I apologize in advance for the extreme length of today’s missive. I didn’t intend for it to go on and on like this, but there was too much to say!
As I mentioned the other day, Belle and I had a kid-free few days this past weekend. We celebrated by spending Friday night at a luxe downtown hotel with an on-premises spa.
We checked in and decided to grab a light dinner downstairs before retiring for the night. I had brought along a number of toys and accoutrement, but wasn’t too sure what would happen. I was locked in the Steelheart and Belle had just come the night before, so if it were any other run of the mill Friday night, nothing would have happened. I braced myself for that eventuality and had an alternate checklist of activities if she happened to fall asleep or something. I didn’t wonder if she was going to let me out because it’s a given that my normal condition is to be exactly as I was.
Back in the room, she wanted to lay on the bed and talk which was great because I like talking to her. She allowed me to go naked since it’s the state I prefer to be in when it’s an option. So there I was, naked with a big shiny thing where the dick usually is, with her snuggled under the covers in her jammies. And we talked.
At some point – and I’ll tell you right now that most of this evening is something of a blur for me so what you’re reading is my best approximation of the events – she mentioned that she planned on letting me out that night. She had already told me I would be out for the massage the next day, but as I said, I didn’t expect to be released before morning. Once she said it I knew I really wanted out. You just don’t say no to these kinds of opportunities. I expect I was not unlike an excited puppy from the time she mentioned it to the moment she let me out.
Back on the bed, now totally naked, she made it clear that I wasn’t to touch the merchandise. It was at this point that I started to get the idea that something was going to happen, though I had no idea what. She had previously said I wouldn’t come until the end of the year, but there’s a ton of stuff you can do besides that with a hard cock if you’re imaginative enough.
“What did you bring?” she asked.
I told her: the flogger, the bondage straps, nipple clamps, my collar, handcuffs (but not the key) and Mr. Darcy with his harness.
“Not Pink?” she asked, meaning her favorite vibrator.
“No, I couldn’t find it. I assumed you brought it.” It hadn’t been in it’s normal positon in my nightstand (handy for when she wants it), nor was it in hers.
“I didn’t bring it,” she said. Come to think of it, we need to figure out where that went. Anyway…
“Get the clamps and your collar.” A thrill of excitement when through me. She hardly ever collars me. “And the cuffs.”
I brought the collar over to her side of the bed and kneeled and dropped my head so she could buckle it behind my neck. A low subbie thrum started inside me.
Back in bed next to her, I asked if she had ever wanted to try the nipple clamps.
“No, I don’t like pain.”
“How do you know until you try?” I asked, “Maybe you could try it just for a second on one nipple.”
She pulled her top down so her right breast was exposed and she placed the clamp gingerly onto her plump, succulent nipple.
“OWW!!!!” she said. So much for that idea.
She griped about it for another five minutes or so before attaching a clip to my left nipple. Then she strung the other through the ring on my collar and clipped it onto my right nipple. Then she pulled. And pulled and pulled. And the cock rose accordingly.
“You are so weird,” she said.
“I know,” I replied as the cock twitched and surged.
She snapped the handcuffs around my left wrist.
“You have the keys, right?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“You sure? Because this’ll be hard to explain during the massage tomorrow.”
She got up and got the keys to the handcuffs, showed them to me, and then placed them on her nightstand before closing the cuffs around my right wrist. They were tight, digging into me. Every movement caused them to bite harder.
Collared, clamped, and cuffed. I slipped a little deeper into my headspace. She teased me by running her fingers around the throbbing cock, over my balls (slapping them lightly) and back up to the chain connecting the clips. Pulling. I groaned. The cock flexed.
“Please touch it,” I begged.
Whimper. Whine. I moved to kiss her, but she pulled her head away.
“Please let me kiss you. I want to kiss you.”
She moved her head back down, just close enough for my lips to graze hers, but not close enough for a real kiss.
She kissed me, full on the mouth, but just once and she didn’t linger, then she got up from the bed and started to rummage through my bag. She brought out the bondage stuff and strapped my ankles to each of the king-sized bed’s feet. I retained some movement, but couldn’t close my legs. Next, she started looking around the room as if she had misplaced something. She grabbed a cloth napkin from the bar and tied it over my eyes like a blindfold. I couldn’t see a thing. Then she made a little happy sound like she had discovered something she had lost. That was followed by a few metallic sounds. CLAMP CLAMP!
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Maybe I should go down to the bar and have a drink. Leave you like this to stew.”
