I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the warm coffee mug in my hands. This had to be one of my favorite parts of keeping my husband locked up, I reflected. He had brought me coffee in bed as usual, and then waited patiently for me to put on my favorite summer sun dress and sit in my comfy chair in the living room. He brought a foot stool for me, got on his knees, and gently rubbed my feet as I enjoyed my morning wake-up. Yes, this morning ritual was one of my favorite parts for sure.
I opened my eyes and examined him critically. He was naked but for his cage and the lacy pink panties that held it in place – and kept him in his place too, I thought, and smiled at my own joke. He was appropriately absorbed in his task, the foot rub sending little trills of pleasure up my legs to my brain. He had been locked and denied orgasm for how long, now? I found I couldn’t remember. At least a month, I decided. Well it didn’t look like that would change anytime soon, I reflected, as histhumb dug exhaustively into the ball of my foot. I reached to the table beside my chair and picked up my clipboard from where I had set it the night before. Time to review yesterday’s results and plan his day.
I kept my tone neutral, almost bored. “Hm, yesterday you got a little over-ambitious, didn’t you?” He looked up, nervous at the tone of my voice. “I noted that you did the dishes and the vacuuming, and you even folded the laundry. But that’s not on your list of chores.”
“I thought it would be a nice way to -” he started, but I cut him off, my voice now sugar-sweet.
“You thought? That was your first mistake. You’re not here to think and second-guess my plans, are you? You folded the laundry against my wishes.”
“But I wanted to -“
“Oh, you wanted?” I smiled, patronizingly. “You wanted something? That’s no reason for anything, dear.” His face was downcast, though he glanced up nervously. “Whose wants count, again? Remind me.” I leaned forward and, placing one finger under his chin, nudged his face upward so his eyes met mine.
“Only yours.” He answered.
I let his chin drop and went back to my clipboard, smoothing the rose fabric of my skirt over my thighs. “And then you had to go and back-talk me about it! I’ll have to think of how to remind you to do better today.”
“I’m sorry…” He mumbled. I smiled, but I I wanted something more. I had a little bit of time to play this morning, and I needed more to work with for what I had in mind.
“And did you even *notice* that you put away my underwear without ironing it?” I asked. He looked confused.
“But you never iron -“
“Of course *I* don’t iron my underwear before I put it away.” I explained, letting a sight of impatience escape my lips. Sometimes this role was almost too fun to play. “I’m much too busy for that. But if *you’re* going to do it, then you’d better treat my things with more care. The fabric that covers my pussy deserves as much care and luxury as you would spend on my pussy itself! And here you are, crumpling my panties up and stuffing them in the drawer.”
“But how was I supposed to know?” He blurted out, and immediately regretted it.
I fixed him with a look, and let him squirm for a moment. “More backtalk! You aren’t making this easy for yourself, are you?” I smiled again and prepared to check items off on the clipboard. “Let’s see. For today’s chores, we need to make you take your time…” I pretended to think, but I knew what I wanted to do. I had bought a special new punishment yesterday and I was excited to try it out.
I reached into the bag beside me and pulled out my new, luxurious wrist and ankle cuffs. Made of pink Italian leather, with gold clasps and chinchilla fur lining, these were the most luxury, campered tool in my toybox. I fastened them on him tightly, then bound the ankles together with a short length of gold chain. I considered for a moment and buckled his hands together too, behind hisback. I stepped away to admit my handiwork. The leather matched his frilly thong perfectly, and the wrist cuffs made him keep his shoulders back, his pes thrust forward just right. The ankle chains would severely limit his movement, which would prove entertaining.
I flicked his left nipple playfully and walked by him, then returned a moment later to stand before him with the laundry hamper in my hands, full to the brim with my underwear. I looked him in the eye and dumped the contents of the hamper on the floor. I sat down in my armchair, and with my most regular air delivered his sentence. “You will now fold my lingerie drawer again, and place the folded items on the couch. For today we will forgo the ironing.”
He looked down helpfully at his arms. “Like this?” He asked, promptly.
“Now now, no arguments, Remember? I don’t want to have to gag you, too.”
I smiled sweetly. “Tell you what: If you do a really good job maybe I’ll give you a chance to cum. Would you like that?”
He nodded fervently.
“I thought so. Of course, if you make any mistakes, I will have to add to your punishments. But you won’t make any mistakes, will you?” I laughed, and he obediently set to work.
He was certainly thinking about it, because he immediately fell over trying to walk to the closest pair of panties. I giggled out loud as he lifted himself up with his hands. The gold chains looked slight, but it really did force him to shorten his stride. They were obviously very uncomfortable, and he could only take small steps with them.
“Well?” I feigned impatience. “This will definitely teach you to take your time!”
He tried to reach the panties with his hands, to fold them sight unseen. He shuffled his way to the couch and laid them down, then turned around to inspect his handiwork. I gave him a small noise of displeasure and he immediately changed tactics. His discomfort was perfect! He finally settled on bending over and using his mouth to carefully fold the soft fabric. This made his ass stick out, round and cute in its’ pink, frilly thong back.
“Keep going,” I encouraged him. “I’ll be right back.”
I slipped into the bedroom and returned with my vibrator, and a small metal buttplug with a jeweled hilt. I watched him do another couple of pairs, first burying his nose in the pile of my delegations – his bulging cage and the slight moan at his lips clear evidence of what this placed front and center in his mind – then tottering over to the couch and carefully assembled a perfectly folded package. Excellent.
