As we stepped out of my car, I couldn’t help but admire how attractive my former high school girlfriend appeared, even with the decade that had passed since our first romance. We’d attended different universities, met other people along the way, and drifted apart. Now, as I was starting to heal from a difficult divorce, finding her at the mall felt like a pleasant surprise. She and I were both browsing in a department store when we spotted each other. It made me happy that she agreed to grab lunch.
During our meal, I noticed our waiter glancing over at her repeatedly. Clearly, he thought she was attractive too. Plus, it being Saturday gave us plenty of time to catch up properly.
Walking toward her house along the sidewalk, I took in the well-tended lawn and shrubbery surrounding her impressive brick home. “You’ve certainly done well for yourself,” I said.
“Thank you,” she replied simply. She retrieved her keys from her purse, holding them alongside a small electronic device. “Get ready for something special,” she added with a smirk as she unlocked the door, leaving me staring in surprise.
We entered through the foyer, passing the formal living room to our right and the dining room to our left, then headed down the hallway toward the back of the house where the kitchen and family area were located. The TV was on; since she’d mentioned having no children, I assumed it had been left running by accident.
Rounding the corner into that space, I spotted a somewhat nerdy-looking man sitting on the couch. “Hello, sweetheart,” she called out to him. “I’ve brought a friend home with me.”
“Who is this?” I asked, extending my hand in greeting.
“Mark, her husband,” he replied. “Didn’t she mention being married?”
“Roger,” I said, shaking his hand. Turning back to Margaret with shock on my face, I added, “But you told me you were divorced!”
“I am divorced,” she clarified. “From my first marriage. Mark is my second husband; we’ve been together for three years now.” She set her purse down and pointed the electronic gadget at him. “We’re here to have some fun,” she said.
“What?” Mark asked, looking puzzled.
“You heard me correctly,” Margaret responded. “I’m going to show Roger how this device works.”
“You’ve got to be joking,” Mark muttered.
“Assume the doggie position!” she commanded. As Mark tried to reach for the device in her hand, Margaret stepped back and pressed a button on it.
“Aaaaah!” Mark cried out, bending forward as obvious pain crossed his face.
“What exactly are you doing?” I shouted at Margaret.
“He likes it!” she said, keeping the button depressed. Mark bent even further over, still clearly in discomfort. “Give in, Mark,” she urged him. “If you’re not on your hands and knees within three seconds, I’m going to turn up the pain dial!” She gestured with her free hand toward the knob at the top of the controller. Mark cried out again and dropped into position.
“What are you doing to him?” I asked, my curiosity warring with disbelief.
“We have a device locked onto his penis and balls that lets me control him via this handheld unit,” she explained. “When he’s at home, I’m in absolute charge of his behavior. He serves me however I need.”
“Wow!” I replied, amazed. “That’s really kinky.”
“It is totally fun,” she agreed. Turning to Mark again, she added, “Now crawl over to the end table and pull out the mouth gag.”
“Not the mouth gag!” Mark protested before squealing in pain as Margaret pressed another button on her remote. “Okay, okay — stop!” She released the pressure, allowing him to scramble toward the side table.
He opened a drawer and retrieved a ball-gag harness.
“Put it on,” she commanded. Mark hesitated, looking between her and me, perspiration beading on his forehead. “Do it now!” she ordered once more as she pressed down again.
“Ow!!” Mark yelled, lifting the gag to his mouth and securing it.
“Okay, stand up, march into the kitchen, and bring us back two glasses of white wine,” Margaret instructed.
Mark headed toward the kitchen. I wondered if he might bolt out the door instead. Watching closely as he grabbed two glasses, fetched a bottle from the fridge, poured carefully, and returned with them, I said, “Thank you.”
“Uh huh,” Mark replied muffled by the ball gag.
“Let’s take these into the bedroom,” Margaret suggested. “You go first, Mark.”
“Uuuh?” he asked through the gag, looking shocked. Then came another “Aaaaah!” as she pressed a button.
“Yes, Mark. Just do as I say,” Margaret replied calmly. Look bewildered but obedient, he led us to the bedroom.
The room was neat and tidy upon our arrival. “You have lovely furniture,” I remarked.
“Thanks,” said Margaret. She walked over to a tall cabinet with doors and swung them open behind which stood a large flat-screen TV. Pulling out a long wooden bar from inside, she inserted it into slots in the two doors to keep them wide open. Turning back to Mark, she instructed, “Take off your shirt, sweetie.”
“Uuuh?” he responded. Another button press brought an “Aaaah!” as he peeled his shirt off and tossed it onto the bed.
“Good,” Margaret approved. “Now open the drawer and pull out the ropes.”
Mark paused for a moment, but this time Margaret simply waited, her finger hovering over the device control. Relenting, Mark opened a dresser drawer and drew out some rope. “Lay them out on the bed now,” she commanded.
He walked over to separate the lengths of rope and arranged them neatly across the mattress. Margaret handed me the controller and said, “Feel free to press the button whenever you feel like it.” I looked down at the device in my hand, then up at Mark, whose eyes pleaded with me to be gentle.
I had no immediate intention of pressing the button; I just held it loosely before me. I considered setting it on the dresser or letting it hang by my side, but I was enjoying having my finger poised over the trigger. Generally not a cruel person, I found myself getting off on the power to threaten Mark with sudden pain if my finger twitched unexpectedly.
Margaret guided Mark back to the TV cabinet and secured his wrists to the open doors so he stood facing us, arms spread wide. She stepped back for a moment, looking at him then turning her gaze toward me. I began feeling both nervous and excited, noticing myself trembling slightly.
