Rachel Goes Back to School Ch. 02

"Meaning?" I said.

"He is always watching and it's easy to see his interest," she clarified, and then asked again, "What do you think I told Josh?"

She was showing more interest in the student than I had seen before, which intrigued me, but I decided to be sarcastic, and answered, "You told him you were focused on the maintenance man."

"Haha... very funny," she replied as I snickered, and then said proudly, "I said I preferred older men."

"Like Larry," I replied, and laughed again.

"I knew you were going to say that," she fired back, and then added, "Don't you think it was clever?"

"Yes, sweetie. Very witty. What did he say?" I asked, to give her a chance to finish the story.

"Smartass," she responded and then answered, "He told me I didn't know what I was missing."

"He's bold. That's for damn sure," I said.

"Yes, he is... very," she replied.

The interchange made me think of the question Dr. Kott had proposed, and since Rachel was in a good mood, I decided to tell her about it.

"You know when we went to dinner with Dr. Kott and his wife. While y'all went to the bathroom, he told me something," I said.

"What?" she asked eagerly.

"He said they were swingers. You know, they trade partners," I explained.

"I heard that. It's a rumor at the school. I think everyone's heard it," she answered, which took a bit of fun out of the telling.

"Well, there's more," I announced.

"What?" she asked in the same eager voice.

"He wanted to know if we wanted to join them. You know... swap with them," I told her.

"Really? Why didn't you tell me before?" she asked, and then just a second later said, "What did you say?"

"I said, sure! Anytime," I laughed.

"No, you didn't" she countered.

"Well, what do you think I said?" I replied, turning the tables on her.

However, unlike me, she answered immediately, "You told him no thanks, it wasn't our thing."

"How did you know?" I asked, impressed she had nailed my brief response.

"A good guess," she laughed.

For just a moment, I considered whether the professor had shared our discussion with Rachel, but quickly dismissed it. I felt for certain she would share any overtures from the man, especially in her more open state.

"Yes, a very good one," I replied, chuckling, too.

"He wants to meet us for dinner again. I said we would next time you came up for the weekend," she announced.

Her statement, coming so close to the information I had just imparted felt a bit strange, but I just nodded and said, "Okay, maybe next weekend."

Rachel gave me a happy nod, and we became quiet for a time before she offered, in a nervous voice, "Larry checked on me."

"What do you mean? When?" I asked.

"Last night. He wanted to make sure everything was okay. With me... and us," she explained.

"Us? You and me?" I fired back.

"Yes... that you weren't angry," she replied.

"Where did you talk? Did you let him in the condo?" I asked.

"Yes, but just a few feet," she answered, and once again I heard nervousness.

"Were you going to tell me?" I pushed.

"I just did! And no... nothing happened. I was in my school clothes, no robe and he was very respectful," she clarified.

"Good. Seems like you have a good hold of the edge of the pool," I replied, taking a little dig as I tried to keep my smile from appearing.

"Smartass," she responded as she shot me a dirty look.

With that, we moved on to other things although my thoughts did return to her interaction with Larry later in the evening. I guessed his question had been an attempt to find an opening in our relationship that he could exploit. I felt miffed that it had taken her almost twenty-four hours to tell me about the conversation, especially since she had been so forthcoming about the other approaches. It made me wondered whether she felt any lingering shame or perhaps even an element of excitement in the interaction. Also, I had to consider that she might want a small space in her psyche that she could keep as her own.

We did indeed arrange to meet the professor and his wife for dinner the following Friday. However, rather than enjoying a weekend getaway, our daughter planned to exchange places with me on Saturday. She would spend the day shopping with her mom while I returned and spent time with our son.

"I don't know why, but I have a feeling the evening will be odd," I told Rachel as we prepared.

"I think you want it to be," she giggled from the bathroom.

We met the older man and his wife at the appointed time and while he appeared fine, his wife seemed nervous. I thought it might be her outfit as she wore a very sexy, almost risqué dress that showed a good deal of her legs and the rise of her breasts. Rachel noticed it too and several times gave me a discreet, questioning look. The woman barely spoke throughout dinner, and only then when directly addressed, seemingly content to let her husband carry the social burden. The meal was good, but we finished within an hour, so I expected Dr. Kott would suggest a visit to the bar. However, he had other ideas that we would soon discover.

