An Unacceptable Lifestyle

Would things, like her demands in bed, get worse if she continued to go there? What other bizarre things would she let them do to her? What had they already done to her? At the moment she was only going twice a month, what would I do if she wanted to do it more often. Then there was the question of why she had completely ignored me when I told her I didn't want her to go there again. When the omelette arrived I still hadn't made any decisions. I was also beginning to wonder if I had any influence at all over my wife.

It was nearly an hour later after I'd finished my second pint when I left the pub, not forgetting to drop a fifty-pence piece into the tin and recording the time as twenty-one minutes twenty seconds. The seconds were going to be important.

I was greeted back home with a hug, and a warm kiss and asked if I'd had an omelette or a burger? Our conversation was completely ignored, with no mention of it all evening, not even when we went to bed. Then all she wanted me to do was cuddle her.

By Monday evening I had considered all my options and had made up my mind to tell my wife I wanted her to stop going to the club. I waited until we had eaten, cleared everything away and were sitting in our favourite chairs, me with a nice malt and Samantha with a glass of Chardonnay.

It was obvious by the way she was looking at me that My wife knew exactly what I was going to say. "You want me to stop going to the Club anymore, don't you, Darling."

I almost told the Bitch, not to darling me, but held my tongue as I glared at her.

"Well, don't you?"

I was angry, but I don't want her to know. "Yes, I want you to stop going there." I didn't even want to say, Private Club, it conjured up too many visions in my head. "I can't bear the thought of you being hurt like that."

She completely ignores what I had just told her. "What if I tell you I need to continue going and the next time is Friday week?"

That took me by surprise. "Why do you need to continue going?"

She stared at me for several seconds. "I think you know why?"

Why can't the Bitch give me a straight answer? "How the hell should I bloody well know why you need to go there?"

"Oh My God. Tom, can't you work anything out. I need to keep going there because I'm a submissive masochist and you are totally incapable of treating me like one."

It must have taken me several moments before that totally unbelievable statement registered in my brain. "Say that again," I told my wife.

"I'm sorry, Darling but I had no idea until the newbie evening just how much I enjoyed being submissive and forced to do naughty things by dominant men." My wife gave me a very apologetic look. "I've asked several members why this had happened to me and they all say the same thing. I had always been like it and the Newbie Night was just the catalyst I needed."

I tried to get my confused mind around what my wife was telling me. "What the hell does all that mean."

"It means that I enjoy pain. I'm a submissive pain shut. I like it when dominant men do a painful thing to me while other people watch as they force orgasm's out of me."

It was all too horrible. I had one question I needed to be answered. "Where does all this leave us, Samantha?"

She stood up came to me and sat on my lap. "Tom, Darling. If you still want me as your wife just as much as I want you as my husband, then you will have to accept that occasionally you must allow other, more dominant men to use me for a few hours." Then she looked straight into my eyes. "Can you do that, Darling?"

And then fuck you all night because it's their reward for whipping you, I told myself. Could I do that? Accept that dominant man used my wife for a few hours a month. At the same time live with her as though those nights never happened. Could I also accept that these same dominant men were also fucking her? I'd accepted that Bruce had been fucking her for a year and from what she'd told me, he still was.

It boiled down to one thing, really. Though I didn't respect her I used to, I still loved her. But did I still love her enough not to want to give up her wonderful pussy?

Then I looked straight back at my wife's eyes. "I can try," I told her, though I had other thoughts. Then added. "But only if I never see any signs of what they have been doing to you, ever again."

"I can do that but it may mean I will be away for more than just one night on some

occasions. Perhaps on those occasions, you will be able to stay longer with Susan."

Much later that night, when my wife was sound asleep and the bedside clock said two-thirty, I was still wondering if I could ignore my wife's Friday night activities and still maintain a normal married relationship with her.

The next time I spent the night with Susan after we had fucked a couple of times, I told her all about my wife's ass and what she had told me about the Scene Master and Bruce. She was very sympathetic.

"Did you do what she wanted," she asked me after her sympathy had extended for over fifteen minutes.

"No, of course not," I told her.

"Oh, so you still don't know if you'd like it."

I just shook my head.

"Perhaps we should try it sometime." Before I could reply she was kissing me very sympathetically again.

The arrangement with my wife lasted for three months. When her Friday nights at the club came around, I was finding myself very welcome in Susan's home. On two Fridays Stephany told me not to expect her home till Sunday evening and on one occasion she told me she was wouldn't see me again until Monday evening after work. On those weekends I stayed with Susan till Sunday afternoon.

Between her visits to the club, I tried to forget about my wife's other life, as I now called it and we both tried to live as normally as we used to. It was difficult for me on some of the Saturdays when she returned from the club but Samantha did everything she could to make it easier for me.

Sex with my wife was the one thing that I tried to accept could never return to how it was before her first visit. The more times she went to the club, the more intense and frequent her needs became until love-making became almost non-existent.

Eventually, I realised that I could not keep up with her because she needed more than I was capable of giving her. I know she tried to tone it down for me but that only left her frustrated.

That's when I turned to Susan.

As I said, our arrangement lasted for another three months. That was because it took me the last two months to build upon the relationship that Susan and I already had. Eventually, I convinced her that I was a man she could give both her trust and her love to.

I don't know if my wife expected me to tell her I was seeking a divorce, but she took it well. Perhaps she already knew someone who could share her sadomasochistic lifestyle better than I could.

I do know that after Samantha bought my share of our house, Bruce moved in with her. Other than that, neither Susan nor I have heard anything more about them.

Susan and I were married a month after my divorce. We both wanted a new start so now, five years later we are living very contentedly in a friendly West Country community. We are the owners of a successful tea room for which I help Susan make all the cakes. We also have our lovely yacht moored in the local harbour.