Chapter 1

Maybe it’s just me, but have you ever noticed the longer you’ve been horny the nastier your fantasies tend to become and the more apt you are to do something stupid if the opportunity presents? I’ve always had some pretty wild fantasies. The idea of being dominated by some big, strong, somewhat misogynistic guy really turns me on. The idea of being forced to do things I’d never do if not compelled, things I would never have the nerve to do of my own free will, excites the hell out of me. I masturbate to those fantasies just about every day when I’m not in a committed relationship and not having sex more or less regularly.

As an example, I’ve never had sex with more than one man at a time. But due in part to some of the erotic stories I’ve read on the internet the idea of being ordered by a man to entertain his friends really excites me. The idea of being exposed in public, not just a glimpse of thigh mind you, not a little too much cleavage, but really exposed to any number of strangers, that turns me on like crazy. I can’t explain it. I’ve never done anything like any of those things. I don’t really understand it myself. Fortunately, I don’t have to understand it to enjoy the fantasies. Those are the sort of fantasies I have and when I haven’t gotten laid in a while, the desire to be controlled like that can be almost overwhelming.

I’m thirty-two years old, reasonably attractive and a natural redhead. I’ve been divorced for three years now. Since I don’t know you I can comfortably admit the breakdown of my marriage was mostly my fault, though not entirely. It takes a lot of patience to put up with most men. Since we’re being honest here you have to give me that.

The last couple years of our marriage we fought too much to have a regular sex life. After the divorce I didn’t want anything to do with men for a while.

But then I started getting horny. I don’t mean horny like gee it would be nice to have an attractive man make love to me. I’m talking horny like a drunken sailor who has been out to sea for six months! I have always loved sex. I wouldn’t say I’ve been promiscuous. Okay, I was kinda young when I had sex for the first time. I was fifteen. But I only had three steady boyfriends in high school, and two more in the two years I went to college. And I never slept with anyone with whom I wasn’t going steady. That means up until my divorce I had sex with five guys in eight years, including my ex-husband. Since the divorce I’ve been about as promiscuous as a nun.

I quit college when I got married and at first I didn’t work outside of the home. Mainly due to my husband’s insistence. I became a full-time housewife. But that didn’t last very long. I’m sure there are women who enjoy that lifestyle and yes, I know it can be a fulltime job. But it quickly became too boring for me. I started to go stir crazy. It began to seem as though I spent the entire day waiting for my husband to get home so I’d have someone to talk to. It might have been different if we had kids but we didn’t. As it turned out that was a good thing.

When I couldn’t stand it any longer I found a decent job. We didn’t need the money. My income was just gravy. It was money we could blow on luxury vacations, those electronic gadgets my husband was so fond of or whatever other unnecessary trinket or bauble caught our eye.

Luckily for me, as my marriage began to disintegrate my job skills improved and I began to advance at work. When our marriage finally came crashing down, my ex and I divided everything up and called it quits. As it turned out, our divorce was not nearly as acrimonious as our marriage.

During the first few years of our marriage the sex had been great. Even when we had reached the point we could hardly stand each other the sex was still pretty damn good. I missed that when we split up. I didn’t go out on my first post-divorce date until nearly a year after the divorce was final. Now, two years after the divorce, I’ve dated just four men. I only dated one of them more than once and I didn’t go to bed with any of them. That may be one reason they didn’t ask me out a second time.

Two of the four men I dated were men I met at work and two were fix ups arranged by friends who were well intentioned but not very good judges of character. My luck seemed to change recently when I went out with a guy I met on the side of the road. He gallantly stopped to change a flat tire for me. We started flirting while he worked and kind of hit it off. One of the things I noticed about him right away is that he was, potentially, that strong, dominant man of my fantasies. In other words, he’s something of a misogynist, but a nice one. He struck me as being intelligent, good looking, extremely confident, and he has a great sense of humor. I like a great sense of humor. After changing my tire, Kyle asked me for my number. I had been hoping he would and I gave it to him gladly.

As I mentioned, it has been more than two years now since I’ve been intimate with anyone. Those kinky fantasies are really starting to get to me. I’ve gotten so desperate I’ve even thought about going out somewhere to get picked up and just have some casual, meaningless but desperately needed sex. It was tempting. But I know myself well enough to know that if I gave in to the temptation I wouldn’t be satisfied. Kyle did not immediately alleviate my frustration.

