Because She Loves Me · Part 3 (3/6)
Previous · Next
tivated to put the same effort into my next birthday, because so far this has been an amazing gift. If she is beginning to enjoy this, oh wow for me.
An hour passes before she returns. I am exhausted from straining in this predicament. And I would like to move onto something new. Without question, I want to continue with the bondage play, just something else now. “OK Toy, are you done with sitting?”
“Yes Ma’am.” First off are the locks to the leg cuff attachments to the bench. She keeps the cuffs on my ankles. The freedom of being able to move and swing my legs is a welcome relief. Then the slow cranking open of the vise. As the handles turn my anticipation grows. I want to stand free of my entrapment. She teasingly takes her time. But I am released, and she helps me stand. I want to cup my balls but can’t as my arms are still cuffed behind me. She then provides some first aid. She has a soft rag and a bowl of what appears to be milk. She rinses the rag in the milk and wipes down my balls. The cream has lost its sting, but it still feels good to feel it being wiped from my sack.
I am surprised that there is minimal pain from the time they spent held by the vice. The pain from the cream is now nonexistent. My scrotum is fine. My butt, however, is notably sore as the butt plug still fills me and is vibrating away, what up to a few minutes ago was background noise. I notice that the attic temperature is rising. We must be well into the afternoon. It’s going to be both sexual and physically hot for the remainder of our attic play.
Chapter 7: Bondage with a Virgin When I restrained my wife in bondage play years ago, I installed eyehooks into the rafters, the floor and some studs to tie the ropes or connect the chains which held her. I never took them down except for the ones threaded into the floors. I circled the floor holes with a marker so I could find them if we decided to play here again. My wife has taken advantage of this work as I am taken over to that end of the attic. The hooks are back in the floor, and she locks my ankle cuffs to them with short chains, spreading my legs wide, but not uncomfortable.
As part of the aforementioned play, I also had created a suspension bar from a three-foot-long metal pipe that I had mounted eyehooks on each end and one in the middle. The end hooks are used to attach cuffs. The middle hook is used to attach a rope to hoist the rig up towards the roof to one of the eyehooks I had in the rafter and then back down again with the end tied off on a hook in one of the wall studs. This was kept somewhat hidden in the attic, but she has found it and put it back into use. The bar is dangling just above my head. She locks my wrist cuffs to the end hooks then hoists it up, so my arms stretch above my head. They are taught but not straining.
She elects to blindfold me again and says she’ll be back in a little while. It’s not a long wait. It gives me time to settle into my new restraints, ponder the last adventure and fantasize about what may happen next. I hear her return up the steps and can tell she is setting something up in front of me but of course I can’t see it. We have quality blindfolds in our toybox.
And then she is on me, pressing against my upright bound body, rubbing, cuddling and fondling it. I can feel that she is in some kind of outfit. I am anxious to see what it is. She is giving my privates special attention, a pleasant change from what she had previously done to that area on the bench. Now I am being sucked. Gently, lovingly. I’m quickly hard. It’s her and the pills I was given this morning, but it’s mostly her. I’m getting too excited, and she senses it and stops. She slides back up to me and starts passionately kissing me. I kissed back, loving it, but wishing at the same time she was sucking me again.
“Easy Toy, easy. This is my time now, not yours,” she whispers. Then she pulls off my blindfold and backs away. She is dressed in all white, lacy lingerie. White stockings. A tiny white garter holding the stockings, but it covers no panties, they are not there, allowing her shaved pussy to be exposed and vulnerable. She wears a white corset that makes her waist narrow and pushes up her beautiful champagne glass exposed breasts. A white lace choker and matching wristlets finishes the ensemble. She takes a few steps back from me where she has covered the floor with a comforter and numerous pillows. She lays herself down on the quilt and cushions so that her privates are fully exposed to me.
She then begins to fondle and caress her own body in a very innocent yet erotic manner. It’s beautiful and hot and arousing. I’m already hard and I’m staying that way completely on the visual arousal she is providing. Oh, I want to have my hands to stimulate myself. Frustration is one of the things that make bondage so much fun for me.
She starts to masturbate herself with one hand as she plays with her nipples, Wow oh wow. Live porn. She looks so much younger than her age. The outfit, her shaved pussy, her fitness, the firm, youthful B titties. Oh, so hot, erotic, beautiful. She is slowly exciting herself, fully planning on reaching orgasm in front of me, intending to sexually frustrate me as she pleasures herself and she is. She now is working her clit with a vibrator as she tenses up, shutters as she cums hard. She then for a few moments massages her breasts till she recovers enough to begin working her cunt and clit again. I just hung there, loving every moment of the show.
