 |
|||
|
|
CH 52
A couple of years later I bumped into MAC. I had avoided him because I was afraid of what might happen if I saw him. My fears proved correct.
I was shopping in downtown Denver, turned a corner and literally bounced off his chest. He looked at me in astonishment then grabbed me into the tightest hug I’d ever experienced. He held me close for several minutes and I was so happy to see him that I cried. We didn’t care about strangers watching, all that mattered was that I was with my dear friend.
MAC released me and apologized. He was embarrassed and told me that he forgot for a moment that I was married to another man. I told him that I’d forgotten too, while I was in his arms. I joked about the tight hug.
“I thought you were going to squeeze all the air out of my breasts,” I said.
“There’s no air in them,” he replied, “Just all woman.”
It felt wonderful to be complimented again.
We went to a coffee shop and talked for hours. I told MAC about all my problems. He instantly offered to help me with money. I declined his offer but it gave my heart a warm glow. It was nice to have someone so strong and secure to listen to me. And MAC was still just as handsome and attractive to me. I ached to be in his arms, and in his ropes. I even lost my reserve and told him so. He smiled and told me that he had missed me too.
I asked if he had found someone new to tie up.
“No,” he said simply. “I don’t want anyone else.”
His answer pleased me very much. I came very close to offering myself to him right then and there. He sensed what I was about to say and shook his head.
“Don’t make a mistake because things are tough,” he warned me. “You and your husband must work through your problems.”
I nodded. He was right, but I needed him very much.
“I won’t let you tie me up,” I said. “But I would dearly love to talk to you from time to time. Could we do that?”
“Of course,” he smiled.
“I would be very selfish of me,” I said. “And unfair to you, but I would just like to see you for lunch once in a while, and maybe talk on the phone.”
“How would that be unfair?” he asked.
“I would get the benefit of your company,” I answered. “But you wouldn’t be getting any sex from me.”
“I’ll manage to survive,” he smiled, “Besides, I like your company too.”
MAC and I began talking on the phone and getting together for lunch. I was strong and didn’t let myself give in to temptation, at least for a long time. But one day . . .
I’d called MAC in tears. My husband had been a total bastard for days and I was at my wit’s end. Brad left for an over the road trip and I cried for hours. Finally I called MAC and poured my troubles out to him. He listened until I was drained then he gave me an order.
“Take all your clothes off.”
“What?”
“Undress,” he said sternly. “I want you naked.”
My pussy began to throb. “What do you want me to do?” I asked.
“Strip naked.” he commanded.
I set the phone down and obeyed. When I’d taken off my clothes I felt very sexy. “All right,” I whispered. “I’m naked.”
“Find some rope,” he ordered. “Anything to tie your legs with.”
“Yes master.” That came so naturally to my lips.
I tied my ankles together with the belt from my bathrobe. The throbbing between my legs increased.
“All right, my ankles are tied,” I said. “Shall I tie my wrists?”
“No, not this time. Hold the phone in your left hand, and touch your pussy with your right.”
Oh, God!
I did as he said.
“Imagine that the hand in your pussy is mine,” MAC said. “And make yourself cum. I want to listen to you.”
I came within a few minutes. It was terrific!
When my breathing was back to normal I spoke to him.
“Thank you master.”
“Do it again.”
MAC ordered me to cum several times that day. And I did as he commanded. I had three orgasms.
After we hung up, I cried for happiness, then took a long hot bath and calmed down, partly from the sex and partly from having Mac’s friendship. If only I could give him something in return.
After that MAC and I had telephone sex almost weekly. He gave me a device that permitted me to attach a headset to the phone so I could talk to him with both hands bound. Sometimes he gave me orders on where and how to touch myself, other times he made me tie myself very tightly then listen as he told me in great and very erotic detail what he would do to my body. I actually had orgasms just from listening to his voice. I wasn’t sure if what we did constituted infidelity on my part or not, but I didn’t care.
After the marriage I’d put all my bondage things in storage at Mom’s house. On a visit to the farm I dug through the boxes and found the chastity belt that Dale made for me. I selected a few other things, then put the rest away.
