Chapter 1

I entered through the back door, as my Mistress had commanded me. I was in a non-descript mud room, a small cleaning area built into the ground to my left and washing machine and dryer to my right. Directly in front of me was a door, leading into my Mistress's house, with some empty shelves next to it on the right. The whole room was done in white; walls, door, even the washing machine and dryer were all white. Only the floor was different, bare concrete with a two inch basin that gave the room its name; you could wash the mud off your feet or shoes in that basin, or maybe even clean a small pet.

On the door was taped a small white sheet of paper with large, black non-descript letters in my Mistress' perfect handwriting giving me my instructions.

Daniel;

You are to remain in this room and prepare for our Scene. You will remove your clothes and fold them neatly, storing them on the shelf next to the door. Ensure that your body is clean and prepared for Me. When you are done, knock three times on the door and assume your position. When I am ready for you, I will collect you.

I set the small box I had brought on the shelf and loosened my tie. As I removed it, I couldn't help but wonder at the strange road that brought me to this place.

I have always been in charge; always in control. Since I was young, I was a leader. Swim team captain, pee wee football captain, baseball team captain, debate team captain; there'd never been a time when I wasn't front and center, instructing people, leading people, telling people what to do.

Even at home, I was expected to be in charge. I have two sisters, Sylvia who is 5 years younger than me and Megan who is 4 years younger than her and all I heard was how I was supposed to look out for them, care for them, and protect them. When I was 13, my parents started making me babysit the two of them after school and sometimes on the weekends. As usual, I was supposed to be in charge. I was supposed to be the responsible one.

I went through high school with straight A's and my High School sweetheart, Sarah, followed me to college. We married the summer after we graduated, Sarah with a degree in Computer Science and me with a degree in Political Science. We were 21 and ready to take on the world. Sarah went to work at a local manufacturing firm helping to run their network and I went to Law School while she supported me. We had it all worked out.

My dad hooked me up when I graduated and I got a job with a local law firm right out of Law School. It meant Sarah had to change jobs, but she didn't mind. Sarah never seemed to mind anything. She was always supportive.

I told myself everything was great and I think I almost convinced myself. I had a great job, a great wife, a great future. I was a tiger in the court room; most court battles have to do with control and I was always in control. I was perceptive and forceful; I was ready for the bright future.

A little over a year ago, though, I started realizing that I was unhappy. I know, silly right? I was 24 and had everything anyone could ever want. Something, though, was missing.

It wasn't from my marriage; I loved Sarah more than life itself. She was the ideal wife; beautiful, successful and smart. Our sex life was beyond awesome. She had a few sexual hang-ups and there were a few things she wouldn't even consider, but for the most part she was passionate and caring and loving and everything I'd ever imagined a wife could be.

It wasn't professionally. I hadn't won all of my cases, but I'd won the majority of them. I quickly became the dependable attorney, the one that the partners could call on when they had a tough case and needed someone to fight for it. I had the heart of a tiger, the courage of a lion and I never said no. I never stopped.

There were no issues financially. Between both our incomes, we were quickly paying off our student loans and even considering buying a house in the near future. We were a bit in debt, but I made sure that our bills were paid off early and we hadn't fallen into the credit card trap; if we couldn't afford to pay cash, we didn't buy it.

I think, if I hadn't stumbled on the porn site, I would never have truly realized what the problem was. I was looking for some porn videos and "marital aids" to add to our collection when I came across it. The pictures fascinated me. The video clips mesmerized me.

It was primarily a D/s site - dominance and submission - with some BDSM through in for spice. There were pictures of men dominating women and women dominating men. It was mostly the stock photos that you see everywhere; men or women dressed in black leather, pulling their slaves back by the hair, showing riding crops to them, paddling their ass.

I found myself strangely excited, heart racing, dick hard, perspiration congealing on my brow. There was something so feral about it, so enticing. It got me to thinking about losing control; about having someone else completely in command, so I wouldn't have to be.

I turned it off. I thought there was something wrong with me; I had never even considered anything kinky like that. Plus, the costumes made it seem so ... theatrical. It couldn't be real; no one would ever dress like that, act like that.

I made it a week before I was back. A long, long week where I found myself masturbating to images of a woman forcing me to do things I didn't want to do. I swear I masturbated more than I made love to my wife.

Going back actually almost cured me. The rubber suits disgusted me. The leather hoods revolted me. It was put on, unreal. This wasn't what I wanted.

Then I saw the clip that changed it for me. It was a woman and a man but they were dressed normally. There were cuffs and blindfolds and gags, but not the "black leather" that you see in every picture and movie. They used scarves, ropes. There was a paddle, but it looked like a ping pong paddle and not the black, studded contraptions that seem to proliferate in the genre.

I was lost. Whether with my hand or my wife, I almost couldn't cum without thinking of the woman in that movie ordering me to do it. All I could think about, morning, noon and night was being under someone else's control. All I wanted was, for just a little while, someone else to be responsible for me.

I tested the waters with my wife a week later. I tried to explain what I wanted, telling her it was just an experiment. She tried, but it wasn't for her. She couldn't be something she wasn't and she just didn't feel comfortable being in charge like that. At least she tried; there were very few things - like anal sex or bisexuality - that my wife wouldn't try at least once. Heck, she wouldn't even watch two girls together in a porn movie, declaring it disgusting and shuddering in revulsion.

I made it two weeks.

I told myself it was nothing. I told myself I had lived all my life without it and I could make do without it now. I lied to myself outrageously.

I had never felt dirty visiting an adult bookshop before, but I did that time. I told myself I was just going to get a new video or some new toys to use on my wife. I knew why I was there, though. I went right to the magazine section, looking for magazines on my new kink.

I was disappointed. All of them were the same leather bound crap. They disgusted me. If I hadn't been looking at them, though, I would never have seen the leaflet.

It was for a pair of local Mistresses; Mistresses Kennedy and Kali. Neither of them was dressed in black leather; they were dressed in professional business suits. The only acknowledgement they made to the leather crowd was the black, feathered masks they were wearing. Other than that, they seemed completely normal. They promised, though, "discreet, professional BDSM and D/s services for the discerning adult."