"Clare, Ella, Amy, Jo and Toni," she said, "And Ange of course." Have I ever met these other women?"Kim considered that for a moment before answering."Yep, Clare and Ella were at the Christmas party at work, Amy and Jo are old school chums and I think that you may have seen Toni at that cafe on Lonsdale Street." I have no idea," I honestly replied. "Men," she exasperated.As always the day progressed as normal. There were no furtive texts, no hushed phone calls, nothing. She even wore nothing but a pair of jeans and a spectactularly unsexy top. No slinky, sexy gear, no spare bag full of lingerie, nothing but her small handbag and what she was wearing.Her hair was simply tied back and she wore the barest amount of makeup. Less, in fact, that she would wear to work.Now the next thing that I did does have some ethical questions that I will leave unanswered, but I'm a forgetful kind of man and purchased one of those tracking key ring things that uses GPS to find them.I bought it for. Obedience seemed more crucial than sexual satisfaction,a situation which made rebellion a possibility that grew fainter aseach day passed.Chris and I had always been quite open with each other, freelydiscussing everything; but we never talked about the Date Nightexperiences. She must have felt that as Mistress Chris she wasentitled to unquestioning obedience, and no explanation was needed.I was reluctant to bring up the humiliating things I'd been forcedinto; feeling that Date Night was better kept separate from therest of our life. Strange as it might seem, this unspokenunderstanding had enabled us to maintain a normal, lovingrelationship except for our bi-monthly wild excursions into kink.Even with all of my inner turmoil, I was very agitated todayas tonight was Date Night again. My curiosity about what Chris hadplanned was mixed with a sense of dread. Ever since she had broughtother people into our private game, she had increasingly grown moreperverse in her scenarios. Once.
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