Servant Day Pt. 04

Dan picked at the label on his beer bottle as he talked, peeling it off bit by bit in a distracted fashion.

"And it's wrong to think of it as Rebecca 'bossing me around'. If you ignore the rules and the game aspect, all we're really doing is taking turns to take the initiative during sex, and that's great." He looked at Jack. "Look, if Emma said to you, 'we're going to have sex tonight, and I'm going to shag your brains out; all you have to do is to let me have my wicked way with you,' would you really say no?"

Jack considered this. "Fair point," he added after a while.

"When it's my turn to be the servant," Dan said, "it's not me doing all the work -- it's Rebecca. Yes, I'm the one doing the cleaning and scrubbing and whatever, but she's the one making all the decisions -- what I wear, what tasks I do, what kind of sex we have, and when. She's the one taking responsibility for making it a pleasurable experience for both of us. All I have to do is enjoy it. And that's wonderful. I can't think of anything better -- except, perhaps, when it's my turn, and afterwards, she tells me that she enjoyed the whole experience that I arranged for her."

He dropped bits of bottle label into the barbecue; they sizzled and shrivelled in the coals.

"Like any part of a marriage, communication is the key," he said. "After each session, we talk about what was good, what was bad, and why they were good or bad. Maybe that new thing we did this time was the hottest thing ever, and we should definitely do it again. Maybe the servant was left alone a bit too long, and what was supposed to be tantalising tipped over into boring. Maybe everything we did was great, and that new outfit we ordered online looked sexy as hell, but the fabric is itchy and the fit means it rubs in all the wrong places. Like I said, it's important to me that Rebecca's feeling fulfilled, and when she's in charge, as long as I'm doing as she requests, then it's her responsibility to make sure she's getting her rocks off in in the way she wants. And knowing that she's taking care of herself is very freeing -- it means I don't have to worry about it, because she'll tell me what she needs, and when and oh god I've just heard myself talking. Christ, I sound like a pompous wanker, don't I?"

Jack gave a bark of amusement.

"I mean," Dan continued. "I meant everything I said, but do I have to be such a sanctimonious arse about it? Why didn't you say anything, instead of letting me go on and on in such an insufferable way?"

Jack roared with laughter.

"Some people get violent when they're drunk. Some get maudlin. Apparently, I just turn into a pillock. Whatever you do, don't let me have any more beer."

"Nah, bollocks to that, mate," Jack said. "Push on through it. More beer!"

***

At the end of the night, after Dan and Rebecca had left, Jack and Emma were in the kitchen, finishing clearing up.

"I think that went well," Emma said, as she loaded the dishwasher. "So lovely to actually see people face to face again."

"Too right," Jack agreed. "Bit of a surprising afternoon, too, though. All that stuff Dan was talking about."

"Oh, yeah," Emma said. "I have to say, when I first asked Rebecca how they kept their place so tidy, that was not the answer I was expecting."

Jack scraped debris off plates into the bin, and stacked the plates on the counter near the dishwasher for Emma to load. "Wouldn't really have pegged Dan to be into all that nonsense."

"'Nonsense'?" Emma said, with a slight catch in her voice.

Jack didn't notice. "All right. Poor choice of phrase. You know what I mean, though. It's a bit weird, right?"

"Well..." she said, straightening.

"You don't think it's weird?"

"I think it's a clever way of keeping their sex life varied and interesting, and a varied sex life is a good thing."

Jack was surprised. Emma hadn't expressed these sorts of sentiments before. "You think our sex life needs more variety?"

She picked up the plates he'd stacked, and started slotted them into the dishwasher. "Well, we have gotten into a bit of a routine. And--" She looked like she was going to say something else then stopped.

Jack frowned. Where was this coming from? There it was again, that nagging feeling that he was coming up short in the bedroom. "Hang on, are you saying you're finding sex boring? Or that you're not enjoying it?"

Emma stood up, and retreated into the corner of the working top, hugging her shoulders. "No, of course I'm not saying that. I like having sex with you. I love having sex with you. But we're in kind of a rut, doing the same thing each time. And some nights I'm in the mood for that, but other nights I'm in the mood for something else."

Jack crossed his arms. "You've never mentioned that before."

