Bret leaned on the bar twirling the scotch in the glass, gazing into it intently. His buddy, Randy, perched on a stool on his left They had been there since they got off work, just talking and watching sports on the big screen TV. It was a usual Thursday evening. Bret's wife, Pat, was at yoga on Thursday evening so, instead of going home to an empty house, Bret stopped at the bar and stayed until about 9pm That put him home about the same time as Pat. Bret sat the glass of scotch on the bar and tilted his head to look at Randy.

"We been best friends for a long time."

Randy, caught off guard by the comment, shot Bret a quizzical look.

"Yeah. Ever since you shot our third-grade teacher with blow gun dart made from a straight pin and a Bic pen tube and I took the fall for it."

Bret grinned.

Randy was Bret's best friend. They had known each other since elementary school. They lived just a few houses apart when they were growing up and had been inseparable. They did everything together. They played sports together. They went to college and roomed together. They dated together.

Tonight, Bret was obviously troubled by something. Randy had found Bret at the bar. Bret was usually the one who arrived late. Randy knew then that something was not right, especially when he figured out that Bret was already three drinks ahead of him. And not just beer. Bret was drinking double scotch on the rocks. In an hour, he had gained ground on Randy and was now three doubles ahead. The alcohol was workings its magic. Bret was becoming more and more uninhibited as the evening progressed. As Randy listened, he quickly surmised that things at Bret's house were a little less than blissful.

"That bitch is spending me out of house and home. I got the credit card bill this month and she maxed them all out again. When I say anything about it, she just tells me to work harder."

Randy wanted to say something but feared that what he wanted to say would offend his friend. He held his words and the thought as Bret continued.

"I think she is playing around too. We haven't had sex in months. I know her. She is getting it somewhere. She can't do without it."

Bret turned up the glass and downed the rest of the scotch, banged the glass on the bar and motioned for another. The bartender nodded. Another glass of scotch appeared.

Brett's voice was starting to slur. Randy could see Bret sway slightly on the barstool as he drank deeply.

"And she has turned into a real double-barreled bitch. When she does speak to me it's like nails on a blackboard. Sometimes I feel like a slot machine. She pulls my handle once in a while and then grabs the money."

"Sounds like you have a real problem, but I don't know what I can do to help."

Bret took a long pull from the scotch. As he set it down on the bar, he swiveled the bar stool and stared directly into Randy's eyes. Randy saw the dilated pupils and noticed that Bret had to hold on to the edge of the bar to keep his balance.

"I want you to seduce my wife."

Randy had to catch himself to mask the flabbergasted look that threatened to cross his face. He leaned closer to his best friend and steadied him with a hand on his shoulder. Randy shrugged off the remark as the scotch talking and not his best friend.

"Bret, I think you are fucking drunk. Come on and I'll take you home. You can't drive. I will pick you up in the morning so you can get your truck."

Bret's eyes never wavered as he lifted the glass as if to toast Randy and drained it.

"OK Buddy, but I am serious. I want you to seduce my wife and fuck her."

"Yeah Bret. We will talk about it in the morning."

                                                                            &

Bret's mouth tasted like an old sneaker. The light from the window penetrated his skull like a sharp knife through his eyes. Standing carefully, he waited for a moment, letting the world stabilize a bit before he stumbled to the shower. In seconds steam began to escape as the hot water cascaded from the shower head. Gritting his teeth, he stepped into the stinging spray. A half hour later, grabbing a towel he stepped onto the cold tile. He felt a little more human. As he dressed, he decided that a cup of coffee and a little breakfast might make it even better.

Hell! I might survive after all.

He stepped into the bedroom.  As he entered, Pat rolled over. She opened one eye and looked at him.

'Well, I guess you had a good time last night. Randy had to walk you in the house."

He looked at her and grimaced.

"Yeah, so what. I beats the hell out of being home alone."

She just stared silently and rolled over with her back to him pulling the covers up around her ears. Bret dressed haphazardly. While the coffee was making, he dropped bread into the toaster. As he was pouring a cup of black coffee, he heard the toaster pop. Grabbing the still hot piece of dark brown bread, he smeared it with butter and jelly. Leaning against the counter watching the coffee run into the pot he thought about where he was in his life.

He had gone to work for the refinery right after college. As a junior engineer, he was assigned to the operations division and spent the majority of his time watching dials and putting numbers on a chart. It wasn't hard nor did it challenge him. He had begun to study the process that he was monitoring and discovered that it was, in his mind, highly inefficient and costly. He had begun doodling on scrap pieces of paper in the control shack where he worked. That doodling had become drawings and those drawings the genesis of a new control process. When he took his idea for a new design that would improve the efficiency of part of the plant to management, they agreed to let him run some trials, on his own time and at his own expense.

The design proved out. He was given the go ahead to scale up the prototype to a full system on one of the operating plants. A years worth of work, testing and measuring had proved that his design increased through put on the plant and decreased cost significantly. He had spent the next two years traveling around the country retrofitting the other plants with his improvement. The fact that he owned the patent and the company not only paid him to install the changes but also a royalty on every gallon of product that was processed using his patent didn't hurt. He went from being deep in student debt and the most junior engineer in the company to owning his own engineering consulting firm and having more money than he could spend.

It was on one of his installation trips he had met Pat. Her full name then was Patricia Margaret McMannis. She was 10 years older than he was. To Bret, she seemed exotic and beautiful.

She was tall and built like a brick house and there wasn't a brick missing. Dark hair, dark eyes and long legs. He had been mesmerized. She worked for the company as an HR generalist and, in that position, had access to the company personnel files. That had explained how she knew so much about him when he showed up on site that first day.

He remembered it clearly. He had arrived at the gate as planned. The guard had told him to go to HR to get his ID card which was also the key card that allowed him to access the plant. When he entered the HR office, the receptionist had directed him straight to Pat's office.

She had made it clear right off the bat that she was single, available and more than ready to show him all the delights the city could offer. He took her up on her offer and they had become an item over the next 6 weeks. The night before he was to leave for the next project, she had clung to him and cried. She packed and left with him the next day. Six months later they were married.

Six years later she was still drop dead gorgeous. She worked out three times a week, did yoga twice a week and the other days she was either playing tennis at the club or swimming in the pool at the house. Any time she wasn't doing that she seemed to be shopping. That the woman could shop there was no question. When he had finished that last project, they had come back where they lived now, and he had opened his engineering firm. She promptly decided to build a house. It had to be in the most exclusive development, and it had to be the biggest and grandest.

That was 4 years ago. His business had boomed. His company now resided in its own building staffed by 15 engineers and he couldn't even count the number of CAD operators, admin assistants and secretaries. All he knew is that he no longer did much engineering. He spent most of his time in meetings or cozying up to clients.

His only respite from the grind was Randy. Randy graduated with a degree in business and stayed in school to get his MBA. He now worked for a major investment firm as a market analyst. According to Randy, he was doing ok, but nothing on the scale of Bret. They remained best friends and spent a considerable amount of time together.

He poured a cup of coffee and heard the horn honk out front. That would be Randy picking him up to take him to his car so he could go to the office. He headed out, locking the door behind him and then pressing the button on the fob on his key chain to arm the alarm system.

Randy examined him as Bret climbed into the car.

"You look like shit."

"I feel like shit."

Randy laughed.

They chatted as Randy drove to the bar. Bret's car was not the only one in the parking lot. He got out and as he closed the door he stopped and looked back in.

"You gonna be here tonight?"

"Are you?"

"Yeah. It's her night to do spin class. I hate that big fucking house."

"I'll be here. Just don't start without me."

Bret nodded and shut the door. Bret was still standing next to the pickup truck as Randy drove away. Randy headed his car downtown to the office building where the investment firm kept its offices on the five floors of a bank tower. His office wasn't on a corner, yet, but it did have a full wall of windows. He wasn't too disappointed with his situation. After he got his MBA, he went to work at the investment firm as a broker. His job was to hustle clients into investing more money and then keeping them happy. He was good at it. So good in fact, that within a year he had been pulled from what they called the bull pen and moved into a cubicle along the wall with a computer and a phone. It was his reward for outperforming everyone else.

He kept at it and discovered he had a knack for looking at markets and seeing trends that no else seemed to notice. That knack made it possible for him to get early positions on market moves and profit well from that ability. The boys on the 30^th floor noticed, and he began the steady rise up the floors from the 25^th. Now he had an office with windows on the 30^th floor. He wasn't a partner. . .yet.

He pulled into the parking garage and into the space with his name stenciled on the wall. You could always tell your standing with the company by how close your parking spot was to the elevator. His was close and he was soon in the elevator on his way to his office.

                                                                              %%%

Randy was already sitting at the bar when Bret arrived.

"You get off early?"

"I took off a bit early. Things were slow."

Randy had a pilsner of beer and Bret ordered one as well before he plopped onto the stool next to Randy.

"How are things?"

"The firm is growing. We hired 12 new brokers last week. Our funds topped 2 billion dollars and are growing daily."

"Yeah. I have heard. You guys are nearly doubling the returns the other fund managers are getting. How the hell do you do that."

"Good planning, good management, and good people."

Bret gave Randy a sideways glance.

"Ok. I'll take that answer, but I think there is more there than that."

Randy smiled.

"How about the engineering business?"

"Shit. People are throwing contracts at us. We developed a new control system for a plastics manufacturing plant and now everyone in the industry wants the same technology applied to their systems. Each one is a little different, has its own problems and challenges. We can't find enough engineers to cover all the projects."

They watched the rugby feed coming in on the satellite on the screen over the bar.

Bret kept his eyes on the screen but spoke to Randy.

"Have you thought anymore about what I asked you last night?"

"What?"

Bret cut his head around to look at Randy and found his friend staring at him open mouthed and incredulous.

"About my wife."

"Were you serious. I thought that was the scotch talking."

"No. I have been thinking about this for a while. I want to rein that bitch in a bit. She needs to be taken down a peg or two and if I can catch her in a compromising position, I can at least have a little leverage over her."

Randy thought about it for a minute.

"I dunno Bret. We have been friends a long time. I'm not sure I want to get involved in your domestic problems. I wouldn't want our friendship to get screwed up."

Bret laughed.

"I don't think that is going to happen. Look. If I try to divorce her, she is going to take half of everything I own. If I don't get her under control, she is going to spend it all anyway. I don't have anything to lose. If you can help me get her into a position where I can at least curb some of her habits, then it's a win for me plus you get to fuck the bitch."

It was Randy's turn to laugh now.

"So how do you propose we do this."

"I'm going to invite you over on Saturday. I will insist she be there since you will be coming. Hell, she likes you anyway. She is always telling me that I should be more like Randy and drive a sports car and work in a nice office. She thinks I work in a mechanics shop, I think. Anyway, plan on being there all evening. We will watch the game that afternoon, grill dinner and eat by the pool. We can take an evening swim before you have to leave."

"Yeah. But how does that help."

"I will arrange to get a phone call in the middle of dinner with a problem at one of our installations. It happens all the time anyway and she won't be suspicious. I will need to go to the office and leave you too alone. You are on your own after that."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to my office, watch porn on the computer and sleep on the couch!"

Randy's face was impassive. There was no hint of what he was thinking. His eyes seemed to bore into Bret for several seconds.

"Ok. We will see how it plays out."

Saturday rolled around. Pat had complained all day about having to stay home Saturday until she found out Randy was coming to spend the afternoon and evening. That seemed to make her a little happier. Just after lunch she appeared from upstairs with a sheer bathing suit cover that did nothing to actually hide the bikini she was wearing. It was a bright lime green. The top really wasn't a top. I had a string around her neck and a string around her back and two small triangles of cloth that were positioned carefully to cover her nipples. The bottom consisted of a string that went around her waist and a triangle of material that just barely covered what needed to be covered at her crotch. The material disappeared between her ass cheeks. Bret looked at it and just shook his head. That 6 square inches of material and string had probably cost him a couple of hundred bucks.

He was getting the steaks ready for that evening. As he put them in the marinade, she walked through the kitchen.

Jesus fucking Christ. She even had lime green stiletto heels to match the suit. He had to admit that she looked hot as hell. If she just wasn't such a bitch.

He started back to attention as she paused at the door and spat words at him almost contemptuously.

"I hope you got some better wine. That shit you bought last time was horrible."

"It's in the cooler. The guy said it was imported and for what it cost it better be good."

She looked at him disdainfully. She was already carrying an open bottle. Pouring herself a glass she headed out to the pool.

A while later he heard Randy at the front door and went to let him in. They chatted as they walked back to what Bret called his man cave. It was supposed to be the game room. He had converted it to his personal space. It had an 80" flat screen TV on one wall with a state-of-the-art sound system. 4 recliners faced the screen. There was a beer tap and a full bar along one wall. The other wall was mostly French doors which looked out onto the pool. There was a large overhang over the doors which made another space between the doors and the pool for entertaining.

"Bret. I love this room. I wish I had a place like this."

"Christ Randy. You know that anything I have is yours. You already have the code for the security system and the front door. Come and use it anytime you want."

Randy looked at him. He had heard that offer before but had never taken Bret up on it.

Taking a glass from the freezer, Randy drew a beer from the tap and walked to the windows looking at the pool Across the way he could see Pat laying on a chaise in the sun. She was stunning.

"Bret, you still mean to follow through with this plan of yours?"

"Yep. I will get the call just after dinner and I will leave shortly after that. You are on your own. Be careful you don't lose your balls."

