“Ohhh!” madam Beatrix cooed.
Crack! Went the whip.
“Ahhh!”
“Ohhh.”
“Ahhh.” Christ,
thought Harold in panic, I’ve forgotten
the feckin’ safeword. Crack! The
whip came down again. “Ahhh! Mmmmmadam
Bbbbeatrix, might you ease up slightly?”
“Zilence!!!” Madam Beatrix ordered, “You vill only speek ven
I give you zee permission.” In spite of his terror, Harold rolled his eyes at
her horrible fake accent until Crack!
The whip came down again. Harold
wimpered.
An hour earlier, Harold had been standing in front of a
riveted red door. His leather pants were
clinging to his sweaty thighs and groin.
Why had he let Mildred convince him to wear them? Just the buying of them gave him heart
palpitations. Stepping into the shop had
put him in the sweats then panic swept through his body when Mildred, with the
sales lady’s help, chose the bright red ones.
Horrible matching blotches completely engulfed his pale complexion when he
emerged from the change room and when the handsome sales lady tucked her
fingers into the waistband to test the size, he felt “it” move and his
satellite dish ears exploded into flames.
Harold was almost sixty, almost completely gray and mostly
resolved to run away screaming through the parking lot. Mildred, his wife of many years, stood
vibrating with excitement by his side.
It was his deep, enduring love for Mildred that kept him rooted to the
spot outside the door of the club; Mildred, who was dressed in a tight leather
skirt, fishnet stockings and ridiculous heels, who looked so good he wanted to
eat her for breakfast, lunch and dinner that gave him the strength to stay.
“I’m not sure about this.” Harold said staring at the
windowless door, pulling leather from his sweaty nether regions.
“Neither am I.” Mildred admitted.
Harold and Mildred had been married for many years. They had had a wonderful if somewhat conservative
love life until Mildred one day, after reading an article in her lady’s
magazine, asked Harold to spank her. OK, thought Harold and complied. Mildred continued to ask for various kinky
things and Harold, though it really wasn’t his cup of tea, tried to give
Mildred what she asked. It really wasn’t
his cup of tea, though, and Mildred came to him one night and said, “Harold, I
want to be dominated. You really aren’t
very good at it, to tell you the truth darling, and I’m not interested in
forcing you to do something that makes you uncomfortable. I think we should try going to a club. What do you think?”
What do I think? Harold
thought. What do I think? I think my testicles just disappeared into my
body! Instead, Harold took some time to breathe and said, “Okay, Mildred,
we can go if you like.”
“Oh Harold, you are simply wonderful!” and Mildred kissed
him over and over about the face.
Thus, Harold found himself some few weeks later standing
outside the club with sweaty leather in his butt crack and feeling extremely
unsure. He looked into his wife’s
face. She threw him a nervous
smile. His heart burst with love and his
commitment resolved. Mildred, the love
of his life, needed to experiment and who was he to stop her from this
adventure?
Harold took a hold of Mildred’s hand and pushed the door
open. Electronic music and bright lights
burst onto the sidewalk. The couple
entered and let the door swing shut behind them. Harold’s expression on most days displayed
mild surprise, probably due to his long face and closely set eyes. Now he looked completely flabbergasted. Men
and women (at least Harold assumed) were draped here and there on couches
drinking fruity looking drinks out of long stemmed glasses. A few were standing at the bar huddled
together in groups. They all turned to
watch Harold and Mildred enter the club.
Thank god Mildred insisted on
these pants, thought Harold, otherwise
I might have looked out of place!
A maitre de somehow recognized them as newbies and came over
to them to explain how the club worked.
The room they were in, he explained, was just for drinking and
socializing. The activities were in the
back and there was no alcohol allowed back there. At least that is what Mildred explained to Harold
afterward. Harold had had a difficult time
understanding the young man through the tiny hole in his gimp mask.
“He seemed quite jolly.” Harold mused, sipping his pink
martini (they hadn’t had Guinness) as Mildred downed hers in a gulp and ordered
another.
A few minutes later, Harold tipped the last of the martini
into his mouth, slurping at the rim.
Mildred watched him intently, waiting for him to swallow. Harold looked at her nervously and she passed
him a brimming shot glass.
“Well, Harold darling, I’m ready. You don’t have to come
with me. You could just stay here if you
want.”
“No, dear,” Harold smiled and threw back the liquid
fire. He thumped the glass down on the
bar. “I came here to be with you.” Mildred
kissed his cheek and led him, sweaty palm to sweaty palm, through the velvet
curtain.
They entered an opulent waiting room. Two half-rings of red
velvet seating curved around both sides of the room. In the centre was a gorgeous rococo desk
behind which a lovely red-head sat in a perfectly tailored ‘50s secretary
dress.
“Good evening,” She purred, rising from her chair and
stretching her hand to Mildred. Harold
started back. The secretary’s suit ended
at her waist after which was nothing except a lacy thong and a garter belt
leading to stockings. “It” stirred
suddenly and Harold blushed. Sharon, as
she introduced herself, handed them a questionnaire and waiver form, gestured
to the seating and then sat back down at her desk, once again the model of
propriety.