I undressed and put new batteries in the belt, then locked myself into the belt and set the timer to go off at random. Mom walked in as I was finishing up. Her eyebrows rose but she didn’t say anything.
“Are you planning to drive to Denver like that?” she asked.
“No, I thought I’d put some clothes on,” I replied.
“I meant, are you going to wear the belt?” she said wryly.
“All the way home,” I said. “And I might take the long way too.”
“What, by way of Kansas City?”
(Kansas City is eight hundred miles in the opposite direction.)
“You know, if I didn’t have to pick up the baby, I just might do that,” I told her. “Imagine riding all that way and back with this thing buzzing between your legs. Want to go along?”
Mom got a far away look on her face, then she blushed.
“What do you say, shall we plan a road trip sometime?” I asked. “We’ll see what lasts the longest, the batteries or our pussies.”
Mom blushed and ran out of the room.
I’d planned to wear my jeans on the drive back, but wearing the belt made me feel so sexy that I decided to wear a skirt instead. I found an old one in my clothes closet but it was too long, so I took a pair of scissors to it and cut it so short that my chastity belt almost was visible. I didn’t bother to take the time to hem the skirt, I just left it ragged. I slipped on a very tight tank top with no bra, and a pair of sneakers.
When I got downstairs I lifted my skirt. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that somebody has been using this thing,” I joked to Mom. I was kidding, but burst out laughing at the guilty look on her face.
“Would you like me to leave it here?” I asked. I started to take it off. Mom blushed and ran back upstairs.
“I’m leaving,” I shouted up to her. “Shall I come up and tie you to the bed, or anything before I go?”
“No thank you,” she answered.
“What? No bondage date with your boss?” I asked.
“No, he’s not coming tonight.”
“Well, then who is?”
“Mary will you just get out of here.”
I giggled and went to my car. I locked the key to the chastity belt in the trunk and vowed not to take the belt off until I got home. I kicked off my shoes and yanked my skirt up to my waist, then started the ignition.
It’s a five hour drive to Denver and I was hot every minute of the way. The timer on the belt kicked on before I left the driveway and I began flashing truck drivers as soon as I was out of town. All along the way the vibrator in the belt did its job of driving me wild.
I stopped several times at truck stops and country stores just to show off in front of people. I’d stroll around the store pretending to shop and attracting as much attention from men as possible, then I would buy a soft drink and leave. I reveled in my secret bondage and a couple of times the vibrator kicked on while I was near other people.
Once while I was paying the woman behind the counter saw the startled look on my face. She seemed to know what was going on, because she gave me a knowing look and asked if I needed any batteries. I was trying very hard not to have an orgasm and all I could do was shake my head.
Even though I didn’t want to take the belt off, all those sodas made it necessary to go to the restroom. After several hours I just had to stop and take the belt off for a few minutes. I drove into truck stop, opened the trunk of my car and bent over to get the key. A couple of farmers were talking beside a tractor and they got an eyeful, I can tell you. I knew that were looking up my skirt, so I took my time and dug a slave collar out of the bag too. I straightened up and buckled the collar on my neck. Their eyes were huge as I walked past them.
In the restroom I barely got the belt unlocked in time, then I masturbated before I put it back on, and even though the belt had made me come several times already, that one was delightful. My pussy was very sensitive and I squeaked a few times just getting the belt locked in place. My face was bright pink and my nipples were pushing against my top when I walked out.
The farmers were still watching when I went to my car. So was a state patrolman. He was sitting in his car and watched me carefully. I thought he was interested in me sexually until it occurred that he suspected me of being a truck stop prostitute. I laughed to myself as he followed me out onto the freeway and tailed me for about twenty miles. I pulled my skirt up and tugged my tank top down and hooked it under my breasts. I considered driving over the speed limit just to give him an excuse to stop me. I would give him a real eyeful when he came to the window. I considered what it would take to get him to arrest me and fantasized about another ride in a police car in handcuffs. I wondered if I would get to enjoy another sexy episode in a jail, but I remembered that I had to pick up my daughter, so I behaved myself.
I drove to the house when I got back to town. I took off the short skirt and collar, then slipped into a pair of slacks and picked up my little girl from the baby sitter, but I kept the chastity belt on when I got home.
