Harrison County, June 2017

+1+

“Shit.” My curse echoes in the mostly empty bedroom. Sera drags her tongue up and down my cock, slowly lapping around the tip before taking me into her mouth. My forearms ache from being  stretched taught above my head where my wrist are bound in tight leather handcuffs by a lead clipped to one of the bars running across the top of Sera’s four poster bed.

“Please”, slips from my lips. Sera laughs. Her deep sexy real laugh.

“Please what?” she says blowing across my sensitive tip and stepping back, “Go ahead finish that sentence.”

I sit back on my ankles as she walks behind me toward her leather jacket slung over her reading chair. The insulated hardwood floors make each click of her black pointed toe high heels audible.

“…please let me come.” Heat rises to my skin from the exertion of holding back. Out of the corner of my eye I can see her re-applying her lipstick and liner.

“Whatever”, she sighs, “I guess this is supposed to be a reward.”

Sera makes her way back over to the end of the bed, her eyes taking in my somewhat futile position. She tilts her gaze up to where my wrists are clipped. She leans forward to continue blowing me, but I angle away. I feel a little bold because it’s not her mouth I want.

“I-I want to fuck you”, I pull against the restraints and hoping a reminder of how futile my position will soften her, “I get to choose, right? I earned it. I’ll make it worth it. I promise”

 “No you won’t”, she says laughing, “But your work ethic has vastly improved this week. All things considered…”

I nod knowing she means my work as her husband. My other job was going to shit and had my anxiety on high alert. I wasn’t making a move against Day until I was able to look around his house at the cook out this weekend. In the mean time I kept my head down. 

Which meant focusing on my wife.  More to the point pleasing my Mistress. That I could do.  I managed to keep the house neat and organized even with the moving boxes still taking up most of the downstairs. I’d cleared all the paperwork off my desk and finalized Sera’s calendar with the social media freelancer. Dinner was on time every night and I kept it a good mix of local restaurants and high-quality frozen food.

Yesterday, Sera tried to throw a curveball by having me plant azaleas in the front yard and wash her car. She set up a deck chair in the front lawn so she could keep a close eye on my progress. She wore a long flattering sapphire blue sundress that caught the attention of every available and not-so available neighbor. I had a chance to meet the people I was representing. Real people whose money had been stolen by the Days.  It was a grueling work but afterward Sera couldn’t find a single imperfection.

Tonight I’d taken her out to a local art show then to dinner at a rooftop restaurant at the Hartford Town Center. On the car ride back I played my 2008 love song playlist but Sera’s mind was somewhere else. I think she is as nervous about the Day Summer Kickoff tomorrow as I am. Family-friendly suburban poolside parties would be new territory for both of us. So would snooping around my boss’s house looking for evidence to indict him in an embezzlement scheme—but I was kind of looking forward to that part.

“Paris”, Sera had said my name in the car on the way back home.

“Yes, Darling.”

“When we get back” I’d adjusted the mirror so I could see her focused on her phone in the backseat,”Wait for me.”

My response to that phrase had been almost Pavlovian. It meant I’d done something right. It meant I could have her. It took everything in me not to speed the rest of the way home.  I was so fucking keyed up and all too aware of my eight month dry spell. When we got back I went upstairs, undressed and waited to put this very expensive bondage bed to use.

Seraphina’s cellphone rings and I’m careful not to let my frustration show. She doesn’t even look at her phone, she just walks to her nightstand and shoves it in a drawer. Sera quickly unhooks the lead from the top bar and lowers my arms down. The sensation of relief in my forearms feels almost orgasmic. Sera massages my arms a little, loosens the leather handcuffs just a bit and refastens my wrist to the headboard with a shorter lead.

“Lay back”, she says lowering me to the bed flat on my back. Even though she was letting me come, Sera still liked to keep my hands out the way. I catch a glimpse of the clock. It’s 10:21. Even on weekends I still liked to be in bed at 10:30. Especially if I’d have to spend the day preparing for a party.

Sera shimmies out of her black dress revealing a cheap wrinkled red chemise underneath. The lingerie lifts slightly when she tugs the dress over her head and through her lacey blue underwear I catch a glimpse of the oversized jewel tipped plug filling her ass. She keeps her shoes on and crawls on to the bed. Sera straddles me and puts just enough weight on my lower abdomen that I realize her underwear is also crotchless.

She flips the switches on the bedroom’s remote until the room goes dark with a faint purple and gray overhead lights that pulse with the music. Fuck. If she just moved an inch lower it would make a world of difference. Sera leans down and smears her berry pink lipstick over my mouth and cheeks.  Her chemise accidentally grazes against my erection and my control slips. I bite back a loan moan and accidentally ejaculate on her inner thigh.

 “Fuck. I’m sorry D—“

“What the hell, Paris”, she says taking off the restraints, “This is what I get for being a nice.”

“I’m sorry”

I slide out from under her and into the bathroom and wash off the lipstick she’d smeared on my face. I linger in front of the oversized mirrors and observe the bags under my eyes.  I grab a chilled towel from the cooler under the sink and head back into the bedroom.

 “This isn’t like you. What’s going on”, Sera asks as I gently clean the mess of her thigh.

 “I’m losing control”, I say still moving he cloth in slow circles over her clean skin

“That’s obvious.”

“My anxiety is at an all-time high”, I finish, “The fucking VacationSavers scam and this party with Day? The minute those people meet me they’ll know I don’t belong.”

She tilts my head up, “I know you are stressed but there is no excuse for coming without my permission. When you’re not working all of your attention needs to be on submitting to me and my rules. You belong to me, not that job.”

I nod my head. She was right.

“Yes, Darling.”

She dismisses me with a hand wave and reaches under the bed for the bright blue vanity case where she keeps her sex toys. I spend more time in the bathroom staring at my under eyes. I needed more control in my life. There was too much uncertainty dealing with the Day.

