Tom Markham’s Mistress
I sat down, directly facing Grace, and took a sip of the burgundy I’d opened an hour or so before I had begun to bind her.
“Ohhhhhh….. Pleeeeeaaaaseeee…….,” she was muttering to herself, “No more, torture, pleeeeeaassseeeee……”
I settled back in my chair and took in the wonderful sight of my wife stretched out between two of our cellar posts, her body gleaming with perspiration (Grace is a lady, she doesn’t sweat). She was bound in a tight ‘X’, the ropes holding her ankles and wrists were as taut as I could make them, which; as anyone who has carried out this particular task knows, is not at all easy. You stretch one line to its fullest extent and one of the other ones goes loopy, so you tighten that one……. I don’t think I need to elaborate further.
My gaze focused on her breasts, which were tightly encircled with lengths of thin, hairy twine and bulged unnaturally, but very erotically, towards me. Neatly bisecting her well rounded belly I’d attached a cunt rope, which had sunk deeper and deeper inside her. As I watched she wriggled harder trying to embed it even further.
I had had a notion to suspend her upside down, and was quite attracted to the idea of inflicting some punishment on her vaginal area whilst she was in that vulnerable position, but was initially foiled by the technicalities of hanging her by her ankles without the danger of her falling on her head. As I sipped I considered a plan to bring into play an occasional table we had, lie her on top of it and begin the process by fastening her ankles to the top of our posts, making sure that every rope was taut. Once she was securely fastened I could then gently remove the table and begin on her wrists and other necessary bindings.
As my mind filled with erotic imagery my cock became thicker and longer and I was about to take off my clothes and make a start on her. I decided that we could discuss the possibility of an upside down suspension later, when we took coffee and after she’d been fucked.
“Darling, don’t you think it’s time for my gag, reminded Grace, interrupting my reverie.
“Which would you prefer to-day?”
“Penis, I think.”
I selected the required gag, black and shiny with a square face mask to go with it. I approached her, fiddled with her nipples for a while and then began to fit the gag.
“Oh, Tom, before I’m unable to speak, don’t forget I like to be left alone and helpless for half an hour or so.”
“Do you think that’s safe?” My cock was speaking for me as it didn’t think it could go for that length of time without some relief.
“Don’t be silly, darling, just fit the gag and leave me be.”
I did as I was told and was immediately rewarded by the sight of dribble appearing from behind the mask part of the gag. I decided to go a bit further and selected our most painful clamps and attached them to her nipples, finishing off with a tug at the chain which joined them.
“I….. grr….. d’n…. wan….. ‘em………”
It’s amazing how much noise a woman can make from behind a gag, which; when one thinks about it, really makes such devices quite useless for their primary purpose.
Stepping behind my helpless slave I roughly squeezed both buttocks before picking up a light flogger and began to belabour her back and nether regions. Her body swayed forward in her bindings as she attempted to avoid my smarting blows, but to no avail, every stroke struck home to be followed by a loud, though muffled, squeal.
Eventually, I tired of this. I had a last pull at her clamp chain, tugged the rope between her thighs, and made my way upstairs, where I decided to make myself a cup of tea and a chicken sandwich.
As I sipped and ate, watching daytime television, the doorbell rang. At first I thought to ignore it, what, with Grace tied up elsewhere and everything, but then got up and went to the front door.
“Hello, I’ve got great news,” Susannah burst past me in a storm of enthusiasm.
I hurried behind her, “…. Oh, I wasn’t expecting you…. I’m rather busy…..”
“Where’s Grace?” she asked.
“Out…... Out….. Somewhere….. Or another…..”
“Really? Isn’t that her Jag on the drive?”
“No, that’s mine……..”
“You! A sporty Jaguar. If the battered Austin Cambridge parked next to it isn’t yours, then I owe you a thousand pounds for gross underestimation.”
“They’re both mine…..,” I knew my face was becoming redder and redder.
Susannah pursed her very pink lips, her eyes narrowed, “You’ve got Grace down in the cellar, haven’t you?”
“No, no, nooooo…… She’s visiting a sick friend…. Went on the train….”
“She’s bound hand and foot in the cellar and no doubt wondering when you’ll return to continue her delicious torture.”
I held my hands up, “Yes… Shush…. O.k., she’s downstairs. I’d best check on her, you pop into the kitchen and pour yourself a cup of tea, it’s just made.”
“Tea? I don’t believe it. You take a break from bondage sex to have tea!”
“Well, I’m British, aren’t I. It’s what we do,” I replied before heading down into the cellar, shutting the door carefully behind me, hoping to have Grace up and about in as short as time as possible.
Grace eyed me quizzically as I began to untie the knots which held her, but then widened in alarm as the cellar door opened and in a matter of seconds Susannah was at the bottom of the stairs staring at the tableaux before her.
“Oh my God, Tom, how wonderful. Oh what fun, you must tie me up like that too.”
I became red in the face, “It’s not…. It isn’t….. We’re not……”
“Don’t be shy, it’s so delicious……….. I must become a part of it, I’m wetter than I’ve been for month…. You can’t leave me out of it,” I guessed that Susannah really did like the idea of being strung up.
“Ghhhh….. Glugggggg….. Ahhh…..,” Grace tried to speak.
Susannah sped across to my bound wife, dropped to her knees and plunged her face and; I presumed, tongue, between the latter’s plump thighs.
The pitch of Grace’s gagged complaints dropped several octaves and her loins began to move rhythmically in time with those of Susannah.
I stood half aghast and half aroused, “I….., Ah…., Susannah….”
My agent took a moment from her task, “Don’t just stand there, you dimwit, help me out, give her a flogging, play with her tits, make yourself useful.”
I didn’t need any second bidding, I rapidly stripped naked, took up the flogger and began to pound Grace’s buttocks, she began one of her famous shrieks, which no gag could control and I also knew that it meant that she was close to orgasm.
I dropped my whip, pushed into her buttocks and began to tug at her nipple clamps. The noise from her became even louder and then suddenly my cock was enfolded in a wet warmness and I realised that it had found a home in Susannah’s mouth. My agent sucked, licked and soon had me howling too. All three of us swayed together, with at least two of us reaching orgasm at the same instant.
Half an hour later, we were all sipping coffee and talking of this and that as though nothing had occurred in the room beneath our feet, though Grace couldn’t seem to rid herself of a very wide smile.
“By the way, Susannah, what was your news?” I asked.
“Oh, I’ve got you a spot on television, you know, talking head expert, it’s a series they’re doing on Shakespeare’s Histories. The money’s good and it could well lead to more.”
“Great,” I replied, “When do I start?”
“As soon as I’ve had my turn down in your cellar.”
End of part 3
Copyright© 2013 by Belisarius. All rights reserved.