"Of course not," she said, throwing her hands in the air. "Look at you! We're just talking in the kitchen, and as soon as I mention I'd like something different, you've gone all defensive. You've tensed up and everything, like you're getting ready for an argument. If I brought it up while we were doing it, it would completely kill the mood." Her voice softened. "And I don't want that. I want you to be enjoying it, too."

"Okay," Jack said. "Fair point." He made an effort to uncross his arms, and tried to relax a little. He thought about what Dan had said, about making sure Rebecca was fulfilled. "I'm sorry, Ems. I'm listening now. What is it you do want?" He reached out to her, touching her shoulder gently.

She too relaxed a little. "Like I said, some variety would be good. But, also...."

"Go on."

"I know it sounds silly, but I'm kind of embarrassed to say what I want and when I want it."

That sounded ominous. "Is it something kinky?"

She shook her head. "No, that's not the point. It's not what I want that's embarrassing -- it's the asking part." She shrugged. "Like I said, I know it's silly, but I feel embarrassed asking. This thing that Rebecca and Dan do, I think it would kind of...." She paused, looking for the right words. "It would give me permission to ask, if you know what I mean. It might help me to not be embarrassed to tell you. I know it's silly."

"Hey," he said, giving her a hug. "It's not silly." He was reminded about Dan's comments about role-playing, and being willing to do what Rebecca said she wanted. He braced himself, looking down at the blonde head that had buried itself in his shoulder. "So, no judgement. Tell me. Do you want to try this Servant Day thing?"

She nodded, and looked up at him. "I think I do. No, wait, that's not right. I do want to. I really want to try it. Is that okay?"

What the hell? he thought. How bad could it be? "Sure, Ems. We can give it a go."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Two goes," she said.

"Sorry?"

"We take turns, once each."

"Okay," he said, nodding. "Two goes."

She gave a cry that was part pleasure, part gratitude, part relief, and flung her arms around his neck. "Oh, thank you! You'll love it, I promise. We don't have anything on for next Saturday night, so let's say that you be the servant then, and afterwards you let me know when you want to return the favour." She squeezed him again. "Thank you!"

That all happened a bit fast, Jack thought, feeling a bit of mental whiplash, but he said nothing, and hugged her back. Suddenly, his bubbly little lady was back again, and everything was all right once more.

"This tidying up can wait until tomorrow, can't it?," she said, breaking the hug,

"I guess so."

"Good. I have to be honest, I thought that this Servant Day idea was the most sexy thing I've heard of in a long time. I talked to Rebecca a bit about it too, and I've been horny all day." She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down to her. "I could really do with us going to bed right now."

Jack wasn't going to argue.

***

In the week that followed, Emma was like a changed woman. She'd always been a bubbly personality type, but his agreement to experiment had ignited something within her -- she was giddy, excited, like a child who was going to Disneyland for the first time. And she was very affectionate, always finding excuses to make brief, intimate physical contact. It was somewhat startling. In a good way, but still a surprise.

There were other signs. He kept sitting down on the sofa next to her, and she'd snap the laptop shut. "No peeking!" she'd cry. And at intervals during the week, several parcels arrived. When he innocently asked what they were, Emma simply smiled in a secretive fashion, and said that he'd find out at the weekend.

He was beginning to wonder what he'd let himself in for.

***

On the day after their barbecue, Emma arranged a call with Rebecca -- the first of several that week -- and asked for advice. Rebecca was delighted that their efforts at convincing Jack had been successful -- at least, successful enough that Jack was willing to try.

"What do you need?" Rebecca asked.

"I don't know. I don't really know where to begin," Emma said.

"Okay, well, I can give you some examples of what I've had Dan do, if that would help?"

"Sounds good," Emma agreed. "It might give me some ideas."

So Rebecca ran through a number of imaginative activities where she'd been able to take advantage of Dan to her heart's content. She also gave Emma some basic advice.

"Safety. Make sure you don't have him doing anything where distractions are going to be a risk. And, obviously, make sure that whatever costume you choose doesn't present a problem, either."

"Such as?"

"Well, don't have tasks that involve lots of spray of cleaning chemicals or hot cooking fat or things like that, if there's lots of exposed skin. Make sure people outside can't see in. If you're using any kind of restraints, make sure you can release him quickly if necessary."