Groan. I think she considered it. Really was thinking about it, but then I felt her get back into bed with me. She continued the teasing from before. My cock was desperate for real touching, preferably stroking, and I moved my hands down as if to oblige but she jerked them back over my head.
They weren’t tied that way, but it was clear she wanted my hands up over my head or near my face.
“Please,” I begged again, “please touch it.”
“If I do, then what? What’s in it for me?”
“Anything. Anything you want.”
“Yes, please, just touch it!”
I felt something cold and sharp on the hard shaft. It clamped down on either side of the cock and moved up and down, slowly.
“How does that feel?”
“Ungh! It hurts!”
“Hurts bad or hurts good?”
“Both!” I writhed.
I could feel the metal bite the smooth, silky skin of the shaft but also feel the internal stimulation of being stroked. I needed this so bad. Craved it. Two months since I last came, and she was jacking me off with some kind of sharp, painful metal device.
“Do you want me to stop?”
I paused. It hurt. But it also felt good. Really good.
“No.” I said quietly, then moved my hips closed to her, arching my back so she could get a better angle on the meat. What felt like sharp little teeth were biting into the stiff shaft and it hurt, but I couldn’t imagine it stopping. I was getting more than enough jacking off stimulation to hold my attention.
Occasionally, she stop the stroking and I’d feel her use whatever it was on my nuts. She’d clamp the sharp teeth round one of my nuts and squeeze. Then the other. Then back to the shaft. I could actually feel the rumblings of an orgasm, even against the pain of the metal.
“Yes? Want me to stop now?”
“Oh FUCK, no. Don’t stop. Please.”
“Does it hurt?”
“YES! But I like it. I want you to jack me off.”
“You. Are. So weird.”
“I know,” I said softly, moving closer to her.
“And I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
More stroking. More biting. More feeling the need to come, though I realized it was never going to get there with the level of stimulation I was getting from whatever it was she was stroking me with.
“What is that thing?”
She pulled the blind from my eyes and held the ice tongs in front of my face, snapping their little teeth together.
She moved it back down to the cock and grabbed it with the little teeth.
“I thought you liked it,” she said.
“Ungh,” I replied as she stroked me some more.
She put the tongs aside and pulled off her shirt. I tried to kiss them, get my mouth on her nipples. She pushed me away.
Then she started to flog the cock and my balls. Gently, but then with some force. Not enough to damage me, but enough to get my attention. She’d slowly drag the suede lashes over the straining and, now thanks to the ice tongs, stinging meat. Then flick them across the shaft. Then the balls. Then dragging them again, seductively. Lovingly. Again and again.
“Please, will you fuck me?”
“Not yet, anyway.”
More flogging. More pulling on the clamps which had, by this time been on me for much longer than usual.
“I really should just leave you like this all night long. Tied up, nipples clamped.” I whined again.
“Please. Please fuck me. I don’t need to come. I just want to feel you. It’s been so long. Two months.”
“I know,” she said cooly, “That’s a long time, isn’t it?”
“Please…” was all I could muster. I wanted it so bad. Was so horny. She had played me perfectly all night, leaving me right on the edge of where pain turns to pleasure, but not going too far. I needed to feel something soft and hot and wet on her cock. I wanted her.
She took the cock in her hand. I moaned deeply. This wasn’t her pussy, it was pretty good.
“Really?” and she stroked me harder.
The cock stiffened. I could feel my balls drawing up. I was getting close…
Then she stopped, leaving me bobbing in the air.
She waited, perhaps counting the beat of my heart by the bounce of the cock in midair. Then she grabbed it again and resumed the stroking.
“You want me to fuck you?” she asked.
“Oh, Jesus, yes! Please fuck me!”
“And…what’s in it for me?”
“Anything. Anything you want.” And I meant it.
She made herself completely naked and climbed on top of me. She straddled my hips and moved the abused, desperate cock in position against her pussy’s lips. Then she plunged down onto it. I lost my breath, unable to breath. It felt so good. So amazing. Hot. Everything I needed it to be.
Her breasts were in my face and I tried to get her nipples in my mouth, but her motion as she fucked her cock made them hard targets.
“That’s a good boy,” she said, “Good Thumper. You know what you’re supposed to do…”
But it was too hard. I couldn’t keep hold of them. Eventually, she moved off and I slipped out with a wet smack against my stomach. She removed the clips from my nipples and twin lasers of intense pain seared into me. Unmoved, she pulled them out of my collar and tossed them aside. She picked the keys to the cuffs up off the nightstand but didn’t have a good handle on them and they fell into the hot wax of the candle.
