Because She Loves Me….

“I’m back. Did you miss me?” my bride asks upon her return.

“Yes Ma’am.”

“I don’t believe you, look, your dick is soft, it should be hard if you were thinking about me and my return. I think you would want me to punish him for it, and I don’t want to disappoint you on your birthday, so I will” she says with unexpected glee in her voice. My girl that did all this planning is emotionally in the game. She is also still dressed in her dominatrix outfit, so I assume, wrongly, that my cock is about to be whipped. She has something else planned instead. She has brought some items with her from the house. First is a battery powered lantern that she eventually places between my legs. She also has some kind of concoction in a jar. She decides I should know what it is.

“This is moth bait. I found the recipe online. It’s made from way-overripe bananas, brown sugar, molasses, and a little beer. I made it thin enough to spread, but thick enough that it won’t run off. I read it’s best if the mixture ferments for a few days and because you only deserve the best, I made sure that it has.” This is another example of how much planning and work she has put into my birthday gift, and with bondage play not being her thing, I’m surprised and pleased to think she is having fun with at least some of it as she is getting ready to do something unique and kinky or at least it seems that way. I am not fully clear about what she is about to do but I will find out quickly.

She smothers my cock and balls with the goop. She then puts the lantern up close to my sack and turns it on. “The light should attract moths and then they should go after the bait. I hope they will tickle the hell out of you as they seek the bait on your dick. To ease your mind, moths don’t have teeth or mouths, but they do flutter about. You should have some fun, I think. Then again, there was no mention in the article of what else this coating might attract. Shame you are tied down and can’t defend yourself.  I’m going to be on the pool deck, reading. I would suggest you holler out if you need anything but then you might attract the attention of more than just me, so maybe you should just deal with whatever that shit entices. I think with all the work that went into this you should endure it for an hour. What do you think?” “Whatever pleases you, Ma’am” is a submissive’s appropriate reply and it is mine.

I don’t know what to think about this latest folly. I’m not thrilled about it, and a touch of anxiety sets in. I ponder on who might have thought up this moth stunt. It doesn’t matter. Not anything I can do about it but wait and see. It takes a little time, but the crazy idea works. Moths are attracted to the light. Our pool area is a natural lure, and it seems happy to share its population. And her magic sauce does its job too. They fly around and crawl over my dick. It does stiffen. They like my balls too. And it tickles, just like she suggested, in an annoying, irritating way, and it itches, and I can’t scratch it. The light also draws a small quantity of fireflies and some kind of flying beetles. These have prickly feet and mouths, they don’t just tickle me as they crawl over my coating. And all my visitors didn’t keep to just my dick and balls. They fluttered and crawled up and down my limbs and torso and I have no capability of brushing them away. Exasperating, maddening. I just want to rub my arms and legs.  A very creative form of abuse. I’m a submissive tonight; I am to take whatever amuses my mistress.

The moths have been teasing me for maybe a half hour when she comes back and says, “I can’t believe how well this is working. Are you OK? Do you need it to stop?”

“I’m OK Ma’am, thank you for checking on me.”

“Well OK then, let’s see if you can handle it for the whole hour or longer entertaining our flying friends” And she walks away again. I had lied to her trying to preserve the night. This irritating teasing of my skin is driving me nuts. It’s a severe form of tickling, a relentless bound tickling, the worst kind. I’m curious about what my state of mind will be by the time the hour is up. The butt electro-play she had served up is an abuse that I am used to from my recent BDSM experiences. The ginger burning in my rectum is now a memory other than the space the plug takes up inside me. This is different, its playful, inventive, mostly harmless quasi-sexual abuse that may well get the best of me. Well played girl.

I have no way of tracking the time, so I didn't know that the hour had long passed. I had the moths and other bugs pestering me for more than an hour and a half. I didn’t go insane, I hadn’t been visited by other animals, and the lotion has been keeping the mosquitoes at bay. I had survived by my own mind control blocking out the torment as I concentrated on the bondage and my fantasies. “Sorry I was late, but I got really interested in the book I was reading, and I had another call with Mike, he can be so chatty. Let’s get that sticky stuff off of you,” she says. She has a wet rag and removes the goop from my privates, and she turns the lantern off.  “Let’s see if I got it all” she says as she goes down on me.

As I have said, she gives amazing blow jobs. And she is very good at maintaining control of me. She can bring me close to the brink numerous times, backing me down before resuming. I’m not abundant in size, like my good friend Mike is, and while he teases me about our compatible sizes, I’m not a shorty either. She can take all of me and is proud that she can deep throat me. I’m just not allowed to cum in her mouth and I have always respected that. “That’s enough for now. It’s past midnight and I wanted to do something special because it is now officially your birthday. I’ll be right back; I need to get something from the house.” It’s been one heck of a day and already a long night. And I assume it’s not going to be over for a while yet.