"I suggest we return to our home for a drink. It's not far and we have some outstanding Polish vodka you might enjoy," he said.

I tried to make eye contact with Rachel, but the professor worked his gaze so it was impossible to make discreet eye contact.

"Rachel, what do you think?" I asked, deciding to throw it over to her since it was her relationship.

Several seconds of silence followed before she replied in a clear voice, "That sounds wonderful."

I couldn't tell whether she had a sincere interest in going or I had upset her with my punt, and it wasn't until we were in the car that I had the opportunity to ask.

"Do you really want to go?" I asked.

"No, but you dumped it on me. I see him every day. You're supposed to be the bad guy," she explained.

"Okay, well... we won't stay long," I replied.

The drive was indeed short and we pulled up at the curb as their car turned up the driveway. They met us at the front door, and once inside, Henry directed me to the living room while the women departed for the toilet. We chatted for a moment and then he departed to fetch the drinks, returning just as Anna and Rachel appeared. He held a tray with three chilled shot glasses and a bottle of liquor that appeared to have just come from the freezer.

"This is Bison Grass vodka," he said as he set down the tray.

"Anna?" I said, taking one of the glasses and offering it to the petite woman.

"She doesn't drink vodka," her husband replied so I handed it to Rachel, and when she was ready, he said, "Na zdrowie."

The professor and I downed ours but it took my wife three sips to finish. Quickly, the man re-filled the glasses and we repeated the process.

"It's pretty good," Rachel said, which brought a smile to the Polish man's face.

"Yes... very smooth," I concurred.

"Would you like to see the house?" the professor asked.

Of course, we nodded our assent and the couple immediately began to guide us through the rooms. Their tastes ran far different to Rachel's and it appeared to me that in general, the space was more about functionality than style. I put it down to the simple fact they were college professors but made sure, as did my wife, to give numerous compliments. Finally, we were back where we started although the tour was not quite over.

"Would you like to see the garage?" the man asked.

"Uhhh... I guess," I answered, unsure why he would want to show it.

Dutifully, we followed him down a hallway, with Anna behind, and when we stepped through the door, I realized it wasn't a space meant for cars. Even though I had no exposure to the practice other than what I'd stumbled across on the internet, I recognized that they had set up the garage as a bondage dungeon. Multiple devices filled the room, but the cuffs and bindings hanging from many were a dead giveaway. Rachel's recognition trailed mine by several seconds, but when she openly gasped, I knew she had figured it out.

"I know by now you have discussed my offer at the restaurant, and since you agreed to meet a second time, I concluded you must be open-minded," he started as we stood speechless. After letting his words sink in for a moment, he continued, "Anna is a submissive... my darling little pet. This is her place to play. Also, to be punished when she has misbehaved."

"Uhhh... okay," my wife said, clearly uncomfortable.

I thought about beating a retreat, but since it was her relationship with the man that had gotten us to this point, I decided to engage a bit, and asked, "What's that device... that frame?"

"A Saint Andrews cross!" he announced, and then quickly continued with, "I'm quite proud of it as I made it myself. In general, I'm not good with tools, but it came out quite nicely."

I swear I could feel my wife's eyes boring into me, but deciding to continue, I asked, "How does it work?"

"Well, you can see of course the cross. The arms and legs extend along the boards and cuffs hold them in place. If Anna has been good, then her back is against the cross and she's teased. If she's been bad, she is bound the other way and spanked. There is more that can occur but that is the basics," he explained with his accent adding a surreal effect.

"Okay, thanks Professor Kott," my wife said trying to end the conversation.

The man, pleased by my questions, ignore my wife, and said, "Perhaps, Anna can show you."

The message startled me and I struggled to respond as I visualized the pretty woman spread eagle on the device. Certainly, he wouldn't put her on display and allow her demeaning in front of relative strangers, but as his words sunk in, I wondered if, in their world, it might enhance the experience. I expected Rachel to say something, but she stayed silent, and slowly I looked her way, expecting a furious expression. Instead, when our eyes met, I saw confusion and when she raised her eyebrow, I knew she was questioning my intent.

