Louise had always been the dominant one in our relationship. We had met at work about 10 years ago. Now in our forties she still looked much the same as then - glossy raven black hair, and full breasts gave her a definite gothic look, further emphasised by the black jeans and long boots that she favoured. I knew that she was a lot more experienced than me, and had had many partners before we met, but she always seemed happy with our relation ship, and we still enjoyed a healthy, if somewhat vanilla sex life.
Once day I was looking for something under the bad when I found a cardboard box I hadn't seen before. As I reached to pull it out she came - and rushed at me screaming, "Leave It!"
Of course, this had the opposite reaction - I opened it to find what looked like a stack of erotic fiction - the front page of the top magazine showed a gagged and bound blond gazing up at the reader. "What's this?" I asked. "Is there something you want to tell me?"
Blushing hard, Louise started to unload. She told me that she had been aroused by bondage since her teens. She had fumbled around a bit with previous boy friends, but had it had never really lived up to the the arousal she got from her fantasies. She had built up a sizeable collection of stories before she met me, which she had managed to keep secret, and the arrival of the internet meant that now she found everything that she wanted to read online.
If only she had told me. I had been reading erotic porn for years now - again secretly. Although we had been together for a long time, it transpired that we were both keeping the same secret from each other. Having made the discovery we started to read each other's stories, and discovered a shared delight in the same sort of scenarios - capture, domination and slavery. Despite Louise being quite authoritative, and to be frank, quite often bossy with me, I was discovering that she also liked to be controlled.
The obvious next step was to bring this fantasy world into our own sex life, and we started experimenting in the bedroom. I would tie her to the bed and take her, perhaps pretending to be someone who had broken in. She would tie me down and then tease and taunt me. Although we both enjoyed these games, it was also true that we both felt quite self conscious trying to role play with each other, and secretly, both of us were disappointed with how it was working out.
One night, when it was my turn to be the sub, she had me tied spreadeagled to the bed. Leaning down to me, her long hair falling over my face, she whispered in my ear, "What if we visited someone?"
My reaction was obvious to her as I started to harden. "Someone likes that idea," she laughed.
The next day I started trawling the net. There were any number of dominatrix advertising themselves, but none of really drew me in. I was looking for smoothing more than an hour in a basement being tied or flogged. A couple of days later I found an enigmatic post on a bulletin board;
"Immersive weekends for submissive couples. Experienced dominant couple seek slaves for weekend fun."
Something instinctively felt right - I sent a quick email, something mundane, "Hi, we would like to play. Tell more."
After a few days I hadn't heard anything back, despite constantly checking the inbox. Then suddenly a new mail arrived - the title simply "Etiquette". The contents were quite blunt.
"This is not the way to do it. If you are really interested in starting something with us, then you need to tell us about yourselves, why you think you want to see us, anything that you have done before that might seem relevant, and what we might find interesting about you. I suggest you try again."
I showed Louise the email and their reply. She was furious.
"I can't believe you just sent that off - I'n not surprised they didn't like it!. I obviously need to take charge of this."
Louise grabbed the laptop and disappeared into the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind her. It was obvious that my presence was not required. When she came out a couple of hours later she refused to discuss it - any attempt to do so from me was met with a curt "No!" When I looked at the laptop later my email and their reply had been deleted. There was nothing that I could see in the outbox either, so perhaps Louise really was so cross that she had decided that that was the end of it. I knew better than to try and bring it up, and over the next couple of days she calmed down. A couple of weeks later, when I got home from work one night, she was sat at the table - her own laptop open in front of her.
