Seventy Three – Oakham

Seventy Three

Catherine’s Story

by

Rebecca Symmons

Part 1

Rudiments

1

Richard would be leaving again in the morning. He had been making the overseas trips for most of the eight years of their marriage, but seeing him go never got any easier, leaving Kate with the usual emotions of loss and guilt. Of course she would miss him but she had also come to enjoy the freedom. The trip was only due to last four days, which was about average, and after all that was what paid for the very comfortable lifestyle they enjoyed.

Flying to the Far East had become common: it’s where most of their new products were manufactured. Kate knew little of how the business worked but had always been supportive and had put in a lot of time and effort during the early years.

Fifteen years earlier Richard and two university friends set up the company, to produce security and surveillance equipment. The modern world seemed to have an ever increasing need for such products and sales grew year on year. With two of the products from their range becoming worldwide sellers, the three partners quickly became quite wealthy. Kate was proud of Richard as both of those products relied upon Richard’s specialist area within the company–complex electronics and software innovation.

What made the latest trip different was that Richard would have a lot to consider. Kate had spent many an hour reflecting on the possible consequences of her proposal, and eventually she knew that she would have to open up to him; that seemed to be the only option. She figured that the long journey would give him plenty of time to consider her proposition.

There was no doubt that they had a very happy marriage: they loved each other, but Kate’s need for something extra had always been with her, niggling away at her. And then, out of the blue, it seemed that a solution could be available.

Richard was a considerate husband, a passionate lover and her best friend, and there could be found the source of Kate’s guilt: she knew that it was no longer enough.

Maybe she was being unreasonable, she was luckier than most. Three years earlier when the business really took off and they no longer had to rely on her lawyers’ salary she was able to make a big change in her life. Her passion for art took her on a new path and she opened a small art gallery. It gave her more time to meet up with her friends, go to the gym, visit galleries and see shows. Even to her, wanting more seemed unreasonable.

For Kate, it was the other side of their relationship which had always been the problem area, always there lurking under the surface and bothering her. In the past, she’d attempted to give it a higher profile and encourage Richard to make it a bigger part of their lives and he’d tried, he really had, but he’d treated it more as a game and not the serious life style choice which she had in mind. As his initial enthusiasm dwindled she’d be left disappointed once more and ‘normal life’ returned. It skulked away, back under the surface, but never too far. But, she had made her decision, she had to act–it was make or break. She was all prepared, well, all except for the courage.

2

It was still dark when Richard left for the office: planning to use the extra time to prepare for his upcoming trip. Kate joined him for a light breakfast before facing her punishing fitness routine.

A half hour run would have been enough for most people; Kate followed hers with a strenuous workout in their home gym. She wasn’t addicted to exercise but was conscious that, at the age of 42, she needed to spend some time looking after her body. Exercise wasn’t an onerous chore to her, she enjoyed it. Never having had children and following a regular workout routine had helped to keep her breasts firm, buttocks tight and thighs toned. Her slim waist and fairly consistent weight meant that she still looked good wearing tight fitting clothes.

Walking out into the bright sunshine when exiting the dim underground station at London Bridge, made Kate realise how much she loved summer in the city. The streets were busy as she made her way through the office workers and baseball capped tourists. The short walk to the gallery was interrupted by a shrill ringing from her phone. The screen told her it was Helen calling.

“Hi Helen, is everything OK?”

“Kate, where are you?”

“Just leaving the tube station, I said I’d be in late this morning, remember?”

“Oh yes, that’s fine.” Helen had no issue with what time Kate arrived. “It’s just that these electricians are about to leave.”

“Have they finished, is it all working?”

“Err…no,” she said, unsure of what reaction to expect.

“Right, don’t let them leave; I’ll be there in a minute.” She pressed end call and quickened her pace.

The short walk along Borough High Street only took a few minutes before Kate reached the gallery. She loved the shop they had leased to set up the business. The unspoilt Victorian frontage still had its original mouldings around the windows, although less detailed than they were due to the slow build-up of paint applied over many years. The windows themselves had that distorting effect, unique to old, impure glass, produced many years before modern manufacturing methods made it possible to produce large flawless sheets devoid of character. The gallery stood on a corner plot providing a large window area for the display of artwork. Right on the very corner was a beautiful curved piece of glass held between two round mouldings, each eight feet tall. Kate hoped the glass never got broken: a replacement would not only be hugely expensive but would be a modern soulless copy. A narrow, creaky staircase led to two other rooms on the first floor, mostly used to house the exhibition stands and assorted accessories. Thankfully, both rooms still retained the Victorian fittings and cast iron fireplaces, and one, facing onto a side street, had original balcony doors and iron railings.

As she opened the door the old brass bell signalled her arrival. Helen rose from the desk in the corner and, in her ever graceful manner almost glided across the space to greet Kate with a kiss to both cheeks.

“Hi, sorry I was longer than I thought,” Kate said, “I was held up at Mr. Ferguson’s.”

“I don’t suppose he’s done the frames has he?”

“Some, I’ll fill you in after we sort out these electrical geniuses.”

Helen gave an understanding nod before calling to the back room. “Harry, Kate’s here.” She had seen them scuttle away when they saw Kate about to enter.

The squat, balding figure of Harry appeared round the door closely followed by his apprentice, Keith, whose sole purpose in life seemed to be to agree with Harry at all times and carry the tools on an enormous leather belt around his waist. “Good Morning Kate.”

“Morning Harry, Keith. I don’t want to be rude but yes, it would be a good morning if you were no longer here. This job was supposed to be finished yesterday. Why wasn’t it?”

“Ah well, we’re waiting for a new switch-box see, and then it’ll only take an hour.”

“Well get the switch box and fit it then.” Kate said, as though it was obvious.

“We’ve got it ordered but it hasn’t come in yet, the lad ‘ere phoned Gus this morning to check, says it should be ‘ere tomorrow.”

“And Gus is the only London supplier of these switch-boxes is he?” Kate’s sarcasm showed.

“Well…no…obviously not, but we always get our stuff from Gus see, ‘ave done for years.”

“I see. Do you remember signing our contract for this job Harry?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you read it first?”

“Well…not all of it, I trusted you.” Harry was getting a little apprehensive and unsure of where the conversation was going.

“Well, let me give you a brief summary. A contract is an agreement of terms and conditions between two parties, which both are obligated to fulfil. If either party fails to fulfil the terms there are consequences. The terms here state that if you fail to complete this job on time you’ll only be paid for the materials which you’ve so far supplied, the remainder will be forfeited, to be used by me, to pay for another contractor to complete the job.”

“Yes but…”

“No buts Harry. You have the choice to leave now and forfeit your fee or you can risk upsetting Gus, go to another supplier, and be back here within the hour to complete this job. What will it be?”

The two workers looked at each other, and realised they had no real choice. Harry moved toward the door snapping at the unfortunate Keith.

“Come on lad, let’s try Wallace’s.”

“Oh Kate, you were cruel to them,” chided Helen. “But at least we should be ready for the opening.”

“I know, I hope I haven’t upset him too much”

“Upset him? You’ve probably just made his day–being spoken to in a stern way by a strong woman, I bet he can’t wait to get back.”

“Helen, behave yourself.”

“OK, where are we?” Helen said, picking up her note pad from the immaculately tidy desk. “Oh yes, Elizabeth came in to see you, said it was nothing I could help with. She’s gone to get some bits and pieces and will call back in a while.” Kate felt relieved that she would be returning, she had to see her before Richard went away.

“So what about the frames, has old Mr. Ferguson done them?”

“He’s done half and they’re OK.” The questioning look on Helen’s face forced her to continue to defend Mr. Ferguson’s work. “They are Helen, honestly.”

They had used the old man since the gallery opened but had noticed a decline in the standard of his offerings since his assistant had unexpectedly left earlier in the year.

“He showed me what he’d done so far and they looked good. I was later than I’d planned to be because he insisted that I go upstairs to have a cup of tea with him and his wife–she’s virtually bedridden now you know. Oh Helen they’re both so lovely; we couldn’t tell him we were going to take our business elsewhere. Besides it looks like we won’t have to. He was very apologetic but said that he was thinking of retiring by Christmas and moving down to his sisters near Brighton.”

“Kate you’re too soft. We’re supposed to be running a business here,” then added, “but don’t ever change,” and gave her a big hug.

The clanging of the bell alerted Kate to Elizabeth’s return. “Elizabeth, hi, thanks for calling back, sorry I missed you.”

“No problem I had a couple of errands to run”

“Helen, will you be OK with things here for a little while if I pop out with Elizabeth?”

“Sure, I’ve got things to do anyway and Laurel and Hardy should be back with that elusive switch-box soon.”

“Thanks, are we still on for lunch?”

“You bet, and Melissa said she can join us, see you later.”

3

Kate and Elizabeth left Helen to look after the gallery, before heading round the corner to their favourite coffee shop.

“Has Helen always worked for you at the gallery?”

“Yes, but we’d been friends for years before that. I finished at the law firm three years ago and decided to have a go with the gallery. Helen was working as a P.A. for an executive at an advertising company in the City. She wasn’t very happy there and felt she needed a change. I needed somebody to work with me and could offer the same sort of money she was already getting so she left and here we are.”

“So you’re not partners?”

“No, Helen wanted it all official: employer and employee, but it doesn’t work like that. I do the more creative bit with visiting artists and choosing work for exhibitions and so on while Helen puts her P.A. skills to use with the organising, bills, invoices, manning the gallery, day to day stuff like that. I’m there most of the time anyway but free to come and go as I please. I don’t mind Helen having time off whenever she wants it but she rarely does, she’s very conscientious.”

“It all sounds like a friendly set-up, you must enjoy it.”

“It works out well and we do have a good time, yes. If it’s quiet we’ll go for a coffee or early lunch and put in extra time before exhibition openings and artist promotion days.”