Brad arrived a few hours later and I still didn’t take the belt off. I even wore it to bed that night and he didn’t notice.
I liked the feel of the metal between my legs, holding my pussy firmly imprisoned, but I also wore it as a symbol of defiance to my husband.
I showed the belt to MAC and he approved entirely. I met him for lunch and waited for him outside the restaurant. I invited him to pat me on the bottom as we walked in the door. We sat side by side in a booth and I raised my skirt to give him a look. He grinned from ear to ear as I told him in naughty detail what the belt’s vibrator was doing to me while we ate. The next time we met he gave me some wicked nipple clamps, which I wore under my clothes.
I became more daring about self bondage and tied myself in every room in the house. I hung by my wrists in the garage, tied myself in a strict hogtie on the kitchen table, on the floor, and in the back yard in broad daylight. On morning I chatted with the neighbor across the fence while my hands were cuffed behind my back. She was digging in her flower bed and never noticed a thing. And it was nothing to tie myself to a chair and watch TV all afternoon.
Many times I waited until I heard Brad’s car in the driveway before untying myself, and on one occasion I was just able to get the last button on my dress done as he walked in the room.
Brad stopped taking care of himself. He stopped exercising and grew flabby. He didn’t take care of his grooming and became very unkempt. I decided that no matter what, I would never let myself go that way, so I joined a workout class at the rec center.
The class instructor was cute and very sober young man who was dedicated to teaching the whole world the value of physical fitness. He was oblivious to the fact that his class of women were eyeing his firm young body from the very first day. He led us in jogging, sit ups, weight training and aerobics and never seemed to notice our jiggling boobs and wide open legs.
(One time I wore a chastity belt to the center and realized that I couldn’t take it off. I’d forgotten the key, so I had to join my class with the thing under my shorts. Jogging for a mile on the indoor track was both torture and delightful, so was using the stair stepper, but only twenty sit ups were enough to send me into a terrific orgasm. When I collapsed the instructor thought I was having a heart attack. It was only when I began giggling that he was convinced not to call an ambulance. I told him that I’d taken some cold medicine before class and it made me a little woozy for a few minutes.)
After that I began jogging around the neighbor hood wearing pussy ropes or chastity belts. My eyes were usually bright and my cheeks were pink when I got home. I also invented bondage sit ups.
(Put a tight pussy rope between your legs, or a chastity belt. Put nipple clamps on, tie your ankles and knees together and tie your wrists behind your back. Then do sit ups until you reach a hundred or an orgasm, which ever comes first. Guaranteed to flatten that tummy and firm up your butt.)
MAC loves to listen to me do sit ups over the phone.
One day Mary dropped by while I was tied up. I managed to untie myself, slip into a robe and open the door. She didn’t seem to notice anything and we chatted over a pot of tea, however as she was leaving she grabbed my hand, looked at the deep rope marks on my wrists and shook her head knowingly.
Brad got another job driving trucks, then was arrested for drunk driving and lost his license. A buddy took him to South Dakota and bought a false identity card, which allowed him to get a license.
I was troubled by my husband’s dishonesty, but on the other hand, we needed his income, and anyway, driving got him out of the house for weeks at a time.
He settled down, for a while, and tried to do right. He drove for months without creating any problems, and we got along a little better.
Brad was full of big talk about buying his own truck and becoming an independent driver, maybe some day owning a string of trucks. I even accompanied him to a truck show one weekend.
I must admit that I was impressed by some of the trucks we saw. Some of them were huge and their sleeping compartments were small rooms, with large beds, refrigerators, stoves and televisions. They looked comfortable, even luxurious, and they cost hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Brad got enthusiastic at the truck show and talked about us becoming a husband and wife team and going on the road together. I just nodded and didn’t bother to remind him that we had a child. And secretly I vowed never to give up my permanent job for some idiotic pipe dream, besides I didn’t want to be a truck driver.
However, I did notice a row of hooks along the wall of one of the huge sleeping compartments and instantly imagined myself hanging by my wrists (just not with Brad driving).
One day I dropped him off at the trucking company. I sat in the car and watched the trucks coming and going and I noticed a husband and wife teaming getting into a truck. The man was ordinary looking, about forty and his wife was the same. I fantasized about him tying her naked in the sleeping compartment before they even left the lot.