“Fuck!” she said. Then she got the tongs and used them to fish the keys out.
Clamps and cuffs off, she put her hand over the cock again.
“Oh good, you’re still ready,” but she stroked it a few times for good measure before mounting me again.
She fucked me slowly as I sucked her tits. Her eyes closed, she was enjoying it at least as well as I was. After the initial shock, I settled in to as useful a position as possible. She may have given me what I was begging for, but now it was for her.
Best intentions aside, I said, “I’m getting close.” She slowed down. I could see her working it out in her head. Would I come or not? It had “only” been two months. After a smal rest, she’d pick up her rhythm again. I’d focus on a place far, far away, but it was so hard. The two months and the stroking, both with her hand and the ice tongs, conspired against me.
“I’m close,” I said again. What would happen? Would she roll off of me? Make me finish her in the normal way?
“Go ahead,” she said, and started to fuck me faster.
“Yes. Fuck me.”
And I did. I fucked her as hard and as fast as I could. Moments later, I felt it. From somewhere deep, deep inside the orgasm started to build and grow and rush forward before exploding out of me and into her. Three, four, five giant loads of semen surged out of me. I cried out at the intensity. The entire world had gone away and all there was was this feeling. My orgasm.
It finally subsided and I was left a gibbering, gooey mess. She rolled off of me and I felt two months of pent up desire ebb from my pores. Fuck, that was awesome. Even as the cock was laying against me, fat and happy, it continued to ooze its payload. Now, of course, I was repulsed by it. The slippery, foul smelling paste. While she attended to herself, I got some tissues and wiped as much of it as I could from my skin.
She got back into bed and I cleaved onto her.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“Awesome. Thank you so much for that. It was so great.”
“I haven’t come yet.”
“Oh. Yeah. Of course.”
I started in again on her nipples and fingering her pussy. It was super slick with my ejaculate and felt wider than usual. Well-fucked. She seemed to enjoy what I was doing, but it didn’t seem to be going anywhere.
“I want you to eat me out.”
Oh, fuck. I cringed. I whimpered again. “Really?”
“What’s wrong? I thought you liked that.”
“I do, but…” I just came in there!
“Well, you should have brought Pink. Come on, cowboy, get to it,” she said as she spread her legs wide. “You said I could have anything.”
Busted. I was groaning the whole way down. I could smell it. I had already felt it. I knew it was in there still. There had been so much.
I closed my eyes figuring it’d be easier if I couldn’t see anything. Don’t get me wrong, I love pussy, but I’ve never found it to be the most appealing thing immediately after an orgasm. Regardless, I figured the band-aid approach was best. Just get it over with.
My tongue stared to lap at her clit. That would be the area of least contamination, I thought, but she liked how it felt and started to move her pussy around, guiding my licking.
“That’s a good boy,” she purred. I licked. Oh, god. I licked and lapped and reached up to her nipples, hoping she’d come so I could stop.
“Can you taste yourself?” she asked.
I grunted noncommittally. Of course I could. Fucking hell.
When she finally came, she pushed my face into her and my tongue deeper into her pussy. She clamped her legs around my head. There was no getting away. Her orgasm spasmed across my tongue and she squeezed more of my seed into my mouth on onto my face.
When she unclamped, I moved out as quickly as possible, wiping my face with my hands.
“Good job, Thumper.”
Next morning, before we went to get our 80 minute deep tissue massages (can you imagine?), she allowed me to jack off one more time and finish with an orgasm. She was in the bathroom getting ready and would occasionally look in my direction, a look of bemusement on her face.
“What?! You said I could!”
I tried to draw it out as long as possible. To savor the rare moment of self gratification. I came again and, just like before, it was copious. Great globs of it oozed out of me. The orgasm was half as intense as the night before, but even then, was ten times better than I used to have when they were mine.
Later, after the rubbing and the fragrant oil and the fruit juice, as we were leaving the spa, she asked if I was relaxed.
“Oh yes,” I replied, “In more ways than one.”
In thinking about this after the fact, I can easily say that night in the nice hotel when Belle Fille abused me and then fucked me and then made me eat my own seed from her was one of the top five sexual experiences of my life. I’m so, so lucky to be married to such a wonderful and caring woman.
Thank you, Belle Fille. Thank you for everything.