On entering the coffee shop Kate chose some free seats in a quiet corner where they could talk without fear of being overheard. While Elizabeth went to order their coffees Kate reflected on their conversation the week before. Initially, she’d been reluctant to divulge her secrets and share the things that she hoped would become real, things that so far she’d not been able to experience. She’d been put at ease by hearing Elizabeth tell her of her own experiences. Kate couldn’t believe that she’d been sitting there discussing such things with a real person, somebody she knew, and not just reading an anonymous person’s experiences on a website.

She looked over to Elizabeth, waiting at the counter. Kate would assume her to be a year or two older than herself but obviously looked after her figure and skin. She seemed happy and confident. She was obviously successful as an artist and, as far as Kate knew, happily married. What made Kate so excited though was that she was looking at someone who lived her life the way that Kate has so far only dreamed about. Elizabeth had not just wished for it like herself, she’d gone ahead, taken the plunge, and actually done it. What’s more, she may also have the contacts who could enable Kate to do the same thing, and realise her own dreams.

Elizabeth returned from the counter and sat opposite Kate.

“I thought I’d hear back from you. Before I met Robin I went through exactly the same thing you are now. I thought what I wanted was impossible to achieve, a dream, and destined to remain that way. Thankfully it all changed and I don’t regret what I did one little bit. I felt so free; like this great cloud had dispersed. I saw a new future and I was desperate to experience it.”

“But has it had an effect on your marriage, your home life or your career?”

“Well yes, as with anything there are affects, but mostly positive, and I would hope that others see me as I feel I am, a confident, happy woman. I’m very happy with my artwork, it’s my creative outlet, something I’m in control of, and in all other ways, apart from the obvious, it’s the same with the rest of my life.”

“So you do still feel in control of things, you don’t feel…I don’t know how to put it…downtrodden?”

“Of course not, far from it. Robin doesn’t abuse me in any way, I’m my own person in all other aspects of my life and neither of us would want it any other way. And that brings us to your other consideration–Richard, and his views on this.”

“I know, and I’m sure that he’ll be okay with it,” Kate said, then added as an afterthought, “maybe not as keen as me though,” at which they both giggled.

Elizabeth continued. “It’s a big step for both of you and how to approach it is the important thing, but your marriage seems very strong and I am sure he’ll be more willing than you think.”

“Well I’ll soon find out. Richard’s away tomorrow for a few days so we’re going out tonight for a meal at our favourite Italian restaurant. I’m going to broach the subject then–definitely.”

“Great, good luck and let me know how it goes. I’ll be waiting to hear.”

The two said their goodbyes, kissed and left the café. Kate returned to the gallery to find the electricians nearing the completion of their task. By half past one Harry and Keith had finished the work, tested the new lighting, cleaned up their mess and left. Helen was up to date with her list of jobs and Kate was hungry. Maybe it was turning out to be a good day after all.

“Shall we close up and go to lunch, Helen?”

“I thought you’d never ask, come on.”

Lunch with Helen and Melissa turned out to be as enjoyable as ever. Kate ate very little, which may have been for sensible reasons, as she was going out later with Richard or it may have been because her stomach was a little fluttery due to the uncertainty of how things would turn out during the evening. Helen never had a lot to eat or drink during the day; like Kate she saw going to lunch as a social event rather than an opportunity to gorge herself. Melissa on the other hand could eat for England. Fortunately for her, at the age of only 26, she had the metabolism to cope and never seemed to put on weight.

They both loved Melissa; everybody loved Melissa. Her bubbly personality and endless ability to see the positive side of everything made her good company. She loved to share the gossip about the latest victims from her never ending stream of boyfriends, and get into long discussion of the traits which made them unsuitable. The conversation never got depressing though as the next one was usually lined up ready for the slaughter.

4

The warm summer evening confirmed their decision to walk to the restaurant. Richard had returned from work early, so they had plenty of time. They had made the journey numerous times, it was their favourite place for Italian food.

As usual they strolled along hand in hand, taking in the sights and sounds of the city as it closed down for another day. During the winter months they would have taken the car and been there in five minutes but the twenty minute walk that night seemed to go just as fast to Kate. Her mind whirled, considering the various starting points she might use for the conversation she needed to have, or was it a confession she knew she had to make.

There had to be a reaction of some sort, it could be one of hurt or curiosity, or maybe Richard would just be repelled by her lack of inhibition and reckless suggestions. She would know by the time they left.

One of the two regular waiters showed them to a small round table in the far corner, next to the window. After exchanging pleasantries they ordered a bottle of House Red wine and glanced at the menus. It wasn’t really necessary, they always chose their favourite pasta dish and placed the order as soon as the waiter returned with their wine.

Richard wanted to tell her about his trip and what it could mean for future business if it proved to be a success. He even tried to explain the working of the new product. Kate doubted she would have totally understood on a normal night but she went through the process of listening and nodding in what she thought were the correct places. Fortunately there were no questions which tested her attention.

By the time Richard had finished the food had arrived. The pasta and sauce smelled and looked delicious, coupled with the rich, full bodied red wine they savoured every mouthful. The portions were not oversized, as found in many restaurants, so their hunger was satisfied without feeling uncomfortably full.

It didn’t take long for the waiter to reappear and take away the plates. After declining the offer of desert they were left alone to enjoy the rest of the wine.

“You seem rather distracted this evening darling, is everything okay at the gallery,” Richard asked. “Did the electrics get finished?”

Kate relayed the day’s events with Harry and Keith, using the shortest version she thought she could get away with, one which wouldn’t provoke too many questions.

“Actually Richard, there’s something that I want to talk to you about.” To Richard that phrase usually meant that he’d done something she wasn’t happy with, she wanted to buy something very expensive–and knew he wouldn’t agree that it was necessary–or she had a confession. He assumed it would be the most common of the options.

“Oh yes, what have I done?”

“Don’t be silly, you haven’t done anything.” She put her hand on his.

“It’s just rather awkward where to start. You see…well, I…” Her hesitancy made him curious as to where she was heading but he knew that she’d get to the point when she was ready; he just had to be patient. Kate started again. “It’s awkward for me and difficult to put into words. It’s about us and our relationship.” Richard’s eyes widened rapidly and his jaw dropped. “Oh, no darling it’s nothing like that,” she assured him, realising how that must have sounded. “There’s no problem with us, between us, I love you and always will.”

“Shit, Kate, don’t do that to me.”

“I’m sorry darling, really. I’m not doing this very well so I’ll just get to the point. You know how we like to share fantasies when we’re…you know…feeling sexy?”

“Yes.” After the initial shock things were sounding much better to Richard.

“Well, I always held back when you got me to tell you mine.”

“That’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Richard smiled, “but why would you hold back?”

“I was afraid, of what you might think of me, that I might say something that you would find disgusting and you would think less of me.”

It wasn’t much of a revelation to Richard. He knew her well enough to realise that during their sharing sessions she had given away more than she thought she had. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d put a suggestion to her and she’d been horrified or turned it down with an absolute no. In fact, more often than not, there were follow up questions clarifying the details of the fantasy, and usually she added some variations of her own.

“Kate, if I recall things correctly you’ve shared with me…” Richard tailed off his sentence due to the arrival of the waiter who enquired whether they would like more drink, coffee or anything else. They ordered two coffees.

“You’ve shared with me your fantasies of being had by your boss at work, exhibited in public, being raped, being gang-banged, lesbian sex and so on and so on. Have you now got another, beyond those, that you think will shock or disgust me?”

“When you put it like that no, I suppose not,” she said, before he continued.

“I also noted that most of your fantasies veered towards doing all those things because you were told to, or made to. Your boss was going to fire you if you didn’t do it, your lesbian lover was blackmailing you and so on.”

It was true, most of the fantasies she’d shared involved her being given to a stranger for sex, to be controlled or dominated.

“Hmm,” she said, as if deep in thought, it seems you were taking it all in, I’ll have to be more careful in future.”

“I’m not sure I want you to. But anyway, what’s the problem here, why have you brought this up now?”

“The problem was when we tried to put the fantasies into reality. You were great in giving it a go and trying to give me what I wanted. Remember? You told me off and even smacked my bum once.” Kate stopped when she saw the coffees being brought to them and thought she saw a smirk on the waiters face. Could he have heard? “You were great at first, but then, when things got more difficult, you eased off and didn’t make me go through with what you’d threatened.”

“But I couldn’t hurt you for real or be really rough with you, I love you.”

“I know you do and that’s the problem. I wanted you to force me to do those things, to make me. I wanted to be taken further. I wanted to be scared of what was to come. Instead I was left wanting more and needing more.”

“I understand what you’re saying, can we give it another go, try to make it work?”

“You know I’ve had my fantasies about being submissive for ages, as you seem well aware of–apparently,” she said smiling, “but you trying to mistreat me hasn’t worked has it? Because you love me too much. You start to feel sorry for me and don’t push me as I’d like. And don’t get me wrong, I love you for that but I need the other as well, the threat, the fear of the unknown, and the unexpected.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to be treated like that, it’s just that I couldn’t bring myself to do it to you. I couldn’t hurt you because I love you.”

“I know you do darling, but what I crave is the sort of treatment that would come from somebody who doesn’t love me, who doesn’t even care what I think about it.”

“You are a dark horse aren’t you? Look at all these people in here.” He glanced around the restaurant. “The waiter already knows you like your bum smacked and the diners probably think you’re the typical career woman and home-maker. They don’t know, hell, I didn’t know until now, what lies in the dark recesses of that beautiful mind. All those things you think about, and want to do.”

“That’s not quite right, I don’t want to do them; it’s more that I want to be made to do them. I don’t want to agree to it, the thrill would be in doing what somebody else told me to do, made me do, to satisfy their needs.”

Richard became serious for a minute. “You’ve obviously thought about this a lot haven’t you? Why haven’t you brought it up until now?”

“Because I was scared that you’d think I was weird and not love me any more.”

After blurting out her innermost thoughts and secrets she suddenly stopped, afraid she had taken things too far. She held his hand across the table and looked into his eyes, waiting for the response she needed to judge his reaction. He slowly raised his eyes and looked directly at her. She feared the worst.

“And you want more?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to tell me, in detail, what it is that you want. We need to be quite clear about what we’re discussing here. You’ve kept things secret for too long.”

