Too Much of a Good Thing

"There we go," she said, pulling the strap tight and buckling it with a flourish. "Comfortable?"

The question was purely rhetorical. His comfort was not an issue. More to the point, she had filled his mouth with a ball gag so large that he could not even whimper around it, so large that he could not have forced it out even if it hadn't been strapped in. She stepped back from her handiwork to take a moment's pleasure in the sight of it.

He was the picture of helplessness. In truth, "helpless" was hardly an adequate description. She had done everything possible not only to immobilize him, but to maximize and accentuate his vulnerability.

She had captured his hands behind his back, in a single mitten of sturdy black leather that was tightly locked around his wrists. A matching collar encircled his neck. A chain ran from the metal ring at the front of the collar to a thick steel ring anchored to the concrete floor of the basement, preventing him from raising his head. Another chain ran from the lock at his wrists to a winch mounted on the joist above him; she had used it to pull his bound hands as high as they would go.

She had stripped him, forced his feet into pointed-toe pumps with five-inch heels, and strapped his ankles to the uprights of a vertical steel frame, an inverted U solidly bolted to the floor. She had put a heavy black belt about his waist. Another belt pulled to maximum tension ran from the one around his waist to a pinion at the top of the U, a few inches above his invitingly bare bottom. The combination of the shoes and the restraints forced him to protrude his buttocks like a cat in heat.

He could neither move nor speak, but his eyes testified eloquently to his abject terror. He was ready.

She moved to stand before him and enjoy his silent pleas for release. She had known what she was doing when she chose a man shorter and slighter than herself for her husband. He could never have done this to her. Yet he had thought to press her for sex when all she had wanted in the world was time to herself, to read and think. Now, trussed like a lamb for the slaughter, he had finally glimpsed the consequences, the inevitable outcome, of any maltreatment he might offer her. He would learn much more, shortly.

"I had thought to leave you down here awhile," she said softly. "Alone in the dark, bound and gagged, with only your regrets for company, while I amused myself upstairs, perhaps with a lover. But it didn't seem . . . emphatic enough. The penalty for the kind of nagging you've inflicted on me this past week should be much more definite and pointed than just a few hours of discomfort in the dark. And now that I've thought about it, I think I've come up with the perfect lesson."

The microscopic surge of his neck and shoulder muscles was probably all he could produce in his condition. She had no doubt of his mental state.

"Oh, don't worry. It's something you've always really liked. Though I'm not so sure you'll like it all that much in the future."

From a table behind her she selected a silver vibrator about the size of his erect penis and coated it carefully with Vaseline. As she moved behind him, she could feel the tension coursing through him. He had no idea what she was about to do.

She used the tapered tip of the vibrator to tease his anus open and lubricate it simultaneously. There was no difficulty. He had always loved this kind of play, loved to be penetrated by her, and she had done it to him many times. After a moment, his anus began to respond by pulsing rhythmically, as it always did to her gentle probes with the cool, smooth toy. Presently she switched the vibrator on and slipped its full length inside him. His body spasmed, and tremors began to run through him. His own penis began to fill with blood. It was only a matter of seconds before he was hard and full.

She rocked the vibrator gently back and forth, endeavoring to caress his prostate from inside. He surrendered totally to the pleasure of it, as he always did.

When he was about to come, she switched off the vibrator and withdrew it. He remained at maximum tension, his organ fully erect, millimeters from release. She knew he could stay that way a long time.

"You love that, don't you?" she said to his back. "You love it when I take you that way. For a little while, it allows you to forget yourself, forget what a failure you are as a man. You can relax and let someone else do the driving. You can be the woman you were meant to be, that you should have been."

She applied a pair of thick leather straps to his genitals: one at the base of his penis, the other at the base of his scrotum. Now he would stay hard regardless of anything.

