Strictly Susan –
The Third Collection
Smashwords Edition
Susan Strict
Copyright 2006 Susan Strict
Strict Publishing International
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Cover artwork by Brendan M Baker
Stop It
“Stop it,” she said as he kissed down her stomach. “I don’t like that.”
“Every woman likes that,” he assured her as he continued lower.
“Stop it!” she said more forcefully, grabbing his head and pulling him upwards. “It’s not nice. Don’t do it.”
He raised his head, looking at her bemused.
“You think it’s not nice? You really don’t like the feeling of a man doing that? Or you just think you shouldn’t?”
“All of them,” she told him. “Don’t do it. Make love to me. Properly.”
“You’d like it if you let me do it,” he grumbled, but he did as she asked and was rewarded with her polite little sighs and slight quiver of appreciation just before he reached his own climax.
She slept snuggled against him, her firm breasts pressed against his side. It was comfortable, pleasant, and gave him a feeling of warmth that was so much more than just the heat from her body. He turned slightly, being careful not to wake her, and kissed her on the top of her head as she slept.
He did not sleep for a long time. She was beautiful and, more than that, she was the perfect wife. She did everything he could possibly want around the house, and more. She cooked, cleaned, washed and ironed, made sure everything was in its place where he could find it, and was completely attentive to him when he returned from work. Even when he offered to help as he frequently did, feeling that she already worked far too hard in the house and that he was doing too little, she politely declined his offer and asked instead if there was anything else he wanted.
She never refused him anything. Everything he wanted to do she always agreed immediately. Except, and there had to be an ‘except’, in bed. She never refused him, but neither would she do anything even slightly different. When he made love to her, as he did regularly and with much enthusiasm, she lay as if tolerating rather than enjoying it. She put her arms around him affectionately and pressed her hips upward to receive his thrusting, sometimes grasping his hips to pull him into her, but then too he felt that her interest was to hasten his climax rather than in any pleasure of her own.
He had asked her more than once what she liked. She smiled and kissed him. “I like you to make love to me in bed,” she replied.
“Don’t you want to try anything different?” he asked. “You could be on top, or I could kiss you all over. There are lots of things we could do. I’d really like to try something more unusual.”
“Oh no,” she told him. “It’s perfect just as it is. We don’t need to do anything nasty, do we?”
He agreed, because he loved her. He certainly did not want to do anything she thought was ‘nasty’ or anything that might upset her.
“I think you might like some other things,” he tried to persuade her, “If you would just try them.”
She shook her head. She was just not interested.
**
It was late on a Friday night. For the first time in many months she had been out. It was a reunion with some of her friends who she had not seen for several years, and although she had said she would rather spend the evening at home with him, he told her to go out and enjoy herself.
He was already in bed. He was not asleep, and had been watching a late film on the little television in the corner of the bedroom.
He heard her come in. There was a crash from the front door and then a thud as she tripped over something and fell over. An expletive drifted up to him, startling him because he could not remember ever having heard her swear.
She staggered up the stairs and appeared at the bedroom door.
“I think I’ve had a little too much to drink,” she slurred, swaying from side to side.
He grinned at her. “That should do you good,” he told her. “It’s about time you let your hair down!”
She put a finger to her lips. “Hush,” she said indistinctly, “You’re very bad.”
“And you’re very good,” he said sarcastically, suddenly rather annoyed. “It would be too much effort to be even a little bad, wouldn’t it?”
He regretted saying it as soon as the words left his lips. It was very unfair. She spent most of her life making an effort to please him one way or another.
She did not seem to mind. She curtsied at him unsteadily.
“Well, kind sir,” she said, “Tonight I might be very bad, starting with these.”
As she spoke, she pulled apart the top of her dress, exposing her breasts only just contained in a low-cut, lacy, black bra.
“You’re drunk,” he told her.
“And you’re sexy,” she retorted, wagging a finger at him severely. “It’s very bad how sexy you are. No one had a right to be as sexy as you are.”
“Just get undressed and come to bed,” he said.
“I thought you wanted these,” she said in a disappointed voice, staring down at her partly exposed breasts. “They’re very nice.”
“Yes they’re very nice,” he agreed. “Now come to bed.”
“Oh. I forgot,” she said suddenly. “You prefer this.”
She lifted the front of her dress. “Look,” she said proudly. “Stockings.”
“You’re not wearing any knickers!” he exclaimed in surprise.
“Aren’t I?” she said bending forward to check. “So I’m not. Must have lost them somewhere. Oh dear. What a shame.”
She reached behind her and unzipped the top of her dress. She wriggled out of it, letting it fall to the floor.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” she asked him, “You do like this best. You like it so much you just want to kiss it and kiss it and kiss it and kiss it, but I never let you ‘cos that would be bad and I’m not bad.”
He did not answer. He was staring at her. In her black bra, black suspender belt and dark stockings she was the most desirable woman he had ever seen.
“I knew you liked it,” she said triumphantly, pointing at the bulge in the bedclothes. “And now you’re bad, and bad boys need a smack.”
