When I first started to telling my wife about my needs
she obliged me as a kind of favor. But as time passed
she became aware how useful my needs might be to her
and became more enthusiastic about obliging them. She
has suggested that I write about some of our times
together.
The following is not literally true however most of the
material is taken from real incidents. At least once a
month my wife tells me not to make any plans for the
weekend. This is to let me know that she has plans for
me.
For instance last weekend I came home to find her
dressed in a manner guaranteed to get me aroused. She
was wearing her 5″ high shiny black leather heels over
black fishnet pantyhose. Her body was encased in a
cinched corset over which she wore a cute little mini
skirt. Her breasts were bare. She was loosely holding a
riding crop I had bought her for these weekends.
I couldn’t help but blush with excitement, as she
smiled and whispered to me “Get prepared!”
Getting prepared is a ritual in which I bind myself
while she watches and instructs. I am always required
to bind my genitals and this weekend was no different.
First I strip naked and with a fairly thin nylon rope I
tightly circle my waist; then run the line between my
legs from front to back and on each side of my
genitals. Starting at the base of my now throbbing
member I tightly wind the rope around my shaft from the
root to the tip.
My wife insists on neatness. The wrap must be
consistently tight and even. If it displeases her in
any way she has me undo it and start again. When I
approach the head of my penis I loosely warp the rope
underneath the anchor cord running between my legs and
back around the top part of my shaft.
I leave perhaps 2 or 3 inches of slack. I then warp the
remaining line around the cord running from the head of
my penis to the cord on my stomach tightening the loop
just under the head. The effect is to anchor my tightly
bound throbbing prick an inch or two in front of my
body.
At this point she asked me to kiss her. My excitement
is contagious to her. I could smell her body warming as
I kissed and nuzzled her neck. Her breathing became
shallow. Making out with her like this is a kind of
torture in itself since as I become more excited the
ropes bite a little harder. Knowing I can’t consummate
my lust only seems to heighten it.
After some time she said, “Stop now. I want you in your
high collar, wrist and ankles manacles.” The high
collar is a leather fetter I built for myself made of
the double layer of thickest cow hide I could find. It
is highest at the back of the neck (about 7 inches) and
tapers as necessary near the adamsapple at the throat.
Sandwiched in between is a reinforcing flexible steel
sheet.
The effect is to hold my head high; I am unable to turn
my head when I am wearing this collar. The collar locks
in back with two padlocks. The manacles are standard
fair. Between my hands my wife ordered me to lock a one
foot chain and between my ankles a mere 6 inches.
“Don’t you look nice, love,” she teased as I finished
locking the collar around my neck. For a moment she
simply gazed at my helpless body. I never know what to
do with my hands when I’m bound like this. The slack
the chain affords is not long enough to allow me to let
them hang naturally by my sides.
Besides the chain always seems to get caught in the
rope binding my prick. Holding them up seems sort of
foolish too. I stood nervously before her acutely aware
of my wife’s smiling eyes. “Turn around now honey.”
I did as she asked. When I faced her again I felt an
incredible urge to make love to her. She toyed with the
key to the padlocks. She wore them on a thin silver
chain which hung between her gorgeous breasts.
“Well, you are suitably dressed for a weekend of
slavery and there is plenty around here for you to do.
Why don’t you start by making a fire,” she directed.
She picked up a book from the side table and began to
read. Of course chained as I was I could only manage
the smallest of steps. I moved myself over to the wood
basket. All the wood was gone.
“I’m afraid there isn’t enough wood here to make a
fire,” I told her.
“Well I’m sure there’s more in the shed,” she stated
without looking up from her book.
“You don’t really expect me to go outside like this to
get more wood do you?”
Here voice became a little chillier, “I expect you to
build me a fire now and without delay. Don’t make me
ask you again.” She picked up the crop stepped over to
me a delivered three sharp blows to my ass. “Get
going!”
We have developed an understanding about pain. I don’t
really find it stimulating. My wife likes it. Our
understanding is that it is only used when I displease
her in some way. The way she looks at it I regulate the
amount of pain I received by how obedient I am. I
immediately shuffled toward the back door with the wood
basket.
I am fortunate that we live in a suburban area outside
of the city and that it was already dark out. As I made
my way toward the shed I could see Mrs. Rosiere in her
kitchen at her sink. The next door neighbor’s dog gave
me quite a start when it started barking at the shadow
lurking back toward the house. The fire was soon made.
“Clean the bathroom now.” She was still reading and I
was hoping she might be interested in something else.
“Be thorough. The medicine cabinet is disgusting. I
want those shelves cleaned. Polish the porcelain and
wash the floor. I may take a bath later.” She looked up
at me.
I stood before her in obvious discomfort.
After a few moments she said, “Ok, you may speak with
impunity now. What’s going on?”
I flushed, “I-I’m so turned on baby. Can’t we huh…”
She cut me off. “When I’m ready. I’m not interested
now.”
I stammered, “W-well don’t you think I could be a
little more productive if I wasn’t quite so restricted.
This collar is a bit much and couldn’t I have a little
more slack in these chains.”
