“Oh wait, there’s something else in here!”
It was a promotional pamphlet. On the cover was a woman with raven black hair in a deep black corset. “Mistress Bethany’s Dominatrix Dungeon” it said in bloody red text next to her.
“This place is actually pretty close to us.”
“What is it?”
“It says…’Dominatrix training camp. Learn to be a Master, and learn to be a Slave.’ Let’s go!”
My wife bopped up and down on her knees. I was mesmerized by her breast bouncing up and down. She really wanted to go to a dungeon? We had just gotten a whip in the mail, but if it involved dominating her, and using her, I was all for it. If she was horny, I was horny. This seemed a little extreme though. I didn’t know if I was ready.
“They have Masters on hand, and they have a team of slaves to be trained.”
She handed me the booklet. I turned the page and saw the various locations in the dungeon: there were rooms for every fetish. Then there was a line up of girls, all dressed up in open blouses and short skirts. All had collars around them.
It said, “Slaves at your command. Learn to be a Master with our slaves.”
“I’m going to go put my outfit on.”
Joan leaned down and kissed me. She noticed I was engrossed with the pamphlet after I saw the slaves. She knew we would be headed there soon.
“OK honey, I’ll be waiting.”