Bound for a Good Time

A day off for the good girl turns to the naughty girl's day of indulgence.

Male/female – married – self-bondage – gagged – tied – submissive – lingerie

Readers:

Use of zip ties should always be supervised, and limited to no more than 30 minutes of use. But this is my delectable fiction. We use magic zip ties!

-o-o-

Scantily dressed, arms and legs strapped to the chair, my breasts swollen and aching... I watch the doorway, aching for my husband to make his entrance. I marvel at my own behavior, the good girl gone bad...

*******************************************

One nice thing had led to another. A routine doctor's appointment scheduled during a slow week at work. I wondered if I could schedule a long-delayed lunch with a friend. And my nails could benefit from a treatment. With just a few calls, I had created a long-overdue "me-day".

Even good girls deserve a "me-day".

But as it grew closer, I had more disturbing thoughts. Ideas would just pop into my head unaided. I thought about props I had acquired recently. I thought how I would have our house to myself for a few hours. And eventually the naughty girl came out.

Years back, a young man shared with me (in bed) his ideal of a future mate. The perfect woman, he said, is a lady in public, and a whore in the bedroom. That idea has been prominent in my thoughts over the years. As such, I am a proper and dutiful, fun and challenging wife. And, as an added bonus, behind closed doors, I become horny tiger. A sexual animal. I need to say it again: It's an animalistic need. I don't imagine other women get so twisted.

And now I was ready to luxuriate in some delicious self-bondage!

I began planning the mental steps to securing myself, setting myself on display for when he at last got home.

Reminder here that self-bondage takes a lot of pre-planning, so one doesn't get into a dangerous situation. And I wanted all the details to be just right.

At the same time, spontaneity will take a hand! I needed a straight backed chair for my project, and as I went to borrow a dining chair to set in the bedroom, I stopped in my tracks.

Why not here, in our stylish dining room?

The setting would add to the thrill. I grabbed up some file folders and taped them against the window glass, blocking most of the sun and any potential the curious eyes. Light filtered from the top up high where I didn't cover it. I wouldn't begrudge a passing basketball player, 8 feet tall! Or some eagle-eyed passenger in a low flying plane!

I set his place at the table:

•Ice bucket, filled with ice around a cold bottle of beer

•One of our good beer glasses

•My phone, with the display turned towards me

•Handcuff key

•Wire cutters

•A note: "Please don't nip when you snip!"

Already my pants were warm and wet!

In the kitchen, I slipped out of my slacks, draping them as an arrow leading to the dining room. My blouse quickly followed. I fled to the bedroom.

In just my panties, I started with my eyes. I wanted heavy, sluttish makeup on this very bad girl. Eyeshadow primer, black eyeliner, and then lusty, smoky eyeshadow. I took my time with it; at the end, I was as hot as any pole dancer or stripper girl (at least as far as I know).

Brushed my long hair until it shone. I bathed my skin in a new lotion that had tiny flecks of glitter. I treated myself to extra pulses of perfume spray. And no lipstick this afternoon!

In the bedroom, I pulled on black nylon stockings with hold-up bands at the thighs. Girls in black lingerie have been a cliché for years, but you know what? Cliché's work! I knew from experience that men go crazy for black.

Back at the bathroom mirror, I watched myself take a last drink of cool water. Then the bad girl in the mirror held up a large pair of my silky panties! She slowly wadded them, and fed them into her/our mouth. Feeling very full, I picked off the end of a roll of vet wrap, then carefully wound lengths of it around my mouth and head, sealing my gag into place. I grunted a few muffled moans; it was awesome! And this particular wrap was a lovely wine-red color, perfect for my plan. My face looked great.

In that same mirror, I was very careful with my next step. I started a zip tie, nestled it at the base of my breast. I pulled the tail of the strap through the head, then slowly tugged, enjoying the audible "tick-tick-tick" until it was snug around me without being too tight. I repeated the process with my right boob, making sure the heads ended up in my cleavage, and then snipped off the long tails. What a delicious, full feeling! I gave my nipples a few test flicks, delighting in the sensation. My nostrils flared with my sighs, my mouth watering around the damp underpants.

A long burgundy scarf, around my throat and knotted in the back, became a snug choker. This pet needed to be collared!

And I drew on a pair of long, silky opera gloves over my new manicure. These were burgundy, to match my choker and the vet wrap gag.