“Don’t worry love. I’ll motivate you.” She picked up
her crop. “Look. You didn’t have to do this. When you
came home you could’ve said ‘not tonight honey’. But
instead you locked yourself in my chains. Now I own
you. You don’t get any say unless I allow it. When we
first started this game I didn’t really know what to
think. Now I like it. I don’t have to do any chores I
don’t want to. I love that. And you do too!
“Right now I want the bathroom spotless. I don’t want
you to speak unless spoken to. You’ll address me a
‘Princess’ this weekend. You will obey me without
hesitation from this time forward or suffer the
consequences. Do you understand?”
“Yes Princess.”
“If you do as you’re told I might later give you what
you so obviously want,” she teased looking toward my
bound swollen member. “Right now I want a spotless
bathroom. When your finished come back down and I’ll
tell you what to do next. Now get busy and thank me for
it.”
“Yes Princess, Thank you Princess,” I replied and made
my way toward the stairs.
The chain between my ankles was not long enough for me
to step from one stair to the next. I had to brace
myself on the stair with my hands while I hopped up
each step with my feet together. I emptied the medicine
cabinet and scrubbed it down. I had years of
accumulated crusted medicines on the shelves and on the
back. I then got to work on the sink bath and toilet.
My wife is very particular about the porcelain. She
likes it to be cleaned first with a bathroom cleaner
like Comet but then she likes me to rinse the abrasive
stuff off the surfaces very carefully. This required at
least two full “rinses” after the initial scrubbing.
She likes me to do the floor tile on hands and knees
rather then with a mop.
My wife says I do a better job that way. She also
teases that it brings out the ‘slave’ in me. As I
finish up the final tiles I feel how tired my body is
already yet I am somehow oddly refreshed. I’ve spent
over an hour and a half on the bathroom. I return to my
wife still sitting on the sofa, dressed to kill.
“Clean up the bedroom now while I take my bath. Change
the sheets and vacuum under the bed. You may as well
start a laundry.”
“Yes Princess.” As I went about my task I could hear my
love in the bathroom running the water and luxuriating
in the tub while I as quickly as I could did has she
had asked. Moving the laundry and vacuum up and down
the stairs is one of the most tedious chores.
When I had finished the room my wife was again reading
by the fire.
“Put another log on the fire and get me a glass of
rose.”
“Yes Princess.” I stoked the fire and brought her, her
wine.
She looked me over enjoying my obvious desire for her.
“I would like my manicure now,” she said.
I knew nothing about manicures before I met my wife.
She has taught me so much about many new things. “Yes
Princess,” and I went to retrieve the manicure set as
she switched on the TV.
As my lover watched the news I kneeling before her
trimmed buffed and polished her nails. Touching her
hands as her bound servant thrilled me beyond
description. I was absolutely turned on but was not
permitted to do anything about it. “Turn off these
lights now and kneel here beside me.”
I did as I was told. She unlocked my hands and turned
me around locking them together behind me. Then we
began to kiss. She whispered, “I love you like this.”
She sat up in front of me with her legs to either side
of my kneeling body. “Don’t touch me with your prick,”
she commanded. Her hands roamed across my body.
My mind raced.
She fondled my balls. “You may kiss my breasts now,”
she breathed. With her hands on the back of my neck she
gently guided my face across the breasts I hungrily
licked and sucked. Her gentle breathing turned into a
soft moan. My prick was ready to explode.
After what seemed an eternity she said, “Smell what
your doing to me.” She then stood up and lifted her
taffeta mini shirt. The fish net shocking she wore had
a convenient hole around her pussy. She wore no
panties. Her aroma was obvious. I deeply breathed in
her intoxicating scent. I so much wanted to fuck her.
She sat down and shifted her pelvis up to the edge of
the sofa. “You may now touch the tip of you prick again
my body. Do not touch my body with those ropes. With my
tongue in her mouth I gingerly pushed my prick toward
the hole. I felt the dampness of her warm lips touch
the exposed head of my cock. “Push it in just a little,
but be careful not to go too far.”
I gently pushed forward and felt her lips gently grab
just the tip of my cock. “No more… oh you feel so
good… whatever you do don’t come. In fact stop
moving.” She then began to fondle her own breasts. “Why
don’t you tell me how you feel,” she whispered.
“I love you my darling,” I started. “I feel so lucky to
have found you. I’m so turned on. I just want to push
myself inside you. I love expressing how much I love
you by serving you in any way you wish.”
I began to tell her I would do anything if she would
let me come inside her gently pushing in and out the
head of my swollen member. Her breathing increased. I
felt out of control as I pushed further inside her
coaxed on by her breathing. Clearly the ropes were
touching her pussy but she didn’t seem to mind. It was
all I could do to prevent myself from coming.
After a few minutes of this she interrupted me and
asked gently, “What did I ask you to do about moving?”
The blood drained from my face. “You asked me not to
move or touch you with my ropes,” I admitted.
“But while you’re telling me you would do anything for
my favors you disobeyed me on both counts. What am I to
do with you?” she smiled wickedly. “I think you need
some time to meditate on your disobedience.” She
reached over to pick up a three foot long pole with
large eyelets at either end. “Do not speak until I give
explicit permission. Do you understand?”
