The Executive Lifestyle Experience

Author's note: This is the first chapter in a story about a shy young wife exploring her submissive desires, under coercion at first, then with greater enthusiasm as the story progresses. It is a fantasy, set in a fictional world where there is no risk of STDs, and there is no downside to casual sex with multiple partners... As I said, fantasy. Don't try this at home.

Prologue: The Young Couple

My wife, Sara, is a perfect lady... well educated, refined, and demure -- at least, that is how she appears in her public demeanor. She projects an air of shy innocence that makes most men fall all over themselves trying to protect her. She definitely had that effect on me. She has the all-American girl-next-door good looks, and a natural athleticism that keeps her thin and fit. She loves to hike, bike, play tennis, ski, and dance. She is also an accomplished musician, playing piano, guitar and violin. Exceptionally good looking and athletic, she was on the cheerleading squad in high school and college.

I first met Sara when she was working as a summer intern for our company, ATS Engineering. She was working as a Marketing Intern, and I made her acquaintance because she was helping to coordinate several industry trade shows where we were exhibiting our products. I was very much smitten by her startling good looks and her vivacious, happy personality. She was just fun to be around. Sara had been working at our firm for the past two summers, and was well liked by everyone who knew her.

When I heard Sara had broken up with her long-time boyfriend, I couldn't resist asking her out. To my surprise and delight, she accepted. We began quietly seeing each other, keeping our increasingly serious romantic involvement separate from our professional relationship at work.

When we first started dating, I was 27. I have to admit, I did feel a bit like I was robbing the cradle. Sara was just 20 years old, getting ready to enter her junior year of college. I had completed my graduate work, and was busily working my way up the corporate ladder. I had already achieved a fair amount of success, had a good income, and had just bought a nice piece of property in the north woods. I was living in a small starter home while I saved up enough to build my dream house.

Sara was a virgin when we met, and wanted to remain so until she was married. That was fine by me, but it had evidently been a source of constant tension in her previous relationship, eventually leading to the breakup. I'll admit, it was difficult to stop myself from pushing things too far with such an attractive lady. But I knew I had to be a gentleman. Sara was obviously a treasure worth waiting for, and I was falling head-over-heels in love.

It didn't take long before we both realized that our relationship was turning serious. We couldn't resist spending almost every weekend together, and we often saw each other during the week as well. Sara was living at home at the time, and I think her parents were uneasy when they saw our relationship turning serious.

Sara's parents weren't really sure about me at first, owing to the fact that I was so much older, but they eventually came around. They seemed willing to overlook the seven year difference in our ages when they realized I was financially stable and a good Catholic boy. When we announced our engagement after a year and a half. Sara's father gave his blessing, but insisted that we wait until Sara had graduated before we tied the knot. We honored his wish, and scheduled the wedding for 2 weeks after Sara's graduation.

After graduation, Sara transitioned from Intern status to a position on the regular Marketing staff, essentially moving up a level in her former job. She had several responsibilities, including continuing to coordinate trade shows.

The wedding was a blur, but I will never forget how happy Sara seemed. That night, she made me happy she was my wife, finally surrendering the virginity she had guarded for so long.

We spent a glorious week in the Caribbean for our honeymoon, enjoying many activities in the tropical environment, swimming, sailing, SCUBA diving, etc. by day, followed by romantic evenings together.

I found that Sara was pretty shy in bed. Even though we were now married, she seemed very reserved when it came to sex, almost as if she was afraid to let herself fully enjoy it. She refused anything more adventurous than the missionary position, and typically wanted the lights off. I couldn't understand how such a pretty lady could be so shy about her body, but I was patient with her. I felt very lucky to have landed such a pretty wife, and I figured she would loosen up over time, eventually losing some of her sexual inhibition. She was cuddly and affectionate, and seemed to enjoy just being close, romantically snuggling, more than actual sexual intercourse. Despite her somewhat prudish attitude toward sex, we ended up making love frequently during the honeymoon. She seemed to enjoy it, once she got into it; it just seemed to take a lot to get her past her shyness.