Randy laughed.

"I think I will be ok. How do you want me to play this?"

"Your call. I will stay gone until tomorrow morning. I have done this before when clients call with a problem, so she won't suspect anything. Send me a text and let me know how things are going. I will call her about 10 and tell her I am staying at the office until we get the problem resolved."

Randy's attention had never strayed from the view across the pool.

                                                                               %%%

The three of them were sitting on the patio at the table. The remains of dinner were scattered about the table top and Bret had taken the first load of dishes to the kitchen. Randy noticed that Pat didn't make a move to help, so he stood, gathered some things and followed Bret in. As he walked into the kitchen a phone rang. Bret dug his cell phone from his pocket. He was talking on the phone as he passed Randy. Randy followed him back outside listening to one side of the conversation.

"Ok. I will head to the office and pull up the specs and the drawings. Give me about 30 minutes and I will call you back. Tell them to shut the thing down and not to do anything else until we can check this out."

He hung up the phone and dropped it back into his pocket.

"I have to go to the office. One of our clients has a production problem and we have to sort it out so we can get them back online. I may be late. Randy, stay as long as you want. The game will start in a couple of minutes. The big screen is all ready to go. Pat, keep Randy company and try to make it a pleasant evening."

Randy saw her scowl at Bret over that remark. He watched as Bret turned away from Pat and sent a sly wink in his direction. In a few minutes Randy heard the big pickup that Bret drove gun down the driveway. He looked at Pat. She was studying him.

"I guess we should clean this mess up. I may watch some of the game before I head home. If you have something to do, I am fine by myself."

She looked at the rest of the dirty dishes on the table and flipped her hand nonchalantly.

"Don't worry about this. The maid will be here in the morning, and she can clean it up. I will sit with you for a few minutes anyway and drink another glass of wine. Bret finally got something right with this bottle."

She grabbed the bottle and her glass. Randy watched her walk away. He smiled. She was deliberately exaggerating the roll of her hips as she walked. He picked up the last of the dirty dishes and carried them to the kitchen, carefully rinsing and stacking them in the sink. It was only then that he followed her to the game room and drew himself a cold beer from the tap. She was sprawled in one of the recliners. The pregame show was on. She sat with one leg and foot folded underneath her and the other leg hanging over the arm of the recliner. The effect was to pull the thin material of the swimsuit across her spread pussy. The material conformed perfectly to every fold and curve. She seemed to be focused intently on the TV. She fidgeted in the chair as the pre-game show ground on.

"Are you sure you want to watch this game?"

Randy instantly went on alert. The tone and pitch of her voice was enough to key him to pay attention.

"Is there something else you would rather watch? I don't mind. I will probably go home after I finish this beer."

She began to flip through channels and switch between satellite feeds until she settled on one and began to look at the menu. Randy recognized it as a direct feed site where you could choose a movie and it would stream directly to the TV. He watched as she worked the remote not really paying much attention to what she was searching for. He had turned his back to the screen to grab a beer coaster to put under his glass. When he turned around, he was startled to see, larger than life on the huge screen, a woman and a man engaged in hot and heavy sex. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he found Pat smiling at him.

"This is much more interesting than that pre-game show."

He watched as the man withdrew from the woman and then rolled her onto her stomach. With no apparent effort, the man slipped his cock into the woman's ass. The woman arched her back to meet the man's thrusts and began to groan. She urged the man on to fuck her harder and deeper. Randy glanced over at Pat and found her fixated on the scene, her lips slightly parted and her breathing noticeably heavier. The scant material of the bikini top only enhanced the visible tautness of her erect nipples. It was plain she was aroused. The tiny patch of material in her crotch was showing a definite stain. With some effort, he turned his attention back to the screen.

He couldn't really blame Pat for being aroused. The woman on the screen was beautiful and the man, he would admit, was young, well-built and had a cock of enviable size. They were both. . . well. . . athletic would be a good term. His own cock responded to the scenes playing out on the screen. No words were spoken between he and Pat for the next 45 minutes. The movie finished and the screen went dark. The room, now dimly lit only be the reflected light from the pool, was quiet. Randy stood and sat the empty beer glass on the bar top.

"I guess I will be going."

She oozed out of the chair and moved sensuously close to him.

"Bret said we were all going for a swim."

"It's late and I really should go. Since Bret's not here I am not sure I should stay very late."

"Good God Randy. You are Bret's best friend. He won't mind. Come on and let's take a swim."

He shrugged and followed her to the pool. He was wearing his trunks and he peeled off the polo shirt he had worn over it. He turned as she was laying the sheer cover on the chair near her and then, to his amazement, she untied the strings holding the swimsuit top and stepped from the bottoms and then stepped out of the shoes. She saw the look on his face and smiled.

"You pay almost $200 for a swimsuit, and you would think that you could swim in it. Not the case."

She stepped to the pool and executed a beautiful racing dive into the water. She surfaced across the pool, flinging the mass of hair back over her head with an arcing spray of water. Her smile was telling.

"Well come on!"

He walked to the pool and dove in surfacing just a few feet from her.

"This is nice."

"It's probably the best thing about this house."

He listened as she complained about the house, the way it was laid out, the shortcomings as she saw it and what she would do different. At one point he had asked her a question.

"Didn't you design this house?"

"Oh yeah. But now that I have lived in it, I know what I would do different, but Bret absolutely refuses to sell this one and build another one."

She turned and swam off the length of the pool. He rested against the edge and leaned back, putting his elbows on the side of the pool watching her. She executed a perfect racing turn and then headed back his direction. She stopped near him and stood up. The water was shallower where he was standing and came to just above her navel. He could see the water dripping from her nipples. The cold air had made them hard again and he could see the pebbling of her areola as well.

"Aren't you going to swim?"

"I'm good. It's nice just to be in the water."

She stepped toward him and stopped just inches away.

"You and Bret have been friends almost your whole lives, haven't you?"

"Yep. We grew up together. More like brothers than friends."

Her eyes were locked on his.

"He told me that you shared everything when you were in high school and college."

"We did. We were close enough to the same size that we could swap clothes. We shared a dorm room in college and whatever I had was Bret's and whatever Bret had was mine."

"I have heard Bret say that as well. I think he would like it if you came more often and hung around."

"Yeah. I think it bothers him that I don't come here more often and use the pool and the game room."

"He wants you around. You are his only friend."

"I feel the same way about him."

She stepped closer. Her erect nipples were only millimeters from his chest.

"You should get rid of that swimsuit. You can't really enjoy the water with it on."

"I'm good thanks. I'm not sure Bret would appreciate me swimming naked with his wife."

She put a fingernail on his chest and drew is slowly downward.

"Bret won't mind. Remember what he said. What's his is yours."

There was no question in his mind what she was saying. He wasn't having to seduce anyone. He was being seduced instead. Bret was going to drop his jaw when he heard about this. Just as her finger got to the waist band of his swimsuit, her phone rang. She frowned and looked at the table.

"Crap. That is probably Bret. Give me a minute."

He watched her as she walked across the deck and answered the phone.

"Hello"

"All night?"

"What time tomorrow?"

That late?"

"OK, I will tell him."

She walked back to the pool, down the steps and came back to the same place she had just left.

"Bret says to stay as long as you want. He is going to be all night and probably won't be back until about 11 tomorrow morning."

Randy slipped sideways as he spoke.

"I guess I better get home."

She stepped back in front of him. Her hands went to his waist pulling herself close enough that her nipples were now pressed against him.

"Stay a while. There is still wine left in that bottle. We can watch another movie."

He looked down at her.

"I don't know."

She looked at him and grinned slyly. He felt her hand move. She grabbed his cock as she spoke.

"I think you do know. Based on how hard your cock is I am guessing you are going to stay for a while."

He put his hands on her waist and pulled her tight to him and kissed her. She flowed into the kiss without hesitation. As she was kissing him, her hands were busy, and he felt his swimsuit slide down his legs and then her hands around his cock. She gasped into his mouth, through the kiss.

"Fuck! You are as big as that guy in the movie."

He chuckled.

"Why do you think my nickname in high school was Horse?"

She closed her eyes, and he heard her moan. She stroked up and down his cock slowly under the water. He leaned back against the edge of the pool watching her. She was looking down into the water where her hands were still playing slowly up and down his rigid tool.

Her eyes came up to his slowly. Her expression had changed. He saw naked and unadulterated lust.

"Come on."

She started to turn away. He reached out and grabbed her wrist and pulled back close to him. Her breasts rested against his chest as he stared into her eyes. It was her turn to see a different look in his eyes. Before she had seen a faint amusement as if there was some unspoken joke, she was unaware of. This was a look she had never seen before. It was demanding and confident. Randy seemed to have changed and it caused her to pause.

"No. If we are going to do this, we are going to do it on my terms. You are not in charge of this, I am. Do you understand."

She swallowed. She was off her game now. Men didn't talk to her like that. They were always overawed by her beauty and would fawn at her thinking they might actually have a chance with her. Men didn't make demands of her. She made demands of them. The unexpected change in the dynamic caused her to react instinctively instead of with her usual self-control.

"Yes Sir."

"That's better. There are a few rules. Listen carefully. You don't make rules or make demands. You will do exactly as I say without question or hesitation. If you ever talk back to me or question me one of two things will happen. I will either punish you or I will leave and this whole thing comes to an end right then."

She nodded without speaking. Still off balance mentally, she could do nothing more.

'Do you understand?"

She nodded again.

He spoke more harshly to her.

"I asked you a question. When I ask you a question you will answer me. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Good girl. Now, we are going to get out of this pool and go into the game room. I am going to sit in that recliner, and you are going to give me a blow job. You will deep throat me until I come, and you will swallow every drop of semen I unload into you. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir."

He pushed her back walking past her toward the steps leading from the pool Without turning around he could hear her following behind. He walked directly to the chair and sat down mindless of the pool water that he left on the floor and that now puddled into the rich leather of the recliner. She was right behind him and as he sat, she dropped to her knees. Before he could even adjust himself in the chair, she had both hands wrapped around the shaft of his cock and was leaning up and opening her mouth. He watched as she slowly slid his cock deeper and deeper. He felt the back of her throat as she gagged momentarily. She adjusted and his cock slid into her throat until she pressed her face against his belly.

She began to move her head up and down slowly. The ridge of his circumcised cock rubbed along her throat, and he leaned his head back closing his eyes to enjoy that feeling. He let her work his cock with her mouth and tongue as she toyed with his balls with her hand. Her eyes glazed and one hand was buried deep between her legs, the other cupping his balls. Her mouth stretched wide around his cock. The sight was enough to push him over the edge. He felt his hips tense and then jerk hard as he jetted spurt after spurt of thick creamy cum into the back of her mouth. She swallowed hard and fast, but a few thin rivulets escaped from the corners of her mouth and ran down her chin.

He pushed her head off his cock. She was quite a sight kneeling with her knees spread wide. Her firm full breasts were heaving as she breathed hard, and her eyes were still a little glazed. The cum was stuck to her chin and she licked her lips hungrily. He stood and reached for his swim trunks and started to put them on.

He heard her whine behind him.

"You aren't leaving? Aren't you going to fuck me?"

He turned and looked at her.

"Not to tonight. I told you this was on my terms and my conditions not yours."

She stood. Her eyes were now fiery and she spat at him.

"You arrogant ass."

Without hesitation, he slapped her hard enough that she fell backwards into the recliner. Her hand went to her cheek which was already bright red and was stinging like fire. Her eyes filled with shock.

"Don't ever use that tone of voice with me again, bitch. If you want to get my cock in your cunt, when your husband comes home you will meet him at the front door as naked as you are now and give him the same blowjob you gave me before he takes another step into the house. When he tells me how you greeted him, then I will consider letting you experience my cock in your cunt. Is that clear?"

She still had the surprised look on her face when she answered in a rather small meek voice.

"Yes Sir."

As he was driving home, he called Bret.

"It's me."

"Hey. What's up?"

"I am on my way home."

"Already. What went wrong."

"Nothing. I just wanted to tell you that your wife came onto me in the pool. She made it known right quick that she thought your comment that what's yours is mine and mine is yours included her."

"No shit! That little cunt."

"Yeah. But you should have seen her face the first time she grabbed my cock in my swimsuit."

Bret laughed.

"Yeah Horse. It's not the first time you have seen that look."

"Anyway. Here is the bottom line. I made her give me a blowjob. She did a pretty decent job by the way. She swallowed the whole load. Then I left."

"Why?"

"I gave her some instructions and told her if she didn't follow them exactly, she wouldn't get a chance to feel my cock in her pussy."

"What did you tell her to do?"

"You will find out when you get home. Oh! No matter what happens, how much she begs or what she offers, don't fuck her."

"Ugh, Ok. Should I go home now?"

"Yeah. Call her and tell her that the problem got solved and you are coming home early."

"Ok buddy. Thanks for the heads up."

"No problem. Let me know how things work out. I'm going home and go to bed. Don't call until at least noon."

Bret hung up the phone and sat for a minute thinking. Randy evidently had some kind of plan.

"That bitch came on to Randy! I wonder how many other cocks she has sucked in the last couple of years at yoga class and spin class."

He picked up the phone and dialed her number.

"Pat. Is Randy still there.?"

"Already? Well. We got the problem solved and I am coming home early. I was hoping Randy might still be there."

"I will be home in about 30 minutes."

