Mike pulled into the garage and triggered the roll-up door closed. He disengaged from his still sleeping wife, noting his side and arm were wet where she had been leaning. She had roused as he got out and was struggling to do the same on her side. He helped her out and up to their bedroom, depositing her on the bed. He ran her a hot bath, stripped the clothes off her and deposited her in the tub, which caused her to gasp and cry out. Mike returned several minutes later with two large glasses of Cab Franc, handing her one, then seating himself next to her on our Ikea bathroom chair.
He closed his eyes, composed his thoughts, and asked, “How was it?”
Sandy turned her face to him, Bert’s slap vivid on her face, her ear badly swollen. She said shamefacedly, “The sex was violent. The men treated me like a paid whore, very rough. You already know that, though. You’ve seen the results plainly on my body. I revelled in every minute of it until I was sated, then things got out of control and I had to trigger the safety plan.”
“Thank god you did,” he said, shaking his head. “One of those men hit you hard enough to leave a huge welt on your face, and a cauliflower ear. You let things go too far, Sandy. Not only that, now you’re so tired and sore I can’t reclaim you.”
“This is serious shit Sandy, 3 aspects of our agreement have gone up in smoke. Your safety has been compromised, you’ve lost my trust, and reclaiming you is out of the question. I can’t condone you continuing on this reckless path you’re on.”
Sandy slumped in the tub. “I’ve really fucked up, haven’t I? You can’t be blamed for feeling this way. I was lost in the moment and nothing else mattered. I had come out of the lust state and was ready to leave. That’s when Bert told me I wasn’t done.”
“I thought I could brazen my way out of the situation. He saw me leaving and started dragging me back into the living room. That’s when I knew I had to press the panic button.”
It was as bad as I first thought. “Sandy, if you had been unable to press the panic button, there is every likelihood Bert would have beaten you. I would not have known your predicament, so would not have considered breaking in until 12:30, or even later. By that time, you could have been very badly injured. This was my worst nightmare and the reason I drafted all the safety rules.”
Sandy looked dejected and remorseful. “So I guess it’s over then. I don’t see a way for us to make this work for me. Thank you, for being there for me through this, for the infinite amount of patience you have shown me. I need to find my way back to the way I was, and I believe I will need your help to do that too.”
“I love you with all my heart, Sandy,” I said. “There was never any question of me being there for you. I will help as you need it, but I’m afraid going back may not be in the cards. The veritable genie is well and truly out of the bottle, so much so, we may not get it back in. I’m alluding to your imagery of the pressure cooker needing the top taken off for relief. What would have happened if we had not taken the top off? Where would we be right now?”
Now Sandy looked frightened. She downed the rest of her wine and held her hand out to be helped out of the tub. I helped dry her off and applied numbing cream to her face and ear, and the worst of the other bruises. She was shivering, so I walked her back into the bedroom and tucked her into bed. Having closed up the rest of the house, I returned to find her asleep, but when I climbed in, she roused. Sleepily, she moved next to me and put her arm and leg over me.
Next morning I was in the kitchen getting breakfast ready when I heard her shuffling down the hall. I grabbed two Extra Strength Tylenol and set them next to her breakfast plate and coffee. She smiled gratefully and downed them right away. We ate a quiet breakfast, Sandy eating soft foods because of the pain in her jaw. Then she got showered and changed into lounge-wear, spending the rest of the day on the deck chaise.
Showering after her, I got into my scrubby clothes and cleaned up most of the yard and maintenance chores which had accumulated. I took lunch out to Sandy halfway through the day, and was hopeful of her recovery when I saw her getting supper ready around 5. I got myself cleaned up and went in to help her.
Supper was subdued, but we were more relaxed after we had watched a couple of our favourite comedies before heading back to bed. Sunday went much the same as Saturday, with Sandy exhibiting a little more life. She even went so far as a hike through the neighbouring woods with me, albeit at a measured pace. She was able to chew a little better as the pain meds managed the ache in her jaw.
We got through the work week without any problems. Sandy had covered up any visible marks with ample makeup to preclude any embarrassing questions. I wrestled with the problem of meeting Sandy’s sexual needs but keeping her safe at the same time. Every scenario I came up with left her vulnerable in some way. I was getting desperate to come up with a plan before she started getting antsy again, forcing me to overrule her by making her stay home.
