Exploring the Lifestyle

"Sometimes."

"Does that heighten your excitement? Look at me."

His eyes burned into her. The wetness increased. "Yes," she breathed. "The idea of being restrained and helpless does raise my temperature a notch or two."

They both took bites of their food, their eyes challenging each other. Roger was intent on testing her, and Elizabeth was determined to keep up with him. She was tired of being the proper conservative, sexless woman.

"What about being blindfolded while the pirate captain has his way with you?" he continued as if he were talking about the weather. Elizabeth gulped but responded in kind. "I hadn't thought of that, but I suppose it would eliminate distractions and focus the mind."

"And what if the captain invited his first mate to participate in your ravishment?"

This question shook her, and her cheeks blushed scarlet as she pictured what it would be like to be bound and blindfolded as two men had their way with her. The butterflies in her stomach flapped their wings. "Oh my... my fantasies never went that far," she finally replied.

"And what if one of the pirates was a woman? Have you ever been with another woman Elizabeth?"

Immediately Elizabeth's mind flashed to the time when she was just eighteen and her roommate had come in late and gotten into bed with her. The girl had been drinking and said she was so frustrated by her date's lack of sexual interest in her. The comforting hug from Elizabeth had exploded into a wild session of sexual experimentation. Both were embarrassed the next day, and it never happened again. But Elizabeth still remembered the feel of the girl's tight body and the sensations from her nibbling teeth and probing tongue.

"I...," she began and then stopped. It was just too personal. She could not tell him. At least, not yet.

But her lack of response told Roger all he needed to know. It was clear that no matter what her experience had been, Elizabeth was not turned off by the idea of sex with another woman. Her cheeks were flushed, but she was not outraged by any of his questions. He decided to press on in another direction.

"When was the last time you were spanked Elizabeth?"

Relieved that he did not insist on knowing about her brief Lesbian relationship, Elizabeth answered quickly. "My father never spanked me. My ex swatted me on the bottom a few times, but in a playful manner. I tried to egg him on, but he never pursued it. I guess I never been really spanked. Are you going to spank me, Roger?"

Roger just smiled. "Finish your dinner," he said.

"I'm done. It was delicious."

"Would you like desert?"

"No thank you. Now that I'm a single girl I have to watch my figure."

"Your figure is superb, and that dress shows it off well."

"Thank you kind sir."

Now that dinner was over Elizabeth was even more nervous. She did not want the evening to end, but was unsure of what to do. Was all that talk about punishment real? she wondered.

Roger waved at the waiter, who scurried over. "We are leaving now," he said. "Put the dinner on my bill and add twenty percent for yourself."

The waiter thanked him, and Roger stood. "Come Elizabeth. We have some unfinished business in my office. Then I will call a taxi to take you home."

He took her hand and led her out of the restaurant. They reached the sidewalk and turned back toward Roger's office building. "I feel like a lamb being led to the slaughter," she quipped.

"The only things that are going to be slaughtered are your old hang ups about sex," he said, squeezing her hand. "You are still a young woman and I have to ask you, are you on birth control?"

My god, she thought. There's no doubt about the reason for that question. He's going to take me in his office! Will it be on the conference table? On the floor? Do I have any say in this?

"Yes," she said, snapping out of her reverie. "I started on the pill years ago and just never stopped. Not that it mattered in my situation."

"Maybe you were hoping to run into a man like me," Roger said with a smile.

"Maybe so," she agreed. How did he know that? she pondered. I was wishing someone would come along to force me out of my bad marriage.

Nothing else was said on the short walk to Roger's building. George, the doorman, saw them coming and opened the door. "Back so soon, Mr. Carlton. Did you forget something?"

"No George. Ms. Woods and I have some things to take care of in my office. We will probably be a while."

"Very good sir. I will make sure you are not disturbed."

"Thank you George. Come Elizabeth. I am most anxious to wrap things up, so to speak."

Yet again Elizabeth felt the color infuse her cheeks. The insinuation was that she was going to be the thing that was wrapped up. Did George know what was about to happen to her? Is that was what was behind his remark about their not being disturbed? Was this a common occurrence at the office?

