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From: greymead <greymead@arachnyd.com>
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Subject: Ever After
Date: Tue, 13 Sep 2005 05:01:30 -0700
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===================

Perhaps now that I have this venue, I shall write some more.  In the
meantime, I will post some stories I wrote a few years ago.  This is
the first such post.

Ever After
©Greymead

I stood in the hallway, my jaw hanging open in disbelief, my eyes
riveted to the form of my wife, my bride of 5 months. She was bound
hand and foot, stretched on her belly in the middle of our bed, and
writhing in a most deliciously erotic manner.

My first thought was that I had stumbled upon a robbery or rape in
progress in my own home, that there must be someone else in the house,
but it was obvious from her movement that this was something she was
enjoying immensely. The best part was, she was still unaware of my
presence. I quietly thanked mother nature for the snowstorm that had
aborted my business trip, and was very glad that I had decided to
return home rather than wait it out in the airport.

On stocking feet, I softly walked into the bedroom for a closer look.

Her ankles were bound together and fastened by a short length of rope
to the crossbar at the foot of the bed. Her wrists, raised above her
head, were likewise fastened to the headboard, though here it was a
pair of handcuffs that held her wrists and a length of rope that
fastened the handcuffs to the bed. A twin strand passed from the loop
around her waist, between her buttocks and through her crotch. I
presumed it was fastened in front to that same waist loop. It was
against this twin strand that she appeared to be moving.

The whole thing puzzled me for several minutes - I could see how she
had managed to bind herself, probably setting the handcuffs in place,
then tying her ankles after the rope panty was in place before she
closed the cuffs around her wrist, but had she intended to remain this
way until my return from Chicago a week from now? I considered the
possibility that she had a friend who was to come release her at some
specific point in time, a thought that made me more than a little
jealous. Then I spotted the icecube.

It was tied to her wrist with a length of white string, and in its
depth I could make out the shape of a small key. Timed release. I
quietly picked up her cuticle scissors from the dresser and, being
careful not to make a telltale tug on the string, snipped it, placing
the icecube quietly into the wastebasket, then sat in my reading chair
to watch.

She moved for a while, then subsided - evidently delaying her
gratification, perhaps trying to time it so that she would achieve an
orgasm at about the time she would be able to free herself. I smiled as
I wondered how she would respond when she found that she had no key. I
sat back and enjoyed the show, and considered the old fantasies that
had filled my mind as a teenager, fantasies I had never hoped to share
with a woman. My lovely and loving wife was going to be a more perfect
lover than I had thought.

The moment arrived when her body strained against the ropes and a
moaning escaped into the cloth gag in her mouth, barely perceptable
from my vantage point. She lay for long moments, her breathing slowing,
the flush on her shoulders returning to the natural, almost milk white
color of her skin. Her hands fumbled for several moments, the motions
unhurried, almost languid at first became more frantic as she found the
cut end of the string. She cast about as if searching for that icecube
- not believing, I imagine, that it could possibly be gone.

When she was on the verge of complete panic, I laid a gentle hand on
her shoulder. "You are mine, now. You will not escape your bondage
until I deem it is time."

She lay suddenly still for several moments, then fought her bonds
fiercely. She had done a good job on herself. I did not see any
significant slippage in the ropes. I checked the knots and found that
they were well made and were not in danger of tightening too much on
her either. Her breathing was hard and ragged and she was, judging from
the sound of it, cursing me into her gag. I realized that she did not
know it was I who held her! This represented an opportunity I might
never have again! I left her on the bed while I went to scavenge some
items from other parts of the house. When I returned, she was fighting
the ropes again. She seemed considerably weaker now.

I slipped a knife under the rope that passed through her crotch, and
cut it, then the one around her waist. When I pulled the rope out, I
discovered that she had knotted it in two places to correspond (judging
by the wetness on one knot) to her clitoris and her asshole.
Interesting!

I looped a rope around each knee and passed the free ends under the
mattress and through the bedsprings in such a way that I could take up
slack on both of them by pulling the ends at the foot of the bed. Once
I was fairly certain I could control her legs, I cut the rope binding
her ankles, then pulled the rope ends that pulled her knees apart. A
quick hitch, and they were held in place. I slipped a pillow under her
hips, then raised her bodily and slipped another in.

I cupped her pussy with my hand and discovered it dripping. Whatever
else it was doing to her, this treatment had made her very hot. I
thrust three fingers into her, roughly - almost brutally, and was
rewarded with a muffled groan of pleasure (or was it agony?).

Retrieving the handcuff key, I released one wrist and pulled it down
toward her ankle, causing her ass to push up into the air. She tried to
fight me, but did not have the strength or the leverage to prevent me
from tying her hand to her ankle and then repeating the process with
the other hand.

I do not think she truly appreciated what was going to happen until I
began to lube her asshole.

She jerked and cursed into her gag, then subsided into trembling and
tears as my ministrations continued unabated. I pushed one finger into
her, twisting it slowly. Her asshole relaxed a little and her sobs grew
almost gentle. When I felt she was ready for it, I introduced another
finger into her. The sudden intrusion caused her to clamp down again,
but I held the fingers in her still, bringing them slowly to life only
when the opening began to relax again.

In this way, I finally had her fully relaxed around three fingers,
which I figured to be a fair equivalent to what I was going to
introduce to her next. I climbed between her legs, removing my fingers
when my hard cock was poised in place.

Holding her buttocks apart with one hand, I guided my throbbing pecker
to the slack ring of her asshole and, in one fluid movement, pushed
deep into her. Immediately, she tightened on my cock. It was an
exquisite feeling as the tight band of muscle constricted around me,
causing my already hard cock to grow still harder. I paused, as much to
enjoy the sensations as to allow her to become accustomed to me.

Slowly, I began to fuck her. This was so tight, so wonderful that I
knew I would not last long, but I wanted to prolong it as much as I
could. There is only one first time to fuck any asshole, and this was
the asshole I had wanted all my life. I was determined to enjoy every
moment of it to the fullest.

As I pulled out, the ring of her asshole pulled out with me, elastic.
It was like a secondary caress as her skin pulled back to its original
position, followed closely by my next thrust. I watched my cock move in
and out of her, entranced by the sight of it. My hands closed on her
white buttocks, squeezing, kneading as I fucked her.

As my thrusts began to grow faster and more urgent, I began to spank
her flank one-handed, holding her with the other, guiding her hips.
When I realized that she was fucking back against me, I came. Hard.
Spurt after spurt of my hot jism pumping up through the shaft of my
cock, burning its way like hot lava.

I pushed myself deep inside that tight, humid channel and emptied my
balls into her as what seemed like quarts of the hot jizz spouted
through me.

Finally, emptied of seed as well as strength, I pulled her over onto
her side and lay beside her, lifting her blindfold so she could see who
it was. She looked so beautiful, laying bound and gagged. I felt the
surge of love - the kind that fills your heart and makes it seem as if
it may burst at the seams. I untied her hands from her ankles and
watched as she began to pull the gag from her mouth. She stopped, gag
still in place, and gave me a questioning look. I nodded okay, and she
removed it.

We spent the rest of the night laying in each other's arms talking,
caressing, exploring fantasy. Next day, I bought a collar for her.
Since then we have lived happily ever after.

    

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