Five

The bar was in the basement level of a large brick building that was originally a warehouse. A busy seafood restaurant occupied the ground floor. Acadia went down a long flight of old, wooden stairs, and was met by the buzz of people crowded around a rustic bar area holding their drinks and engaged in animated conversation. Acadia spotted a large dance floor, an area that had been repurposed with twenty round tops to accommodate the guests that wanted to listen to the live music.

The traffic was unusually light for a Friday night, and Acadia arrived so early that the trio was still performing a last minute sound check. There was a small stage to accommodate the saxophone player, a bass guitar and a drummer. She was the only person in the audience so she staked out a table in the front row.

A tall, wispy blonde stepped off the stage and approached Acadia's table, sitting down in the empty chair across from her, placing her drink down on the wood plank table top. She was wearing a torn pair of jeans and a black V-neck top. Acadia recognized her as the bass player from the picture posted outside the bar.

"Sandra," said the blonde, extending her hand across the table.

"Acadia."

Acadia was only off balance for a moment. The blonde was a beauty. Acadia was used to attention from attractive men and women, but Sandra was something special.

"That's a lovely name," the blonde said. Her voice oozed sexiness.

"My parents met when they were park rangers at Acadia National Park." It was Acadia's pat answer to that comment. She tried to banish the sexual attraction she felt as she was still regaining her balance.

"Sorry to intrude, but I had to meet you." She was already out of her chair with one foot on the stage.

"Why?" Acadia asked.

Sandra paused there, with one leg up on the stage. "We don't get a lot of fans that dress like you. I think you'll find that almost everyone that will be here will be pretty casually dressed. At first I thought you were my ex-husband's lawyer." She laughed. "But even at $450 an hour, she doesn't dress as well as you do."

"Thank you ... I think ..."

"No ... no," Sandra said, interrupting her, "I meant it all as a compliment. I like the way you dress. You look someone who wants to get their way ... and does."

Acadia was surprised that the conversation had taken a more serious tone. She decided to be candid with Sandra, even though she had only met her moments before.

"I do like getting my way. I always have."

Sandra came back to the table and waved to the waiter for service. Acadia gave him her drink order.

"I think it's what makes me successful," Acadia added.

Sandra was convinced of Acadia's strong will, and decided to tell her something that would change the twenty-eight year old brunette's life.

"I've got to finish the sound check. Hey ... give me your phone."

Acadia reached into her purse and fetched her phone. She unlocked it and handed it to the blonde.

Sandra entered in a web site address.

"Go ahead and look at this site. If you're interested, I'll be around after the show."

She handed the phone back to a puzzled Acadia. She had met a lot of people both socially and professionally, but none like Sandra. She pushed the "Search" button and a website popped up ... the same one David accessed ten years later. She saw it featured domination and submission in a farm motif, a seeming non sequitur for her. Her interest was piqued when she hit the "about" button and read a short statement about the mission of the website.

This is a nationwide association of dominants who enjoy sharing their submissives with others. All activities are consensual and all participants are at least twenty-one years old.

The remainder of the page was filled with pictures of dominants and their submissives. Black bars covered the eyes and genitals of the participants, and most of the pictures appeared to have been taken in one of the stalls in the barn pictured on the main screen of the website.

The subject of the pictures was alone enough to titillate Acadia, even with the black bars, with scenes depicting spanking with a bare hand or a rod, submissives, both men and woman, their nipples weighted down with clamps, and women with strap-ons pegging their submissives. But it was the emotion on the faces of the participants that captivated Acadia. She had never seen this depth of expression, both pain and euphoria, sometimes at the same time, and that's what triggered a deeper curiosity than the porn she had looked at many months before.

She clicked on the "Members" button, but access was denied without a passcode. She set her phone aside and noticed that the floor area had filled, and that the band was about to start their first set.

* * *

Acadia decided to stay after the last set was over and finish her drink. She could have left earlier, but was hoping that Sandra would come by again. She got distracted with a work e-mail. Her concentration was broken when she heard the scrape of the chair on the other side of the table. It was the saxophone player, a man in his early thirties, handsome, and about her height.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked. He was holding a highball glass and an unlit cigarette.

"Sure," said Acadia, setting down her phone.

