I laughed as she moaned, her body trussed against the X of the St Andrew’s Cross I’d built in the basement. Dana’s sex was exposed and a small metal probe stuck out of her cunt and two more cups were attached to her breasts, wires from all three leading to the console next to me. I turned a dial and she screamed through the leather bit splitting her mouth, her ass wiggling as her body shuddered from the mild electric current that was running through it.
It was hard to believe this had begun after a Cub Scout committee meeting six months ago.
* * * * *
Our Pack had started out small, as I initially had only 20 kids from this school, but all the parents worked well together and soon we’d built up the ranks. Dana was one of the mom’s I’d met at scouts. Her son joined our Cub Scout pack a little later and she seemed to want to get involved, so I invited her to join the Pack Committee. I’m the Committee Chairman, a divorced dad and I get my son for scouts and whenever I want him on weekends and in the summer. Her husband was a rising star at his company and seemed more interested in promotions and making money than he did at being active with his son or making love to his trophy wife.
Yes, Dana was beautiful. She had been a cheerleader all through high school and college and then went on to professional sports for a couple of seasons. Her husband had played pro-football for three years before an automobile accident put an end to that dream for both of them.
Three weeks ago, we’d been two people out of a dozen parents attending a committee meeting at my house. After it broke up, she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to go home, so I offered her a glass of wine while she helped me clean up the dining room table. I asked if she didn’t need to get home right away and she said that her mother was watching her son and that the husband was out of town. We sat at the table, talking and drinking as if we’d known each other for years, falling into a relaxed friendship that sometimes happens between kindred souls. She ended up unburdening her self on me, talking about the hassles of moving to a new community and the personal problems they were going through that were exacerbated by her husbands increasing career drive and his decreasing interest in physical contact.
I poured Dana another glass of wine while she talked and we moved to the couch in the living room. After finishing the last of the wine, Dana put the glass down and excused herself to go to the bathroom. When she came back she asked me about a piece of equipment I had inside one of the rooms she’d passed. I told her it was something electrical that had been given to my by a friend and that I was fixing it to see if I could use it.
“What are you going to use it for?” she asked, an amused smile forming at the corners of her mouth.
“I’m not sure,” I told her, evading the subject. So far, I’d kept my public and private lives separate and wanted it to stay that way.
“Do you know what that thing is?” she queried.
“Yes,” I said, nodding, “Do you?”
“I sure do,” she told me. Dana told me about the accident that she had been in with her husband and explained that the physical therapist had used that machine to stimulate her muscles after her hip and knee surgeries. Her husband (who I’ll call Ron because I don’t want to reveal who they really are) had detested the therapy, but Dana revealed she found perverse pleasure in it.
“Ron hated that machine,” she told me, nodding her head toward my workroom.
“Oh? I’d think he’d be used to it. I hear they employ it quite a bit in sports.”
“That’s why he hated it,” she continued, and then giggled, the second glass of wine having an effect. “Now I, on the other hand, enjoyed it!”
“Oh?” I said, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” she stated, blushing a bit. “It actually had an… interesting effect.”
I began to smile, seeing where this conversation was going. “Tell me about it,” I said to her.
“I can’t believe I’m talking to you about this…” she began.
Dana began to tell me about how their sexual relationship had gone downhill since the accident. Ron had a hard time dealing with the fact that he couldn’t play football anymore and it seemed to affect his ability to “get it up.”
“There had only been female physical therapists for the first few days, but then this guy came in. He wasn’t really good looking, but he was different. The women had gone about their job with a clinical air, but he was very sensual in the way he approached it. He made sure I was comfortable and told me what the effects were going to be. He also encouraged me to push my limits of tolerance.”
I poured Dana another glass of wine and she continued her story. She told me that he challenged her that day to see if she could take a stronger and longer session. He pulled back her covers and applied the jelly to the skin before attaching the electrodes.
“He seemed to devour my semi-nakedness with his eyes,” she said. “At first I was appalled, but it had been such a long time since my husband had looked at me that way that I took a perverse pleasure in his gaze. I could feel my nipples hardening under the hospital gown, making little tents in the material. Then I spread my legs a little and he put another electrode further up on my inner-thigh – much higher than was necessary.”
“What happened then?” I asked.