He hung up the phone. As he headed to his truck, he was wondering exactly what Randy had told her to do.

He came through the door into the utility room. To his surprise she was waiting just inside the door stark naked. As he shut the door, she dropped to her knees unzipping his trousers. Before he could do much more than look down, she had his cock in her mouth and was working it to a full erection. He stood in amazement as she deep throated him expertly, licked up and down his now rigid shaft then lifted his cock and carefully sucked his balls into her mouth caressing them with her tongue. She had never done that before, but it was enough to cause him to groan and then grunt. His hips pistoned and he spent a load of cum onto her face and hair. She looked up at him and actually smiled.

"Welcome home."

"I guess. What the hell caused that?"

"I just thought I would give you a little surprise."

"It was. I'm beat. I am going to bed."

Her eyes looked a little panicked.

"Don't you want to fuck me?"

"After that blow job, I don' t think I could get it up before I fell asleep."

He stepped past her leaving her on her knees in the utility room. He smiled as she groaned behind him.

The next day was Sunday. He got up early, went downstairs and took a short swim before he made coffee. Waiting on the coffee he thought about what to do for the day. She usually slept till well after noon on Sundays, so he was on his own. The golf course was always an inviting option. He could get in an early round and then have lunch at the club. He couldn't call Randy until later anyway.

It was almost 1pm when he got home. He peeked into the bedroom. As he expected, she was still curled up on the bed, dead to the world. He pulled together a massive sandwich. With the sandwich and a beer, his next stop was the table by the pool. He called Randy.

"Morning"

"Hey Bret. What have you been up to?"

"I got in an early round of golf this morning. How about you?"

"I slept in and have just had a shower. How did things go last night?"

Bret related the incident blow by blow. Randy laughed.

"She followed her instructions exactly."

"I don't know what you are planning but you have my undying gratitude. That was the best blow job I have ever hand."

"You're welcome. How about I come over and we watch the game this afternoon?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"I'll be there about 3."

"Cool. Bring your swimsuit if you don't wear it. I am sure we'll end up in the pool."

"Will do. Can I pick anything up?"

"Nah. We are good here. I am planning on putting some fish on the grill later."

"Sounds excellent. See you in a while."

The phone went dead, and Bret smiled. He couldn't wait to watch her reaction when Randy arrived.

                                                                              %%%

Brett heard Randy press the buttons to unlock the front door. It was the first time Randy had ever used the code. He walked into the game room where Bret was sitting.

"Afternoon. What's up?"

"Watching the pregame. I may have screwed up. The over under on this game has gone nuts. I placed my bet early this morning and I think I am on the wrong side."

"How much?"

"A grand."

Randy shrugged.

"That's part of the game if you are going to gamble."

A small gasp came from behind them and both men turned to see Pat standing framed in the doorway with the light behind her in a really short babydoll negligee. She had not bothered to put on the panty. The light behind her left nothing to the imagination.

"Randy. I didn't know you were here."

She turned and ran back up the stairs. Bret snorted.

"That was priceless."

Randy grinned and settled in the recliner. By the time Pat returned, the game had started and both men were absorbed in the action. She walked quietly behind the recliners and stood for a moment.

"Are you going to be here all afternoon?"

Randy tilted his head and looked over the back of the recliner.

"Yes. Bret invited me to dinner again. We are going to watch this game and the late game from the West coast."

Randy saw her smile slightly.

"I think I will take a swim."

Randy turned to look at her.

"Before you go, pour me another beer."

She stopped and looked at him. Bret waited for the snide remark or the routine "Get it yourself". He nearly fell out of the chair when her heard her answer.

"Yes sir."

He watched incredulously as she filled a glass from the tap and carried it carefully to Randy. As she came over Randy turned to Bret.

"You want one?"

"Sure."

Randy spoke without looking at her.

"Get your husband a beer."

It was then that Bret heard what he had expected.

"He can get his own. He lives here. He isn't a guest."

Randy cut his eyes to her as she turned and walked out of the room.

"She is an impertinent bitch."

"She always has been."

"We need to change that."

"How?"

"I will teach you."

Bret looked at him with a question in his eyes.

"Just be patient."

Bret shrugged. He had nothing to lose.

Pat made a point of walking through the game room on the way to the pool. She could have gone straight outside from the bedroom. Brett suspicioned that she wanted to make sure Randy saw her in the dark red bikini. This one was a bit more modest, and she actually wore it as she dove into the water. The men, deeply involved in the game, paid little attention to her. When the game was over, Bret and Randy fired up the grill and began cooking the fish. Bret went to make the salad while Randy tended the fish and veggies. Seeing her opportunity, Pat stepped close to him and seemed to be examining the food on the grill.

"I did as you told me."

"I heard."

"Now what. When can I see you again?"

"What do you have on Tuesday evening?"

"I teach a couple of spin classes at the gym."

"Cancel them and be at my house at 6pm. Make excuses that you will be late. I don't care what they are. You won't be home before midnight."

He saw her shiver and then nod. She returned to the pool as Bret came out with the salad. A few minutes later and they were seated and eating.

Monday morning Randy called Bret.

"Hey!"

"Hey! How's the financial world?"

"Everything is in the tank this morning. We made a shit ton of money."

"How the hell did you make money if the markets are down?"

"We sold off a bunch of stuff on Friday afternoon and we are buying back in now. I am pretty sure the markets will take a bounce by Wednesday, and we will almost double what we took out and put back in ."

"Fuck. How the hell can you predict that?"

"I don't have a clue. I can just read it in the numbers. How is the engineering business.?"

"Our customers could fuck up an iron anvil with a rubber hammer. Their stupidity is money in my pocket! I'm sending two engineers to Milwaukee to sort out a problem."

Randy laughed.

"At least you don't have to go anymore."

"True."

"Bret. Listen. Pat is going to make excuses for Tuesday night."

"Why? She teaches spin class that night."

"She is going to be late getting home and will make excuses about having to do something at the gym. Don't make an issue of it."

"Shit. I never do anymore. What is going on?"

"She is coming to my house."

Bret's head came up.

"Really!"

"Yeah."

"Ok!"

"I just wanted to let you know. I don't want you to think I am doing anything behind your back."

"I appreciate that, but I asked you to do this."

"I know. I think we can solve a lot of your problems. Just let me work on this."

"Whatever it takes."

"Ok. I will talk to you in a couple of days."

Sure enough, that afternoon Pat called.

"Bret. I just got word from the gym that I will have to work extra late on Tuesday. The girl that does the two late night spin classes is sick and I have to take her classes."

"Why do you do that shit? You don't have to work you know."

"I know but if you want me to keep looking like this, I have to work at it."

"Ok. What time will you be in?"

"It won't be until after midnight."

"Ok. I will probably be in bed. Try not to wake me up."

"Aren't you the romantic."

She hung up the phone and he put his down.

                                                                             %%%

Tuesday evening Pat pulled up in front of Randy's house. She had never been there and didn't know what to expect. He had given her the address and her GPS had led her to the remote site. It was in a rural part of the county, well outside the city, isolated and hidden from the road by trees. It was one of those 60's era flat roofed rambling affairs with lots of glass and different levels. She could see that it was large and seemed to grow up and out of the rocky outcropping on which it sat.

She rang the bell and the intercom beside the door buzzed.

"Come in. The door is open."

Inside the foyer She could see corridors leading to the left and the right. In front of her was an unobstructed view from the front door to the wall of glass that was the back of the house. From the foyer, the huge living area dropped off in a series of steps down. She walked forward slowly. She could see that the house was perched on the top of a bluff and overlooked a valley below. The view was magnificent. An unusual noise for a house drew her attention to a small brook running from beneath the edge of one slab of concrete that made up the floor. It burbled splashed down one side of the expansive room before disappearing through an opening in the living area. Following the line, she could see that it reappears further down the slope outside the house. Randy came from the kitchen to her right. He casually held a glass in his hand.

"I see you found me."

"Randy. This is beautiful. I never knew you had a place like this."

"It's just a little shack in the woods."

She rolled her eyes.

"Just a shack?"

"Ok, well. May be not quite a shack. It was designed by a student of Frank Lloyd Wright. You can see a lot of his influence in it. When I bought it, the previous owners were about to bulldoze it. I refurbished it from the foundations up. I like it."

Her gaze went past Randy to the sparkling kitchen and the elegant yet simple furnishings of the house.

I might have underestimated Randy by a bit.

She gave him a sly grin on her face.

"Now what?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well. I assumed that I would get a chance at that cock of yours, Horse?"

A broad gleaming grin split her face.

He sat the glass on the counter and walked to her slowly. He reached up, grasped the front of her shirt and slapped her on each cheek hard. Through the pain and her surprise, she heard him growl at her in a low intense voice.

"I told you that everything we do is on my terms and my conditions. You will not address me in that insolent tone of voice. You will address me as Sir. Do you understand?"

Her eyes were rimmed with tears. Her cheeks burned from the impact of his hand. Her voice wavered as she replied.

"Yes Sir."

She stepped back slightly as his hand loosed the shirt front. His eyes played up and down her. It was a look she had trouble fathoming. Men usually looked at her with desire and lust. All she saw in Randy's eyes was a hard, almost cynical expression. She got the distinct impression he was looking at her more like prey then like a prize.

"When you are in this house you will be naked unless I tell you otherwise."

He turned back to the counter and picked up the glass. When he again glanced at her she stood in a state of mild shock and still clothed. She watched as he shook his head and sat the glass down on the counter. He took her arm and led her across the room to one of the several couches and chairs arranged in groups. Bending her over the back of the couch, he flipped her skirt up over her back. She craned her head back at him still dazed and a little confused. She watched him pull the leather belt from his trousers and realized what he was about to do. She rose to protest. His hand flashed out and his fingers tangled themselves in the thick hair at the back of her head pushing her down. Without a word, he began to work the leather belt over her ass hard and fast. The sharp crack of leather on flesh filled the rooms accompanied by screams. She fought, twisting and writhing, but the hand in her hair gave him leverage which he used expertly. In moments, he had turned her creamy ass a dark red with bruises already beginning to show. He yanked her to her feet by her hair twisting her violently to face him. She was sobbing and crying. She had been screaming incessantly toward the end as she struggled.

"I will not tell you twice to do anything. If you do not do exactly as I say the moment I say it, this will pale in comparison to what you will get. You have a choice to make right now. You either agree or walk out of here right now. Do you hear me?"

Blubbering, she stammered.

"Yes Sir."

"Now. I want to see you naked when I turn around."

He gave her a small push as he walked back to his drink. She stumbled back against the couch. Her now tender ass brushed the leather and she jumped slightly. By the time he saw her again she was dropping her bra to the floor and pushing her panties down. The rest of her clothing lay piled around her feet. She straightened and gazed back at him, her face tear streaked and eyes red.

"That's better. Now gather up your clothes and follow me."

He started down the long hallway. She gathered her clothes and followed quickly. Turning into the doorway she found herself in a huge bedroom with one wall of windows that enjoyed the same view as the living room.

What the hell! Why am I not running like hell to get out of this maniac's house?

"Fold your clothing and stack it neatly on the dresser. Get on the bed."

He disappeared into the bathroom. She heard him using the toilet without bothering to close the bathroom door. She spun and hurriedly folded the clothing, stacked it and nearly ran to the bed. She pulled the covers back and folded them neatly then lay down on the bed on her back. Her mind was a turmoil of conflicted emotions.

I should leave, right now. Fuck! I don't want to leave! What is it about him that makes me want to act this way? I should be in charge. He should be begging me for a fuck! Christ!

He was naked as he emerged from the bathroom. His huge cock hanging down still flaccid.

"Well, you seem to learn quickly with the right motivation."

He stopped at the foot of the bed, his eyes moving up and down her.

God! I get turned on when he looks at me! Why? It makes me feel like he is judging me or . . . . FUCK! He is looking at me like I am something he owns!

"Spread your legs."

Her legs snapped open as if they were loaded with taut springs.

"On your hands and knees with your ass facing me."

She rolled onto her hands and knees turning to face her ass to him.

No one has ever treated me like this. I would have laughed at them and told them to go to hell! What is it that makes me stay. Why the hell am I wet and aroused and wanting to do anything to please this man? What makes him different?

He ran his hands over her still crimson and rapidly bruising ass. She gasped as two fingers drove deep into her cunt. As he had expected, she was dripping and swollen.

"All ready for me, are you?"

She was silent. He slapped her on the bruised ass, and she yelped.

"I asked you a question."

"Yes Sir!"

He took his now swelling cock in his hand and rubbed the head between her labia. She moaned in anticipation. Working the head of his engorged cock between her cunt lips he grabbed her waist and jerked her back savagely driving his enormous cock into her. The head of his cock slammed into her cervix, eliciting a screech. Ignoring her obvious discomfort, he began to pull and push her back and forth as he fucked her mechanically. Her breasts swung like pendulums beneath her as he moved her on his cock.

FUCK! He isn't fucking me. He is using me to masturbate. I am just something for him to use! Why am I so damned turned on by this!

It took just a few minutes for him to spend his load, splashing it against her cervix.

"Turn around."

She spun obediently and arched her back to be able to see his face.

"Clean it."

She looked at his cock, cum still dripping from the tip and her juices slathered up and down the shaft. Without hesitation, she began licking up and down the length of his cock. He watched her use her tongue and when he was satisfied, he lifted her head by the hair.