She is so beautiful, hot, and looks like the brilliant yet naive and innocent girl I dated in college. She is the little girl I fell in love with. She cums a second time, just as spectacular as the first. She rests and recovers and puts the show on for me one more time. I’m still hard as she finishes the tease. Now it will be for real. She gets up and lowers my arms and removes my cuff hands from the bar. “Sit down.”
“Yes Ma’am” A little difficult with my cuffed ankles but the chains allow enough freedom to get it done. She then lays me out flat and stretches my cuffed wrists to chains attached to other floor eyehooks that were part of the old setup. Next, she gives me an ‘open your mouth wide’ command and inserts a spider ring gag into my mouth and buckles it tightly behind my head. She ends my new bondage setup by putting a towel under my head and neck, then resumes her sexual cuddling and fondling of me, laying on top of me, having a good time. And so am I.
She smothers me with kisses, licking my lips held open by the gag and starts sliding down my body, stopping to suck on my nipples before arriving at my cock where she begins one of her magnificent blow jobs. Her tongue work is unbelievable, gliding up and down my shaft, her lips rivalling any vagina lips in doing their duty. Her hands help with lower shaft work and the fondling of my slightly tender balls. She brings me to the brink, then slows me down, then up to the brink and then back down again. She keeps me going for a long time, bringing me right up to the edge time and time again. The bonds making her normal over the top sucking even more incredible.
She spins around and pushes her pink pussy lips to my face as she continues to suck me sixty-nine style. I lick her with abandon through the ring. I am pretty good at licking too, even when inhibited by a forced open mouth, and she responds.
I’m getting close again. She stops and spins around again, this time moving into a woman-on-top intercourse position. She aligns with my swollen cock and does a dance tease up and down on the head, finally plunging down and swallowing my dick with her cunt. She then fucks me like there is no tomorrow. I do my best to thrust up into her, restricted by my ties. This is bliss. It’s glorious. A fuck to remember, but after all that I have been through today I can hold off no longer and cum hard within her. A lot. She keeps riding me till she can feel me going limp and will soon fall out. It is only then that she lifts herself off me.
She immediately places her hand over her vagina while she again turns around and I know what is coming and why I have this ring gag. She moves up to my face, puts her vagina over my mouth and removes her hand. She flows readily. I put a lot of my cum in her and it's now being returned to me by gravity and her twitching twat. “Lick it good, don’t leave anything behind. I don’t want to take another shower.”
She is in no hurry. And likes the attention I am giving her outer and inner lips and her swelled clit. I have a lot of cum in my mouth and that isn’t pleasant. I don’t have a plan. She does. She climbs off me and removes the gag, saying “It’s easier to swallow with that out of your mouth. I’m going to watch as you do. This is a hoot because it’s something you know I won’t do, yet with the birthday treat you asked for, you have to swallow as my submissive.” She is smiling broadly as I do.
I am again left here as she goes back downstairs, vibrator still running in my butt. They weren’t lying about it running for eleven hours or more on a charge. I had swallowed as I was commanded, but there was still residual cum in my mouth. At least it’s mine and not the boys from Vegas. The room is getting hotter. I’m thirsty. But I am happy in my bonds. My dick is certainly happy too. It has even started to recover.
Chapter 8: Bondage with a Dominatrix It’s probably been a good half hour, likely more, before she comes back up the steps. I arch my neck up to take a look as she crests the top step. She has changed; my innocent lace covered angel has transformed into a leather clad dominatrix. It is an outfit I know, thigh high boots, tight corset laced up tight in the back pushing her boobs up and out, collar, and cap. All black leather. Evil looking but hot. She wears this occasionally during our normal sex encounters and then on previous birthday bondage play. Added to the outfit today is a strap-on around her waist and a flogger in her hand. That clues me in on what to expect next. Mixed feelings when I see both.
She comes right up to me and yells, “You Son of a Bitch! You raped my innocent little sister. Filled her with your dirty spunk. Ate her out! You’re going to pay big time.” She tried to sound convincing in her roleplay, but acting was never her strong suit. Singing, she has a beautiful voice, but an actress, no. That doesn’t mean the physical aspects of this play falls short as she begins to swing the flogger targeting my cock, balls and nipples. In our past bondage play, one of the things that disappointed me most was her hesitance to provide punishments. She didn’t want to hurt me and thus her attempts to paddle me, whip me, whatever, fell well short of satisfying my wants and needs.
