An Affair Not to be Forgotten Ch. 01

This is my first submission to this platform so I need to learn the format and chapter dividers etc.

Exploring the boundaries of human experience can be amazing, as long as there is consent. Without consent a line is crossed which should never be crossed.

Please consider this a work of fiction, however like most fiction it takes 'inspiration' from the real world. Over winter I found myself one of about thirty people around a campfire. As others succumbed to their alcohol intake and headed for bed, I remained as part of the final three; the others being a young couple. Over the next hour they shared an experience. After exchanging half a dozen emails I have written this "inspired" story. I have written it from the man's point of view as it was with him that almost all the communication occurred.

Ch 01 A problem and a possible solution

My name is Trevor. I am forty-two years old and I am very much in love with Nicole who is thirty-seven. We are both divorced and have kids to our exes. We have lived together for three years and in spite of us both saying "never again" we are considering getting married. A year back, however, the wheels nearly fell off in a big way.

One thing we discovered about each other is that we both like BDSM. To be more precise, we found ourselves practicing bondage sex. It was great. I really got a kick out of it and the heightened sexual experience was great for both of us, but probably Nicole got the biggest kick out of it. Lying back tied to the bedhead with silk ropes having no control over how far, how high and how long to reach orgasm sent her over the moon. For me it was great fun.

Things went to pieces one Saturday morning when she was in the shower and her phone went off with an incoming text.

In all innocence I picked it up and put in her pin code and there sat a message from Stephen, her ex.

"Last Tuesday was amazing. When can we have a repeat performance?"

I burst into the bathroom yelling at her and we had what might have been called "the war to end all wars." It was a mutual screaming match. Her attack on me was on the basis that I had no right to be looking at her phone. My reply was that I knew she was expecting a text from her daughter about being picked up from her friend's place and the clear evidence of her seeing her ex and presumably having sex with him was of greater significance.

She got out of the shower and dressed and left and stayed with her mother and we didn't speak again until the Thursday night.

When finally we facetimed each other the conversation started out with long gaps.

"I am pretty obviously in the wrong here," she finally said.

"I can't disagree," was my terse reply.

"If you want to end it, I totally understand," she said.

"I don't WANT to end it, but if you would rather be with someone else then it's pretty obvious, isn't it?"

"It's not that I would rather be with him, it's just that you haven't been giving me what I need?" she said slowly.

"What is it that you need that I'm not giving you?" I couldn't help but let my anger and frustration shape my speech.

"I need someone stronger than you," she said. "I really love you more than anyone else I have been with, but other than go off and show your indignation, what will happen if we get back together?"

We spoke for about an hour about what had happened when she ran into Stephen at McDonalds. He had ordered her to go back to his place and she had complied. She had performed oral sex on him, but no penetration. He had held her by the hair and forced himself into her mouth.

"So shouldn't we be charging him with sexual assault?" I demanded.

"No. That's what I wanted him to do," she blurted back. The conversation continued that she didn't expect anything from me other than a lecture and my demand of her word it wouldn't happen again and then our relationship would continue as if nothing had happened, which to be honest is probably what would have happened.

We ended the conversation on a civil note with us both taking until the Friday night to think about what we thought would happen, but I think it was clear to both of us that the challenge was mine to come up with a way forward that would actually make a change.

I must admit I was not happy and drifted onto the chat channel of one of the BDSM sites I am a member of until about 3.00am.

By 8.00pm Friday when our facetime resumed I had a fresh perspective.

"I have decided that I agree with you. If we go on the same way we may as well walk away from it now, so I have decided on a course of action."

"Which is?" she seemed almost bored as she asked the question.

"I have decided to end our relationship unless you agree to the consequences I decide on for you cheating on me."

"It wasn't actually cheating..."

"It absolutely was," I was back to yelling. "Meeting up with an ex, going back to his house and sucking his cock off is cheating in my opinion and that of most of the population," I argued back.

"Ok, I guess I see your point there," she conceded reluctantly. "So what are these consequences going to be? Are you going to put me over your knee or something?"

"I haven't decided, but clearly it will need to be way more assertive than anything else I have ever done with you. You are to Facetime me again at 8:00pm Sunday."

"Am I now?" she was laughing at me.

"I guess we will see at 8:00pm Sunday. Let's see if I am important enough to you for you to log in." With that I ended the call. The next two days I spent my spare time in a private chat room with a couple of American Doms I had met. One of them invited a female Domme into the chat and her input was really helpful. I was then referred to a male dom called Charles who lived about three hours drive from Sydney with whom I ultimately had more than a one hour zoom on Sunday afternoon.

8:00pm Sunday came and no answer to my facetime call. I tried again at 8:05 and again at 8:10 before resigning myself to the fact that I was once again single.

At 8:30pm the phone rang and it was Nicole. I took a deep breath, took control of my voice and answered.

"Hello."

"Darling I am sorry I didn't take your calls. Eloise went to a birthday party and ate way too much junk and she's vomited everywhere. Can I please call you back about nine?"

