The dirty girl comes out, delivering summertime Friday night fun
Male/female - married - bondage - gagged - tied -submissive - punished
The naughty girl comes out, sometimes when I least expect it. Like this evening.
We had a nice dinner out, the first in weeks. It's beautiful summertime here, and I choose a fashionable sweeping sundress, strappy high heels, and chunky dangling earrings. My hair was up, in a way that kept me cool; it was also a stylish 'do that I knew he loved. We sat at the restaurant's lovely outdoor dining patio. I was the perfect good girl, enjoying a night out with my attentive, wonderful husband.
Scandalously, I felt a few hungry eyes on me, scrumptious looks from the surrounding male diners. That gave me a thrill. Maybe that was the seed.
Because soon the naughty girl came out. She waited until the wine in our glass was about one-third remaining, and then (bitch!) she carelessly moved our arm. The glass shattered on the bricks, liquid splashing, shards flying.
Oh, everyone was very nice about it. The young busboy swept it up with professional precision. The smiling waiter even gave me a free glass of wine. But my cheeks burned with embarrassment at the other patrons' stares. And the angry glare from my husband could only mean one thing, once we got home. I quickly drank the second glass, drowning inhibitions and preparing for the next phase of our evening.
At home, he was no-nonsense, stern in his direction to wait on the couch while he went upstairs. I didn't even loosen a high heel or remove an earring. I knew what was coming. What I deserved. Alone, I sat primly on my warm hands, my nipples stiffening in the lacy bra.
Bad girls need to be punished.
Oh there was a lot of rope! I prefer the leather cuffs; they are more comfortable on my thin wrists. Not an option that sultry night. He cinched my wrists together behind my back, and then wrapped more rope, wind after wind, halfway up my forearms. My arms were welded behind me.
"You embarrassed me and you embarrassed yourself," he hissed. He is a good man, my handsome husband. He is outwardly shy and I know he hates public spectacles. The naughty girl is well aware of that. I started to apologize, but from the aggressive tug of the ropes, any plea was pointless.
He pulled me across the room to a spot in front of our brick fireplace. Another rope went over a beam, and he worked it under my arms and armpits, then slightly hoisted me up.
Next was to tie my feet. I marveled at his use of the long thin cord, passing it under my arches, effectively tying my shoes to my feet, and binding my ankles together.
I was like a feminine bundle of laundry hanging from a peg. Defenseless, I was supported by the harness under my arms, standing erect on the balls of my feet. I could just slightly lean back on my thin high heels for added support.
"I tried to be good, honey. I dressed nicely for you and we had such a good time -"
"I'm not going to have you whining," he said, grabbing up the big red ball and straps. Within seconds, the ball was in my mouth seated behind my teeth. He set the straps under my dangling earrings, along my face. I was glad I had my hair up, as in the past he really fumbles with buckling the straps, even capturing and pulling my hair.
I was truly tied and gagged now, strung up, my arms behind me, ankles lashed together, and quite unable to make more than a whimper. He glared at me, then left the room. I twisted in my bondage, pulling, testing the ropes, and finding no relief at all. I was helpless, but there was more. I could feel the hotline that runs from my stiff tits down to my weeping, hungry pussy. I could feel my face flush.
Bad girls get what's coming to them.
My dear husband returned, this time with a cold beer in his hand. He flopped into his recliner, pointed the TV remote, and soon was running a filthy adult movie.
From my tied up vantage point, I could see it at an angle; I certainly heard it full force. In minutes, two harsh women with enormous breasts and bad fashion sense were sharing a bed. They began meticulously pawing each other over the strains of an awful musical score.
I twisted in my bondage, very aware that I was part of my husband's visual entertainment for the night. My pussy ached, weeping into the tiny thong panties I worn for him that evening. Unfortunately, my mouth was watering, too; I kept trying to hold my head back, to catch my own drool. But soon drool forced around the big ball, dripping onto my beautiful floral dress. So embarrassing for me.
I tried to be good, I really tried. But the naughty girl betrayed me. And naughty girls earn humiliation.
Abruptly, he got up and grabbed more rope. What was he going to do to me now? Length after length of cord passed above and below my breasts, and he pulled the ropes into a tight chest harness. My summery dress didn't unbutton on the front. If it had, my bare tits surely would be on display for my perverted man.
On the TV, the lucky blond had a breast jammed almost completely into the mouth of her brunette friend, who was simultaneously jacking fingers into the blonde's willing snatch. My pussy ached, I was aware of my own musky scent; certainly the glow on my forehead and face showed my helpless distress.
