No One Needs to be Whipped by a Mensa

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I just joined a new book club. My brother’s girlfriend’s book club actually. My old book club involved much discussion of bird watching while sharing a bottle of wine. That’s one bottle. Six women. Do the math. Not nearly enough wine to be regaled with tales of rare birds hiding in tall grass. My brother’s girlfriend, Deidre, promised me that her book club would be much more exciting. More of a wine & gossip club with an occasional book and no bird watching. The book for my first meeting? Whip Smart: A Memoir. A memoir, to be precise, of a college student turned professional dominatrix. Wow, Deidre wasn’t kidding, her book club was exciting!

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