“Oh, Richard. You’re not angry, ashamed of me, disgusted with me?”

“You’re still the beautiful, loving, sweet and sexy wife you were when we came in here.” His kind smile and tighter grip on her hand told her that all was well between them, despite her confession. Her relief must have been obvious to him. “What’s changed is that now we can add dirty and kinky to the list. Now, as they say in the American films, “spill the beans punk. And don’t hold back.”

Kate was elated. He’d listened to her little speech, not judged her in a negative way, and had given her free reign to share her needs and desires.

“I want to be made to do things, dirty things, things that I don’t want to do so that it’s a challenge. Things that humiliate me and please the person making me do them. I need to suffer to show that I’m being controlled and trying to please those controlling me. Does that sound really odd to you?”

“Yes, but carry on,” he joked. What sort of things.”

“I don’t know, it doesn’t really matter, I shouldn’t know, that’s the thrill; the not knowing. As long as they’re humiliating things, things that embarrass me, the result will be the same. The thought of being made to do disgusting things is a real turn on.”

“What sort of things would you be willing to do?”

“That would be up to whoever was controlling me. I wouldn’t be able to refuse anything, that’s the point. For example, you said in your fantasies that you would expose me to other men and get a thrill from showing me off to them. Would you really like to do that or was that just a fantasy?”

“Would you really want to expose yourself to other people?”

“No, I don’t want to, but I want to be made to.” Kate tried to curb her obvious enthusiasm for what she was proposing. She didn’t want to get that far and then scare him off. “I’ve disgusted you haven’t I? You think I’m weird.”

“You don’t need to worry about that.” He leaned across the table and gave her a long, tender kiss. “Besides, I couldn’t boot you out, you’re not safe to be released into the community.”

“Richard.” She gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.

When it was time to leave, Richard left the table and went to settle the bill. During his absence Kate realised how lucky she was to have somebody in her life that loved her enough to understand her and was willing to support her in finding that special part of her which had been hidden inside for so long.

“All paid up, are you ready?” Kate got up, ready to leave. He paused for a moment and just looked at her. “This means a lot to you doesn’t it.”

“Yes it does.”

Having talked for so long they hadn’t realised how the time had slipped away without them noticing. When they stepped out into the cool night air the neighbourhood was almost deserted. Kate held the woollen shawl around her bare shoulders. Richard, ever the gentleman, placed a protective arm around her and they set off for home. Holding her close was more meaningful to him than merely retaining body heat. He felt close to her; he was proud of her and wanted to show it. He was proud of the strength she’d shown in opening up in such a manner despite being aware of the possible consequences. It left him with slight feelings of guilt; he’d not done the same with her and confessed his desires. Maybe he was weaker, or was it that his needs weren’t as strong as hers?

“So, let me just get this straight,” Richard said, as they walked. “You want to be controlled and comply with the wishes of somebody else. You want them to push you to do more outrageous things. You want your sex life to be controlled and if you fall short of what’s required you want to be punished for failing, basically you want to be a sex slave. Is that right?”

To hear it out in the open, and summarised like that, made Kate a little ashamed.

“Yes, I want to move from fantasy to reality. I want to try those things for real.”

“It’s not that easy you know, it’s not like deciding to join a singing group or the bridge club; how would you make it real?”

“I know that and the whole reason I’ve brought this up now is because an opportunity has come to light which could prove to be the solution.”

“You have been a busy little girl haven’t you?”

“Actually, no, I haven’t. This came up by chance. I didn’t go looking for it.” Kate went on to explain. “You know Elizabeth, one of the artists from the gallery?”

“Yes, the one who does the weird stuff with the dark, almost abstract figures?”

“That’s not the best review she’s ever had, but yes that’s the one. Well, I went to her studio last week to see the stuff for her solo exhibition we’re putting on in September. I hate to admit it but it was as you describe, but it’s great. Anyway we got to talking about the work, her inspiration, the meaning behind it and so on, and, to cut a very long story short, it turns out that she and Robin are into this whole thing. She belongs to him, in the way that we’ve been talking about.”

“No! Really, Elizabeth? I’ve only met her a couple of times but…well…you wouldn’t have guessed would you?” A grin came across his face. “But then, look at you. It seems you’re not quite as straight laced as people imagine either.”

“Richard, shut up.” She pulled him closer as they walked.

“Anyway, they’re part of this organisation that do this sort of stuff for real and might be able to get us an introduction.”

“Who are they and what would that involve?” he asked thoughtfully.

“She didn’t, or wouldn’t, go into any detail, it’s very private as you would imagine, but she did say that if we wanted to find out more in general terms we could go and see her and Robin.”

They walked on in thoughtful silence for a while until Richard broke the spell. “I don’t think that you’ll get this out of your mind and feel at ease with yourself until you’ve explored this will you? It’s obviously been niggling away at you for a long time and I can’t help you with it on my own. So I think you’d better arrange for us to see Elizabeth–the kinky artist.”

“Richard don’t call her that,” Kate scolded.

Richard was once again thinking of her needs and doing what he could to make her happy. Ironically it was the strongest thing they had which was now holding them back: their love for each other. He couldn’t give her what she wanted because he couldn’t do to her, or make her do, the things she desired. He knew that he needed outside help from a source where love was taken out of the equation.

5

The bleeping of the 6.30am alarm woke Kate from her slumber. Both had slept surprisingly well considering the remarkable disclosures of the previous evening. Perhaps the emotional turmoil was exhausting. Richard had to be away by 7.00am and had already showered and made coffee for them both. The usual going away routine was in operation, but there was more closeness, an unspoken bond, more reluctance to separate. However, by 7.10 the taxi had been and whisked him away to the airport, leaving Kate to her own devices until Thursday when Richard was due to return.

A text message the following day informed her of his safe arrival and he promised to call her on Skype when he had the chance.

The days passed depressingly slowly for Kate, not only waiting for his return but desperate to take the first step on their new and exciting adventure. Following her usual daily routine Kate completed another strenuous workout in the gym and welcomed the refreshing shower she considered to be the reward for her efforts. A reward cut short by the electronic tune she instantly recognised to be an incoming call on Skype.

“Richard…hang on…hang on…I’m coming.” Grabbing her towelling bathrobe she sat at the laptop and clicked ‘accept’. The screen came to life and the image of Richard appeared. “Richard, how are you?”

“Fine, fine, and you? Did you get up late?” he asked.

“No, I’ve just got out of the shower. Did my morning workout early, I’m in my bathrobe.”

“Lovely, show us you’re tits missus.”

“Richard, don’t be disgusting. What sort of woman do you think I am?” she said, in as prudish a manner as she could. “How’s it going there? Did you sort out the manufacturing problem with the main circuit board? See I was listening the other night.”

“Wow, I’m impressed. You were so nervous that I didn’t think you heard any of it. We redesigned the board to make it fit the original casing, so the problem’s sorted.”

“So you’ll be back on Thursday as planned?”

“Yes. Did you get in touch and arrange anything with Elizabeth?”

“I did, yes.”

“Did you manage to wait until my taxi had even gone round the corner before grabbing the phone to call her?”

“You know me so well don’t you, smart arse.”

“Well I thought I did but now I’m not so sure, but I’m learning.”

“Ha, ha. They’ve invited us for dinner on Thursday evening that should be okay shouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’m due to land at 10 in the morning so should be with you by lunchtime. Anyway, look I’ll have to go, got to meet some people in a few minutes. See you soon. Love you. Bye.”

“Love you too. Oh, Richard…” She pulled open her robe and flashed her boobs at the camera. ‘Slut’ was all she heard as his picture disappeared from the screen. She smiled, pleased with herself.

5

Kate and Richard arrived at the modest detached house a little earlier than planned. Neither of them had been there before and knew little of the area so they left plenty of time to avoid being late. The doorbell was answered almost immediately by a radiant Elizabeth, her red hair forming the perfect complement to her simple black dress and low heels. They exchanged greetings before Elizabeth showed them into the lounge where Robin waited to greet them. Kate had met him before of course but Richard needed to be introduced. After accepting the offer of drinks they chatted for a while, soon behaving as though they were old friends. Nobody mentioned the primary purpose of their visit.

During a natural lull in the conversation Robin broke the ice. “So you’re here to find out about our lifestyle and to see whether or not it might be for you, I believe?”

“Well, yes I suppose so,” Richard admitted, “but we wouldn’t dream of invading your privacy.”

“Oh, don’t worry on that score; we’re quite open under the right circumstances.”

“Lizzie, why don’t you tell Richard and Kate how we started?”

“Robin and I love what we do. When we first met I was no prude but hadn’t had much experience of sex and certainly nothing beyond what I would call conventional. I always knew there was something missing, but I didn’t know what it was, until this gorgeous man started to show me how different things could be.” She broke off from her dialogue and moved along the sofa a little to cuddle into Robin.

“He showed me that there were alternatives to the more conventional relationship. I always enjoyed the physical side but realising–and acknowledging–my submissive nature has added to what we already had. I’ve discovered what had always been there but I hadn’t realised it. What I wanted was to be submissive, I get pleasure from giving myself to Robin. Releasing it has made me feel so at ease; I have a sense of freedom that I didn’t have before. That sounds strange doesn’t it, saying that being controlled by someone else gives me a feeling of freedom, but it’s true. That’s why I love him so much.”

“It wasn’t all plain sailing of course,” Robin added, “you don’t just decide to do it one day and that’s that. There are ups and downs as there are in any relationship.”

Elizabeth chipped in, “I know he’ll never go too far with me, physically or mentally. Sometimes there’s pain of course but there’s also a lot of pleasure.”

“So in practical terms,” asked Richard “how did you start and then get to where you are now?”

“When I met Robin he spotted quite quickly what I hadn’t been able to see for myself, he saw my need to have somebody take control. He seemed to know what even I didn’t know and he gradually guided me through the stages of learning the “art of submission.” Even though I wanted him to take control, I still found it hard to let go and tended to hold on to just a little bit of power. I would be obstructive to show that I was still my own person. Of course he enjoyed teaching me otherwise, to show me that wasn’t acceptable, and I received punishments which were quite severe when I was particularly bad.”