"You're beginning to get the idea. If you want to feel my cock, taste my cum and enjoy my attention, you do it exactly the way I say. No back talk, no snide remarks, no fucking smart ass and no hesitation. Is that clear?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good."

He turned and walked to the chair that faced the TV hanging on the wall. When he got there he pointed to the floor beside the chair.

"You go wherever I go. If I am sitting, you are kneeling on my left. You walk behind me. You do not talk unless you are spoken too. Understand?"

"Yes Sir."

He sat in the chair and looked down to his left. She scrambled from the bed and ran to the spot dropping to her knees.

"Better."

He turned the TV to one of the financial channels and sat watching quietly.

She knelt on the floor beside him, naked, lost in thought as well.

What the fuck just happened and what has happened to me? Why am I unable to refuse what this man wants? It isn't his cock. I have had others just as big and they never caused me to act like this. Why haven't I just walked out? Why have I accepted his abuse and his attitude?

She continued to argue with herself silently as he watched the financial show. He sat there for almost two hours. She knelt quite uncomfortably on the cold terrazzo floor. She could feel his cum leaking from her pussy and dripping to the floor. Her ass was still burning, and she needed to pee but was unwilling to risk asking him. He finally looked down and noticed her shifting in place.

"Do you need to pee?"

"Yes Sir."

"Do you need to shit?"

"No Sir"

He stood and walked toward the bathroom. She scrambled to her feet and followed. He stopped at the door and nodded toward the toilet.

"Go pee."

She walked in and started to close the door. He stopped it with his hand.

"You will leave the door open anytime you need to pee or shit."

She blushed slightly but turned and sat down on the toilet seat. She waited and waited but with him watching she just couldn't get it to start. He turned on the tap. Without warning a handful of icy water splashed over her face and tits. The shock of the cold water flashed through her and instantly her bladder opened, and the torrent of urine flowed down. His eyes never left her. When she was done, she took paper and wiped herself.

This is degrading! I am going to get my clothes and leave right now. He treats me like I am nothing!

She stood and flushed the toilet.

Now. I can just walk to the bedroom and get my stuff and be out of here. Fuck this! No cock is worth this kind of treatment.

He turned without a word and walked out of the room. Despite her own thoughts, she hurried to follow along, her tits bouncing as she trotted behind him in an effort to keep up with his long confident strides. He walked down the length of the corridor behind the kitchen. She followed him into an enclosed pool with a hot tub in one corner. She stared in amazement. Pressing the button to start the pumps, he settled into the hot swirling water. She waited at the edge unsure what to do.

He opened his eyes and nodded down to the seat beside him. As the hot water came up over her well whipped ass she gasped as it burned and strung again. He sat with his head resting on the edge of the tub, eyes closed. She sat and watched.

Jesus! I must be insane. I should get up and leave now.

Almost exactly 30 minutes later the tub timer expired and the jets went quiet. He opened his eyes, stood and climbed out of the tub. Taking a towel from the cabinet he dried off. As he finished with the towel he tossed it to her. She understood quickly and used it to dry herself. She dropped the towel as he started to walk off. He turned to see if she was following him. His eyes went to the towel on the floor. Her eyes went wide with fear.

Oh shit! He is a maniac for neatness.

"Pick that towel up and bring it to me, bitch."

She knelt to picked up the towel and brought it to where he was standing. Grabbing it from her hand he folded it on the diagonal, then folded one end back. He rolled the whole thing length wise. She watched until he held the towel by the thicker end. At the other end a single wet corner hung limply slowly dripping water.

"Grab your hands behind your back."

She clasped her hand behind her back.

"Pull your shoulders back and thrust those tits of yours out to me."

She did as he ordered.

Without warning he flicked the towel expertly. The corner snapped loudly directly on her nipple A short welt cut across the nipple, rapidly turned red and began to swell. She screamed and doubled over. Her hands cradled her breast. It felt as if someone had cut it with a knife.

"Stand up and look at me."

She struggled to return upright. Her hands still covered her breast and tears filling her eyes.

"I demand orderliness and neatness. Do you understand?"

She managed to croak an answer.

"Yes Sir."

"Good."

She watched as he unrolled the towel, folded it and put it into the wet towel hamper.

She followed him into the kitchen, holding her aching tit to keep it from bouncing. He took a beer from the refrigerator, opened it and took a long drink. With the bottle tilted up, he seemed to be examining her again. He reached back into the refrigerator and handed her a bottle of water.

"Drink."

She opened the bottle and took a long swallow. She didn't realize how thirsty she was. She gulped the water until the bottle was empty. She looked around trying to find a trash can. He touched a cabinet door with his toe and it opened to reveal the waste can inside. She dropped the bottle in it and he closed it. He walked past her toward the living area. She followed along as instructed and when he came to a halt, he was looking at the TV again. There was a news item about some crop failure in China due to bad weather. She could see he was concentrating. He looked at the clock on in the corner of the TV. It was 10:30.

"Bend over the couch."

She turned and bent over the back of the leather sofa. Fear filled her.

Oh God! Is he going to beat me again? I should run. Even if I have to leave naked I should get the hell out of here. I don't have to take this abuse. Why am I fucking still laying here waiting for him to perform some other degrading act on me?

Her head dropped and her eyes closed.

Because I don't want to leave. I have never felt like this before.

She knew he moved behind her. She felt something cold at her asshole and a sharp pain. She whimpered. He was forcing the neck of the beer bottle into her ass. She could feel him twist and push it, working it past the tight ring of her anal sphincter. It felt as if her asshole were being ripped to shreds. She began to sob loudly. He worked the neck of the bottle to the point that it flared. Fucking the neck of the bottle in and out of her ass, he watched her carefully. As he pushed the bottle back in each time, he pressed a bit hard on the shoulder of the bottle until her ass started to expand. Slowly, he fucked the bottle in and out until, with the last hard push, her ass stretched around the widest part of the bottle. He gave it a brutal shove leaving just an inch or so was visible outside of her. She was blubbering. Tears rolled down her face and snot began to drip from her nose.

She realized he was no longer behind her and she twisted from side to side attempting to see where he was. She could not locate him. She was afraid to move lest the bottle slip all the way inside her and become lodged there. She had read the horror stories of people losing objects up their ass and being forced to go to the hospital to have them retrieved. She heard him behind her and to her horror she heard the sound that a cell phone makes when it takes a picture. He moved around her taking pictures of her from every possible angle. When he was done, he laid the cell phone on the table and, without fanfare, ripped the bottle from her ass. She gasped and emitted a deep long moan.

"Standup and turn around."

She obeyed instantly. Her stretched ass complaining with every movement.

He held the bottle out to her. She could see the rim flecked with feces.

"Take this and put it in the trash."

She gingerly took the bottle and moved quickly to the kitchen, depositing the bottle in the trash. By the time she got back, her ass, while still tender and feeling like it was gaping open, was at least tolerable. He was sitting facing the TV. She moved beside him and knelt. He looked down at her.

"When you get home tonight, you'll wake your husband and fuck him. You will fuck him until he cums. Clean his cock just as you have done mine. Rearrange your schedule so that you can be here every Tuesday for the foreseeable future. Do you understand?"

She looked at him wild-eyed, almost fearfully but answered quickly.

"Yes Sir."'

"Good. Then get dressed and go home. The door will lock automatically behind you."

He turned his attention back to the TV and it was clear that she was dismissed. She stood, went to the bedroom and dressed. When she returned to the living room, he never looked at her or gave a hint that she was even there. She left, heard the door lock behind her and got in her car. She sat there for several minutes just staring into the darkness.

What the hell just happened? She had never acted like that with any man before. I could have left at any time. Why didn't she? He treated me like a whore, someone to just fuck and then toss away. no. not toss away, . . . to put on a shelf until he had a need again. Why now was she willing to put up with that for this man?

She shivered. She knew the answer, but even in her own thoughts, was unwilling to voice it and have to admit it to herself.

She started the car and drove home. When she entered the bedroom, Bret roused slightly and rolled over to look at her. She went to the bathroom, took off her clothes and dropped them on the floor. She came back and crawled onto the bed. Brett was still in that half-awake half-asleep state. He felt her take his cock and begin to stroke it. When it was rigid, she swung a leg over him and guided him into her cunt. He came fully awake as she began to fuck up and down on it vigorously. He was dumbstruck and could only lay there and watch her tits bounce up and down as she fucked him intensely. In the gloom of the dark bedroom, he thought he saw something on her breast, a mark he thought. He lost the thought, becoming suddenly aware that he was going to cum. He arched his back, his hips lifted, and a stream of sperm fountained up into her. He collapsed back onto the bed and watched, amazed, as she slipped down the bed and began to lick and clean his cock and balls. When she was done, she crawled up beside him and rolled into a ball and was soon asleep. He, on the other hand, lay for a long time trying to figure out what had just happened.

The next day Bret got a call.

"Bret, this is Randy."

"Hey man, what's up?"

"Did you have an interesting night last night?"

"Hell Yes! What the hell do you do to her."

"I just gave her a better understanding of respect."

"Well, whatever it was keep doing it!"

"How was she this morning?"

I don't know she wasn't up when I left."

"Ok. She is going to make some excuse for having to be out until midnight on Tuesdays for a while."

"I take it she is coming to you?"

"Yeah. Now listen close. In two weeks on Saturday, she is going to come up with an excuse to be gone from the middle of the day Saturday until noon Sunday. Don't make to big an issue of it. Let her make her excuse."

"Ok."

"I want you to clear your schedule as well."

"Ok. Why?"

"We are going to begin your education."

"What?"

"You want to learn how to deal with your wife, so she is like she was last night all the time?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Then just do as I say. I will call you for lunch next week. Plan on lunch and then an afternoon getting some things you will need."

"OK."

"I'll call you later."

Bret sat at his desk wondering what this education was all about. He shrugged. Randy seemed to know what he was doing, and the changes Brett had already seen were enough to convince him.

                                                                            %%%

Bret got home that afternoon and found Pat laying by the pool. He came in and tossed his briefcase on the couch before heading to the game room. He filled a glass of beer from the tap, opened the door to the pool and stepped out. She jumped, startled, and grabbed a towel wrapping it around her waist as she stood.

"What's up?"

"Ugh. . . nothing. . . just getting a little sun."

"Where are you going. You want a beer or some wine?"

"No. . . not now. . . I need to go upstairs for a bit."

He watched as she hurried off, the towel wrapped around her waist. That was strange as hell. She was usually happy to parade around with her ass and tits hanging out everywhere. He went back into the game room and turned on the TV.

Upstairs Pat dropped the towel and looked in the mirror. On either side of the bikini bottom she could see the bruises from the leather belt. Some of them were still tender to the touch. She pulled the strap on the top down and uncovered her nipple. The welt across her nipple wasn't nearly as angry looking but even the material of the swimsuit seemed to aggravate it. She gently pulled the strap back up. Digging around in the drawer, she finally found the wrap that had come with the swimsuit. She put it around her waist and then checked to make sure everything was covered. Satisfied, she went back downstairs.

Bret was sitting watching some sports show when she entered the game room. He looked over his shoulder at her as she came in.

"I need to talk to you for a minute."

He gazed up at her.

"Sure."

"The manager at the gym has asked if I will take over Jen's classes on Tuesday night. She has something going on with her mother being sick and can't do them anymore."

"So, you are going to be out till after midnight every Tuesday?"

"Yes."

He sighed.

"They can't get anyone else?"

"Apparently not."

"If it has to be, I guess it has to be."

She nodded and started to turn.

"Hey, could you pour me another beer."

She shot a look back over her shoulder.

"Is your leg broken?"

She turned and continued on her way.

He turned back around to the TV with a smirk. Back to normal.

The rest of the week was quiet. They went to a party at the country club on Saturday evening and she was her usual chatty, flirty, bitchy self. She wiggled her ass and pushed her tits against all the men, aggravated all the women and did her best to totally ignore him. He sat and watched her as he drank scotch.

I wonder how many of these sons of bitches she has fucked?

She slept until after noon on Sunday. He went to the golf course and when he got home there was a note on the table. She had gone to get a manicure and have her hair done. She would be back later. He shrugged, wadded the note up and tossed it toward the waste basket. She came in about 5 o'clock, announced she was going to dinner with some of her girlfriends and promptly left again. He grilled some brats and watched some old western movies. About 11:30pm his phone rang.

"Bret, its Randy."

"What's up. It's a little late for you isn't it?"

"Ah. . . no. . . actually not. I got to ask you a hard question."

"Ask."

"Is Pat at home?"

"No, she is out with some of her girlfriends."

"She is out all right. I just spotted her at one of the dance clubs downtown with some guy about half her age."

"No Shit! I had a suspicion that something was going on. Did she see you?"

"No. I was in the manager's office and just happened to catch her on one of the security monitors."

"What the hell are you doing at a dance club?"

"The owner is one of our clients. I come down to meet with him here. This is the middle of his workday."

"Ah. That makes sense."

"So, what do you want me to do?"

"Randy, right now I don't give a shit. You do what you think is best. I am leaving it in your hands."

"Ok ol' buddy. I will deal with it. Oh, before I forget. Wednesday for lunch and then the afternoon?"

"Done. Where for lunch?"

"Let's go to that hole in the wall bar where we used to hang out near the university. I haven't been there in ages."

"Sounds like fun."

The phone went dead. Bret sat in the dark room lost in thought.

