Andy and Marsha sat in the car outside a six-foot wall, neat, anonymous brickwork in good condition. Beyond the massive wrought-iron gates, a gravel drive swung past neatly pruned shrubs that hid almost all but the roof of the building. There were discreet plaques on the gatepost with names that appeared to be companies, or maybe business partnerships.

“It’s her cover — you know, so no one worries about cars and people coming and going.”

“So she set up a load of companies?”

“Oh no, they’re real, they are registered as branch offices of companies that belong to rich clients. Cool, huh? Mistress is very smart.”

“And I’m asking her for a favour?”

“Yes, Andy. Are you scared?”

“Petrified.”

“Sorry. I thought I ought to make sure you weren’t caught out. She has quite a presence.”

Andy sat quietly for a moment. “Before we do this can I be clear about one thing, I don’t want you going back to her, offering yourself in some way. This is about me trying to learn something for Candy and if she won’t buy that then that’s it, right? No side deals or anything. If this isn’t on, then we’ll find some other way.”

“I may be tempted.”

“I know, that’s why I’m saying this. If you want to go back to her, then that’s up to you, but don’t do it for me.”

“I’m doing this for you and me and Candy, opening a door for you, that’s all. I promise. I’ll be pleased to see her for sure but I’m a slave to nursing now. She knows that.”

They drove through the gates and rolled forward, the gravel scrunching under the wheels as the drive curved around and the impressive facade of a classic Georgian country house came into view. There was a sign on a parking space with Andy’s registration plate clearly visible. Marsha picked up a bag from the back seat.

“What’s that?”

“You’ll see, I know how she thinks.”

“Are we on time?”

“One minute.”

Andy reached for the bell.

“Wait.”

He pulled back, looking at Marsha with a quizzical expression.

“Now,” she said, looking at her watch, “press and wait. Thirty seconds and the door will open.”

Andy chuckled but couldn’t help counting. The door opened as he got to thirty. Andy smiled, appreciating the scrupulous attention to detail. Marsha had warned him but seeing it happen was still fascinating and captivating. Would it work on Candy? Maybe not exactly like this but already in his mind, he started to see control as something that could be manipulated. He’d read about power exchange, was control-exchange a manifestation of that or an alternative.

He stood in the hallway waiting, Marsha a step behind. Another thirty seconds passed.

“Marsha dear, how delightful to see you again.” The voice was a low purr, seeming to come from all around him. Multiple speakers, he thought. Surround-sound being put to interesting use.

“And Andrew — Marsha’s told me so much about you. Marsha will help you out of your clothes, I hope she explained that I only talk to naked men... I will be with you in five minutes.”

The voice faded to silence. Andy glanced at Marsha who pointed to a screen in one corner and led him by the elbow in that direction.

“It’s a ploy really. She’s happy with men or women any old how but this puts you on the back foot and stops any risk of filming or recording.”

“Cunning. What about you?”

As she spoke Marsha stripped and then reached into her bag. “I’m going to surprise her.” In a few seconds, she had pulled a dark blue nurse's uniform over her head, tidied her hair and spun around to look at him.

“I brought this for you.” In her hand was the cock cage he wore when Candy was out playing. “I thought you might want to wear it.”

“What if she wants the key?”

“She may well do. Don’t fret, it’s up to you. You could make her an offer. It’s always good to have something to trade.”

Andy took the cage and put it on, smiling ruefully when it was in place. “You take the key. If she asks me I can say that I don’t have it on me, I don’t have anywhere to hide it.”

Marsha made him fold his clothes and rapidly placed them in a bag. She placed the bag in an open locker in the wall and pressed the door shut.

“How do we get them back?”

“Don’t fret.”

“All part of the act?”

“It’s not an act, it’s an alternative reality.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Andy stepped out from behind the screen and stood in the middle of the room waiting. Marsha stayed behind the screen. Exactly on time, Andy heard a new sound somewhere above him. Should he turn and look? In a flash of inspiration, he realised that there was no right answer.

If he looked, then Mistress could declare that he was too forward. If he didn’t look, then he was not showing enough curiosity or respect or any other quality Mistress chose to judge him against. There was no way to win. Lesson number one received. He held his ground and waited.

He half expected the click of heels on the floor, but the stairs were carpeted. There was a footfall, but it was almost silent. When she was halfway down the stairs Mistress stopped.

“You may look now,” she said.

