“Then there were the masters,” Alison continued, deadpan as the women around the table giggled, grinned and cheered her on in this unexpected routing of the men. “Have you ever met a master who wasn’t an asshole? The mean ones are scary psychopaths and the benign ones are as oppressive as Jewish relatives.”
“Don’t you love the ones who want to boss you over the phone?” Alison continued, “with their, ‘Pull down your panties, kneel on beans, insert ice cubes into your pussy, hop on one leg, sit on marbles, shove your butt out a window, put on red stockings and masturbate for me. You agree to everything of course, while placing orders on-line.
“Or what about those liberal doms who will allow their submissives to be handled by others, provided they can sagely supervise? What the hell is that about?” Alison asked.
“They’ll claim it’s for the safety of their darlings,” explained Marguerite, “but they just like to watch.”
“Yes,” agreed Polyxena, “and also to make sure the other man doesn’t do too good a job and charm their girl away.”
“Well, to make a long story short,” said Alison, “My father finally died, making it safe for me to return to Random Point. Now I could finally enjoy the beautiful house he left me! I got a job as assistant comptroller at Braemar. There I met Paula and David.” Alison nodded at the polished blonde who during the period Alison was thinking of, had been Paula Rohan, soon to become the first Mrs. Ambrose Bartlett, only to subsequently divorce him and finally end up the wife of Sloan Taylor. David Lawrence was the Braemar English teacher who had brought Hope out with him from California several years before.
“I overheard Paula and David talking about spanking and demanded to be let in on their secrets, admitting that I was one of them,” Alison went on. “They told me about Hugo’s magazine, and encouraged me to place an ad in it. I took their advice and was amazed that one of the first people to answer my ad was Freddie Johanson, who actually worked at Braemar, as the network manager. At first he didn’t seem like my type. Too nice for me, I thought, too sweet to be capable of actually spanking a girl. But we worked it out between us,” Alison smiled. “And, well, he turned out to be a very good spanker.”
“Yes, he did,” thought Polyxena Guzman, regarding Alison with an innocently benign smile.
“May I ask a question?” Hope addressed Alison.
“Yes,” said Alison, who in the next breath forestalled the question by turning to Marguerite and saying, “but can we review again, are we supposed to be totally frank or delicately diplomatic here?”
Marguerite replied, “Ladies, what do you think? Shall we speak the truth here for our mutual edification?”
“If we all told all our secrets,” said Susan, “we’d be here all night.”
“You would at any rate,” said Marguerite.
“I haven’t misbehaved in years,” said Damaris serenely.
“You also have the steadiest and most reliable partner,” Susan pointed out, speaking of her once brother in law, William Random, to whom Damaris was now happily wed.
“I’m conflicted on this issue,” Hope admitted, “though I myself was about to pose a volatile question to Alison. The problem is one of female comradery vs. loyalty to our various men.”
“Perhaps we should agree to disclose only the data we feel comfortable about revealing,” suggested Paula Taylor.
“For my part,” said Phoebe Casper Robbins, “I’d want any information available about my husband.” All the others looked at her with interest, for this was the second time she had expressed suspicion of Pascal’s fidelity that night. She squared her creamy, half bare shoulders and added with some warmth, “He’s always snooping around for information on me!”
“I like the idea of frank disclosure,” murmured Polyxena Guzman. “And I love the idea of a society of women in our village. We should be loyal first and foremost to each other!” the mostly dominant, partially submissive Dutch siren declared.
“I would love to know what my husband gets up to,” said Pamela sincerely, “but I have the feeling that he gets up to so much that no one could ever know it all.”
“But might not full disclosure breed jealousy and resentment?” asked Amanda, not forgetting that she probably had the most to conceal from Pamela if she wanted to retain her budding friendship.
“I’d still rather know the truth,” said Pamela, then turning the question back on Amanda, adding, “wouldn’t you?”
“You mean about Colby?” Amanda grinned, trying to imagine Colby even thinking about approaching another girl while they were apart. She simply knew that he would not. She owned him that year, brain, body and soul. He was living for the moment, approximately once month hence, in the London airport when they would reunite after their June separation and spend the next month traveling Europe together. And except for a few local distractions, she was living for that moment too. Because for all the attention she was getting from wealthy Raphael and Jaime the pool boy, it was the hand written post cards from Colby that made her heart contract with joy.
“All right, Hope, ask your question,” said Alison.
“Did David play with you that first month you came out?” Hope asked immediately.
Alison hesitated for just a moment, before admitting, “Yes, but let me explain. He only did it to make me feel better after I found out that Freddie had been playing with Polyxena.”
Every eyed turned on the fair Netherlander in the bosom hugging toile halter dress. Blushing and sipping her white wine, the thirty something beauty gave a little shrug and stammered, “I was curious.”
“I find that statement reasonable and I am satisfied,” remarked Hope.
“There’s something I should add,” said Alison. “About Freddie. Because it’s brought me to a curious emotional pass that most of you have probably never experienced. You see, shortly after I started seeing Freddie I found out that he’s not a top but a switch.”
Eyebrows were raised all around as a hush fell over the room.
“Yes, I was surprised too,” said Alison. “He wasn’t ever going to tell me, but it was how he justified having played with Polyxena while dating me.” Polyxena Guzman looked puzzled, so Alison hastened to explain to the fair-haired spa owner, “You see, everyone thought you were a dom when you came to Random Point, including Freddie, who apparently thought you were flirting with him in a mistressy sort of way and became extremely excited by the prospect of subbing to you. When he discovered he had misunderstood you, he pressed his inner reset button and topped you instead. And if I’m not mistaken, satisfactorily?”
Polyxena blushed and nodded.
Alison sighed. “When Freddie told me all this I was doubly upset. First because I was jealous of suddenly having to compete with a blonde goddess for the attentions of my man,” said Alison, without rancor, for the hurt had long since been healed by the constant attentions of her loving and loyal fiancé. “But also because I had to confront the fact that that my man is a switch, which didn’t shock, but confused me. I needed to ponder how I really felt about this revelation, so I pretended to be angry only at the fact that Freddie hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me the truth from the beginning. In the interest of fairness and political correctitude, I also felt I had to man up, if you will, and offer him the erotic release he had sought with Polyxena. After all, he is the man I love and I’m sophisticated in the ways of the scene, so why should I want to deprive him of his chosen foreplay? Using his betrayal of me with Polyxena