The Book Club

After about eight years of a completely vanilla existence, my husband proposed taking on some spice to our life last year. The idea could not have come at a more perfect time. We stopped building a family with one daughter and after finally getting her on the routine schedule of elementary school we began finding ourselves with some true quiet time.

I have read more 'How To's' than I can count and we have teased and tested numerous ideas and requests between us but none seemed to come as naturally as a little bit of Dominant and Submission play. I'm not sure if we can claim a D/S 'lifestyle' but when it came together it came together quite well. We followed the normal protocols of safe words, elevations and drop considerations keeping our respect for each other while also becoming more and more open to the other's desires. Slowly, we discovered that we were becoming more compatible in yet another way.

An exercise I can recommend is one that we planned on our own but, to our discovery, unfolded into a human experience of unexpected discovery and embracement as a complete success for everyone...

I am part of a book club who regularly meets to discuss a chosen reading, authors, or future interest. It's our idea of having some intellectual conversation that sometimes evolves into good girl talk and time away from children and husbands. The feminine bonding is never disappointing and often a well needed break in our lives.

Our group is officially twelve in number but today we could only get five of us together which, during the summer holiday season, was about right. Normally, we schedule a month out to ensure the best chance of participation while juggling home and work schedules and the unpredictable unknowns.

We try to conduct proper meetings befitting the subject; semi-formal wear is agreed upon which allows us to enjoy summer dresses and sandals or flip flops while enjoying beverages and a little cuisine. Everyone contributes a well-choreographed pot luck to provide a meal to buffer the flowing wine that commonly results in us calling Ubers in good sense. These gatherings have brought us closer together and often also allow us a little therapy and honest confessionals that, if not just for ourselves, are healthy for all.

This particular meeting found us at my home on a sunny Saturday afternoon. The subject was 'Summer Island' which we had all been reading over the past month. My husband John usually excuses himself from these affairs but today I explained to everyone that he had elected to stay home on the other side of the house in privacy and work.

After about an hour and into the second bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, I noticed the first of our club excuse herself to the bathroom -- it was Carol, a housewife and mother of three of many years whom I had met through one of my husband's work parties. We had hit it off immediately having much the same interest and lifestyle at home.

As Carol came back to the table, she seemed razzed and stumbling...

"I walked in on John." she said. "I'm sorry, I didn't know...I just opened the wrong door!" she continued.

"It's OK, he is actually there for you to see." I replied.

"What?" The look on her face was precious.

"Yes, I was just surprised it took someone so long to discover him." smiling wryly.

"He's in there, by himself..." she stammered. "He's in there tied up."

"I know I said, it's our way of discovery and coming out; let's see if anyone else finds him now."

She looked back at me in disbelief but then the slightest of a grin crept into the left corner of her mouth. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Absolutely." I said with confidence.

"Really? I'll give everyone about five minutes until I nudge someone else...is he ok in there?" she asked.

"He is great and has been looking forward to this all week. Trust me, he is more than willing."

Her smile demonstrated her belief as she turned back to the group and picked up her glass.

Maybe ten minutes later Sarah stood and asked to confirm the direction to the bathroom -- "Right that way" Carol replied, "Just open the door."

I sat in suspense to see if another had stumbled across our private surprise. In that briefest of seconds, I wondered if this was really a good idea. I mean, I've shared a lot with these ladies and we've all become very close with absolutely no disruptions to our friendships, but now I was stepping out of a known comfort zone between us. Am I making a mistake with this? Have I assumed too much? Am I reckless here and even disrespectful to my friends? Apprehension suddenly crept into me. Even if Carol had a surprisingly playful attitude that did not mean the other three wouldn't take great offense.

Just as I was judging myself and reweighing the probabilities and consequences, Sarah returned to the room. I watched every move she made for some sign of surprise or question. Sarah was beautiful, with a long lithe body she often wore wrap dresses with short modest heels very effectively highlighting her long legs. Even I often noticed her with some envy and admiration.

Here, nothing. Sarah stepped back up to the couch, sat down, smiled briefly to Carol, and then picked up her glass "Where are we?" she asked. Nothing, not an inkling of finding, if she had found John, she was wearing the most exceptional poker face I had ever seen. I guess she missed the room completely.

About an hour into our meeting was when the hostess usually began reheating the accumulated pot luck brought in to share at the table while conversations ensued. From experience, this is usually when the subject matter livened up a bit as the previous wine on empty stomachs combined with some good food to loosen up our tongues.