When the honeymoon ended, it was back to the real world, and we settled down to a happy life as a young couple. In the months leading up to the wedding, we had been planning and building a new house on the lot I owned. We moved in after we returned from the honeymoon, and sold the smaller house I had been living in. Life was good. Things were never dull, and we kept busy with the new house, each other, and our careers.

Chapter 1: An Evening at the ELC

Although we worked in different departments at our company, about 7 months after we were married, both Sara and I found our professional assignments were bringing us into rather frequent contact with Mr. Scott McCafferty. McCafferty was a Consulting VIP who had recently been taking an interest in both our Marketing Campaigns and New Product Development efforts.

McCafferty had a reputation as a very successful businessman, and was a powerful force in the company. Though he was technically a Management Consultant, he was also a member of the Board of Directors, and a confidant to the Chairman of the Board. He was a man that commanded respect from everyone around him.

Scott McCafferty was middle-aged, about 38 years old, but kept himself in top physical condition. He projected an aura of power, and was physically attractive. That combination got a lot of attention from the female staff in the company.

I didn't realize it at the time, but McCafferty was trying to gauge my likely reaction to something he was considering: The seduction and sexual enslavement of my wife, Sara. Had I known his intentions at the time, I would have found them laughable. From what I could see, Sara was far too sexually inhibited to play anyone's sex slave, much less to submit to someone who was not her husband. But McCafferty was far more experienced than I, and he could see something that I simply could not.

McCafferty had been active in the BDSM lifestyle for many years, since his frat boy days in college, and he had learned to read the signs that telegraphed a woman's submissive tendencies. He was very much a Dom, and had convinced himself, as result of careful observation, that Sara was a natural submissive. He was sure he could coax out Sara's submissive nature and sexually dominate her, to our mutual satisfaction (His, hers, and mine).

The problem was me. Since I was Sara's husband, there was no way for McCafferty to engage with Sara without violating social norms and transgressing against our marriage. While his own experience with BDSM had long ago relieved him of any notion of a monogamous lifestyle, he also knew he was outside the norm in this regard. His sense of honor would not permit him to undertake any action, however appealing to him personally, that caused a serious risk to the health of our marriage.

I had no clue what was going on, but McCafferty was trying to decide how to proceed. He wanted to learn whether I might be open to his own lifestyle, in which no-strings-attached recreational sex was permissible. If so, fine. He could seduce Sara, make her accept him as her Master, and command her actions, to the benefit of us all. But if he determined I was the type of husband who would become emotionally distraught to learn that his wife was having extra-marital sex, his conscience would demand that he back off.

McCafferty was well aware that many men get inexplicably turned on by the thought of their wife or girlfriend being "forced" to serve other men. He also knew that many others are either far too jealous to countenance that possibility, or so emotionally attached to the concept of monogamy that extra-marital sex would constitute an irreconcilable violation to the sanctity of their marriage.

McCafferty realized he would have to learn more about me, much more, before he could reliably predict how I would react. He therefore made it his business to learn.

Scott McCafferty had shown considerable interest in the new product development project I was leading. He had requested monthly status briefings, and since I was the Lead Engineer, it fell upon me to give the briefings. We were running behind schedule and over budget, which was not all that uncommon in the attempts to birth a wholly new technology, but it was very uncomfortable to have to get up and brief the less-than-stellar status, every month, to someone as influential as McCafferty.

The interesting thing was, McCafferty, unlike the managers and financial personnel, did not appear to be particularly concerned with the cost and schedule over-runs. Instead, he was preoccupied with the new technology; did I really think it was possible?

I did; we were making steady progress, and had already overcome most of the key technical hurdles. We had results from prototype testing that were showing success. We had filed for two separate patents, one of which had issued, while the other was pending. The problem was, each new challenge took us longer to solve than we had originally planned, and frequently revealed some subsequent issue that also had to be overcome. We were now running almost a year behind our original plan, and were proportionally over budget.

