"Brandon and I were surprised to see you wearing a dog collar," said Molly as she and Justine turned the corner to enter the women's restroom.
"Why not, isn't tonight's theme Submission?"
"But there's a theme every Friday night. Wasn't it a Surrender the Booty Gangbang Party last week, and if I remember correctly, neither of us gave any booty?"
"Except to Scott and Brandon," Justi answered.
The two couples had met at Allure, an on-premises swingers' club for singles and couples in what is euphemistically known as the lifestyle. They had an immediate affinity on several levels. First, Justine and Molly looked enough alike to be sisters, if not twins. More important was that neither pair was really into the lifestyle. Like many others, they enjoyed Allure because it was so outrageously exhibitionist that married couples could be as provocative as they pleased without coming even close to anyone's idea of inappropriate behavior. Even now, in the room where they had left Scott and Brandon seated at a table near the dance floor, there were topless wives and dresses made of gauzy animal-print fabrics that left nothing to the imagination.
Though Molly's deep plunging black tunic top threatened to spill out her 38DD breasts with each swaying motion, they did not release. This frustrated those sitting along the bar watching as she and Justine made their way back to the restroom. More disappointed was Brandon who was proud of his wife's good looks and always welcomed a clear view of those luscious melons. The thought of her public exposure aroused him for reasons he could not explain. Seated next to her, he could sometimes glimpse the darker aureole the surrounded a pointy nipple. Sometimes when they took to the dance floor, his hands would rise to cup her treasures as his hardness pressed against her belly.
Justine's choice of wardrobe, however, was even more aggressively sexual. Upon arrival, she went to a private room where she stripped out of her street clothes and emerged wearing a short, silky robe which covered a zebra-print bra and panties. She also wore a matching dog collar which, in Allure's terms, meant submission, the theme for the evening.
"I could ask why you didn't wear a collar tonight. Scott likes it when I'm his sub, I suspect Brandon get turned-on, too."
"But he can do anything he wants to me, I always submit whether I wear a collar or not."
"I wonder," said Justine. "You know there is a difference between allowing your partner anything he wants and being a sub."
"Not much difference," retorted Molly who tugged the bodice of her blouse to corral her wayward flesh.
"Really?" said Justi pushing the argument forward. "Suppose Brandon told you to get up on the dance floor in front of the mirror and open your blouse?"
"He wouldn't do that."
"SO?"
"He'd know that it would humiliate me."
"SO?"
"He'd know I'd refuse."
"SO!"
"Why do you keep saying 'so'?"
"I'm not saying 'so' as in 'so what'. I'm saying 'S-O'. It means subs obey. If you hesitate when he asks, you are not a proper sub. If you have to decide whether or not you want to obey, you are the one in charge."
"But..." began Molly.
"No buts," interrupted Justine. "If your master tells you to do something, your only correct response is to obey. If you can veto his command, you are the master and he is your cuckold."
"That's not true," said Molly in an attempt to regain ground.
"Isn't it?"
"The fact is that he would never ask or expect me to do anything that made me uncomfortable."
"Do you hear your own words? He would never ask? Masters NEVER ask, they command, cucks are the ones who aren't allowed to ask. Cuckolds live to please their mistresses who reward them by letting him touch her body. You are not a sub, not even a little."
"I'll prove it," said Molly.
"How?"
"When we go back, you can tell Brandon that we had a heart-to-heart and that I'm willing to be totally submissive for the evening. He can ask whatever he wants, but I'll bet he doesn't ask me for anything outside my comfort zone."
"You'll lose that bet," said Justine. "I'll tell you what. If Brandon does ask for something and you back down, you have to promise to get up on the dance floor and announce: 'my husband is a cuckold.' If you do what he says, then you come back here with me and I'll dress you in my second outfit. It's even more revealing than what you've worn in here, and it has a red dog collar. After that, you are a sub."
Molly wasn't sure she'd officially agreed with the deal, but they were headed back to their husbands and past the up-and-down stares of men and women who formed a gauntlet of revelers.
"I think they like us," whispered Justine. "How does that make you feel? I'm getting wet down there."
Molly blushed as though it was a walk of shame.
"Be proud," said Justi. "If I'm right, they will be seeing more of both of us."
Their husbands were watching the approach of the two luscious women. "Those are our hot wives," observed Scot. "They're breaking a lot of hearts."
"Molly is trying to run under the radar," said Brandon. "She's so self-conscious."
"I'll bet Justine has been working on her."
"Hope so," said Brandon as the two glided into the airspace of the small table.
"We've been talking in the little-girl's room," began Justine, "Molly thinks she'd like to try a little submission tonight. Since I've become her default tour guide, I think Brandon should show his mastery by issuing a command."
"Are you sure?" asked Brandon looking toward Molly.