By
John Tagliaferro
PART ONE
“Oh, yum, good morning Little Mister,” Sarah said with a moan as she woke to her husband deep inside her wetness, “hope you are not too close, I am just getting warmed up.”
“Ah, Miss Sarah, you sounded in full fury during your vocal dream only a few moments ago,” Edward responded with a powerful thrust.
“Really now? I don’t remember,” she feigned ignorance of her vivid reliving of a swap session the couple had just a few weeks earlier. The memory pleased her and she thought it was time to remind Edward who is in charge as she squeezed the head of his cock deep inside her.
“Oh, baby, um, please not yet,” Edward pleaded as Sarah’s legs pulled him tighter. She squeezed him inside again and her index finger rubbed ominously up the crack of his ass, past his anus and then hovered at his sensitive spot half way to his scrotum. “Oh, oh no, not yet.”
Sarah looked at the clock on the nightstand, pressed her finger to Edward’s “external male G-spot” and he exploded in her.
Men were so easy, she congratulated herself.
“Sorry, baby,” she cooed with mock sympathy, I need to get ready for work, hope you picked something nice for me,” she said as she rolled her briefly incapacitated husband off to the side and dashed to the shower.
When Edward regained his composure, he smiled ruefully at the ease with which she could manipulate him and called out:
“Make sure your makeup goes with black!”
Receiving no reply, he scurried to the kitchen to make the morning coffee.
By the time Sarah was out of the master bath, in full makeup and hair pulled back in a tight bun, Ed was serving coffee on the small dresser near Sarah’s clothes changing station.
“Ed, honey, you have outdone yourself this time. I’d no idea this belt could go with any office-wear.”
“Well, there still may be an issue. You are out of black stockings, so it is either black pantyhose or sheer nude stockings. Maybe the backup outfit?”
“Shit, how do I ruin stockings so quickly? No, don’t answer, I know the list: ankle cuffs, hemp rope, fingernails, single-tails, etcetera, etcetera, and etcetera. The catalogue from ‘La Cage’ is just too tempting.”
Edward nodded, fully aware of how tantalizing she found her favorite BDSM toy store and how convenient they happened to have an outlet in town. The store staff certainly did not mind her visits; if they caught her in the right mood she would model her selections privately for them and ask their advice. Edward found her tantalizing too, in everything she ordered from them. He gave a sigh of regret that he still could he could not quite get into Dom/Sub play as much as his devious and erotic wife. She wanted him to join an exclusive fetish club with her, but backed out at the last moment. Oddly, he was the more practical of the two of them, thinking it was a waste of money for him. It was the only place Sarah went where Edward did not have a say over who she partnered with. It was also the only place Sarah went for encounters with the same anonymous, masked man, every Friday for the past several years.
One of Sarah’s limits, if one could call it that, was that she never played in public. The closest she came to that was the occasional balcony at least ten stories up, or the dressing room of a store. Groups were fine, as long as everything was in a controlled environment. More like “private enough” for her to feel comfortable and let her submission escape. Sarah’s idea of “submission” was not textbook either, unless one substituted “top from the bottom” for submission.
For the staff, Sarah’s most memorable visit to the La Cage was shortly after her daughter Suzanne’s eighteenth birthday. Once Suzanne had seen the cover of one of their catalogues, she asked almost weekly if Sarah or Edward would take her to see the store. Edward always firmly refused and directed her back to her mother. Sarah always said it would have to be something after she was old enough, hoping that Suzanne would grow out of the curiosity. While they were driving past on the way back from a clothes shopping day, Suzanne brought it up again and Sarah turned right into the parking lot.
The staff were a bit too stunned to voice their usual greetings to Sarah, seeing her with a 2” shorter “clone” of herself, both in skin tight jeans, tight turtleneck tops and knee-high boots. Sarah’s top blue, Suzanne’s pink. Suzanne’s curiosity was extinguished when she saw in person what she was so interested in from afar. It was one of the rare times that she was disappointed at being disappointed. All Sarah had to do was explain and demonstrate a set of stocks to Suzanne and the “creepy factor” took over for the daughter and she asked to leave. It was an elegant, yet scary device. Constructed of carbon fibre for strength and lightweight, painted and textured to look like rusted iron, with chambers to hold lead or steel bars to give it heft if the users wanted an authentic feel. Suzanne thought the old adage of not seeing sausage made if you wish to continue enjoying it was more than appropriate for the La Cage experience.