In the elevator Roger took her into his arms and kissed her. His lips were soft, and he did not force her. He wanted to show her respect and only take her where she wanted to go, which he was pretty sure was the same place he had in mind. Maybe he had finally found a kindred spirit who was intelligent, beautiful, and open to be trained to please him.

He lifted his head and stroked her cheek. "Elizabeth if I do anything to you, tonight or ever, that you want stopped, just say the word 'uncle'. I promise I will stop, at least temporarily."

She shivered in his arms. "Is that what they mean by a 'safe word' in 'the lifestyle'?" she whispered coyly.

"Yes," he laughed. "But once you are really in 'the lifestyle' with a trusted partner you can forget it. Your partner will know when to stop, and it is more exciting to leave that decision to him, or her."

"Are you going to lead me into 'the lifestyle'?" she asked as the elevator doors opened.

"We shall see. Come now. I want to show you the night view from my office window."

Roger put his arm around Elizabeth's waist and guided her down the hall. She snuggled against him, feeling desired and protected. His hand wandered over her hip, savoring the smooth, feminine curve. The silky fabric of her sheath dress molded to her body and seemed to lubricate a path for his exploring fingers. He wondered whether the stiffness in his pants was obvious to her.

**

It was. Elizabeth's mind was churning in overdrive. She knew that as soon as they entered Roger's office things were going to get very hot very fast. I want this, she thought, but I have to protect myself. For all I know he is going to sweep me into the infamous lifestyle this very night, and I know so little about it. Some of those internet stories and pictures are disturbing, to say the least. They reached the door, and he unlocked it. "After you, my dear," he said gallantly. "Go through the reception area into my office. You know the way." His office door was open, and the lights from the city coming through the large windows provided more than enough illumination. She crossed the area quickly and turned to him immediately after entering the office. "Roger, I want you to tell me more about the lifestyle that you are a part of.

Roger smiled at her reassuringly. If she wanted to know details about the lifestyle that meant she was serious about becoming a part of it. He resolved to go slowly, pushing her a little at a time until she was totally under his control. There was no doubt in his mind about the depth of her smoldering lust or her proclivities; it all depended on breaking through the social taboos. He had seen it before.

"Of course," he said. "Now that we are in a private place we can talk freely. Come sit down. Would you like a drink?"

"No thank you," she said. "I've had quite enough." I don't need to have more alcohol suppressing my inhibitions further than they already are. I could so easily just turn myself over to him, and it frightens me.

Elizabeth sat in one of the large leather chairs in the furniture grouping in the middle of the large office. A matching chair and a long leather sofa bordered by a heavy wooden coffee table completed the set. Roger's desk was along the outside wall, positioned so that when he sat in the big executive chair his back was to the window. A mahogany bar stood in front of a floor-to-ceiling bookcase on a side wall. The other side wall contained a door that Elizabeth knew led to a private bathroom.

I doubt I can get out of this chair without help, she thought as she sank deeply into the luxurious embrace of the soft leather. Her already short skirt rode up over her knees, and she struggled with her hands to get it down.

"Don't," Roger said so sternly that she jerked her hands up like she had touched a hot stove. "You have lovely legs. Don't deny me the pleasure of admiring them."

She put her hands on the armrests of the chair and crossed her legs. The dress hitched up a little more, exposing a band of white flesh above the band at the top of her thigh high stockings. I do have good legs. Let him look.

He was standing at the bar pouring himself a bourbon over ice. "That's better," he said as he gazed frankly at her slender legs. "Now what would you like to know?"

"Please come sit down," she said lightly. "I feel like I'm a bird caught in a trap in this chair, with you looming over me ready to pounce."

He sat on the couch opposite her. "I promise not to pounce until all your questions are answered. After that..."

"Yes, well, I want to know more about your involvement with this thing called the 'lifestyle'. How involved are you? Who are the others? How often do you do things with them? What kind of things? The mind boggles with the implications of my becoming involved with you."