She lurched forward, aiming a slap at the bulge. She missed completely and fell forward onto the bed.
“Oops. Missed.” She burped loudly. “Manners.”
“Come to bed.” He reached for her.
“Wait!” She put up one hand to stop him.
“Why?”
“’Cos I want a pee.” She clambered to her feet, trying to look dignified. She swayed and looked around as if unsure which direction she was heading.
“Ah,” she said, waving in the general direction of the bathroom. “There is it. Back soon.”
He heard her fall against the wall in the bathroom and then sit down heavily.
“Tinkle, tinkle,” she announced. “Can you hear that?”
“Hurry up,” he told her.
“Can’t rush it,” she said seriously. “Even when it’s noisy. I hate it noisy. I put loo paper down first in the ladies so no one can hear me.”
“I didn’t want to know that.”
“Yes you did,” she said, reappearing in the bedroom. “You want to know everything about me.”
She started towards the bed and then stopped. “Yeuch.”
“What’s up?”
“Pissed myself. All down my legs. Must have stood up too soon.”
“I didn’t want to know that either.”
“You can lick it off if you like,” she said cheerfully. “I expect you’d like that.”
“No thanks.”
“Yes you do.” She leapt onto the bed and knelt astride him. For a moment she looked down at him, studying him. He saw the glistening pearls of moisture on her thighs and between them.
“Lick,” she said, lowering herself towards him. “You’ve always wanted to.”
“Aren’t you tired?” he suggested hopefully. “Just get into bed and go to sleep. You’ll have an awful headache in the morning.”
“No I won’t,” she declared. “I don’t get hangovers.”
“Well you’ll feel bad when you remember this,” he said, but already she was pressing against him.
“Lick,” she suggested again.
Her damp thighs were against the sides of his face. He kissed deep between her legs and then pressed his tongue into her. She sighed with pleasure.
“You were right,” she told him. “It’s not bad.”
She squealed as he found exactly the right spot and sucked at her.
“Now that’s bad,” she gasped, “What are you doing?”
He had brought one hand up underneath her and pressed a finger into her, quickly adding a second finger without stopping sucking on her.
She jumped from him, panting and shaking her head. “That’s too much,” she said unsteadily. “Too much, too fast. I’ll have to do something about that.”
She disappeared into the bathroom again and returned with their two thick towelling bathrobes.
“You’re not going to wear that,” he said in disgust. “That’s not very sexy!”
“I’m not going to wear it,” she confirmed, pulling the belts from each of the bathrobes and dropping the robes on the floor. “I’m going to control your wandering hands!”
She jumped on top of him again, sitting astride his chest. Fumbling slightly, she looped one of the bathrobe belts around the corner of the bed and knotted it tightly on his wrist. She repeated it with the other belt, pulling his wrists towards the corners of the bed.
“Hey!” he protested, although he had had plenty of time to resist her while she did it.
“Got you,” she said with satisfaction. “You always wanted it kinky, so now you’re going to get it kinky!”
Without giving him time to reply, she moved up to his face. “Lick,” she said, and this time it was a command.
She moaned with pleasure as his tongue and lips worked on her for several minutes.
“Look,” he said, “Untie my wrists now. It’s getting uncomfortable.”
“Don’t stop!” she groaned, “Don’t stop.”
She pressed forward onto him, seeking his mouth and tongue on her again. He was half smothered by her, and poked his tongue into her as hard as he could. She squealed, and her body quivered. She pushed down harder, rocking backward and forward.
He tried to tell her that he could not breathe at all, that she was suffocating him and hurting him, but what little sound escaped from underneath her she ignored completely.
Several times he thought he would pass out from lack of air, but each time he managed to snatch a much needed breath as she squirmed on top of him. He had no idea how long it went on. It seemed like hours. Finally she shuddered, screamed, then relaxed, falling backwards onto the bed and lying exhausted, perspiring and gasping.
He closed his eyes in relief, wondering whether his face looked as bruised as it felt.
She sat up, removed her bra and stockings, and clambered into bed next to him.
“That was wonderful,” she said, kissing him lightly.
“Untie me,” he said softly.
She reached for the belts that held his wrists and pulled at them.
“I can’t,” she said. “It’s too difficult. My fingers are numb. Just go to sleep.”
“I need...” He thrust his hips upward slightly, knowing she would understand.
“I don’t feel like that now,” she told him. “It would be so boring after that wonderful...”
“You need to untie me.”
She shook her head. “I can’t,” she said positively. “Maybe in the morning I’ll be able to. Anyway, I’m sure I’m going to want to do that again and again, just as soon as I have my breath back.”
“You can’t leave me like this!” He was horror struck at the thought he might be not be freed until the morning.
“I can,” she said quietly, running one hand over his chest and cuddling close to him. “I most certainly can. Go to sleep now. I’ll wake you up when I need you again...”
***
A Vanilla Evening
“Come in,” she said, “So glad you were able to come round.”
