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CH 49
Other than that, things began to go slightly flat in my life. I continued to have sex with Bob and wonderful bondage with MAC but I began to feel a need for more stability in my life. Perhaps I was growing up.
I met a nice man at my new job. His name was Brad and he was a decent gentle man with clear eyes and a direct and honest demeanor. He asked me out and we began dating.
I didn’t wish to deceive him but I also didn’t want to advertise my lifestyle, so I conducted myself as a nice girl. I didn’t allow him to kiss me until our third date.
I wasn’t trying to lie to Brad; I was trying to be what I thought he wanted me to be. I wanted him to like me and I planned to tell him about my past if we ever got serious. Unlike all the other men in my life, I wanted Brad for more than just sex. He was sweet and sincere and brought me flowers and candy and behaved like a perfect gentleman.
After dating for a couple of months I allowed him to seduce me. We made love like an ordinary couple and I forced myself to like it, although it felt odd to have sex without ropes on my wrists.
Brad was a nice lover. He was good in bed and considerate of my feelings; he just wasn’t domineering enough. Over the months I slowly and carefully steered him into tying me. I pretended to be shyly curious about bondage and asked if he’d ever tied a girl up. He said that he hadn’t but he would be willing to do it for me. I invited him over and had a handful of ropes ready. I kept up my act of shy curiosity but put on a nice girl strip tease for him. I got him so turned on that he wanted to forget the ropes and make love right there, but I reminded him that we were testing something new. I lay back on the bed and talked him through tying my wrists and ankles apart. He was tentative and didn’t want to hurt me so his knots were too loose. I pretended they were ok, but wiggled around until they ‘accidentally’ came off. He tied me tighter and I bravely encouraged him to make them really tight. What I wanted was for him to tug those ropes so tight that I would lose feeling in my hands, but I had settle for simple snug knots. When he finished I was breathing hard and I was very excited. So was he and he climbed right on me and screwed me into a delightful orgasm.
He liked having sex with me in ropes and I pretended that all my nice girl inhibitions were removed as soon as I was bound. I ‘went wild’ and we had terrific sex. Afterwards I pretended to be embarrassed by my lack of modesty but he held me close and reassured me that it was all right. I begged him not to lose respect for me, then whispered that we might do it again sometime.
We alternated normal sex with bondage and he grew better at tying me. He gained confidence, especially when I told him how thrilled I was at his manly strength and forcefulness.
About the fifth time he tied me I manipulated him so that he spanked me, and surprise, surprise, that turned me on too! Brad liked it and screwed me violently. He was great and I enjoyed a terrific orgasm. I screamed and moaned so much that he thought he’d hurt me and apologized for being so rough. I stooped his apology by grabbing him and pulling his body down onto mine. He screwed me again, then part way through, picked me up and put me over his lap and spanked me again. I was very close to having another orgasm and begged him to screw me again.
Later I shyly apologized for liking it rough and told him I was so awed by his strength that I couldn’t help myself. He spanked me again for the third time that evening.
Later when we were cuddling I told him that I had always fantasized about being taken by a real man, like a pirate who would enslave me, or a cruel sultan who would make me a harem slave, but had never met anyone who I felt that I could reveal this to. Brad liked my fantasies and we began acting them out. I even made a very revealing harem girl costume and met him at my door wearing it with chains.
He began tying me more often.
I resisted the temptation to have bondage sex every time we were together and let him take the lead. I was thrilled when he tied me on my knees one evening and commanded me to suck his cock. I pretended to be inexperienced but willing to do anything to please him, and despite my ‘amateurish’ effort, he came in my mouth. Afterwards Brad was embarrassed, having forced me to do something dirty, and was on the verge of apologizing but I pretended to be very excited and confessed to him that I’d always dreamt of being made to do that by a strong, forceful man. He was pleasantly surprised when I shyly asked if he would make me do it again. After the second time I told him that I truly was his slave girl and I would do anything he wanted.
His spankings became harder and more exciting and I began to have orgasms under his hand, real orgasms, without pretending. The first time I came so hard that I fell off his lap. I lay at his feet in a delirious delight, and as soon as I came back to earth I scrambled up, threw myself across his legs and begged him to do it again. Brad was quite proud of himself and spanked me and made fantastic love to me all night long. After that I got spanked hard enough to really enjoy it.
I began to hope that eventually I would be able to train him to torture me beyond spankings, although I knew I’d have to be patient. I knew that it might take some time before he would use a whip on me.