I nodded yes as best I could in the collar. She then
removed the chain which ran between my ankles and
locked one end of the pole and my ankles together.
After having me kneel up off the backs of my legs she
attached the other end to one of locks on my high
collar. I could barely move. She also attached another
chain to my bounds hands and pulled them up high in my
back attaching the other end to the collar I pleaded
with my eyes but she ignored me smiling at my
predicament.
She pulled her skirt up exposing her sweet pussy again
and fondled herself while looking me over. “Your prick
certainly does get you in a lot of trouble” she
commented nestling her fingers inside her gentle
rubbing her love button. “No use having your trouble
interrupt my pleasure.”
Her breathing became hard now. With her lubricated hand
she brushed the tip of my prick. I squirmed begging
with my eyes for release. “You a quite the sexy sight.”
Her body was rising now as she confided, “I’m very
close lover.”
I fought helplessly against the pole and the chains.
Her eyes gleamed as the first wave hit her. “Oh God I
love you.” Her face flushed but she kept her eyes open
as her body shuttered. Looking directly into my eyes
she calmly stated, “I’m coming right now.” Her hand was
wet.
After a few moments her body went limp and she leaned
back into the sofa. I was lost with desire. After a few
minutes she sat up. “Christ that was great. I’ll bet
you’re wishing you had a little more self control.”
She got up and went to the kitchen returning with
another glass of wine. “Ok sweetheart I want you over
there in the corner. Move it.” She picked up her whip.
I could barely move yet I began to turn around and
inching my knees forward move in the direction where
she had pointed to.
What was she doing?
Without warning she struck me from behind. I yelped but
somehow managed to move faster. My knees were hurting.
I tried to look back at her but I couldn’t with that
damn collar on. She struck again. Christ ok I thought
to myself, I’m moving as fast as I can. She brought
over a pillow and dropped on the floor in the corner of
the room as a pad for my knees.
“Face the corner, darling. I want you to meditate on
obedience. You have to learn that when you’re in my
collar you will obey me completely. You are to remain
quiet without squirming here until I say different.”
My knees were burning. “You may answer me now.”
I faced the corner. “Thank you Princess… Couldn’t I
just say I’m sorry?”
“Well. Are you?”
“Oh God yes. I am very sorry. I am sorry that I
couldn’t control my desire for you. It wasn’t
deliberate disobedience I promise you. Oh Please
Princess I was just so excited I really couldn’t help
myself.”
“Well we’ll see if that something we can’t correct.
Maybe you can learn to control yourself. Why don’t you
think on that while you’re here in the corner? That was
very exciting for me. Are you still excited?”
“Oh Yes Princess I am.”
“Too bad. I’m finished with you for now. Maybe later if
you’re good.”
“Oh come on.”
“I’m now bored with your protests.”
“Yes Princess. How long Princess?”
“We’ll see.”
She turned on the TV. I stared at the wall. She watched
a couple of sitcoms then the some nature show on
channel 2. For while I didn’t know what she was doing.
Then I could hear she was reading a book. Come on I’ve
been good, I thought to myself. After a few minutes I
passed the time counting the pages. When I’m bound for
a long period of time I make up little mind games to
pass the time. However these thoughts are interrupted
by my remembering the situation I’m in which, even
while suffering, never fails to make me hard.
I counted 41 page flips before I heard her stand up and
go upstairs. My knees were killing me even with the
pillow and my back was aching from my being forced into
this unnatural posture. And my shoulder and neck were
sore from the collar and the strain of having my arms
pulled high up my back. Still I was incredibly turned
on. I was at her complete mercy. I knew that if I spoke
I would only get it worse. I was not allowed to move.
She came back downstairs, did something in the kitchen
and then returned to her book.
How long did she think I could stand this? Another 10
page flips. “Turn around,” she ordered. I did. “My
goodness you’re still hard. You never cease to amaze
me. I must say you’re very easy to please. Do you think
you can do better now at doing exactly as I tell you.”
“Yes Princess,” My voice was shaking.
“I think you can too,” she cooed. “In a moment I’m
going to let you go. You’ll put your chains away and go
upstairs and wash yourself meticulously. Then I want
you to get ready for bed. You have a big day tomorrow.
The floors need waxing and its time to clean the oven
again. All my shoes need polishing and there’s a ton of
laundry. Don’t forget to do my underwear by hand this
time.”
“No Princess. I won’t forget.”
“You’ll need your rest. I want you in night collar and
cuffs. Ankles too. Leave the key on the night table.
Understand?”
“Yes Princess.” I was on the edge on tears.
“Night collar and cuffs,” means I lock a relatively
thin collar with 6 inch connecting chains to cuffs
locked around my wrists. My wife likes to be sure I
don’t touch myself at night while allowing me the
possibility of sleep. She says it keeps me motivated.
She then came over to me and unlocked my hands. She
handed me the key. I did exactly as I was told. You may
wonder why.
I have to tell you that I feel very loved when my wife
indulges my unusual needs and it excites me even more
knowing that she gets something from it. I was very
tired and was sound asleep when she came to bed.