“Nice to see you again,” he said nervously. Why, he asked himself, had she invited him? She had something planned he was sure, he just did not know what it was.
She’s got her friends round. I bet she has. She’s planning on parading me in front of them, letting them beat me and abuse me.
“Let me take your coat.”
She helped him off with his coat and hung it on a peg next to the little table in her hallway. He saw the handle of a riding crop poking up out of the umbrella stand.
I knew it. She’s going to whip me.
He followed her into the living room. There was a pleasant glow from the fire in the corner, filling the room with warmth. Such a contrast, he thought, to the cold night outside.
“Sit down,” she said, indicating the sofa. “I’ve cooked your favourite meal, but it won’t be ready for a little while.”
So that’s her plan. She’s going to torment me first. She knows I’m hungry and she’s going to tie me up or something and eat my favourite food right in front of me without giving me any. Or, worse, she’s going to tie me up, empty the hot food onto me and then eat it with her knife and fork digging into me each time she picks up another mouthful of it.
“You will stay the night, of course?”
ALL NIGHT! Where? Would she lock him In a little cage? Worse, would she leave him outside, naked in the cold shed tied to the roof supports? Or would he end up strapped to her bed - at least that would be relatively comfortable - while she hurts me and torments me repeatedly?
“Yes. Of course.” What else could he say? Disobeying her, he knew from experience, was never a good idea.
“Oh good,” she smiled.
Oh NO! When she smiles like that I just know she’s up to something, and it’s bound to be something particularly diabolical.
“I think the dinner should be nearly ready.” She disappeared into the kitchen. “Pour yourself a drink, if you like. I won’t be long.”
What has she put in the drink? Is she going to do something so unpleasant with me that she needs to drug me so I won’t try and stop her? How angry will she be if I refuse to have a drink? Do I dare to refuse her?
He opened a bottle and sniffed cautiously at it. It seemed all right. He poured a glass and sipped a little of it. It tasted normal. “Can I get you one?” he called.
“No thanks. I already have my drink out here.”
I knew it. There’s something in that bottle!
He put the glass on the side, not risking another taste of it.
“Here we are,” she returned to the room with two steaming plates.
“Where do you want me?” he asked.
Here it comes. This is the start of it. ‘Take your clothes off’ she’s going to say, ‘Take your clothes off and lie on the floor’.
“Sit there,” she suggested, “Opposite me at the table. Wait a moment, I’ll light the candle.”
So it’s tied to the chair desperately hungry while she eats and then drips hot candle wax on me.
He sat down, and she put one of the plates in front of him. “I hope you like it,” she said, “I’ve been preparing it all afternoon.”
They ate in silence. The food was excellent and far too good to spoil by talking. He looked at her nervously, careful to sit straight, and careful that he was using his knife and fork exactly the way that the best possible manners dictated. He took the greatest care not to drop anything nor, in fact, to do anything at all that might give her the excuse to start whatever it was she planned to do with him, at least until he had finished the last of the excellent food.
Finally, when there was no food left on either of their plates, she stood up and took the empty plates into the kitchen. She returned with a most excellent dessert, and again they ate in silence.
He remained seated at the table, now sipping the wine he had previously been too scared to touch. Feeling, almost, that after a meal like that he really did not care if he had to “pay the price” later.
“Could you do me a favour?” she called from the kitchen.
Here it comes.
He went out into the kitchen to find her.
“Could you tear me off a large piece of clingfilm, please.”
So it was to be smothering. To have the clingfilm wrapped round his face until he could get no air at all - until the moment she chose to poke a fingernail through it into his mouth or nostrils. Then the next strip of clingfilm stretched over the hole and the procedure repeated until he would beg for mercy, or would have begged for mercy if he had been able to speak.
Or to have the clingfilm stretched flat over him as he lay bound, and to have her kneeling on him, sliding around on his face under the clingfilm and blocking the air as she pressed down to have her pleasure. That would be the worst, for he knew only too well how she lost control of herself for those seconds, minutes, as she neared her climax.
She took the clingfilm from him and wrapped up the remainder of the food she had not served. “Tomorrow’s lunch,” she said with a grin.
The rest of the evening was as quiet of the meal. He sat still, almost as if made of stone, on the sofa as they watched a film on the television. She sat next to him, leaning gently against him and resting her head on his shoulder as she appeared to be becoming sleepy.
Eventually she yawned. “Shall we go to bed?” she suggested.
This is it. This is where she leaves me somewhere uncomfortable, probably freezing cold. I just hope she doesn’t tie me up as well. I can cope with the cage or even the shed, but I can’t bear to have my hands tied and forced into an uncomfortable position, not able to move to relieve my aching muscles for hours.
“I could go home now.” Somehow he did not think she would let him.
“You don’t really want to go home?”
I do. I don’t know why I came here when she sent that note. But I can’t disagree with her because I just know it’s only a few steps for her to get that riding crop when she gets angry. And she’ll use it. I know she’ll use it. And once she gets angry I won’t be able to do anything to stop whatever she wants to do. I must not make her angry.
