The Club

Talk on the phone, me, now? You're joking, I thought. I turned my head towards the phone, tried to get my mouth clear of the pillow.

"What?" I asked, my voice still muffled as Troy continued his fucking, increasing the tempo, increasing his breast and nipple stimulation. I could feel myself approaching my peak. I couldn't, not on the phone, not now.

Marilyn's voice came through the speaker. I have no recollection of what she said, but then she stopped, obviously waiting for an answer.

"Marilyn, this is not a good time, I'll ring you back," I said, fighting now to supress my orgasm.

"Oh, OK," she replied, probably realizing why it was not a good time from my breathing and muffled voice, as well as the background sounds of Troy giving me a thoroughly good fucking.

"Stay on the line, Marilyn," called Troy as he redoubled his efforts, obviously wanting me to cum now.

I felt a huge increase in stimulation, not just from his plowing into me, but from the knowledge that every sound was being heard by Marilyn on the end of the phone, and possibly anyone in the reception area if she had it on speaker. Despite myself, I started my usual pre-orgasmic sounds.

"Yes, yes, ohhh, honey, mmmm, like that, ooohhhh, it's so good, yes, darling, yes, ooohhh, I'm gonna cum, yes, YES, I'M CUMMMINGGGGG!!"

I felt the familiar waves of relief pour through me as I had a full body orgasm, my body shaking, trembling, writhing beneath Troy. I felt his hot sperm flooding my cunt and, as though from a distance, I heard a scream of ecstasy, knowing that I was doing the screaming. After a few moments it subsided, and I lay there, panting in the aftermath as Troy picked up the phone and spoke into it.

"See what you're missing out on, darling," he said, "It's yours whenever you want it; your choice."

"Mmmm, it sounded intense," came Marilyn's voice, "I'll maybe have to reconsider. Catch you later." A click broke the connection.

Troy withdrew and lay on his back beside me as I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him.

"So, you want to fuck Marilyn," I said.

"Of course, darling, you know me. If it's got a pussy and two legs, I'll fuck it. But I do prefer your pussy and legs, honey. However, I also wouldn't mind getting Paula in bed either."

Long ago we'd both realized that there was no way we could be monogamous. That would simply be too hard, too limiting and would end up in us parting. So, when we married, we deliberately rewrote our vows so we could include others in our relationship in whatever format we desired. This left me free to accept offers from other men and left Troy free to chase anyone he desired. This had worked well and, once the initial feelings of jealousy disappeared, it had brought a great deal of sexual satisfaction, fulfilment and adventure into our lives. Looking back, it was probably one of the most significant and beneficial decisions we had made and certainly one of the most natural, as humans, like many other animals, were never designed to have sex with only one person all their lives. The vast majority of higher animals sought to spread their genes as widely as possible, it was only humans who had artificially limited this tendency by self-imposed restrictive taboos, which we chose to ignore.

"That's fine, sweetheart," I grinned, "Will I get to watch?"

"Of course, that's half the fun, and I think Marilyn's got a stud of a boyfriend you'll probably want to sample as well. Don't know about Paula though, haven't got far with her yet."

We kissed, fondled each other for a few moments, then climbed out of bed, showered together in our custom-built double shower, then dressed for the day. As the owners, managers, therapists and counsellors in the business, we normally dressed reasonably conservatively when working, seeking to maintain a friendly yet professional appearance for clients. The only exception to this was when we had a session with a client in the dungeon, when we dressed for the role the client requested. We ate breakfast, reviewed the day's program, kissed and cuddled briefly, then left our apartment to go about our daily work.

Marilyn was grinning when I entered reception.

"Sorry to disturb you this morning," she said, after we'd greeted each other, "Mrs Davis called to say her child is sick so she won't be in today. So, I thought I'd better call to let you know there was no hurry to arrive.""

Mrs Davis was my first client, so I was appreciative of the extra time to sort out a few things and do some of the endless admin tasks that always seemed to accumulate.

"Thank you, Marilyn. Um, sorry you had to hear that this morning."

She grinned broadly. "That was no problem. Seems I got a glimpse of you in your natural environment. It sure sounded like you two know how to have fun."