It would make her feel bad and not want to play at all. Someone has given her a pep talk. I’m not whipped like I was by the Doms in the Vegas dungeon, but I am being effectively thrashed. I’m pleased. I’m proud of her.
It doesn’t go on long, I crave more actually. She has other plans for me, and she wanted to get on with them. I am released from the floor, helped up and directed back to the Workmate. This time she has me stand up in front of what one would consider the front side. She has put a pillow on top of the work surface and wrapped it in place with plastic wrap. Not sure when she did that. She secures my ankle cuffs to the front legs and then bends me over the top so my chest rests on it and secures my wrist cuffs to the feet of the front legs. I am now in the perfect position to have my butt fucked and that is exactly what I expect.
It is, however, not what she does first. This position presents my butt cheeks well too. She is still playing the vengeful dominatrix hell bent on punishing me. I can’t see what she is doing but upon the first swat I know. She has my leather paddle from the trunk. She has hit me for real, and it smarts. Then a second swing lands on the other cheek. Though startled, I still don’t cry out. I have been previously trained. Third and fourth hits land. I feel her rub the cheeks as she checks out her work. I must be getting red. Then five/six and seven/eight. Real hits.
Another rub and a comment that was something like, “Cool, bright red, nice, I think I can get into this.” I then hear another hit and it’s not me; I think she just took a swat on her own ass. Her words this time sounded real, I think, at least for the moment, she meant it, even tried it. Wack numbers nine and ten come in maybe a little harder. Is she done at ten? No, as eleven and twelve land. Still at full force. Is she counting? I think she was, as she stopped at twenty, ten each cheek. I know my cheeks must be beet red. She then utters to herself “Nice work girl, I think he liked that just like they said.” Then to me she says, “You OK, happy?”
“Yes Ma’am. Thank you, Ma’am. Your Toy loved it.” Selfishly I wanted to provide positive praise and encouragement.
I feel the butt plug go silent and feel her pull it out. It comes out easier than it went in, but still not pleasant, it is large. She puts it somewhere. I’m a bit relieved. In Vegas it would have been put in my mouth to be cleaned. She wastes no time. She is at my mouth. “Make it wet, real wet, or expect some pain.” This time she said her lines with a little more punch but still words that I haven’t heard her say before. I do what I’m told. I am proud of myself because I know I did a good job of lubing up the dildo. I have had practice that she is unaware. I also have practice taking it where she is about to put it.
She moves to my butt hole. I feel her place some lube around and inside my hole; she cares about me. And she pushes into me. A strap on isn’t as good as the real thing. They flex a little too much. But it does get the job done. She is plowing me good for a person with limited time in pegging her husband. I confess she has done it before to me, once during bondage play and once during regular sex. She is using her whole body. Thrusting hard, rocking on her toes, pushing off them. She goes deep and makes long full strokes. She is even changing up her speed, sometimes going slow and deliberate, other times fast and hard. Occasionally she pulls all the way out, rubs my butt, then smacks it with her hand, I guess to remind me about my recent spanking. Then she plows me some more.
Eventually she finishes and pulls out. Finishes the fucking that is. She has been coached by the boys. She is now moving around the bench to my face. “Open. I want my dick cleaned.” I am used to this too. I don’t like it, but I have been subject to it many times when the boys were abusing me. But this is different. When out west, I would be internally cleansed at least once if not twice a day. That was not done today. I was woken and we got right to playing. No bathroom stops for anything. Instead, I had my ass plugged and vibrated for hours and hours. This prick about to be pushed into my mouth must be soiled. “I said open and clean me,” she demands as she slaps my cheek with the dick. So, I open. I wanted to be the sub; this is part of it.
I am right. The dildo is well coated, especially the tip. I take it in. I can’t object, it’s me who wanted to play. If I balk, it will wreck the scene. I clean it off for real, not just going through the motions. She stands still so I must do all the work moving my mouth up and down the shaft. It takes both my lips and tongue to get it done and that takes some time, certainly longer than I want. It feels clean, it’s my mouth that now feels dirty. She backs away from me. And I see her taking it off. Something tells me she is a little put off from what I just did. You could say she made me, but I do have safe words. I know this wasn’t her idea, this was suggested to her, strongly encouraged, I’m sure. Probably under the story that I want this. A guy thing. Not the truth. I hope she doesn’t think less now of her once perfect husband.