“No, I don’t really want to go home.”
She took him by the hand and led him upstairs into her bedroom. She kissed him gently, then took her clothes off and got into her bed.
Raising her eyebrows, she asked, “Aren’t you getting undressed then?”
He obeyed, and stood beside the bed self-consciously. She patted the bed next to her. “Get in.”
This is it. Once I get in she’ll tie my wrists and ankles to the corners of the bed. She’ll smother me with her body over and over again, or she’ll put one of those terrible rings on me with the sharp spikes on the inside. It will be so painful that I won’t be able to get an erection properly, and then she’ll deliberately taunt me so that I’m screaming in agony with the pain of the spikes digging into me.
He lay on his back in her bed, all his muscles rigid with apprehension, his heart thumping and his breathing quick and shallow. He twitched with fear as he felt her hand on his chest, felt her long fingers and the touch of her fingernails.
He felt her hot breath in his ear and the heat from her body as she moved towards him.
Her mouth opened.
She’s going to bite me.
She whispered...
“Make love to me.”
He made love to her.
***.
He was Hopeless
Trouble at the stables
He was hopeless.
However much the instructors tried to teach him, he slid this way and that in the saddle and always looked as though he was about to fall off. Invariably, before the end of the lesson, he had fallen off at least once.
But he kept coming back for more lessons - taking the expensive individual tuition from the best of the stable’s all-female instructors. And still he did not improve.
Eventually the owner of the stables called him into her office.
“Look,” she said, “I really don’t think there’s anything more we can teach you. You’ve got to face it: you’re really not suited for horse riding. Surely you’ve realised? Why on earth do you keep spending your money on more and more lessons?”
He shuffled from one foot to the other, looking rather sheepish.
“Well?” she said, looking at him in surprise, “Why do you keep booking more lessons?”
He stuttered.
“Come on,” she said sharply, “Tell me.”
“You see,” he began, “I wanted to ride horses at first. But then...” his voice tailed off.
“Oh come on,” she snapped in exasperation, “You might as well tell me.”
He had turned bright red.
“I’m sorry, “ he explained, “But the women... the instructors... they’re so attractive. With the boots... the jodhpurs...the riding crops...” his voice tailed off again.
She stared at him in surprise, rather shocked at his admission and not quite knowing what to say.
Little by little an idea was starting to form in her mind.
“OK,” she said slowly, “I think we can help you. And I think I have a way we can guarantee you won’t fall of a horse when we take you out on it.”
“Really?” his voice brightened.
“Yes, really.” She had made up her mind now. “But you’ll have to do exactly what you’re told. If you’re prepared to do that, I think you’ll find it... interesting. Be here on Sunday at 7am. There will be no one else around then, just me and my two best instructors.”
He arrived at 6.45 on Sunday morning. The three women were waiting for him and there was no sign of anyone else around. The woods that surrounded the stables were quiet at the busiest times, and now they were completely deserted.
The instructors invited him into the office.
“Are you ready for this?” the owner asked him.
“I think so... but what are we going to do?”
She laughed. “You admitted you’re attracted to that dominant look female riding instructors have, and you want to ride a horse.”
“Yes, but...”
“No ‘buts’,” she was determined now not to let him back out. “You get a thrill from my instructors with their whips?”
“Yes...” he was nervous.
“And you want to ride a horse without falling off?”
“Yes...” he was more positive about that.
“OK then. And you agree to anything I’m going to tell you to do?”
“Anything?” he was not too sure about that.
“Anything.” She said firmly, “Otherwise you can go home and never come back.”
He hesitated. Then decided.
“Yes. OK. Anything you say.”
“Right. Take off your trousers.”
“What?!”
“You said anything. Now do as you’re told.”
As she spoke, the two other instructors entered the room. They did not wait for him to agree, but started to remove his trousers. He half-heartedly tried to stop them, but really was not trying too hard. As they pulled down his underwear, his excitement was obvious.
“Look,” he protested lamely, “This wasn’t quite what I had in mind.”
“Shut up. And come to the stable.”
With the two instructors grasping his wrists, she led the way to the stable and up onto the mounting platform used for children and beginners who were unable to get onto the horses without assistance. A horse was tethered alongside the platform, already saddled and...
“NO!” His shout echoed around the room.
“Yes.” And as she spoke he felt the sharp cut of her riding crop across his buttocks and the grip of the other two women on his wrists tightened.
He looked in dismay at the horse’s saddle.
Right in the middle of it, just where he would sit as he rode the horse, rose an erect, thick, stiff rubber cock, glistening with lubricant that clearly had just been rubbed all over it.
He felt the three women pushing him towards it, pulling one leg across the horse’s back and lowering him down onto it. He felt the thickness of it between his buttocks, easing its way in as it pushed him apart. He felt it enter him, slowly sliding inside as they pushed him down. He felt the pain as it went deep within him, and finally he was sitting right down on the saddle with the cock firmly embedded inside him.