"Look, I'm not sure..." I started.

"Anna, prepare yourself," he suddenly instructed his wife, cutting me off.

Immediately, her hands went to the zipper of her dress and I realized that if I didn't act the Polish woman would soon be standing naked before us.

"I'll be inside," my wife whispered and left.

However, her departure had no outward impact on our host or hostess, and when the dress fell at Anna's feet, I could see she only wore a push-up bra. She had a taut body, and the lack of children showed in her flat tummy. Surprisingly, she had a course thatch of dirty blonde hair covering her mound. When she released her smallish breasts from the bra, I could see they were adorned with tiny nipples of the lightest shade of pink.

"Anna has not been good today so we'll place her face down," Dr. Kott said and this time his accent made him sound like an angry fascist.

Dutifully, she moved into position and it only took a few seconds to secure her wrists and ankles. The ease with which it occurred, along with the existing marks on Anna's butt, provided ample evidence that the act was a common occurrence. Then, I noticed something nestled between her cheeks that I couldn't make out. It looked like a blue circle and I felt very naïve when it dawned on me that she had a butt-plug inserted in her ass.

"Anna loves her flogger but we'll start with a crop," he said and stepped towards a stand that I could see held a variety of devices.

The item he chose had a small handle, a shaft of about three feet, and on the end a thick leather square. He moved it through the air several times creating a swishing sound and while he did this, I noticed Anna's butt moving slowly.

"Such a little slut," the professor said, seeing her action, too.

The tone of the Polish man's voice had changed. Before we entered his dungeon, he spoke in a formal, reserved voice that usually lacked emotion. Now, his interest came through plainly and at times I almost sensed glee. It appeared he was now in his element, the place where he found the most joy. Several more times, he waved the whip through the air, and then he stepped towards his wife and landed a stroke squarely on one cheek. For a normal person, I thought the blow would cause them to cry out in pain, but she took it with only a tiny whimper.

Mesmerized by the sight of the naked woman receiving punishment, at first, I didn't notice my wife had returned and stood silently just a few steps behind me. I turned to her but she stood stoic, looking past me towards the Polish pair, so I turned back. A small smile appeared on the professor's face as he whipped his wife who now emitted a continuous low moan.

Anna's lovely body shivered with each blow and I wished that somehow, I could see the expression on her face and the jiggling of her small breasts as the whip landed. Had she been quiet at dinner knowing what was coming and was her slit wet with her secretion? These thoughts racing through my brain caused my dick to stiffen and I found myself looking on in anticipation for the next strike.

Kott's effort had purpose but he didn't show any anger, and intuitively I knew I was watching a very practiced hand. He showed patience, giving his wife time to recover between blows, and I guessed he had landed a dozen when he stopped and turned towards us. For a moment, I wondered if he expected some applause or some other type of recognition for his work, but he had other ideas.

"I can continue with Anna and give her the true discipline she deserves or perhaps you have considered my previous offer," he said.

"Thanks, but we need to be going," I answered and turning, I almost ran into Rachel who seemed dumbstruck.

She quickly snapped out of it and said to the professor, "Thanks... uhhh... it was a nice dinner."

"Of course," he replied.

Rachel quickly exited and I was about to follow when the professor waved his hand in a silent gesture to wait. I stopped and watched as he picked up a small package from a nearby table, stepped over, and placed it in my hand.

"A gift," he said in a low voice.

Not waiting to look, I nodded and took after my wife finding her near the front door. We were soon at the car and it took concentration to keep from stepping hard on the pedal.

"Get me to a bar. Now!" she demanded, and seconds later she erupted into a raucous laugh that lasted several seconds before she added, "Oh my God."

"What kind of company do you keep?" I asked, which brought more laughter.

We stopped at a jazz bar, not far from the condo, that we had passed many times but never tried. The place smelled of cigars and on a small stage, a trio played. With only a smattering of people, we managed to find a table separated from others, but still spoke in whispers due to the decadence of the subject.

"I've seen everything," she declared, and then after a giggle, she added, "How am I supposed to face them at school?"