The security tape of the pair browsing the store immediately became the most viewed among the staff and was the greatest test of their privacy policy. No copy ever escaped the store.
It had taken Ed a long time to give in to letting Sarah play with others and it was only her rationing of the sex, that he had become so addicted to – along with the compromise he approve all of her outside playmates - that had allowed her to seal the deal. At least, she looked at it as a compromise.
Now, so subtle and focused had been her leading of him, and without him realizing it, he was playing servant in a manner indistinguishable from a true submissive. As he dressed Sarah in black lace panties, matching bra, sheer-to-waist black pantyhose, and a black silk blouse with onyx cufflinks, he still considered the morning ritual as part of their sex-play; unable to know that Sarah herself was coming to regard him as no more than a growingly obedient houseboy.
A houseboy she held tender feelings for; but no less a houseboy for that.
He applied the finishing touches of a tailored black pinstriped wool suit – a suit she insisted hiking up higher than normal since she had no stocking tops to hide - and a wide, five buckle belt, functional buckle in the back, that had a “waist cincher” effect.
The husband-cum-houseboy watched as she examined herself in the tri-mirror, hoping she would be pleased.
“Edward,” she exclaimed, not disappointing him, “this is perfect as usual! I really need an emotional power boost today and this should do it. Oh, and if I am going to look so bossy, I command you to wear your teal button-down and khakis today,” she said with a giggle.
Edward played along without a complaint. Sarah smiled again and rubbed Ed’s face gently, and then lost her smile as the major item of her workday crashed into her mind like a freight train. She kissed Edward goodbye and they exchanged “I love yous” before she revved up her new Mercedes and drove to work in her usual cautious manner, that her daughter described as “great-grandma style.”
Before her car had made it off the drive, Edward was already musing on the events that had led to the development of their relationship as it stood…
The Females In His Life
In the early days of their whirlwind romance, Edward was the bright, very young engineer at another firm when they met right after Sarah earned her PhD. He was neat, even in his own home, polite, proper, and brilliant. Not hard to look at either and Sarah made a height exception for his 3” lower stature than her.
Edward did not mind that a bit, he even loved her in the tall heels that were her signature style. She had long since gotten over her problem of being taller than her date, if he was her date. Sarah was a single mother and saw Ed as a potential energetic life partner, as well as father figure and mentor to her daughter, Suzanne. Those traits never ended and they grew finer as their relationship matured. He frequently attended to household duties with an almost psychic ability to anticipate what Sarah wanted and she had bragging rights over all of her friends.
Of course, over the years, Sarah learned just what bragging embarrassed Edward and what made him swell with pride, which became another weapon in her arsenal of control over him.
Edward surprised himself when he finally met Suzanne, Sarah’s daughter who was thirteen at the time. He had never dated a woman with a child before and really did not know what to expect. It turned out to be as easy as falling from a log. Suzanne was beautiful, like her mother, and also sweet, nice, sincere and brilliant – at least, that was her image. Helping Suzanne with her homework did not take him back to his high school days; it took him back to his recently completed days at Stanford. Every class Suzanne had was advanced placement and she loved learning more about her subjects than the scope of the classes.
Another trait that she shared with her mother was an impulsive impatience. If either of them wanted something, it had to be right then and not one moment later. Suzanne finally figured out that her mother was the one who called the shots, even after the wedding, when she tried to get “permission” from Ed to wear heels and makeup daily. Edward never dared tread on Sarah’s parenting territory and Suzanne learned that those avenues were a waste of time, so she concentrated on wearing her mother down for those things.
The only thing that caused friction in their early relationship was Sarah’s appetite for kinky play, which was greater than Edward’s taste for the same. This was brought into Edward’s face full force on their honeymoon. Ed liked being bound and teased in a mild way by the occasional attractive woman, even by convincing shemales. The latter being a ‘like’ that was introduced to him by Sarah. However, mild was about as far as he was comfortable going with at the time.
Their honeymoon changed all that.