One evening I tied myself up and waited for him. I made my bonds look amateurish but when he came in, he took one look, tore off his clothes and made wonderful love to me. I told him that I’d tied myself up because I was really starting to like the things he did to me and I hinted that I wouldn’t mind if he got a teensy bit rougher. He spanked me harder and since I was in a spread open position he spanked my pussy, which sent me into ecstasy (for real, I wasn’t pretending). After I settled down I begged him to screw me and talked dirty to him while he did. Then, before the evening was over I got him to whip me with his belt.
He was hesitant and I had to settle for a few mild strokes across my bottom but within a few weeks I managed to get him to give me a light whipping across my breasts. I loved it but saw that Brad seemed reluctant to whip me there so I eased off. I did get him so excited one afternoon that he whipped my pussy with the belt. I begged for more and he made me come. My gyrations on the bed got him so excited that he was fucking me before I was able to think clearly. That was a very wonderful time. Unfortunately the belt left welts on my thighs and tummy and Bred felt terrible for harming me. He didn’t want to have any more kinky sex for fear of permanently injuring me. It took a lot of gentle prodding on my part to make him understand that I really did like what he’d done and that I didn’t mind wearing his marks, in fact, I confessed to him that I was secretly proud of wearing them on my body, it made me feel like I truly belonged to him. I called him every day for a week and told him how sexy I felt each time I saw his marks between my legs.
Brad regretted losing his self control and wouldn’t do anything kinky for a long time. I had to be patient and restrain myself from asking too much,
He didn’t understand that I was a serious masochist, and I should have realized that I was deluding myself about him. I wanted to make him into a strong dominant man like MAC and I was and naïve enough to believe that I could change a man’s character.
I tried to be faithful to Brad but there were days when I simply needed to be tortured, so I would meet with MAC or arrange for Bob to drop by my apartment.
One afternoon I tied myself into a very tight hogtie. I wasn’t expecting anyone and was simply enjoying being tightly bound when Brad showed up. I hadn’t locked my door and he let himself in. He was astonished to see me in bondage and thought that someone else must have tied me. (He wasn’t jealous; he just thought that a burglar had done it to me). I convinced him that no one else had been there, but that I’d been thinking erotic thoughts about him and tied myself, but somehow I’d overdone it and couldn’t get loose. I was sooo glad that he came by to rescue me and suggested that he ought not to pass up the opportunity. I rolled onto my side and offered myself to him. He played with my body for an hour before he untied my legs and pulled them open. We made terrific love that evening.
Bob found out that I was seeing Brad by walking in while Brad was screwing me. I was tied to my bed and Brad was on top of me when the door opened and Bob looked in. His mouth dropped open in a look of pure dismay and I had to struggle not to laugh. Then I glared at him over Brad’s shoulder and jerked my head for him to leave. Bob got over his astonishment and leaned against the door jamb with a smirk on his face. I hate to confess it, but that was a terrific turn on for me, and I had an orgasm. That sent Brad into one and I locked eyes with Bob while Brad spurted into me. Bob grinned and left and Brad never realized that he’d been performing for an audience.
Bob and I had a short but heated argument the next day. He stopped me in the parking lot and accused me of cheating on him. I reminded him that he was not only a married man, cheating on his wife, but that he was screwing a dozen other women in the complex, so he’d better cool his jets. He backed down.
I took Brad home to Mom and she liked him, but she warned that I ought to be aware that gentle men weren’t always gentle.
“I’m not looking for gentle,” I laughed. “I’m looking for a slave master.”
“Do you think he is a master?” she asked. “Brad is exactly the sort of decent man that most women want to marry, and if you have to manipulate him into dominating you then he probably isn’t the man you need.”
“He’s the man I want,” I said stubbornly.
“But does he truly understand what you are and what you want?”
“He’s getting better,” I said. “He is starting to dominate me more and more.”
“Then bring him out here and let him watch you scream your lungs out when the weight slams you tight on the rack,” she said “How will he react to finding out that his mother in law is also a masochist? Should we let him see us hanging from the loft crane together?”
Despite myself, my pussy flashed white hot when she said that.
“If he doesn’t understand your needs then he isn’t the right man and you shouldn’t string him on any longer.”
I didn’t listen.
Dianne took one look at Brad and shook her head. “He isn’t right for you,” she told me. “I made the mistake of marrying men who I thought would understand me, and I was wrong, don’t you do the same thing.”