Andy turned slowly, faced the stairs and slowly raised his chin to look upwards. Mistress was standing watching him. High heels, not ridiculous but very elegant. Opaque stockings, held by suspenders coming from a black corset made of silk shot with purple, sheer black panties that somehow had no reflection, inviting the eye into what felt like a mysterious depth. She was wearing long gloves, one finger was beckoning him forward.

He took two steps that brought him to the first step and she held her hand up. He stopped, waiting. Cunning, he thought, an inferior position. Whatever I do, she is looking down on me, it feels as if she has the initiative whatever I do.

“Marsha, darling,” she said, “please come out.”

Marsha stepped from behind the screen and Mistress laughed immediately that she saw the nurse's uniform.

“Oh, what a beautiful touch, so clever. I always knew you had brains.”

Mistress stepped down another step. “An excellent joke, though I doubt you are allowed that uniform at work.”

“There are days when I wish I could.”
 
“Therapy for the poor dears? Yes, I can see it. Perhaps I should set you up, a therapy centre. Nurse Marsha will look after you.” She laughed again, a low dirty chuckle this time.

She turned to Andy. “Follow me. Normally you would have a collar and I would lead you, but not today. Walk two steps behind me.”

Because that gives the most tempting delicious view of your arse, thought Andy. Marsha is right, this is all about creating an alternate universe. That’s what I need to do for Candy.

As they walked slowly up the stairs Marsha caught up and walked beside him. He glanced across for a split second, somehow not daring to look away from the silk-clad buttocks in front of him in case the transgression was noticed. Marsha flashed a quick smile as if she was reading his mind — maybe she was, or maybe she just knew how this went.

Mistress led them into a room that was unlike anything Andy had ever seen. Directly in front of the door in the middle of the room was a chair; though throne might have been a better word. Set on a platform two-thirds of the way into the room, it looked comfortable and luxurious. There was nothing else in the room. The wooden floor glowed from much polishing. Every wall was covered floor to ceiling with panelled doors that might open into cupboards or into other rooms. Nothing gave any clue.

More mystery, Andy thought. Mistress walked slowly to the chair, settled herself and smiled.

“Do sit down,” she said. Andy couldn’t recall sitting on a hard wooden floor in years but there seemed no alternative.

“Marsha has told me a lot about you,” Mistress said. “Tell me what you want from me.”

“My wife has what I can only call a need to be out of control, to have no choice in the matter and to be used. When the need has been sated, she feels massive guilt and begs for punishment and forgiveness. I have accepted this, colluded you might say and our relationship has always seemed strong.”

“Until you found out about Marsha?”

“I don’t think that has made any difference. That may sound arrogant, but hindsight is a wonderful thing. When I look back, most weeks she has begged for more forgiveness, telling me that she had not been punished enough and demanding more whipping or spanking. I think that followed her meetings with Marsha. I never recorded those occasions but searching my memory and comparing with Marsha’s diary I think there is no doubt that Marsha was part of the pattern.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“She always came back to me and as far as I know I was the only one to whom she came for punishment and forgiveness. That may not be the same thing as love, but for me, it worked.”

Mistress nodded, raised a hand and pointed at Marsha.

“Marsha?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Is that how you see it? Was Candy’s time with you a transgression?”

“Not for me. I knew she was married. The only thing she ever said about Andy was that she loved him.”

“Ahh,” Mistress held up one finger. “Did she think that Andy loved her?” She turned slightly, fixing Andy with her gaze. “Do not look at Marsha.”

The finger turned to point at Marsha. Andy found the sidelong look with a questioning eyebrow utterly fascinating. He knew he could move, but somehow knew he would not.

“She had doubts,” Marsha said. “Constant doubts. She often said she could not understand why he loved her, because she was so shallow, so unreliable.”

“Over to you, Andrew. Why did you love her?”

“Why do I love her?”

“How did it happen? You look like a sensible guy, apart from sitting naked on the floor with your cock in a cage. How come you love a bisexual slut who cheats on you one weekend a month?”

Andy closed his eyes and lay back on the floor. “We met in the last year of university...” He stopped and blinked away a tear. “I’m going to give you the short version. Just imagine for now that it was love at first sight and it went from there. Everything was going well and she becomes pregnant. Good news, celebrations all round — no alcohol, of course. Then a tragedy — details not relevant, a miscarriage, complications, no baby, infertility.”