“So you always do as he says whatever that is?” Kate asked.

“Oh no, don’t get me wrong. Robin has spent a long time training me to be his submissive, and I’ve accepted that he’s in complete control of my body and my sex life. But in all other ways I’m independent, make my own decisions and run my own life. The lifestyle we’ve chosen hasn’t held me back in any way, professionally or socially, in fact quite the opposite. I think I’m more confident and self-assured as a result. It takes a lot of strength and willpower to hand over the use of your body to somebody else. Of course I can stop at any time, I could say no. I am a free woman.” After a slight pause they all smiled at the irony of her last statement.

“I’m sure you’d like to see a demonstration of her obedience, wouldn’t you?” A horrified expression spread over Elizabeth’s face. She had no idea of where things were going or what Robin had planned. Richard and Kate were lost for words and both sat with a shocked look on their face. “Ah, I see that you would. Elizabeth, stand up.” She slowly got to her feet and stood before him. “Take off your clothes.” Kate immediately felt embarrassment for her friend and interrupted the proceedings.

“There’s no need really.”

“I know there’s no need Kate, but in this lifestyle a lot of things are done without a need, they’re done because we want to. In this case I want to embarrass Elizabeth in front of you. Of course she doesn’t want to strip naked, and display her body to you but she does want to please me by obeying and please herself by enjoying the humiliation. Isn’t that so Elizabeth?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Then continue.” Elizabeth slowly slid the thin straps off her shoulders and eased the close fitting dress down her body until it fell in a pool at her feet. She wore nothing underneath. Had she anticipated something like this or was she just not allowed underwear? Elizabeth stood with feet slightly apart and her hands behind her back. It wasn’t a natural pose to adopt and looked like the result of how she had been taught to stand under such circumstances. They both had to admire Elizabeth’s body. Perhaps a couple of years older than Kate herself but her lean figure belied her years.

“Very good, sit back down,” Robin said, patting the sofa next to him. As she watched her sit, Kate became more curious about the training which had got Elizabeth to such a level of obedience. The manner in which she moved and sat seemed to be second nature to her but was not normal female behaviour. She sat with her knees slightly parted and her hands on her thighs. Kate imagined that if she were made to sit in that pose she would find it impossible to resist the urge to cross one leg over the other and fold her arms over her breasts. She could only admire, and envy, Elizabeth’s willpower.

“What are we thinking Lizzie, neglecting our guests?” He turned to Kate and Richard. “You must be hungry, shall we go through?” They all moved to the dining room and took their seats at the immaculately laid table. Robin lit the candles in the central decoration then took responsibility for ensuring that wine glasses remained full. Elizabeth served the meal–naked.

During the meal Robin continued with their story. “About three years ago we learned, through some friends of Oakham’s existence. After some deliberation which I’m sure you’re both experiencing now, we decided to apply for membership and the rest as they say, is history.”

“But how does this group fit in with what you two have together?” asked Kate. “I mean, you seem quite happy with just the two of you.”

“Yes we are,” Robin said, “but as with all things people have a need to push themselves, go faster, higher, farther. You know the sort of thing.”

Elizabeth continued. “I came to love the feelings I got when Robin used me. I wanted him to push me further and do more outrageous things with me, and to me, the more disgraceful the better. I relished the challenge of showing him that I could cope with whatever he came up with.”

“You’re smiling Richard,” Robin observed, “Does that sound familiar?”

“I heard almost the same words spoken to me in an Italian Restaurant last week.” He looked at Kate who just sat and blushed.

“And that’s the problem you see, it was harder than you’d think to be the dominant partner who’s role included inventing new situations and scenarios which would test her submission and satisfy her needs. She likes to be presented with greater and greater challenges through which she can demonstrate her loyalty and obedience.”

“And this society provides that, satisfies that need?” enquired Kate.

“Oh yes, most definitely, you see Elizabeth’s a part time slave to the group and not permanently owned by them. I loan her to them on a regular basis and she obeys them as she would me. There are of course, severe consequences should I hear that her behaviour or service was anything less than exemplary. During the time she’s on loan there are any number of creative minds dreaming up new ways to humiliate and degrade her, which is just what she needs, isn’t it darling?”

“Yes sir.” Elizabeth replied not looking up from the table.

Kate could feel her heart thumping away in her chest, and convinced herself that they would all able to hear it. She also feared there would be signs of moisture on her dress when she stood up. It was just what she’d hoped for and dreamed of.

“That sounds like a big step to take. But how do you feel about…you know…being used by other men, Elizabeth?” Kate put the question directly to her in order to avoid a response from Robin.

“When we first decided to join Oakham, I foolishly hadn’t considered that being used by other people would enter into it. When the reality hit me I was horrified. I couldn’t imagine even being naked in front of someone else let alone being used by them, being used for sex I mean. Robin handing me over to other people just seemed so final to me, that he didn’t want me any more, and that he was fed up with me, that he wanted a change. But I soon saw the reality of it. He loves the power of owning me and being able to let others use me and then take me back. I know it’s hard for him to see me being abused and often in pain but the pride he feels overcomes that. He loves the looks of envy he gets from other members who have abused me as I’m ultimately returned to him, the owner. So the reality is that whatever I think about it doesn’t matter. He’s decided that I’ll be used by others as part of my slavery and by agreeing to be his, I’ve given him the right to make that decision. Now, I have no say in the matter, which is as it should be.”

Richard tried to absorb what he was hearing. How would he cope if Kate was in Elizabeth’s place? If she joined this group then surely the same rules would apply to them, Kate would be mistreated, hurt and sexually used by other people. Could she really do that, could she hand herself over to be treated in that way? If they went ahead, would he be needed at all? He couldn’t ‘train’ her as Robin had done with Elizabeth: he didn’t know how, or have the mind-set to carry it out. Shouldn’t he be putting an end to the whole thing, before it was too late?

“Robin, I hope you don’t mind me pushing the point further but I have some deep concerns about the issue of Kate being with other men. How do you cope with it?”

“Yes, I know just what you mean, and I pondered the issue long and hard myself.” Robin replied in a way which left Richard convinced that he had anticipated the question. “In reply, let me ask you a question. Would you be against Kate joining a Badminton or Bridge club?”

“Well, of course not, no.”

“Why not, she could meet somebody there and it drive a wedge between you two affecting your marriage.”

“But she wouldn’t, we’re happy together and she doesn’t need to look elsewhere.”

“Then you’ve answered your own question, just as I did mine. Lizzie being used at Oakham is no more, or less likely to cause a rift between us than any other activity, maybe less so as we do it together. In this case, I agree, the activity is based on sexual themes rather than sporting activity but the activity is the vehicle to achieve the desired goal not the goal itself.”

“Yes, I can see what you mean, but…” Robin could see that he remained unconvinced, so he continued.

“For us, as we said, the goal is satisfying Lizzie’s desire to be submissive and for me, the pleasure of seeing her being used and abused by others, solely because that’s what I want her to do.”

“So the jealousy thing doesn’t come into it then?” Kate asked.

“At first it took some getting used to, of course, but, think about it logically. Would a husband get jealous of his wife’s vibrator, just because it provided her with sexual satisfaction?” This brought a smile to their faces. “No, of course not, in our minds, the people using her are themselves being used, by us, for our own selfish reasons. They are just pawns in our game. If I order her to perform oral sex on another man, she’ll do it because she’s been ordered to, not because there’s any desire for him as a person.”

“I see what you mean.”

“Richard, a woman doesn’t have an affair between her legs; she has it in her head. If the activity between her legs is not emotionally attached to her brain then what provides the activity, and often pleasure, is of no consequence to her relationship. My initial thoughts of jealousy and wanting to tell the user to get away from my beautiful wife have now been replaced by thoughts of great pride. The urge now is resisting the urge to yell at them, ‘isn’t she beautiful, look how obedient she is, stare at her splendid body all you like because I know she loves me and I love her, and you can’t have her’. How many men have their love confirmed in such a forceful way on a regular basis?” Kate observed the look of devotion on Elizabeth’s face as Robin got more impassioned during his speech.

“Perversely, I’m convinced that my decision to share Elizabeth with others has brought us closer together.” As an afterthought he then added, “not that I would recommend that to others in less stable relationships, and certainly not in place of marriage counselling. God forbid, could you imagine that. ‘Doctor, my wife and I don’t seem as close as we were, what can we do?’ ‘Oh, just give her to some stranger for the night for a good shafting that should do the trick’.”

Robin paused, acting out a look of thoughtfulness. “Hm, actually Lizzie, I think I would make a good marriage guidance councillor.” The outburst of laughter seemed to suggest otherwise.

The responses from Robin and Elizabeth to their questions had gone a long way to easing the doubts Richard had ever since hearing of Kate’s wish to pursue this course of action. He had professed an eagerness to go along with it but still hoped that a major obstacle might emerge putting an end to the proceedings. This would appease his doubts and fears without him having to step in and end things, and remain forever the bad guy who stopped Kate from realising her dream. But, after what he had heard, he was unsure if he wanted it to stop. Perhaps they should take it a little further and see what happened; he could always be the bad guy later.

It was well after midnight when the evening drew to a close and they prepared to leave.

“If you want to get in touch, please do so, you have our number. We’re more than happy to answer any questions you may think of later.” The men shook hands and Kate gave the still nude Elizabeth a hug.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, OK?” Elizabeth told Kate. With final thanks for the meal, as well as their help and advice they departed.

In the taxi on the way home, Kate put a question to Richard. “Would you use another man’s wife if you were a member of that group?”

“I could do I suppose,” he tried to reply casually, giving away nothing through the tone of his voice.

“And would you be turned on by watching somebody use me?”

“I could be I suppose, under the right circumstances.”

“The idea doesn’t horrify you then?”

“The idea doesn’t no, but when, and if, it actually happened, I don’t know.”

Kate had the information she was after so she left it there.