What has been left in my mouth surprisingly isn’t that bad. It’s more psychological than anything. It doesn’t taste awful. Not something you’d want to eat every night, but some of the cum and piss I’ve been forced to take in at times has been worse. And I have had to taste myself before, just not in the quantity that was loaded onto the dildo today. I know the slight bitterness it has. New to me is that I notice that there is a bit of texture in the little clumps I licked off. As they dissolve in my saliva there are a couple pieces of grit left behind on my tongue. I find myself subconsciously licking my lips, drawing into my mouth what was left on them. And I’m not puking or gagging.
I don’t feel sick to my stomach. I’ll be fine. I’m a big boy. It’s just ‘me’ in my mouth. Better certainly better to swallow than someone else’s ‘me’. The bride comes over with a bottle of water and tells me to drink.
“Do you need to rinse?” she asks.
“No Ma’am, I’m fine, really, the drink of water will be enough.”
“OK, you still want more? More play, I mean. We are done with you sucking my strap on.”
“Yes Ma’am, please don’t stop playing with me unless you don’t want to continue.”
“Oh, I’m still good and some of the fun stuff for me is still coming.” I’m not sure what that means but I’m pleased. I’m not ready to stop, this is my ongoing fantasy coming true.
Chapter 9: Dinner Break She is back behind me again. She is fiddling with my ball sack, hooking me up to something. I feel my sack being squeezed and ball separated like they were earlier by the Workmate’s vise. I feel the device she is screwing down press against my hind legs. I realize what this is. A Humbler. I don’t own one. This must have come from Mike. Sir Michael put me in one during my first BDSM experience in San Diego. If you are unaware, as I was the first time one was put on me, a humbler is a device made of two pieces of identical shaped wood that are about 15 inches long and two inches wide with two opposing sweeping curves that meet in the middle.
In the middle of each piece is a portion hollowed out so that when the top and bottom come together, they create a space that can capture a man’s ball sack. The two boards are fastened together with bolts on each end and screwed down tight around the balls via butterfly nuts. When the balls are captured from behind and secured, the long boards rest on the back of the victim’s lower butt and upper legs. When the wearer tries to walk it tugs on the balls in a painful manner. A very slow shuffle, if that, is the best one can do. A fun and effective bondage toy.
She finishes screwing down the wingnuts and I have been hobbled. She unlocks my ankle cuffs from the Workmate and locks them together with a short chain. My wrists cuffs are then released and locked together in front of me. “Meet me in the kitchen and you can eat your dinner before we start your next adventure, Toy,” she tells me. I stand up from my bent over position. A relief for my back and stomach, but there is an immediate tug on my balls. Getting to the kitchen is not going to be easy and I have been left on my own to get there. I turn and make my first few steps forward.
I have to slowly slide my feet along the floor trying to have minimal movement of my hips and thighs to reduce the strain on my scrotum. It takes a few minutes just to reach the stairs. There is no way that I am going to traverse them going down forward so I spin myself around. Ever so slowly I bring one foot down the top step and then the other. With it comes a hurtful pull. I don’t see any better way to do this. So, grasping the railing with my cuffed hands for stability and leverage I dropped one foot at a time down to the next step. I take a deep breath and do the next one. I can repeat this about five times before my sack begs for a break.
I begin again, repeating the process, taking a second break before reaching the bottom. It is then a slow, slow shuffle down the hallway to the stairwell down to the first floor.
I ponder if I could sit down on the top step and then glide down step to step like little kids do. I try sitting down and doing it. Big mistake. Very painful just sitting down, then sliding catches the humbler and tugs so hard I almost shout out. Getting back to the standing position is just as bad if not worse than sitting down. I’m back to my original method, doing it now with balls that are more tender from my poorly thought out and executed plan of moments ago. I am finally at the bottom, and I head to the kitchen. There I am greeted with, “That took way too long. You need to be punished.
Bend over and hold onto your ankle cuffs with your hands,” she demands with a bit of glee in her voice. I comply, but the humbler is making it difficult, and my sack is straining and in pain. I am then paddled, hard, three strikes on each cheek. “I hope you enjoyed that because I am starting to like reddening your cheeks. It’s been the best part of the day for me.”