He pulled out the chair and turned it around, sitting on it backwards so he could lean his arms on the back. He tucked the cigarette behind his ear.

"Garrett," he said. His eyes were a startling shade of blue. He was as handsome as he was bold.

"Acadia." She extended her hand for a handshake. He turned her hand palm down and then kissed the top of it, looking into her eyes as he did it.

"Pleased to meet you." He gave her a devilish smile as well.

She could tell that he was sizing her up. She had already done the same with him. He was fairly thin, with strong, angular features, and was sporting a two day growth of beard. He was dressed like Sandra, jeans and a black crew neck t-shirt. He was obviously a talented saxophone player, but it seemed as if his acumen extended well beyond music.

"Likewise," she said.

"I understand that Sandra showed you our website."

To the point, she thought. So it was their website. Maybe one of the pictures was of them. Acadia should have blushed but didn't. Instead, she was trying to figure out whether Garrett or Sandra was the dominant. Her guess was Garrett, just in the way he carried himself.

He chuckled, and spoke before Acadia could fashion a response.

"You don't have to respond. Sometimes Sandra gets a little carried away. I'm sorry if it offended you."

"Not at all. In fact I enjoyed it."

Acadia was surprised at her own decisiveness. She wanted him to know she was interested.

Garrett was impressed with her quick and confident answer. He wasn't sure what to expect, but from the little he learned from Sandra, and what he could see from their brief interaction, Acadia enjoyed being in control of the situation. He was interested in how Acadia would react to watching him and Sandra in a scene. The couple had entertained a voyeur guest before, and Garrett thought that Acadia would enjoy watching them, and maybe even join in. He found her to be very attractive, as did Sandra.

He thought for such a decisive woman that the direct approach would work best.

"So Sandra and I are staying at a hotel nearby. Would you like to see what we do at playtime? I'm sure she wouldn't mind, and neither would I."

Acadia only had to think about it for a moment before accepting his invitation. Sandra came over. Garrett whispered into her ear. Her face broke into a smile.

"You won't be sorry," she said.

* * *

Garrett and Sandra were on the road most of the year. Garrett discovered that a hotel's workout facility, after hours, could provide the perfect place for their unique type of play. Before the gig, Garrett had given the security guard $100 for the private use of the workout room for that night.

Garrett fished a plain white key card out of his wallet, inserting it into the slot, and then pulling the heavy metal door open. The lights flickered on. Acadia followed him in, taking measure of her surroundings. Garrett dumped his gym bag on one of the benches. Acadia was watching him with great interest as he took inventory of what he'd brought: Velcro cuffs, a feather, a wicked looking vibrator, a pair of alligator clips held together with a fine chain, a length of rope and a fifth of Jack Daniels.

Garrett went first to the Jack Daniels, taking a generous swig, and offering it to Acadia. She declined.

"Me and Jack go way back. He goes where I go," recited Garrett, as if Acadia had asked the question. He took another swig and put the bottle back in the gym bag.

Acadia was so taken with Garrett that she had lost track of Sandra. Garrett's wife had already stripped and was sitting on one of the yoga mats in the inspection position. Acadia was impressed with how relaxed Sandra looked, presenting herself, and clearly wanting to be used. It was a sexy position for Acadia to see -- a sub opening herself wide, inviting the dominant to play with her emotions as well as her body.

Garrett was much more playful about it, absorbed in his toys, and thinking of ways to tease, and please, his wife. He offered Acadia a place on the bench to sit and watch. She was still in her business attire, so it was an interesting contrast to see the fully clothed and boardroom ready Acadia, and the naked, wanting, Sandra.

Garrett took a pair of the Velcro cuffs and fastened his wife's wrists to the top of a steel cage that encased a weight lifting machine. Sandra's arms were now stretched over her head. She was straining a bit, as her heels were lifted off the ground and she was standing on her toes. He bent over and methodically bound her ankles to the bottom of the cage. She struggled to test them. The cuffs held her tight.

Acadia's blood started rushing when Garrett took an alligator clip and held it in front of her face while the other dangled at the end of the chain that held them together.

"I file the teeth down so they don't damage the skin of the nipple." He flexed it open so she could see the point of the teeth had been filed down. It looked to her like it would still hurt. Garrett anticipated Acadia's curiosity.

