of fragrant oils, lit by scented candles.

“This isn’t how slaves get treated.”

“No, this is for courtesans.”

I thought for a moment that she might object but when I took her collar off she sank into the water and smiled.

"I'd like to take you up on your offer," she said. "I think you should make me a contract."

"Okay. I can do that.”

"Love there's one other thing."

"Go on."

"Last night— did you watch?"

"I had to, I was keeping you safe, remember?"

"So you saw Angus fucking me?"

"Yes."

"How did it make you feel?"

How did it make me feel? The question stopped me dead. "I, um... this sounds stupid...I don't know. I was watching to be sure you were safe. That was all I thought about."

"So not a turn on, not cuckold voyeur thoughts?"

"I did think it would be sexy to watch the film with you."

"Oh yeah," with a throaty chuckle. "but was I safe?"

"I thought you were, Angus seemed a decent man and you asked him to fuck you."

"Did you know what he was like?"

"I quizzed him a bit in the car driving over and told him he had to keep you safe and I told him I was recording everything."

"Ah," she said, "clever you. Good. You do realise that was the first time anyone else fucked me since we got married?"

"I thought Guy—"

"No," she said. "I didn't let him and he didn't want to. I did a lot of sucking," she giggled. "An awful lot of sucking and other disgusting stuff but no fucking."

She faced me head on. "How does that make you feel? The only time I've been unfaithful was when you gave me away?"

I must have looked confused or dismayed or something. All the video I'd seen flashed through my mind. They never fucked, she was right, I had made her unfaithful; I’d cuckolded myself. She could see I was dumbstruck.

“Don’t fret love, you were making me learn a lesson.”

“Sorry... I...”

“Don’t be sorry. Don’t go regretting it either. I let Angus fuck me because I thought it might help me escape. A week ago I’d never have dreamed of doing anything like that. When it came down to a choice of fucking this total stranger with a huge cock or never seeing you again, I went for it without a second thought. Doesn’t that make you happy knowing I'd take a cock that big just to get back to you.”

I think I laughed and cried at the same time.

“Okay, that’s settled," she said. "I’ll fuck anyone you chose, so long as we stay together and I have no choice.”

“Only when the game is on.”

“If you say so.”

“No love, we are equal partners outside your game.”

“Yeah you’re right, I know, but I thought we were still in the game.”

“The game ended when I took your collar off and you stepped into the bath. I'll put some other rules in the contract; staying safe— no babies, no diseases, oh and at least a week or two's break after every game. We need time to recover and let our heads settle down. We'll be talking about this for a few weeks yet.'

"Mmmmm," she said. "Scratching the itch, venting. That's okay, that's good. If I start to clam up or you think I'm holding back collar me."

"Deal," I said. "Once you get out of that bath you stop calling me master and we go back to being boring monogamous parents."

"No, you said the game ended when the collar came off, when I got in the bath."

"It did. We're into the venting as you called it."

She giggled. "This is fun. I do love you. So... I'm curious... how did you find the nerve, the bottle to do all that stuff?"

"I had to, it's like you said about fucking Angus. I had to break through whatever was stopping you talking to me and get back to us being us."

I watched an expression wash over her face that I hadn't seen for a while. In that second I knew I'd seen it before but I couldn't place it.

"Can I stay in the tub a bit longer?"

"You mean will I collect the kids?"

"Mmmm,” she said and slid under the water, submerging completely. Seconds later she burst back through the bubbles. “I love you so much.”

She threw her head back, beaming up at me. I gazed at her in awe and then I remembered that look.

“What?”

“You look like you did that Sunday afternoon after Jenny was born, sitting up in bed with her after you breastfed her the first time. Fulfilled, brimming over.”

“Mmmmmm,” she said with a long contented sigh. “Oh, and that reminds me, can you get some milk on the way home?"

-the end-

I thought that the resumption of domesticity was a good place to stop, but I am open to persuasion— exactly what might Adrian dream up and how would Ellen feel when she can’t top from the bottom. How can all that work in a life with two young kids and though it’s not been mentioned thus far, they both have jobs? What about Ellen's point of view?

Comments would be welcome.