The Rules

I have been in a long-term relationship with you for several years and quite frankly, it's gotten _really_, _really_ dull! Sure, you like to have sex in a lot of different positions and places, but big deal! Each time, it all boils down to boring conventional sex. Ho Hum! While you fascinate me as a person and are very lovable, your sexual imagination sucks hot ass! I've got to do something to liven things up between us and soon else I might find myself going behind your back--and I'd hate myself for that kind of betrayal.

When I first met you, you hinted around that you sometimes liked the kind of sex I call "rough trade," but as you grew to love and admire me, it seemed you let that part of yourself atrophy, as if you felt it would be terrible to do that kind of thing to someone as wonderful as myself. Well, hmm, that gives me an idea. Maybe if I made myself a little less "wonderful" for a period of time, those feelings of yours might re-emerge. It's worth a try. At this point, _anything's_ worth a try. All that's needed now is a structure to make my change of self plausible. OK, I've got it!

I approach you one evening after we've finished watching our favorite TV show together. I am serious and sincere: "Honey, how would you like to play a game with me over the next few days? A sexual game?" You are unequivocally enthusiastic, just as I knew you'd be. I explain the my idea: the rules are that, over the next four days, we will not have sex. This will allow the desire and tension between us to build. Furthermore, while you can masturbate all you want, you _cannot_ come until the four days is up. No orgasms until Sunday, at exactly this time. In addition, you cannot touch me or kiss me during that time. I then ask him to give me his word that he will abide by the rules. Silly man, he promises, perhaps not remembering that, while he's usually a "twice a day" man, we've both just had a very busy week and therefore neither of us has had any sexual satisfaction for over six days. I mentally rub my hands in glee. "Thank you so much for agreeing to try this with me," I whisper in his ear as I rub my body up against him. He puts his arms around me, forgetting. "No touching!" I remind him. "Hey! But _you're_ touching _me_!" he responds. "Yeah," I laugh, "but there's nothing in the rules that says I can't!"

I let him off for the rest of the night. We both go to sleep, and when I find him rolling over to my side of the bed, I wake him up and remind him about the no touching rule, even in sleep. He grumbles a bit at being awakened each of the five times that I have to do so.

The next evening, after we've had dinner, I tell him I feel grungy and am going up to take a shower. I ask innocently if he wants to watch, and he is all for this. I do a strip tease for him in the bedroom, slowly removing each article of clothing, half putting it back on, then letting it drop to the floor. As I expected, he takes his cock out of his shorts and starts to play with it. Once my clothes are off, I do some "busywork": I examine my breasts for lumps--hmmm, it looks pretty lumpy around the nipples, I better pay special attention to them. Honey, does this look like a lump to you? Look real closely now. Oops! sorry, didn't mean to hit you in the face with that! I pretend to not be able to find my nightgown, and look for it in the lowest drawer in the dresser, bending over with my legs straight, slightly spread, and my back to him, naturally. I then crawl onto the bed where he is sitting, his hand moving faster and faster, and bend wayyyy over the other side so I can look for the nightgown. Ah! There it is, I say with much squirming and bottom-wiggling. "Way, way under there!" He's starting to groan now. Tee. Hee. And look at this cute pink gauzy scarf I found under there too! Remember this scarf, honey? You gave it to me for our second anniversary. Mmmm, I'm feeling so _nasty_ right now, I think I'm going to stick in my bottom crack so it looks like I'm wearing a pink gauzy tail. Still on my hands and knees, I lower my head to the bed and slowly insert the scarf corner into my anus, making sure he can see every detail of the insertion. "Neigh!" I feel like a pony and prance and skip around the room, my breasts and the scarf bouncing in rhythm. I then jump into his lap and grab him around the neck, wiggling my naked ass against his thighs. "Am I a nice pony, sir? Would you buy me at the state fair?" He almost grabs me but then remembers and moans.

I jump off him quickly, ask him to pull the scarf out (I don't want to get it wet), then hop into the shower. "Are you coming, dear?" I ask sweetly, as I lather up. For this occasion, I've installed a new shower curtain, perfectly clear, although the thick plastic makes my body look slightly out of focus. He sits on the toilet seat watching me caress myself with the soap. I make sure he sees me clean every part of myself, very thoroughly. Afterwards, he asks if he can dry me off, saying that it wouldn't really be touching because it would be through a towel, and I let him do a little of that--just a little though. Afterwards I think to myself that I've never had such a dry pussy after a shower before.

The rest of the evening passes uneventfully, although each time I get up in my white, thin nightgown, he stares hungrily at me.

During the night I must again push him away from me several times. I note with satisfaction that his cock is hard each time.

