Off Switch
Copyright© 2026 by acguy
Chapter 13
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 13 - His job is demanding, the kind that does not clock out when he does. It comes through the door with him: the tension in his shoulders, the faraway look, the sense that he is still at the office even when he is sitting across from her. She notices. She worries. She loves him enough to want the man who used to leave work at work, not the exhausted version who cannot switch off. So she starts looking for a way to help him. A caring wife, willing to do whatever it takes to bring him back to her.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Reluctant Romantic Heterosexual Fiction BDSM FemaleDom Light Bond Anal Sex Masturbation Oral Sex Pegging Sex Toys
She had slipped on a short red silk robe while he was still cleaning. He noticed it as soon as he came out of the playroom, the hem high on her thighs, the belt tied loose enough that the red lace of the corset still showed underneath.
“I cleaned everything,” he said. “The dildo’s on the bed.”
Lena looked him over and stopped at the shorts.
“Why are you wearing those?”
He started to answer and the words tangled. She did not wait for him to find a good one.
“You stay naked this weekend. Exposed. There is no one else out here, and I like seeing you like that. Especially with your cock locked. Thinking about the control I have over you makes me wet. Take them off.”
Colour climbed his throat. He pushed the shorts down, folded them, and set them on a chair. The cage sat obvious against him in the kitchen light. She put the plates on the table, then reached out and closed her hand around the metal, firm enough that he felt it, and kissed him.
“Good boy. Now eat.”
Lunch was light on purpose. Cold chicken, a green salad, bread, fruit. Enough to put something in him after the morning, not enough to send him to sleep. She watched him eat and let a few minutes pass before she asked.
“Still all right with what we did?”
He nodded, then made himself be precise.
“It was intense. More than I thought I would want. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it.” He hesitated over the next part. “I don’t think I could handle that twenty-four seven. The cage. The bench. All of it as a permanent setting.”
“I have no intention of doing that,” she said at once. “This is a special weekend. Home will not look like this every day. I needed to hear that you could say no to the extreme version.”
Some of the tightness left his face.
“Good.”
When the plates were empty she nodded at the sink.
“Dishes in the dishwasher. Wipe the counter. Then you can join me in the tub.”
He did as he was told. By the time he stepped outside she was already in the water, head back, eyes closed. One hand was under the surface, moving between her legs without any attempt to hide it. She did not look at him when he climbed in across from her. She kept going, unhurried, until a small tremor ran through her and her breath caught. Only after that did she open her eyes.
“I can’t seem to get enough orgasms,” she said, no apology in it. “I was thinking about this morning and one thing led to another.”
let you do the hard work.”
She crossed the tub and turned, sliding between his legs so her back pressed to his chest. She was bare in the water. She took his wrists and put one hand between her thighs from the front, the other on her breast, then leaned her weight into him.
“Tease me for a bit before you make me come.”
He started slow. The hand on her breast cupped her first, lifting the small, firm weight, thumb brushing the already tight nipple. He rolled it between finger and thumb, light, then firmer when her breath changed. The other hand had to come around her hip. That limited what he could do, and he used what the angle allowed: two fingers parting her pussy lips under the water, sliding through the slick heat of her, the tip of his middle finger easing inside while his first finger stayed along her clit.
“That’s good. Don’t rush.”
He kissed the side of her neck, then higher, just under her ear. She tipped her head and gave him her throat. He worked her in a shallow rhythm, middle finger stroking in and out of her cunt, the finger above it rubbing her clit in short, wet passes. When he pinched her nipple she made a low sound and pushed her chest into his palm.
“Harder on that one. Yes. Like that.”
He pinched again and held it, then released and massaged the whole breast, squeezing, lifting, letting the nipple drag across his palm before he caught it once more. Below, he added a second finger beside the first and kept the strokes shallow. She was wet enough that even those two fingers made a soft sound under the water.
“Fuck. That. Keep doing that and then take it away. I like the denial.”
He nipped her earlobe and she shivered against his chest. The cage sat pressed to the small of her back every time she shifted. He kept the rhythm she wanted: a few tight circles on her clit, a pinch to her nipple, both fingers inside her until her thighs started to shake, then nothing but the lightest touch until the climb dropped. She was vocal through all of it.
“Right there. Stay. No, back off. Pinch the other one. Your mouth on my neck.”
He sucked at the place under her jaw and she reached back with one hand, gripping his thigh, holding him in place while she used what his hand could give her. He edged her until her stomach was tight and her voice had gone rough, until every time he returned to her clit she jerked in the water.
“Enough teasing. Make me come. Don’t you dare stop this time.”
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