EXTRACT FOR
Mutual Submission
(Emily Sinclaire)

Scott did not have to watch the other five disks or even finish the first to know what he had to do. Grabbing a clipboard, several sheets of printer paper and a pencil he went down to the basement. From his mostly neglected workroom he grabbed a measuring tape and then got to work sketching out the basement. There was nothing he could do about the small laundry room or the even smaller one next to it housing the furnace, but that left a mostly unused fourteen by twenty-three foot room and an eleven by eighteen foot back room used to mainly store seasonal stuff. As his eyes excitedly darted around the room he mentally moved that stuff out to the loft above the garage. 

He sketched in shelving and cabinets, laid out where certain items of a fetish nature he knew about would go and left plenty of room for things yet undiscovered. Going back upstairs, he hit the internet hard looking at images of personal dungeons and all the equipment that goes in them all the while jotting down a rapidly growing list of things he needed to buy and work into the design he saw coming together on paper. 

Orders were placed, shopping was done and over the ten days Scott spent every spare second measuring, cutting, hammering and building. New walls were put in to house recessed shelves and cabinets. Utilizing his training and expertise as an electrician he ran new lighting to highlight various pieces of furniture and equipment that would soon be delivered. Taken on various jobs with his father since the age of twelve, he had learned a great deal about every aspect of carpentry and remodeling, but the one thing he never got the hang of was tile work so once everything else was finished he called his friend Paul who had spent the last eight years doing such work. 

Eleven days after receiving the videos of his wife's interracial gang bang Scott came home from work to find a small box sitting on the front porch in front of the door. Picking it up, he carried it and the rest of the mail inside. Tossing everything else on the stand he used his key to cut through the tape on the box but before he could pull out the contents his phone rang. Seeing his wife's number, he answered after one ring. "Hey babe."

"Hi hun," Erica replied, the nervousness in her voice apparent. "You got a minute to talk?"

"Of course. What's up? Wait, don't tell me. There were complications and you need to stay in Phoenix longer than expected."

"Um, something like that. There's no good way to say what I need to tell you so I'm just going to say it. I did something fucked up and very spur of the moment and, um, I won't be coming home for a while."

"Okay...what have you done and what do you mean by a while?" Scott asked despite already knowing the answer.

Erica paused, took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled before answering. "I've quit my job and signed a contract making more than three times the money."

"Okay, doing what? And why can't you come home?"

"I'm a sex slave," Erica answered. A long silence followed. "You still there?"

"I'm here."

"I'm a sex slave now and in the last week and a half I've done some really fucked up shit and if you want to divorce me I understand but if you'll hear me out..."