(Author's note: This story will be best understood if read from the beginning. While each chapter will stand alone, I urge the reader to start from the Chapter 1.)
*****
Suzie and I were both tired when Bob and Julie dropped us off. It was an interesting evening, meeting and talking with the members of "Munch". We both really got an earful of startling information about the BDSM lifestyle from our dinner companions. We agreed to leave our discussion about it until the next day since we both had to be up early for work.
When Suzie got home from work Friday I had some cocktails waiting. We sat together on the sofa and relaxed with our drinks. Dinner could wait. It was just some leftovers that needed to be nuked.
I started with the subject of last night's dinner meeting of the Munch club. "What'd you think about the meeting last night?"
"I thought it was great. I loved the people we met. They were so down to earth, unassuming. I have no idea what the people I met do for a living, or if they're rich or poor, or what their politics or religions are, or where they're from. I only know that they're totally into this BDSM lifestyle and seem to love it. What did you think?"
"I agree. I was really glad we went. Seems like there's way more about this beyond what we've heard from Bob and Julie. But it's not that they aren't aware. Seems like they are big players in that community in this area. Everyone knows them. Many have been to parties at their house. Several couples at a time, to play in their "dungeon". That's what they call the playroom."
She asked, "And did you like the people you were sitting next to?"
"I did. Especially the two on my left. Len and Leila. They were anxious to fill me in on things. But, what surprised me the most, I think, was to learn in their relationship.
She's
the dom. That's short for dominatrix."
"I know, Tom. I figured that out a while ago."
"So she ties him up and beats on him, I guess. She's so petite and he's big and strong looking."
"Well, one of my couples, Jane and Vince, are switches."
"They're what?" I asked.
"Switches. You know, they switch."
"Switch what?"
"What do you think, Tom? What were we talking about all night there? They switch roles. One time he's the top and she's the bottom. Then next time, maybe she's the top and he's the bottom."
"Top? Bottom? What are you talking about?"
"God, Tom. Didn't you learn anything there? A top is the dominating partner and the bottom is the submissive one."
"How do they decide who's who?"
"Oh, sometimes they take turns. Sometimes they flip a coin. Sometimes one of them is just in the mood to be one or the other and they go along with that."
I asked Suzie, "Have you looked at that flyer yet?"
"I did. Let's see. Oh, here it is. Second Annual Gala at The Mill. Gourmet banquet, provocative entertainment. 100% of profits go to charity. Oh! Here's the rub. $500 per person. Members of The Mill Club and their guests only."
"Well, they did say last night that it was pricey. We'll talk to them tomorrow and see what we think. I mean, we can afford it if we really want to go."
Saturday morning we could sleep in, but when we were awake we both wanted to make love. After digesting all that we had heard at the Munch meeting we were both horny, but despite all the kinky things we had been thinking about we just had vanilla sex. Then we proceeded with our day; I, straightening up the house and Suzie, preparing the supper for Bob and Julie.
Right at seven o'clock, the doorbell rang and we both went to the door. We were stunned to see how Julie was dressed. While Bob had in normal sporty clothes, Julie was wearing a mini...very mini...black leather skirt, black, form-fitting tank top, and black shoes with four inch spike heels. Her outfit was completed by black, thigh-high stockings showing a little skin below her skirt, and a silver skull hanging from a chain around her neck.
"Oh my!" Suzie exclaimed. "Look at you. I don't remember saying that this was a Halloween party."
"Actually," Julie replied, "Bob told me to wear this. And you know; whatever Bob wants, he gets."
I said, "Well I didn't expect it, but I totally approve of the look. Bob gets my vote for couturier of the week."
"I'm sure he does," Suzie said disapprovingly.
"Well, come on in," she added. "And bring your slut wife with you."
"Now, now, Suzie," Bob replied. She
is
your best friend. Be nice."
"I know, Bob. I'm kidding. Actually I'm jealous. I wish I could carry off a look like that. Now let's go to the living room and have some drinks."
Bob held his hands out to us. "Here's something for you. The wine we can drink tonight or you can save it for another time, and this (as he handed a gift-wrapped box to me) you should open after dinner."
"What is it, more handcuffs?" Suzie asked.
"You'll see. If you don't like it, you can just toss it out."