"OK," I said curtly. I found it so hard to be grumpy with her and I so much wanted to tell her how much I loved her and couldn't imagine life without her, but after my chat with Charles I knew I had to be strong. I had to be strong enough to walk away if I needed to, if I wanted a chance to get things on the right path for the future. It was probably the biggest challenge I had faced in my life to then.

At 9.15 the phone rang. She was much more contrite than she had been on Friday night and went into details of one child vomiting while the other had a head cold and wouldn't stop crying.

"OK," she finally said. "I guess we need to get down to business. Friday night's call ended with me hearing you coming from a place I have never imagined you even visiting, but to be honest, I have been lying awake wondering what these consequences you spoke about might be. I guess it's a side of you I have never seen. So what do you have in mind that will change the inevitable course of our failing relationship?"

"Well," I said slowly," the consequence you will need to accept if we are to continue is that you will submit to twenty-four hours of punishment, which will be entirely determined by me."

"What?" she laughed, "You are going to punish me for twenty four full hours and that will sort out everything?"

"No, Me and Charles."

"Who is Charles?"

"Charles is a sort of professional Dom. He is a very experienced one. He will work with me to ensure that your chastisement is severe enough to make you take note and hopefully I might pick up a few skills that can help me keep us on an even keel in the future."

Nicole was gobsmacked. She just looked at the screen for about ten seconds without a word.

"Are you actually serious about this?" she finally said incredulously.

"Absolutely," I held my head high and looked directly at the camera. "I listened to what you said the other night and that is my proposal."

"So I am supposed to let you hand me to a total stranger to play with for a day. You must be kidding."

"No," I replied firmly. "I won't just hand you over. We have to have two zoom meetings with him together and he has to have a brief one just with you. If you don't want to do it then that is fine. I love you more than anything but as you said on Thursday, if I don't fulfill your needs; if I am not strong enough to make you feel secure in our relationship, then we have to end it and the sooner the better. Your turn to speak." I ended the sentence abruptly. She stared at the screen for almost half a minute before she cleared her throat and finally spoke.

"I don't know what to say. Can I have time to think about it? This isn't something I would ever have expected from you."

"Maybe I am discovering a side of me I didn't even know existed," I replied. "Of course you can think about it, but if you want to go ahead the first zoom with him is Thursday at 8.30pm and the second is Friday so you work out how much I am worth to you and what value you put on us. If we are to go ahead then you will need to take Friday week off work because that's when your correction is scheduled"

My last sentence seemed to take her by surprise. She agreed to think about it and tell me one way or the other. By then we were both tired and had to prepare for the week ahead.

I had given Charles Nicole's email address and we both received the zoom link and on Thursday evening with more than just a bit of trepidation I sat before my laptop and clicked the link about fifteen minutes early. To my surprise Charles was already logged in and we had a bit of a chat before at a minute or so to eight, Nicole joined the conversation.

"Hello Nicole. I am Charles," he said with a very direct manner. He was older than Nicole and I, probably in his early fifties. "You know why we are here?" Nicole nodded. "We need to make this totally clear that whatever happens here has to be completely consensual on everyone's part, particularly yours. Your master has told me you have pre-determined safewords and they will apply. Do you understand?"

"Yes I do," Nicole replied quietly. I was still reeling from being referred to as her master.

"You call safeword and everything stops and Trevor informs me that that will most likely be your relationship, but that needs to be discussed and documented. Do you understand?" Nicole nodded again. "Are your children there at the moment?"

"No, they are at their father's tonight."

"Good. What are you wearing on your feet?" His speech was firm and authoritative.

"Just my scuffs. I always wear them in the house." Nicole was clearly confused by the question as was I.

"Remove them and hold them up for the camera," he instructed. Clearly confused by the direction the conversation was taking she leaned down and removed her scuffs and held them in front of her for the camera to see.

"What clothes are you wearing below the waist?" was his next question.

"My denim shorts," was her reply.

"What else?"

"Just my knickers." Some idea of the direction of this conversation was beginning to emerge.

"Remove them both and hold them up in front of the camera," he commanded quietly. Nicole sat still for a couple of seconds then her wriggling and twisting in front of the camera resulted in her holding her shorts and knickers up to the camera about twenty seconds later.

"Good. Put them down," he further instructed. "Now do I have your attention?"

"You sure do," Nicole said quietly.

From then we spoke for almost an hour, Charles doing most of the talking. He asked questions of Nicole about her experience with BDSM, which I learned was somewhat broader than I had previously thought. What she had done, what she had wondered about, things she had wanted to try, but not quite had the chance or the courage. It was clear that Charles had her completely engaged.

"Ok let's get this clear. If you agree to this you will be at my retreat property just near Denman at 4.30pm next Friday. You will be prepared to surrender yourself by 5.00pm and your destiny will be in my hands for twenty-four hours. Do you understand that?"

"Yes Sir!" I was amazed at this response from her. It said so much about her I felt I should already have known.