Elizabeth called early the following morning. Kate wondered how she would be after last night’s ordeal of displaying herself, but, to her surprise, Elizabeth sounded quite normal and didn’t mention it. Kate asked if everything was okay, and checked that she had no regrets. Elizabeth made light of her ordeal and they both soon turned to immature giggling.

“Anyway, enough of me, what have you two decided to do?”

“We talked a lot when we got back last night and decided that if we let this opportunity pass, we’d regret never knowing how it would all turn out.”

“So that means you’ll need an application form then?”

“Yes, I suppose so, but we don’t even know who these people are.”

“Nobody does until they have an application accepted, then you get to meet them. They value their privacy and they respect the privacy of their members. What I’ll do is e-mail you a link to their on-line applications, read it all carefully and return it when you’re happy.”

“And that’s it?” Kate asked, surprised that it was that straight forward.

“That’s it, until you get accepted of course, then the hard bit starts.”

“Right, hey, thanks for everything, and I’ll see you Monday when you drop off those new paintings.”

“No problem, bye”

6

The day wouldn’t pass quickly enough for Kate. Desperate to see the application form, she had furtively logged on to her private e-mail account numerous times. Finally though, there it was, waiting in the inbox. She was impressed with the professional looking web page which held it and had a quick scan through. The categories covered a much wider field than she expected, requesting some very personal information. But then, it wasn’t an application for a standard career move. If she was accepted she would need to get accustomed to people invading her privacy. The unexpected return of Helen flustered her into closing the window in the guiltiest fashion. She and Richard would sort it out later.

“It’s detailed isn’t it?” Richard stated with some degree of panic.

“I know, I had a quick look this afternoon at the gallery. I’ll get us both a drink and then we’ll see what we can do. Gin and Tonic?”

“Yes please.”

As soon as she returned, Richard was pleased to inform her that he had completed the first part.

“Really? Let’s see.” She sat next to him and peered at the screen. “Oh brilliant, Name: Catherine Adams. You idiot.”

“My father always said…”

“I know.” She repeated the often used phrase in the usual mocking tone whilst rocking her head from side to side in perfect synchronisation with the words. “The hardest part of any job is making a start.”

“And he was right. Now let’s see…” The first section covered the usual application data, name, age, marital status, education, present employment etc. and was soon filled in. In the medical history section they divulged the partial hysterectomy Kate had undergone many years ago, long before meeting Richard. Whilst traumatic at the time, the physical condition passed more quickly than coming to terms with the knowledge that she would never bear children. One section came as a shock–sexual history. They had to declare her sexual background.

“That’s a bit personal,” exclaimed Kate.

“For what you’re applying for there is no personal,” Richard reminded her.

“But what am I going to put? Met Richard got married and had sex? I’ll look a right prude”

“Oh, Thanks.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that, there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just that on an application for something like this, it…well it doesn’t look very adventurous does it.”

“I see what you mean. But look at it from another angle. If they get an application from somebody who’s ‘been around a bit’ and done all sorts of things they might think they’re applying just for a giggle, or to broaden their experience, with no real commitment. But from your background they’ll know that if you’re applying for this, it must mean a lot to you.” Kate was thoughtful for a few seconds taking in Richard’s assessment of the question.

“Yeah, you’re right. Besides we can’t lie and make up a load of stuff anyway.”

A note on the end of the form asked for an up to date photograph. Ironically this turned out to be the most difficult part. Had it been an application for a position as an office worker, there would be no problem, attach a passport style portrait photo. But what do you attach to an application to become a sex slave? There were no clues on the form. No mention of clothing or nude? Full body or portrait? Face showing or not? The more they discussed the options the more convinced they became that this was an important decision to which there seemed to be no straight forward answer. Clothed and you were a prude; naked and you were brazen. Full body you were an exhibitionist; portrait and you were ashamed of your body. Eventually the decision was made to crop Kate out from a holiday snap taken in Rome the previous Easter. The tight fitting summer dress showed her figure, and the sunglasses hid her eyes. Richard attached the prepared photo.

“Right, that’s it Mrs. Adams. All you have to do is click on the send button.” Kate took the mouse from Richard and hovered the pointer over the blue rectangle containing the word send–but she didn’t press.

“Are you sure you want to do this? Once we send it we can’t get it back.” Kate needed that final confirmation.

“Yes, go on do it,” he encouraged.

“No you do it…please. If I do it and it all goes wrong you’ll blame me for applying.”

“Well if I do it and it goes wrong you’ll say I pushed you into it by applying for you.” Realising the stupidity of the discussion they both laughed at themselves, and came up with the best compromise available. Toss a coin. Richard lost and clicked send.

7

Richard spent most of Sunday helping Kate move the heavy exhibition stands from the upstairs store room down into the gallery. They bolted the boards onto the supporting poles and decided on the perfect layout which would show the work to best advantage. Despite the problems with the installation of the new lighting system they had to agree that it made a vast difference to the presentation of the artwork and, in the end, well worth the frustrating week spent with Harry and Keith.

The main topic of conversation however, constantly reverted back to the application and its repercussions. They discussed the numerous paths it might lead them along. The endless “what ifs” were considered but they laid their concerns to rest deciding that for the time being it was all out of their hands if not their minds.

Monday, opening day of the exhibition. The strong morning sun began to creep around the tall buildings on the opposite side of the street as Kate unlocked the door of the gallery. She knew Helen would be pleased to see the boards already set up making redundant the task of hauling them all down the narrow staircase. All of the artwork had arrived before the weekend, as promised by the artists, leaving Kate and Helen with only the hanging and labelling. As was normal on the day of an opening, the gallery was closed to the public while the set-up took place. They were not restricted to specific business hours making it a pleasant break from the normal routine, and one which they both enjoyed. Within 10 minutes Helen had arrived and was indeed pleased to see the hard work done.

“Kate, this is brilliant, I assume it was you and Richard?”

“Yeah, we did it yesterday.”

“You should have rung me; I would have come and helped.”

“We know you would, and that’s why we didn’t. I’ve left things to you a bit lately so it was my way of saying thanks.” Helen gave her a warm hug.

“You’re the best, but I’m supposed to do all the stuff around here. You employ me, remember? You’re the boss.”

“Well it doesn’t seem like that, but, yeah, you’re right, so get out there and make two cups of tea, and be quick about it.”

“Yes sir.” Helen said, whilst giving a salute, before heading off to make the tea.

By midday all the pictures were in place, and it looked good.

“Kate, this label doesn’t match this painting.”

“Doesn’t it? Oh sorry, I’ll sort it out.” She took the offending label over to the desk and sat down to print a replacement, Helen joined her.

“Kate are you okay? You’ve moved these pictures around endless times, you’ve said hardly anything all morning and now you’re labelling them wrong, that’s not like you.”

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing wrong, honestly, I’m just a little preoccupied that’s all. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“You’re not rude, don’t be silly, but this is Helen, your best friend, the one who knows when you have something on your mind. Do you want to tell me about it?”

It was exactly what Kate had dreaded. She didn’t want to lie to Helen, they always shared their secrets, but she also didn’t want to tell her the truth and, at best, have Helen think badly of her and at worst leave her disgusted. Kate knew Helen wouldn’t stop pestering her until she gave her something to satisfy her and stop her worrying. Kate decided to tell her just a little bit of the truth to fend her off.

“Look, it’s just gone twelve and we’ve got things sorted here, apart from some bits, so why don’t we go for a nice long early lunch and finish this later, my treat.”

“Oh well, if you’re paying, who am I to argue with the boss, come on.”

As it was so early their favourite table at the café was free. It was Kate’s ideal table. In the corner where nobody was behind you, away from the counter so nobody was pushing past and by the window, making it ideal for people watching. Being a creature of habit Kate always felt some resentment when strangers had taken “her” table.

They spent a long time deciding what to order, the relatively few items on the menu seemed to make the task more difficult. Kate placed the order, paid and returned to the table.

“So, come on then, don’t think that I’ve forgotten. What’s ruffled the feathers of the unflappable Mrs. Adams?” Here goes, Kate thought, let’s get it over with.

“Helen, promise me you’ll keep this to yourself.”

“You know I will, silly, go on.” Her impatience began to show.

Kate had mentally rehearsed what to say many times using various openings but had now forgotten her best option, so she swallowed hard and made a start.

“I want to share this with you,” she said, then quickly added, “but I don’t want you to judge me, okay?”

“Of course I won’t, what on earth have you done?”

“Nothing, nothing at all, it’s what I’m going to do actually, well, hopefully.”

“Kate, what are you talking about?”

“You know last year, when we all went to that bar in town, the sleazy place by the station?”

“And had way too much to drink? Oh, do I ever, my head pounded for days.” Helen recalled the incident with a laugh.

“Yes, that’s the one, and I’d had so much I started telling you about me and Richard and what we got up to, you know, in the bedroom.”

“Yes, when he tied you to the bed and had his evil way with you? You haven’t done it again have you, you little hussy you.”

“Will you take this seriously; it’s hard enough for me as it is.”

“Sorry, really, I’m all ears.” Helen pulled an imaginary zip across her lips.

“Well, as it happens, we have on several occasions, if you must know, and that’s the problem.”

“What do you mean? Did he go too far and hurt you?”

“No, he didn’t. That’s the problem.”

“I don’t get it, what’s the problem?”

“It’s just that, the fact that he didn’t go far enough.” Helen looked at her with a blank expression, trying to understand what she was being told.

“So,” Kate continued “I’m going to take it further.”

“What, you’re going to have an affair, cheat on Richard? Helen paused for thought. “You wouldn’t do that would you?”

“No, don’t be silly, I would never do that, Richard knows about this and is part of it.” Helen’s previously shocked face turned to one of confusion. Kate made use of Helen’s speech deficiency to continue. “We’ve talked about it a lot, and now an opportunity has come up where we can explore some of our fantasies for real.” She then paused to await the inevitable reaction.

“I don’t get it, what are you telling me?”