At the resort in the Caribbean, Sarah fully exposed her passion for bringing additional partners to their bed. Over his strenuous – outraged even – protests she seduced resort staff almost daily, in her preferred style of letting them think that they were seducing her. Maids and lifeguards, mostly, usually one at a time but frequently groups of several. To say her behaviour had shocked him would be to understate and at ten years into their marriage, Sarah had not slowed a bit - if she denied herself rough play for too long, only sessions bordering on torture could get her back to ‘normal.’
Of course, in their grand compromise that was really no more than abject capitulation on his part, Sarah had agreed to play only with partners Edward approved of and never deny him presence while she engaged in play with others - if he chose to exercise his right, that is.
If he showed any signs of objection, Sarah withheld her sex, though she always offered to find him a substitute until he “came to his senses.” The choice between a stand-in of woefully inadequate appearance versus being with his brilliant and beautiful wife, you understand, made his spells of celibacy short.
As their lives, domestic and sexual, became more defined Edward found himself more and more in awe of his exciting and assertive wife; his deference towards her morphing into something more than simple role play. It was odd, in a way. At work, Sarah was known as the friendly manager. She rarely showed any anger or disappointment, her style was to teach her subordinates how to do things right and they usually strove to please her. She even preferred to be called by her first name, but did not object if people wanted to call her by one of her many titles, or simply Miss, Ms., or Misses Kneeler. Many thought too that Sarah was too friendly, at least too friendly to escape the ranks of manager and enter the ranks of executive.
But that was about to change.
The Cuts Will Begin Immediately
Most who worked in the corporate offices of SJE Enterprises knew the Senior Manager of Finance, Sarah J. Kneeler as a cool, young, calm, and intelligent manager. Her clear, fair skin and happy manner gave the impression that she was much younger than her peers, a frequent false assumption. The diplomas and awards on the walls of her office had the dates visible for anybody who could do the math and discover that Sarah was at least forty.
Watching her pace across the small stage before delivering her instructions was a shock, even to those who knew her as an analyst. She never had to deliver such sweeping bad news before; the old management had vice presidents and above carry the bad news. Under the new regime however, each tier of the hierarchy delivered the news to the level below, en masse.
“I should have worn a different suit. Black is so authoritarian and this belt looks like a five buckle waist cincher. Damn it, I was happy seeing it in the mirror and thinking that, now it is too much. This news is bad enough, I shouldn’t be dressed so domineering.” Sarah’s spoken thoughts ran in circles as the last of her group entered. She motioned to the ones in the back to close the doors, took a deep breath, and approached the podium. The calming effect of her slow exhale was erased by the sharp report of her spike heels, which did not help calm her audience either.
“Group, we have some serious cuts coming and, as your manager and friend, I am making every effort to alleviate the pain, especially to provide ‘top cover’ from the executives.”
She took another breath and a drink of water. For some reason, even her hair “hurt” pulled back tight, as it was, into a bun.
“Make no mistake, these initial cuts are only the beginning. We have the most efficient group in the corporation. However, corporate has made it clear than no group will go without cuts and that includes us. It begins with the administrative assistants. All of you assigned admins will counsel them today, their two-week layoff notices will be issued no later than next Friday. Review their evaluations and do whatever you can to help them find new homes. Managers, you only have a few days to learn what they were taking care of and all of those duties will be yours once they leave. Budget your time wisely!”
Sarah continued through the details, supplying her own mitigation as she did so: “At least I do not have to lay off analysts . . . yet,” she thought with measured relief as she neared the end. Sarah never minded speaking in front of groups, especially her team, but that day, stepping off the podium was the biggest relief of her life.
Walking smartly down the centre aisle she choked back the urge to cry as two smiling interns opened the double doors for her.
“Do they always schedule my group meetings on the opposite end of the floor from my office just to ogle me?” she railed internally as she strode by the “cube farm.” Even those who would rather look away could not help notice how her tailored black suit framed her broad shoulders and narrow waist while the 5” heel of her pumps only added to the effect.
Sarah gently closed her door, walked straight to her desk, and pulled a few tissues from the drawer just in time to catch the tears from the short cry she allowed herself. “Thank God I never wanted an assistant of my own. At least I don’t have a right arm I need to fire.”
Relief, as it turned out, that was premature. As she touched-up her light makeup, a message came across from the Director of Finance. Sarah was to make a home for one of the executive secretaries who needed to be retained.