She returned to the table to fetch her next instrument for his correction. It had started life as a standard mechanic's grease gun, before she had had it modified. The standard grease valve fitting had been removed and replaced by a flesh-colored plug the size and shape of an erect penis, but with a much larger aperture. The original cylindrical grease reservoir had also been removed; a rubber fitting to a long hose had replaced it. The hose led to a large, shiny black rubber bladder that gave off traces of steam.

"You know, being a woman doesn't just mean getting to be chased instead of chasing, or lying back and being penetrated. There are a lot of disadvantages to it, too. Four or five days a month, we go through a lot of discomfort. Mostly it's because of how bloated we get. And with all that medical science can do, they still can't do much about that. It's a big part of the reason we can get so hard to handle."

She went to his bottom again, hose hissing against the floor as it uncoiled behind her. "For days you've been acting like a PMS-crazed bitch without any of the usual physiological justifications. So I thought I'd give you some, to complete the package, so to speak. I don't think I really needed to lube you for this, but I didn't want to risk hurting you . . . that way."

Her previous treatment had prepared him well. The knob went into him easily. It sank deeply into him with only guidance and minuscule pressure from her. She took a deep breath and began to pump the trigger.

Thick, heavy molybdenum grease, warmed to body temperature, flowed sluggishly into his bowels, packing and distending them. She watched with vicious delight as his abdomen swelled with its viscous new contents. Now and then she would pause and withdraw the instrument, to let any gas escape that might otherwise become a trapped bubble in the grease pool and give him colic.

As his bowel filled with the heavy semiliquid, backpressure developed against her continued pumping, She had to bear down on the trigger to keep grease flowing into him. Eventually, the backpressure began to push the penis fitting out of his anus.

After about fifteen minutes, she had filled him completely. His belly hung low from the load of grease, pulling at his pelvis. Surely she had gotten at least five pounds of it into him. She withdrew the pump and replaced it with a large electric rubber dildo. She had to push it rather forcefully into the grease inside him. It slid into him slowly until his anus gripped its tapered base. The dildo was attached to a simple leather harness, a crotch strap attached at both ends to a waist strap with a prong buckle. She pulled the waist strap around him, pulled it tight and buckled it carefully. Now the dildo would keep him full until she chose to allow him relief.

His own penis was still maximally hard and erect. Although he had only the barest idea what she had done, he could feel it where it counted.

"That's how it feels to be bloated with menstrual fluid and not be able to void it. This whole past week I've felt just the way you do now. Getting an idea about that, now?"

She let her fingernails trail lightly across his buttocks, lightly tickling his inguineum and coming to rest against his balls. They were hot, smooth, and very tight. Even full of that heavy industrial grease, he was still as aroused as he could get.

"But you've nagged me for sex. And nagged me, and nagged me, and nagged me! You knew how I felt. It's not as if I took any trouble to hide it, but all you could think of was how long it had been since you last got your little rocks off!" She caressed the underside of his scrotum. "Now that the shoes are on your feet, do you have an idea what that was like for me?"

She waited a moment to let the point sink home. "You're going to have an even better idea in a moment." She flicked a switch on the base of the dildo. The device began to piston back and forth inside him, sending pressure waves through the dense hot grease that filled him. She moved to stand before him once again.

His face was as tight as a fully inflated toy balloon and bright red, all the veins standing out in high relief. His eyes bulged with each stroke. The tension throughout his body could not have been higher if he'd been stretched on a rack. But because of the tight leather straps around the base of his penis and the base of his scrotum, he could not come. Neither the huge pool of grease trapped in his bowel nor the much smaller but equally urgent stream of semen trapped in his balls could escape.

"I'm sure you're just loving that, aren't you? I'm going upstairs now. Perhaps I'll read for a while. Don't worry, I'll be back to see to you in good time. The battery in the dildo should run down in about two hours."

She mounted the stairs to the living floors of the house. When she'd reached the door at the top, she turned back to him with a mocking smile.

"Enjoy!"

-- The End --