On Friday, I rent some porn movies, just the kind he likes to watch, plus a few of the "rougher" ones that I like but have not ventured to rent with him before. Again, poor man, he _plays_ with himself while watching them and has a hard time stopping. For some time, I lay on the couch with him over his lap, my head on the arm of the couch, my bottom in the see-through nightie slightly arched. I can tell it's driving him mad not to be able to touch my olive-brown skin so clearly visible under the thin layer of cloth. "This is so FUCKING HARD!" he gasps at one point. "Well, you agreed to it, silly!" I respond, then giggle uncontrollably. For the first time (but not the last) he calls me "Bitch!"

I am delighted and respond enthusiastically as I wiggle my ass "Nah Nah, Nah Nah NAH!"

When the last tape (which depicts a pretty extreme and realistic S&M-rape scenario), is halfway over and in one of the hottest scenes, I suddenly stop the tape and say that I have a surprise in store for him. I stand up and tell him I'll be back in five or ten minutes. "Don't worry," I say in my "mysterious" voice, "it's worth waiting for."

I go upstairs and change, then go sit on the floor under the TV, facing him. I tell him that I'd love to watch him masturbating, watching me and this film, while I masturbate, too. I've changed into this extremely slutty outfit I found in a catalog: it's a matching turquoise top and hot pants. The long sleeved midriff-baring top is very conservative--it goes all the way up my neck! Only problem is, my dark brown nipples peek out these two little zippered holes in front. They looked a little plain, probably because I've seen them every day of my life for years, so I took a bright red-orange lip gloss (that tastes like pomegranate--yum!) and prettied them up. Even with the nice lipstick coating, however, they're kind of cold out in the chilled air, so I've attached one end of a little silver chain to each nip in the hopes of keeping them warmer. My nipples are not pierced, so the attachments are "clip-on": two tiny pairs of silver handcuffs. Over the neck part of the top I've put a slim leather collar with silver lettering that reads "Peter's Slave." (Good name for this guy, isn't it?) I attach some very long silver-chained slutty earrings to my ears.

The hot pants are made of the same turquoise material, small and stretchy, only (and this is what attracted me in the first place) they have the word "cunt" written at least a hundred times across them in bold silver letters. They aren't big enough to lay properly in the back, particularly over my big bottom, and after taking just a couple of steps they've snuck far up into my ass crack, which is kind of uncomfortable, but I'm always willing to suffer for a good cause. As the pants are slung low over my hips, I decide to accent my waist with a bikini chain.

Finally, I don a pair of white ankle boots from the same catalog: they have the pain-in-the-ass little hooks up the front that you have to loop the leather cord through before tying them off at the top. These booties have an amazing amount of cord left over after they are laced, however, so I crisscross the while laces up my brown legs, tying them off near the tops of my thighs. I'm not exactly fat, but I have plenty of flesh on my legs, so the skin slightly plumps out between the crisscrossings. I tease my long hair a little bit to give it that 60s look (plus, in a story like this, what could hair be other than teased?), and then I'm done.

Back down the stairs I wobble (should never have gotten such high heels--I just can't wear them) and model in front of my partner, turning around so he can view me from all sides. I bend over, arch my back, pick up my breasts from underneath and push them together, almost touching his face, and dance a little bit (before I almost fall down). "You like?" I ask. He just nods with a glazed look in his eyes. Hehehe! This is so fun!

I then get on the floor and crawl slowly over to the TV, start the final tape, and sit down on the floor underneath it, legs spread, knees up a little, facing him. I imagine that I look like a kinky Barbie doll. "Hey kiddo," I say affectionately, over the noise of the loud screaming coming from the tape, "Did you know that I just lovvve watching you masturbate? There's something so primitive and rough about it. It really turns me on! Would you play with yourself right now while I watch and at the same time I'll play with myself for you?" His answer is a growl of half pain/half lust. I take that for a yes. He starts to slowly rub his large and well-shaped cock (it's one of those odd curvy ones that looks like a scimitar) while staring at me like I'm a big pot of steaming jambalaya and he's a starving man who's been lost in the bayou with nothing to eat for several weeks. I slowly pull aside the crotch of my hot pants (the idea that I'm moving aside the "cunts" to reveal a cunt delights me--sorry, I'm just weird) and his eyes bug out when he sees that I'm completely shaved. It's the first time he's seen me like that. I am surprised too, at how very wet I am...

[We interrupt this story for an editorial remark: I, the writer, am also very wet at this point and rather surprised by it: I don't usually think of myself as getting off on cockteasing. It just isn't something that has a chance to, um, blossom much in our relationship. If I try to tease my master, I can get away with it for about five minutes, max, before I'm suddenly getting very sore and wishing that I hadn't.]