“Damn it! I don’t want a secretary! If I were an executive, maybe, just maybe, I would need one, but I sure as hell don’t need one as a senior manager!” Sarah grumbled to herself in soft but vocal murmurs as she typed a polite response, respectfully declining the additional help.
The DF replied immediately that it was a done deal and Sarah was stunned. “Of all the secretaries in the world, I get Clarke against my will? I would rather do without junior managers than have that disruptive fool in my office! How she has remained here is beyond me. She is the gruffest, loudest, rudest . . .” Sarah's thoughts aloud were interrupted by a knock on her door. "Yes, come in."
"Misses Kneeler, I'm just stopping by to let you know I am ready to start whenever you like. When may I move into my new office?"
“The executive secretaries not assigned to an executive were supposed to be laid off too. This must be the result of some senior management deal and everybody else knew about it before me, no discussion.
“Let Sarah take her, she never complains . . .” she complained to herself, then replied to Nancy, "Whenever the move team says that your workstation is ready, Miss Clarke."
"Misses Kneeler, I go by Misses Clarke, never Miss and tech already has the workstation set-up. The move team is ready whenever you say." Her smug tone turned to one of greater insolence as she noticed the single strand of antique pearls on Mrs. Kneeler’s neck. Nancy, a product of working class Scotch-Irish stock from the American "rust belt,” was sensitive to shows of class differences.
Sarah was always a bit puzzled at Nancy’s attitude. The woman was still had the silhouette of a fit college student, but she had the manner of an ex-convict. Sarah estimated Nancy at about 5’ 5” and maybe 110 Lbs with still shapely legs; though she always dressed attractively, not expensively. Her face, she considered, had probably been beautiful in the past, but sun and tanning booths hid her soft facial features in a carpet of wrinkles. Sarah suspected Nancy to be on the kinky side, and the office rumors only reinforced that thought. What Sarah did not know was that Nancy was brutally kinkier than anything she ever imagined could exist outside of a horror movie.
Had she known of Nancy’s intentions in regard of herself and Edward, Sarah would not have made the mistake she was about to make. No question. The same mistake that would change the life she had with her husband beyond all recognition.
And not for the better.
Keeping her disapproval of Nancy's insubordinate attitude to herself, she struck upon the fateful idea. Given that she was stuck with Nancy and needed to correct, or at least neutralize her disruptive manner, it seemed obvious to her that she needed a location advantage where Nancy could be placed more on the back foot and not be so familiar - to lay down the law in the first discussion.
"Nancy, how about having dinner tonight with my husband and I? If you do not have other plans, of course. Your spouse can join us," She hesitantly chose the neutral, not truly knowing if Misses Clarke was married to a man or a woman. "We would love to have you both."
Nancy thought quickly on just how to phrase her acceptance. This was making her plans for the weekend even easier. "Such a gracious boss! Of course, Joe and I would love to be your guests. What time do you have in mind Misses Kneeler?"
"Oh, just take care of your move and come over any time. Here is the address.”
“Misses Kneeler, can you send that to me on a calendar invite? Ever since the firm issued us these new phones I have become a slave to the electronic calendar, and this is business related enough to go there.”
“Yes, yes, fine. I will call Ed to have dinner ready by seven. I should be there by then. The boys can chat and watch the game after dinner while we share a drink or two and go over the particulars on how I like my office to run."
"Very well Misses Kneeler. I used to manage the move team. They can take care of things. I have a few errands to take care of, along with anything you need, of course."
"Nothing for me. See you tonight."
Before Nancy closed the door, she was yelling profanities at the move team, along with anybody else who happened by and her grating voice only added to the irritation.
Sarah always thought Nancy sounded like a frog with gravel in its throat and a bad smoking habit, but this was the first time she had experienced the full volume. She wrote a note to herself to bring up the profanity and manner after dinner. She also noted to herself not to mention spotting Nancy in the occasional kink or swinger’s clubs and thanked God Nancy had never spotted her in one.
Nancy was having completely different thoughts. She now had a digitally signed invitation to the Kneeler household on the company servers. Sarah’s suspicions about how Nancy was assigned to her were close, but the decision was not management driven, it was Nancy driven.
Nancy Clarke chose her corporate targets carefully and it was the “secret” of her success. She was one of the longest employed people at SJE Enterprises. Board of Directors, Executives, and Senior Managers came and went, but Nancy was always there. She had been an Executive Secretary, for several former executives and planned to be one again, as soon as she got her new project, Sarah, promoted. As long as Sarah’s unemployed husband did not ask too many questions when Nancy’s “thank you” present from La Cage arrived at the Kneeler home, her latest plan could start without a hitch.