She returns and I see she has balloons, a lot of them, twelve to be precise. Large birthday themed helium filled mylar balloons. She must have been to the dollar store. She has them secure to a weight of some sort and sets them down beside me. “Happy birthday Toy!” She also has something else. “Do you recognize these?” she asks. I do; they are a pair of latching lockdown metal nipple clamps. They are a pretty severe set of clamps. You see them used a lot on heavy BDSM porn sites on the women.

I respond, “Yes Ma’am”

“Do you remember you gave them to me in our secret stocking for Christmas years ago? You were really excited to use them. It was back when you were still doing me, not me doing you. And for New Years you took me upstairs to the attic to play. You stretched me out, my arms over my head and my feet spread wide just like you were today. You put a leather hood and a blow-up gag on me. Another new accessory we hadn’t played with before. Then you put these on. You put strings on them and tied them off to hooks you had in the studs pulling hard on my crushed nipples. They were extremely painful when they went on and they were worse when you tied them off. You left them on till you were done vibrating me with a magic wand till I had a forced climax and then screwing me. You couldn’t tell I was in tears and pain because of the hood and gag. I hid the clamps afterward so you couldn’t use them on me again. I think you should try them, so you know what they feel like. Are you okay with that?” 

I honestly never knew she had suffered. She doesn’t mind some pain/pleasure play but apparently, I had unknowingly gone way past that. What could I say but, “Yes Ma’am, I’m okay with that, it’s fair.”

She was dead right. These clamps are excruciating going on. They lock down hard on the nipples. Thankfully, she captured all of the nipple and some of the meat behind it on both sides. If she had caught just the tips it would have likely been unbearable. God, I hope that isn’t what had happened to her. What she did next was ingenious. She tied three of the balloons to each clamp, which pulled the clamps upright. She then tied four balloons to the tip of my dick, looping the ribbons around the shaft just below my dick’s head and finishing them off with a bow. It too was pulled skyward. “I was going to tie the last two balloons to your sack, but I think I’ll put one more balloon on each of your clamps.” And she did. My nipples numbed out quickly and the initial pain is mostly gone.  The balloons on the other hand are swaying in the light breeze tugging not so gently on my hurting nipples.

I’m alone again. She has gone back to the house. This time for what seems like a substantial amount of time. I have had a long day. While my abuse has been certainly less than my BDSM experiences with the guys, being in bondage tied tight and straining against the bonds wears the body out. I noticed that the stars that were shining bright had begun to disappear as had the three-quarters moon that was lighting the sky when I was first tied down. There are clouds rolling in. And with the clouds there is a growing breeze. A breeze that blows against the balloons making them collide as they dance. More clouds, more wind. More tugging and twisting. This is abusing my nipples, I try to simply ignore it, but that is hard. My tired body wants to drift off to sleep but the balloon action is getting even more active and won’t let me. I hear some distant thunder. There’s going to be rain. Isolated rainstorms are common in North Carolina. They are often in the forecast. She knows there was to be one tonight and she adjusted her plans accordingly. For instance, she told me later that I was originally going to have the nipple clamps put on in the attic reenacting what was done to her. I was tied up the same way, but she decided the balloons, wind and rain would be more fun. She has returned “I don’t think the lightning is going to bother us. We will play in the rain. I’ve changed into my bathing suit, so we’ll be fine. Well, I’ll be fine. You, not so much.”

It took a good twenty minutes to a half hour for the rain to come. The balloons were having a heyday in the winds, and my nipples and even my dick were suffering for it. This was far worse than the streamer that was tied to my dick when I was up the flagpole in Vegas. The lightning had gotten closer than I would have preferred. A lifeguard would have cleared the pool. I was pondering hard if helium mylar balloons draw lightning. The rain started lightly but then turned into one of our common North Carolina downpours. As I said, she knew all day that the storm was predicted. So, she was ready to abuse me with it too, as if the balloons being pelted by rain and blowing about wasn’t enough. She has brought our Jennings dental gag with her, has me open my mouth wide and then ratchets it until my teeth cannot close. Then she lays a cotton dishtowel over my face and tucks it in under my head which remains tent pegged to the ground. And she waits for the storm to do its thing. The sprinkles turn to rain, to a heavy downpour. As you can imagine, the cloth soaks up the water as it comes down and I am being waterboarded.