“I told you, on that drunken night that I had these fantasies about being, well, submissive to another person and doing what they say, being used by them. The problem is that Richard loves me too much to be able to treat me how I’m treated in my fantasies, so…we’ve taken the first step to having that role carried out by other people.”

She paused again, and waited the age it took for it to sink in. Kate hoped that Helen understood what she was telling her and didn’t react in a negative manner.

“What do you mean, ‘that role carried out by other people,’ and who are these ‘other people’?” Phew, Kate thought, that was better than expected; questions were far preferable than being met with disdain. Helen continued. “Let me get this straight. You want to have a group of people tell you what to do?”

“Yes.”

“Do what sort of things?”

“Whatever they want, but mainly, I suppose, sexual things.”

“And who are these people?”

“Well, we don’t actually know yet.”

“Is this some sort of wind-up? You know, make Helen look a twit day.”

“Helen, I would never do that.” To clarify the story and convince Helen of its authenticity Kate recalled the events to date but, concealed Elizabeth’s identity.

“So you’ve applied to become a member of a group, who will do whatever they want to you, and basically use you as some sort of sex object?”

“I suppose that’s about it, yes.”

“Kate, that’s dangerous, and just, I don’t know, sick.”

“That’s one point of view I suppose.”

“Has Richard forced you into this?”

“No, not at all, he’d never do that; in fact it’s more like the other way round.”

“Kate I don’t believe this,” Helen said, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call you a feminist but you want what’s right for women, your independent, in control and strong. Why would you want to join this…thing?”

“Just because of all those things you’ve just mentioned, I get a thrill out of giving up that control, letting go, and doing as I’m told. I’m a grown woman who knows what she’s doing–I think–and I’m willing to take the risk of finding out if this is the right thing for me.”

“And you’re doing this of your own free will, yeah; you’re not being blackmailed or something? People like you don’t do things like this, you’re…well…you’re normal.” Helen seemed to be getting more desperate to find a reason for Kate’s actions, anything but to come to terms with the fact that this is what her prim and proper, straight laced, best friend, really wanted.

“No, I assure you that it is what I want, what we both want. This is for real Helen, and I am normal, we both are. Normal people do this sort of stuff all the time look at all the porn sites on the Internet, you can buy whatever you want to do with sex, see whatever you want and meet whoever you want, people love this stuff. Look at all the sites of ‘normal’ housewives in the nude and doing all sorts of other things, it’s just that they’ve decided to live out their fantasies and we haven’t.”

“But it’s just not you–what people like you do.”

“I know that, and that’s the problem; Mother Nature decides who has what feelings, emotions and urges, but society seems to have decided who’s allowed to act on them. Just because it’s not seen as the sort of thing a middle aged, middle class woman like me should be doing doesn’t make the urges go away. It just means that it’ll be harder for me to get over the moral barriers.”

Helen’s voice softened “You might be right, but why now, you’re 42, when did you suddenly start to want this?”

“Oh it’s not sudden; I’ve always felt like it, I suppose I was born like it. I just didn’t know what ‘it’ was. I remember when I was little, I got a kick out of being the captive when we played and getting excited about princesses being locked in towers, that sort of thing. In later years, as I became more aware I started to look out for that sort of material, and with the dawning of the Internet, well, whatever you want to know is there at your fingertips. The feelings, fantasies and needs seem to get stronger as you absorb more material and here I am, at the point of being ready to do something about it.” Helen picked up her glass and finished her drink before replying.

“I understand what you mean; at least I think I do. But have you thought it through, the consequences?”

“Helen, we’ve talked it to death. Every possible scenario we can think of, and still we’ve decided to apply to this group. I mean, we may be turned down and that’s an end to it, or we may be lucky and then we’ll have to see what happens.”

“So if it’s not finalised, why are you telling me this now? You might not get the offer and then I’d have been none the wiser.”

“You’re my best friend and I don’t want to keep things from you. But more selfishly I’ve been so excited about it, I just had to tell somebody. Anyway I don’t mind you knowing, I’m not ashamed of how I feel.”

“Do you think that you could go through with it, if they take you on?”

“I suppose I won’t know until I try but I’ll give it a real go. Do what I’m told, accept orders, the whole thing.”

“What if they want you to do things that you’re not willing to do, can you just say no?”

“I don’t know, but it would defeat the whole point a bit wouldn’t it. There can’t be much demand for a submissive who won’t follow orders.”

Helen’s face brightened and she gave her first smile since the start of Kate’s story.

“I suppose not.”

“You won’t be able to do it you know, it’s just not you, taking orders and stuff. You’ll be out of there like a shot.”

“Well perhaps they’ll be into bondage as well so that’ll solve that problem won’t it.”

“Kate, behave.” Kate was relieved that Helen at least seemed to have accepted the situation, even if she didn’t concede to it.

It seemed a good time to make the break from lunch and return to the gallery to finish off the preparations for the opening. Little more was said on the subject during the afternoon but Kate could see that Helen was deep in thought about the whole thing. Kate hoped she wouldn’t worry about her too much.

8

The worst part about submitting an application, in any situation, is the waiting. Once it’s handed in it’s out of your hands. Then the negative thought process kicks in. Why haven’t I heard? Could it be left under a pile of papers on somebody’s desk? They’ve had so many to go through, I don’t stand a chance. I would have heard by now if I was successful. Perhaps they got the address wrong etc. etc. Kate was no exception.

On Thursday morning the constant checking of Emails finally paid off. Of the four new arrivals nestling in her inbox, the one entitled ‘Oakham’ caught her eye. That’s it, she thought, it must be! Her shaking hand moved the mouse over the icon and clicked ‘open’. Trying hard to control her mounting excitement she carefully read the contents.

Mr. & Mrs. Adams,

Following a meeting of the Oakham selection panel, you have been invited to a meeting on Monday 12th August at 4.00pm.

Please confirm your intention to attend the meeting by phone.

See attachment for details.

Grace Edwards

Oakham.

Kate opened the attachment which contained an address and mobile phone number. The formality of the letter came as a surprise, no Dear before Mr. & Mrs. Adams and no pleasantries, thank you for your application etc. But then again, the whole process was not quite what Helen would call ‘normal’.

“Oh wow, we’ve done it, we’ve done it, we’ve done it.” Kate called out loud, jigging up and down on her chair.

“You’ve done what?” Helen asked. Kate had got so carried away in her excitement that she’d forgotten about Helen being in the room.

“I’ve just heard from the group I was telling you about, and we’ve been invited to a meeting on Monday afternoon. Oh, would it be alright if I went early and left things here to you?”

“Kate, stop asking me, you’re the boss, you come and go as you please,” then added, “but I’ll tell you again, think very carefully about this, I think it’s a big mistake and could lead to trouble.”

“I know, and I appreciate you looking out for me, but it’s something I have to do.”

9

After checking that Richard was able to get away from work early on Monday to attend the meeting, Kate called the number they had been given. The woman who answered, Grace Edwards she assumed, was polite but formal, just like the letter. After confirming that Kate and Richard would be there, that they had the correct address and knew the time, she informed her that parking was available should they wish to drive. Then, with a swift goodbye, she ended the call.

Numerous times over the weekend Kate had gone into their bedroom and covered the bed with clothing, trying to decide what to wear for the meeting. What to wear for a job interview was straight forward; you wore the type of clothing which would be expected of somebody who held the job for which you were applying–easy. This was different, what do people who want to be sex slaves wear? After trying various combinations she concluded that none were just right. They were all too formal, too plain or too sluttish. She would decide on Monday.

The final choice of what to wear couldn’t be put off any longer; the time when they would have to leave for the meeting was drawing ever closer. There was nothing else for it: she would have to seek Richard’s opinion and as usual he made it seem so straight forward.

“You had the same dilemma with the information on the application form and with the photo. Your solution was to be yourself, so do the same again. It’s got you this far so stick with it. What will you feel comfortable in? What will be formal enough for daytime without being too casual? And what will make you look good? I would think a skirt, blouse and light jacket.”

“Shit, Richard. I’ve spent ages in here, and now you just stroll in and state the bloody obvious. You must have some female genes, how do you know these things?” she said with a mock anger.

“I don’t know, after years of being right it’s just habit I guess.”

“Oh get out and leave me to it.” She flung a pillow at him as he left.

Kate eventually decided on her deep blue suit. The skirt ended just above the knee, so not too short, and the material was fairly lightweight which would be ideal for what was still quite a warm day.

She started with her expensive underwear, chosen mainly for the bra as the lacy straps may be seen though the white blouse, if she became hot enough to remove her jacket. The shoes were black, plain with medium heels, not too high to be showy but high enough to shape her leg muscles to best advantage. She had thought about stockings or tights but felt it safer to stick with the bare leg look.

The outfit needed little in the way of accessories. Her wedding ring and a thin bracelet were enough. She took her time over applying her make-up; she didn’t need much so she was careful not to overdo it for a daytime meeting. The nails were already manicured and painted red–all set. She left the bedroom and joined Richard, who was waiting in the lounge. On seeing her enter he stood.

“Wow, you look wonderful, turn around, and let me have a good look.”

“Why thank you kind sir.” Kate gave a twirl.

“You look great, it’s a done deal. Come on or we’ll be late.”

Once more Kate confirmed the Bayswater address from the printout.

“If this is it, they must have some money behind them.” she said, looking up admiringly at the large, pillared, Georgian property.

“Wow, that is impressive,” Richard agreed, “there’s space here look.” He parked the car.

They climbed the granite steps past the basement’s old sash windows and reached the black, glossy, front door. Next to the bell push was a small, highly polished brass plaque with a single word inscription–Oakham.

“Here we are then, are you sure about this?”

“Never been more sure, and you?” Kate replied.

“We can’t waste three days of effort making you look that gorgeous, come on.” Richard pressed the bell. A voice from the grill below invited them to enter. A loud click coincided with the door opening slightly in-wards. Richard pushed the heavy door and stepped aside letting Kate pass.

The inside of the building was as impressive as the outside and reminded Kate of a very expensive hotel. The original hallway had been converted to a reception area housing a desk behind which sat a mature, attractive lady. On seeing them enter she stopped what she was doing at her computer, rose from her seat and made her way round the desk to greet them.