Back in the bedroom the lights are on and Sera is putting batteries in the remote that came with the limited edition Sexy Sparkle Bunni vibrator I’d bought her. She clicks through the settings and lands on one that makes her drop the remote. I get on my knees to look for the remote but purposely take my time. The motor is loud and it’s so powerful she almost makes a sound. I find the remote and lower the setting before giving it back to her. I take in every detail as she starts to climax.

Afterwards I find the directions and set it up in the bathroom to charge.

“That was really…strong”, she says when I get into bed, “You always buy the nicest presents.”

I nod even though it’s nothing compared to the delicate tennis bracelet on her wrist.

 “You’re just trying to make me feel better-“, a bright spot of pain tugs at my chest as Sera twist my nipple ring.

“I don’t waste my time saying things to make you feel better”, she says turning off her bedside light, “Am I upset you’ve lost your self-control? Of course. But you wanted to fuck my cunt didn’t you?”

“Yes” I say. Firm. Declarative. She liked that.

“Why?” she asks pulling her hair into a high ponytail

“I…I wanted to make you feel good too. I want my reward to be yours too.”

“Isn’t that generous”, she says and she’s only slightly mocking me, “that’s what a good husband should do. Put his Wife or whatever’s pleasure first. You always do that, Paris. Putting others needs before your own. That’s why you are going to be okay.”

I slide under the covers and Sera dims the lights. In the dark I feel Sera’s weight on top of me and her mouth finds mine, eagerly coaxing it open.  Sera slides my wedding band off and deepens our kiss.

A new surge of arousal floods me and Sera flips our position and pulls me on top of her. She opens her legs wide, her feet flat against the bed and I hear her high heels tear into the sheets. I’m a little off balance. Sera never lets me on top or have free use of my hands.

She guides me into her and she’s still wet and relaxed from the toy but in my head it’s from being with a stronger more virile Dominant man. I push lightly against the jeweled tipped plug and her teeth grind together. For a few moments we quietly rock against each other which I guess is supposed to be comforting and what vanilla people do but is kind of boring.  I feel for her clitoris but Sera bats my hand away and half-heartedly takes over.

“Grab the headboard”, she whispers and I reach for the cold metal bars of the head board for a deeper angle. Sera wraps on her legs around me her high heels occasionally scratching my back encouraging me to thrust from a deeper angle. My body tightens painfully and I’m balancing on an edge and refuse to let go without--

 “Come “, she orders and I take full pleasure. She shoves me off her as soon I start to go soft. She kicks off her shoes, pulls off the lingerie then heads to the bathroom. I climb out of bed and quickly put them away in the dressing room before she gets back.

I glimpse as the clock. 11:04pm

 I lost 30 minutes of sleep. It was worth it… but still. Those thirty minutes could cost me.

“Calm down”, Sera says getting back in bed in a pair of boxers and her faded Harvard shirt, “I set the clock ahead before we left.”

She pulls our phones out the drawer and I see it’s 10:25. She slips the key off her neck and secures the chastity cage around me again

“Paris, you’re going to have to do something very good to ever get this off again.” Sera says.

“I’ll do my best.”

I pull on my wedding ring and meditate for five minutes. It takes less than that for Sera to start lightly snoring.

 

±2±

Washington, D.C 2010

I don’t know why a BDSM relationship began to appeal to me after I started at Georgetown University.

It happened sometimes after I said

“Hello. My name is Paris Prince. My wife and I just moved to DC from Cambridge. My fun fact is that as dashing as these scars are I got them in a childhood accident” I smiled at my fellow classmates circled up in the lecture hall, then sat down as the next member of our cohort introduced themselves.

Sera and I had moved into an overpriced shitty furnished one-bedroom basement apartment near enough to Georgetown that I could take the bus to campus. D.C was expensive and this time around I barely got enough student loan money to cover school, so Sera had to go back to work.

“It’s just temporary”, I told her, “Then you can go back to staying at home.”

Sera quickly found a job bar backing at Oasis, a straight mid-level D.C nightclub, and as a runner at a trendy lunch restaurant off K Street. She spent 60 hours a week juggling both jobs while I tackled a full class load and began my graduate thesis.

Grad school was different.

It was more about personal achievement and growth than grades.  I was getting a master’s in applied macroeconomics and somehow I struggled to fit in with my more altruistic cohort. School wasn’t about tradition and social status. It was about research, having good ideas and facilitating actionable plans. I stuck to what I knew best and focused on public economics and how changes in the economy impacted social services in small towns. It was broad shit. I was really biding my time until I could apply for law school again.

 I was told I wasn’t adept at defending my arguments and my papers weren’t analytical enough. In September I had a massive panic attack and passed out in the Dean’s office because he told me I was failing linear regression modeling and the professor wanted me out of his class because I was argumentative (just because I didn’t agree with one theory in his textbook). The professor said my work wasn’t “reflective of a Harvard graduate”. They had to call an ambulance when I passed out, I woke up in the ER and left as soon as I could.

When the bill arrived Sera just stared at it.

“Five thousand dollars? For a panic attack? Paris, we are never going to pay this. Why the hell did you pass out”, Sera said pulling on sneakers for her day job. The hospital bill joined the late rent notice and credit card collection letters stacked on my desk.

“I’ve never failed a course. I’m only two months into the semester”, I reminded her. “That professor had it out for me. I’m going to have to retake the course next semester. Maybe I can get a personal loan or you could get another payday loan.”

Sera looked at the time on her phone. She’d gotten in late from her other job and was working on four house of sleep

“Fuck. I’m late.” She said grabbing an energy drink from the fridge, “I’ll figure something out.”

The next week Sera came back from her day job and dropped a bag of clearance drugstore makeup on the small kitchen counter.

“What are you doing?” I asked. Although my real question was why she thought we could waste money on makeup.

“I convinced Seth to let me serve bottles at the club”, she said referring to her sexist manager at Oasis who always said she was prettier when she smiled. There was a lot more money in D.C nightlife than Boston but since Sera mostly ran cards, hauled cases for bartenders and restocked shelves she was the last person tipped out. Oasis was a straight nightclub so she’d began growing her hair out and presenting more femme because she got better tips.

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Because those bottle girls make a shit ton in tips.”

