This is the second installment in the saga of Annie's experiences at a spa with special possibilities to explore one's sexuality. As the story is set as a part of a beautiful relationship with her beloved husband Donald, I intended the story for the Loving wives section. I was prepared for criticism, especially from readers who find it hard to accept a woman's willful submission to pain and humiliation. And yes, the anger was plentiful and vocal in the commentary, but to my big surprise on the part of the husband. Seemingly it's very hard for quite a few readers to phantom that a man can both accept and take pleasure of his wife's submission to other people. Let me assure you, Donald does not feel cockolded, nor does he question his wife's commitment and love for him, trusting her to have experiences that doesn't fit into the wife/husband-nucleus. Therefore I test my waters in the Fetish section this time, especially having in mind the next couple of chapters still to come.
--***--
The Decision
I had to make the decision that evening. Two weeks earlier, immediately after my first visit to Desert Delights, I believed I knew the answer. Still in a haze from the experiences the same day, I just wanted to accept the offer to return to this wonderful oasis of pleasure as soon as I got Donald's agreement. After all, I was married to him, and I would accept his refusal if he was to say no. As I expected, he just used about half a second before he said "of course you'll go". So now I had his permission, but a kind of doubt had entered my mind.
The written offer from Desert Delights left nothing and everything to imagination. On the one hand, the terms was clear: I could spend an oval weekend at this luxurious spa together with a companion of my choosing, all-inclusive and totally free of charge. In exchange I would participate in a "member's only show" on Saturday night - so far, everything clear. On the other hand, the offer plainly stated that I would have to follow any instruction given in the show, within the limits of the general terms and conditions of the membership. I knew those limits from my last visit, knowing they stretched my limits of what I thought I was willing or capable of doing. Lawrence, the man in charge of the preparations for my first visit to the spa, had gone to lengths in explaining to me what the speciality of the extra services at Desert Springs: finding your sexual triggers in receiving or administering pain and humiliation. At my first visit, it was my own needs that was identified and catered for, this time it would obviously be the demands of the audience that defined my experiences. I could make some qualified guesses from Donald's (and mine) fantasies, from porn flics we had watched together and from clubs we had visited, but this time it would be for real, with me in a leading role.
Immediately after my first session, in Lawrence's office, I had come to accept that I had been given the most exciting and arousing experience in my life by giving up control, by being whipped and humiliated in front of strangers. Lawrence even made me feel a kind of pride, by emphasizing that I was ultimately in control by choosing to submit for a defined period of time, and that my need for submission in sex came from the responsibilities of my work life and marriage. It made sense to me, I knew I very seldom could relax and leave decisions to others - by accepting the treatment, I had a feeling of relief and liberation.
And there was no denying of my body's response. Being completely dominated had turned me on beyond anything I had known. Still now, two weeks later, I would feel the arousal when mentally re-experiencing the four-hour long fuck. Thinking of the moment when I had to open my mouth and accept that I was to be gagged with my own pee-soiled panties... - it made my pussy dripping wet every time. And the whipping, the toying of my asshole, the three-way-fuck I received, it all gave me the pleasure I was looking for. However, was I really ready to give my body up for the fantasies of others, to once more willingly accept anything and everything that Lawrence and Donna at the spa would ask of me?
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Me. A happily married woman just turned forty. A successful editor at a fairly well-known publishing house. Mother of two children on the brim of leaving the nest. Perhaps not the most popular woman in our neighbourhood - I had always refused to let other people define what I could or should do, sometimes in clear violation of the middle-class consensus on our street. Mine, and Donald's, liberal views on issues from foreign policies to marihuana sometimes made the small talk difficult. If they only knew what I was contemplating at this moment... Perhaps it was the thought of the more narrow-minded, cheerless and boring couple down the road, the ones complaining about everything from loud music or topless women on the beach, that made me make up my mind. If my loved Donald was OK with watching me getting a good fuck, and I could feel the fantastic sizzling sensation by the thought of turning into a sex slave for a few hours - who were to tell me this was wrong?
"This is your last chance," I told Donald, "if you don't want this to happen, speak up now."
"What?! And miss a once-in-a-lifetime blowjob?"
Donald looked genuinely baffled. A part of the offer was for Donald, a dedicated female member with a penchant towards oral sex would be seated next to him during the show, with a strict mission of keeping him a happy man while watching his wife submit on stage.
So this was definitely my call. I wrote the shortest of emails back to Desert Delights in response to the offer: "Yes. Take me."
The Preparation
The two weeks had passed in a blur of expectations, and now I found myself in Lawrence's office at Desert Delights. I was not alone this time; I knew Lawrence and Donna, his assistant, from my first visit here. Sitting in the large sofa besides me, were two other girls, all dressed like me - naked except for a white cotton bathrobe.
"Good to see you all again," Lawrence greeted us. "For three of you," - he looked at the other girls in the sofa, "this should be familiar. For Annie's sake, I'll just walk you through the basics. You are here of your own free will, you are not receiving any money for this. Basically, you can walk out of here whenever you want. However, before tonight's show starts, you will be asked to sign a disclaimer that states that you will stay on stage for the required time, following any instruction given by Donna or me. The same limits as always applies - nothing illegal, nothing that leaves permanent marks. If you fail to comply with the rules, the only consequence is that you will not be invited to other performances and lose your membership here. If you choose to use your safeword, we will take a break and readjust the action. This said, let me also tell you that you are chosen to participate tonight because tonight's event fit your sexual preferences."