He chuckled. "But the mind is also intrigued, is it not?"

"Not only the mind," she murmured. "But talk to me."

"Okay. For me the term 'lifestyle' refers loosely to a network of people who are sexually aroused by the idea of one person having power over the other. The submissive person is forced to let go and accept whatever is done to them or they are required to do. The dominant partner gets off on having that power and creating the sexual high for both parties. If you are bent in that direction it is the best sex in the world. It covers a broad range of behaviors, from bondage and discipline, to humiliation, to master-slave relationships. Role playing and group activities are often involved. There are some extreme groups where sadism is involved, but I steer clear of them."

"Are people you think of as 'ordinary' involved in this kind of thing? How many are they?"

"You will be amazed. They are all around you. Most of them practice only in their minds; they are too scared to 'come-out'. But recently there has been more written in the press about it, and of course the internet has opened a lot of people's eyes. The negative social stigma is still there, but I think someday soon the so-called 'life-stylers' will be coming out of the closet just like the gays did."

"With gays you can usually recognize them by their looks or mannerisms. Can you do that with 'life-stylers'?"

He laughed. "No. You have to get to know them. You watch for clues, like how they react to erotic pictures, or news stories. They are people for whom sex is a big factor in their lives. Sometimes they are natural risk-takers, but sometimes they are conservative, like you, and need to be coaxed."

Elizabeth blushed. "What did you see in me that made you think I would be interested?"

"You reveled more about your sexual nature than you realized during our conversations about your failed marriage. I saw your frustration. And I noted that you liked deferring to me when I asserted myself. And of course people generally know when they are sexually attracted to someone and when that someone feels the same way."

"My goodness, you are certainly observant. But I never imagined that I would be considering actually adopting the lifestyle. I need to know more about it. Is there some kind of formal association?"

"It's not like joining a country club," he chuckled. "You don't make an application and sign papers. You can experiment, and stop anytime. There are some groups that meet regularly, and some of them even have a clubhouse where there are special rooms. But mostly it's just like-minded people enjoying each other's company, and it can be a monogamous relationship involving only two people."

"What niche do you occupy in this society?"

"I see myself as an open-minded, free spirit. I have friends in various groups, but belong to none. Sometimes I attend group events, but generally I prefer to have an intense relationship with one woman, assuming I can find someone who likes what I do. There are lots of kinky things that turn me off."

"I sense that spanking is not one of those turn offs."

Roger set his glass on the coffee table and leaned forward until he could put his hand on her bare knee. "A sensual spanking can be the gateway to incredible passion."

Her breath caught in her throat. "But doesn't it hurt? What about the pain? Do you use just your hand?"

He laughed. "If I used only my hand, my hand would hurt more than your bum. My hand will be employed other ways. But don't concern yourself with details and destroy the mystery. Believe me, any momentary pain will be overwhelmed with other emotions. It's like a runner's high."

She was not convinced. "How do you know? Have you ever been the 'spankee'?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Switching roles can be fun."

"Well that's something," she giggled. "What's good for the goose is good for the gander."

"The key thing is trust," he said seriously. "You have to believe that your partner cares about you and has your best interests at heart. It's not about pain for pain's sake. For me it is not exciting unless my partner is excited. But there are some crazies out there, so you have to know whom you're dealing with."

"And what happens to these women after you finish playing with them? Do you toss them aside in favor of fresh blood, so to speak?"

He squeezed her knee. "Relationships among people who relish the lifestyle are like relationships everywhere. They last as long as both people want them to. Like all relationships they are multi-dimensional in terms of meeting each other's needs; it's not all about sex. I've had long term affairs with half a dozen women in my life, but something was always missing. I never came close to getting married."

"I would have been better off not getting married either," she observed.

"Look Elizabeth, don't try to deal with every eventuality up front. Go with the flow and see where it leads you. I will keep you safe."

She lowered her eyes. His explanations had reassured her. "Okay, I guess," she said softly.

"Good girl. Now let me help you up. I want to show you something."

Clasping her wrist he propelled her out of the chair. "My goodness you are strong," she exclaimed. "No wonder I'm afraid of you."