 Back at Harvard, Wentworth had dragged me along to a big Boston nightclub as his designated driver. The women serving bottles had looked like models and all the guys he was with had treated them like strippers instead of wait staff. I didn’t really participate which was probably why Wentworth started making jokes about me not liking pretty girls.

“Umm…don’t they recruit those girls from agencies? How did you convince your boss?”

“I gave him a blowjob”, she opened my laptop and pressed buttons until it turned on. 

“Sera”, I said as a warning though I was also jealous. It had been a while since we’d had time to be together. “You shouldn’t do that at work.”

“It’s fine. He was so grateful.” she typed one letter at a time until a make-up tutorial popped up. She pushed buttons for a few more minutes until I walked over and turned up the volume. She settled in and spent all night applying the make up until it was just right.

±3±

I felt uncomfortable when she went in for her first shift. She had on a cheap sparkly ruched halter dress from a bin at the thrift store. She’d slicked back her hair which was awkwardly growing out of a pixie cut.

 “I should get a job”, I said as she headed out the door with an off-brand energy drink one hand.

“You have to focus on school”, Sera said squeezing her feet into a pair of high heels, “You literally can’t afford to fail another course.”

The first few nights Sera lost her paycheck because of all the expensive bottles she dropped. She’d rolled her eyes in front of customers and hadn’t been polite enough. Men complained so she was put on probation her first week out.

“This isn’t working”, she finally admitted dragging herself in one night with just $15 to show for 8 hours, “I need to be a foot shorter with tits to make any money.”

It wasn’t the best news to get after I’d secretly taken out another credit card so I could go to lunch with some of my cohort. I knew Sera was gorgeous. She had an amazing body and cheekbones like knives. If this wasn’t working I knew it had nothing to do with looks.

“Sera, guys...straight guys want girls to be playful and flirty. They want to believe they have a chance. It’s a fantasy. You have to fake it. You’re hot. You have long legs, a great ass and wide hips. Act like you want to fuck them on them table.”

Sera gave me a side long look. We’d been together nearly three years and I rarely commented on her body.

“Here”, I grabbed the scissors I used whenever I had to adjust my clothes and cut a very generous inch off her dress so the stretchy fabric just barely covered her ass, “You know smile… I don’t know…they like arm touching.”

She silently considered this and headed off to the bedroom. The next few nights her tips start to slowly increase. She found heels that were a little higher and some shorter more revealing dresses at the thrift store.

One day when I’d gotten back from class I didn’t recognize her underneath all the makeup. She was adding volume to her awkwardly length hair with a flatiron she’d borrowed from a co-worker. I hovered near the bathroom watching her. She always wore sheer black tights to work and I’d started fantasizing about her bending over the sink and lowering them for me.  Her cosmetics tumbled off the ledge of the sink and the clatter bought me back to my senses.

“Are you sure you’re good to keep doing this?” I asked.

“I’ve been homeless Paris.” she said picking up the makeup, “You couldn’t handle it. I’m keeping a roof over our heads.”

“It’s just…you look like you did high school. I didn’t think you liked that.”

She stared at herself in the mirror and considered the deep smoky eye and bright pink lipstick. Her arms and legs were exposed, her body was strong but leaner since she’d dropped several pounds of muscle without access to a gym.

“I did not look this in high school.”

“You know what I mean.”            

 “It’s just cosmetic” she took a sweet smelling fluffy brush and added a trail of glitter to her décolletage and inner thigh. I was once again reminded of what little sex we’d had since moving to D.C.

“Shouldn’t you be studying” she said looking at me from the mirror.

“I am.”

She rolled her eyes and closed the bathroom door.

I don’t know what was in that glitter but when she came home at 4 a.m she’d made $200 dollars in tips. She woke me up so I could count the money twice.

“Yep”, I said putting the money into neat piles, “it’s two hundred. What did you do?”

“What you said. I pushed my hair back like this”, she shook out and pushed back her deflating hair, when she did she had this bright eyed genuine smile without a hint of her usual incredulity. Then she laughed like she did the rare times I said something that amused her, “...and put my hand on a few shoulders and when my boss wasn’t looking I…”

She moved to sit on my lap, careful not to put her full weight on me but her ass was strategically placed over my dick. I’m sure she could feel me getting hard.

“Sera. All this is temporary. As soon as I graduate I’ll start working and you won’t have to work anymore”, I said hoping if I got her to talk she wouldn’t move.

She shrugged and leaned back resting her head on my shoulder, “It’s so easy to make money off of straight men. I don’t know? It’s kind of fun being another person. They were so enamored. This one table of baseball players-- I convinced them to buy a 200 dollar bottle because I told them it was my favorite. I never even tasted it. They were so captivated …they would have done anything to make me happy. They craved my approval. For five hours I had complete control over them.”

±4±

Her last sentiment stayed with me.

Control

That was what was missing in D.C

Academically, I was doing okay. I was taking a full load of classes, volunteering on two research projects plus I was student volunteer for a Human Right Campaign project assisting members with researching how to write financially equitable trans rights policy for midsize cities.

Anything outside that was spiraling out of control

The apartment was always a mess. On the days Sera wasn’t working both jobs she was usually working one—so the housework took a backseat. I’d tidy up before heading to campus only to come back to a whirlwind of makeup, glitter, energy drinks, and whatever cheap frozen meal Sera managed to burn while rushing out the door.

Money was extremely tight and I couldn’t stop myself from opening new credit cards for little expenses that came up. I gave up my cell phone since my schedule was predictable. I used my neighbor’s slow Wi-Fi connection and we’d never been able to afford cable.

The rare times we were both home and wanted to have sex it’d just be a  quickie, Sera was always on top and once she’d held my arms down because I was “being awkward” and her grip unlocked something in me. I started intentionally grabbing and poking her during sex just so she would hold my arms down… and I wanted more.

More control

I think I always craved a little control in my life but there was more to it. I’ve always been attracted to strong powerful people. I’d definitely been attracted to Sera because she was taller and stronger than me. I’d devoured those presidential biographies because I was enamored by men with power. At Harvard I’d heard myself described as eager, passive, helpful…submissive.

