Red Handed

I had to stop for a while. I got caught. I wrote about it, as best I can remember. It’s not the most exciting story, but, looking back on it, it makes me hot.

As I’ve mentioned before, my wife is not into bondage. She doesn’t like being tied up, she refuses to tie me up, she doesn’t want to look at pictures or movies, and she sure as hell doesn’t want to talk about it. She wasn’t always this way. She used to like bondage. Right up until the day we got married.

So, that has left me on my own, so to speak. I have a collection of cuffs and clamps, and a few homemade ball gags. A lot of the stuff I have collected privately since I got married, and every once in a while I get an afternoon or a night alone, and I have a private session.

Most guys I know, when their wife goes away for a weekend, get slicked up and head to the bar. But not me. I take the opportunity to spend a weekend bound and gagged, experimenting with timers and other homemade gadgets.

I began experimenting with ice timers about a year ago after joining an Internet self-bondage club, and I have had some exciting times with them. Two strings in a small cake of ice, one tied to the ceiling, one hanging down, holding the keys to my hand and leg cuffs. I would put my cock and balls in some restrictive clothing, strap in a ball gag, and then lie there beneath the melting ice, my arms and legs cuffed securely in a hog tie.

It would usually take about 45 minutes till the keys fell and I could get free. That was about all I could take before my jaw and my shoulders began to really ache. I would finish the session jerking off, covering my stomach and hands with cum. It became less exciting as time went on, but I felt safe with the 45 minutes, so I experimented with increased restriction on my genitals.

Last July, I had an opportunity to be alone for a weekend so I decided to up the excitement with a butt plug. I was not sure how I would fare, so I put a spare set of handcuff keys in the hallway outside my office in the basement. My wife had taken the kids to the beach for the weekend and wouldn’t be back till Sunday, so I got started early Saturday morning.

I showered, put on some tight panties and tried to take my time, but I was just too excited. I went to the basement and hung my keys and the ice block from the ceiling. I cuffed my legs and hung a set of cuffs from the chain. I locked another cuff onto one hand. Then I rolled over onto my stomach and went to work with the butt plug. I greased myself up and turned on the vibrator, but it still took a good five minutes to work it in. Then I pulled on a pair of panty hose with a hole cut in the front for my cock and balls. I figured that I wouldn’t be able to get at the butt plug to remove it because the panty hose were pulled up so high, and they were too tight to pull off without grabbing the waist band with both hands.

My head was spinning at this point, and I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly, because after I put my ball gag in, I rolled over onto my back and began to jerk off. I knew what I wanted to do, but I also knew it would take discipline. I was going to roll my body up into a ball, with my legs in the air, and then cum all over my face. Afterwards I would roll back over onto my stomach and lock my hands behind me, and hog-tie myself. Then I was going to lie there for 30 minutes or so until my keys fell.

I knew the hardest part would be making myself lock my hands behind me. Once I’ve cum, I usually lose interest in being restrained and start trying to get free (and my biggest fantasy is having someone who would keep me bound after I’ve cum and wanted to get free). I knew I had the set of keys in the hallway in case I wanted to get loose. But I also knew if I hesitated, I wouldn’t go through with it.

So I lay on my back, stroking my cock, dreaming about being dominated by a stern, yet sensual mistress. It was a good fantasy… I was going to have to suck her boyfriend’s cock before she would let me taste her pussy. And when I got ready to cum, I rolled my body and my legs up in the air and showered hot gobs of cum all over my face. I felt a large glob land in my eye and I was afraid to open it.

And as soon as I stopped Cumming, I made myself roll over onto my stomach and lock the cuffs behind me. I was huffing and puffing from the exertion, but I forced myself to keep going. I was going to lie there like a dominated little cum slut until the keys fell. I pulled my ankles up behind my back, caught the cuff hanging from the leg chain with my hands, and clipped it around my handcuff chain.

Then I relaxed. Or tried to. It took about five minutes till my breathing returned to normal, and it took about another ten, until I began to regain my senses. One eye was stuck shut (that was cool) and the butt plug was starting to irritate me (which wasn’t cool) so I decided I would wriggle out into the hallway and get my spare keys.

And that’s when I heard my wife’s voice behind me.