“He turned on the machine and stood there ‘to make sure it worked,’ all the time, staring at my tits. It worked in pulses that gradually increased in intensity until it peaked and then would cycle again. He stood there and watched and I became aroused. Then I began to feel the tingling of the current making the muscles in my legs twitch, but the one that was up high on my thigh – closest to my, um, um…” Dana blushed and took another swig from her wine. “Well, it had an effect on me when it peaked. I’d never experienced anything like that. When that happened, Tom, the physical therapist, just smiled, pulled the blanket up and walked away. He never touched me, but he had a huge hard on making his pants bulge. When I thought about that, I got turned on again and as the pulses increase again, I had another orgasm. Jesus, Jake, I had at least two dozen of them before he came back in and took the machine off me!”
I smiled, seeing Dana in a new light. She poured another glass of wine for herself and then shook her head.
“It continued like this for two weeks. God, but I looked forward to Tom’s visits! He kept increasing the intensity, now putting electrodes on both thighs. One day I cried out from an
extremely
intense orgasm and a nurse happened to be walking by. She called a doctor in, thinking that I was in pain. I was so embarrassed that I told them that was what happened. Tom got fired and I ended up with the female therapists again, but it wasn’t the same.”
Dana looked at me, her brown eyes glistening. “I haven’t had an orgasm like that since then. God knows I’ve tried, but the old in-and-out just doesn’t do it for me anymore!” Dana then burst into tears, “Jesus, I’ve become such a fuckin’ freak! A pervert!”
I moved over to her and put my arm around her. “No, Dana, you’re not a freak or a pervert. You simply have special needs.”
Dana stopped crying and looked at me, searching my face for something. I smiled again and told her that my wife had left me because I was a bit kinkier than she was.
“What do you mean by kinkier?” she asked.
“Well, I joined Scouts because I’m good with knots,” I said amusedly. Dana laughed and then looked at me curiously.
“So,” she said, coyly, “where do you do your kinky stuff? It’s obviously not here.”
“Dana,” I began, “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, you’re married to a very successful man who makes a lot of money, you have your son and your reputation to think of. We could both be run out of Scouts for this.”
“Fuck Scouts, I don’t give a damn what everyone thinks and to hell with Ron and his precious money!” she hissed, then turned to me with soulful eyes, “I want to live again, Blake! I want to feel passion again!”
I sighed because I had to make sure. “Yes, but do you want that passion with just anyone or with me in particular?”
“God damn it, Blake, I couldn’t have this conversation with anyone else. You’re my closest friend and the only person I’ve talked to about this!!”
“But I’m not,"
“I don’t give a damn if you’re not like Ron in any way,” she spat. “What good is money and status if you don’t have love and passion? What good is it if the only thing he wants from me is to ‘look good on his arm?’ What good is money and status if you feel dead inside? Blake, I don’t want to be like those other high-society bitches that Ron and I associate with. They’ve all become cold-hearted and empty, wanting only what the money can bring them!”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t bring you passion, Dana,” I told her. “What I want to know is whether or not you are… Whether you could be…” I searched for the proper words and couldn’t find them. I stared off into space for a moment before making a decision.
“You’ve said you don’t like being a trophy wife, but you obviously enjoy all the trappings…”
“I never said I didn’t like being one,” she whispered, her head down. “I just said that there wasn’t anything good about it if there wasn’t passion behind it.”
“Stand up,” I told her. Dana slowly rose from the table and stood in front of me. I got up, ignoring her and said, “Follow me.”
I have a quad-level home and she followed me into the basement. Most of it was walled off. Dana followed me to the door and I unlocked it. She looked around as I led her into the small foyer and unlocked the second door.
“Why two doors?” she asked me.
“Soundproofing,” I said, “Watch your step.”
She stumbled down the four steps into the darkness. I closed and locked the second door before turning on the array of soft Christmas lights that twinkled on the ceiling. Lit up, it revealed black walls and various wooden, metal and leather implements on shelves and hooks. There was a bar hanging down from the ceiling by some chains and cups in the floor split by a metal bar. It resembled the tie-downs I knew from serving on an aircraft carrier in the Navy. Dana hugged herself as she looked around, wide-eyed.
“Afraid now?” I asked.
“A little,” she replied, “And a little turned on!”
I smiled at her. “Strip.”
“What?” she said, turning toward me.