Everything I knew about the idea of BDSM stemmed from a question on my psych 201 final. I remember the dry clinical description in my textbook about kinks and fetishes. I remembered thinking it was for depraved adults and moved on. Sure, I’d seen the jokes and references in movies…but I always felt  curious but never gave it a lot of thought.

One day I left for Georgetown early and sat under a shaded tree a few feet away from a group of bright-eyed undergrads. I connected to the internet and did a quick Google search for sexual submission. I had some idea what I’d find since I sometimes browsed gay porn site, but tended to limit myself because I needed my laptop to stay virus free.

I started skimming and reading multiple tabs. BDSM. Bondage Domination Discipline Sadomasochism didn’t seem like a things that would be associated with mild-mannered Paris Prince. Some aspects appealed to me more than others.

Things like Bondage. Domination. Maybe even Discipline.

 There also seemed to be an academic and psychological aspect that spoke to the scholar in me. I went to campus early for a few days just so I could find a private place to browse stories, forums and blogs. I told myself I was in one of those “internet-rabbit holes.”

But pretty quickly looking online and masturbating while my wife was at work wasn’t enough. I wanted to actually explore whatever it was I was feeling. To get this ideation out of my system before I started pursuing public office. I contemplated how to bring up my interest in kink to Sera. There was a ton of advice and stories on how to talk your spouse. But they were worried about their spouses judging them. I was more worried how to explain it to Sera.

In the end I decided to write a 12 page mini-thesis with citations explaining that I wanted to incorporate bondage and discipline into our sex lives. I tried to explain why it appealed to me. Sera already knew I got overwhelmed in the bedroom. I never knewwhere to put my hands or if I was going anything right. I’d always preferred partners who took charge. I just wanted to explore it.

I kept my little thesis serious and business like. Nothing titillating.  I printed my paper out at the library, slipped it in a plastic sleeve and left it sitting on the kitchen counter underneath the Sookie Stackhouse series Sera wanted to read but never found the time.

 I pretended to be studying when she got in at 4am holding her high heels. She stepped out of her dress leaving it on the floor and pulled out the cash hidden in her waist trainer. I later found out she’d been mugged twice on her way back but hadn’t said anything since there was nothing I could do about it.

“You’re up late”, she said standing in the living room in just her underwear

“Just finishing up.”, I lied. I just wanted to see her face when she read my paper.

She pulled on a t-shirt out from the laundry basket by the door, yawned and picked up my paper. She skimmed it while pouring cereal into a drinking glass. After a few minutes of skimming she tossed the paper at me and sat really close to me on the couch.

“You are so weird, Paris. I can’t believe you wasted paper on this.”

“Oh”, I said flushing and going back to my books, “I was just joking—“

“But... It might be fun.”

“Oh. Okay? Um, we can go to the library do some more research first.”

She laughed, “Only you would want to go to the library after asking for dirty sex and your wife to dominate you. You are so funny Paris.”

She got up and laughed on her way to take a shower. My face was heated with embarrassment. I hadn’t used the word dominate because I was afraid it would make me sound weird. It was like she just knew how much that idea appealed to me.

They next time we both had an hour off we went to the library. Honestly, it was just nice just to be out the house together. We’d been in D.C since June and had yet to explore the city. Sera pressed her chair right up next to me to read over my shoulder as I searched whatever websites and blogs the library internet didn’t sensor, then checked out a few non-fiction and literary erotica.

I always get a little embarrassed thinking about those early days. I didn’t just want more interesting sex, I wanted learn more about the lifestyle. I was fascinated that there were other people who were interested in something that appealed to me. People who bonded over their interest and society’s judgment of them. I was drawn people who understood what it was to be judged. It was an instant community.

 Sera and I worked our schedules so we could attend an open house at Ace Hall, a BDSM club in Maryland outside of Silver Spring.  It was more accessible than the high-end clubs in D.C. We took two buses and walked a mile to get there. Ace Hall was housed in a detached former dance studio off a sparsely populate street on a corner plot of land. The inside had a distinct late 80’s dance hall feel with parquet floors, celling fans and gray florescent light.

When we stepped in there was a bar and communal area where everyone was gathered, a raised ramp lead to what had been the main dance floor but which Ace Hall used as a meeting/demonstration/party  room. There was another bar area on the other side along with a smaller former dance studio they called The Annex.

At the open house we were the youngest people there, it was a strictly social non-kink event but it was clear everyone knew each other pretty well—a tactic that helped everyone stay safe.

“You’re how old?” Master Mitch the portly and very knowledgeable owner asked.

“I’m Twenty-three. My wife’s twenty-four”, I said because I couldn’t help myself.

“Oh, you look older.” He said to Seraphina then turned back to me.

“This is a casual get to know people event. No business talk. Perspective members get discounts on introductory course. After you take three intro courses you get to apply for membership and can attend play parties. We also have events that are open to the public but members get discounts.”

“Sounds good.” I said.

“Okay. Have fun.”

Everyone was open and friendly, though aggressively trying to sell tickets to their themed parties and weekend workshops.  I did most of the talking since small talk wasn’t really Sera’s thing. Ace Hall had some free classes that appealed to the academic in me even if all the hot dish didn’t.

No one asked lifestyle questions that night but I picked up there weren’t a lot of male submissive in that particular circle. People thought submissive men made the community look bad especially since the mainstream media loved portrayed impish submissive men with latex clad domintatrixes as a joke. A lot of the men at Ace Hall thought like that. They were old school and thought men who claimed to be submissive were idiots who feel in love with dungeon dommes and didn’t appreciate the art of submission. Seraphina took it all in without showing a shred of emotion that first day.

“What do you think? I asked her on our way home. We were weighted down with bags since several of the women felt the need to load us up with leftovers.

“I don’t know, Paris. Is this really something we have to spend money on?”

“We could make this work. I’ll start donating blood again. I think this could be good for us. Like a hobby.”

“I mean if you want me to tie you up and boss you around do I really need a class?”