I am told to go sit at the table. I try but the humbler won’t let me. “Ma’am, can I stand, your restraint is trying to rip off my balls when I sit,” I beg.
“OK, but that doesn’t make me happy, I think you’ll have to get spanked again for your dessert,” she replies. She then sits my dinner plate down on the table in front of me. I wasn’t sure what to expect, out West my meals were minimal and at times part of the abuse regiment, even eating out of a dog bowl without hands. I’m looking at a nice plate of cheese ravioli in a red sauce with two meatballs, a piece of garlic bread and a glass of wine. Though my wrists were bound together, they were in front of me, I had my hands, so I could feed myself even though I had to stand. It was delicious. Most importantly, it changes the taste in my mouth from bad to good. Still, it would have been nice to gargle in between courses.
We both finish our salads and main course, including the wine. Thankfully she clears the table of our dishes as I am not very mobile. She fixes a cup of coffee for herself. I’m not a coffee drinker. She enjoys it with a small piece of pound cake as I stand obediently by the table, naked, hobbled and bound. She finishes, gets up and says, “Oh, that’s right, you didn’t get your dessert, bend over again please.” I am then paddled again three times on each cheek. I swear she is hitting harder each time she spanks me now. She then rubs my glowing bottom with her hand. “Rosey red, this time, nice. Good thing you are done sitting for the day.” She seems to have finally found something in my bondage play that she likes.
Chapter 10: Back to the Basement “I’ll give you a head start. I’ll meet you in the lower guest room,” she advises. I slowly turn around and start shuffling toward the stairs when my ass is warmed one more time on the right cheek with another firm hit. “That cheek wasn’t as red as the left,” she then announces as I continue to the basement. She didn’t need to defend her actions, I’m the submissive today.
It takes me a while to get down the steps and my bag is aching. I keep reminding myself that I asked for this, I wanted to be bound and used by her, and that I likely will not get it again with her till another year goes by, so suck it up. This discomfort is nothing to what I let the boys do to me. I finally get to the guest room and see that the bed has been cleaned up and cleared of its plastic sheet and has been remade with its usual sheets, comforter and pillows. New since I was here earlier and lying on the floor though is something I recognize. It’s simply a twin-sized mattress and I am pleased.
Underneath it are six cargo straps extending out on the floor on both sides of the mattress, ready for use. There are two large towels on top of the mattress to provide spill protection should there be any during play. Also, on the mattress is an eighteen-inch-wide roll of black industrial shipping stretch wrap. She’s going to put me in my favorite form of bondage. We have done this several times before on this very mattress; some years it was the only form of bondage she used. I even did her once this way. Of course, she hated it because it was too restrictive, the exact reason I love it.
It has taken a lot of convincing over the years to have her wrap me head to toe with multiple tight layers of wrap. Sir Michael has done it too. I can’t wait.
And I don’t have to wait long. She has joined me and is working on removing the Humbler. It’s off and I am happy. It turned out to be a nasty painful device. It is meant to keep the user from walking and yet I was forced to both descend stairs and walk around. Very effective in its intended purpose, my balls now ache. My wrist and ankle restraints are also removed and now I am standing before her naked. “Spread your legs and keep your head facing forward and close your eyes.” I do as I’m told.
I feel her hands spreading my butt and lube being applied to my hole. Then something blunt is pushed against it and I am told to bend forward. It’s hard and cold, I think it’s a steel butt plug, but I don’t own one like this. It must have come in the package sent from out West. With effort and a little pain, she is starting to make progress with the insertion. She is working in a no-nonsense mode, and with some twisting and in/out push pulling she forces it past my spinster. The plug is a large one, Sir Michael wouldn’t have sent anything less. It’s not uncomfortable now that it has been seated, but she is still fiddling around with the protruding base. She is snapping a wire to it.
I now get it; it’s an electro plug. I am immediately concerned about how I am going to be shocked. It’s not something she has much experience with as I usually use electroshock in my self-bondage play or when we are having non-bondage kinky sex where I am controlling my own stimulation, so this could be interesting. Electro play can be a lot of fun with some programs and at reasonable levels and can be pure torture at high straight shock levels. I can feel the power-leads dangling between my legs. I’m uneasy. She then tells me to stand back upright, and she takes a narrow six-inch roll of shipping stretch wrap and wraps between my legs and around my hi
