A Spicy Invitation

Mr. Stanton was my teacher at law school. That’s why I call him “Mr. Stanton” and not Oliver. He was an admired, respected teacher, with a couple of books under his belt and over two decades of a Roman Law class that was always full. That’s why, when I got a spicy invitation from him, I didn’t know how to react.

I knew that Mr. Stanton had retired a few months ago. He had quit both his college position and the law firm for which he had worked practically his entire career. I thought that he would devote his life to writing or resting from now on.

Well, that wasn’t his plan.

In the invitation, which was actually a letter, he explained to me that he had opened a bondage studio. “Bondage?!” I thought. And, as if he had read my mind, he continued the letter with an explanation of how he had always been kinky, but he’d had to hide it all these years. I get it. Neither the college nor the law firm would have been very happy to know about this hobby of one of their most respected members.

Now that he was free (that’s the word he used), he had moved to another city and “followed his bliss.” His partner in the business was a former exotic dancer with whom he’d had a relationship all these years. They had just gotten married.

That was the second surprise. We all thought that he was a closeted gay, as were many homosexuals from his generation. However, now it turned out that he had been in a relationship with a stripper all these years. You think you know someone, but you actually don’t!

Anyway, the spicy invitation ended with a handwritten note. Basically, Mr. Stanton invited me to the inauguration of his bondage studio. I can go either as a guest or… He would be happy to hire me as one of the bottoms.

That raises a lot of questions, if you ask me!