Her dismissiveness worried me. I just felt like there was more to the community than that.

“I think being this adventurous could be dangerous. Think of it more for safety.”

We scraped together the money to attend some of their introductory Dominant/submissive classes. I made Sera sit in the front with me and she had to stop me from constantly raising my hand and asking questions. I was always chattering away with anyone I could talk to while Sera stood silently next to me. A lot of the Doms noticed Sera’s naturally dismissive quiet nature, that combined with her looks got her into trouble when they tried to flirt with her. Master Mitch said they saw her a bratty sub that needed training. In the middle of his explanation Sera started laughing.

“God, this is so needlessly complicated.”, then she walked out.

I thought she was done after that, but one night I found her flipping through all the notes I’d taken in the classes.

“I meant to throw that out.” I said looking at the notebook

“Why?” she asked closing the notebook

“I know…you’re not really into this and I don’t really have time for other relationships. I’m so fucked up to have gone this far. I mean if Wentworth ever--”

“Don’t even say his name. I get it Paris. This clearly interest you but I just have so much I’m already doing.”

“I know. Look, we need to relax. I talked to Mitch and he had sold me discount ticket to the Autumnal Equinox Party next week. Can you take the night off? It’s just a kink party but it’s a party.”

“Don’t we need that money?”

“We’re ahead this week. I know you miss partying.”

±5±

 

Sera managed to talk her boss into giving her the night off. I didn’t have anything sexy to wear so I just went with my usual black attire, Sera wore one of her dresses from work and the heels.

I almost didn’t recognize Ace Hall when we arrived. The parking lot and surrounding land was filled with cars sporting plates from all over the DMV.  The line to get inside moved pretty quickly. The music was so loud and you could feel the bass. We had to sign that we’d read all the rules and understood there was on sexual activity, no personal photography and no full nudity. Guest had the option to wear a face masks and I quickly slipped one on.

There was a photo station in the front where groups and couples decked out in casual to extreme fetish wear posed with props. I was particularly intrigued by a man in his mid-40’s proudly clad in leather shorts and a form fitting harness over his soft body with a slightly younger women in spiked high heels and a mini fall floral dress leading him around. Once they were in front of the camera he said something to him and he got down on his hands and knees she perched on his back and smoldered into the camera.

The collected their printed pictures and I watched as the man followed her across the dance floor keeping one step behind the woman, there was reverence and respect in his eyes even though she wasn’t looking.

“Sera I—“

I turned and realized Sera wasn’t standing next to me. I panicked thinking she had left. Then I noticed her on the dance floor with a man wearing a John Deere hat and camouflage cargo pants grinding on her.  She seemed to be into it, he was whispering to her and pointing to the back where a sign said DEMONSTRATIONS & PLAY ROOMS. Sera and the guy spoke and gestured to each other for a few more minutes then danced through two more songs before Sera came back to join me.

“What was that about?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know. He wanted to do a scene with me or something?”

“…do you? I mean I’m okay with it.”

“Why do you think I need your permission”, she said half-jokingly.

“Sorry”

She squinted.

“You really are naturally submissive. You really need this don’t you?” she said rhetorically

Sera lead me over to the bar and we and ended up splitting a 21 dollar margarita. It was a major splurge but I’d grown pretty ambivalent about my mounting debt.

“It’ just…he asked.” She said out of nowhere.

“Huh?”

 “That guy.”, Sera said, “He asked if I wanted to dance. Je asked if he could touch me. He asked if I wanted to play with him.”

“Is…that problem?”

She leaned against the bar trying to find her words.

“…I work all night with grown men touching, whistling and grabbing sometimes even kissing me… like none of them ever ask. Seth is always like ‘It’s your job. Boys will be boys.’”

Seraphina finished the margarita. I hadn’t know that part of her job bothered her so much. She usually focused on the money and how gullible the rich guys were. I motion for her to lean down so I can whisper into her ear.

“I’d never touch you without permission”, I say.

She gave me on of her rare smiles and ran a finger along my scar. We wandered over to the play rooms and demonstration area in The Annex of the club.  In retrospect it was a pretty low rent display. In The Annex I could still see the ballerina wrapping paper from the buildings previous life through the pain job. The lighting was flattering to no one and a few strobe light were in the corners. Some low thumping music was coming from an iHome set up at the front of the room where a room monitor was kicked back in a chair on his phone.

There was a handful of guest milling around and watching couples engaged in various public scenes behind roped off booths I was briefly overwhelmed by the display of skin, gruff demanding voices followed by harsh slaps then screams of pleasure and pain. Even though full nudity and sexual activity wasn’t legally permitted everyone seemed to know how to toe the line.

“Okay?” Sera asked and I felt her arm over my shoulder.

“A little overwhelmed…”

It was bizarre to me how people where just milling around and chatting like they were in a museum. There were two curtained off booths where people could sign up for time-slots in a public or private stations.  Some open booths were for amateurs, but the ones with professionals had the biggest crowds. Some people even pulled up chairs to watch a burly chested man tease his redheaded sub. It was clear even to me just how much trust and consent existed between them to pull off the scene.

 I was envious how openly vulnerable the women were, openly expressing pain and being teased to pleasure so publicly. Putting that trust in someone reminded me how I felt with Sera the first night in the apartment. Talking about my sexual anxieties and my identity. Trusting her to hold on to all my fears, anxieties without judgement.

There was one guy jerking off in a corner and security seemed to be escorting him out. I turned around realizing Sera was gone again. I did a quick 360 and saw a gorgeous blonde in a leather bikini had pulled her over where a small cluster of vendors was setup and selling shit we could never afford.  I politely steered Sera away and over to where some folding chairs for those wanting a 360 full view.

“Kiss me”, Sera said.

And I did.

For what felt like the first time since we moved to D.C. we started making out, which seemed to be allowed. It was hot knowing strangers were watching. Sera pulled me into her lap which was a little humiliating but a provided perfect access to her neck.

“I have an idea”, Sera said, “I saw another couple do it and I’m curious. I want you to kiss my shoes.”