"How do they know you won't tell everyone or do they care?" I pondered.

"I don't think they do. I told you about the rumors," she replied.

"That garage... wow. They're serious," I said, shaking my head.

"Poor Anna..." she said in a low voice.

"Poor Anna? Are you joking? She was enjoying every second," I countered.

"She had to be humiliated... having to be naked in front of others," Rachel replied, but I don't think she even believed it.

"I think she loved it. Plus, nothing to be ashamed of," I teased.

"You looked?" my wife asked sarcastically.

"Just the technique your mentor was using," I laughed.

"Yeah, right..." she shot back.

"He wants you. He seems a little fixated," I said recalling the man's second request.

She started to speak and then stopped before looping her arms through mine and saying, "Not my type, sweetie."

"Well, he is older..." I said, referring to the message she delivered to Josh.

"You're not funny... not even a little," she replied with faux disgust.

"Oh, I forgot. I got a party favor," I laughed and pulled the small box from my sports coat.

"Where did you get it?" Rachel asked.

"The professor gave it to me when we were leaving. You had gone ahead," I explained.

"What is it?" she asked as I turned the cardboard covered object around in my hand.

"I'm afraid to look," I replied.

"Give it to me," she said and snatched it from my hand.

In a flurry of tearing paper, she opened the box, and suddenly we were looking down at a shiny silver object about three inches long. I recognized it immediately but Rachel didn't and I stifled my laughter as she inspected the device.

"What is it?" she asked holding up before her face.

"Put it down, Rachel. People will see," I said and took hold of her arm.

"What is it?" she repeated, now both curious and nervous.

"It's a butt plug. It goes in your butt. People in the world where the Kott's play use them. Like a toy, I think," I tried to explain although I was unsure about the true dynamics.

"Why did he give it to you?" she asked.

"Rachel... sweetie. It's for you..." I explained and instantly a shocked look appeared on her face.

"No, way. I'm not putting that in me. My butt's sacred," she said just a little too loudly.

I looked around and spotted a couple at a nearby table looking our way so I indicated with my eyes for Rachel to tone it down. She gave me a dirty look and then stuck out her tongue, but she settled back into her chair. Indeed, she had always declared her rear off limits and all my attempts at anal adventure had failed. Of all the toys he could have offered, this one, I thought, had the least likelihood of use. However, I knew when we got back to the condo I would try. At least, I could enjoy some entertainment watching her defend her butt. I took the plug from the palm of her hand, dropped it into my pocket, and just a few minutes later, we departed.

We were naked quickly, jumped into bed, and began to cuddle. When I thought she had reached a nice level of arousal, I rose, took the device from my coat, and grabbed the lube we kept for emergencies. Rachel saw my plan and moved to the far side of the bed with her butt facing the wall.

"Uh uh... no way," she declared.

"C'mon, let's try," I said as I moved closer.

"No," she stated firmly.

I gave her a moment to calm as my hand stroked her side and then took the metal object and started running it along her body. I noticed the top had a quartz-like red covering and recalling Anna's blue one, I wondered if Dr. Kott had purposefully selected the color for my wife. Minutes ticked by as I kept up the effort but when I tried to move my hand to her rear, she turned onto her back.

"No," she said once more.

"Not even try?" I whined.

"Not tonight... Maybe some other time," she answered, although I knew that the likelihood was remote.

I departed the next morning so she could spend the day with our daughter, but returned the following Wednesday for my first follow-up visit with the urologist. It had been a little over three months since the procedure and from our prior consultations, I knew it would determine the trajectory of my recovery. Purposefully, I had scheduled the appointment for late in the afternoon and intended to take my wife to dinner afterward. Then, depending on how I felt, I would either drive back late or wait until the following morning.

For the test, I had to sit in a small room and masturbate into a container, which was awkward, to say the least. Then, they immediately took the sample for analysis and I sat in the waiting room for over an hour before the doctor called me back.

"Well, how is it?" I asked.

"There is some motility, but you're on the low side of the spectrum," he answered bluntly, but quickly added, "It's not uncommon for things to take time, so I suggest we have another test performed in a few months."