"Give me your finger."

Acadia held her hand out, hesitating for just a moment. He opened the jaws of the clip and pinched the skin at the end of her index finger. She winced at the pressure, and then sighed when he opened the clip.

"Sandra likes these. Don't believe what she says," he told her, making sure he was out of earshot of his bound wife. Acadia's blood started pumping again when he held the clip in front of Sandra's face, her eyes widening when he flexed the jaws of the clip.

"You like these, don't you?" he said in a taunting tone.

"No ... no Sir ... please...". Sandra begged as Garrett pulled on her right nipple, extending its length and elongating her already generous breast until stood out at least six inches from her chest.

Garrett ignored her plea and carefully applied the clip to the spot he discovered delivered the maximum pain ... and pleasure, for Sandra. He let the jaws shut slowly, easing his pressure on the arms of the clip.

"Oh God!" Sandra gasped, as the clip finally closed around her nipple, compressing the tender flesh and causing her cheeks to flush. Acadia winced in sympathy.

Garrett heightened the anticipation by punishing her. He knew that the build-up was almost as good as the ending.

"I'm going to add a minute for speaking without permission."

Sandra was squirming against the cold steel, waiting for the other clip, dangling on the chain, to be applied to her other nipple. Garrett gave a couple light tugs on the unused clip, watching as his wife's eyes went wide with each pull. He then watched as Sandra's face skewed as she took the pain of the other clip without uttering a sound.

"That's a good girl." Garrett looked at Acadia when he said it.

Acadia felt a slight shudder at the words of praise. They were spoken in a way to elicit pleasure and she sensed it. She was now understanding that dominance and submission was much more than physical sex -- it was a mind game between the dominant and the submissive. Acadia could feel her nipples ache as she watched the stretched out Sandra. She could feel a wet heat between her thighs, her panties soiled and fragrant.

Garrett ignored his wife's whimpers and went back to his gym bag, finding the extension cord he needed. He plugged in the vibrator ( a Hitachi Acadia later found out). Sandra's eyes fixed on the head of the vibrator as he switched it on.

"No ... Sir ... I can't ..."

Before she could finish her protestation, her husband grazed her clit with the head of the vibrator.

Acadia flinched as she watched Sandra's body immediately stiffen, her eyes opening wide and a near soundless scream escaping her open mouth.

"Please ..." she gurgled, trying to suppress her orgasm.

Acadia's felt Sandra's despair when Garrett shut off the vibrator, leaving her on the cliff's edge.

Garrett leaned over and whispered to Acadia, "the longer the time on the ledge, the sweeter the fall."

He retrieved the feather. Sandra's eyes again widened. The tip of the feather swirled around her nipple, occasionally hitting the alligator clip. The pleasure of the light touch around her overly sensitive nipple was punctuated with a flash of pain. He fastened a small weight to the chain connecting the clips, causing her to groan.

The tip of the feather meandered down to her waist, skipping her sex, and tracing circles on the inside of each of her thighs. Her body trembled.

"Sir ... I beg of you ..."

She knew what he was going to do.

The tip traced closer to her sex, her body now shaking and her wrists and ankles helplessly pulling the Velcro cuffs that were fastened to the steel cage.

He used both hands and released both clips at the same time. Sandra felt the crackle of electricity as blood coursed into her tortured nipples. The feather flicked against her clit.

"Cum," he said.

Acadia had to keep from touching herself.

Sandra shuddered and then a spurt of liquid flooded the floor beneath her.

It was then that Acadia knew that she and her subs would someday grace the pages of their website.

* * *

David

Present Day

Gamma led David through the kitchen to a back entry hall, and pulled out a worn box labeled "sub stuff."

"Pay attention, Five. The next time you arrive here, come in this back door and leave your clothing here. She wants you to be covered more ... no one wants to look at your body and that belly. Here, put these on," she said curtly. There was no tenderness in her voice.

"Yes, OK, thank you."

He didn't think she would respond to conversation as she seemed annoyed with him. He saw what must have been her street clothing and coat on a wall hook. She handed him scuffed black high heeled pumps, obviously in a size to fit adult males, well used. He stepped into them and was instantly off balance, with his hips lifted and legs stressed as he unnaturally leaned forward. Gamma was unsympathetic as he struggled to stand upright.