A chance meeting in the parking lot with one of my work colleagues on Thursday provided me with a clue to my dilemma. Carl and I were walking out to our vehicles when he called over to ask me if I was interested in going to a stag for our intern. He winked and said they had a stripper lined up. I begged off with an excuse and thanked him for the offer.
His words kept coming back to me on the way home, teasing a shadow of a thought in the back of my mind. I was home before Sandy, getting started on the mundane chore of preparing supper, when it hit me in full force. I recalled a newspaper article about an innocuous nightclub in an industrial area just outside of Kingston. The two memories clicked together, and I thought I had the answer to our problem. After some extensive research into the club and its owners, I resolved to take the afternoon off the next day.
Friday afternoon saw me driving into the industrial estate in search of ‘The Glass Slipper.’ Fortunately, my map program knew where it was and led me into a secluded cul-de-sac behind a couple of large warehouses. I drove around the building, noting a number of vehicles out the back, then parked out front.
The front door was open, so I walked in, pausing to let me eyes adjust to the dimly lit interior. There was that unmistakable ‘bar’ smell common to these establishments, but as I checked the place out I could see it was very well-kept. I approached a couple of men sitting in a corner booth talking and asked if I could talk to the owner or manager.
“Who’s asking?” came the guarded query from the bigger of the two men.
“You don’t know me. My name is Mike Fischer. I was hoping to talk to someone about a situation I’m in and a proposal I have.” I extended my hand in greeting.
The man ignored my offered hand, saying, “Why should I have any interest in a proposal from you?”
I stepped back, remarking, “Huh, I assumed you’d be interested in any proposal which would bring more money into your club. Maybe I was wrong. Sorry to bother you.” I started to walk away.
“Wait,” I heard from behind me. “Maybe we got off on the wrong foot here. It’s been a busy day. Why don’t you follow me into my office? My name is Bruno, by the way.”
I followed him down a luxuriously carpeted and well-appointed hallway and followed Bruno into an equally luxurious office. He offered me a seat in a plush leather easy chair and offered me a drink. I asked for Potter Settlement Cab Franc which, to my surprise, he pulled from a nearby wine cooler and poured two glasses. He handed me a glass and seated himself in another easy chair opposite me.
Bruno initiated the conversation. “OK Mike, shoot. Let’s hear what you’ve got.”
I explained Sandy’s situation to Bruno; how her desires for exhibitionism and rough sex overwhelmed her normal common sense and had led her to physical injury during her last ‘outing’. I told him I was looking for a safer outlet for her and, through my substantial inquiries, felt The Glass Slipper would fit the bill.
I looked at Bruno then, and said, “I have it on good authority you have a high security members-only VIP area here. My wife would happily satisfy your members singly, or in groups of any size with no restrictions whatsoever. Disease and violence are the obvious exceptions. She is also a very good dancer who would interact well from the stage with any and all men in the audience.”
I finished my pitch saying, “If you can assure me of her safety I will bring her here tomorrow afternoon around the same time to audition for you. She will dance for you to prove her worth. If she is acceptable, and I’m sure she will be, I will deliver her to your care every other Friday and Saturday night. I will collect her myself at the end of her shifts. Other shifts can be negotiated at time of need. I should emphasize as long as she continues to be safe there will be no interference on my part. What do you say?”
Bruno’s piercing dark eyes scrutinized me from under their heavy lids. “My girls are in secure care the whole time they are under my roof, so you will have no concerns in that regard. Also, as you have alluded to, the members' area is ultra secure, with card-only entry, and two of my best men on the other side of the door all night. Card bearing members are the only ones allowed into the secure area; no guests, no exceptions.”
“We also police members' behaviour to our signed membership standards unwaveringly. I accept your proposal pending my approval of a nude pic of her today, and her successful audition tomorrow. Is that a deal?” This time it was Bruno who offered his hand.
I shook his hand and proffered a photo I had of Sandy. He checked the photo closely, looked up and nodded his head.
“I’ll see you tomorrow with your wife, Mike. I would prefer for her to keep her rings on, if you concur.”
“Agreed,” I said. “I will bring her here tomorrow. I’ll pick her back up once you text me she has completed the audition. It has been a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to a successful, mutually beneficial arrangement.” I left and went home to start preparations for supper in anticipation of Sandy’s arrival.