I don't even care. Fuck the bitch. If she wanted to slut around town, let her. If Randy has a solution, so be it. Otherwise, I'll just let the lawyers sort it out and take the financial hit.

                                                                               %%%

He was asleep on the recliner when she came in. She was carrying her shoes, eased through the backdoor and tiptoed upstairs into the bedroom. She undressed, leaving clothes laying everywhere and crawled into the bed. She didn't sleep at first. She was thinking about the evening. Ryan had met her as planned and they had gone to the dance club downtown. Ryan was more than 20 years her junior. He was tall, tanned and a college student. He thought he had hit pay dirt to have a gorgeous cougar to parade around. He bragged to all his fraternity brothers about her and what they did including the sex. He had taken her to a cheap hotel on the edge of town and they had checked into a room. As she undressed he caught sight of her still bruised ass and went ballistic, wanting to know how that happened, did her husband do that vowing to kick his ass. She quieted him down telling him it was the result of a game she had played with some friends and was nothing. He finally got himself under control and they landed in bed. He was young, healthy, enthusiastic and in good physical shape. He had tremendous endurance if he didn't have a lot of finesse. The problem was she couldn't cum. The harder she worked, the more apparent it became that she was just not getting there. She faked an orgasm. Ryan, in his typical fashion, rolled over and went to sleep. She let him snore for about 20 minutes. Shaking him awake, she told him she needed to go home. Now all she could think about was why she couldn't orgasm. The upcoming Tuesday evening filled her thoughts.

Bret woke up the next morning, rushed upstairs and into the shower. When he walked out of the bathroom, he did a double take when saw her ass shining up at him from the bed. The redness had gone but the bruises still told the tale. The more he thought about it the more he smiled. He quietly got dressed and headed to his office.

Tuesday came. Bret was at work and Pat was trying to decide what to wear to Randy's house. She guessed it really didn't matter since she was going to take it off anyway. She shrugged and went down to the pool, opened a cold cola and grabbed a left-over brat that she found in the refrigerator. She heated it up in the microwave, wrapped a piece of bread around it and sat on the pool deck. She was almost done where her phone rang. She looked at the number and didn't recognize it. She answered quickly.

"Hello."

Pat, this is Randy."

"Hello Randy."

She literally cooed at him over the phone.

"Just shut up and listen. When you come to my house this evening wear something suitable for a club. We are going out for a while."

"OK."

"What did you say."

She gulped.

"Yes Sir."

"Better."

The phone went dead, and she discovered she was shaking. She was also wet, and her nipples were hard.

How the hell did he do that?

She looked at the clock. It was just after noon, and she decided to swim then lay in the sun for a while before getting ready.

When she pulled up in front of Randy's house, she looked at the clock. It was 5 minutes to 6. She hurried to the door and before she could ring the bell she heard his voice and the lock clicked.

"Come in and come to the pool."

She went in turned right and went to the end of the hall. He was just getting out of the pool. He was naked. She stopped and inspected him. He wasn't in bad shape for someone his age and that massive cock made her mouth water. He looked at her as he took a towel and dried off. He folded the towel and put it in the hamper, stacking it neatly with the other dirty towels.

"You are punctual that is a plus."

He returned the inspection. She had chosen a rather short black leather skirt and a cream-colored blouse. The blouse was just short of being shear enough to see through. She wore 4" heels. Satisfied with the way she looked, he nodded.

"Come with me."

He walked past her and headed to the bedroom. Once there he pointed to the left of the chair he used and nodded. She went quickly and knelt. He went into the huge walk-in closet and when he came out a few minutes later he was dressed all in black. Black trousers, a black knit crew neck shirt and a black sports coat over that. She had only ever seen him in jeans and a polo shirt. His hair, starting to grey at the temples made him look. . . distinguished. . . that wasn't really the word she was looking for, but she couldn't quite place it. He picked up his everyday pocket carry.

"Come on."

She popped up and followed him. He led her back down the hall toward the pool but turned into another door. It opened into the garage. She stopped and looked. There was the usual Honda four door that he drove. Sitting next to it was a fire engine red . . . something. It was the most exotic thing she had ever seen. Her knitted eyebrows were enough of a question.

"It's a Bugatti Veyron. It will do 285 miles per hour from the factory. Get in."

She went to the passenger side and opened the door and paused. The low-slung sports car, the small door and the very short skirt posed a dilemma. He was already seated behind the wheel.

"Get in!"

She gritted her teeth, put one foot in and then slid in as best she could. The leather seat and the leather skirt grabbed each other. The skirt bunched in the back around her waist. The front of the skirt rode up to the top of her thigh. She pulled her other leg in exposing her crotch completely in the process. She tugged at the skirt. She struggled for a moment until he barked at her again.

"Close the fucking door."

She pulled the door shut and sat there with the skirt barely covering her panties. She heard the engine as it roared to life. The whole garage seemed to vibrate and she could feel the vibration through the seat. She smiled.

At least that had a nice feel to it.

The garage door went up and he backed out skillfully. As he accelerated down the driveway she was pressed back into the seat. It took only seconds for the car to be traveling at an enormous rate of speed. Once on the highway he stayed within the speed limit. She was overwhelmed with the car. She sat in silence watching the scenery pass. He was silent as he drove.

She wasn't paying much attention when he pulled up to the valet parking. She looked out the window and nearly fainted. They were at the dance club she had been at on Sunday with Ryan, He swung himself easily out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition. She jumped as the door opened and the parking valet grinned down at her, his eyes not missing the condition of the skirt. Randy barked at her from the curb.

"Get out."

She swung her legs out and tried to stand but the deep bucket seat and her angle made it impossible. He stood waiting on her. She kept expecting him to offer her a hand, but he just stood impassively looking at her, getting more and more impatient.

"God Damn it. Come on."

She finally managed to pull herself out of the car. In doing so, her legs splayed wide apart, and the valet driver got a good view of her panties stretched tightly over her smoothly shaved pussy. She stood and smoothed the skirt. She was beet red. Her anger boiled and she was about to spit a nasty comment at Randy. She saw the look in his eye and bit her tongue. He took her arm, holding it by the elbow and walked her into the club. The doorman called him by name and the bar manager came out to speak to him. As they walked past the bartender he spoke as well. Bret steered her to a door at the end of the bar, knocked once and she heard a voice inside. Bret opened the door, pushed her in and then closed the door behind them.

Inside a large plush office, Pat was greeted with a huge mahogany desk behind which sat a diminutive old man with a bald head. He was pecking at a laptop with two fingers. When Randy came in, the man stood and came around the desk smiling.

"Randy, my boy. It's good to see you."

The old man ran feral eyes over Pat.

"This is the one you were telling me about?"

"Yes Sir, Mr. Jacoby."

"Well. She is a pretty I will give you that."

"Are we ready?"

"OH yes. . . yes. . . I have it all ready."

Randy turned her to face the TV on the wall. The old man went to the shelf beside the TV, punched a couple of buttons and suddenly the screen filled with the dance floor of the club. She audibly gasped. In the middle of the screen, she saw herself dancing with her young college student. She watched in horror as she saw Ryan work his leg between hers. She wanted to crawl under the couch as she saw herself begin to slide up and down on Ryan's thigh. The screen was filled with the image of her as she turned her back to Ryan and moved her hips suggestively, grinding them. She turned to face Ryan and blatantly rubbed her tits on his chest as he smiled broadly. They were surrounded by all of his friends who stood in a circle, watching, jeering, and urging her one. Several were taking video with their phones. She remembered it well. The alcohol, the thought of all those eyes on her and what might happen had been a huge turn on.

The screen went blank, and Randy nodded to the old man.

"Thank you, Mr. Jacoby."

"Your welcome Randy. Glad I could be of help."

"May I borrow your office for a few minutes."

Of course . . . I will go and check on the bar and the DJ. You take your time."

The old man left. She looked at Randy with a mixture of fear and embarrassment.

"Would you like to explain that to me."

Suddenly her anger flared.

What right did he have to question her about what she was doing.

"I don't think I have to explain anything to you about what I do when I am not with you."

Before she had finished answering his hand flashed and the now familiar sting and burn on her cheek caused her to step back and mew. Her ears rang, her eyes watered and she had to take a step back to keep her balance.

"I stand here for your husband. You will tell me exactly what you were doing here."

Her eyes were blurry with tears. She had her hand pressed to her cheek.

"Nothing. . . Dancing . . . having a good time."

"And what did you tell Bret you were doing?"

"I told him I as out with a girlfriend."

"That didn't look like a girlfriend."

She blinked back the tears. Her cheek was still stinging.

"Who is that?"

"Ryan"

"He looks young enough to be your son. Are you fucking him?"

She looked at him in desperation. She didn't want to answer but she knew what would happen if she didn't. She stammered as she answered.

"Y . . . Y . . . Yes."

A contemptuous glare filled his face. She could see the cold hardness of his piercing grey eyes and she had to look down to avoid it.

"Call Ryan and tell him to meet you here in an hour."

She looked at him her face filled with horror.

"I . . . I can't. What are you going to do . . .?"

His hand flashed again, and her head snapped to one side. Her other cheek turned red and was now on fire as well.

"Call him."

She opened her purse and took out her cell phone. Trying not to sob she pressed the button and heard Ryan answer.

"Ryan, this is Pat."

"Hey Baby! What's up?"

"Can you meet me at the dance club in an hour?"

"Sure! Did you ditch your old man?"

"Just come."

"I will be there!"

She hung up the cell phone.

"Come with me."

He turned and walked out the door. The old man was at the end of the bar. He checked to make sure she was following.

The old man looked up and smiled.

Mr. Jacoby, may I use one of your private meeting rooms for about 2 hours?"

"Sure. Which one do you want."

"The smallest one will be fine."

"You know where it is."

"Thank you."

He turned to her. His voice, friendly and smooth when he spoke to Jacoby, turned hard. The tone sliced like a knife when he spoke.

"Come with me"

As she walked past the old man, he looked at her with the same feral stare. He saw her bright red cheeks and the tears. He shook his head and went back to talking to the bartender.

Randy stopped to talk to the doorman for a few minutes and then led her down a short hall. He opened a door and turned on the light. Inside was a small meeting room. It was set up for a private party with some round tables scattered about.

In the middle of the room he turned a chair to face the door and sat. When she just stood there, he nodded to the floor. She knelt beside him. She was thinking hard.

He has embarrassed me for the last time. Wait till Ryan gets here. He is thirty years younger, heavier, taller and an athlete. He will take care of this. Then this will be over, and I will be able to put it behind me. I can live without it. I don't need it. I don't need him.

Time passed and he sat quietly. In about an hour they heard voices. The door opened and Ryan walked in. He looked around, saw her kneeling on the floor and his eyes flashed as he growled at Randy.

"What the fuck is this?"

"Come in boy and shut the door."

Ryan slammed the door shut and stalked forward. He stopped when Randy stood.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I am her husband's best friend."

"Yeah, so what?"

Ryan looked down at Pat.

"What is this? Are you ok? What happened to your face? Is this the asshole that did that to your butt?"

She didn't answer or move. Randy's voice was low, cold and steady.

"Answer the boy."

She looked up.

"Yes."

Randy watched as the young man took a step forward as he spoke.

"Why you old fucker. I will break you into firewood."

Randy stood impassively as the young man accelerated forward, hands outstretched. Pat watched. Her mind thinking that this was going to be good. Randy seemed to simply step aside and in a blur of motion, Ryan was turning in the air. The young man came down solidly on his back on the hard floor with a loud thud. He lay there stunned, groaning. Randy looked at him. Pat was dumbfounded.

Holy Shit. He isn't even breathing hard. His hair isn't even mussed. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Of fuck!

"Get up boy."

The young man groggily rolled to one side managed to get a knee beneath himself. His eyes came up and Randy could see the anger blazing in them. The eyes closed to slits, and he suddenly launched himself up and at Randy, screaming.

"That was pretty fancy old man, but I won't fall for it again."

His arms went out wide as he rushed toward Randy, intent on bear hugging the older man and crushing him into submission. His arms swept closed where Randy should have been but got nothing but air. Randy's fist flashed and struck Ryan behind the ear and the hulk of a young man simply folded up like a rag.

Pat sat and watched in amazement. Randy straightened his jacket and walked over to the moaning pile on the floor. Ryan's eyes fluttered open. He tried to stand but instead, retched, throwing up on the floor.

"Boy. Get up, sit in that chair and listen to me."

The young man crawled to the chair. Using the chair seat for support, he managed to get to his knees and then sit. He looked up at Randy.

"Boy. I am going to give you a couple of bits of advice. First, if you want to fuck another man's wife, do it quietly and unobtrusively. There are people who will kill you if you embarrass them. Second, if you are going to kick someone's ass you better make damn sure you have the skills to do it. Looks are deceiving and the old man you see as easy prey man be the one who will kill you. Third. You need to learn to think with the head on your shoulders not the one hanging between your legs. Do you understand me?"

The young man nodded his head slowly.

"Good. Now. I am going to give you a treat before I send you on your way."

Randy looked at Pat and spoke to her.

"Stand up and bend over that table."

She stood and looked at him aghast.

"Did you not hear me?"

She suddenly realized that he was in complete control of this situation, and she had no recourse. She turned and leaned over, resting her torso on the table.

"Boy, stand up."