“Mr. and Mrs. Adams?” she enquired.

“Yes, that’s right, sorry we’re a little early.” Kate apologised.

“That’s no problem, I’m Grace Edwards, Mr. Weston’s assistant, pleased to meet you.” She offered her hand to both. Kate was relieved to see that the woman wasn’t nearly as formal as she appeared to be from the correspondence.

“Mr. Weston’s just finishing a meeting with some gentlemen, he’ll be with you shortly, please take a seat. Would you like some refreshment, tea, coffee, water?”

“No thank you.” Kate replied, lowering herself into one of the soft, leather sofas. She was nervous enough without topping up on tea, which would make it certain that she would have to ask to use the toilet.

As they sat waiting, Kate observed the receptionist going about her duties. Perhaps early fifties, of medium height, but looked taller due to the heels she wore. The skirt of her grey suit came to just above the knee. She wore matching opaque grey hose and a white blouse. Her hair had been held up in an old fashioned bun, completing her look of the efficient office manager.

After waiting only a few minutes a door to the side of the reception area opened and three gentlemen appeared. Judging from the overheard conversation, their meeting had been a success and they departed with positive handshakes. Kate assumed the remaining man to be Graham Weston. He stood quite tall, slim and perhaps late fifties, judging by the greying hair on his temples. Quite an attractive man she thought. The receptionist spoke to him briefly before he introduced himself to Richard and Kate.

“Hello.” He said, shaking Richard’s hand. “Sorry to keep you waiting, I’m Graham Weston, pleased to meet you.”

“Think nothing of it, we were a little early. I’m Richard Adams and this is my wife, Catherine.”

“Ah, yes, pleased to meet you Catherine. Do come through to the office.”

The door from the reception area led to a long, wide, wood panelled corridor decorated with what looked to Kate like expensive, abstract paintings. It was all very impressive. Graham Weston’s office was through the first door on the left.

The bright and airy room had ample daylight flooding in through a pair of French doors which looked out onto an informal, well established garden. The traditional décor gave the impression of class without shouting it. Two maroon leather chesterfield sofas and the biggest oak desk either of them had ever seen, failed to fill the enormous space. The beige carpet gave an air of luxury often seen in the top hotels, and a large floor standing clock quietly ticked away in one corner. The only visible concession to modern technology was a laptop computer sitting on the desk. They were offered two padded leather chairs which matched the sofas, and sat down. It pleased Kate to see that Mr. Weston didn’t sit behind the large desk and play the intimidation games she’d learnt of at the law firm. Instead he pulled up a chair and faced them on their side of the desk.

A knock on the open door announced the arrival of his assistant bearing a tray containing liquid refreshments, biscuits, plates and napkins. The hospitality was impressive.

“Ah, thank you so much, Grace. That will be all for now. We’ll call you when we’re ready.”

“Refreshments Catherine, Richard?”

“No, not at the moment thank you,” her nerves now making the need for a toilet break even more likely.

“Me neither, thank you.”

“Well, just help yourself, any time. Right then, let’s make a start. You’ve made an application to join us and we’ve invited you here for us both to get a better idea of what that would involve, and ultimately, for you to decide if you wish to continue. Correct?”

“Yes that’s about it,” Richard confirmed.

“What I’ll do is outline what we do here and how we operate, then you ask away with any questions you may have. But please do stop me for clarification at any time if you wish.”

“Great, thank you.” Kate managed this time. She was determined not to just sit there like an idiot, but it wasn’t working so far.

“We’re always eager to introduce new members to the group, but women who possess the characteristics we’re looking for combined with the appropriate temperament and personal qualities are few and far between. Don’t get me wrong though, surprisingly we have many more applicants than we could handle but, due to the nature of the role we’re very particular about who we accept. We only consider applications on the recommendation of an existing member, and you came highly recommended by Elizabeth and Robin. Similarly all group members go through a rigorous application process to make sure that they’re of the correct standing. We’re very conscious of the safety and well-being of all involved.”

“That sounds most reassuring.” Richard chipped in.

“Oakham only recruits women able to meet the very demanding requirements of our members, and, at the same time, meet the equally important needs of the ladies themselves. Whilst on that point, you may have noticed that the application form did not contain a section asking why you want to join us and why you’re the best person in the world to fill the role, as in your standard job application. The role is not a job and this is not an interview.”

“Mr. Weston, the application obviously asked for my age and I was a little concerned that I may be considered older than ideal for this.”

“My dear Catherine, our preferred age range is more mature rather than younger. We prefer to recruit women with experience. Many of our applicants are too young and lack life experience. Not all, we do have younger members, but few possess an appeal and grace which develops over time. We need ladies who know how to dress and present themselves for specific occasions and who can hold an intelligent conversation in any company.”

Kate wasn’t sure about knowing the correct dress code following this morning’s problem but was confident that she could hold her own with the second point.

“The younger ladies who apply to us, and are accepted, tend to be used on a more part time basis, and are given duties lasting an evening, or a weekend, until they’ve displayed the qualities we’re looking for with the more in-depth role. So Catherine, you should have no worries on that score, you’re in the ideal age range.”

“I’m pleased to hear it, thank you.”

Richard put in a question. “Mr. Weston, Kate’s a strong willed, independent woman, could that prove to be a problem?” Kate turned to look at Richard, impressed and flattered.

“Good point, Mr. Adams.”

Richard interrupted him. “Richard, please, Mr. Adams sounds so formal.”

“My apologies, Richard, you’re quite correct. In answer to your question, I would say this. We have in our group, a variety of people to call upon who will ‘adjust’ a strong will and keep it under firm control. Indeed many see such a situation as a challenge to be overcome rather than a problem to avoid. Such situations can be most enjoyable for all involved.”

“I see, thank you.”

“Strong willed, intelligent women such as your wife here are highly sought after, Richard. They require equally strong treatment to give them what they need–an experience which reaches right inside them and satisfies those deep desires which have lain dormant for so long. And I assure you that once those intelligent and independent ladies have given in completely to their desires they become the most desirable creatures imaginable, capable of doing things even they never dreamed they would. The more degrading their treatment the more their bodies and minds demand.”

“That all sounds a little scary” Kate said, trying to be truthful.

“Of course it does at this point in time, it’s supposed to, but with the right help and training anything is possible. And I have to say, I’m glad to hear you express your reservations; it demonstrates your intelligence. We’re not looking for unthinking dolly birds, eager to put their bodies to use, we want well-trained ladies who are obedient and well behaved because they want to be.”

“Mr. Weston, how far would you go to force them to carry out orders?”

“There’s a misconception in your question Catherine. We don’t force anybody to do anything. None of the ladies have to do this and are free to stop at any time. They willingly choose to be with us and accept, with that free will, whatever is done to them or with them. Ironically the slave is in control of what happens simply by having the ability to leave. But, if they do leave the decision is final, and they can have no further contact with the group. However, choosing to remain with us means that they are in control of nothing, we have control of how they dress, what they do, when they do it and who they do it with. To offer oneself totally in this way, without conditions, takes a great deal of courage and personal confidence. Do you think you have those?”

“Well, I think so–I hope so.” Kate hesitated, suddenly unsure of herself, it was getting to be all too real and a little daunting.

“I’ve every confidence in her ability to meet your needs, Mr. Weston, she possesses those qualities in abundance and I’m very proud of her.”

Richard’s little speech took Kate by surprise and she looked sideways to see him give her a slight nod and reassuring smile. Grateful of his support she instantly felt more confident.

“Right, referring to your application form it appears that you’re in good health and of sound mind. Is that correct?”

“Yes, well I’m in good health, but there are people who would question the sound mind bit if they could see me sitting here discussing these things.”

“Quite, but what we’re seeking here is confirmation that you’re able to cope with the demands of the training and your subsequent use, which can be hard, on the body and the mind.”

“As far as I’m aware, I’m as fit and mentally stable as the next woman, so I don’t foresee any problems there.”

“Excellent.”

“Now, there was also a response in the medical section concerning a partial hysterectomy.”

“Yes, but it was many years ago and hasn’t been an issue.”

“I see, does that also mean that there are no issues with monthly cycles or risk of pregnancy?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And you’re financially stable?” Weston broke off from his questioning and lowered his papers. “I apologise for asking the question and it’s not my intention to pry into your personal affairs but you must understand that you would be in contact with some very powerful and wealthy people and gain intimate knowledge which could be used for criminal purposes.”

“I assure you,” Richard replied, “that we’re sufficiently well off to resist the temptation to do a little moonlighting.”

“Wonderful, I’m glad to hear it.” He gave a quick laugh.

“And one final point, you are able to choose your working hours to some extent in order to be free during a normal working day?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Well, you seem to be an ideal applicant from our point of view. But, before we go any further, I’d like to know how you feel about things. You see we’re very conscious of privacy and would like to keep knowledge of our activities confined to as small a group of people as possible. So, if after what you’ve heard so far, you think this is not for you then we’ll terminate our meeting and leave it at that.”

Richard and Kate turned to look each other in the eye, both trying to determine the thought process of the other. Kate knew that she was very keen to go ahead but would respect Richards wishes if he thought it was more than he could handle. Richard, in turn, still had his doubts but could read the pleading, hopeful look in her eyes which opposed the indifferent look she was attempting to keep on her face. A very slight nodding of his head put her mind at rest.

“I think that we’re both happy to go ahead and take this to the next stage,” Kate said, as she reached across to take hold of Richard’s hand.

“And Richard, what’s your view?”

“I’m willing to see how it develops, for as long as I think that Kate’s coming to no harm and is in no real danger.”

“Excellent, now, how about some tea or coffee?”

“Let me tell you about the set-up and workings of our organisation. Oakham is a registered company listed under the category of ‘Leisure’. We’re part of a larger group of companies who operate independently but where possible to the mutual benefit of the whole group. We’re self-financing, and very profitable as it happens, the envy of most other companies in the group. We have our own ‘leisure facilities’ in the form of a members club here in London–The Boardroom and a residential facility in Surrey–Oakham Manor. Keeping things on a small scale reduces the possibility of problems arising when keeping our activities private. Discretion is rule number one.”