I heard Sandy’s car arrive home and met her at the door with a warm hug and a passionate kiss. She looked at me closely without disengaging and whispered, “Does this mean I’m forgiven, my love? You’ve been very distant all week, leading me to believe I might have made an unforgivable mistake. Is that bulge in your pants hinting at your answer, I hope?”
I smiled and said, “You are forgiven. it’s partially my fault for not fully understanding the depth of your need. My distancing was out of concern for your future welfare, and how I could mitigate further injury to you. I was afraid I would have to forbid you from another adventure when you became ‘antsy’ next. I think I now have a solution, which we can talk about over a glass of wine after supper.”
We finished supper and cleaned up, then went into the living room with our favourite wine and sat next to each other on the couch.
Sam started us off. “So you have a plan to meet my needs without getting hurt again, is that what I understand?”
“Yes,” I answered, “But I have a few questions I need you to answer first. They are, really, confirmation of what we have already talked, and what I have learned from your behaviour. I need to hear and understand your responses, though. Number one: would you say exhibitionism is a major component of your need? Number two: would you also say having sex with strange men is another major component of your need? Number three: how much does rough sex factor in to satisfying your need? I settled back in the couch to allow her to form her reply.”
After some thought, she turned to face me and said, “To answer your first two questions would be a simple yes. The third is a little more complicated: it involves how I react to certain types of men. I seem to seek out large domineering men with whom I become submissive. I then lose the ability to think for myself, so I revert to acquiescence. This was the case with Bert. If I hadn’t been tired out and came back to myself, I would have stayed until he was finished with me, regardless of physical abuse. Does that answer your questions?”
“Indeed it does,” I said thoughtfully, “As well as reinforcing my opinion, the plan I have could be successful. To clarify, though, if when you get ‘antsy’ you are not exposed to the type of men to whom you become submissive, will the first two factors satisfy your need?”
Sandy tilted her head slightly while she considered, then said, “Yes, I believe it would.”
I was relieved. It would appear I had a solution to satisfy her need and keep her safe at the same time. It would also not require my presence during her adventure.
I said, “Tomorrow I will take you to a place called The Glass Slipper in Kingston. You have an audition there with the owner, Bruno, to determine your suitability. If you pass the audition, you will have two shifts there every other weekend on Friday and Saturday nights. He will advise you of your duties and also ensure your complete safety. I am confident this will fulfill your needs.”
I continued, saying, “When we arrive tomorrow I will introduce you to Bruno, then I’ll wait in the car for him to let me know you’ve finished your audition. At that point, I will come in to collect you. Ongoing, I will drive you to your shift, transfer you to Bruno’s care, then wait for him to let me know you are finished your shift. He will escort you, or have you escorted, out to be transferred back to me.”
Sandy looked skeptical and a little confused. She asked, “This must be a very different place than any other I have heard of. I am curious, and hopeful, this will meet our needs. You have this all arranged, then?”
I answered in the affirmative. “The Glass Slipper is an ultra secure private members' club. It’s well-kept, well run, and the activities will be very conducive for you, especially when you’re ‘antsy’.”
Sandy gave me a sultry look, saying, “I’m antsy for my husband’s cock right now.”
With that, she slid down off the sofa and proceeded to divest me of my pants and trunks. She then stripped off herself before she dove onto my crotch and inhaled my cock.
The weight of concern from the last week finally lifted from my shoulders. I relaxed and enjoyed the sight of my naked wife and the sensation of her mouth. The feeling of my cock buried balls deep in her throat as she milked me feverishly was overwhelming. I exploded like Vesuvius, so much so she had to pull off before she choked.
My cum was everywhere, and she was giggling uncontrollably in my lap. “My god Mike, he-he, I’ve never had you cum so much, he-he, ever!” She climbed up onto my lap and kissed me passionately. “You are my forever man, my love, and I don’t deserve you. But... that doesn’t mean you can forsake your duty to your wife and leave her unrequited. My pussy needs your golden tongue.” She slid off me and onto the couch, one leg over the back and one on the floor, spreading her pussy open lewdly in anticipation.
I dove into the Y eagerly, slipping my tongue into her passage, fucking her orally, then slid up to her clit. Roaming around her clit with the tip of my tongue, then flat slurping over the top of it soon had her squirming and moaning. I moved back down to her cunt, tongue-fucking her as deep as I could. Once her hips started air fucking my face, I licked back up to her clit.