One other big truck caught my eye. The tractor was oversized with a huge sleeping compartment behind the cab. I was reminded of the luxurious trucks I’d seen at the show.
The paint was shiny and the truck was immaculately clean. The driver was tying a big tarpaulin over the load and I watched as he pulled the ropes tight. He was big and muscular and tugged the ropes with powerful arms, and he tied the knots quickly and expertly. I wondered if he was as good at tying women. The man glanced at me and did a double take. I blushed when I recognized him as one of the men who had been at the auction party orgy where I met Dianne!
The man stared until I raised my eyebrows indignantly. I looked at him as if I wondered why he was staring so rudely, and he looked away. Brad came out of the office and I took him to his truck. He hopped in and started the motor and I drove away. I passed the man tying knots. He looked at me again, very intently. I ignored him, but my pussy was throbbing.
I couldn’t remember exactly what that man had done to me at the party, only that he must have whipped me and screwed me and probably made me suck his cock. All of the men at the party had been terrifically cruel and the memory of that wonderful night set me on fire. What ever that man had done to me, I wanted him to do it again. I almost turned around and went to him.
As I drove home I wondered what it would be like to be a truck driver’s slave. At the house I undressed, tied myself to the bed and fantasized about hanging naked by my wrists, or being in an excruciating hogtie in the sleeper compartment as we drove mile after mile, hour after hour, day after day. I imagined that that driver would stop from time to time and screw me silly, then go on again. I wondered if there would be room for me to kneel between his feet and suck his cock as he drove. I hoped he had enough self control not to wreck the truck every time I made him spurt into my mouth.
I imagined that as we drove I couldn’t see outside. I had no idea where we were, or even what part of the country we might be in. Sometimes I’d be blindfolded so I didn’t know if it was day or night, I just rode and rode in my bonds. I would be naked and bound and that was all that mattered.
I drifted into a sort of doze and saw my truck arriving at a truck stop for the night, and having my master take me out and walk me naked to the motel through the busy parking lot. The other drivers would be envious and perhaps he’d tie me to the bed and rent me out to the others. Or maybe he would just make me kneel in the parking lot and open my mouth for all those strangers.
My dream shifted into me being part of a cargo of slave girls hanging by our wrists inside the trailer of a large semi. We swayed as the truck rolled along and at every stop a few girls were taken out and delivered to their new masters and new girls were loaded aboard. At each weigh station the inspectors would board the trailer and check the cargo by squeezing our breasts and bottoms and fingering a few sample pussies, then the truck would roll again and off we would go. I spent my time wondering who I would be delivered to, and what they would do to me.
Then I imagined a trailer converted into a rolling torture chamber. We slaves would be locked into tiny cramped cells, and when the truck stopped in some small out of the way town, the driver would open the back door and hang us by our wrists to let the locals look us over. Then the bidding would start.
At one stop the back door opened and a new naked woman was loaded aboard. It was Mom. I saw Mom’s boss signing her over and a caught a glimpse of our farm just before they closed the door. Mom smiled happily at me and curled up in her cell.
My truck fantasy became so involved that I developed a truck fetish. I couldn’t even see a truck on the street without getting moist between my legs. I even drove down to Brad’s company when he was away, just hoping to see the man with the fancy rig again. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d seen him, but luckily he was never there.
My phone sex affair with MAC kept me from losing my mind. Self bondage and self torture at his command was the only stable thing in my life. One day we were meeting for lunch. When he arrived at the restaurant I handed him a key.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“It’s a hotel room around the corner,” I said.
He looked at me with a combination of happiness and distress.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
“There is a bag full of ropes in the room,” I said. “And I brought nipple clamps, a slave collar and several whips.”
“How long do we have?”
“As long as you want,” I said. “My husband is out of town and Denise watching the baby and she can keep her all night if necessary.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t stay all night,” he said. “But I can stay until this evening.”
I took him to the hotel. Inside the room he watched as I undressed slowly and seductively. When I was naked I put the slave collar in my mouth, got on my hands and knees and crawled to him. I knelt in front of him, sat up with my hands up like doggy paws. MAC took the collar from my mouth and buckled it around my neck, then he kissed me so sweetly that I wanted to melt into oblivion.