Mister Kneeler, House Husband
"Ed, my new secretary and her husband are joining us for dinner. Can you have a ham and trimmings ready by seven and do everything up nice? What you are supposed to be wearing will be fine."
"Yes dear, I am wearing the teal shirt, will you be arriving with them? How did things go at the meeting?"
“They didn’t run me out to the gas grills on a Bar-B-Que spit, so I am claiming success. Oh, about Misses Clarke, she can be difficult and I don’t know a thing about her husband. Not sure yet if I am arriving before or after them. You know how those late Friday tasks go.”
“Yes dear, will have everything ready for my Princess and her maid as you command,” Edward reported with a laugh.
“Ed, you didn’t say that with a capital letter, did you? Ed? Edward?” Sarah groaned into the now dead phone as she hated being called ‘Princess’ even if he was kidding around.
*****
Later in the day, after Edward caught up on some cleaning and laid a new course of brick on his latest project, a poolside grille, he got to work in the kitchen with dinner preparations. He knew from memory that all of the items for tonight’s feast were in the refrigerators and cabinets. He also knew the extra oven he installed would make the task of having everything ready at the same time less complex.
Just as he finished loading the ovens, he heard a shallow knock on the door. He hoped it was not some worthy charity, or children collecting for school activities, as he had no idea if there was any cash in the house and Sarah did not leave a credit card that day. Edward certainly was not going to dip into his unemployment or retirement accounts for that sort of thing.
He checked the monitor and it was two delivery people by the door, “La Cage” embroidered on their coveralls. Cautiously, he checked the monitor in front of the garage, which revealed a standard delivery truck with a logo that matched the uniforms.
“Hello, may I help you?” Edward asked through the intercom.
“Delivery from La Cage,” the woman’s voice responded in a Persian accent and correct French inflection.
“Hold the delivery order to the camera, I wasn’t expecting anything,” Edward told them, shaking his head at yet more evidence of Sarah’s growing fixation with both the store and its products. “Your company identification too, please.” The raven haired women did as he asked, calmly, as if they had done the drill many times before.
The order looked appropriate, with the correct address and names, plus it had the blocks labelled “surprise” and “assembly” checked. The identification looked correct with prominent logos and, although Ed could not read the names, the pictures matched.
Edward smiled and walked to the door. “Come in, please come in. May I help you?”
“Well, no Seńor, we need to assemble es sorpresa,” the taller woman said in a heavy Hispanic accent.
Both women were beautiful, with long black hair, the Hispanic had beautiful deep brown eyes, the other had piercing emerald eyes. Even in their bulky coveralls and ball caps pulled low over their foreheads, they looked like they should be in a delivery ad, rather than actual delivery people. As they entered the foyer, the model effect was enhanced by the click of their spike heels. The emerald-eyed, Persian delivery girl asked Edward where the master bedroom was. He showed them and they hauled in three boxes, closed the door without locking it and the Persian said, “No peekie,” with a cute giggle.
Ed thought of objecting, but realized that anything of value in the master bedroom was locked up. “What the hell is Sarah thinking, having a surprise delivered when I am the only person home? Couldn’t it wait for her daughter’s college break, or one of her doctor’s appointment days?” he thought.
Then Edward realized that Sarah was supposed to have a doctor’s appointment today, but her day off for that was interrupted by the announcement she had to make at work. “Oh well, if I stay out of the bedroom it will still be a surprise when she unveils it after the dinner guests are gone.”
As the ovens ended their cycles, and Ed was getting curious at what was taking so long, he heard the click of a spike heel behind him. “Buenos dias! I am the Passion,” Passion exclaimed as she slapped Edward hard across the side of his head, knocking him to the floor in a brief dizzy spell.
“What the fuck? Get the hell out of here!” Edward exclaimed as he tried to get back onto his feet.
The other woman pounced on Edward’s back, crossed her arms across his front, grabbed the lapels of his shirt and pulled them tight. The pressure on the sides of his neck brought back the dizziness in spades. “And I am Serenity,” she whispered in a calm, sweet voice. “You sleep now.”
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