“Mom thinks I ought to let him watch me torture myself in the loft,” I told her half jokingly.
“No, that’s not enough,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Take him to a bondage orgy and let him watch while you’re tortured and screwed by a dozen men,” she said. “And let him look at you while you’re tied with your face between another woman’s legs. If he can accept that then he might just be ok for you, otherwise you are deluding yourself.”
“He might,” I said defensively. “It may take a while for him to understand, but he might allow me to do it.”
“Do you think he will accept seeing you come home with cum caked in your hair and fresh whip marks on your body?” she asked cruelly. “How’s this for a dinner table conversation: ‘Hi Hon, how was your day at the office?’ ‘Oh, the usual, how was your night at the dungeon?’
“Oh, for God’s sake,” I laughed.
“And what if he decides to participate? How will you feel when you and I are tied side by side and your Brad is fucking me while some other guy fucks you?”
“I’m not doing orgies any more,” I told her. “I’ll be faithful to him. I just want him to dominate me at home.”
“You dream about being a housewife during the day, cleaning and cooking for your man, then being his slave at night in the basement dungeon,” she said.
“Exactly.”
“Well, face it, you are a born slave, but he is not a natural master, and even if he goes along, it might be fine for a few years,” she said. “But someday, sooner or later, you’ll have the urge to kick loose and have a wild session of ropes and whips and other people, and then you’ll have to sneak away and deceive him. Remember the plump little church wife from the first orgy we had together? The one you were so taken with?”
I nodded.
“She cheated on her husband,” Dianne said ruthlessly. “And I doubt if one time was enough to satisfy her. She’s probably in some man’s basement right this minute hanging by her wrists and getting her breasts whipped while her husband sits at home writing his sermons.”
I should have listened.
After a year of dating Brad asked me to marry him and I accepted. I vowed to myself that I would be the best wife ever and if that meant turning my back on all my previous activities so be it.
I told all my friends that I was getting married and leaving the scene.
Lord and Lady L were delighted for me and as gracious as ever, told me that their home was always open to me.
Mary and Denise hugged me with delight but warned me that I would only last four or five years before I’d want to return to my wicked kinky ways.
“No way,” I answered. “I’m going to be a faithful wife, and hopefully a good mother.”
“I’m a good wife and mother,” Denise said. “And I still manage to be the cruelest dominatrix in Colorado.”
“Second cruelest,” Mary said.
“Well I’m not a dominatrix,” I said. “If I stayed in the scene I’d have to submit to other people and that would be cheating on my husband.”
“Five years,” Mary said, not unkindly. Denise nodded.
The toughest parting was when I told MAC. He accepted the news quietly like a gentleman, but I could see the sorrow in his eyes. I felt a terrible stab of pain in my heart when I saw how much I had hurt him. If only he wasn’t married. If only I could be his wife, or at least his full time slave.
Jill was absolutely delighted that I was finally going to settle down.
Before I married Brad we sat down and I told him about my lifestyle. I didn’t go into too much detail and made it sound less intense than it really had been. I didn’t tell him of my self-bondage or Mom’s participation and I made no mention of my night at the police station nor my activities at bondage orgies. I slanted my story to make it sound like I had simply been tied up by my previous boyfriend. When Brad pressed me for details I told him about the things I did at the mall but I again made it sound like that had only happened once or twice. He thought it over for a long time, then took my hands and told me firmly that if I liked to be tied up then he would do it for me, but only him. I couldn’t let anyone else dominate me ever again. I got on my knees at his feet and swore that I’d never submit to anyone but him, then I burst into tears and hugged him close.
We had the wedding at the farm and Mom pulled out all the stops. We held the ceremony on the porch and the reception on the lawn. The ceremony was wonderful, the weather was perfect and I was very happy.
We invited over two hundred guests, many friends and relations from town as well as others from Denver.
Mary and Denise showed impeccably dressed and looking dignified and matronly, and they attracted a lot of admiring looks from the men. Denise gave me a hug and whispered to me that they were wearing leather corsets under their dresses, and no panties.
Dianne came with them, looking like a movie star and attracted a whole lot of admiring looks. I saw one or two wives jab their husbands with their elbows to get them to close their mouths. Dianne conducted herself impeccably around the married men, but nevertheless, heads followed her as she walked around the lawn. She had tears in her eyes when she hugged me. I later learned that she was crying from sympathy, knowing that I was making a mistake, but she didn’t say anything. She was even nice to Brad.