Harold and Mildred found a vacant seat between a vinyl-clad
couple and a woman whose school-girl uniform made her look alarmingly like she
was 12. Mildred began entering
information while Harold skimmed the page, “Oh look, honey,” Harold said, “All
their toys are sterilized and only the highest quality lubricants are
used. Well, that’s reassuring, I
suppose.” Mildred pressed the pencil
firmly to the paper and checked spanking. Harold flinched unintentionally. Mildred pressed the pencil again and checked whipping. Harold flinched again. Check.
Flinch. Check. Flinch. “Mildred,
are you sure you want one of those things in your mouth?” Check.
Harold looked away from the questionnaire to the other
customers around the room. There were
quite a variety of characters. Harold’s
eyes rested on a pair of lesbians who were playing with chains attached to
their nipple rings. Harold could see their
nipples being jerked hard. A sympathetic
twinge emanated from Harold’s own nipples and he looked quickly back at the
form. Glancing down the column he found vibration massage.
“What do you think about this one, Mildred? Mildred?” Harold glanced over at his
wife. She was gaping at a couple in
vinyl beside her. One had climbed onto
the other. They were kissing
passionately and gyrating. Harold gaped
also.
Just then, a man approached the school girl. His head was covered by one of those masks
one wears to a fancy costume ball. The
man proceeded to lock a studded collar around the girl’s neck, order her on to
all fours and lead her by leash back to the room from where he came. She followed obediently, growling and
barking.
Mildred and Harold looked at each other, eyes like saucers
then both returned to the form. Mildred
added a few quick checks and said, “Alright, Harold, I’m finished.” She handed the forms back to the secretary. Mildred returned to Harold and waited. They both stared at the chandelier.
After a few minutes the secretary called,
“Excuse me, sir, but you must sign too.
We can’t go ahead without your signature.” She stood as she called to him and waved the
clipboard.
“Oh, yes, of course.” Harold rushed over to the desk flustered
and signed quickly. Mildred beamed at
him as he sat down again.
“Thank you,
Harold.”
Two Adonises in leather underpants were suddenly looming
over Harold and Mildred. “Please, come with us.” One of them said while the other
took a clipboard containing Mildred’s list.
Mildred gave Harold a last nervous but excited look and followed the
men. Harold followed Mildred, nervous
too but also happy that his wife was getting what she wanted.
“No, Meister Harold, you are vis me!” A platinum blonde giant had emerged from
behind a door. She was wearing platform
stilettos and Harold wondered how she balanced herself on them considering she
had the most enormous breasts he had ever seen.
She was dressed in a plastic nurse’s uniform with a skirt so short that
her pink panties were peaking from underneath.
“Um, excuse me?”
Harold blustered.
“You are vis me! Come!” she ordered. “I am Madam Beatrix.”
“Um,” Harold said. “I think...”
“You come NOW!” Beatrix said and led him to a different door
than his wife. He watched as Mildred
blew him a kiss and disappeared.
An hour and a half later he was naked, trussed to a wall
with rope AND chain and being whipped by Madam Beatrix. In those ninety minutes that had passed he
had been stretched on a rack and had a feather drawn across his body, tied face
down to a bench and massaged and probed in places he never thought to be
touched, suffocated almost to death by Madam Beatrix’s enormous bosom, and
forced to suck her toes among other things.
The only way he got through it all was to repeat the mantra, do it for Mildred, do it for Mildred.
When she had chained him to the wall initially, she had been
kind and gentle. She did things to him
that made Harold feel very guilty. He enjoyed
it very much but wasn’t sure Mildred would approve. Then, Madam Beatrix had pulled out the whip.
Crack! “Ahhh!” Harold cried. That one fell awfully close to his
testicles. Madam Beatrix drew the whip
across his thigh, over the welt, bent and kissed him gently then raised her arm
to bring the whip down again. Harold’s penis
was clearly betraying him as it had the whole session but his testicles drew
inside trying to escape their imminent damage.
Harold’s mind was in panic mode. Do it for Mildred, do it for...wait, who is
Mildred? What the fuck was that word
again?
Crack! “Ahhh!”
Beatrix’s arm went up. Oh God!
Oh God! And then a voice rang out like angels. The chaos parted in Harold’s mind. In a high, choked voice Harold screamed,
“Fuzzy bunnies!” Madam Beatrix froze in
mid-swing then dropped her whip. She
scooped Harold’s face between her hands and kissed him gently on both cheeks.
“Oh, my darling Harold.
You are satisfied?”
“Yyyyes, Madam. Thank you, madam.” Madam Beatrix undid Harold’s chains. She applied liniment to his welts and
massaged his sore muscles then helped him dress.
Harold couldn’t stop shivering even after Madam Beatrix had
delivered him to the waiting room, kissed him gently on the top of his head and
wished him luck. “Would he like to make
another appointment?” The secretary had asked him. No, I fucking well wouldn’t, you crazy bitch! Is what
Harold wanted
to say but all he could get out was a, “No, thanks.”
A few minutes later, Mildred appeared in the waiting room beaming. Harold, seeing her smile, couldn’t help but
to fall in love with her all over. Tears
sprang to his eyes. Her smile told him
that it had all been worth it. She was
happy. Mildred came over, scooped him up
in a hug and held him for quite some time.
He melted into her, her love for him more soothing than any liniment.
A short while later, Harold and Mildred, hand in hand,
emerged from the club to the lamp lit parking lot. As they made their way to the car Mildred
said, “Harold, I don’t think I want to be dominated anymore.” Relief swept over Harold and he let out a big
sigh. “No, I think I want to dominate.”