I hesitated not sure I heard her right. I slid down to my knees unsure where to start. I let my lips graze the leather high heel mules she wore to work. Sera bit her lip when I moved up to her ankle.

“You can sit back down now”, she said her usual stoic expression giving me zero idea how she felt about it. I sat next to her and we just…watched. Because I had no chill I’d started talking to other spectators including a   fast-food franchisee who told me about all the high-end clubs he went to and he (which is completely against etiquette) dropped names of celebrities he’d met.

Master Mitch came around at least twice to see if I wanted to join Ace Hall. He promised he’d throw in a student discount but I put him off. Sera didn’t say a word the entire time and it became obvious later she didn’t like him assuming I was the head of household.

We spent the rest of the night on the dance floor (deftly avoiding Mitch) and stuck around for an amateur fireworks show that was very lively. We didn’t get home until 4am. People kept buying Sera drinks so she was sufficiently drunk when I lead her through the door. Even though the apartment was messy, laundry was overflowing, the sink was filled with dishes and the bills were piling up we didn’t care for just one night.

“Did you have fun”, I asked leading her to bed

“Mhmm”, she said still dancing to music that wasn’t there, “I mean…I always knew there was something about you…but that whole setup was like an orgasm party. I mean the party was like an orgasm.”

“What do you mean?” I asked taking off her shoes and pulling the covers over her.

“All the…hot, intense, pulsing, dirty, screaming moaning...” she slurred, “We should do this. Let’s do it. Let’s be filthy.”

±6±

“How’s that”

I twisted my wrist behind my back. Trying to work them out of the looped handcuff knot that bound them. The more I pulled the tighter and more solid the knot became.

“It’s getting tighter”, I said

“I think it’s supposed to.”

Sera was on top of me straddling my waist, learning to tie ropes had come easy to Sera because she’d done it during her short stint in the Marines. She flipped me over onto my stomach and carefully tied my ankles together using the same knot, occasionally consulting the book I’d picked up the Ace Hall free information exchange. A small bookshelf filled with kink centric zines, articles and how-tos people could drop off or borrow.

She ran her warm hands up my back and down the back of my thighs before turning me back over. There was a hint of concern in her eye before she reached into the 99 cent store bag on the floor and pulled out a scented candle in a decorative tin. She lit the wick and watched the candle burn and melt into nice pool of wax. She was dressed for her morning run in black basketball shorts and a thin black sports bra.

Sera picked up the candle and slipped her pinky finger into the warm melted wax, then without warning tilted a drop of warm liquid on my chest, avoiding the sparse patches of hair. The moment the sting of heat registered it was gone. I had just enough time to suck air through my teeth as another hot stream made a path across my chest.

The next drops hit lower and my body involuntarily recoiled. My movements were limited and I reached the point I always reached in our experiments where I realized there was nothing (well, not nothing) I could do except take it. That for the next twenty minutes or so what happened was completely outside of my control.

I recoiled again and Sera made this low noise that sometimes slipped out when she was having sex. A drop hit just above my sternum and rolled down the juncture of my thigh until it cooled. She set the candle down and started running her finger up the paths the wax had taken, breaking up the cooled wax into thin satisfying sheets.

She tightened her other hand around my cock, moving rough and fast. I dug my teeth into my lip forcing myself to hold back. I was sucking in a lung fulls of air to keep on the edge. I closed my eyes to help myself concentrate and I heard the stirring of Sera laughing.

“You can come now.” She said

I opened my eyes and came around her fist before my body went completely still.

I flinched when Sera picked the candle up with her other hand. She lowered it in front of my nose mouth.

“Blow”

I gathered enough breath to blow the candle out. Sera climbed off of me and disappeared into the bathroom. Her high ponytail swinging from the pink Red Sox cap the girls at Hey Mamas bought her.

Ever since visiting Ace Hall last month we’d started to experiment with kinkier sex. We couldn’t really afford anything and were limited to safe household options to make our rare encounters more interesting. I was definitely preferring it to vanilla sex but I still found myself wanting something more. I felt like joining Ace Hall was a good start.

I’d had to really buckle down to convince Seraphina.

“It’s just 100 dollars a month”, I’d told her, and “I’m required to work the tutoring center this semester once a week. So I’ll make that in one month.”

“Paris. It takes forever to get to Ace Hall and they just make you buy more shit.” Sera had just gotten back from the restaurant and smelled like French toast, coffee and dishwater.

 “Sera you and I have been working our asses of since we were eighteen. Other people spend money on vacations, hobbies and entertainment. Doesn’t this sometimes feel like all three? Let’s be a little selfish.”

Sera looked at her schedule taped to the refrigerator. She’d had five hours to sleep before she had to get ready to go to Oasis. Four if she ate.

“Fine”, she’d said, “But you’re paying for it.”

“Thank you.”

I had actually already called Master Mitch and joined. My tutoring also wasn’t required, I only signed up so I could afford Ace Hall. I’d had a habit of topping from the bottom—this was just before Sera could call me on it.

Sere was right,  they had a lot of free introductory classes and online courses—the purpose of which was to get you to pay for premium classes and courses, where you were then prompted to buy equipment, clothes or toys. I was sort of amazed this business model worked when the clientele consisted of Doms who loved to say no.

I also had to reconcile that while the idea of a male Dom sounded like a fun night, it was the aesthetic and idea of a Dominant woman that appealed to me. I’d always been attracted to women who were smarter, older and powerful. I’d dated more female professor and grad students at Harvard than I had peers. I wanted a Dominant Wife but I also didn’t want to put Sera in that gendered box.

We’d stated with some basic bondage with the old crimson ties (everyone’s favorite gift to give at Harvard) that I never wore. I’d started shifting the dynamic in my relationship with Sera. I got up a little earlier to do laundry and start cleaning. I’d confer with her on any decision and always went with what she chose.  From there we’d moved on to orgasm control and were slowly exploring that thin line between pain and pleasure.

Hence, the dollar store candle wax. The sweet smelling hot wax had produced a mild sensation but it didn’t produce the intense combination of pain and pleasure I’d heard about.