Mom’s boss from the bank was there and he drew an admiring gaze from Dianne.
“Have you changed your mind about sharing him with us?” she asked Mom. “We could sneak away and let him tie us up,” she purred.
“All three of us?” I joked.
“Why not? He looks healthy enough to handle us,” Dianne said.
“He is,” Mom answered. “But not today, I’ll be too busy.”
“And I’m a proper married lady,” I said. “No more orgies for me.”
“Excellent,” Dianne said to Mom, “That gives him more time for the two of us.”
After the wedding Brad and I stood in the reception line for a long time. Everyone else was eating but we were still greeting guests. Denise brought me a cup of punch and whispered in my ear asking if I was wearing a chastity belt under my wedding dress.
“No,” I whispered back. “Brad doesn’t know about such things.”
“Then it’s about time he learned,” she said, “Because Mary and I are giving you one for your wedding present.”
I wasn’t sure that she was kidding, so I slipped away for a moment, found their gift, and opened it in private just to be sure. It was a toaster.
I was putting the gift back when I saw Dianne’s present, so I opened it too. It was a whip. I ran up stairs and hid it in my room.
Later, I saw Mary and Denise off to the side looking over the men. “What are you two cooking up?” I asked.
“Deciding which of the men would make good slaves,” Mary answered. She pointed at two young men across the room. “Those might do the trick, who are they?”
“They are my cousins,” I laughed. “They’re only nineteen and twenty.”
“Have you ever tied them up?” Denise asked.
“No, I don’t tie people up, I get tied, remember?”
“Ok, have they tied you up then?”
“No, my incestuous fantasies only apply to my mother,” I answered. “Besides, my cousins are nice guys and I doubt if they’ve ever heard of kinky sex.”
“Clean cut farm boys eh?” Denise mused, “Perfect for training to the whip.”
“I just love virgin males,” Mary added.
“I’d introduce you to them,” I said. “But see that heavy set lady in the red dress?” I pointed to my aunt.
“She looks pretty tough,” Denise said.
“She is tough, and she’s their mother, so I don’t think you would have much chance to enslave her sons.”
Mary nodded approvingly. “I’ll bet she’s the kind of woman that whips her husband.”
“She looks the type,” Denise agreed. “Let’s go talk to her.”
“Are you going to recruit her?” I asked.
“Why not? We can always use another dom at the store. Does she go to Denver very often?”
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake,” I laughed.
Then it occurred to me that my uncle is a rather soft spoken man, and Aunt Katherine is pretty bossy. I began to wonder if she might not whip him after all. God only knows what goes on at some of these farms after dark.
Also during the reception I noticed Dianne and Jill sitting together. Dianne was doing all the talking and Jill sat with a look of disbelief on her face. Dianne made a striking motion with her arm and I just knew that she was demonstrating a whip stroke. I didn’t have to ask to know that Dianne was probably relating some of our torture escapades in great detail. I started to intervene, when I saw Jill jump up and walk to the refreshment table. I thought she was escaping but she brought back two glasses of punch and stared intently at Dianne when she resumed her tale. Moments later Jill turned in her chair and looked up at the barn and her mouth dropped open when Dianne pointed first at Mom, then at me. I pretended not to see.
Half an hour later I saw them emerge from the barn. Dianne was still talking brightly but Jill had a glassy look in her eyes. She started shaking her head when Dianne pointed up to the crane and made a swinging motion. Jill held her hands up, palms out, clearly saying she’d heard enough. Dianne laughed delightedly and patted her on the bottom as they returned to their table.
I made my way to them. “I thought I told you to behave yourself,” I warned Dianne.
“I haven’t done anything bad,” she protested. “I’ve just been telling Jill about your farm.”
Jill looked at me and shook her head. “I believed her at first,” she said, “But some of her stories are too far out to accept.”
“Which stories?” Dianne asked.
“Well, tying yourselves to the gateposts naked, for one,” Jill said, “And hanging by your wrists from the top of the barn? Come on now.”
I blushed but didn’t say anything. Jill looked at me for a long time, then her eyes widened.
“You didn’t . . ?” she gasped.
I blushed deeper and nodded.
“Both of you?” Jill gasped, “And your mother as well?” She looked across at Mom, who smiled and waved.
“I’d better mingle with the other guests,” I said weakly.
“You know Jill, there’s room for four naked women at the front gate,” I heard Dianne say, as I fled.
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