I told him to stop where he was, and approached him from behind. I let him feel my body pressed against his back through the soft, light fabric of my sundress. His hands, still trapped behind his back, were pressed against the heat of my crotch. I kissed his back and caresed his naked chest gently with my fingers, slowly dragging them down to the waistline of his panties and enjoying his twitches of electric pleasure at my every touch. I ran my fingernails lightly over his caged member, pressing so hard against within the silk and the bars underneath, and feel it pulse at my touch. I smiled and bit into the flesh of his back just to feel him gasp, and then traced the wait of his thong aruound behind him, into the crack of his well-formed ass. I gently pushed his back to bend him over at the waist, burying his face in the pile of feminine lingerie. At the press of my hands he obediently spread his legs a little – as far as the chain would allow him, I think – in preparation for what he thought was coming. I moistened the small metallic plug in my mouth, pulled his thong to the side, and slowly worked it inside him.
It entered him easily, and left only the pink jewel exposed between his cheeses. I carefully replced his thong so as not to cover the jewel – I liked the look of it, after all! – and ordered him back to work. I could practically see the shock and pure *want* in his bodyy as I withdraw from contact. I smiled again, and returned to my favorite chair. He followed me with his hungry eyes byt didn’t dare pause in his task. Good.
As he fetched the next pair of silky soft panties, I leaned back and spread my legs, reaching my vibrator under my dress. The buzzing sound told him exactly what was going on, and I swear I heard a whimper escape his lips. The bullet in my hand slide effortlessly over my lips, finding its target just as he bent to fold the dainty fabric with his lips.
“Oh no, please don’t…” he started, then changed tactics. “Can I please help?”
“You already *are* helping, baby,” I chastized him. “Now quiet, or I’ll have to get my pink ball gag out for you, too.”
As he struggled through his task, His cock struggling vainly to burst the bars of its cage, straining against the silky fabric of his lacy panties, I could feel my arousal growing. He buried his face in my most intimate clothing again and groaned aloud at the sexual frustration, the power this feminine fabric held over him. There was just something about having this much control over a man…
I changed my mind. “Come over here,” I ordered. As he tottered over I slide a finger inside my warm pussy, withdrawing it to offer him a taste. He bent at the waist and pulled it into his mouth hungrily. Another chill of pleasure, and I kicked the vibrator up a notch. I moaned and his desire for me was palpable, like a heat emanating from his body.
I gestured for him to knee on the couch; I went to the next room to get some more equipment while he tottered precariously over. I spanked his ass as I walked by, and I definitely heard a moan this time. More than a month, I had to remind myself. I returned with a gold four-way clasp. “Since you did a good job of some of the tasks yesterday, I suppose you *do* get some reward after all.” I undid the chain hobbling his legs, and clipped his anklets together with his wrists using the four-way. Hogtie for people who are too lazy to learn shibari, I smiled to myself as I carefully pushed him onto his stomach, his ankles and wrists successfully bound together by their soft, pink finery.
“You may give me an orgasm with that talented mouth of yours,” I continued, adjusting his position slightly to make room for myself in front of him. “I will even let you use my vibrator.” I tucked my Still-buzzing vibrator under his silk-clad crotch, and feel it makes contact with the steel of his cock cage.
I laid back on the couch, my legs spread with my pussy before his face. “This is a nice reward for you. But don’t you dare cum!” He looked as if this might be a struggle, so I upped the ante. “If you disobey me, I’ll make you shake your legs every day for the rest of the fucking week. ” It was just a tease of course, but now that I mentioned it, it would really drive him crazy… it would certainly teach him a lesson, too! I’d have to think about that.
He looked appropriately afraid,so I couldn’t resist double down. I smiled, “Let’s see you explain *that* at the gym! Maybe I’ll make you wear stockings, too!”
That definitely got him worried. I relaxed and leaned my head back onto the couch. I could feel his tongue immediately set to work on my labia, darting around, probing, tasting. We quickly settled into a rhythm, his mouth and me, punctuated only by our moans. I could feel his body writing between my legs, working to keep contact between the little vibrator and his cock cage. His ass humped against the couch pathically, and I felt my pleasure building.
I wasn’t even sure if I didn’t *want* him to fail, after all. The thought of my taste and smell overwhelming him, making him cum despite the cage, pumping load after load of hot semen into those lacy little panties, was… his moans reached a crescendo and he sucked my clip into his mouth, running his tongue over and around it, his face practically buried inside me. My orgasm exploded under me,driving all other thoughts from my mind. I bucked, I moaned, my body twisting, my hips in the air, driving my clip against his mouth. An eternal moment of pleasure filled every cell of my body, and I collapsed back onto the couch, my energy spent.
The vibrator still buzzed against his cage, the noise irritating after the wave of orgasm had crashed through me. I rose to turn it off, and pulled my hand back in Surprise. He had done it. His panties were soaked through, and thick ropes of cum had spilled out onto his played legs, onto the couch. I couldn’t believe it.
He was slumped on the couch, his arms and legs slack against his bonds. I laid down beside him, and tenderly stroked his arched back, the arms and legs still at their awkward angles, his body helpless against mine. I kissed him gently along the line of his shoulder, and snuggled my body against his affectionately.
“Oh, baby,” I said, my tone carefully disappointed-but-sweet, “you made such a mess. Tsk, tsk, tsk.” I kissed his should again, and ran my hand through his hair. He turned his head with some difficulty to look at me, his eyes pleading. He was smart enough to say nothing, but his eyes begged for mercy.
He would not find any mercy that day. “Baby, I think you know what you have to do. Better go quick so I can inspect before work. And I expect them perfectly smooth…”
His head slumped onto the couch, defeated. “Oh, and since you’ve already had your release, we’ll have to wait a few more weeks before letting you out.” I smiled to myself. It would be nice to have my laundry done – and ironed – from now on.
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