“I should have done this a long time ago”, she said coming back in from the bathroom and adjusting her cap.

“Which part?” I asked.

“The teaching you to come with permission part.  It was annoying that you could never last more than two minutes not matter where I let you put it.”

“Oh”, I said.

“Honestly, Paris this doesn’t…feel right.” Sera said throwing the candle in the trash can.

“Oh…Okay”, I said like it was no big. I felt extremely vulnerable all of a sudden and it had nothing to with being naked with my wrist bound behind my back.

“It’s just”, Sera explains pulling on her sneakers and adds extra duct tape to the holes, “This is what you want. You wrote a whole paper asking me to do this for you. You picked the club, you tell me what you want. I’m not really in control. This is about you.”

“Oh”, I said because I’d learned that this could happen. I needed to make sure she felt like she was in control, even though this would always be a thing I asked her to do for me. “How can we fix that?”

“I know you Paris. I just don’t think this is what you really need. You’re not this type of masochist.”

“I trust you to know what I need.” I tell her, “I’m open. You could even…hit me.”

“Paris”, she said as warning, “That almost ended our marriage.”

That memory was still painful, mostly the helplessness I felt because the counselors didn’t seem to care.

“This isn’t like that”, I said, “This is consensual.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for…what do they call it”, she said, “Impact play?”

“Sera. This doesn’t work if I’m not pleasing you. If I’m not doing something right…I want you to punish me in whatever way you think is best.”

She seemed to think on this as she headed out for her run, leaving me in that vulnerable position. Ready and waiting for when she came back

±7±

I’m not saying it’s the BDSM but my I finished up my first semester at Georgetown in a much better place than where I started. I was perfecting my arguments and making breakthroughs with my graduate thesis.

I’d had a rough Friday before Winter Break. I’d spent all morning  carrying my group as we finalized our a market analytics presentation , followed by a two hour shift tutoring freshman football players who made me feel old and out of shape.

To cheer myself up I’d asked Sera if I could go to a local Harvard Alum meeting after my classes.  I showed up vastly underdressed to the Ukrainian embassy and got yelled at by a senator’s bodyguard for getting to close. Then a mid-level White House staffer mistaken me for a waiter. I just slipped out early feeling like Harvard was so very far behind me.

I missed my bus and had to walk all the way to the apartment with 50 pounds of books to start my paper on the augmentation of game theory. Before I stepped foot into the apartment I could hear Seraphina in the bedroom. I heard her fake “bottle girl” laugh. There was another low male voice mixed with hers. I took my shoes off at the door and listened again. We’d never had other people over before in D.C.

 My first instinct was to call out but I had been learning to fight my first instincts. I noticed two Oasis shot glasses on the counter. There is a note on the back of a receipt in Sera’s elegant handwriting.

Kneel

I pushed open the bedroom door. Sera was standing in the middle of the small room kissing a tall older man, her hands threaded in his thick mane of silver hair.  She caught my eye as the man lowered his head to kiss and suck her neck, her sharp gaze went where my pillow (the one I still had from Mrs. Wentworth) had been placed on the floor in the corner. I walked over to the corner with her note still in my hand.

Kneel

“Now?” the man growled eagerly running his tongue up her neck

Instead of answering, Sera one handedly loosened his belt and slipped her hand into his pants. The man purred into her neck and lightly bit her.

“Fuck”, Sera moaned as he blew over a bite. He grabbed her ass under her dress, a faded second-hand black mini dress with a cut-out at the sternum. The man aggressively pulled the hem over her waist and snapped the functional lace garters that kept her thigh highs form falling down. The man lifted his face from Sera’s neck and gave me a very passing glance before his attention went back to Sera. I dutifully remained kneeling, back straight, knees apart and hands behind my back. I tried not to let my shock show.

I knew this man.

 He’d failed me earlier this semester. He was the reason I passed out in the Dean’s office and the reason I got that fucking medical bill. Professor Henry Saunders had brow beat my cohort in liner regression modeling. He’d called my gasp of economic influence “tenuous” and “insipid”—whenever I answered a question. I’d wanted to respectfully debate but he just dismissed me. 

The passing glance he gave told me he hadn’t even recognized me.  I’d spent hours in his office begging him not to fail me and he didn’t even recognize me. Sera had no idea who she’s picked up.

“You’re so fucking sensitive here”, Saunders growled into her ear, “Did you know that, beautiful?”

 His huge bulging erection was pressing into her. She moaned quietly under her breath in a way I’d never heard her before, especially if a cis-man and his cock was involved. Saunders whispered something in her ear and pushed her down on the bed. The older man took in her eager form; mouth swollen, heavy breathing, legs slightly open. Sera was usually way more reserved. I’d never seen her like this, not even back in college though I realized the attention had mostly been on me. 

Still standing over her Saunders leisurely runs his hand up her long legs and under her dress. He expertly unhooked the garter and slowly dragged down her soaked red thong, I was vaguely aware I’d never gotten her wet like that. Or even knew it was an option. She sat up on and pulled Saunders on top of her, the dominant in her eager to take hold. This experienced handsome older man made her want in a way I just didn’t think any straight man was capable of.

“Fuck”, she said in a thick voice I didn’t recognize when he pulled out his huge erection. Saunders pulled her off the bed and to her knees. She teased him, kissing his pelvis and the tip, Saunders grabbed her by the hair and shoved his cock down her throat.

“Relax”, he said when she started to gag. Her eyes watered causing her cheap eye makeup to run in black rivulets down her cheek. Once Sera adjusted to his size her experience took over. This seemed to thrill Saunders as he ramped up his speed, he seemed ready to explode but held back and pulled out of her mouth.

He helped her up and back on the bed. Sera playfully pulled him down by his tie and whispered in his ear. He grinned and settled behind her on the bed. He pushed her forward and repositioned her until she was on her hands and knees. He lifted her dress adjusting her legs a little wider and forcing her chest to the bed.

“Damn”, he said and then smirking he lowered his mouth and went down on her from behind.