“Mark enjoys being humiliated sexually,” she confided in me. Walking over to Mark again, she undid the belt holding up his khaki shorts, followed by unbuttoning and unzipping them. Holding one hand on the pants while reaching inside with the other, she grabbed his balls through his underwear.
She paused briefly before squeezing hard enough for him to squirm in discomfort. Seeing her torment her husband caused my own cock to stiffen; I’d never been particularly interested in kink myself, so this reaction surprised me. Feeling a bit lightheaded, I sat down on the bed as Margaret continued kneading Mark’s balls and wiggling his underwear.
Then she grabbed the glans of his penis through the fabric, squeezing firmly while pulling outward. It was clear he had gotten hard, his shaft stiff against the material. Releasing her hold on his shorts, they dropped to his ankles; we’d arrived with him barefooted. He kicked them aside as well.
She rubbed the front of his underpants for about thirty seconds before pulling them down completely to reveal his throbbing gag-ready cock (note: context implies he is wearing a ball gag already, but here she reveals the penis). The underwear fell to the floor, and Mark kicked those away too. Now standing bound to the furniture with a raging erection…
“I’m going to take a shower and change into something comfortable,” Margaret announced. I watched her disappear into the bathroom, feeling a twinge of trepidation about being left alone with her naked, key-controlled husband (note: ‘key’ refers to control/device key). I stared at his privates for a moment, curious about the electronic device locked onto his scrotum and its connecting wire.
[…text continues in original source but is cut off]
I was thrilled to catch the signal from the handheld unit. It remained in my grip, yet I realized that now he was secured to the cabinet, I no longer needed to hold it. I rose and placed it on the dresser.
For a moment, I paused, unsure of what words or actions were appropriate. Seeing him stripped bare and vulnerable like that sparked a desire in me to undress. I slipped off my shoes and socks, stood up again, and pulled off my shirt. Unable to resist further, I draped the shirt over his right arm. After another brief hesitation, I removed my trousers and hung them on his left arm as well. I peeled away my underwear, holding it in my hand while gazing at him and his chest, then started rubbing his pectorals with that fabric. I pressed the material into each of his armpits and twisted it before standing an inch closer to rub his back. Finally, I held them up to his nose for a sniff; he took a deep breath through his nostrils, clearly pleased by the scent.
Keeping the underwear in my hand, I wrapped the fabric around his stiffening member, squeezing and massaging him for some time until it grew even harder. Though I had never been intimate with another man before, my own cock was thickening—partly from picturing Margaret in the shower with soap sliding over her skin, and partly from watching Mark’s reaction. Acting on impulse, I knelt quickly and began sucking his shaft, feeling my tongue trace along its length.
Just then, Margaret emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel around her head and a silky robe covering her body. “Alright, boys, that’s enough of this!” she declared, looking at our two hard cocks. She walked over to the dresser drawer and retrieved a long wand. “I think Mark needs punishment for being so energetic,” she said while striking his abdomen with it. The force of each hit made his abs contract, causing his penis to bounce with every strike. She paused occasionally as if considering stopping, but then resumed her whipping until his skin flushed red. Setting the wand aside, she stepped closer and began kissing me passionately in front of her bound husband. I felt a touch of embarrassment yet was highly aroused simultaneously, so I returned her kiss with equal fervor. After a minute, I reached down to unfasten her robe while continuing to kiss her, massaging her breasts as we went along. Her nipples hardened and she responded with clear enthusiasm to my fondling.
After a few more minutes, I tugged at her robe again; she shrugged it off, letting it drop to the floor as our kissing and rubbing continued.
“Let’s get into bed,” she suggested. As she pulled back the covers, I glanced over at Mark standing there bound with pre-cum dripping from his tip. Margaret lay down on the king-sized bed, resting her head on a pillow, and tapped the mattress beside her. “Lie down here,” she instructed.
I obeyed, and she pushed me onto my back. “Stay still,” she said as she slid down to start sucking my cock. I closed my eyes to savor the sensations and avoid looking at Mark, moaning softly as she energetically moved up and down on my erect member.
After a few minutes, I told her, “You’d better stop unless you want me to finish right now.”
“I will stop,” she replied. “But I want you inside me. There’s a condom in my purse.”
“No need for one,” I said. “I’ve had a vasectomy.”
“Then let’s proceed,” she said, lying back down and tugging my arm to signal that she wanted me on top. As I gently inserted my swollen cock into her vagina and began rocking, I felt Mark’s eyes fixed on my back.
“I’m so excited to experience this with you,” she murmured.
“Me too!” I answered. We fell silent as the rhythm built steadily toward my big release. Pausing briefly for a moment, I asked, “Shouldn’t we do something more to bring you to orgasm? I believe in putting ladies first.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I’ll get Mark to help me with that.” She continued rocking and then let out a yelp as the orgasm hit her, my cock pulsing with exquisite spurts of semen.
Once I withdrew, I held my cock in hand to prevent any remaining seed from landing on Mark’s bed. We lay spooning for a few minutes before she whispered, “That was wonderful. I’m so glad we did this. I should spend some time with my husband now. Would you like us to tie you up so you can watch?”
I pondered the suggestion for a moment. “No, not yet,” I said. “Let’s swap phone numbers and perhaps do that next time.”
“Agreed,” she replied.
The author of this story is also the writer of the novel Intense Restraint, available on Amazon as both a Kindle edition and a soft-cover book.