Free Fem Dom by Tony Cane-Honeysett Page A

they wanted to relinquish responsibility albeit for just brief moment in their lives. Instead of telling others what to do, they wanted someone to tell them what to do. So, it was the submissives who were really in control, not the person dominating them.
    Relating this to Clem all seemed to make some kind of sense. He fit the profile perfectly. After all, Clem had a lot of power at work and a great fear of losing that power. But would that explain his need to explore this kinky way of behaving? Obviously, he was ashamed of it otherwise surely he would have expressed some of this to Tara. Why did he feel he couldn’t share this intimate side of his nature with his own wife? Was he scared she would leave him? Was it about the sex? Was sex even involved? Getting tied up and beaten is a far cry from the simple pleasures of good old-fashioned fucking. Tara started to feel sexually inadequate. She thought about what they did in the bedroom. He liked oral sex, giving and receiving. They mixed it up pretty often so it never got repetitive. She would straddle him sometimes while other occasions they’d do it doggie style. That was pretty edgy, wasn’t it? Obviously, not kinky enough for her more needy husband. So, was it her fault that she didn’t satisfy Clem in the bedroom? Endless questions were spinning through her mind.
    One word kept coming up again and again: Control. It was all about control. This need was controlling Clem, Clem was controlling her, and she had no control over any of this. Fact is, she’d let Clem’s career control her life. She’d never wanted to move from sunny California to freezing Minnesota but she did for him. Now Tara felt like she really didn’t have control of her own life anymore. That would change from this day forth. Right then and there, Tara decided it would be her turn to take control of matters now.
    Tara knew the knee jerk reaction for any woman in her situation would be to simply confront Clem and let him explain his actions. But in her mind, she could see Clem reprising Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men yelling at her ‘You can’t handle the truth!’ which she feared might also be true. Confronting Clem was always an option but she had other ideas how to discover an even greater truth that would serve her better because this was now about Tara taking control of her marriage and her life, with or without Clem.
    A shot of adrenalin coursed through her veins. It was like a thousand watt light bulb had just exploded in her frontal lobe. Grabbing her cell phone again, Tara suddenly felt empowered. If she didn’t like the situation it was up to her to change it.
    Frank Bergenson and Kurt Fitzgerald waited floor for the elevator. “I like the campaign. It’s solid,” Frank nodded approvingly.
    “Solid? It totally rocks!” Fitz shot back, surprised by his boss’s faint praise.
    “Well, to tell you the truth, I don’t get it. But who gives a shit whether I get it or not? I’m not meant to get it. I’m not the target market. If kids can relate to it, that’s all that matters.”
    The two men stepped in to the elevator and descended to the underground parking garage. “I can’t remember the last time I jogged anywhere come to think of it. Has Clem seen this?” Frank asked.
    “Very funny.”
    “Good. Then I want you to fly down to Louisville. Take Charlie Knutson with you. No one else needs to know.”
    ”What about Clem? He’s bound to find out.”
    “Get the ball rolling. Go sell the campaign to Rebakor and jump start the approval process. I’ll handle Clem. Tell Molinaire and his marketing department that Clem’s out sick or something.”
    Back on Dunkirk Crescent, Tara’s hand was getting clammy holding the card for so long. She paused and thought some more, searching for Dutch courage. She called the number again and once more the voicemail picked up.
    “Hello. Leave a message,” said the anonymous female voice at the other end.
    “Hi, I’d like to make an