For Miss Honey
I had known something was wrong all day. For a start, it had been a good day at work, almost too good to be true. And then I got home. Happy anniversary! My wife said to me as she walked through the door that evening. My heart sank and I knew I was in trouble. It's not unlike me to forget things, but I had done this before, and I was sure she wouldn't be happy about me doing it again now. I tried to make light of it as best I could, and weirdly, she seemed to go along with it. ‘I didn't get you a present either' she explained. I got us both a drink, and we settled onto the sofa to discuss the day we had each had at work. It was summer, and the long, warm evenings were perfect for dining outside on the patio. After the meal she smiled wickedly at me over her glass and said ‘I want to play'.
We always have sex to celebrate occasions, so her suggestion came as no surprise to me. I had been expecting it, actually. She stood up and took my hand in hers. She led me over to a bench in our garden, and we sat down together and kissed. It was all very romantic. I was beginning to get quite excited, and my heartbeat sped up as she revealed a blindfold and secured it around my head. She gently pulled me to my feet, and kissed me passionately, as we explored each other's mouths with our tongues. It makes everything so much more exciting when your vision is obscured. When she broke contact, she replaced her mouth on mine with a ball gag, buckled into place a little tight for my liking. Taking my hand again, she began to walk towards the bottom of the garden, and I of course followed, taking little steps and feeling my way on the grass. Then she stopped, spun me around a few times, and whispered in my ear to wait there. I wasn't sure I heard her leave or return, but there was no sound of her for a good few minutes. Suddenly I heard some objects fall to the ground next to me, and I could hear her footsteps around me as she padded about on the grass. She undid my sandals and told me to stand with my legs wide apart, and she wasn't happy until I was about to topple over. She used Velcro straps around my ankles, and they must have been secured then to the trees. It was harder than you might expect to work out what was going on by sound alone. Then she fastened my wrists in the same way, only the rope was pulled tight over a branch above me. I could feel some spring in the branch, but if I relaxed, I was stretched out a lot still, and I suppose it at least meant that I wouldn't fall over.
It was then that I really knew for sure, but I can't believe that I hadn't guessed that I would pay a lot for my forgetfulness. Her tone and demeanour changed once I was secure, and she explained how upset she was, and that she had to find a way to get that message home. The speech went on for some minutes, and there was nothing at all that I could do but mumble words of apology, completely obscured by the gag. Thinking about it, this was a big danger sign for me, as she clearly didn't even want to hear apologies at all. She simply wanted me to pay. She began to cut away my T-shirt, ripping it off me when the remaining threads were few enough. I was hit with a wave of excitement as I felt the cooler evening air, and the exposure and vulnerability of my naked chest. Her hand brushed over the area just below my belly button and I flinched, instinctively. Then she moved both hands to my nipples, playing with the skin around them, stretching and pulling gently. She licked one, and then the other. Leaving her saliva there to cool and tease my chest, she continued with the scissors, first for my shorts, and then my underwear. Now I felt very vulnerable. I was feeling some strain on my arms and legs as well, and I was starting to sweat a little. I groaned, shifting a little on my feet. ‘Shhh' she said, all dangerous whispers. ‘It's OK, this is only just beginning darling. There's plenty more to come that will take your mind off these' as she stroked the insides of my now naked thighs from knee to groin. She began to masturbate me. If there's one thing that she knows how to do, it is to drive me insane with her hand and a little imagination. She never does it the same way, which is one of the things that heighten my confusion as I can never guess what is coming next. This time she used her fingertips first, fluttering over my penis at random. Little by little I became more aroused, and before I knew it I was exploding. But before I could, she simply stood back, leaving me poised on the edge, desperately, fruitlessly willing my orgasm to materialise. It didn't, and I relaxed once I had accepted this. Moments later she took up where she had left off. This time, she was firmer in her manipulation of my penis. I really am a slave to my own desires here, because I always know what the outcome will be, and yet I can never resist the pleasure. Not once has she allowed me an orgasm before I first convince her that I would willingly turn one down in order to end the teasing. Sometimes she takes me way beyond that stage, and sometimes she accedes and simply stops touching me altogether. That is what I mean when I say she always keeps me in a state of confusion. This way I can spend hours, simply feeling sensation. I begin to focus purely on the orgasm alone (or lack of it). This evening I think she must have toyed with me that way for about an hour. Over and over again she took me close to orgasm, and then stopped. Towards the end she would stop, and then immediately tease my nipples. This was not quite enough to achieve the orgasm I so badly wanted, but it did take me excruciatingly close to it several times. I knew that I would not come though. This was one of those times when she probably wasn't feeling too generous. I guessed right as well, which is unusual.
It came to an end and she sat down near to me and lit up a cigarette. She teased me for a bit about using the cigarette end to torture me, and did in fact bring it worryingly close to areas I wanted to keep as far away from fire as I possibly could. At one point the ash must have been long enough, because she actually touched the end to my nipple. It gave me a shock, but it didn't hurt at all.