"Now, these, quickly," she said, thrusting clean, but obviously not new, women's undergarments.

He saw the items she handed him, and once again his cock painfully tried to harden. The elastic on the lime green panties was tired, and the ill-fitting panties looked ridiculous on him, barely covering his hips. The plastic cock cage protruded lewdly and unnaturally in front of him. The tan stretch halter bra lifted his man tits, and the loose gray t-shirt barely covered his belly. He saw the point -- he wasn't being feminized, he was being controlled.

Gamma laughed at his look. Even though she was herself a submissive, she reveled in David's humiliation.

"Not so cool and manly now, hmm?"

She pulled the front of the panties out, to cup her hand around the plastic shell.

"This is your new best friend. It stays on even when you pee and shower. Makes you think ... this is sort of like your man clit now, something to offer for use, but not to put anywhere."

She kept her hand around him and had a big smile as she saw the painful effect as he responded automatically to her perceived touch.

"The bra is a reminder you have tits now, not a manly chest, and your nipples will be more sensitive soon." Gamma slid her hand under the bra to cup his breast and stroked his nipple. "It's also a reminder you are an easy slut now, accepting anyone who wants to use or feel these tits."

She slid a hand over the panties to cup his ass. "Also a reminder, with stretchy silky panties always gripping you -- this is your man cunt now, just one more thing you can offer. I read your survey -- you will be exploring prostate massage for sure. I like the idea of ruining your orgasm, making you cum but without a release." She let the elastic snap back. He flinched, even though it wasn't painful.

"Say ahh."

He opened his lips wider, and she gripped his lips and inserted two fingers, feeling around.

"Suck it." She was chuckling now, as he closed his lips to nurse on her fingers and used his tongue to lick them.

"So, here you are now -- just property -- mouth, tits, clit, cunt, and ready to learn. You will be learning to beg too, not just take it silently. So, thank me nicely, then get to work. I saved the dinner clean-up for you, Five."

He looked at her, young and desirable, and then himself, older and ridiculous. He could see that she enjoyed humiliating him. He realized that he might be enjoying her harsh treatment even more. His thanks were sincere.

"Gamma, thank you for dressing me and helping me to understand."

She smiled at his show of gratitude, and even that smile made his humiliation worthwhile.

He went to the sink, piled with greasy pots, pans, and dishes, turned on the hot water and grabbed the bottle of dish soap. He glanced at Gamma, who had taken a chair in the corner to watch him do all the work. She smirked as she spread her legs to allow him to look up her skirt, resulting in a sharp pain as his cock tried to respond inside the shell with its sharp ribs. He imagined himself mounting her, pushing inside her wet cunt, her fingernails leaving a faint trail of blood on his back. He tried to block the image as he went to work, then imagined himself displayed this way in t-shirt, panties and heels as his cock shrunk back inside the cage.

* * *

David dried the last dish and put it away. His feet ached from standing in the heels for an hour, and his t-shirt was soaked with dishwater. He turned as Acadia came in, with her low heels tapping on the wood floor. She had changed from her dress into an expensive-looking soft sweater and a smooth gray leather skirt.

"Dishes done, Five? Didn't Gamma tell you we have a dishwasher, on the other side of the kitchen?"

His face flushed, he felt stupid now, and Gamma smirked at him. He realized, too, that this was the first time Acadia had seen him in this outfit; he tried to stand taller and suck in his gut.

"Those panties are awful, did you let Gamma dress you that way? Most subs want to choose their own things from the sub stuff box. You look ridiculous, even for a trainee."

He scowled at Gamma; he had just assumed she had authority over him.

"Just stay there, Five. Let's be clear, my girl Gamma here is also just a sub I control, with her own lessons to learn." Acadia motioned the younger woman forward and stood behind her.

"Like you, she gave up her privacy and control."

Acadia reached around from behind and slowly unbuttoned Gamma's white shirt and opened it. She was braless under it, and his eyes went to the curve of her full, weighted breasts. The hardening nipples were pierced with small steel rings with a fine chain linking them. Acadia cupped and hefted them in turn, then slid one hand into Gamma's skirt. David felt his cock trying to harden as usual but pinched by the ribs of the plastic shell.