I wouldn't want you to get the wrong idea. My wife and I are not
always getting up to 'unusual activities' but we decided when we
first got married that we should work hard to keep some sparkle
in our sex life... hence the 'games'. About 4 or 5 times a year
(it used to be more often) we act out our fanasies and really go
to town. This particular event happened about 18 months ago and
to the best of my recollections what happened was this... I'd got
home from work about 7:00 and usual sat down to my tea. My son
was already in bed and Carole (my wife) sat watching me with a
permanent grin on her face. I finished my tea and went into the
living room, my wife followed still smiling. "Ok", I said,
"What's up?". "I wondered whether you were in the mood for a
game?", she replied. "Whose turn is it? (to choose the plot)", I
asked. "Mine", she said gleefully. "You've got something
planned", I said. "What's the matter, lost your bottle?", she
said scornfully. Bottle!, then I remembered, in our last game I'd
forced her to take most of a half pint beer bottle up her cunt,
she reckoned it had hurt her (anyone would think I'd left the top
on) and she said she was going to get even. "Well?", she asked.
"Ok then", I said, "What's it to be?". "First you've got to
promise not to go back on your word", she said. "I promise now
put me out of my misery", I replied, wishing immediately that I
hadn't said that last bit. "Well first I want you undressed", she
said. "Where?", I asked. "Here", she said, "in the living room,
by the fire". Well that sounded fair enough so I stripped off.
"What now?", I enquired. "Now", she said wickedly, "I want to tie
your hands behind your back and your feet together". "What for?",
I asked. "Do you want to play this game or not", she snapped.
"Alright, alright", I said, "tie away". From the bureau she
produced one lengths of thick orange nylon rope for my ankles and handcuffs for my wrists. 'She's been
cutting up my tow rope' I thought as she came over and tied my
hands and feet firmly. Then she left the room for a few minutes
and as I laid there completely helpless I wondered what I had let
myself in for. Presently the door opened and she entered wearing
only a pair of long leather boots and a studded leather belt
round her waist and a satin love mask. Then I noticed she was carrying that beer bottle
and a glass. "Like a drink?", she said pouring a little into the
glass, IT WAS YELLOW!!. "If thats what I think it is, no thanks",
I replied. "Well we'll have to see whether you're a good boy,
wont we?", she said putting the bottle and glass on the coffee
table. She came over to me and sat on my stomach facing my feet.
"Call that a prick?", she said flicking it with her fingers.
"Give me a chance", I said, "I havent had a chance to get worked
up yet". "I've seen bigger matchsticks", she continued, waggling
it from side to side (Great sense of humour my wife, anyone who
didn't know me intimately would think I only had a small one).
Then Carole reached over and squeezed my balls so hard I cried
out. "If your prick isn't hard by the time I count to ten I'll
squeeze them even harder and wrap a ball spreader around them", she said in a harsh voice. As she
counted I closed my eyes and thought of Kim Wilde, she was naked
and just about to close her mouth around my cock. "5...6...7,
thats better", Carole said, "signs of life at last, but you'll
have to do better than that". Now Samantha Fox had joined Kim and
was just about squat over my face. "9...10", she continued,
"well, its not as hard as I would have liked, but it'll do".
Carole then reached under the sofa cushion and pulled out a roll
of thread, which she proceeded to wind round my cock 5 or 6
times, leaving about 14 inches hanging loose (the thread I mean,
not my cock). Turning to face me she said "Right, y