They led the horse out of the stable, the cock straining this way and that inside him as he sat unsteadily on the swaying seat. They mounted their own horses, bringing them close to his and taking a practice swing each with their long riding crops at his partially-obscured ass, making sure they could reach. The stable owner directed her crop, experimentally at his own cock, which he suddenly realised was itself erect and pointing out from under his shirt.
“Good,” she said, “I’m pleased to see you’re enjoying it. Just remember we can reach you with our crops if you don’t do EXACTLY as you’re told. Now let’s start, before the horses become impatient.”
With the two other women on their horses each side of him, he pressed his horse forward out of the stable yard into the wood, amazed at the feelings inside him of the artificial cock that moved with every step the horse took.
“Right,” said the stable owner. “Now let’s get trotting...”
***
The Prisoner
No you can’t.
No, you’ll just have to wait. I’m not taking you to the bathroom now.
Well that’s just too bad, isn’t it? You’ll just have to control yourself. I strongly suggest you don’t do it in there. You can imagine what I might do to you.
*
I’m going to bed.
Yes. All right. I’ll take you to the bathroom now.
What?
You didn’t think I’d just release you, did you? No, this little lead and that enclosure round your balls will let me lead you just where I want to go. Now I’ll release your wrists from the straps.
I know it’s uncomfortable. It would be a lot more uncomfortable if you tried to pull away from me. Look, I’ll show you... Now stop that noise. I didn’t pull it very hard; not very hard. No, don’t be silly. I know that flexible enclosure becomes smaller when I pull on the straps, but really it didn’t squash your balls too much when I tugged it, did it? Get up off the floor and don’t be such a little wimp.
Here we are. I’ll keep holding the lead while you sort yourself out.
Finished? Good.
Now you can wash yourself thoroughly.
No you can’t have a flannel or a cloth. Look - there. See? Two little brushes. A red one, and a blue one. The red one I use for my fingernails. The blue one is for you.
That’s right. You scrub yourself thoroughly all over with it.
Yes. I do mean thoroughly, and I do mean all over – particularly there.
Now you’re being a wimp again. Of course it’s not hurting you. Scrub harder.
I said scrub HARDER. I want you properly clean.
That will do.
There’s just one more thing. I want you clean inside and out. This first - yes, it’s a bottlebrush.
Of course it will fit. Push the handle hard and the bristles will all squeeze in.
That’s perfect. But do stop making that noise. What’s the matter with you?
Yes, I can see you’re having trouble reaching properly. I’ll help you. Don’t move. Stay just as you are.
I told you to stop making that noise. You needed help with the brush, didn’t you? So why are you complaining?
Here we go, round and round, in and out. Twirl it, rotate it a bit to get everything completely clean. I’ll bet it feels quite nice, really. Do stop pretending you don’t like it.
All finished.
That’s very good. Now it’s to bed for me and to your cage for you.
Yes of course I’ll fasten your wrists securely. Surely you didn’t think I would leave your hands free? Of course I wouldn’t. There’s no telling what you might get up to in the middle of the night. Men have such nasty little habits, even when they are somewhere as uncomfortable as one of my little cages. Don’t worry, I’ll take you to the bathroom again in the morning.
Sleep well.
*
Good morning. Did you sleep well?
I do hope I didn’t keep you awake when I played with my little toys. I’m sure I didn’t. They don’t buzz very loudly, do they? Even the big one doesn’t make too much noise really.
You heard them? Ah. I see. You heard me. That must have been very pleasant for you. Frustrating too, I understand that. I am such an exciting person, aren’t I?
Shall I take you to the bathroom now?
You don’t seem very sure. You do want to go, don’t you?
Well, it’s your decision, but you won’t have another chance before this evening.
What?
Yes, of course I’ll want you to wash thoroughly again after you’ve been. I’ll not have you staying all dirty. Every part of you must be clean and sweet, inside and out.
Come on then. You know you want to.
*
There you go. Back in your comfortable wrist straps in your cage.
It wasn’t so bad having to wash again, was it?
Well, well. Look at that.
Now I did promise you I would help you to relieve that ache, didn’t I?
Where is it? Ah, yes, here we are.
You’ll like this.
First I’ll plug it in.
Pardon?
No, it doesn’t run on batteries. I think the motors would run the batteries flat too quickly. It is very powerful.
Shall I tell you all about it? It hardly seems worth it. You are going to experience exactly what it does in a few minutes. I think I will tell you anyway, because I’m in a really good mood and I think it will give you a bit of extra excitement. I don’t want your whole life to be total drudgery, now do I?
See this hinged metal ring? That fits over your parts and locks into place, just to make sure it doesn’t come off.
Now look here: you push ever so nicely between these two soft parts. Ever so soft they are. And, as you can feel, you’re pressing against another soft sort of cushion at the end.
What? Oh yes. You’re quite right. All the soft cushioned parts are textured to give just that little bit of grip and sensation. Not too much, I promise. Just the optimum surface to create the maximum effect.
It does feel nice, doesn’t it?