“God...fuck...fuck…fuck-”,” Sera’s usual cold reserved composure melted away. She dug her forehead into the bedspread and bit back a loud moan when as he slipped in two fingers and fucked her at an obscene pace. He brought her right to the edge and pulled back. She cursed again and involuntarily pressed against him. He laughed.

 “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you are nice and ready for me, sweetheart.” He said.

She started to say something but was unable to finish when he bought his mouth back to her. She’d given up on being quiet. He was entirely in control of her body and played it so well. He finally let her come, pleasure visibly coursed violently through her body. Afterward he gently rolled her on her back.

“Open your legs sweetheart and show me where you need to be fucked”, he said. Her moment of hesitation made the moment she gave in much more erotic. Saunders pushed his full thick long length into her, he pushed her knees far apart and up to her shoulders then found a powerful hard rhythm. The cheap bed shook and squeaked under the force of his hips, the intensity of it bringing her to another loud orgasm.

Holy fucking shit.

I thought and closed my eyes for a moment

 It suddenly hit me that in almost three years of marriage I’d probably never given my wife an orgasm during sex. I’d never thought to worry about it since she took care of it on her own or moved my hand when I tried to finger her. Here I was embarking on a journey to submission when for the past three years I’d selfishly put my needs and pleasure first, fucking like an amateur in the dark.

I opened my eyes again and he still had my wife on her back. She’d positon herself so her head was at the end of the bed, I could mostly see her face and where she’d bitten through her lip when she thought staying quiet was an option.

“Shit. You’re so fucking tight, beautiful”, he says even though her eyeliner had run down her cheeks, “You’ve never had real cock have you?”

She manages to shake her head.

“Let me hear that deep sexy voice”, he demands her, “Is this the best cock you’ve ever had?”

“Y-yes”, she manages pure desire and heat in that one word.

Familiar heat had consolidated behind my eyes. I blinked away the pressure but I felt the tears coming anyway. The voices in my head got louder.

Inadequate. Not good enough. Loser. Reject

….tenuous grasp of the material, Mr. Prince.

…Insipid argument, Mr. Prince.

Fail or dropout

Fail

Failure….

He fucked your GPA, Paris. Now he’s fucking your wife’s cunt better than you ever have in 2 and a half years, Paris. All you can do is watch, Paris.

The first warm tear on my lips takes me by surprise, the second feels like this is what I deserve.

I had to sit here and let a stranger—my asshole professor who didn’t even remember me---give my wife the best sex she’d had with a man.

Look, Paris

A voice inside me continued

Watch him fuck your young wife, listening to her moan and beg for another man’s cock because you are aren’t capable of soaking her sheets and leaving her sore.

My body shakes little, I inhale sharply but remain quiet as more warm tears start to fall.

I wasn’t a good husband

I’d never be a good submissive

This loud passionate fucking was going to keep going and I’d have to keep enduring it.

And the continuing humiliation made me.

Hot.

Feverishly aroused

I was this kind of masochist.

I caught a final tear on my tongue as it rolled past my lips and turned my attention back my bed. I was so fucking turned on by the onslaught of humiliation. It was the perfect intersection of pain and pleasure. Sera had arched her back and tilted her head slightly to watch me. If this made her happy I’d kneel here all night. I’d learn to put my Wife, my Dominant’s,needs before my own. Even if that meant she needed to be fucked by a stronger more adequate man.

“Come”, Sera said locking her ankles around Saunders and warpping her hands around his tie, pulling him to her

“What--?” he said choking a little as the tie tightened around his neck.

“Now.”  She said her voice reserved and cold.

Saunders roared obediently. She took her time letting go of his tie. Freaked out, Saunders slipped the tie off and somehow his expert hands pulled a few more messy orgasms out of her. Afterward they lay panting collapsed on the bed. They’d barley even undressed. He eventually tucked himself in and kissed her gently.

“You’re a little bossy aren’t you?” he said getting up, “I know the city pretty well. Give me a call I can show you around.”

He slapped his business card on the night stand, she ripped it in half and threw it in the trash with him watching. He squinted like he wasn’t getting the joke.

“Okay. At least let me take you out for a drink, beautiful. I’m single with no one to spoil-“

“The door is that way”, she said focusing on her compact mirror and the black eye makeup running down her face.

“Fucking bitch”, he saw himself out his ego clearly bruised.

I waited obediently in my corner until she finally got up, she gathered up the comforter, sheets and her underwear. I waited while she took a shower and dried her hair.  She changed into her sweatshirt and boxers then went into the kitchen to put what smelled like a frozen lasagna in the oven. Eventually she came back into the bedroom and over where I was still kneeling.  She ran her hands though my hair and I felt myself relax.

 She left and came back into the bedroom with my laptop, notebooks and textbooks in tow. She set them at the floor in front of me.

“You want to do this, Paris? Let’s do it because there are a lot of way you can be more useful. You want me to take the lead? You want me to be your Domme ? Fine. You’re not in control anymore. For starters sex and masturbating are out of the question for you unless you earn it. Fucking me is no longer your concern. I have the final say on anything and everything that happens in this household. So you spending money at Ace Hall and opening credit cards behind my back ends now. Now, this corner is going to be your new bedroom and workspace.”

I shifted to sit on the floor and pulled my laptop to me.

“For how long?”

“Until I say so.”

“Yes, Darling.”

+++

…but LiLe what does this have to do with embezzlement in a small town?

I feel like it’s important to understand Paris and Sera’s relationship dynamic to move to the story forward. I wrote most of this story in order but the um…Saunders scene was one of the third things I wrote because I knew grad school had been a discovery period for Paris. As many people clocked Paris in not a traditional masochist. He is an emotional masochist.

This actually shows in in the New Aeterna-verse as subtext and text. We’ll get there.

Muse : didn’t you steal that part where Sera shows Paris how she acts at the bar from United Light ? Like isn’t it one of your favorite scenes ?

Lils : That was an accident. Also I have been doing a light UL re-read...

Next up part II of D.C...

Also I imagine it’s this is their bed.