Andy stopped speaking and for a second did nothing. He took a deep breath and slowly sat up, a trunk curl and then twisting his knees to one side and pushing up to kneeling and then standing.

“Sorry M, I guess she never told you.”

Marsha shook her head. “Why would she? It’s not as if I could get her pregnant.”

“Let me guess,” said Mistress. “From then on she has needed to prove that she is an attractive woman who is wanted?”

“Something like that.”

There was a long silence.

“Marsha, I presume you are holding the key to Andy’s cage?”

For a second Marsha looked confused.

“Andy has no pockets and I can’t imagine that you came here without considering the possibility that I might want the key.”

Marsha looked at Andy, who smiled and nodded. Marsha retrieved the key from its place between her boobs and gave it to Mistress.

“Come here, Andy. I wish to unlock you.”

Andy stepped onto the platform that surrounded Mistress’s throne and waited while she inserted the key in the padlock and carefully removed the cage. She cradled his balls in her hand and ran a finger along the underside of his cock, watching it grow. Mistress beckoned to Marsha and made her stand close to the chair. She pulled her head down and whispered something in Marsha’s ear.

Marsha left the room immediately.

“Don’t fret Andy, she will be back very soon. I am curious to know what you think I might be able to teach you.”

She held his balls as she spoke.

“The concept of power exchange. The words seemed to describe something of what goes on when Candy goes on a night out. She doesn’t try to seduce men, she throws herself at them and if they take her it gives her some of what she needs but it goes beyond that. She needs to be used, taken in a way that her wishes are ignored, where she is an object of lust who has no power to refuse.”

“No power?”

“Almost none. The rules I made her agree to do create some limits, at least in theory. I insist that she takes a friend with her who could call me... in theory... but this last episode showed how futile that could be. She had a tracker on her wrist but she has to press a button to activate that and she didn’t because until the last second she thought she was safe.”

“And you think I can help?”

“I think you understand power exchange.”

Andy turned as the door behind them opened. Marsha returned, still in her nurses uniform but leading a naked woman by a slim chain attached to her collar. Her wrists were collared and chained to a four-inch-wide tailored heavy leather belt that cinched her waist.

Mistress pointed at Andy’s cock, saying nothing. The girl knelt beside Andy and took his cock in her mouth without hesitation.

“Imagine if I had Candy here doing this, would that meet her need?”

“It might,” said Andy, struggling to maintain control but beginning to enjoy the treatment. “How would that work, would I sign her over to you or would I bring her here on a leash?”

Mistress smiled, leaned back in her chair and watched... and watched... and watched.

“I think,” said Andy, smiling back, “That I would like her to be trained. my worry is that I may not have the resolve to maintain control, especially if exerting control requires some punishment.”

Mistress beckoned to Marsha and whispered in her ear again.

“Your wife must be fragile after her injuries, punishment does not have to be brutal. It simply requires the imagination to understand what the slave will wish to avoid. Some slaves enjoy whipping, so for them, sometimes, withholding whipping is punishment.”

Marsha started to nibble Andy’s left ear and kiss the back of his neck. Her hands ran down to his buttocks.

Mistress watched and smiled.

“Is Candy this good?”

“Better.”

“Really? This is not simply a husband’s pride?”

“Candy has been known to blow a dozen men in a night, and all of them with big cocks. Her mouth has muscles and control that’s hard to imagine.”

Mistress gestured something to Marsha, and it only took a few seconds for Andy to guess what it meant. Marsha’s fingers became more active between his buttocks and in a few seconds his arse was penetrated. From there on it was hard to resist. When he came the girl sat back on her heels, mouth open, displaying the harvest of cum for her mistress to see.

Marsha withdrew her finger, glanced at Mistress and came to kneel alongside the slave girl. Marsha sat back on her heels and the girl rose enough to place her mouth over Marsha’s, letting everything drain from one to the other.

Marsha swallowed, and the girl sat back, eyes closed, mouth open, obviously waiting. Marsha placed her fingers in the girl’s mouth and waited while she sucked them clean, waited while she swallowed, took her fingers out, examined them and returned them to the girl’s mouth for a second clean and then a third, watching the girl swallow each time.

“Number three,” Mistress said.

Marsh stood up and pulled the girl’s lead. As she led her across the room Mistress pressed a button on the arm of her chair and one of the doors opened. The inside of the cupboard looked to Andy like the inside of a mummy case. He watched as the girl was pressed into it and a glass panel was detached from the inside of the door and closed so that the naked girl remained visible. Mistress pressed another button and Andy watched somewhat awestruck as he saw a few dozen spikes come out of the case, moving forward to just dimple the slave’s skin.

