Still No Escape for Hubby

This story is sequel to 'No Escape For Hubby'

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Narelle and her husband David were a typical middle-aged couple living in a middle-class house in a middle-class suburb. Their income was average, they looked average, their existence was, well, average.

Narelle needed to ask a favour from her next-door neighbours, Diana and Chris. She strolled from her house to theirs in her ordinary blue jeans, pink tee-shirt, and white tennis shoes. Friends in this part of the world didn't knock on each other's front doors, so she let herself through the side gate and approached the sliding glass door on the side of the house. There was no-one around, so she let herself in.

"Yoo-hoo! Anyone around? It's only Narelle!"

She wandered into the living room.

She stopped.

She stared.

She kept staring.

There, sitting on the living room floor with his back against a pillar, was Chris. He was naked apart from a lot of rope which had been used to tie him tightly to said pillar. There was a wide strip of black plastic which went across his mouth and was buckled behind his head. A rope around his ankles was pulled tight to another pillar in front of him, keeping his legs straight on the floor. His knees were tied together with some sort of silk, or at least silk lookalike, cord.

He stared back at her, unable to do anything else.

She gulped.

"Greetings N. How's things?"

Narelle nearly jumped into the ceiling. Her attention had been so focused on the scene on the floor, she had failed to notice Diana walking up behind her.

"I... er... ah...," she stammered. "I... just... I just... er... I didn't mean to... ah..."

Diana was wearing a pale blue silky bathrobe, white stockings, and, rather obviously, nothing else. The bathrobe happened to be the same colour as the thing around Chris's knees, and appeared to be missing its cord. She stood in a pose that suggested slight impatience.

"Yes? C'mon woman, out with it. What's up?"

Narelle pulled herself together just enough to say, "Um... Dave and I are going away next weekend... um... to visit his brother, and, um... we were wondering if you could, er... keep an eye on the house while we're gone? Um."

"Of course. No probs. He lives in the high country, doesn't he, D's brother? It should be nice there at this time of year."

"Yes. Er... that's what we're hoping. Um... right. I'll be... er... going then. Um. Yes, I'll just be going...". Narelle stayed where she was, as if paralysed. A small detached part of her brain was thinking, 'Stockings? Why the hell is she wearing stockings? Nobody wears stockings these days.'

Diana cocked an eyebrow. "Is there anything else?"

"No, no. Er... nothing else. Um... I'll just be..."

"You might be wondering why I have my husband bound and gagged on my living room floor."

"As a matter of fact, since you mention it..."

"It's for sex, obviously."

"Obviously." In fact, it wasn't obvious to Narelle at all, so that was a feeble attempt at sarcasm. Diana went on regardless.

"Since I've been on my medication, I've had a hugely increased sex-drive. This wouldn't have been a problem thirty years ago, but now he can't keep up. He runs out of petrol while I'm still in overdrive." She began using her toes to stroke gently along the outside of his thigh as she spoke. He moaned quietly through the gag. "So I have to tie him up so I can keep using him until I'm satisfied. I know it's painful for him, towards the end, but it's fun to feel him squirm and struggle as I ride him. And after all, he's my husband, so it's his duty to satisfy me no matter what."

Narelle's face took on a look of even greater shock. "You mean... you take him against his will? But... but... That's spousal rape!"

Diana widened her eyes. She put her hands next to her face, palms outwards. "Spousal rape? Spousal rape!? Oh noes! Goodness me, I mustn't commit spousal rape!"

"I was actually being serious..."

"Listen here, Little Miss European Court Of Human Rights, do you see that thing between his legs doing a flagpole impression? Do you truly believe any jury in the land would fail to laugh a rape charge out of court?"

"That's not really the point..." Narelle looked and confirmed that Chris was, in fact, sporting a rather large and hard erection. She was sure it hadn't been there when she came in.

"Anyway," Diana went on, "it can't be rape, because all he has to do is say no."

Narelle looked at the wide plastic strap covering Chris's mouth. She had been going to ask why he was gagged, but it now seemed a stupid question. Before she could point out what the civilised world would think of Diana's logic if the male and female roles were reversed, her friend continued.

"And, as I said, it's his duty. If he can't give me what I need, I have a right to take it anyway. If he doesn't want the pain, he should get himself some better staying power." She moved her toes to the inside of his thighs, stroking slowly upwards. His moans became a little louder.

"I don't think that's legally true." Narelle's voice was becoming a bit steadier as the initial shock wore off. "Or morally. You should have more respect for your partner than that. You know, some mutual give and take."

"Hah! Mutual give and take, you reckon? Is that how your marriage works? You and D in perfect harmony, are you?" Her toes had reached the base of her husband's penis. They continued their upward journey.

"Well, maybe not perfect, but as a matter of fact..."

"Never been any times when one of you has done all the giving while the other just takes, have there?" Her toes moved along the shaft.

