Chapter 4

In my basement I have a weight bench, and for my purposes it would serve as a faux-bondage bench. One visit to the neighborhood hardware store, and I was the proud owner of 50 feet of royal blue ¼ inch marine line. Several minutes with a knife, ring bolts, and JB-Weld, and my weight bench now was a shiny altar for my predations upon the soft young (well, not so young, any more, but then neither was I) body of my ex. Each length of the rope now terminated in an abbreviated noose. This was not for asphyxia, but rather because I could apply it to a wrist or ankle, and release it readily with little effort, and it would not release itself despite vigorous wriggling by my captive. Two at the upright, two at the other end, and she would be secured, open and helpless. In addition, the thickness of the rope and its texture would protect her from actual injury. One final short length with an abbreviated noose at each end would serve either as a hobble or as hand cuffs. And, the blue would set off her eyes!

My girlfriend, long suffering and nearly endlessly understanding, was not shy about giving voice to her misgivings. Fortunately, she was well acquainted with the catalog of Annie's misdeeds, and was sympathetic to my desire for, well, revenge. Her price for her acquiescence to my rendezvous with the ex, was that she would get to be videographer. I did not think that it was unreasonable, in contrast to the demands I was laying out for Annie, and readily agreed. If Annie balked at Marie's participation, well, then Annie would remain an Urban Outdoorsman, and the friendly folks at the aptly named Friend of the Court would have to referee the school-year custody melee. Good times, either way, it seemed to me!

FRIDAY

Friday came, Marie and I had dinner and cleaned up in preparation for our guest. Promptly at 1700 hours, Annie's little company car wheezed into my driveway, and her tread upon my porch presaged her knock. I opened the door, invited her inside, and invited her to secure her clothing and purse in the spare bedroom closet. She began to walk in to, well, "change her clothes", when Marie made her presence known. Annie, knowing of my girlfriend, recognized her, and turned to me.

"What is she doing here? I thought your little perversion play was going to be between you and me!"

"Annie: did you forget the recording of our encounter? Marie is going to be operating the camera for me."

"I don't know if I can go through with this, with her here. It's bad enough being here with you, under these circumstances, but with her watching everything you do to me, I don't know if I could stand it."

I replied, as reasonably as I could (Yeah, I know: I hadn't been too reasonable up to this point. Still, as much as I hate to admit it, she did have a point) "Annie, a couple of things: I cannot both participate and videotape the festivities. In addition, you did point out some concerns about my being too rough with you. Marie may protect both of us: she doesn't have any issue with you, and therefore will serve to keep me inside bounds. Plus, she can establish that I did not ignore your use of any safeword, and make sure I don't miss or ignore it when you do. You might like to think of her as our referee."

It was clear that she wasn't happy with this development, but (uncharacteristically) seemed to think that I had thought things through, and was making sense. (that is, once you got past the entire major suspension of disbelief required to allow me to believe that I was actually here, with her, and about to be doing what I was about to be doing. Once you got past all that, it really all made perfect sense. Really!) In any case, Annie deliberated for a moment, and entered the bedroom, closing the door behind her. That need for privacy didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, given my plan for the evening, which couldn't have been any sort of surprise to Annie, but it occurred to me that she likely needed to build up her nerve, and I was going to let her, this once.

I hadn't known I had left a robe in the room, but Annie certainly found it, and was wearing it as she left the room. She looked smaller, and less cocky now, on the boundary of submitting herself to me in terms and to an extent she had never done before. I ushered her to the basement, accompanied by the diligently videotaping Marie. There, I indicated the weight bench-cum-bondage-frame, and Annie, slowly dropping her robe with some hesitation, settled herself upon it.

She extended her arms, and I slipped the loops over her wrists, made them fast, and took up the slack in the line. Similarly, I secured her ankles, admiring her smoothly shaven pubis. I stepped back to admire my prey, filled with churning mixed feelings. On the one hand, I loathed the creature she had become, unfaithful, manipulative, self centered, and self absorbed. On the other hand, I had once loved her with a strength I had not known I was capable of. She had borne my children, and shared nearly a third of my life. She had lately began to pay attention to her fitness and diet, and the results spoke for themselves. She might have been my loathed ex wife, but she looked good, and, strictly from the perspective of a man-pig (did I just repeat myself?), well, my cock was thickening in my pants. It didn't hurt that she was now helpless (one of my favorite ways to enjoy a woman's company!), and had agreed to several little adventures that promised to bring my unit to Action Stations in short order.

I removed a towel from an adjacent table, revealing lubricant. I removed my own clothes, and hung them up over a nearby chair. I stepped up next to her, and, dangling my swollen johnson over her face, asked Annie, "Are you ready to begin?"