I start to play with myself as I watch him getting more and more excited, seeing both the actions on the tape and the action below the tape. I occasionally turn my head backwards to catch a glimpse of what's happening on the screen, so I can comment on it. "Oh wow, look at the humiliating position they've tied that woman in! She can't hide anything!" "Look what they're putting in her bottom--how does she take that?" "Wow, what a mean whipping! Look at those stripes up and down her back, and look at the way she's bucking and wiggling, trying to get away. But the poor thing has nowhere to run. That looks like so much fun! I wish I were her." Suddenly my husband gasps hard and quickly pulls his hand away from himself. Just in time, too! He's leaking a little from the tip. I continue to play with myself in front of him, faster and faster, and have a huge orgasm. "Oooo, that felt so GOOD!" I say. He then gives me a very mean look. I swear, he did! My sweet and wonderful Peter looked at me meanly!

We manage to get through the night. Well, he does, anyway. I have a wonderful deep sleep! The next day is Saturday and we go to see the zoo. It's ridiculous to live in a city famous for it's zoo for over two years without seeing it. I wear a flirty little sundress with a short flared skirt, sandals, and nothing on underneath it. There's a brisk wind blowing that day, so I manage to accidentally-on-purpose flash poor Peter--and a few other folks who just happened to be there--quite a few times. One of the strangers who catches my skirt being blown up tells Peter what a lucky guy he is, and Peter gives _him_ a mean look! Heeheheheheheee!

When we get home, Peter starts to talk about all the things (some of them not very nice) that he's going to do to me when the game is finished. I especially like the one where he's going to pinch my nipples till I start to scream and then keep pinching them for another ten minutes. "That is, if I LET you!" I tell him pertly, and with a shit-eating grin. All right!!! Another mean look!!! (Wish there was someone else around in this story whom I could high-five.)

I let my poor dear frustrated partner alone for the rest of the evening, but late that night when he goes out to return the tapes, I am suddenly struck with a brilliant idea. We bought this really cool sleigh bed from a furniture store last year that we couldn't really afford because I loved it so much. The corners of the sleigh have lion's heads on them which face inwards toward the mattress and in each lion's mouth is affixed a large brass ring. I quickly strip then pull two pairs of metal handcuffs and two pairs of leg cuffs (they look like the handcuffs, only the holes are larger) out of the place that I've been hiding them from Peter. I also take out the keys and toss them on the carpet a few feet from the bed. I then quickly cuff my ankles and wrists, one set of cuffs to each limb. I attach the other end of each leg cuff to one of the brass rings at the foot of the bed, and the other ends of the arm cuffs to the rings at the head of the bed. The last cuff is really tricky: I'm kind of stretched out already and so I have to throw it several times till the open cuff hooks onto the ring. Then my stretching my hand as far as it will go I manage to close the cuff. I'm stretched out tight on the bed, with no way to get out of the cuffs. What an interesting experiment this should be! I wait for Mr. Peter to get home.

I hear the door open and then slam, downstairs. I hear him walking around the house, then a few minutes later he yells, "Honey, where are you?" "I'm up here," I yell back, "And I think I'm stuck! Could you come help me?" I collapse into giggles, and that's how he finds me, completely spread out, buck naked, and giggling uncontrollably. "The keys are on the floor, in front of you!" I gasp between laughter, "could you get me out of this, please?" He folds his arms and stares at me, and the look he's wearing now is _really_ mean, and he's smiling a little too, which makes it all the worse. "Remember the rules!" I tell him, a little alarm creeping in past the hilarity. Without a word, he picks up the keys, uncuffs me, and goes downstairs to watch TV. What a spoilsport! I think. But I have to admit, I admire his self-control and determination.

The last day of our "game" passes uneventfully, which just a little visual and tactile teasing from me. He's hard constantly, now, I notice with satisfaction. As the ending hour draws near, I think of what I'm going to do next, if he tries to jump me, like I expect. I decide I'll feign a headache and giggle to myself. No harm in pushing this on another day. A half hour before "that" time, I am in the kitchen doing the dishes. I hear him walk in behind me and just stand there, about an inch away from my back, but not touching me. So I stick my buns out and bump him in the crotch a couple of times. Mmmm! That always feels so good! Suddenly, I feel one large arm going round my waist, and the other roughly grabbing my breasts and squeezing hard. "Hey!" I say indignantly, "There's still twenty more minutes before the game ends! You're breaking the rules!"

"Fuck the rules," he says, in a tone of voice I've never heard him use before. It sends shivers up my spine. I start to struggle, but I can't get away from him. This makes me mad: "How dare you!" I say. "Let me go this instant!"

"No."

The End