Yes, you’re right about that too. Those are quite strong springs between the locking ring and the main part of the device. It will allow the device to stay perfectly in place whatever size and shape you become while wearing it.
Let me turn it on.
Can you feel what it’s doing? I can see by your face that it feels wonderful.
Yes, it has an oscillating motor that creates variable suction. Those textured cushions squeeze and release, squeeze and release as it sucks at you. I think it should only be a minute or two before you...
And what I like best, is that it needs no attention from me. After you’ve done it, and I think you’re just so close already, those springs and textured cushions automatically adjust themselves to your shape and size... and keep going. Until I turn it off.
How wonderful for you - that sensation giving you the ultimate pleasure will keep on, and on, and on, and on, and on.
Do enjoy it.
I’m going out for a few hours.
***
Wedding Night
It was their wedding night.
Alone in their room, they were both excited by the prospect of what lay ahead.
Unusually for young people today, they had little knowledge of each other’s bodies having both made the decision to wait until they were married.
She had a strange smile on her face as she looked at him. He was nervous, very nervous.
“Take your clothes off,” she said, “I’ll be back in a moment.” She disappeared into the bathroom.
He removed his clothes and got into bed. She returned a few minutes later, wearing a long, thick bathrobe. She smiled when she saw him in bed.
“Do you want to play some games?” she asked.
“Whatever you want,” he replied, still nervous and anxious to please her.
She pulled the bedclothes from him, making him flinch with embarrassment. This was the first time a woman had seen him naked. She pulled the pillows from under his head and plonked them down on top of each other in the middle of the bed.
“Lie on those,” she said, and then told him to turn over when he lay face up.
“What for?” he questioned.
“You’ll see,” she answered, “I want you with the pillows just under the tops of your legs so that your bits are hanging over the edge of them. Then I can get underneath you to reach them.”
Then I can get underneath you. That sounded promising! He did as she asked.
“Now,” she went on, “I want to tie your hands. OK?”
He agreed hesitantly. He was becoming rather unsure about all this.
She produced two lengths of cord from the pocket of her bathrobe and tied one round each of his wrists. She looped them round the top corners of the bed frame, knotting them tightly. She pulled out two more lengths of cord, went to the bottom of the bed and did the same with his ankles, pulling his legs wide apart.
Suddenly he felt very vulnerable, his ass raised up in the air by the pillows under his legs, his cock and balls hanging in mid-air over the bed. He was unable to move, the strong cord holding him securely.
“Hey, come on,” he said, “This isn’t very comfortable.”
She stood at the top of the bed now, very close to him. He turned his head to look at her, and noticed for the first time the odd way her bathrobe hung around her. What on earth was she wearing underneath it?
He soon found out. With one quick movement she flung the bathrobe from her and onto the end of the bed. His eyes were first drawn to her large, beautiful breasts, but almost at the same time he saw with horror the black protrusion from between her legs. She was wearing a strap-on that glistened with the lubricating gel she had rubbed all over it. It was attached to black, shiny shorts that covered her hips and bulged underneath and at the side. He was speechless for a minute, but she pressed the bulge at her hip and he saw the strap-on start to vibrate and the bulge underneath her quiver as it too pulsed and vibrated. She wriggled with pleasure.
“No!” he said forcefully. “I don’t like that.”
“I don’t care what you like,” she replied, her attitude suddenly changing. “You’re married to me and you’re going to do exactly what I want.”
He started to protest, but she was not listening. She climbed onto the bed and knelt between his outstretched legs. He felt the end of her strap-on between his buttocks, and her hands on him pulling the cheeks of his ass apart as she pushed herself forward. The strap-on found his hole and forced its way inside as she pushed steadily. He screamed with pain and shock.
“Shut up,” she said pushing it all the way in until she was right against him. “Relax and enjoy it, or I’ll really hurt you.” She grabbed his hair and jerked him head back painfully and then slammed it forward onto the bed. Letting go, she dug her fingernails into his back and pulled them downwards leaving thin, bleeding scratches.
He gasped and moaned.
“You CAN’T...” he protested.
“I CAN,” she insisted, and started a slow pushing rhythm backwards and forwards with the strap-on.
He gritted his teeth and kept quiet, desperately trying to ignore the pain and the humiliation of what he was going through. He would NEVER let her tie him up again. This was absolutely crazy! But despite the pain and humiliation, he suddenly realised he was very aroused. His cock, already hard from the moment he had remove his clothes in anticipation of making love to his new wife for the very first time, was now rubbing against the bed as she pushed and ground the vibrating strap-on into him.
Her rhythm increased in speed and force, until she shook and shuddered, collapsing onto his back with the strap-on still inside him now pulled even more uncomfortably upwards as she lay there.
She did not move for several minutes, then slowly she withdrew from him and pressed the bulge at her hip again to turn off the vibration.
She took off the strap-on and peeled off the tight shorts, carefully removing the internal vibrating sections from herself. She knelt there, naked now, one hand resting comfortably on each of his buttocks.