I had been so starved for affection and sex, that I begged MAC to simply tie me to the bed and screw me senseless. He did just that. He placed a pillow under my hips and tied me into a wonderful tight spread eagle. As tight as it was I pleaded for him to tie me tighter. He tugged hard on the ropes and I had a sweet orgasm as he was tying me. When he had my arms and legs as tight as bowstrings he climbed onto me, thrust his cock inside and made wonderful love to me. I thought I was in heaven and I screamed in ecstasy. After all those years of silent orgasms beside my husband it was a relief to be able to voice my passion. I felt like a woman again.
After my first few orgasms, he gave me time to recover, then he whipped my pussy until I came again.
MAC didn’t change my position at all. He whipped me, bit my nipples and screwed me all afternoon. When he released me I crawled into his arms and cried with happiness.
I must have made a lot of noise because as I was leaving, the door of the next room opened and man peered out at me. I gave him my most dazzling smile and swirled my skirt as I blew a kiss to MAC.
As to my husband, I felt not one iota of guilt. MAC and I resumed our love affair and began meeting for sex at least once a week. We still do.
CH 53
At home the money problems got worse. Brad couldn’t hold up his end and I was desperate. Despite the fact that we were broke he was going hunting with his brothers for a week in Montana. I called Mary at the store.
“Hey kid! How’s married life?”
“I want you to sell me to somebody for a session,” I told her. “And make sure you get a good price.”
There was a long pause. “What’s going on?”
“We’re broke and about to lose the house,” I answered. “I need to earn some money.”
“I think we need to talk,” she said. “Are you free for lunch?”
I met Mary and Denise for lunch. I told them about all my marital troubles and asked if they could arrange for me to make some money. They exchanged glances.
“We are not going to help you turn yourself into a prostitute,” Denise told me.
“I don’t know what else to do,” I said sadly. “I can’t ask my mother for any more money.”
“What about us,” Mary said. “We’re your friends. We can help.”
“I know you would,” I replied. “But I don’t want to be in debt to anyone else. I owe too much already.”
“Better to owe a friend, than to degrade yourself.” Mary told me.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “I used to be good at enduring degradation. It turns me on.”
“Its not the same thing, and you know it,” Denise said.
“I appreciate your offers, and your concerns,” I told them. “But I’m at my wit’s end and I have got to make a house payment within a week.”
They were quiet for a while. Finally Denise spoke.
“All right, we’ll see what we can do. When and how long are you available?”
“All week,” I said. “I’ve got plenty of vacation on the books. My husband is off hunting and I can take the baby to my Mom.”
“You’re broke and your husband went hunting?” Mary demanded.
“Yes.”
“You know, I think I’d like to tie your husband up sometime,” she said conversationally.
“What?”
“Um hmm, and when I finished whipping that son of a bitch, he would never walk again.”
From the look in her eyes, I knew she wasn’t joking.
“Ok, we’ll set something up and call you.”
“Any chance you could set me up with a kinky truck driver?” I joked after the tension relaxed.
“What do you mean?”
I told them about my trucking fantasies. They were both squirming in their seats by the time I finished.
“I have to hand it to you,” Denise said. “You have a hell of an imagination.”
“Yeah,” Mary added fanning her face.
“Have you ever heard of any traveling dungeons?” I asked.
“No, but there are mobile bordellos,” Mary answered. “Usually up in Alaska and the back country of Canada.”
“Maybe we should lease a truck and drive up there,” I suggested. “You two could drive and collect the money and I’ll be the slave girl.”
They thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Ok, deal.”
“And can my mom come along too?”
“As a slave?”
“Of course.”
“Sure she can, but who’s going to watch the baby?”
“Actually there is a pretty good bondage parlor just across from a big truck stop in Nebraska,” Denise commented as we were walking out, “Pretty good one too, from what I hear.”
Mary nodded. “They cater to the kinky truck drivers. Maybe you could get a job there.”
“Sure, I could have Brad drop me off on his way to the East coast, then swing by and pick me up after a few weeks.”
“Yep.”
|
|
|