Glittery skin, smoky eyes, gagged mouth, burgundy choker, opera gloves, black stockings. And dangerous black bands around each full breast – already my globes were darkening, the reddish-purple matching my chosen color scheme. I crossed my arms behind me, fingers cupping the opposite elbow, and posed in the mirror, play-protesting and whining behind my gag...

The good girl had left the building! The naughty girl stood ready, with stiff nipples and a watering vajay...

Strap on the heels. My very highest, practically impossible to walk in or stand for any length of time. No time like the present!

Then I hobbled off to the dining room with a tote of my remaining props.

I set the chair facing the back doorway, and a thick terry towel. From the tote, my trusty vibrator and a roll of tape. I arranged myself on the seat, legs wide; positioned the vibrator and taped it into place.

I stood up again, smoothed my gag across my face less anything be loose (it wasn't). I shucked my panties, folded them and set them under my chair. Seated again, I worked the bulbous head of the plastic cock just into the folds of my wet and wanting pussy. For a moment, I considered plunging it in, forgetting my well-lain plans. Hurry! Before I change my mind!

My husband's zip ties in the garage are milky white and utilitarian. When I had seen black zip ties in the hardware aisle, I snatched them up. So much scarier, elegant, and sexier. I bent at the waist and quickly zipped each nyloned ankle to separate legs of the chair. Another tie went above each tight calve, holding me tightly to the chair. With my own wire cutters, I snipped off the tails, dumping them in my handy tote. My body temp was rising, my pulse pounding.

A long rope passed under the chair and around the back soon tied me snug into my seat. It allowed for some squirming, but little thrusting into the positioned vibrator. I was aware of the heady scent of my dripping feminine juices.

I arranged 3 loose loops of zip tie on the left chair back. Another moment of truth. I passed my arm through them, then carefully snugged up each one, at my bicep, elbow, and finally wrist. I wriggled and was delightfully bound without being painfully uncomfortable. With my free right hand and some elegant contortions, I snipped the long leads, capturing the tails and dropping them in my tote.

My breasts were now a delightful shade of purple, my tits extended and extremely sensitive. I had thought about nipple clamps in this adventure; glad I skipped that route. I rubbed my nipples hungrily, and jammed the plastic cock a fraction of an inch still deeper into me. My skin was very warm now as my body continued heating up.

I drew 3 additional zip ties and laid them on the table, at my husband's place setting.

Now the handcuff. I used my trapped left hand, and managed to secure the bracelet onto my gloved right wrist. It wouldn't be perfect symmetry, but I would be captive and secure.

Last steps: I twisted the base and the chattering vibrator lurched into action. Deliciousness! I pawed at my own nipples one more time –

And then with that right hand, I took the open bracelet and slapped it around the chair leg behind me.

I was well and truly bound now. My heart was hammering from the thrill of what I had done. My vibrator chattered happily between my legs, and I could feel my pussy gaping. I could angle slightly in my bondage, but couldn't get contact with my swollen, needy clitoris. Such frustration! A desperate damsel in distress waiting for her rescuer!

A glance at the phone. He would be home in 20 minutes. I had texted him enough hints so he had an idea about a sexy surprise. How would he react when he came through that doorway?

For now, I could only chew my own underwear, luxuriating in my bondage. I grew more heated, could feel the dew standing out on my forehead and upper chest. Repeatedly I strained the few inches of chain on that right wrist shackle, but with no relief. If I could reach my hungry slit, if I could only touch my distended nipples. I squirmed and I stewed, happily frustrated.

I found if I hung my head, my hair spilled down over me, skimming the tops of my breasts. My face became more flushed, the sweat slid down. I thought about my carefully applied make-up, and swung my hair back. Too early in the afternoon for the raccoon look. I don't mind looking used, but I want the hot action first.

I flexed my feet in my impossibly high heels, trapped at the ankle and leg against the chair. Black nylons, my thighs spread, open and wanting for any violation. The vulgar vibrator set just inside of me, and I squeezed my Kegels, trying helplessly to draw it in. Thick rope tied at my waist. Sexy gloved arms held fast to the chair. My bound breasts, red-purple with nipples pointing. A matching wine-colored choker at my throat. The bottom of my face completely wrapped in a matching color, preventing any outcry. Sexy eyes, a sweaty brow and tousled hair.

This is what he would find. If he ever got home!

*******************************************

A few minutes later, I hear his key at the door and I stop fidgeting. For a heartbeat I wonder what if it is not my man? What if it is the meter reader, a delivery man, a burglar? That scandalous thought flies away in an instant as I recognize familiar footfalls. That's him setting down his bag, the jingle of emptying pockets. C'mon, damnit, I know you see my discarded clothing. His shadow looms...