Then I heard her unscrew a jar. It took me quite a while to guess what she was doing, but I found out later that I had guessed right. She used a paintbrush to paint my penis and testicles with honey. It was actually quite an uncomfortable feeling at that stage, the sticky liquid clinging to my skin and pubic hair. I was excited though, and I enjoyed the feeling as she applied the honey to my nipples, much as she had lower down. I had thought that she was aiming for the torture of coping with flies and mosquitoes crawling over me, and I was half right I suppose. They began their excruciating torment there and then, before she was done. The mind is a powerful thing though, and I have no idea how many or how big the insects were that I felt, and that was very clever of her. But it got a lot worse before she left me to it. She began to paint with a thinner brush, down the insides of my legs, and onto my ankles and toes. She connected my nipples to the network of honey trails last, and then described the image to fuel my already feverish imagination. ‘There are a few hours of light left now' she explained. ‘I want to make the most of them, so I hope you are comfortable'. ‘Can you feel the ants yet on your feet? They'll soon report back to the rest of the colony, and before long you'll have the most exquisite torment to drive home how important today is to me. You can be my present yourself, if you can't remember to even get flowers.' I groaned, but it wasn't really for her benefit. I knew there was no stopping this. The tickling grew and grew, rising from my feet to the sensitive skin on the insides of my legs. I was whimpering by the time I could feel them over my penis and on my testicles. I was sure I was being bitten as well; the itching on my chest and nipples as well as penis, testicles, legs and feet was overwhelming. I was hard for a lot of the time, though, which was actually not good as it exposed yet more sensitive skin to the insects that were so excruciatingly effective in their delicate torment.
After a very long time, she came back to me, and I willingly put up with the shock of the garden hose spraying me down. The evening was still very warm, but the water was so cold. She released me for a minute or two, and although I didn't dare take off the blindfold or gag, I did flex my arms and legs to return the circulation to them. ‘Right' she said. This is not over yet. She fastened my wrists behind my back and led me over to the patio. I obediently spread my legs apart as she pulled my testicles away from my body and wrapped a rope around them, tying a tight knot. She tied a rope between my legs to stop them spreading too far, and then somehow fastened the testicle rope to the floor. She played with my nipples for a bit, giving me an erection very quickly, and then clipped them with a trouser hanger. This is not too painful, as it can grasp a lot of skin. Obviously it becomes more painful if one tries to pull the clips off though. She made the most of this fact and tied the clips above me, pulling the cord fairly tight. I stood immobile again, and wondered what was to come next. It was horrible. She untied the testicle rope from the floor, and began to pull down. The ache began to spread into my stomach, and I had to bend my knees to stop it getting any worse. This hurt my nipples, but what she was doing to my testicles was so bad that I had to do something. When she tied the testicle rope off again, my legs were shaking from the strain of holding up my body with knees bent. She spent two or three minutes using a cane on my backside, with muscles flexed, the pain seemed worse then ever before, and I had a few very good incentives not to move as it struck me over and over.
When she was done she left me there. It took me a while for the pain in my legs to get bad enough. Finally I gained the courage to further bend my knees, pulling the clamps first onto the delicate ends of my nipples, and then off altogether. Despite having my hands tied behind me, by shuffling about I was able to untie to testicle rope from the floor. I banged into a few things, but eventually removed the blindfold by rubbing my head against the wall. When I went upstairs she was in bed with her eyes closed, and there was no way I was going to wake her, so I lay next to her with the gag still on and my arms still fastened behind my back.
After a while, she stirred and realised I was there. She lifted herself up onto one elbow and looked at me lying there. One hand moved to idly touch my chest, moving from time to time to tease a nipple. My penis began to react once more and she smiled. She sat up straight and, looking me in the eyes, positioned herself over me on the bed. She softly massaged my penis with the outer lips of her vagina. Her face was a picture of pleasure, and despite the ache in my jaw and wrists, it was a pleasure I shared. She pushed herself onto me and began moving up and down, first focussing on one angle of penetration, then switching to another for a while. She didn't take long to have her first orgasm. Her second took a bit longer, and before she came, I felt myself too near the edge. I signalled frantically through the gag whimpers to this effect, and she lowered her eyelashes to let me know it was OK. My orgasm built to a crescendo, as she lifted herself off me leaving my penis with nothing but air for stimulation. I couldn't believe it, she was till mad. She moved close to my ear and whispered ‘hold on for me. We're going to come together this time'. I did hold on, as hard as I could. I had made mistakes before and I was going to do my best this time to end the evening as she wanted. She helped as well, by attaching a pair of rather nasty little nipple clamps with a handy chain. She also gave me a break for a while and removed the gag so that I could use my mouth ‘for something constructive'. For a good long time she bucked and squirmed on my face, pulling on the chain if my technique dropped below par for too long. We did cum together a fair while later, once she had spun back round to take me inside her, and I know that she was happy with me because she finally untied me before drifting off to sleep.
I lay awake for a while, pondering the evening's events. It's so hard really, because I know that she would have enjoyed flowers a lot less. Maybe I should forget again next year…