Unlike San Diego where this didn’t phase me. I’m starting to suffocate from the wet drowning effect of the cloth. I suck as hard as I can through the water-soaked cloth to breathe, but to no avail. What I pull in is vapor saturated air. The lungs revolt.  I try to shake the cloth off, but my secured head won’t allow success. I don’t know it, but she is kneeling just above my head, watching me closely, when she thinks I am out of breath she lifts up an edge, giving me a needed breath before tucking it back in for another round. I think I suffered through five or six rounds before she grew tired of this and removed the cloth, still leaving the gag in so that I had the rain fall into my open mouth. She has tied me on a slight incline, but my still relatively flat position made my swallowing of the accumulated water difficult and so when she noticed I was stressed, she released the gag. “Thank you, Ma’am, I was starting to get into trouble there.”

The rainstorm passed by as is common here. My balloons are removed and retied to the weight she brought that held them when she first brought them down. They would be taken back inside and displayed around the house for the next week or two as a reminder of my birthday ordeal. Next off were the clamps. That was tough, they had been on for a long time, constantly being twisted and pulled as they held on tight to my nipples. Probably too long for the type they were. She was kind, gently massaging my aching nips. They will hurt for a while. The temperature has dropped. I’m not cold but not warm either as my wet body begins to dry. I worry about losing body heat to the ground.  With all the rain and the water I drank before being brought outside, I need to pee badly. “Ma’am, I need to pee.” 

“Toy, you’re a boy toy. Boys pee outside all the time. I’m not letting you up. Just pee on yourself or hold it. Your choice.” I decided to hold it.

She leaves with the balloons. I lay there thinking this is a good time to try to sleep, but my mind is active. I ponder the day; how wonderful it has been. How wonderful my wife was. I think of Mike’s participation. I know he helped. Bondage and BDSM isn’t his big thing either. I keep hoping this isn’t a one-time thing with my wife. I want her to have had enough fun to have a desire to do some of this a little more often. Or if it is only once a year for my birthday, do it on an equally grand scale as today. I finally fell asleep. I’m not sure for how long but I wake up with a hard on and the urgent need to go. I was out of options; I couldn’t hold it anymore. And so, I peed. The way I was tied and with my dick still rigid, the pee went up and back down onto me and on the grass on both sides of each leg. She obviously had been sitting there watching me sleep because I was then immediately flogged across my privates with her saying, “You pig, peeing in front of me and all over yourself. No class, Toy. And I’m not cleaning you up, you’ll wear it until it dries.” Now, I am not in Vegas where the flogging would have been extremely intense. She was flogging me for real, but with a loving woman’s touch. The swings were easily absorbed with minimal pain.

“I still think he hasn’t learned his lesson. This might do it,” she tells me setting the stage for my next adventure in the grass. She has my new electro power box and some of its accessories. This time it will be used on my cock. She is back on the phone and is getting instructions. First is about putting electro-bands around my shaft, one just below the head and one just above the base. I won’t be subject to random programing like I received inside. This time it will be program specifically designed to excite the dick, bringing it up to near climax then zapping it back down into submission. Repeating this sequence over and over. The initial stroking program is amazingly stimulating, building slowly, but growing in glorious intensity. My heart is beating so hard I can feel it in my chest, my breathing rapid and shallow. Then bam, bam, bam and I have lost the excitement. We are back to ground zero. I am almost afraid that if I do climax, she will keep the program running and I’ll be milked and tormented into insanity with no way to stop it.

“It’s fun to watch you being taken to the brink, then denied. It is how I feel when you over vibrate me. Those wonderful feelings turn to annoying frustration and irritation,” she tells me. Her summation is on the mark. “I like that I don’t have to do any work and yet I’m getting credit for driving you up to total ecstasy and back down to misery. You make such funny facial expressions and body movements. It is like you are having a personal war inside, one moment you look like you are euphoric and the next moment fighting at your bonds like you are being tortured. Yet you keep coming back to a smile that looks like you have never been happier, that your inner sole is contented, happiness that I feel I’d be wrong to stop.”

In time she does stop it. Then steps away. I lay there trying to recover from my latest ordeal. I think that dawn will be coming soon when my thoughts are interrupted by a warm wet cloth being rubbed over my privates. “I’ve changed my mind; I want more sex with my bound Toy before sunrise and I’m not licking and fucking a urine covered body.”  I get a nice hand bath. I also worry that my penis has been so over sensitized by the long electro stimulation session that her handling me will be agony. I again won’t have a choice. I am hers to be used sexually as she wants.