And then my handsome husband is standing in the doorway, shaking his head at me. "Darling! Have we been robbed?" he asks with that knowing grin. I make a nasally un-huh sound, and slowly rock my head left and right.

"Should I let you loose?" Again, I slowly shake left to right, my eyes crinkle reflecting the smile under my thick multi-ply gag.

He sits and fiddles with his cold beer, settling back with his drink. He apprises me, and I bask in the naked hunger of his look.

"Something is just not right here," he says. He thoughtfully tugs up my loose elbow length glove and quickly zips my right arm more properly to the chair standards. He unlocks the unneeded cuff. "There! Much better."

Standing behind me, a firm hand tugs the silken choker; as I knew it would. He carefully touches my purplish globes, and brushes my pointing titties. I gasp at the touch, my eyes rolling into the back of my head. He is concerned about blood circulation, but with my noises and head shakes, he is reassured and allows the game to go on.

He circles me. Noting the vibrator, he removes the securing tape, and slowly works the tool in and out of my hungry slit. I chew on my gag and try to urge him: "Fuck my pussy, give it to me, fuck my hole." But of course my speech is unintelligible. I strain at the ties. My skin is aglow with sheen. I do my trick, dropping my head and brushing breasts, then flip my hair around. I am a sweaty, horny harlot.

He picks up my phone now. What the hell? Men can't go 5 minutes without checking a screen? He smiles to himself, then grabs up my discarded panties from under my chair. Despite my helpless protests, he pulls them over my head, arranging the back panel over my face and nose. Then the audible "click" of my phone's photo shutter. He is taking an entire series of photos of me in my distress! Photos have never been part of our deal, and I struggle mightily to get loose, screaming through my wet gag. While my face is hidden, anyone could recognize my body or the rooms in our home.

Then it's more vibrator plunging in and out of me. I am trapped, his sexy captive to treat however he wishes. Even to mistreat with my panties over my face. I hang my mop of hair again, as if in shame. But naturally, I love every moment of it. And I'll soon treasure those photos.

My panty hood is pulled away. Positioned next to my bondage throne, he becomes more careful with the vibrator; it becomes less about penetration and more about my hungry, swollen clit. His rough face is on my sensitive boob, and his cool lips on my nipple and aureole. The vibe on my clit, his fingers penetrating my lips, his teeth now brushing my tit –

My building orgasm pulses over me like a series of crashing rollers, each wave throbbing my pussy and my entire shuddering body. I scream into my packing, my nostrils flaring as I suck in and expel huge breaths. I pull at my bindings without thought, wracked in the throws of orgasm. Finally my head rocks down, chin on chest once again, my wild hair draped over me. I am spent. My brain is jelly.

As I sag like a rag doll, he loses his shoes, socks and trousers. He picks at the vet wrap, and is soon unwinding the long strip from around my head. My sodden panties fall into my lap, over the vibrator; he sweeps both items to the floor. I lift my head to see him fisting his huge dick, jerking it. And now his fat cock is coming toward me; I turn my head away. Still trying to catch my breath, I plead for water. My horny master spills a bit of his yeasty beer in my mouth. It tastes awful, but at least it is wet.

And then that bulbous head is pushing past my lips. I relax my throat and begin my cocksucking duties. True, I love giving head to my husband, (and other men in my memorable past). My heart is hammering, and I wish for a few extra minutes to recover. But his need is evident. His "need" appears thick and long and extremely evident. As I work at him, I think: "Bastard! You haven't been tied and gagged for an hour thinking about little else than cumming. You can just wait." But of course I would never say such a thing to my good man. I am his captive slave. I am his cocksucking whore.

His hands are in my hair, pulling me onto him. He saws in and out of my mouth, and I reward him with suckling and gulping sounds, breathing mightily through my nose. He is close now, his balls tight to my chin...

And then the naughty girl inside does the naughtiest thing of all. As his cum pulses into my mouth, I twist my head away. I catch his thick load all over my chin, and cheek, even the side of my nose. His cum slides over my dried lips, dripping from my chin, oozing onto my red sensitive breasts. He flops into his chair and stares at me, somewhat unfocused...

And it's time for me to say, "Thank you dear. Thank you darling. And how was your day?"

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Likes or Constructive Comments always welcome.

Also see:

Bound in the Attic

and

Bound on Display