"Oh yes, that's for real. Troy was saying he's been trying to get into your panties but without success. It's fine if you want to; in fact, bring your boyfriend along for a real orgy if you like. We have a very open marriage by choice; we're both free to bring other partners into our bed and to make love with whoever we wish whenever we wish. Please don't feel that you're breaking apart a marriage or anything like that, if anything, it will make our bond together stronger, especially if I fuck your boyfriend alongside Troy fucking you."

"Oh, that's great to know. Part of me wants to enjoy Troy, but being a marriage breaker was certainly the main reason for refusing him. Thank you. See you in bed sometime soon," she grinned.

I chuckled. "Yeah, look forward to it, and if, by some chance, you'd like an all-girl session, please just let me know, although I'm sure there are plenty of strippers as well who would welcome you with open legs."

"So just by the by, with all the strippers and sex workers around, how does Troy have the time or stamina for you? Aren't you a little concerned about this?"

I laughed out loud. "No, not at all. Troy does the selecting of all the female sex staff here, masseuses, strippers, sex workers and therapists, and part of the interview is to have sex. Admin staff are excused, which is why I interviewed you. He already knows that he's married to the sexiest woman around. What have I to be concerned about? The only time there would be a problem would be if I tried to prevent him having sex with anyone. Men are like that, they want most what they can't have, so let them have anything and they'll always come home again."

"So, I'm guessing that you interview the male staff?"

"Oh, yes, a very enjoyable part of my job." I grinned at her, "It's a tough job but someone's gotta do it."

"Yeah, I guess so," Marilyn chuckled.

I checked my appointment book and saw that I had Mrs Watson in an hour. I remembered this poor woman on the phone when Marilyn put her through to me last week. She was in tears, both from the emotion and the embarrassment of discussing her marriage with a stranger. I had to remind her on several occasions that this was my job, pointing out that no matter what she said, I would probably have encountered similar or even worse situations in the past, and that I would never judge her for anything. She had been pretty vague, mentioning something about her abusive husband, but I was certain that meeting her face to face would be a lot better and more productive than talking on the phone.

I walked through the door and checked out the clinic, noticing that Shaun, the assistant doctor, was busy with a client, then looked into the dungeon, empty as I expected early in the day, noticing it appeared clean and tidy. I must get Troy back in here sometime when we have some spare time, I feel like a good session, I thought. The remainder of the complex looked to be operating as I would expect and I greeted Paula in the café and ordered my favorite chai latte. As I was the only 'customer' there, I sat on a bar stool and chatted to her as she worked.

"Things going well for you?" I asked.

"Very well. It's great to work in a new shop, great to be my own boss, well, almost, you know what I mean," she chuckled with slight embarrassment.

"Yes, I know what you mean, and you're doing an excellent job. Thank you very much."

She glowed at the praise.

"So, on a personal level, have you thought any more about getting together with Troy?"

Her hand flew to her mouth and her cheeks reddened instantly.

"How do you know?" she asked, "I only made some passing throw-away comment to him."

I laughed. "Relax. We have an open marriage. If you want to get together with Troy, feel free; I'd love to watch."

"Oh," she replied, seemingly lost for words.

"He goes swimming in the pool every evening after work, says it relaxes him. He only swims naked, so if you wanted to join him in the clothing optional rec area, feel free. Choice is yours; I'm sure he'll enjoy telling me about any encounter as much as I'll enjoy hearing it. And remember, there's always room in our bed for you if you wish."

"So, it's really OK with you, you're not just having me on?"

"Sure, it's fine. I'd be cross if you took him away from me, but I know that won't happen. Why would it? He's invested too much in me to just leave me behind," I chuckled, then looked at my watch. "Anyway, go for it if you like. I have a client so I'd better head back to the clinic. Thanks for the tea, delicious as usual."

**************************

Mrs Pamela Watson:

"Good morning, Mrs Watson," I greeted her as Marilyn showed her into the room, placing the completed new client forms on my desk. "How are you today?"

"Good morning, doctor," she replied, seeming to be a bit hesitant, perhaps understandably.

I showed her to a chair and sat down opposite her, not behind my desk. I'd learned long ago that counselling works best when you're in the same space as the client, without the barrier of a desk between.