“You perverted bastard,” she said. “So this is what you do when I’m not here?”

I must have been a sight. Panty hose and panties, butt plug, arms and legs cuffed behind my back, a ball gag which, like the rest of my face, was covered with drying cum.

She looked down at me with a mixture of pity and disgust. “Un-fuckin-believable” was all she said, and she walked out of the room and up the stairs.

I was absolutely stunned. I was scared. And I was really ready to be out of bondage. I started to wriggle around to head toward the keys in the hallway when she came back down the stairs.

I lay there as she surveyed the scene a second time. “Are you waiting for these to fall?” she said as she pointed to my keys hanging from the ceiling. My answer was a muffled yes. She sort of snickered and grabbed them, pulling them from the ceiling. “You are a fucking pervert,” she said, but this time she sounded less angry. She untied the keys and put them in her pocket. Then she got a mischievous look on her face. She knelt over me and pulled the band on the panty hose up and stuffed the ice down between my ass cheeks.

“How’s that feel?” she asked. “Does that make it feel better?” she asked. I made some noises into the ball gag and she laughed.

“So this is what you really want, huh?” she said, and stood up. “Fucking amazing.”

Then she walked out of the room, but came back in a second and said, “Are these your spare keys in the hall?” I nodded. “I’m taking them too. Have fun!”

She was right, of course. This was what I really wanted. Helpless, unable to get free. But not like this. She was pissed off. I don’t think she was going to go pack my shit and put it out on the street. But she wasn’t going to just let this drop. She was going to punish me for this. And the punishment had started.

It was quiet upstairs. She was probably on the Internet looking up bondage and other perversions in some psychology web site, reading about why her husband was such a perverted bastard that he had to tie himself up to get his jollies.

I, on the other hand, had problems of my own. It had been 45 minutes. It was time to get free. My ass was burning from the butt plug. It was on a high speed and was really starting to drive me nuts. My jaw was hurting from the ball gag. My shoulders were starting to ache too. And there was nothing I could do but lay there. I tried working on the panty hose, to get them down so I could get the plug out of my ass, but it really hurt my arms.

I was really uncomfortable, and I was now in a lot of pain. I’m not sure how long I lay there, but I was getting scared. Ball gags aren’t supposed to be left in for an hour - at least not big ones like I was using. And the cuffs were digging in to my wrists and ankles. I slowly started wriggling toward to basement stairs. It took a while, and by the time I got there, I had tears in my eyes. I tried yelling through the gag and almost choked.

I waited. And waited. And waited. And finally, I lost control. I began to cry, and I peed my pants. The puddle spread around my crotch, making me even more uncomfortable.

I was lying there, whimpering into my ball gag when she finally came back downstairs. She was still in the mood to teach me a lesson, but she could see it had crossed the line into cruelty at this point so she took some pity on me. She held out the keys. “Can you unlock yourself?” she asked.

I cried and shook my head. “Would you like me to untie you?”

I sobbed and nodded my head as best I could. She was in no hurry. She fiddled with the keys (she never was any good with them) before finally unlocking my feet. I lay there a while longer while she worked with the handcuffs until my right arm finally came free.

“Do you want some help with that ball in you mouth?” she asked. I nodded. I couldn’t move my arms. She undid the buckle behind my head but my jaw was locked and I couldn’t push the ball out with my tongue. I think she was starting to feel sorry for me now and she slowly pulled it out of my mouth. I closed my jaw and swallowed for the first time in hours.

She sat back on the steps and watched me slowly moving. “I have to take this butt plug out”, I moaned.

“Go take a shower and clean up”, she said. “Then we need to talk”.

I sat in the shower for about 40 minutes before getting dressed. I was stiff and sore, and I knew she was waiting for me with a lecture. We talked a lot that afternoon and evening. It was two weeks until she let me make love to her again. And no, she is not going to change her “no bondage” stance.

I suppose she may think I’ve quit. I threw some of the stuff away, but I hid the cuffs and the ball gag. And if she understood bondage at all, she’d have known that I would. If you love bondage, if you need to feel it… you may quit… but not for long.

So I’m back. And maybe someday, I’ll find someone who will understand what I need so I don’t have to go it alone.

2001