Switch

"Really hard?" said Ana. Devon sighed and gestured at Mark as if to say, "Go ahead," and Mark went ahead and followed his directions.

"You might want to put one foot on his shoulder," Devon recommended. Ana did as she was told, put one foot on her husband's shoulder and was shocked at how skilled he was. She leaned forward. Devon took a few steps towards her and behind her and paddled her once on the rear.

"What was that for?" Ana asked, outraged. Mark never looked away from his duties.

"I was wondering how that felt for you."

"It hurt," Ana responded.

"I know it hurt, but did it feel nice?"

"Not in the least," Ana said and returned to feeling her husband going down on her and had a change of heart. "You know. I think we've learned all we need from you here." She put her dress on, clenched her purse, and said, "C'mon Mark."

Mark said, "Just give me a few." Ana sighed and left to the car.

Mark turned to Devon and sincerely said, "Thank you."

"Please leave, Mark." Mark left.

Ana and Mark drove home together that evening. Ana noticed the effects of that evenings events on her husband.

"So that really works on you?" she asked.

"Yes it does," Mark said, with a hint of defensiveness.

"I can do that." And they shared a smile on the way home. The next night Ana wore a pair of tight skinny jeans and a bustier along with some spiky heels she purchased. They tried the events of the previous evening together. Alone this time. Without Devon's guidance this time. "Take off my pants," Ana would say, and Mark struggled with them over her heels. She wore somewhat sexy lingerie underneath. Mark wondered how long that would last, how long she would keep up the act. She told him, "Lick my nipples." He did. It was anticlimactic for them both. She was running out of ideas of what to tell him to do. "Lick my nipples, lick my pussy, what else is there?" Meanwhile Mark was sitting obediently in his collar, the chain to which was lying on the floor, unattended to. Mark felt ill at ease. He felt uncomfortable. He didn't feel 'fixed.' He didn't feel like he was getting his fix. He knew right then and there it wasn't going to work with his wife, but he gave it another week. Ana continually tried to be a Dom and continually ran out of ideas and made Mark feel uncomfortable. Finally, Mark had enough.

Fuck doing the right thing, Mark wanted to do the wrong thing. Fuck what you are supposed to do. His wife spent her entire life doing what she was supposed to do and look where it got her. Fuck being a good person, he wanted to be a good little boy. He took off his collar and threw it in a bag. He threw some shirts and pants in a bag.

"What -what are you doing?" Ana asked.

"I'm leaving. You never loved me. You never will." And with that Mark never said another word to Ana. Only through his lawyer. Ana was unkind to Mark in many ways. She misunderstood him in so much of his life, his love of Science Fiction, of Tango, his intellect. But there was a part of her that wanted to ease his tension. Not out of love, but out of a self serving need to fix the husband she had chosen for herself, for her perfect little middle class life. And ultimately, she couldn't handle what it took to fix him, to alleviate his stresses. She was too normal, she was too insipid, she was too biscuit.

Mark went straight to Devon's apartment from the house with his bag. Devon knew immediately what had happened when she saw him and let him right in. She was relieved to see him. She was not the wrong choice for him. She was not the wrong woman. But now was the tine to come clean. Now was the time to tell Mark everything.

"Mark. Now that you're here there's something I need to tell you," said Devon.

"You're not seeing someone else. If you've already started seeing someone else I understand. You're a very beautiful woman and a really good dancer. It's not Bob is it? I just really had hoped that we could be together."

"No stop. It's not that. Exactly. An ew. No. It's not Bob."

"What are you talking about?" asked Mark.

"Well, you know how being submissive is a release for you? A release of tension? Relief from your anxieties?"

"Yeah."

"It's the same way for me."

"What do you mean it's the same way for you? How do you know it's the same way for you? Is there some other guy out there that you're being submissive with? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"No. Not exactly. It's a woman. I pay her," Devon said.

"You pay a prostitute?"

"No not a prostitute. A female Dom. She's in the neighboring town. There's no sex involved. Just Dominance and submission. That's it. It's a relief from all the pressures for me. She's highly trained." Mark sat quietly. He felt betrayed.

"It doesn't matter that there isn't any sex. To know someone as a submissive is to know someone in intimate sexual ways. To have someone be your Dom is to have that person be the one and only object of your desire. In a sense, in many ways, you are cheating on me," Mark accused.

"I need to do this. I am not crossing the boundary of sex with this woman, but this is something that I need. Something you can't give me. And, as your Dom, this is a way you can never see me. Never." Mark sat quietly. "There's no sex. If you want to be with me, you have this part of me. Remember that I love you," Devon reassured, "She's got a PhD in psychology. She's like a therapist." Somehow, that made it all sound better, he remembered all the 'therapy' he'd received from Devon. He understood what she might be going through. He grabbed her hand.

"Okay. How often?" he asked.

"Twice a month. For an hour."

"That is like therapy," Marked commented. "I love you too."

During these sessions Devon had to do much of the same things Mark had to do for her. She had to lick the Dom's boots. The Dom wore squeaky, shiny boots and Devon particularly liked this. The Dom was particularly fond of and well versed in suspension bondage and that always made Devon feel quite beautiful to hang there, exposed and vulnerable to any onlooker or passer by. Devon's absolute favorite, the activity to which she looked forward the most, was spanking. Devon loved to get paddled. After a paddling Devon would run to the mirror, lift up her skirt, pull her panties down (she always dressed demurely for these sessions), and inspect her red ass, caressing its inflamed skin as if it were a delicacy. This was a side of Devon Mark would never see, a side Mark could never see, or she would loose all control over him. But she had to tell him about it to maintain an open and honest relationship with him. He took it well. They were together now. They could find a new place together. The appliances could be turquoise.

Mark and Devon made a home together in a neighboring town. They practiced a BDSM lifestyle daily. They had a turquoise vintage style kitchen, a red leather sofa, and gold sheets on their bed. Seeing as how Ana was out of the picture, they were able to resume Tuesday night Tango lessons in addition to Thursday night ones.