"I think so", she responded tremulously. "I hope you realize how much of a chance I'm taking putting myself in this position with you, of all people."

"Yep, I get it. I'm confident you understand my own feelings here. Some of them are obvious," and I gave my cock a wobble, "and others I've made clear over the past several weeks. Let's get started. If you need to slow down, but not stop, say Mustard. I'll stop, and we can see if we are done, or can resume after a brief break. If you need to stop altogether, and we are all done, say Ketchup. I'll stop, release you, and you can go. If I have to help you to wherever you are staying now, I will. Do you understand?"

"Yes, but what if I cannot talk?"

"I'll give you a bell. Use it if you need to use either safe word." I matched actions to words, and slid a small bell on a wrist lanyard over her right wrist. Experimentally, she shook her wrist. Once she shook it hard enough, the ringing was clearly audible. "Any other questions or concerns we need to agree on before we start?"

"No, I guess not. Let's get this over with."

That was all I needed to hear, and I promptly placed the bell into service, dipping my unit into her hot mouth. The bench height was just right for me to straddle her head, allowing me to rock back and forth and thereby advance and withdraw my dick from her mouth. For her part, she evidently had developed a taste for bondage and submission, since she displayed a degree of enthusiasm for the task I could only dimly recall her displaying in the past. My cock was soon dripping with her saliva, her tongue creating a drumbeat of lust on my favorite organ. I felt her raising her head off of the bench, as she tried to engulf more of my length in her mouth, sucking and slathering just as if she were once again my lover. I had to give her credit, she was certainly bringing her "A" game to the party!

I fully intended to have her earn that "A". I stroked, shallow at first, and deeper with succeeding strokes, burying my cock ever deeper in her accepting throat. She had (in a previous life) been quite adroit at satisfying me orally, and evidently Young Lochinvar had been presenting her with opportunities to improve her skills, opportunities it seemed that she had capitalized upon. Indeed, she had clearly profited from the practice he had provided her, as I soon was stroking my entire 7 inches fully into her throat, using her mouth and throat as if they were her cunt, pounding her nose with my swollen jiz filled balls with each downstroke. That didn't seem to throw her off of her game, as I felt her tongue stroking my tool, as if seeking the creamy cum bath I was working to bring to her tonsils.

To my pleasure, I noted that I did not elicit a gag from Annie, even as I hit my stride, fucking her face. For variety, I changed up my strokes, from fully burying my cock in her face, to rapid shallow jabs, to drive-it-deep-and-hold-it thrusts, savoring her throat engulfing my throbbing unit. Indeed, she continued to act as if my dick embedded in her oral cavity was the reason she was alive, licking, sucking and generally doing her level best to convince my balls to erupt upon her tongue. Conveniently enough, that was my very plan. It seemed as if her helplessness had freed her, allowing her to immerse herself in the wanton storm of feelings sucking my cock had set loose within her. It was as if she was the lost woman, the loving girl I had thought I had married.

I recalled other times. Once, across the country, visiting my mother, Annie had gone downstairs to wash some clothes while I watched the children. My brother took them out to walk Gramma's dog or some such errand, and I wandered downstairs to see what I could do to keep their mother from feeling she was on duty, at a different duty station, rather than on vacation. Finding her in the laundry room, I was overcome with emotion and embraced her. She reciprocated, and our kisses and caresses heated up as our emotions grew more intense. Pausing briefly, she looked in my eyes, and, kneeling before me, loosened my pants and released my organ. I was already hard, and she kissed the glans before taking me into her mouth, tongue busily caressing my shaft. Annie repeated this maneuver several times, before releasing me, looking into my eyes, and murmuring "I want you to fuck my face."

I was surprised, but the entire idea greatly appealed to me. I placed my hands at either side of her head, and began to guide her up and down my johnson's length. I heard her breathing quicken, and, encouraged, I pulled her down the length of my cock, holding her lips against my belly briefly before guiding her back nearly off my unit's end. Taking her moan as pleasure, I repeated this maneuver, soon slamming my length into her throat at regular intervals. She wrapped her arms around my thighs, pulling my cock deeper into the depths of her face, moaning around my cock and rolling her head from side to side as if to screw me deeper into her throat. She began to hold me at my maximum penetration, swallowing around my unit before letting me draw her off and return again to her depths. I felt her begin to twitch, recognizing her orgasm approaching, telling me how much she was enjoying my rough treatment of her. When she began to moan continuously around my cock in her throat, and shake with her climax, I was finished. I shot pulse after pulse of hot semen into her throat, feeling her own pleasure grow yet stronger as I fed her my legions of spermatozoa. Her shaking grew so intense that, soon, she had to release me from her mouth. She appeared boneless, and would have fallen except that I held her tightly to my thighs, protecting her from falling as we each recovered from tremendous climaxes.