The young man stood up a bit shakily. Randy walked over and lifted Pat's skirt and pulled her panties down to her knees exposing her ass and cunt. The bruises were still evident. Randy smiled as he noticed the gleam of moisture on her pussy lips.

"Boy. If you can get your cock hard you can fuck her one more time before you leave. After that you will forget all about her. You won't try to contact her. You won't answer her phone calls. If you see her on the street, you will turn around and go a different direction. Is that clear?"

"Yeah."

"You know, your parents did a piss poor job of raising you. You have no respect for your elders or your betters. That will be Yes Sir from now on. Understand?"

"Yes . . . Sir."

"Now get that dick out that you are so proud of and let's see if it will get hard enough to fuck her."

Ryan hesitated, unsure of what was happening.

"Boy. I will not tell you again. Pull out your pathetic cock. You should know by now that I can do it for you if I am forced."

The young man opened his trousers and pulled out his cock. It hung flaccid.

"That's what I thought. You were happy to shove that thing in her cunt before. What's wrong now? There she is, spread open and wet."

Ryan stood, embarrassment cloaking his face. He stood, cock hanging out soft and limp. Randy snorted derisively.

"Fuck! Put that thing back in your pants and get your ass out of here. Remember what I told you. If I find out that you have contacted her in any fashion, you and I will meet again."

The young man rushed to close his pants and then without another word backed to the door.

Randy turned to her. She had her forehead on the table, her eyes closed, and he was sure she was sobbing silently.

"Stand up and fix your clothes. We are going back to my house."

She stood, pulled her panties up and smoothed the skirt. She saw him turn and she hurried to follow. He spoke to the old man on the way out, palmed a bill to the doorman and another to the valet driver. She managed to get back in the car with a bit more grace.

He was silent as he drove. She kept her eyes turned to the side window, her mind a tumultuous storm of emotions.

What happened?. Why did I get so turned on? I wanted Ryan to fuck me in front of Randy. I wanted Randy to fuck me himself. Why didn't I scream for help. There were lots of other people in the club! I could have walked out! I stayed. I wanted to see Ryan kick Randy's ass. I was scared it would actually happen. I was scared Randy would get hurt. I wanted Ryan to take me away. I didn't want to leave Randy. GOD! I am dripping wet, and I can feel my cunt twitch!

Back at his house she climbed out of the car and hurried to catch up to him. He went to the bedroom. She followed him in. He went directly to the closet. She waited a second then moved to the spot by the chair and knelt.

He came out. The jacket was gone. He stared down at her coldly.

"Listen to me. You are an arrogant, spoiled, insolent bitch. You have a husband who loves you more then you deserve. Not only that, but he has also given you the world and you treat him like shit. You act like a whore. You are going to learn how to behave and how to treat a man. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir"

"The first lesson you are going to learn is that you don't fuck anyone unless your husband tells you too. The second lesson is that your husband is to be respected. The third thing you will learn and remember is that you represent your husband all the time and the way you conduct yourself reflects on him."

She listened. It all sounded sort of corny. He saw the look in her eye.

"You want to ask a question?"

"Yes Sir."

"Ask."

"What about you. I fuck you without my husband telling me too."

He smiled.

"Are you sure."

The sudden implication of that answer caused her to gasp.

"Bret knows?"

"That is two questions. I will answer this time."

"Yes. He knows."

She looked at the floor. She was thinking to herself.

That son of a bitch. Wait until I get home.

                                                                     %%%

His next words were like one of his slaps on her cheek.

"You are like reading an open book. Every emotion that you have is splashed across your face. If you are thinking that you are going to give Brett hell when you get home, I would have a second thought. I would also put any thought of a divorce or not doing exactly as I say, out of your mind. I have copies of the video from the dance club. I also have copies of you here sucking my cock like a pro and taking a beer bottle up your ass without a word of protest. I have video of you getting fucked and screaming for more, begging for me to do it harder. They will play well in a divorce court."

Her face fell.

He looked at his watch. It was a quarter until ten.

'Come with me."

He turned and walked out. She hesitated and then leapt to her feet and followed. She caught up with him at a door near the foyer. He unlocked it and turned on the light. She could see a stairway leading down. He nodded toward it. It was dark at the bottom and when they reached the last step, is arm came around her turning on the lights. She stared into a room filled with what she immediately recognized as dungeon equipment.

"Welcome to my dungeon."

She moaned and nearly staggered.

He walked across the room.

"Come here. "

She walked slowly toward him.

"I want you to spend the next hour or so thinking about your place, your attitude and your life."

He reached to the wall and pulled down a pair of handcuffs. He turned her and cuffed her hands behind her back. He then took a long bar with leather cuffs on each end. The cuffs were quickly around her ankles. The bar forced her legs apart uncomfortably. She watched as he took another silver metal bar. At one end was fixed a huge flesh colored dildo. He pushed down on the tube, and she could see that the bar was spring loaded. He lifted her skirt, pulled the panties to one side and roughly rammed the dildo into her pussy. She yelped. She wailed as he pushed it in until it was firmly against her cervix. He attached the bottom of the pole to the bar holding her legs apart. Turning a knob, he adjusted the length of the bar holding the dildo until the spring kept the dildo firmly planted against her cervix. He stood and smiled.

"Remember what I said. I want you to think. I want you to think about your attitude and your place as a wife. "

He turned and walked up the stairs. The lights went out and she heard the door at the top of the stairs shut and lock. In the dark, impaled and unable to walk or move she began to sob.

At 11 pm he turned off the TV and went back downstairs. She was still standing where he had left her. Her face was a mess with mascara running down her cheeks. Snot was hanging from her nose. She heard him as the lights came on. It took her several seconds to be able to see. When she could focus her eyes, he was standing in front of her waiting patiently.

"Have you been thinking?"

She nodded and then remembering his hands she blurted out.

"Yes Sir."

He smiled.

"And what have you thought about?"

"I have been disrespectful and arrogant and insolent and a bitch."

He looked at her.

"Well at least you learned enough tonight to parrot back my words. That is a start."

He quickly removed the dildo and freed her legs. When he uncuffed her she rubbed her wrists.

"Go home. When you get there tell your husband you are sorry for being a slut and that your affair with the college boy is over. Ask his forgiveness and then ask if you can suck his cock to make up at least a little."

She listened impassively.

"Have you made arrangements as you were told for this weekend."

"Yes Sir."

"You need not make excuses to Bret. He knows where you are going."

Her eyes went wide again.

"Be here at noon on Saturday. You need not bring anything."

Yes Sir"

"Go home."

He turned and went back upstairs. She picked up her purse and started to walk and then winced. The dildo in her pussy had left her cervix bruised and every step was a bit of agony.

She got home and found Bret sitting by the pool.

"Have you talked to Randy?"

"Not since day before yesterday."

"You know that is where I have been?"

"Yes."

"You agreed to it?"

"Yes."

She looked at him coldly.

"You are a bigger son of a bitch than I thought."

She forgot all about her instructions and turned heading to the bedroom. She stopped and turned back to him.

"You can sleep in one of the other bedrooms."

She turned and went up the stairs.

He sat and thought for a moment. It occurred to him that Randy probably did not send her home with those instructions. He picked up the phone.

"Randy you asleep?"

"Nope. Why aren't you? Is Pat not home yet?"

"Oh yeah. She is here."

He told him about the exchange and her announcement.

The phone was silent.

"Don't do anything. I will see you tomorrow afternoon, right?

"Yeah!"

"Good."

At lunch Bret left and headed to the little neighborhood bar where they used to hang out. It seemed dingy and cramped. It was not as cheery as it had seemed then. Randy came in not long after. They ordered burgers and beer.

"Bret. Pat has no respect for you. She really has no respect for anyone. I suspect, deep down, she doesn't have much respect for herself. You've got to take control and make her respect you before you do anything else."

"How the hell do I do that?"

Randy told him about how he had dealt with her attitude. Bret was shocked.

"You slapped her?"

"Yeah. I slapped the hell out of her."

"She didn't come unglued and come at you like a wildcat?"

"She turned docile as a kitten."

Bret shook his head.

"I can't believe it."

"Well, some of it has to do with your attitude as well. You need to take a different look at things. "

"How so?"

"For one thing, you need to deal with her from a position of power. You need to expect her to listen to you and respect you and obey you. You need to exude that air of confidence that says I am in charge and that you expect everyone else to respect that."

"I'm not sure I understand how to do that."

"You do it every day at work. I have seen you when you are dealing with your employees and contractors. They have no problem understanding who the boss is and what you expect."

"That's different. They work for me."

"Bullshit. Would you let anyone else treat you the way you let Pat treat you?"

"No. I guess not."

"What makes her different?"

"She is my wife!"

"So? Does being married mean you have to be a doormat. Does it mean you have to expect less respect?"

Brett thought about that.

"I guess not. I just don't know how to do that with her."

"That's why you are going to school on Saturday night."

"What?"

You are going to the University of Randy, The School of BDSM and get your Master's Degree Come on. We have some shopping to do."

Before the afternoon was over, Bret had a complete new wardrobe. He also had a pair of tight fighting black leather gloves and a spandex hood that conformed to his head tightly but hid his features completely.

Before they parted Randy gave him his last instructions.

"You know where to be at 7:30pm. You will meet Cherry there and she will take you to the party. She will explain everything that you need to know and will be your guide. She is experienced and I have talked to her about the situation. If you have any questions, you follow Cherry's lead. Wear your new clothes and bring your gloves and your mask."

"You are going to be there, right?"

"Oh Yes. So is Pat."

Bret's eyes flew open.

"Won't she recognize me?"

"Only if you get right next to her and she should hear you. That is why I have told Cherry to keep you on the periphery of wherever I am. She will keep you close enough to see and hear but you should blend into the crowd. There will more men there dressed as you are. You will all begin to look alike to Pat. Just don't talk. If you need to talk to Cherry, back away and do it quietly."

"Ok. I hope you know what you are doing?"

"Trust me."

"I do."

Saturday morning at about 11am Pat walked in and looked at him sitting at the table.

"I am going to Randy's house so your friend can fuck me."

He looked at her without saying anything. She looked at him derisively. As he heard her car speed away, he picked up the phone and dialed.

"She is on her way."

He dropped the phone on the table and went back to watching the baseball game on the small TV in the breakfast area.

She arrived about 45 minutes later. She didn't hesitate at the door. He was sitting in the living room reading a book. She saw him put it down after carefully marking his place.

"Let's go. We have shopping to do."

This time they took the Honda. He drove it as skillfully as he did the Bugatti, and it wasn't long until he parked in front of a small boutique.

"Come on."

She followed him inside and found herself in an eclectic collection of antique clothing, leather goods and modern apparel.

"Donna, are you here?"

"Be right there."

Pat watched the door from the back of the store and a rather plump young woman with purple hair came out. She had piercings in her lips, her eyebrows and multiples in each ear. She walked up and hugged Randy then looked at Pat.

"Is this her?"

"Yes."

The younger woman looked her up and down.

"Leather or fabric?"

"Leather."

"Under bust or over bust?"

He looked at Pat as well.

"Over."

"Garters?"

"8"

"Panty?"

"No."

Shoes?"

"We will pick them out now."

"What else?"

"A collar, a leash , a good sized ball gag and a pair of black steel cuffs."

Pat listened. She had no idea what they were discussing. Then the woman took her by the arm.

"Come on sweetheart, let's try some things on. First you need to strip."

Pats eyes darted around the store. They were near the front, a vast expanse of plate glass. Anyone could look in.

"Pat, strip."

Her eyes begged him. His face was impassive. She slowly began to remove her clothing until she stood in the middle of the store stark naked.

Donna returned with a leather corset. She showed it to Randy, and he nodded.

"Raise your arms honey."

Pat raised her arms straight over her head. The woman put the corset around her from behind then reached in front of Pat and began to fasten the long row of metal hooks that closed the garment. When they were all fastened, she put her hands inside the cups and adjusted Pats breasts. Pat blushed as she felt the woman's hands touching her.

The woman put her hands on Pats shoulders and maneuvered her to a post in the store that supported the roof.

"Hold onto that pipe. Hold on tight because I am going to really pull."

Pat felt Donna begin to tug and work the laces. The corset became tighter and tighter. It became increasingly more difficult to get a deep breath. She felt as if her insides were being squashed. Finally, the tugging and pulling came to an end and the woman exclaimed out of breath.

"Done . . . Randy what do you think?"

Randy looked at Pat from several angles.

"I think that will be fine."

The woman touched Pat's shoulder and motioned for her to follow. As they walked across the shop Pat managed to look at herself in the mirror. The black leather corset had trimmed at least 3 inches from her waist. Her breasts already large, seemed to be about to spill put of the top of the leather cups. It made her already striking figure even more impressive. At a rack on the wall the woman stopped and looked at Randy.

"Fishnet, nylon or silk?"

"Silk."

She smiled.

"Only the best huh? Seams, or no?"

"Seams."

"Cuban heels or blocked?"

"Cuban."

The woman opened a package. Pat watched as Donna carefully rolled a stocking.

"Lift up your leg."

Pat lifted her leg. The feeling of the silk going up her leg was almost soothing. Pat was mesmerized as the woman expertly rolled the stocking up and adjusted the seam until it was perfectly straight. Donna attached the four garter snaps adjusting them to keep the stocking smooth and taut. Pat's other leg went equally as fast.

Donna turned to Randy again.

"Shoes. How high?"

Randy looked at Pat.

"6 inch."