Lights came on, brightly illuminating the girl so that her suffering was visible. Andy tried not to smile, but he had to admire the demonstration in front of him; suffering ensured but safety guaranteed at the same time. If the girl became distressed, she could be monitored and released if necessary.

The wooden door folded back against the one alongside so that the symmetry of the room was restored.

Andy looked at Mistress.

“She was too slow, you were able to resist her. She needs to remember this day.”

“It looks like she will. I hadn’t realised — I thought we were playing a game.”

“You were. She wasn’t.”

Mistress smiled. “I hope you have learned something Andrew. I like you and I find your problem interesting. Take Marsha home now, visit your suffering wife and think for two days. If you wish to learn more from me, then come in two days. You may then be my slave... or perhaps my apprentice... for a short while. You must, of course, visit your wife every day. You will come here at nine in the evening and stay until ten in the morning; that will allow time for you to sleep and visit your wife. We will continue that arrangement while your wife remains in hospital. If you do not wish to take up my offer, then do not come, otherwise, I will see you in two days.”

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

As they left Andy had cast a studious eye at the girl in the cupboard — could he make something like that at home? Maybe not exactly like that, the spikes looked too scary. Maybe they could be made from rubber; but once Candy knew they were harmless, there was no point — exactly, no point.

Whatever — the thought of a display cabinet with Candy on show was erotic, that was for sure and the possibilities were endless. The collar and lead seemed like a good idea too and although it seemed unfair that the girl had been punished, the idea of measured performance ought to be explored. Candy had kept score, but she’d never had a target. She might think it was giving away control but what if she had to get to a number, or if there was a number and she had no idea what it was. He needed to do some serious thinking and research.

When they got home, there was barely a moment before Andy needed to go to the hospital. He grabbed a sandwich and was out of the door before Marsha had a chance to say anything.

Candy was breathing on her own, but now equipped with what she called nose spectacles that were providing a little extra oxygen.

“How is it going?”

“Better and bored.”

“So that must be a good sign?”

“I wish I could sleep for a week or two and wake up cured.”

Andy held her hand and gradually eased the conversation into small talk about the food, the other patients, what was on the radio, how much had she been able to sit out of bed and how far she could walk.

Everything was moving slowly in the right direction.

“Andy, stop.”

“What?”

“Out with it. You’ve been... well, you know, talking about nothing. Have they told you something awful? Am I going to die?”

“No. No nothing like that. Don’t think that, everything is going well but slowly; it will take a while. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said, losing control, being used, all that. I just wasn’t sure if you were ready to talk about all that.”

“I don’t have anything else to do.”

“Have you talked any more to that psychologist?”

“I know you said I should listen, and I did, but I ended up telling her to go get fucked.”

“You mean so you’d have something in common to talk about?”

Candy chuckled. “Yeah, funny. Tell me what you were thinking about.”

“I don’t have it all figured out but there are some things...”

“That doesn’t make sense?”

“That I’m still trying to figure. When you were on the ventilator, especially the second time when you were more with it. How did that feel? You had no control, they could do what they liked with you. Was that a turn-on?”

“Nice idea love. It could have been, but they were so respectful — even M when she was there. I mean she’s seen me naked hot and horny, but she was so bloody professional. She could have stuffed me with a vibrator while she did all that medical stuff, or opened the curtains while I was naked, let everyone have a good look. I’d have liked that, but did she? Nope, not a bit of it. You’d think she was a prude.”

“She’d have been fired.”

“Yeah, I know. Does that answer you?”

“Kind of...”

“And?”

“My biggest question is whether it has to be strangers. I can see why that works — you do crazy stuff with guys you’ve never met — you don’t even know their names, you come home to me for forgiveness, punishment, reconciliation, and life carries on.

“The two things are separate. If you did all this crazy stuff with me, then the forgiveness and reconciliation would make no sense, there’s no separation. So logically it ought to be strangers. The trouble with that is that none of them know what you really want or need. They may not be wild enough, which makes it a sordid waste of time and you have to pretend to me that it was good, which makes you feel more guilty. Worse still the strangers may go too far and put you and us at risk or you may take bigger risks because you’ve done it all before and you have to keep going further.”

He stopped, looking at her nervously.