"Rebecca!" Emma said, shocked. Though she shouldn't have been; she'd seen what Rebecca sometimes did to Dan during his turn as servant...

"Basically, plan ahead as much as you can. You're in charge, so you want to be in control at all times. That means controlling the environment as well your man."

"What do you mean?"

"At a basic level, plan what you want to do to Jack, and when, and where, and make sure you have everything you need to hand, ready. If you plan to do some shagging in the kitchen, say, and if you want a condom for that, then plan how you want to do it in the kitchen, and have the condom hidden, in the kitchen, so that you can just pick it up when you need it. If you've got Jack all revved up and ready to go, and then you think, 'hang on, just got to nip to the bedroom for a condom', it spoils the flow. Especially if it turns out the box in the bedroom is empty, and you need to do a quick trip to the shops. Also think about when to hide it; you don't want to be spotted putting things in position because it gives the game away, but you also don't want to hide things too soon in case Jack finds them ahead of time. I like to set up the next phase while I've got Dan busy on the preceding task. If it helps," Rebecca said, "write a list of all your nasty plans and what you'll need -- including when you want any orgasms to happen. But, obviously, keep that list secret and don't let Jack see. Oh, that reminds me," she added. "You should tell Jack, in advance, whether you want him to come or not, at each point. It'll be no good if you have a big finale planned, but he gets carried away and shoots his load just before you move into the big finish."

Now that Rebecca mentioned it, Emma did recall her giving Dan such instructions.

Emma slumped a bit. "This is more work than I thought it would be."

Rebecca laughed. "It's good work, though, right? Be honest -- how wet are you right now?"

"Soaking," Emma admitted.

Rebecca cackled richly. "Just you wait. You've got a whole week to plan this out. You're going to spent the entire time thinking about ways to have great sex. What could be better?"

***

Towards the end of the week, a similar conversation happened between Jack and Dan.

"It's like she's a new person," Jack said to Dan. "I'm a little bit scared, to be honest."

"In a good way or a bad way?"

"I don't really know."

"Look," Dan said, "this is your first time, so my advice is to be gentle on her."

Jack gave a bark of wry laughter. "Me be gentle on her? She's the one who might not be gentle with me."

"What I mean is, this'll all be new to her as well, but she'll be trying to be in charge, so let her be in charge. Do what she tells you, even if it feels a bit weird. Don't try to take the initiative back. Do what she says, when she says. If something doesn't go right, don't take over -- give her the space to figure out what to do and how to fix it, so she can still keep control."

"Okay," said Jack, nodding. "I can do that. I think. I hope."

***

On Friday, Emma gave Jack the first inkling of her plans. "We'll start at five-thirty in the evening," she said, "and we'll probably be done about nine pm. Okay?"

"Okay," Jack said.

"So that means," she emphasised, "from five-thirty onwards, you do as I say, no questions asked, until I say we're finished. Understood?"

A little apprehensively, Jack agreed. He was unnerved about how much she was stressing this "do as I tell you" thing.

"If you feel you need to," she said, "you can call a halt, and we'll cancel it. But I hope you won't. I think you're going to love it, even if it's not what we're used it. I know I'm really looking forward to it. I'm really turned on by the thought of what we're going to be doing tomorrow."

That, at least, sounded promising, and got Jack in the mood. But Emma smoothly rebuffed Jack's advances that night. "Down, boy!" she said. "Busy night tomorrow! I want you with a full head of steam."

***

Saturday. The day had arrived. And Jack had to admit, he spent much of the day in a state of arousal wondering what on Earth was going to be happening later. It didn't help that Emma was drifting around with a smug expression on her face, and kept saying, "God, I hope you're as turned on as I am! I could almost explode!"

Normal things happened during the day: they ate breakfast and lunch. Jack loaded the dishwasher. Emma did some laundry. Jack mowed the lawns. The usual, scruffy hoody and jeans were the order of the day for Jack; Emma bounced about in her t-shirt and jeans. But the odd, unusual thing happened, too; for example, the previously-loaded dishwasher got emptied again without having been run, the dirty dishes stacked on the working top near the sink.