Donna raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Open toed or closed?"

"Open."

"Ankle straps?"

"Yes locking if you have them."

Donna nodded and disappeared into the back of the store. She returned with a box. Pat stood silent as Donna removed a pair of black patent leather open toed stilettos. The heels were six inches. The arch on the shoe was extreme.

"Lift your foot."

Pat lifted her foot and felt the shoe go on and then the straps pulled tight. She put the foot down and gasped. The extremely high heel meant that she would be walking almost on tiptoe. She heard Donna again.

"Other foot."

When Pat raised the other foot, she was forced to put her weight on the one in the shoe. She had to reach out to a rack to steady herself. The other shoe went on. Donna rose and examined Pat from head to toe.

Pat stood shakily. Her calves almost instantly began to complain. She had to stick her ass out and throw her shoulders back exaggerating her breasts and butt. Randy smiled.

"You do good work Donna."

"Thanks. Now the other things."

She gathered the items he had requested and put them in a bag. He handed her a wad of cash. She counted it and nodded.

"Let me get your change."

"Keep it. You deserve it."

Donna gleamed and tiptoed up to give Randy a kiss on the cheek.

He turned to Pat.

"Come on."

"But. . .But. I'm naked from the waist down."

"I know."

"People will see."

"I know."

She sobbed.

"What about my other clothing?"

"Donna will package it and send it to my house."

"Aren't we going to your house?"

"No, we are going to where the party will be. I'm the host and I need to make sure everything is ready."

He drove to an area almost an hour outside of town. There, in a metal building set in the middle of a field, he pulled in and parked close to the door.

"Get out and come in."

She opened the door, stepped out carefully and followed him.

They entered a room that had tables set around a central area. In the center was a collection of the same kind of equipment she had seen in his basement. At the far end was a raised platform with a head table. Along one side was a long table with the equipment for a buffet and on either end a bar. Doors led to the kitchen and to the restrooms. He walked toward the kitchen with her following carefully behind. A woman came out in a chef's uniform, saw him and hurried forward.

"Randy. I wondered where you were."

"Is everything coming along ok?"

"Great. The only thing we are missing are the people."

"Excellent. I can always count you."

He turned to Pat.

"Lenore. This is Pat."

"Hello Pat."

Pat looked at him.

"You may answer."

"Hello Lenore."

Cherie looked at him.

"She is well trained."

"Not as well trained as you might think."

Cherie looked at her again before hurrying back to the kitchen.

Randy led her to a small room off the kitchen. It had a couch and several chairs. He pointed to a chair.

"Sit."

She sat carefully staying bolt upright. He left without saying anything.

Pat, left to her own thoughts was again mired in confusion.

He treats me like I was a thing. No one has ever done that. I should be ripping off these goddamned heels and running for help! Why do I let him do this. He has the videos, but I could deal with that! I can always claim he seduced me or drugged me. But I don't. I keep coming back.

She squirmed on the hard wooden chair.

Jesus! I am already wet. I don't even know what he has planned, and I am getting so turned on I feel like I could cum any minute.

Randy walked around the room and inspected every detail of every table and every piece of equipment until he was satisfied. He looked at his watch and dialed a number.

"Cherry. Has he arrived yet?"

"When he does, call me just before you leave."

"Good."

Bret drove slowly into the unfamiliar part of town. He finally saw the number on a building and pulled into a parking space. He was dressed much like Randy in dark trousers and shoes, a black button down shirt and black sports coat. The gloves and hood were in his pocket. As he got out of the car a petite woman a bit younger than him came out of the door, locked it, and smiled at him.

"Bret?"

"Yes. Cherry?"

"That is me. Come on. I will drive. I know the way."

He nodded. She turned to a car parked just down the street. It was a new Dodge Charger Hemi. He was impressed. Before she started the car, she dialed her phone. She only said a few words.

"On our way."

She brought the beast of a car to life. It thundered and she drove it to its potential. Despite her petite frame, she handled the car like a pro.

"Randy said I should fill you in on how this will work and what to expect."

Yes."

"The setup is that you are a Dominant and I am your submissive for the night."

He looked at her.

"I have no idea what that means."

"Don't worry. Follow my cues and everything will be great. Randy wants you to watch him and how he acts, how he conducts himself, how he reacts and deals with people. Pay attention. Randy is a master's Master. There are none better than he is. You can also watch the other Dominants. They will mostly be dressed a lot like you are. They will be carrying themselves in much the same way as Randy but when you finally begin to see the difference in him and them, you will understand. Since I am your sub for the evening. I will be on a leash, and you will hold the leash at all times. Do not ever let it go."

"Why?"

"With a few exceptions, a Master who drops his submissives leash is basically telling everyone that she has disobeyed or disappointed to the extreme that he is either going to punish her or is giving anyone else permission to use her. In extreme cases, if the Master removes the collar, he is removing any claim he has to her, and she becomes a free submissive."

"That is bad?"

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

"For a submissive it can be a horrible emotional experience. No good sub ever wants to disappoint her Master. To be summarily released would be like a curse. No real Master would ever want to own her again."

Randy's forehead furrowed in thought.

This is a whole different world I am about to enter. Best be on my toes.

"What if I have to go to the bathroom?"

She turned to him and grinned.

"Then I go with you, and I hold your cock and I shake it off and I put it back."

His eyes got wide.

"Randy has told me about the situation with your wife. She will be there tonight on a leash as well. Randy intends that when he leaves with her tonight, she has an attitude change that will carry over to you. It is important that you begin to emulate Randy in the way you carry yourself, the way you deal with people and the way that you expect them to deal with you."

He was looking at her sort of glassy eyed.

"Don't worry. You will get it and you will be fine. When we get to the barn, put on your gloves and your hood. I will get ready, and we will go in. There should already be a number of people there. Just be cordial and friendly. Randy suggested that you not speak. I will talk for you excusing you with extreme laryngitis. What shall I call you?"

He looked at her dumbly.

"I think I shall call you Daddy, Sir."

He blinked.

She pulled up to one side of the building and parked.

"Get your gloves and hood on. Give me a second to get ready."

He began to pull the hood on and get it adjusted. It took him several minutes to get it straight and smooth. He then pulled on the tight-fitting gloves and turned to find her standing outside his door waiting. Gone was the lightweight coat she had been wearing. She was now clad only in a blue under bust brocade corset, blue stockings and matching blue shoes. She was shaved and glistening. Around her neck was a blue leather collar and a matching leash. She handed the leash to him turning her eyes down.

"I am ready Daddy Sir."

He took a deep breath and walked toward the door. Cherry followed along obediently to his left and a step behind. Inside, Randy was waiting and met them. He looked at Cherry and then at Bret.

"Sir, may I speak to your submissive."

Brett heard the question but remained a bit slow on the uptake. He managed to gather himself enough to nod, remembering what he had been told about speaking. Brett listened as Randy spoke to Cherry. The tone was formal and polite, but there was something different when he spoke to her as opposed to when he had spoken to Brett. There was an expectation, a sense of . . . well. . . mastery. Brett could sense the control just Randy's voice was able to assert.

"Cherry has he been told all the instructions?"

"Yes Sir."

"You understand what I want tonight?"

"Yes Sir."

"You are prepared to follow my lead if things change?"

"Yes Sir"

"What will you call him tonight?"

She grinned.

"He is Daddy Sir, Sir."

Randy chuckled.

"Cherry you are a delight."

He turned back to Bret.

"Thank you, Sir. Have an . . . educational . . . evening and if I can do anything to make it more enjoyable, please let me know."

He nodded and Bret nodded.

Cherry stepped up close to him and whispered.

"Just mingle. If people want to talk, you nod to me, and I will speak for you. I will apologize for your laryngitis."

He nodded and led her toward the bar. He had already decided that a drink was what he needed. He ordered a scotch by pointing to the bottle watching as the bartender poured a fine single malt scotch over ice and handed him the glass. He looked at Cherry and nodded.

"May I have a water please?"

The man handed her a bottle of water.

They moved off. Through the course of the early evening several people introduced themselves and Cherry did an admirable job of speaking in his stead. Everyone was cordial and friendly. Most expressed what seemed to be general concern for his illness. He noticed the manners and etiquette were precise and strict. He began to pick up on the presence of the men. Each of them, to some degree or another had the same sort of strength of character that Randy exuded. He met some of the women who carried themselves in the same way. As he walked about the room, he began to feel the aura of power that these men and women carried with them.

He heard the microphone pop and turned to look at the stage. Cherry moved up close to him. He could feel her touching the back of his arm. Instinctively, he reached back to touch her. On the stage at the microphone was Randy.

"Good evening, friends. Welcome again to our little family get together. Dinner is about to be served. The play area will open 90 minutes after we begin serving dinner. Our Dungeon master's for tonight are Don, Robert and Angela."

Bret watched three people step forward. Two men and a woman. The men, dressed more formally in tuxedos and the woman wearing a long black evening gown. She obviously was not someone's sub. In fact, he had noticed several women who had submissives both male and female on a leash.

Randy left the stage as the servers started putting the buffet on to the serving line. People began lining up. Cherry leaned into him.

"Best get in line. You will have a choice. You can feed me off your plate or allow me to get my own plate."

He nodded.

He was constantly watching. He saw how the submissives responded to the Dominants. He saw how the Dominants responded to one another. Cherry watched him closely and smiled as she saw a subtle change over the short time they had been there. Randy had told her that Brett was smart, a quick study and, even though Brett didn't recognize it himself, had all the qualities of a Dominant. She followed along vigilant lest he make a major error, but she soon relaxed. He was carrying himself a bit differently. He seemed a bit more confident. He led her to the serving line and when they came to the plates, he took his. She looked at him. He shook his head no. She smiled.

He heaped his plate with food and led them to a table near the back of the room away from the head table. Randy came from a side door leading a woman on a leash. Brett realized it was Pat. He wished they weren't so far away. It seemed that she was gagged and handcuffed. Randy led Pat to the raised platform, and she carefully negotiated the step in the extreme shoes. Randy sat and Brett saw that Pat disappeared behind the table as she knelt.

Bret pulled his chair from the table and noted that the tables, usually meant to seat 8 only had four chairs. The answer to that question came when Cherry knelt on the floor to his left. It wasn't long until three other couples joined them. It was awkward not speaking. He made a quick decision speaking hoarsely before Cherry could speak.

"Thank you pet. My throat is feeling better. I believe I can talk a bit."

She looked at him wide eyed as he began to converse with the others. The transformation was subtle but noticeable to Cherry. He was carrying on a congenial, if raspy, conversation. The topics ranged from sports to business. Brett was somewhat surprised that the dinner conversation was much like any other dinner party until the woman who had taken the seat to his left motioned down to Cherry.

"How did you meet little Cherry? Everyone in the place is curious about how she ended up on the end of your leash since the last party."

Cherry held her breath. Brett took a swallow of water from his glass.

"We were introduced by a mutual friend. There seemed to be a connection. My friend noticed it and invited me to attend tonight, and Cherry agreed to accompany me?"

"Oh. So, the leash and collar are not permanent?"

Cherry, wide eyed and not sure what was about to happen glanced from the woman to Brett.

"That, I think, remains to be decided. Suffice it to say that she would be a fine addition to any household."

"I can't agree more. Neither would half the dominants in the room. Most of them have tried at one time or another to entice her into a collar but she seems determined to remain free."

Cherry finally breathed as the conversation drifted to other topics. Brett continued to feed her morsels from his plate until she felt satisfied. He leaned down at one point and, using the corner of his napkin, wiped a small flake of pastry from her chin. She glanced up at his face and saw something in his eyes. She stifled a gasp as she felt her nipples rise and a small tingle pass through her pussy. Her head immediately went down to shield his view of her eyes.

As the meal wound down, people started gravitating to the play area. Brett saw Randy rise and take the microphone.

"Dungeon Masters and Mistress. The play area is open."

Brett watched with interest as groups of people formed around the various stations. At one point the crowd parted for a moment, and he caught a glimpse of a woman stretched spread eagle and a man using a whip on her. He immediately stood and pulled on the leash.

"Come Pet."

She stood and looked at him, a bit of concern etched on her face. He walked toward the play area and joined the group watching the man flog the woman's ass. When the woman's ass was a bright red, her partner stepped up to her running his fingers through her pussy. She immediately convulsed into a shuddering orgasm. Cherry watched Bret. It was difficult to judge his expression or his reactions with the hood covering his face. What she could judge was the size and stiffness of the erection showing in his trousers. As the man began to untie the woman, Bret stepped away and Cherry fell in behind him. He walked slowly, taking in the various scenes being played out but, Cherry noticed, he was watching the people more than the play. They came to where a woman was tied in strapado. Cherry stepped up and quietly explained how strapado worked. He nodded and watched. The woman was bent nearly double at the waist with her bound wrist pulled high behind her. Her legs were held apart by a short spreader bar. She was wearing a short cocktail dress that the man behind her now had pulled up over her ass. She had no panties and was totally exposed.

Bret watched as the man began to work a short leather whip over her ass and thighs. Several times she yelped loudly. The whipping continued until the bound woman began to moan. Brett was aware that the moans were not those of someone in pain, but those of someone in a high state of arousal and need. As the man worked the leather, he placed one stroke on her pussy lips. She screamed. He repeated the stroke and she wailed again. Bret could see her face and the tears. The man went back to work on her ass cheeks and thighs until the woman was moaning loudly, her hips grinding and gyrating as she sought some relief from her obvious sexual need. Bret watched as the man pulled out his engorged cock, stepped up to the bound woman and rammed his cock home savagely fucking her while everyone watched. When he was done, the woman seemed to be in some sort of daze. He looked at Cherry. She leaned into him.