Since he changed my tire on the side of the road I’ve gone out with Kyle twice but he remains something of a mystery man. He’s the strong, silent type. He has told me almost nothing about himself. I don’t know where he lives or what he does for a living. I know he drives a Mercedes and wears a Rolex but I can’t swear that he’s single or even that he actually works for a living.

On our first two dates he was the perfect gentleman. Our third date is scheduled for this evening and I’m really looking forward to it. He’s taking me out to dinner and then to a club. He’s picking me up in half an hour but as instructed I’m wearing nothing but my robe. He’s bringing with him my outfit for the evening. I look forward to finding out what he wants to see me in. If nothing else it will give me a little insight into my mystery man’s taste in women’s clothing.

Kyle arrived ten minutes early and I let him in. I felt kind of strange welcoming a man I hardly know into my home while dressed in only a short, thin robe. I’m nearly naked! He’s such an overpowering presence that when I closed the door behind him I suddenly felt very vulnerable. I was not surprised when I realized I find that vulnerability exciting.

He smiled and kissed me on the forehead. He stepped back then and handed me the small box containing my dress for the evening. I returned his smile and told him I’d be right out. Then I hurried to my bedroom and opened the box. I paused when I spotted a note on top of the tissue paper inside. The note instructed me to wear the items in the box, and except for my shoes, only the items in the box.

I reached inside and found a beautiful little black silk dress trimmed with exquisite lace. In fact, it looks very much like a slip. There were no labels but it’s obviously very expensive. The box also contained a pair of lace trimmed, thigh high, black stockings. There were no other undergarments!

I held the dress up and looked in the mirror. I don’t believe ... no, I know for a fact I’ve never worn a dress this short before. It occurred to me to wonder if Kyle can read minds. Can he possibly know about my dark fantasies? Has he somehow been able to tell from things I’ve said or the things I’ve done on our two previous dates that I have a dark side, albeit an unexplored dark side? That’s a scary thought.

I pulled the stockings on and then slipped the dress down over my head and let it fall down over my hips. It’s a very beautiful garment, and very sexy. But does he really intend for me to wear this little wisp of sexy fabric without underwear?

I put my shoes on and turned around in front of the mirror. I certainly look hot. Everything appears to be covered, but only just barely. My nipples, which are standing up and looking around at the thought of going out in public dressed like this, are obvious even at a casual glance.

I checked my hair and makeup again and went back out to the living room.

Kyle stood up when I entered the room. The look on his face said it all. He loves it.

“Kyle,” I asked nervously, “are you sure about this? Do you really intend for me to go out in public like this?”

“You are absolutely beautiful!” he exclaimed. “Please, turn around.”

I turned slowly, very aware of his eyes on my body. I’m also aware of how very sexy I feel. I’m becoming increasingly certain Kyle is going to get lucky tonight.

I smiled a bit uncertainly, shrugged and grabbed my purse.

Fifteen minutes later we were entering an exclusive and obviously very expensive restaurant. The staff greeted Kyle by name when we entered! I’m impressed. Most people can’t even get into this place without waiting weeks for a reservation.

We were shown to a quiet booth and enjoyed a long, leisurely, romantic dinner. We talked quietly. I can’t help but notice Kyle avoids answering any direct questions about himself very artfully. I sometimes don’t even notice he hasn’t answered my questions until the conversation has moved on.

I, on the other hand, seem to be answering all sorts of questions about myself. I hear myself talking freely about my past, my present, even including some very intimate details about my life I would not normally share on a third date if at all. I know I’m saying more than I should. But I don’t seem to be able to stop myself. I’m not normally this forthcoming. Maybe it’s that delicious wine.

After consuming one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten, and I’m certain it was also the most expensive, we left for the club. I’ve never heard of the club to which he’s taking me. It’s called, “Secrets” and it’s located somewhere down near the waterfront.

Kyle pulled into the parking lot, parked and we got out. I looked around nervously. We’re in a desolate looking commercial area, apparently surrounded by nothing but warehouses. There are no lights anywhere to indicate a club or any other place that’s open for business. Only the fact that we’re standing in a parking lot full of cars indicates the presence of other people.