"You sounded pretty upset on the phone when we spoke, how are things now?"

"Well, not too good, I guess," she replied, "I wrote it all down on the sheet there."

"Yes, that's just for the records; I'd like to hear it from you please."

She sighed. "I don't know where to start," she said.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I always find it best to start at the beginning. Finding that point is often the hard part though."

She took a deep breath and sighed it out. "The beginning. Um, maybe that was when I was a kid. But that won't have anything to do with the way Frank treats me. I didn't know him then; he's the one who beats me. Look, I even brought the weapon along to show you."

She reached into her bag and brought out a short piece of thick rope which had been teased out into long fibres at one end, then these were bound in place with cord, preventing further fraying of the rope, then about two feet of rope with a complex and beautifully executed double wall and crown knot on the end. She handed it to me and I examined it carefully; it would certainly be an asset in our dungeon.

"What does Frank do with it? How does he hurt you with this?"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it? He hits me with it."

"Where does he hit you?"

She looked at the floor, tears now running down her face. "He hits my ass," she mutters, then continues after a few seconds, "And my pussy."

"And what happens then?"

"Well, I don't like it, so I try to escape, try to make him stop, but he doesn't."

"Why do you want him to stop? Does it hurt you?"

She stopped talking but kept her head down. "Not really, but it makes me feel, I don't know, funny inside."

That revealed a lot more than anything else she'd said.

"Did you have other boyfriends before you met Frank?"

"Oh no, my father never let me go out with boys. Said they would only cause trouble. I did go out to the movies with one boy, but my father found out and beat me with his leather belt. I never did it again."

"So, you were a virgin when you met Frank. Were you a virgin when you were married?"

"Yes. I wouldn't let Frank anywhere near my pussy. In fact, we usually met in my home and usually Mom or Dad were in the room with us. I don't think they trusted us alone together."

"Did you even kiss Frank before you were married?"

"Oh yes, of course."

"Use the back of your hand to show me how you used to kiss Frank and then show me how you kiss him now."

She gave the back of her hand a quick peck with her lips, then looked at me perplexed.

"What do you mean how I kiss him now? What's the difference?"

"Pamela, can I call you Pamela?"

"Pam, please."

"Pam, who taught you about sex?"

"N .. n .. nobody taught me anything about sex. The only sexual instruction I got was from my father, who gave me a book about a young couple who did things they weren't meant to and she got pregnant and it ruined her life. Frank and I didn't want that to happen. Sometimes Frank would try to kiss me harder, opening his mouth even as though he wanted to eat me, but I always managed to push him away when he did that. Even now I won't let him do that, even if we're watching a romance on telly and he's sitting beside me, when they kiss in the movie, sometimes he puts his arm around me and pulls me over and tries to kiss me, but I always manage to escape. My father was right, men simply cannot be trusted."

I felt so sorry for this poor woman. I had to find out more, find out how emotionally and sexually deprived she really was.

"Do you and Frank make love together in bed?"

"Oh, yes. Sometimes his thing sticks up really hard, then sometimes he wants to cuddle with me. Often, I pretend to be asleep, but if he knows I'm not, he'll put his hand under my nightie and run it over my pussy. I used to push him away, but he was very persistent and I've found the best way now is to just allow him to do what he wants. That way it's over quicker."

"So, what does he do?"

"Do you really want to know? It's horrible. I don't want to tell you. What does happen now is that he bought that rope thing and now, if I try to push him away, he sometimes gets really angry and beats me with it. Last week he even beat me with the knotted end and left several large bruises, which is why I decided I needed to see you."

I looked at the tawse, thinking that being hit with the knotted end would not be pleasant, but feeling my pussy tingling at the thought of the sensations that using the stranded ends could evoke. I felt sorry for Pam, but I felt just as sorry for Frank. What normal, red-blooded young man needed to have to put up with the frustration and rejection he'd obviously suffered, and was still suffering? I realized I had two clients, not just one.

"So, if you don't push him away, what does he do then?"