"No! Of course not. I mean, no relationship's perfect, but we've never..." Narelle suddenly paused. She considered. Something about what Diana had just said scored a hit on her brain. "Actually," she went on, "now that you mention it like that..."

"Yes?"

"When we were younger... Sometimes, when he was really randy but I wasn't all that keen, I'd... you know... make an effort for him. Because I wanted to keep him happy. But now we're a bit more... mature... sometimes I'm all keen as mustard, and he just brushes me off. Or we have a session in bed, and when I'm worked up ready for a second round, he rolls over and goes to sleep." There was a brief pause before she finished with, "It doesn't seem fair."

"Exactly. Not fair at all. You need to stand up for your rights. I've got some spare rope and cable-ties if want them." Diana's toes had reach the glans. She wiggled them around. The moans went up in pitch.

"No thank you, I don't... Hold on. Cable-ties? What cable-ties?"

"Oh, you can't see them because his hands are behind his back, but they're what I use to tie his wrists together. Great for a quick capture, and utterly escape-proof. You just have to be sure to use the extra wide ones designed for industrial duct work. If you use the ordinary narrow ones, they'll cut his hands off. Or at least, they will if you tie them as tightly as I do." She grinned and added, "The bloke at the hardware shop probably wonders why a woman like me needs so many. Are you sure you don't want some?"

"I'll think about it."

Narelle watched as Diana continued to tickle her husband's penis with her toes. Chris was a good looking man for his age. Very good looking. There might have been a few extra hamburgers on his waistline compared to his youth, but that didn't detract from Narelle's opinion that he was, in fact, a bit of a spunk. Now the sight of him squirming and moaning was starting to trigger morally dubious thoughts. Words like 'helpless' and 'at her mercy' scooted unstoppably across her mind. Despite the cool day she was starting to feel a bit warm.

Diana took the teasing up another notch, wiggling her toes faster.

Narelle noticed there was a strange dichotomy between Chris's obviously heightened state of arousal and the way he was straining against his bonds. His movements - such as they were, considering he couldn't move very much - made it clear he was in significant discomfort.

"It looks like he doesn't like that very much," she ventured.

"Ha ha!" Diana laughed. "He has a problem. He knows that when the sex starts, he'll be able to keep up with me for a while, but as soon as he runs out of ammunition things will start to get painful for him. So he's desperately trying not to waste a precious cummy-cum on my little toesy-woseys." She locked eyes with her husband. "Isn't that right Hubby-wubby?"

A close observer might have noticed her breathing starting to shorten, her cheeks becoming flushed, and her pupils dilating.

A realisation struck Narelle. That's why her friend was wearing stockings. It was so she could use the touch of warm nylon to arouse him. And, unlike pantyhose, she wouldn't have to pause to take them off when she was ready to mount him.

This last thought was demonstrated almost immediately as, without warning, Diana dropped to her knees and straddled her husband's legs. She quickly moved up into his lap and began docking his equipment with hers. She spoke to Narelle without looking around.

"Sorry, but I have to take him now. Right now. It's the meds kicking in. I can't help it. You can stay and watch if you like."

"No, that's okay, I'll just... er.." But the paralysis hit her again. She remained riveted to the spot, unable to look away from the spectacle unfolding in front of her.

Diana went very fast at first, bouncing rapidly up and down with her arms wrapped around man and pillar. Chris, for his part, had his eyes clamped tightly shut and was obviously trying to hold out as long as possible.

It wasn't long before Diana arched her back and let out a series of very loud moans, bordering on screams. Narelle could see that Chris had not cum yet, which she thought was a pretty good effort, considering the state his wife had put him into before the humping had even started.

Diana slowed down, slumped against his chest, getting her breath back. But she didn't quite stop. Gradually, she built up speed, working towards her second orgasm.

He couldn't hold out any longer. The gag muffled his moans, but they were loud nevertheless. His body shuddered. Under normal circumstances he would have been gasping for breath, but with the gag blocking his mouth air pumped in and out through his nose like a bellows.

And that, thought Narelle, would be that. In all her experience, when the man came, the sex ended. His tackle would stay hard for a while, but he would immediately stop and if the woman tried to keep going, he would pull away. Full stop, end of story.

Except that this particular man, in this particular circumstance, couldn't pull away.

She watched in awe as Diana kept grinding away without mercy. And there wasn't a thing her husband could do about it except let out incoherent muffled cries, which she completely ignored.

Eventually Diana came for the second time. Like the first time, there was the back arch followed by the almost-screams, then the slump forwards. Unlike the first time, this time she slowly stopped grinding.

She turned her head and looked at Narelle through a mass of tousled sweat-soaked hair. She was still breathless as she spoke.

"You're still here?"

"Er, yes. Sorry. Um. Look, about those cable-ties and rope you offered..."

"Yes?"

"Ive thought about it. And where can I get one of those gags?"

Diana grinned a wicked grin.

And, thought Narelle, the European Court Of Human Rights can go and fuck itself.