“And there’s no forgiveness for being dead or ending up trafficked into some whorehouse.” She had been looking at the ceiling as she said it but now her gaze was fixed on him. “So is that it?” she said, “boredom or disaster and nothing in between... actually that’s not fair, I didn’t mean that you are boring.”

“I know what you meant,” he said.

“So is that it love? Is that it?”

“No, but I haven’t quite figured out the whole thing.”

“So I have to wait until you do?” Her gaze was fixed on his face, questioning, seeking answers.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s... um... new. I suppose I deserve it.”

“Think of it as another kind of power exchange, losing control.” For a second he chuckled. “It only works if I do come up with the goods, boredom, and frustration is a loss of control, but I’m guessing it’s not the kind you’d keep coming back for more.”

That got through. “Oh wow, some serious thinking’s been going on.” Candy chuckled. “So... if I give control to you... how long for?”

“That’s the part I’m stuck on... like when to start, how to start, I mean who decides, how long for, how to stop, what happens then?”

“Poor you,” she said.

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

“You’re not cut out for a dominant role.”

For a second something changed, a fleeting tension in the muscles of Andy’s face — almost giving away an understanding maybe, an ah-ha moment of some sort, but it disappeared as fast as it came, being replaced with a grim smile. He paused, holding on long enough to get her attention.

“More domination was not previously required. You were happy to submit to any random guys. All that was required from me was keeping score and administering punishment at a rate determined by me.”

Andy stopped for a second and looked at Candy. He hesitated, was this the right time? Could she take what he was about to say? Lying there in the bed surrounded by medical gear she looked so vulnerable. Trying to hold on to his stern voice he decided to risk it. Right now where there was no escape might be the best time of all.

“You changed things. You broke a fundamental rule when you took off with Elroy. You abandoned Sue, your guardian angel, I doubt if you heard her say that Elroy was a crazy driver. Sue still feels guilty. Sometimes, from now on, you being out of control may have to mean you being controlled, totally controlled. Do you accept that?”

Working hard to hold himself steady and determined he waited, watching as her face changed and as realisation began to dawn that maybe he was serious.

“Yes,” she said eventually, “but...”

“But?”

“I don’t want to ruin everything.”

“Ruin what exactly love?”

“Oh, God.”

“Try to say what’s in your mind. Let the words come out. I’m not giving up on you, I’m not annoyed with you. I want to get us through this and out the other side to somewhere that works for us. We have to be completely open but don’t underestimate me and don’t make assumptions about me. There may be things I can’t do or don’t know how to yet, but don’t assume anything.”

“Most of the time we were doing okay weren’t we?”

“Yeah, no question.”

“I don’t want to lose that.”

Andy could see tears forming in Candy’s eyes.

“Honey, I get that, but how would we be if that was all we had? I don’t want to find in six months time that you end up cheating behind my back and then feeling guilty and unhappy.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“You already did with Marsha, and I think it did make you feel guilty.”

Candy sighed and if it was possible for someone lying in a hospital bed on supplementary oxygen to collapse, then she collapsed.

“Don’t look back,” he said. “This is clean sheet time. I fucked Marsha, or to be more exact she fucked me behind your back, so we’re all even and it’s great having her with us. Call that a success. Cheer up. I am going to find a way forward. Most of the time you will be you but now and then I’m going to take control of you and use you or make you do things that you will have no choice about.”

“No choice?”

“Maybe a limited range of choices, but sometimes no choice might be better. I’ll work up the details. I think it has to feel like no choice don’t you?”

Candy lay still and closed her eyes. Andy reached an arm under the covers and in a second Candy’s eyes opened wide.

“Hey, that’s cheating.”

“Yeah but there’s no bluffing that. This is as good as a lie detector.”

Candy sighed. “You win. When does this start?”

“When I think you’re well enough or so desperate that it has to start sooner.”

“What about these rules?”

“You need something to think about, so you can think while you are in here, but I’m not promising to accept any of your rules.”

Andy sat still, waiting, watching. After what seemed to Andy like an age she opened her eyes again.

“And if I don’t think of any?”

“I’ll have to do it all?”

“Or there are no rules. That’s what slaves have isn’t. No negotiation, no rules, just being owned and controlled.” She took a deep breath, her head lying far back on the pillow, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. “The thought of giving away all control is making me even wetter. I’m really going to enjoy thinking about this while I’m lying here. You’re a genius.”