"Something up with the dishwasher?" Jack asked, mentally adding repair dishwasher to the list of jobs to be done at some point over the weekend.

"Nope," Emma said, both serenely and mysteriously. And Jack was back to wondering what she had planned for the evening, an erection growing yet again.

The day crawled by, but then it was 17:30.

"Ready?" Emma asked eagerly.

"I really, really hope so," Jack said, somewhat nervously.

"Then let's go!" she said, delightedly. "You are now mine, for the next four hours, give or take. 'Have him scrubbed and sent to my room!'" she quoted. "I want you scrubbed and dressed and ready by six, so there's no time to lose."

Jack looked over his shoulder at her as she shooed him up the stairs. "It won't take me half an hour to shower, you know."

"We'll see," she said, enigmatically.

In the bedroom, there was a small black leather case waiting on the bed for him. "First, we need to take care of that rainforest of yours down there," she said, patting his crotch, and indicating the case.

When he looked inside, he discovered there was set of hair clippers and attachments. That explained one of the parcels, then. She wanted him to... shave his pubes? "But..." he began.

"Whatever I say, remember?" she reminded him, with an arched eyebrow. Then she relented a little and said, "this isn't like Sampson and Delilah; you're not going to be less manly without that scraggly undergrowth." Still he looked unsure, so she continued: "It's not as if any of your mates are likely to see, and even if they do, it's not like it's anything to be ashamed of." She wrapped her arms around his neck winsomely. "And if by some chance they do, just tell them that you're all neatly trimmed because that way you get more blowjobs from your wife." She reached up on tip-toe and whispered in his ear. "Because you will."

Jack felt himself getting hard. But despite this, he wasn't sure quite what she wanted. "When you say trimmed, how exactly...?"

"Oh, you know. I know you've seen loads of porn films. Like the guys in those." She pulled back a bit. "What? Oh, you mean your attention wasn't really focused on the guys? Well, then." She untangled herself from him, went over to her bedside cabinet, and removed a folded piece of paper from the drawer, which she handed to him. "This should give you some inspiration, then."

Jack unfolded the paper. It was a colour printout of several photos of guys' groin areas. The penises were all flaccid, but it was clear to see that the groins had varying degrees of shaving, from "short" to "completely smooth", with a few other styles in between.

"Don't worry about trimming too close to the balls -- I don't want you to nick yourself and put yourself out of action for the rest of the night. I'll see you downstairs in the living room at six. Don't hang about."

She breezed out of the bedroom, and left him somewhat shell-shocked, and somewhat turned on.

Neither Emma nor Jack had trimmed their pubic hair before. Jack didn't have any deep-seated objection to shaving his pubes. It was more that he had a vague worry that it would like being unable to grow a decent beard. Pubic hair came with the transition from a boy to a man -- would people think he was less manly, if he didn't have that growth? But, as Emma had pointed out, what people? Who would be commenting on his (lack of a) bush? And she was right: in porn films, they were shaved. Even Jack had vaguely noticed that, though obviously he'd been more interested in the women in the films than the men.

Not only had Emma torn down each objection he'd considered, she'd also anticipated them, even before they were voiced. She didn't just have a come-back ready -- she had visual aids! Jack was stunned. What had happened to his wife? It was certainly... interesting. And definitely different.

He had almost said, "these clippers are battery-powered -- they'll need to be charged first." But he was no longer surprised to discover that, when he turned them on, the battery indicator showed "Full".

Out of options, he looked at the photos and tried to make a choice.

***

The grooming set included a small pair of scissors. Standing in the shower, Jack snipped away at the curly hair covering his groin and testicles until it was quite short, and selected a 3mm attachment for the clippers. it took a few moments to see how to connect it, but he soon figured that out, and he buzzed away most of the hair on his abdomen, giving himself a five-o'clock shadow. He trimmed around the top of his thighs with a longer attachment, so that the hair there didn't intrude into the groin area. He struggled to shave his balls -- no matter what he did, he couldn't get the skin to be smooth enough to avoid the worry he was going to nick himself, so he made do with longer hair there (though still far shorter than when he had started). On a whim, he moved to the shortest attachment, and removed his new five-o'clock shadow completely, leaving his abdomen as smooth as he could make it, albeit a little like a plucked chicken, in his opinion.