I rose to return to the kitchen trying to decide in what order the dishes should be reheated and tabled. The cheeses and meat tray first of course, then the dip, and then the brisket brought out with the vegetables...

As I brought out the tray and dip, I noticed three girls leaving the room, Rachelle, Carol, and Sarah were walking out while Isabelle and I watched..." Hey, where are you guys going?" I asked without answer.

I quickly sat the items down as the butterflies increased in number and ferocity in my stomach. I walked after them with Isabelle at my side. As I turned the corner, I saw the ladies actually passing the bathroom and just breaching the threshold of the office entering without pause.

As Isabelle and I entered behind them I hear her gasp beside me -- obviously she was the only one who, at this point, had no inclination in the content of our office.

"My, my, my...what do we have here?" Rachelle was the energy of us, big, bold, beautiful and often without filter she keeps us honest and grounded. An accountant by trade whom I met as our kids' school together. She says she needs the quiet of numbers and spreadsheets to best enjoy the energy that comes when those are absent.

There, in the office, stood John. He was completely nude except for a chrome penis cage. His wrists tied to the desk legs which allowed him to lean on the desk in a picture of almost regal effect, notwithstanding sans clothing. He finished out with a request of his own -- a bite gag. He was worried what verbal exchange might be had if or when anyone discovered him and thought it would be more considerate of the discoverer to just say or do what she wanted.

My husband John is not a bad looking man. He works out regularly but still has the slightest Dad bod which gives him an endearing quality. He is fairly well endowed and, when selecting a cage, I wanted to make sure that his was complimented by the adornment.

"Is this a bit of BDSM?" Rachelle asked.

"Yes, with a smattering of requested humiliation." I answered.

"Mm hmm, deep...I like it" she said.

As a minute of observation progressed Carol, the first girl to discover John, then rejoined the conversation...

"Ya know...it seems a bit of a waste for John to be in here for hours while we're actually in the other room..."

There was a palpable pause in the room and it was Isabelle who next broke the silence..."Yea, I mean, we could use someone to pour the wine, serve the food, and clean up after don't you think?"

The suggestion surprised us, the statement surprised us, and the originator surprised us. Isabelle is the quietest and most reserved of our group. I often wondered if she attended our meetings as therapy for her introversion. A dedicated homemaker she often provided a domestic family pragmatism to our problems. I was always struck by how much she could balance the considerations of husband and wife.

You didn't have to look to feel smiles creep across every face -- including Johns. I glanced at him and the look of exclamation was undeniable. We had just stepped up to another level without even planning it.

I took my que -- "John, would you submit to serving the party today?"

John nodded emphatically and the smiles increased in size.

The girls began to file out of the room looking at each other with a couple of suppressed giggles and I stepped up, with unreserved excitement, freedom, and even enjoying a little control and untied John. Out of our play contract I had to ask, "Are you OK with this?"

I didn't even need to ask; his eyes spoke volumes. He was nearly shaking with excitement and desire. He stood and I followed him into the kitchen and he looked back for direction.

"Let's try keeping the wine glasses half full and ensuring water and food remain full on the table." I directed. He shook his head in agreement and walked off with purpose.

We tried in vain to return to the subject of Kristin Hannah and her book but the elephant in the room reigned but I couldn't detect a single objection or discomfort among anyone. John approached a couple of times to refill glasses while at the same time removing plates in an efficient manner -- I don't remember him ever saying that he had experience as a waiter.

"Laura, just a thought, might there be an apron John could be wearing? I mean, it wouldn't take anything from the scene but it also might negate the chance of a wayward hair." Carol suggested.

"You are absolutely right" I agreed. "John, please grab the tan apron out of the pantry and put it on -- thank you." Then, quite unexpectedly...

"Should we be using his name?" Isabelle blurted out.

"I'm sorry?" I asked.

"Should we be using his name?" the quiet one replied with a straight face. "I mean, if he is in true service then he should hold a certain station not at all in equal to ours."

I looked over at Isabelle as she sat ankle and legs together, skirt over her knees, and upright as a school head mistress. As resolute as she was conventional.

The suggestion floored me as the unplanned developments never seemed to be fall short. The most reserved of us all just made the most decisive and dominant statement yet. How little did we really know of each other?

Rachelle agreed "She's right Laura, maybe we should call him something more in line with his function to us."

Surprised yet again, I was wondering if I was going to even be able to control the speed and progress of the situation...what was happening here? Have we started something that can't be controlled?

"Man. Easy enough" Isabelle offered having been the quietest and the most unknowing to this point.

"Man, it is." Agreed Carol.

To be continued...