“You see?” she said softly, “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
“I did NOT,” he replied angrily, his ass feeling badly bruised and as though it was on fire.
“I did,” she added dreamily.
“Untie me,” he ordered.
She said nothing. He could not see what she was doing, but he had the impression she had taken something else from the large pocket of her bathrobe that she had left on the end of the bed.
He felt her hands reaching under him and holding his still-hard cock. He could not see what she was doing.
“No,” he said, more gently. “Untie me.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said sharply.
He felt a sharp pain in his cock, and instantly it went limp. He felt a coldness on it; something metal round it, then heard a sharp click.
“Perfect,” she said, sounding delighted.
“What have you done?”
“Don’t worry about it.” She untied one of his arms to his great relief, but she pulled it down to his side and strapped his wrist securely to his thigh. She repeated that with the other arm. Then she loosened the cords holding his ankles and tied then together, pulling the pillows out from under him. She grabbed his tied legs and pulled him down the bed, then rolling him onto his side.
He looked down at his cock, and saw it enclosed in a curved metal tube with a small hole at the end. The tube was held in place by a tight metal ring round the base of his cock and balls. With the shape and size of the tube there was no possibility his cock could expand to an erection, nor straighten at all.
“What’s this for?” he demanded angrily.
“To keep your nasty bits under control, of course.”
“Take it off. Unlock it. I mean, how long do you intend to keep it on me?”
“How long?” She seemed puzzled by the question. “How long?” she repeated. “It doesn’t come off. Can’t you see? It doesn’t unlock. It just clips together and stays there. It hasn’t any daft stuff like keyholes and locks.”
She saw his terrified expression.
“Oh don’t worry,” she added, “You can pee through the end, take a shower or whatever you want. It won’t rust. It’s titanium steel. Very strong and totally rust-proof.”
Without another word she pulled the bedclothes right up over him and climbed into bed herself. She slid one leg under his neck, bringing the other over him so that her thighs pressed on either side of his face. Wriggling comfortably, she pulled his head up between her legs until he was against her.
“Go to sleep,” she said. “We’ll talk tomorrow about how I expect you to serve me...”
***
Magda was a Big Girl
Magda
was a big girl.
She was generally big-boned and just under
six-foot tall, although to say she was well proportioned for her size
would have been an over-polite exaggeration, She was fat. Not
flabbily, bulgingly, whale-like, but quite definitely fat and heavy.
It was evident she liked her food and she never worried if she was
several kilos heavier than the recommended weight for her height.
Her breasts were more reminiscent of basketballs than melons,
and her hips were wide enough that few men would have been able to
get their arms round them and fewer would be confident enough to try.
Her legs were not quite tree-trunks, but thick and solid enough to
not only support her weight admirably but also with the strength to
carry her at some speed on the rare occasions she wanted to move
quickly.
Yet Magda was not unattractive. Her long, dark hair
fell silkily around a pretty, if chubby face. Her skin was smooth and
supple, and her ample flesh bulged in a most womanly shape, without
sagging or hanging unpleasantly and without giving the impression of
real obesity.
More importantly, Magda was happy with herself
and her size. She was large, certainly, and it was a largeness that
suited her perfectly. She was content and confident, and that was
what mattered.
Magda, in fact would have made the perfect
wife for any man who liked women a little on the large side. She
would not have had too much trouble finding a man who was perfect for
her – if, that is, she had not decided that the right man for her
was Susan’s boyfriend.
Susan was furious when she found
that Mike had slept with Magda, but she hid her feelings well.
“That’s OK,” she told Magda, “I’d finished with him
anyway. But you do know the sort of things he likes, don’t you? All
the kinky things?”
Magda was a little concerned. “I don’t
know anything about that sort of thing,” she said worriedly, “I
wouldn’t know where to start with anything kinky.”
The
germ of a plan was forming in Susan’s mind. Revenge. The perfect
revenge on both Mike who, it was true, did have a liking for some of
the more unusual erotic activities, and on Magda who clearly had no
real idea at all.
“I’ll think about the sort of things he
likes and let you know,” she told Magda. “I’m sure I can help
you. After all, I might have split up with Mike, but I’d still like
him to be happy and you’re such a nice person. Just right for him.”
It was a week before Susan spoke to Magda again, and by that
time her plan was fully formed in every details. Also, she was
certain that both Mike and Magda would be fooled until it was too
late for either of them to do anything about it. Also, she suspected,
Magda would have already found out about some of Mike’s likes and
dislikes, and Mike’s shyness would have made it so difficult for
him to talk about his particular quirks that Magda would inevitably
be wondering what else he really liked.
“His favourite,”
she told Magda confidentially, “Is to be tied up so that he can’t
move.”
Magda nodded. “I know,” she said, “He told me
that much and we tried it the other night. It didn’t work very well
because I’m rather heavy for him.”
“Did he tell you
what he likes to do best when he’s tied up?” asked Susan.