McCafferty waved that off as insignificant. He was convinced that the new technology, if brought to fruition, would pay back many times the cost required to develop it. In his mind, the cost and schedule over-runs were but a mere bump on the path to success.

McCafferty surprised me one Monday morning in February, calling me on the direct line to my office. He wanted to talk about the project, he said, just him and me. He invited me to join him for dinner, the following night, at the Harbor Grille. I was not to mention to anyone, not even my wife, that I was meeting him. He wanted complete secrecy.

To say I was surprised, would be an understatement. For a young Engineer to get a direct request to meet privately with one of the company's Directors, was not just unusual; it was unheard of. But I wasn't going to turn it down. I agreed to meet him, the following evening, at 7:00 PM. My wife, Sara, had left that morning, flying to Atlanta on business. She would be away until Friday afternoon, so I really had no reason to sit at home. Besides, the Harbor Grille was an upscale downtown restaurant, far more expensive that I would ever pay for by myself. I knew that dinner would likely be excellent, and the fact that McCafferty wanted to speak privately with me, wanted my opinions, was flattering.

Per his request, I joined McCafferty for dinner on Tuesday evening. The Harbor Grille is located in the Coventry Building, which is a 43-story, down-town complex of office space and condominiums, located on choice real estate overlooking the harbor. The restaurant occupies most of the 1^st floor. The meal was excellent, and we spoke at length about the company, the new product I was developing, and what I thought about its chance of being successful.

McCafferty was attentive and engaged, and gave me the distinct impression he understood the technical detail I was discussing. There seemed to be much more to this man than met the eye.

As dinner was winding down, McCafferty made a rather surprising offer.

"Brian, I like you," he began. "I know Sara is in Atlanta for the week, so I assume there is no rush for you to get home. Instead, I invite you to join me for drinks, upstairs, in a very exclusive Gentlemen's Club."

"A strip joint?"

I was surprised by what I thought he was suggesting, though not offended. More like intrigued.

"Not exactly," he replied. "Though, I daresay you will probably see some nudity, or even some sexual play, if we venture into the club. The Gentlemen's Club to which I refer is the Executive Lifestyle Club. The ELC, as it is known to members, is very up-scale, and very exclusive. Membership is by invitation only. It is not a strip joint, in the commonly understood sense, but rather a private club that provides a highly secure, safe environment for members to witness or engage in adult activities."

"What kind of adult activities?" I had to ask.

"Whatever you want, provided it is mutually agreeable with any partners, and within the limits of reason and safety," McCafferty explained. "All attendees must submit to regular medical testing, and are certified to have a clean bill of health, so the possibilities for sexual interaction, with others who are so inclined, is pretty open. The club provides a safe, secure environment for consensual play, shielding its members from the risk of disease, or public exposure. It caters to members' interest in the BDSM lifestyle, so activities involving dominance, submission, bondage, etc. are pretty common.

"You mean, like whips and chains," I had to ask.

McCafferty chuckled. "That's a pretty simplistic view of BDSM, but yes. Many Doms like to put their slaves on display, so it is not uncommon to see some very attractive women in various states of bondage or nudity, or being made to serve their masters sexually, in front of the other members. There is typically a party atmosphere, with BDSM-themed exhibitionism for the voyeuristic enjoyment of the other members and guests."

"Wow," I said. "That sounds pretty hot. And you can get me in there?"

"I'm entitled to bring guests," He said. "But I must warn you, security will insist you get a blood test, even if you don't intend to do more than watch. They are very diligent in ensuring all members and guests have a clean bill of health."

"Well, how am I going to do that?" I asked. It's after 8 pm."

"Oh, don't worry," McCafferty clarified. "The on-staff nurse will administer the test. You simply have to sign the consent form and let them take a blood sample. Members get tested once a month, or more often, if there is any possibility of outside exposure. Guests must be tested in order to get in."

"Well, in that case," I replied, "you have me intrigued. I accept your invitation."