"No need to be. Come over to my special bookcase."

He led her behind the bar and pushed a hidden clasp at the end of one of the book shelves. An entire section, books and all, popped open on silent hinges. Behind was a peg board wall on which were hung an assortment of paddles, whips, restraining devices, gags, blindfolds, and other sex toys, including a number of sealed plastic bags containing probes and vibrators.

"OH MY..." she gasped.

Roger watched her closely, gauging her reaction. He recognized the excitement in her eyes. It was the same way he reacted when exposed to a new display of items of sex toys in a store or in someone's bedroom. "This is only a sample of my collection," he said. "I have much more in the special rooms in my country home."

Elizabeth breathed deeply. She was mesmerized by the implications of what she was seeing, her nerves electrified.

"The time for talking is over," Roger said as he extracted a riding crop from its hook. He brought the tip up under her chin. "Put your hands on your head and walk over in front of the windows. From this moment on you will do exactly as I say. Do you understand?"

His take-charge manner broke through the last of her reservations. A rush of arousal surged through her body. She wanted this. "Yes Sir," she said. "I understand."

With one hand on the back of her neck and the other keeping the crop on her throat he marched her to the window. The lights from outside played across her body, highlighting her hips and thrusting breasts. She stood straight in her four inch heels, her shoulders back.

He pressed the flap on the crop against her cheek and whispered in her ear. "Now I am finally going to explore this woman who has been hiding her inner self from me all these weeks. Keep your hands on your head."

"Ahhh..."

The crop moved over her forehead and down the other cheek. "Close your eyes," he said.

She grimaced as she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. All her senses focused on the insidious leather pad that was blazing a trail down her neck and through the valley between her breasts. Her body tensed, and she let out a low moan.

The teasing tip continued slowly downward, now turned on its side so that the rigid edge cut a shallow groove in her stomach. Unconsciously she thrush her hips forward, aching for the probe to touch her where she most wanted it.

His lips were an inch from her ear. "Very nice," he whispered. "I see that so far your body likes the attentions of the crop." He licked her ear. "We'll see how that holds up when it begins to punish you."

A shiver shook her body from her head to her feet. "Oh god, Roger.... your tongue..."

"Ah... sensitive ears too. Tormenting you is such fun. Now hold still..."

He held the crop like a violin bow and let it drop to the juncture between her thighs. The tight dress transferred the pressure directly to her eager pussy. After a pause he began to stroke her with the crop edge, up and down, in and out of the slippery groove. She groaned and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"I told you not to move," he scolded and removed the crop. "You will be trained to obey. That's three transgressions to punish you for: being five minutes late, failing to tell me about your sexual attraction to other women, and not controlling your body under the mildest of stimulations. I think we'll start with a spanking for being late, shall we say five smacks for each minute?"

"Please sir.. that sounds like a lot.. this is all so new... I'm not so sure about this.."

"Nonsense. We both know you are ready. You have your safe word, but I will be very disappointed if you use it." He ran his hand over her ass, sliding the dress material as he examined her. "A perfect ass for spanking," he said. "Nice and tight and not too big... each cheek its own half volleyball. So many possibilities..."

"Ohhh..."

"Now let's see how well you can follow instructions. Bend over and put your elbows on the windowsill. Keep your legs straight. You can open your eyes and enjoy the view."

The window sill was a marble slab, about ten inches wide, and twenty inches off the floor. Elizabeth lowered hands from her head, glad to feel the blood flow back into her fingers. She bent at the waist, curled her arms, and rested her elbows on the cool surface. The position make her ass the highest point on her body. Roger had used this arrangement before, and loved the lewd effect.

"Oh god, this makes me so vulnerable!" she whined.

"That's the idea," Roger said as he pulled over his wheeled desk chair. He sat directly behind her and put his hands back on her ass. Her dress was stretched tightly over the protruding domes, and he could not get his fingers on her lower cheeks or thighs. "This will not do," he said. "Your dress is interfering with your pending chastisement. It must come up out of the way."