"She is in sub zone. Her endorphin levels are through the roof. She is so highly aroused that almost anything could cause her to orgasm. He will probably leave her there as long as she is floating. When she starts to come down, he will release her and take her to their table and give her after care."

As Cherry predicted, the man released the woman when she started to snub and sob. Brett paid particular attention as the man walked her to a table near the edge of the play area, sat and pulled her into his lap. She curled against his chest, and he began to talk to her, stroking and touching her gently. Bret saw her smile, kiss his neck and nuzzle in against him.

Just then the crowd seemed to part. Bret saw Randy walking Pat down the middle of the play area. Bret stepped back behind some other people and pulled Cherry with him. He watched as Pat walked past. She was indeed gagged. The extreme corseting was beautiful and the way she was walking was almost obscene. In the middle of the area, Randy stopped.

"This is Pat. She is an arrogant insolent bitch. Her own words. She has cheated on her husband and treated him with disrespect at every turn. Tonight, I ask you, my friends, to help turn her attitude around. Show her how proper people treat each other. If some of you would be so kind as to help me prepare her. I think the whipping frame is the place to be."

Several men rolled the frame into the center of the floor. Several others took Pat and placed her in front of the padded bar, spread her legs wide and cuffed them to the rings at the outer corners near the floor. She was then bent over, and her cuffed wrists put into strapado. Bret heard her groan around the gag. Brett saw that despite her discomfort, she was wet. Trails of her copious juices were visible on the insides of her thighs.

"There she is friends. Teach her well."

Randy walked over to where Bret and Cherry stood to one side and turned to watch.

The crowd milled around a bit and then a man stepped forward with a leather slapper. He began to work it over her ass. The space was filled with the distinctive crack of leather on flesh. Pat tried to scream around the gag but it was ineffectual. She struggled to move her ass out of the way which only made the spectacle more obscene. Bret watch almost horrified until the man laid the slapper on her back, walk to her head, knelt on one knee and lifted her chin. He spoke softly to her, touching her tear-stained cheeks gently and then kissed her forehead. Bret was for a moment confused.

Brett had pulled Cherry around in front of him. She was petite and having trouble seeing so he placed her at his front. His hands were resting on her waist. She glanced up to watch Brett's face as Pat was being stropped. His gaze was fixed intently on the scene. She leaned back slightly into him and felt his hands tighten on her waist.

Pat, finding it hard to breathe in the corset in such a position, listened to what Randy had said. She didn't fully understand what was about to happen until the first stroke of the leather strap crossed her ass. Her head jerked up and an involuntary scream crowded the gag in her mouth. Her mind was a jumble of fragmented thoughts, punctuated by the stinging blows of the leather.

FUCK. Oh shit. What is happening. How did I get myself into this. Why didn't I leave when I . . . . AAAAGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!! Oh God . . that hurts. . . . I can't take this. I have to get loose. AAAAAGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! Oh Please. I will do anything. . . make it stop. . pleasAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG...

Brett leaned down close to Chery's ear.

"What are they saying to her?"

"They are teaching her what it is to be both cherished and owned. There is comfort and happiness in both of them. Together you can find bliss. Each one of them has something different to tell her. How to be happy serving. How to be respectful. How to bring joy to yourself and to others. The most important thing though, is they are showing her that despite what she may think she is loved and cared for and protected."

He leaned down to her and spoke quietly.

"You have this in your life?"

She looked down casting hey eyes to the floor and answered quietly.

"Not yet Daddy Sir. Someday I hope to be cherished and owned."

"It sounded to me as if you have had plenty of opportunities."

"Not the ones I wanted. Submissives always have the choice of who and when to serve."

Brett straightened and turned his attention back to Pat. Cherry felt him move and sighed, then realized that his hands were now on her shoulders and that he held her close to him, close enough she could feel the bulge in his pants pressing against her ass.

Another man was kneeling at Pat's face, touching her gently, using a handkerchief to wipe the snot that hung from her nose. He talked softly, almost cooing into her ear.

Oh God. Please let it be over. What is he saying? I am loved? Wha . . . what does he mean. Someone is beating me to death and then he tells me he loves me? Of fuck. This is a nightmare. How can he be so tender after turning my ass to hamburger?

Brett turned his attention to Pat as man and woman after man and woman used the leather slapper to bring her to agony and then carefully and tenderly expressed their care and understanding to her. The more he watched, the more aroused he seem to become. He was unaware that one of his hands now played with the pert breast exposed above the brocade corset that Cherry was wearing.

Cherry had long since lost focus on the scene. When Brett's hand has first caressed her breast, she had nearly orgasmed. She controlled herself by closing her eyes and leaning back against him for support. By the time the Dominants were nearly through, Randy leaned in close to Bret and spoke in a whisper.

"Your turn."

Bret's head snapped around and looked at Randy.

Randy nodded and looked in Pats direction.

Bret stepped forward and picked up the slapper. He looked at his unknowing wife's dark crimson ass and raised the leather strap. He drove it hard against the unprotected target and it was as if a flood gate opened. He growled and let the slapper fall again and again and again. Pat howled, she screamed, she wailed. She struggled and fought against the ropes. One of the dungeon masters started to step forward. Randy shook his head motioning for him to stop. Brett was like a man possessed. Every frustration, every insult, every derision Pat had ever unloaded on him seemed to be expelling themselves as the leather worked over every inch of her exposed and already well beaten ass and thighs. Cherry reached up and touched his arm. It was like an electric shock went through him. He looked down and realized he still held the leash. Cherry, her hand on his arm, nodded . He laid the slapper on Pats back and led Cherry to Pats head. He knelt and touched her face with his gloved hand. He began to speak to her and a glimmer of recognition passed over her face.

please. someone help me. please. I can't do this.

Pat hung from her arms, her head dangling down. Her once beautifully coiffed hair was now stringing down around her head, limp with perspiration. Drool trailed from around the gag and puddled on the floor beneath her mixing with the snot that hung from her nose. She was cognizant when the strapping ceased again. She knew that there would be a moment of respite as another voice filled her ears with platitudes of caring and tenderness. She was confused. She was troubled by her inability to separate the pain from the touches and words. He mind had focused on a recurrent litany.

please let it stop. please let it stop. someone help me. someone save me. please let it stop please let it stop. I will be good. I will be good. I will be good.

A new voice came to her. In the confused overwhelmed state of consciousness, something clicked.

That voice. Those words. Who is that? Why is it familiar?

When Bret saw it, he pulled the hood from his head. She looked up at him and sobbed. Bret stood and nodded to the two men standing to one side and they immediately released her arms and legs and stood her up. Pat leaned against Bret's chest and continued to sob. He pulled her close and began to speak softly to her again, touching her tenderly. The crowd broke into applause. Pat was openly weeping against his chest, repeating the same words over and over.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Brett saw that Cherry was crying as well. Randy came and stood close.

"Good Job ol buddy. I think it was a success."

Randy took the leash hanging from Pats collar and moved to hand it to Bret. Bret looked at it and smiled back at Randy.

"Sir, I believe she is in your care until tomorrow evening. I am quite well served by this pet and believe she will be happy to continue to do that for a while longer."

Randy looked at him with a new respect.

"Sir, you are correct. I would respectfully request that you and your pet accompany me and my ward home after these festivities for some quiet talk and perhaps some further entertainment."

"Sir, I think that is an excellent idea."

Bret looked at Cherry who was standing wide eyed and then back at Randy.

"If you can accommodate us we will spend this evening and tomorrow with you."

Cherry's mouth hung open as she heard the 'us'.

Randy grinned and almost slid back into his best buddy persona but checked himself.

"My pleasure Sir. I will see you later in the evening. Please do enjoy yourself."

Bret nodded as Randy left with Pat in tow, her head down and quiet.

Bret felt Cherry step up next to him. This time her attitude and demeanor were different.

"Sir, may a pet speak?"

"First, I need to ask you a question or two."

"Yes Sir?"

"You said that a submissive always has the decision of who and when to serve."

"Yes Sir."

"I may have spoken presumptuously. Would you accompany me, as my submissive, for the rest of this weekend?"

"Is it Sirs intention to take pet and treat her like his property?"

He looked down at her.

"It is."

She smiled, but then a cloud seemed to descend on her face.

"May I speak frankly DaddySir?"

"Of course."

"What about your wife? Am I to be released after the weekend?"

"My wife will do as I tell her to do and accept what I tell her to accept. As for you, I think that will be decided as this weekend progresses."

Cherry flushed slightly. She was amazed at the change that had occurred in Brett in just a few hours.

"Sir. This girl doesn't want to just be a fling or a weekend amusement. She needs to be owned, loved and cherished. She wants to belong to someone, not just be a toy."

Her eyes were downcast as she spoke. Brett heard the deep emotion that was behind her words. He lifted her chin to look into her eyes.

"You are owned. You are loved. I think you have been since you touched my arm and brought me back. You are my property."

She gasped and then her face split into a wide beaming grin.

Much later, the crowd was gone and the cleanup crew was at work. Bret sat at the table near the door and Cherry knelt at his side. Her head lay against his thigh and his hand moved slowly over her shoulder. He watched as Randy walked across the floor, Pat walking to his left and slightly behind. They came up to the table and stopped.

"Ready to go, ol buddy?"

"We are!"

Pat looked up at them and at Cherry.

Randy looked at the petite young woman as well.

"I heard a rumor that you had staked a claim."

"Rumor could be true."

"Bret, you amaze me. You went from downtrodden pussy whipped husband to a confident assertive Dominant in just a matter of hours."

"I had two good teachers."

"So how is this going to work? Have you thought about that?"

"I have been thinking on that. I have a wife and you have a big empty house. You know that what's mine is yours and what's yours is mine. I propose that these two are just like everything else we have ever had. I don't suppose there is any reason now either one of us should have big lonely houses."

Randy grinned.

"You are even thinking like a Dominant. Come on. Let's go to my house."

Randy led Pat to the parking lot and Bret led Cherry. As they approached Cherry's car she started to go to the driver's side and he jerked back on the leash. She pulled up short and he stuck his hand out. She bit her lip and handed him the keys.

At Randy's house, Brett and Cherry stood in the living room looking out of the window at the dark of the valley. Cherry was nestled in front of him, his arms around her. He was still holding the leash. He reached up and snapped it loose from the collar. Cherry looked up with a question in her eyes.

"We are home pet. No need for a leash at home."

She smiled softly. Randy came from the back of the house. Pat was walking behind him docilely. He stopped across the room then went to the kitchen to get a beer.

"Bret. Want a Beer?"

"Sure!"

Cherry scurried away to the kitchen and came back carrying the beer and a coaster. She held it out to him and he nodded. Randy walked back in and looked at Pat.

"Pat. You should go say hello to your husband."

She turned and came over to Bret and looked up.

"Hello Bret."

"Hello Pat."

Randy spoke again.

"What did we talk about Pat?"

She knelt and took Bret's hand. She was almost sobbing.

"Please Sir, forgive me for being a bitch and a whore and a slut. I promise I will be good."

Bret looked at Randy.

Bret took Pat's hand and lifted her to her feet.

"Don't let it happen again."

"Yes Sir."

Brett gathered Pat into his arms and kissed her slowly and deeply. She melded against him, arms going around his neck and returned the kiss with a passion he had never known from her. As Brett pulled back, he looked into her eyes.

"What have you learned?"

Her eyes dropped as she spoke.

"Sir. I have learned that what I have always wanted was someone to respect. No man had ever demanded that of me until Randy. It took me time to finally understand it."

Her eyes came up to his.

"When I saw your face close to mine all I could think about was how much I hoped you were like that. I want you to be like that. I want to respect you."

"Good girl. Randy has taught both of us a lot. I think it is going to be a much different world for us now."

Pat smiled. Brett looked at Cherry who was biting her lower lip. He could see the concern in her face.

"Pat. This is Cherry. I have claimed her. She is willing but, since I now know that submissives always have the decision, I must ask you. Are you willing to serve me and to accept her into our relationship as well."

Brett spoke to Cherry as well.

"Cherry, you need to also understand that Brett and I are closer than brothers. What I own, he owns and vice versa. Are you willing to accept his ownership as well and to be paired with Pat in that arrangement?"

Cherry moved close to where Pat still nestled into Brett's arms. Pat slipped an arm around Cherry's waist and pulled her close. Cherry seemed to glow with a new light.

"Daddy Sir, I can't think of a situation more perfect."

Randy stepped up.

"Pat why don't you and Cherry go to the pool and get better acquainted. I think you are going to be spending a lot of time together."

Pat looked at Cherry and hand in hand like school girls, they head off to the pool. Randy stepped up to the window beside Bret and looked out over the dark valley.

"Bret. Even I am amazed. I knew that down deep you could be a good Dominant. I never imagined how fast you would transform. That little arrangement you just described never even occurred to me, even though we have shared everything else we have ever owned."

"Yeah. I don't guess this is much different."

"Nope. What's mine is yours and yours is mine."

Bret looked at Randy with a wide grin.

"Can I borrow the Bugatti next weekend?"

Randy looked at him and they both laughed.