McCafferty signed for the meal, charging it to his account, then led the way out of the restaurant and over to the elevators. As we stepped inside, he produced a magnetic key card and held it up to a reader on the elevator control panel. Once the card reader beeped, he pushed the top button, 41, which immediately lit. As the doors closed and the elevator started upward, McCafferty explained the security perimeter.

"This building is 43 stories high. The highest anyone can access without a security key is the 40^th floor. The club is on the 41^st and 42^nd floors. There is a penthouse on the 43^rd floor, the top of the building, that I lease for business purposes. The top 3 floors may only be accessed through the Security Lobby on the 41^st floor, which is as high as the main elevators run, even with the key. The Upper Floor of the club, on 42, is accessed by a stairway from the club lower level. The penthouse, on the 43^rd floor, is accessed from a private elevator behind the Security Lobby on the 41^st floor."

The elevator dinged to a stop and a moment later, the door opened. We stepped out onto the 41^st floor, entering the Security Lobby. There were 2 uniformed security guards manning the check-point, one behind a console desk with an array of computer monitors, the other standing beside an airport-style metal detector.

"Hello, Mr. McCafferty," the guard behind the desk spoke up. "Are you heading up to the penthouse?"

"Not this time, Ted," McCafferty replied. "We'll be visiting the club." He turned to indicate me. "This is my guest, Mr. Brian Robinson."

"Of course, Sir," the guard replied. "Over here, Mr. Robinson. I need your photo I.D. and Social Security number."

I provided the necessary I.D., which the guard dutifully checked through the computer.

"You'll need a blood test, Mr. Robinson," the guard explained. "We have no medical record on you." He passed me a clip-board with a consent form. "Please sign here, then have a seat in the screening room." He indicated a small room off to the side that was outfitted as a medical screening room. "A nurse will be with you shortly."

Within a few minutes, a very pretty young nurse was drawing my blood. She asked some general health questions, took my temperature, pulse rate, and blood pressure, then collected the blood sample, placed a Band-Aid over the site of the needle-stick, and placed a red wrist band around my left wrist.

"We should have your results in a half-hour or so," the nurse explained. "Until then, you must not engage in any direct physical contact with anyone in the club. You can watch, of course," she said with a smile. "The red wristband indicates we do not yet have your results. As soon as we do, we'll send someone to remove it."

I left the screening room and rejoined McCafferty, who led us over to the metal-detector checkpoint.

"You'll have to surrender your cell phone and any cameras or recording devices," He explained. "For obvious reasons, recording inside the club is prohibited. You can pick up any electronics on the way out."

Following his lead, I handed over my cell phone, which the guard placed in a numbered cubby, then followed McCafferty through the metal detector. A few moments later, we were on our way down the hall to the club.

The entrance to the club was a nondescript, wood-paneled hallway, perhaps 20 ft long. At the end of the hallway, on the right hand side, stood a pair of tall, heavy oak double doors, hinged on the outside and opening from the center, with a matching pair of ornate brass door pulls. Each door was emblazoned with 12" high guilt lettering stating "ELC". There was no other marking as to what lay on the far side of the doors.

McCafferty pulled open one of the doors and bid me to enter. As I did so, he followed me in.

I found myself in front of a hostess stand attended by a very pretty young woman in a distinctly unusual outfit. She wore the proverbial "Little Black Dress" that was stylishly but enticingly cut. It fastened at the neck, in a halter style, leaving her shoulders bare. From the neck, twin strips of black silky material flowed down to her waist, forming a deep "Vee" down the front, exposing cleavage and revealing the insides of both breasts, which were quite obviously braless. The back was open to her waist, and the skirt was cut at mid-thigh.

Most strikingly, the young hostess wore a black leather slave collar around her neck, and matching black leather cuffs around her wrists and ankles. Black high-heeled shoes and black silk stockings completed the outfit. Overall, she was strikingly attractive, and the slave-garb overtones hinted at forbidden pleasures.

"Good evening, Master Scott," the woman addressed McCafferty. "The remainder of your party is already here, seated in the lounge."