"He rubs my pussy with his fingers and I can feel him do it now, it's horrible. He'll get some hand cream on his fingers and he pushes that inside me, right into my hole, and rubs it on his thing, then he'll lie on me and try to push his thing inside me. Once inside, he moves back and forth for a while, he calls it having sex, although once he called it fucking, which is a swear word, I know, and then after doing that for a bit he pushes extra hard and stays still for a few moments. I don't know why he does it because it looks very painful from the way his face is all screwed up. Then he relaxes and pulls it out, rolls onto his side and goes to sleep. I usually wait for a bit, then get up and go to the bathroom and have to wash myself because it's all sticky down there."

"So, you've never had an orgasm?"

"I don't know what one of them things is. I seem to remember that girls at school giggled about them, but that was years ago."

"You went to an all-girls school then?"

"Oh yes, Mom and Dad insisted on that."

I consulted her record sheet and did some quick math.

"You're 27 now, is that right?"

"Yes."

"And are you on any contraceptive?"

Pam looked horrified. "Absolutely not," she replied indignantly, "Only bad girls use those; I'm not a bad girl. If you think I am, then I'll just go somewhere else. I came here for your help, not your insults."

Oh Pam, I thought, you poor darling. Where have you been all your life? How have you managed to avoid the whole sexual environment that you're living in?

"Listen, Sweetie, contraceptives simply prevent you from becoming pregnant when you have unprotected sex. When a man makes love to you, he puts his penis, which you call his thing, inside your vagina, the hole you mentioned, and slides it back and forth until he has an orgasm, which is what he's having when he screws his face up. It's a fantastic feeling, not painful in the least. He then ejaculates or spurts semen which contains sperm, that's the sticky stuff you feel, into you and, if you are fertile at that time, then the sperm can fertilize the egg you will have released and you will probably become pregnant. Nine months later you'll give birth to a baby."

From the look of absolute incredulity on her face, I knew this was all new information. Poor girl, she'd never been told about this; why, I wondered.

"When you were at school, did they have sex education classes?"

"Yes, but you had to have parents' permission to attend and Mom and Dad wouldn't give that, so I had to do math with a few other girls instead."

"OK, so we're going to do some sex ed today. To begin with, we'll go somewhere more comfortable. Here, you'd better have this back or Frank will wonder where it is."

I handed her the tawse, admiring the workmanship once again, then stood up, took her arm and escorted her into the adjacent room set up with a massage table. I carefully locked the door and turned the heating up a little.

"Now, to begin with, we need to get naked. I'm going to be naked as well so you can examine parts of me that you cannot see on you. Do you feel you can do that? You must have seen naked girls at school, right? This is just like that."

We both stripped off and I noticed that she was a shapely young woman, one who any guy would be proud to be seen with, yet she'd dressed to hide herself. She folded her clothes neatly and stayed, facing the wall.

"You really need to turn and face me, Pam," I told her.

She turned slowly and I noticed her eyes checking my body out, as I was with her. I noticed two bruises, one on each hip.

"Is that what Frank did to you with the knot on the rope?" I asked.

"Yes. That was one night when I wouldn't let him have his way with me, have sex with me, is that right?"

"Yes, that's right, or you could just use the word fuck; he wanted to fuck you and you wouldn't let him fuck you. It's just a word, darling, it can't hurt you," I said, noticing her grimace each time I said fuck.

"Yes, he wanted to fuck me," she said, testing the word out on her tongue.

"Good. Now, look at our bodies; see how similar they are. Every woman has a body that is very similar to ours, larger in places, smaller in other places, but basically the same. Nature or God gave us these, so they certainly cannot be dirty or nasty or anything like that, even though some people will try to tell you otherwise. Now, I want you to touch your breasts like I'm touching mine. You do to you what I do to me."

I cupped my breasts, then massaged them, then felt my nipples, rolling them gently between thumb and finger. I felt pulses of arousal shooting to my pussy and wondered if she did.

"How does that feel?"

"When I touch these, I get a funny feeling inside," she said, "It seems to go to the bottom of my tummy."

"These are your nipples and they can give some wonderful sexy feelings. They are also for feeding a baby. Now I want you to swap, so I want you to feel my breasts while I feel yours. Is that OK with you? Are you happy to do that?"

I thought that I had her trust now but knew this could be the big one, the first time, perhaps ever, she had allowed another person to touch her sexually. After thinking for what seemed to be a long time, she nodded.