Kyle took my arm and confidently escorted me across the packed parking lot. I noticed that all the cars are new, or nearly new, and very expensive. There’s even a separate section where a small herd of stretch limos is parked.

This is definitely piquing my interest. No lights, no sound, no sign with the name of the club, and a club I’ve never heard of.

Kyle spoke quietly as we walked. “This is a very exclusive club with a very exclusive clientele. You’re going to see things in here you’ve only imagined. I think I know you well enough now, though, to know that you have imagined them, or something similar.”

I looked at him curiously. But I said nothing. How can I respond to a strange statement like that?

We approached an unmarked, obviously heavy, metal door. Just before we reached it, the door suddenly opened. A handsome man in a tuxedo ignored me but welcomed Kyle like an old friend, “Mr. Wells! I’m so glad you could come this evening! I thought you might drop in.”

He raised a finger and a woman came out of nowhere to escort us to our table. A totally nude woman! Well, not totally nude, she’s wearing a thick, tight, studded leather collar. It looks very uncomfortable. I don’t know what I expected to see but I wasn’t expecting that! Our escort is young and beautiful but she kept her head down submissively and never once spoke or looked us in the eyes.

Kyle took my arm and we followed the girl with the very cute ass to a booth in the darkened main room. Quiet music is playing in the background and if you listen closely you can just make out the murmur of hushed conversations coming from other booths around the large room. The booths are all situated so that, except when you walk by them, you can’t see into any other booth but your own.

The ceiling is black and the walls appear to be covered by black velvet drapes. There’s almost no light in the booths. There’s only enough light in the large room to make it possible to follow the naked young woman to our booth.

We slid into the booth and our escort left us without ever having said a word. I would have asked Kyle what kind of place this is, what the hell is going on, but I don’t even know what to say. I’ve never been in anything like a strip club or a topless bar or anything like that before. For some reason, though, the concept of a naked woman escorting us to our table is exciting. I even found myself wondering what it would be like be that naked woman, to escort fully dressed strangers around all evening while wearing nothing more than a leather collar.

I looked around, still trying to figure out what’s going on here. I finally looked at my date and realized Kyle is watching me, trying to judge my reaction.

I smiled up at him and said, “Yes?”

He said, “I’ve just been wondering what your reaction would be. So far so good.”

“What kind of place is this?” I finally asked.

“I’d rather not spoil the surprise. Just relax and, hopefully, expand your horizons,” he replied cryptically.

I shrugged and sat back in the comfortable seat. There’s only enough light so that we can see each other well. My eyes seem to be adjusting to the dark but there isn’t much to see outside of our booth. The dark gives me a feeling of privacy which I find comforting.

Another naked lady appeared with a tray. She put two drinks down on the table, along with a selection of fruit and exotic cheeses.

Neither of us ordered anything but Kyle isn’t surprised by the arrival of something we haven’t ordered. I’m curious about what I’ve just been served. I’m all the more curious because Kyle and I have not been given the same drink. I took a cautious sip of mine. I have no idea what it is but it may be the most delicious drink I’ve ever tasted!

“What is this?!” I asked.

He smiled for the first time since we left my apartment. “It’s a house specialty. Its ingredients are a closely guarded secret.”

“What are you drinking?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he answered with an amused look on his face.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw several dim lights come on. They gradually increased in intensity until they were illuminating a black velvet curtain against the wall in front of us. The curtain began to slowly move and for the first time I realized there’s a stage there. The curtain was slowly drawn back and I saw a large, circular bed covered in what appears to be the same black velvet material draped over the walls.

There are other items on the stage but the light is still too dim to see clearly. I can’t identify them yet.

Movement down on the ground floor in front of the stage caught my eye. Two women are approaching the stage. Both are nude. The first woman is leading the second, pulling her along by a leash attached to her collar. The second woman’s wrists are fastened together by means of a large pair of leather wrist cuffs held together by a short length of chain. As I’m able to take in more detail of the strange scene I realize the lights aimed at the stage are still gradually growing brighter.

The first woman looks very stately. She’s obviously confident and self-assured. I imagine that’s something that must be hard to pull off when you’re naked and wearing a dog collar.

The second woman, the one being led towards the stage by a leash, looks a bit nervous. Her eyes never look up from the floor in front of her. But she doesn’t appear to be scared. I know I would have been terrified in her place.