TRIGGER WARNINGS: Simulated Rape, Pain (1 drop blood), Male Bi/Gay, MaleDom, FemDom, Family (no incest), Consensual Non-Consent, and Sex Work (idealized) The only coercion is from a sense of duty to family. All over 18.
Credits: Edited by the 'Erotic Confectioners. Many thanks to Onyx03, Grrl Orc, Jasmine27, and allnitediner as well as others for editing this story.
Note: Nine chapters total. Each chapter switches tense in the middle. I was experimenting with that as a way to increase pace. The chapter names just happened.
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THE LOCK, 1: GO
Waking my wife by slipping my hand between her legs, finding her wet and willing, and then pushing fingers and eventually my cock into her is such a joy. She is a sexual submissive, and loves to please me in bed. But more than that, she is turned on by non-consensual sex; by being used sexually, as we discovered at our very first meeting. Her biggest turn on comes from her own agreement to be used sexually by me in a way she doesn't initiate or even necessarily want or enjoy otherwise.
She would never ask for or want to have anal sex; but if I tell her I intend to "take your ass," she is suddenly wet and ready to spread her cheeks. And she likes it better if it's a little humiliating.
She enjoys being used for sex, not so much the sex itself. This was difficult for me to accept, but as time has passed, I've allowed myself to let go and just enjoy it. I've become sure that it really is what she wants.
But lately, when I push my hand between her legs in the morning, or anytime really, more and more often she just closes her legs and pushes my hand away. And I don't force it; I don't have any desire to use force. That would be wrong. Aside from a couple of weird fantasies I'm rather ashamed of, the very last thing I want to do is hurt her. It makes me sad that life has a way of forcing us; of backing us into corners where we must make difficult choices.
The interesting thing is that after rejecting me, she looks at me with guilt and lust in her eyes, and we end up having sex anyway. She often slips herself into handcuffs, locks herself to our headboard to recreate our first meeting, in which I had no choice but to violate her intimately to reach the handcuff key and release her.
Lately, she has been asking me to lock her up. She forces me into the role of the bad guy instead of her rescuer-not as it actually was when we met.
That's a long story involving a dirty alleyway, handcuffs on a fence, and a diaphragm with the key to the handcuffs above it, inside her. The key was placed there by her rather uncouth ex-husband who was also her gynecologist. After their divorce he took the money from the sale of his practice and their home to run off with his mistress . Putting the key inside her and locking her in the alley before they left was apparently an idea from his lover's twisted mind.
Fishing the key out of her vagina and releasing her became my task by random chance and led to a rather surprising discovery for her: She loved being "violated." Since then, the key is metaphorical, and just fingering her or having sex while she is locked up brings her great joy. That act can put her in a very lovely, grateful, submissive state where she becomes my willing sexual partner.
But she is less and less into that game and more and more into... something else. Something more. Something that frightens me.
As this year has come to a close, her excuses have become increasingly desperate and less convincing. Always with some truth to them: enough to make them plausible, but not enough to be believable.
"I'm worried about the upcoming vote, and I just need you to take control." She begs.
My wife is on our city council and has been preparing to run for mayor. Despite being an immigrant from the old country she won the respect of people in her district and was easily elected to her council seat. Many people have called for her to seek the higher office. She is a woman of distinction and well respected in our community. She owns several businesses and runs them like a Swiss watch. But even that has changed.
I think the real problem is money. Not that we are hurting. My own business is still chugging along, although it is decreasing as more and more people order online. Brick and mortar is not the place to be these days. Her businesses are doing well, in part because she wisely focused on the service sector, but also because of her unbelievable level of effort in managing them. Also, as her sex drive has changed, her work drive has increased. Her employees have been increasingly grumbling about how hard she pushes them. They would never believe that she enjoys being tied up and used; instead they've started muttering about her being a slave driver.
She started keeping a card on the bathroom wall with the balance of our savings account and other liquid assets. She would stare at it in the morning. As things have gone downhill in our bedroom, the expression on her face when she looks at that card in the bathroom becomes increasingly fearful. That doesn't make sense, because that account is fat. We are packing money away. Mostly thanks to her.
Something is wrong. And she won't tell me what it is.
At first I thought she was saving for a vacation or to start a new business or something like that. Or a trip to the old country. She stays in contact with her extended family in her native country. She calls her mother and father every day, and has video chats online with her cousins, nephews and nieces. She writes letters, the ink on paper sort, and mails them to grandparents and older relatives who are not comfortable with computers. Family is everything to her, and she is a dutiful and loyal daughter. We have talked about going to visit for me to meet her family in person. They have only gotten to know me through the occasional video chat. She has said she would love to introduce me, "if we can afford it" despite there being more than enough in savings for many trips.
Now I'm worried that she secretly owes the mob and the loan is coming due. Or something else just as bad.
I've been seeing guilt on her face when she looks at me-fear and guilt. Last week when I was horny and sort of pushing her to have sex with me, she asked me to hurt her. That was new. She wanted me to spank her while I entered her from behind. I'm really not a violent man and I have never been into BDSM but I have to admit it turned me on. She really seemed to love it. Lots of "Yes! Harder!" and "Oh, spank me, I'm so bad." It was like a bad porn fantasy, but good. That freaked me out even more.