Magda
looked a little uncomfortable. “I don’t like hurting him,” she
said, “I know he likes it a little bit, but I’m scared I’ll do
it too much or really hurt him or something. He tried to explain that
he always says ‘No. Stop. Don’t do that.’ when what he really
wants is for me to do it more, and so how am I to know whether what
I’m doing is right or not?”
“No,” said Susan, “Not
hurting him. What he really likes best is to have a woman just over
him, not touching, but close enough so that he can raise his head and
kiss her underneath.
You know what I mean.”
Magda did know what she meant.
“Yes,” she agreed, “He likes to kiss me there, and I like that
too. The trouble is, I’m rather heavy, and if I was over him just
an inch or two away, I wouldn’t be able keep myself there and keep
still very long particularly if he was kissing me.”
“That’s
OK,” said Susan, delighted. “I know just how it can be done, and
he’ll be even more excited because one of his fantasies is to have
another woman in the room too when he’s tied up.”
Magda
looked horrified. “Not two of us! I wouldn’t like that at all.”
“No, of course not,” said Susan. “I don’t want to
touch him. I’ll just be there to help you rig something up so you
can be a couple of inches above him for as long as you like. If it
gives him an extra thrill so much the better, but I won’t touch him
at all. You have my word on that.” She meant it.
“All
right.” Magda still sounded doubtful. “If it’s going to be what
he wants then I’ll try it.”
“Just remember,” Susan
warned, “He might say stop, but he won’t mean it. After all,
you’re not going to hurt him, are you?”
They decided to
try it that evening, Susan assuring Magda that it was exactly what
Mike really wanted the most, but that he was too shy to ask her
directly.
Magda took Mike upstairs not long after he came in
from work, and after the usual mild foreplay she tied him securely to
the bed, naked, with his wrists and ankles attached firmly to the
corners.
She looked down at him. “Do you want to kiss me?”
she asked.
“Yes,” he replied readily, “Make me kiss you
wherever you want to be kissed.”
Susan was waiting in the
en suite bathroom, and this was her cue to enter. “Hello, Mike,”
she said.
“GET HER OUT OF HERE.” Mike squirmed
frantically against the straps holding his wrists and ankles.
Magda
turned to Susan. “This isn’t going to work,” she said, “You’d
better leave.”
“Of course it will work,” Susan replied,
“You know when he says ‘no’ he means ‘more’. Just look at
how excited he is.” She indicated Mike’s rigid hardness, pulsing
slightly.”
“OK?” she asked Magda. “Go and get ready
then. I’ll make a start.”
Magda went into the bathroom as
Susan started to drag some strong cords from under the bed. She
stopped and looked down at Mike who was still protesting.
“Shut
up, Mike,” she said sharply. “This is your dream, isn’t it? To
be dominated by two women? Between you and me it’s going to be your
worst nightmare too, but Magda doesn’t know that and the more you
protest the more she’ll be convinced it’s part of the game. By
the time she finds out it will be too late, so you might as well keep
quiet and enjoy it while you can.”
At that moment Magda
came back from the bathroom and Susan went back to the job of getting
the cords ready. Magda had changed her clothes, and now she wore a
short, black nightdress and nothing else.
“OK,” said
Susan, “Get in position and we’re ready to go.”
Magda
positioned herself above Mike, ignoring his protests. She put her
knees either side of his head so that all he could see above him was
her enormous buttocks, thighs, and the fleshy parts in between.
“Arms out,” instructed Susan.
Magda put her arms
out to the side and Susan tied the cords firmly to each wrists,
pulling the long cords across the room and attaching them to items of
heavy furniture.
“That will help to support you,” she
told Magda. “I’ll do your legs next.”
Susan tied
another length of cord round each of Magda’s huge thighs, again
attaching the other ends to the solid items of furniture. As she
attached them, she pulled the cords tight, forcing Madga’s legs a
little further apart so that she sank down lower almost onto Mike.
“Susan,” said Magda urgently, “It’s not working. It’s
not supporting me.”
“Isn’t it?” said Susan, sounding
surprised. “I’m sure it should be.”
She came back over
to the bed and peered closely at the gap between Magda and Mike’s
face.
“You really don’t want to sit right down on him,
you know,” she said to Magda, “At least not for too long. I think
he’d be completely smothered, to say nothing of being squashed.
He’d disappear completely under you. You could suffocate him if you
weren’t careful.”
“But Susan,” pleaded Magda, “It’s
not going to work. The cords aren’t supporting me at all –
they’re making it worse and I can’t keep this position very long.
My legs are hurting me. You’d better untie me so I can get off
him.”
Susan shrugged. “What a shame it didn’t work,”
she said, and walked towards the door. “It would have been really
enjoyable for you both if it had worked.”
“Never mind,”
she added. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I expect.”
She left
the room, closing the door behind her.
Magda’s muscles
started to tremble from the effort of supporting her weight in such
an awkward position. Slowly but steadily she sank lower onto Mike’s
face. His noisy protests grew more and more muffled. Then they
stopped, and there was silence.