I brought out the drinks and a bowl of trail mix to snack on. I raised my glass and toasted, "Here's to friends. Our very good friends who turned out to be pretty weird, and to all the new friends we made at the Munch meeting, who, I guess, are all pretty weird, too."
Bob countered. "To all the Munches of the world. And to you and Suzie, my wish that you too may find the pleasure that all us weird Munch people have found. Cheers!"
"Now," I said. "Let's talk about the Gala at The Mill. What's it all about besides being expensive?"
Julie started. "First of all let me explain what the Mill is. You know that old saw mill about ten miles out of town on Route 12? It's what this town was named after. As you know, the lumber company that owned and ran it went out of business twenty years or so ago. The mill just sat vacant for years and years. Then, about four years ago, Bob got the idea of buying it to use as a sort of clubhouse for people into BDSM like us. Bob, you tell the rest. You know what went on better than I do."
"Well, I mentioned my idea to several of the Munch members that I knew pretty well, and most of them thought it would be a great idea. The big question, though, was the cost. Long story short, we got twelve people together to put up the necessary money. We knew we couldn't get a loan from the bank because of what we were going to use it for. They would have laughed us out the door. It turned out not to be that expensive to buy the property because the company that had owned it was in bankruptcy, wanted to liquidate it, and couldn't find any buyers. The big expense was renovating it so that it met our needs and passed all the county code requirements.
"When people in our lifestyle community got wind of what we were doing, lots of them were asking how they could get in on it. So the twelve of us decided to make a private club out of it. One of the twelve was a lawyer so he drew up all the legal papers. We made a set of by-laws, rules of conduct, and a formula by which the membership fees would eventually be enough to pay the twelve original owners back what they had invested. At that time everything would belong to the members."
I asked, "How much was the membership then?"
"It was $10,000 to join, and $500 a month dues. Before we even started to remodel the building we had forty members besides the twelve. By the time it was finished, about two years ago, we had a hundred members. That was more than enough to pay off us twelve founders so the club is now a private club, incorporated, and owned by all the members. Several of the guys are carpenters, one a cabinet maker, one works with leather, there are a couple of painters. We paid them for their work but less than we would have paid outside contractors."
Now I asked, "How much is it to join the Munch club?"
"That's a whole other kind of deal. It's only $100 to join and $25 per year per person. I know you can afford that. You and Suzie thinking of joining?"
"Don't know. We haven't really talked about it. We're still not committed to your lifestyle."
"OK. I'll tell you what. Let's get you to the Gala at The Mill. If you two don't have a blast, I'll be surprised. I know it's expensive, but it's for a good cause."
Suzie asked, "And what is that cause?"
"Don't laugh now. We decided it would be appropriate to support the Knoxville Sanctuary for Battered and Abused Women. Ain't that a hoot? A club that exists so its members can beat up on their spouses, supports a home for abused women."
"That is ironic," said Suzie. "Really, how are the two groups so different?"
Julie responded to that question. "Simple, Suzie. One word. Consent. When Bob ties me up and whips me, or does other painful and degrading things, I know that he does it with love, knowing that it somehow is bringing me pleasure and is what I want. And I know that anytime I tell him to stop, he
will
stop. These monsters that abuse their wives do it with anger, and rage, and usually too much alcohol, and fueled by whatever internal turmoil they don't know how else to deal with."
"Well said," Bob commented.
"Time for dinner," Suzie said. "Tom and I will talk about your 'Gala' and let you know."
Over dinner we discussed the Munch meeting of a couple of nights ago. Seems that anyone we mentioned, Bob knew. It was clear that he is a big player in the local BDSM community. When we were through with our entrees Suzie suggested that we have dessert in the living room. While she went to the kitchen the rest of us followed her suggestion. Before long Suzie appeared with a tray holding four cups of coffee and a dish of cookies. "It's not much," she said, apologetically. "But it's all we have."
Julie said, "It's all we need, Suzie, after that delicious dinner. Guess Bob scared you out of fixin' hot dogs."
"Right. I saw how he punishes people."
Bob said, "Speakin' of that, darlin', it's time for you to open the gift we brought."
"Oh oh, I don't like the sound of that, Bob," Suzie said.
"Don't judge 'til you see it, girl."