"Get this straight. This isn't BDSM games. You are coming to be punished. Initially by me but Trevor will join in eventually and I will assist him in making sure he sets boundaries for your behaviour in the future. It will hurt. You will also be degraded and humiliated and you will be pushed close to limits you didn't realise you had. You are coming for correction and I will ensure that you get it."

After about an hour Charles called an end to the conversation. He said that the Friday night zoom was just for him and Nicole to ensure that she was consenting and to exchange some documentation and from that moment we were not to communicate directly for any purpose except through him. Even something about picking up kids and arrangements while we were away for the following weekend were to come through him exclusively.

The next week was agonising. I had several emails from him confirming instructions. On Thursday evening I drove the three hours to Denman and stayed in a local motel. In the morning I had breakfast in one of the cafes in the town and followed Charles directions to his country house about twenty kilometres outside town and arrived just before noon.

The house was what was commonly known it those parts as a kit home. It was a long straight structure with a low gable roof and a verandah along the full length of the front. Immediately next to it was a farm equipment shed almost the size of the house. It was former farm land from which a number of two hundred acre lots had been subdivided. A tall stand of eucalypts shielded it from sight of the closest similar house almost a kilometre away. The sound of my car arriving would have been obvious and as I drove up the drive I saw Charles waving at the far end of the equipment shed, directing me to drive around the far side and park my car in there, next to a small tractor and some other agricultural equipment.

We shook hands firmly as I brought my Adidas bag with my overnight necessities with me into the house. We had a simple lunch of barbecued chicken and salad with fresh, warm bread which had clearly just come from the bread maker on the kitchen counter. We washed it down with a single light beer each. He asked a lot of questions and went through some of the activities he had planned. To be honest, it was all pretty surreal. I had never even fantasized over some of the planned events for the next twenty-four hours.

Then he took me to a bedroom at the end of the house. It was set up as a dungeon with a timber beam hanging from short chains from the ceiling. The walls were lined with racks from which all kinds of shackles, whips, canes, straps and paddles hung and in the corner was something like a large table with a blanket over it. Like all but one of the bedrooms it opened onto the full length verandah and had a view of the small dry and weedy lawn and the stand of trees beyond.

From the rack on the wall he selected a cat'o'nine'tails. It wasn't a super serious weapon. It was something one might buy online, with the flails about a metre and a half long and made of soft suede leather strips plaited together. I followed him out through the sliding door and onto the dry lawn. He told me to stand still and standing a couple of metres to my left side, slowly swung the flails through the air so they gently flapped against my buttocks. Then he continued to swing it, moving closer and further demonstrating how it landed and where the ends hit. He showed that if he stood quite close, the end wrapped around and flicked against my flanks and talked about wrap-arounds and how much they made a secondary strike point before the flails continued laterally across the butt cheeks moving across them and how desirable or undesirable this effect might be. He showed me how to crack the whip and judge where the ends of the flails would be when they did their lighting u-turn and the energy they would impart on what or whoever was in the vicinity of their end of travel.

Then he handed it to me and had me do the same across his butt. Not hard, but showing I had a grip on the fundamentals of the techniques.

Next came a leather strap. It was just over half a metre long with the two halves of a round wooden handle screwed across the end giving control over its swing and where the frightening strap would land.

"How do you decide how hard to swing it?" I enquired.

"You pretty well use full force," he said. "Within the professional side of the lifestyle you choose the severity by which implement you use. For an inexperienced girl like Nicole we use the smallest flogger, the smallest strap, the smallest cane. That gives control over the maximum impact for whoever the bottom is. If it was a front-rower from a professional football team you would use the heaviest flogger, the heaviest strap and so on.

The time I spent and the familiarity I gained with the equipment did a great job at putting me at ease with its purpose. Clearly Nicole wasn't at the other end of it at that time but I was confident that if I ended up applying some of this discipline myself I would at least have the physical movements of operating the equipment more or less covered so I could concentrate on the effects where they landed.

As the time approached 4.00pm we moved inside the house. Charles made a pot of tea, patiently warming the pot then spooning in the leaf tea before expertly pouring the boiling water in and slipping a knitted tea cosy over the top. We sat at the dining table sipping tea and making small talk until the minute hand on the clock on the wall passed five and I ran out of things to say as I felt my heart beating faster and my throat began to feel dry. I was feeling like I was somewhere out of my body. My palms began to sweat and the silence in the long gaps between the sparse conversation seemed longer and longer.

We heard Nicole's car before we saw it so I was quickly escorted to my bedroom, at the far end of the house opposite the dungeon. There was a queen bed and a comfy chair looking at an iPad displaying a single GoPro camera, at this point looking at the inside of the front door. Its built-in microphone however delivered sound, if not perfect, certainly good enough for me to know what was happening outside.

I heard the car pull up. About half a minute later I heard the car door open and close. I imagined my Nicole sitting in the seat for those thirty odd seconds wondering whether to start the engine and drive back home, or take the challenge and exit the car to this mostly unknown fate, but she clearly decided to do the brave thing..