“Is it always the same structure, with men controlling women?” asked Richard, out of curiosity more than anything else.

“In our set-up, yes. There is another group which functions in a similar manner to us who do operate with women being the dominant party. However from past experience we’ve come to the conclusion that it’s far simpler to separate the two.”

“And how are the women treated by the members in ‘normal’ life? “Kate disliked using the word normal but could not think of an alternative.

“Good point Catherine. The women are the most valuable asset the company has, without them we would have no future. Giving yourself for others to use as they wish takes courage and an inner strength which many of the members will never possess. In recognition of that the members treat them with the greatest courtesy and respect,” he paused and then added, “when they’re not on active duty of course.”

“And do you ever have problems with people taking things too far, going over the top?”

“The members are successful people and most have stable family lives, therefore they wouldn’t want to do anything which would affect either of those. Should we ever have a problem it would be dealt with swiftly and decisively. It’s incredible what repercussions a group of these people can initiate. We take our obligations seriously and do all we can to look after the needs of the ladies inside the society and do nothing which would adversely affect their lives outside.”

“How do you ensure that the women get what they want, or need, out of this and are not just used for the titillation of men?” Kate was again impressed with Richard’s line of questioning.

“We aim to help the ladies discover what they want from this, develop into the person they want to be, and finally, achieve their goal, whatever that may be. Some ladies come to us knowing what they want and others come to find out what it is they want. When, and if, that goal is reached we have the means to sustain her passion for the lifestyle and push her boundaries just a little further, I suppose there is no real end.

“Catherine, freely and totally giving yourself over for the use of others is a very brave thing to do. Even admitting to having those needs is brave, but to sit here and indicate your willingness to actually do something about it is commendable. Strange as it may sound, our women are looked up to and admired by those who use and abuse them. The abuser has the immediate control but the ladies have the ultimate power, the ability to end it all, by saying no. If the group loses sight of their needs that is indeed what will happen.”

“How would Kate’s role within the group differ from that of Elizabeth’s?” Richard asked, “I mean, her and Robin both have their roles in this type of relationship whereas, with me, Kate doesn’t have somebody to provide her with what she needs.”

“Elegantly put Richard.” Weston nodded his approval, then continued. “We have two groups of women…” he stopped momentarily and then came to a conclusion, “look, let’s not be politically correct here any longer, these women are the group’s slaves, consensual slaves yes, but property none the less. So, we have two groups of slaves, he emphasised the word for impact, private slaves and group slaves. Elizabeth is a private slave, which means that she’s owned by Robin and is loaned to the group on a regular basis. Robin decides on when and how she’ll be used. We have many such slaves in that role. The other type is a group slave, these are owned by the group and it is the group who decides on their use and has control of them. Many of these women are single or in relationships where the partner is unable to provide the guidance and discipline they need. Some even have partners who have no interest and take no part in the activities but are happy to let her participate–almost as a kind of hobby or pastime.”

“So I would be a group slave?” Kate asked, even using the words gave her a thrill. “And what would that mean in practical terms?”

“It means that we would decide when, where and with whom you would participate in group events. You’d be required to undergo a course of training in order to acquire the necessary skills needed to carry out your duties. You would then be made available for selection by members, either for their personal use or to be used in group activities.”

“I see.” It gets better and better, she thought, it was all her dreams coming to fruition.

“How long is the training and how often would a slave be expected to provide their services?” Richard wanted to know.

“Catherine would carry out her training here in London on a part time basis. This would probably take two to three weeks; some are quicker learners than others of course. After that group slaves are made available for the use of members perhaps twice a week.”

“How does all this get organised?”

“Slaves are given assignments which they are expected to fulfil. Of course things crop up; people get ill, have accidents, monthly cycles starting early and so on. We take these into account and change the slave’s agenda. Slaves have no choice in the assignments they are given and cannot refuse one, that would be breaking the terms of her contract and she would be expelled from the group. Failure to perform well on an assignment would result in the slave being severely punished. Oakham insists on obedience from its slaves and has the means to make sure it gets it.”

Kate soon realised that points which had cropped up during the meeting would have sent out warning signals to normal, sensible people, it was heavy stuff. However, all that she’d heard and the moisture between her legs was a strong indication that she was staying put, it was getting exciting.

There was a long pause while all the information sank in. Weston then seemed to have finished his dialogue.

“So in summary, and to make sure that we’re all clear, if you wish to continue you will have to sign a contract essentially making you the property of the group. After that you’ll be trained in preparation to be used as a slave by our members and whoever else we choose to share you with. You may break the agreement and quit, but that would be permanent.”

“Well that seems clear, yes.” Was all Kate could think of saying, but that was better than Richard who just sat and nodded.

“Good. You may not always be engaged in your duties but the influence of the group will always be there with you, in your thoughts, how you’re dressed, in the anticipation of what’s to come. It will be a permanent reminder of the fact that you willingly gave yourself to us. The activities you’d take part in would in no way, be allowed to come between you and Richard, indeed we would hope to be allowed the opportunity act as mentors to you Richard in the hope that you’ll take an active role in helping Kate realise her ambitions. You should never feel threatened by our actions and rest assured that Kate will not be permanently harmed, nor will she be permanently marked without your approval.”

What on earth did that last sentence mean? Kate decided not to ask, all would become clear. She summed up in her own mind all that she had just heard. These people want to train me to be a sex slave, make me do whatever they want and share me with whomever they want. If I don’t do it properly I’ll be severely punished, and now, they want to get Richard on board to help them do it. That sounds fair enough. I’ve had worse days.

“Well, unless you have any further questions, that seems to be that,” concluded Weston. “So, if you wouldn’t mind standing please, Catherine.” Kate suddenly looked confused, was she being kicked out? She slowly rose from her chair and straightened her skirt.

“And please undress.”

“What! here?”

“Catherine, learning to do as you’re told is something which can be achieved through obedience or through punishment, it’s your choice. Now, please undress.”

Kate’s eyes flicked across to Richard for help. The slight nod of his head was enough to assure her that he was happy for her to comply. For a brief moment she stood still, unsure of what to do, she hadn’t expected anything like that so soon.

The shift in tone of Weston’s voice had left her with a feeling of unease. He was no longer the matter of fact conveyor of information but a stern authoritarian testing her. The nervous shaking didn’t help her ability to complete the task with any grace. Being insecure about her body made her reluctant to comply, but she knew if she didn’t she would have failed: she’d have fallen at the first hurdle.

As Kate’s heart continued to beat rapidly in her chest and her face flushed red she slowly reached for the buttons of her jacket. With shaking hands the jacket was removed and carefully placed on her chair. The smaller buttons of her blouse were more of a problem but eventually the blouse joined the jacket. After releasing the button and zip of the skirt she slowly slid it down her long legs and, with as much elegance as she could manage, stepped out of it, picked it up and placed it over the chair.

Despite the embarrassing situation she was in Kate’s first thoughts were how pleased she was with her decision that morning to go with the expensive, sexy underwear. How much more embarrassing would it have been to be standing there in big knickers and a tatty bra. Oh the vanity of woman, she scolded herself. Once he could see her body she hoped that would be as far as she would have to go. She paused and looked at him for approval. It was not forthcoming.

“And the rest,” he said, nonchalantly.

With a large intake of breath Kate reached behind and felt for the clasp of her bra. What was a simple task every other day of the year suddenly seemed have become impossible, then it suddenly released. She slowly slipped the straps from her shoulders and removed the bra, revealing her breasts. She glanced at Richard and his nod of approval gave her the go ahead to carry on. She looked up at Weston; he was basking in her embarrassment and humiliation. Kate slipped down her panties, letting them drop to the floor. As carefully as she could she bent her knees to stoop down and retrieve the garment consigning it to the ever increasing pile.

Richard sat in fascination, watching the scene unfold before him. That morning he would not have dreamt that by the end of the day he would be sitting in a stranger’s office watching his wife strip naked. She’d always been self-conscious about her body so he appreciated how difficult it was for her. He also couldn’t deny what a huge turn on it was for him.

When fully naked Kate stood straight, pride taking the place of fear and uncertainty. She put her hands behind her back and waited. Weston rose from his chair and slowly circled her, studying her body. Kate remained still and tried to look composed.

“You’re a lucky man Richard,” nodding his approval of what stood before him. “Good firm breasts, full but not over large, and nice dark nipples too, lovely. They’ll go down well. Turn around Catherine.” Slowly she did as instructed and faced the French doors. It suddenly dawned on her that twenty feet away across the immaculately tended gardens was a side street. Any passers-by would only have to glance in her direction to see a naked woman standing to attention before two gentlemen in an office in the middle of the working day. The thought horrified and entranced her at the same time. “Nice firm buttocks too, she obviously works out.” The statement was posed as a question to Richard.

“Yes she does.” From the hoarseness of his voice Kate could tell that the situation was turning him on.

“And lovely legs too, not too much muscle but nicely toned. Turn back.” Kate did as she was told, eager for the visual dissection of her body to end. It was not easy for a woman to stand naked and be assessed by a stranger. “Natural blond too, I see, very nice.” He was looking directly at her crotch, studying her. “And best of all, those long, protruding, fleshy lips, come up nice and high too, easily visible even with the legs closed. They’re always popular, so much more humiliating for them when they have to walk around naked.” Kate thought her face would burst if any more blood got pumped to it. He was openly discussing and commenting on her most private parts, she couldn’t believe the audacity of the man. Obviously finished with his assessment he returned to his chair, much to Kate’s relief. At least she could get dressed again and regain some form of composure. Instead of issuing the order to dress he reached across to his desk and pressed a button on the intercom.

“Grace, would you please join us now? Mrs. Adams is ready.”

“Yes Mr. Weston, of course,” replied the voice from the box.

Kate instinctively made a sudden grab for anything from the pile of clothing on the chair which could be used to preserve at least some of her rapidly eroding dignity.