Chapter 3

It was a Tuesday, I don’t remember how long it had been since the strange encounters with my kids. I was drinking wine out of a box with my friend Angela at the house. Fred was at work and the kids were at school.

We were laughing and talking trash about some of the women in the PTA. You know, typical girl talk as we often did. We also share a love of complaining about our husbands. Angela has it worse than me. Her husband is a drunk and he recently lost his job.

“I tell you, Peggy. I am going to get a dog house and just chain him up in there one day. I’ll slap a collar around his neck and stake him outside.”

“Naked?” I was three or four wines in and picturing even her husband Steve naked was kind of exciting. He’s more out of shape than Fred.

“Damn right, he can wear sunblock, and I’ll stick a rubber tail up his butt! He can wiggle it or no dinner!” Angela giggled about her fantasy.

“What about your kids?” I laughed. This scenario was complete hyperbole.

“What would they see? My clit is bigger than his shriveled penis. I’ll just tell them their dad is an outside Dad now and we might bring him inside in the wintertime! Hell, the kids and me would be a lot happier that way!”

We cackled like two drunk women and laughed over the fantasy – which is all it was. “Has he ever tied you up?” I asked Angela more seriously. I wanted to play it off as more fantasy talk in case, she thought I was nuts.

“I’ve tied HIM up. The fat lump just laid on the bed and let me peg him!”

“Peg? As in Peggy?” I didn’t understand the term.

“Pegging? You don’t peg Fred? You should! It’s good for them. It teaches them who is boss!” Angela was sloshed. Angela told me she wears a strap-on dildo shaped like a penis and then she thrust her hips upward to indicate she fucked her husband in the butt.

“You didn’t?” I had never let Fred take my ass. I had a perfectly good pussy growing cobwebs.

“Hah, you’ll never know, Peggy! You want me to bring over one of my strap-ons?” she was clearly too drunk to drive.

“No!” I insisted. Then I blushed and said “Yes!” and then I said “Maybe!!”

My friend laughed and so did I. I didn’t know. I doubted Fred would be into any of that and I wasn’t sure I would be either. If he wasn’t banging me though – why would I spend my energy banging him?

“Why do you ask about being tied up?” she asked. “It’s not Fred, is it?” she brushed my hair out of my face playfully.

I grew silent and smiled. I couldn’t tell her the real truth!

“I fuck my pool guy sometimes,” she admitted. I was shocked she told me that. We generally dish on everything, but she had never admitted to anything as scandalous as infidelity. “He’s looks like a blue eyed Kurt Kobain with brown hair, dumb as a box of rocks, and thinks twenty dollars is a tip for munching downtown,” Angela said with pride as she framed her crotch with her hands.

“He goes down on you?”

“Ass and pussy! Eats both!” she bragged.

“That’s nasty!” I said.

“I keep my motor clean, Peggy,” my friend Angela said. Then she asked conspiratorially as if someone might overhear us even though we were alone “I told you, my secret. Now, who ties you up? Does he bind those big old boobies?” She bound my tits with an imaginary rope in a cross pattern.

I blushed. “No one, I was just reading about it.”

“Oh sure, READING?” Angela comically leaned back in the chair, let her mouth hang open and pretended to masturbate with a dildo while holding an imaginary book.

My kids walked in on her while she was doing it. Angela almost fell backward in her chair. I didn’t think they saw, or they would have said something. “Oh crap, would you look at the time?” she looked at her empty wrist. “I almost fell asleep! I guess I better call an Uber!”

“If you wait a little while, I am sure Fred would drive you home!”

“Oh, will he?” Angela asked with a coy grin. She can’t stop making double entendre jokes when she gets wasted.

“No, I’ll just be going. I’ll bring over that uh, THING we were talking about,” Angela said as she let herself out.

I wasn’t snockered or slurring my speech. I had three white wines. I once drank twelve and held my own at a 38 special concert. I was a little tipsy.

They grinned at me and went into their room. I went into mine and looked around for Fred’s handcuffs. I told myself it was to make sure they did not have them. He wouldn’t be home for three hours. I placed them on the counter in the living room.

Then I went to Doug’s room and popped my head in. “I am very tired; I am going to take a nap. Please do not interrupt me. Your father will be home in about three hours and then I’ll make dinner. Until then you can hang out in the living room if you want.”

What was I doing? Tempting them? I was aroused from talking to Angela all afternoon. I pictured her with the pool boy, and Tim with that harpoon-like dildo in his butthole. I imagined him crawling naked on the grass behind their house. It would be WAY more humiliating than what happened to me.

I was slightly tipsy, and I wasn’t thinking straight but I don’t think that is any excuse. I told myself that the kids were probably going to try it again anyway, and I might as well get it over with while Fred was away. I know that makes no sense. If they didn’t then I would have a restful nap.

I told myself that my kids had meant no harm, and it was hardly that different from playing tie-up games like cops and robbers and Indians and Cowboys when I was a little girl. I didn’t get wet, hard nipples, or the same adrenalin rush back then.

As an afterthought, when I returned to my room I laid out handkerchiefs they could also use to tie me up. I tried to make it look subtle like they just happened to be there in case they missed the handcuffs. I was being SO naughty!

I changed out of my clothes. I was in a pair of nice white panties with stockinged garters but no hose. I put my sleeping blindfold back on. I wore a matching bra that was probably a little too tight for me now. I lay in my bed and waited. I began to get cold feet.

I even put my sleeping blindfold on so I wouldn’t be tempted to open my eyes and spoil the illusion that I was asleep – I was so horny. This was so wrong and I knew it and yet I did it anyway.

I began to have remorse (or cold feet) for even thinking about allowing this to happen again. I thought about getting up and taking the handcuffs and hiding them before anything happened. I wasn’t sure I could go through with this.

I heard the kids in the living room. They were laughing and watching television. I felt incredibly ashamed of myself for tempting them. I told myself that it was just the wine and like Angela talking about putting her husband in the dog house in front of their kids, this was something that was just silly girl talk - fantasy. I began to feel silly for even having thought about this. I briefly considered locking my bedroom door and playing with myself. I was about to take out my pink dildo when I heard the door crack. “Oh shit,” I wondered what I should do. I could confront them! Shame them!

I would know though that it was me who led them here – it would be wrong to punish them. I was so conflicted. I didn’t want THEM to know that I tempted them. My mind flashed back to that diary story I read.

The main character left deviant breadcrumbs for her husband to disover. She was really the siren in the story not him. If I sprung up out of bed and told them that I had left those cuffs for them to find then they would know I tried to trick them.

I made the decision to roll over on my stomach, sleep with my hands at my sides, and pretend to be completely asleep. I would just see what happens.

I heard them giggle and whisper to each other. They didn’t immediately pounce. They crept around for a really long time. If I HAD been asleep, I would have woken up by now. I kept wanting them to just get on with it. Instead, they seemed to be searching around the room.

I heard them talk about my panties. I felt so ashamed – what was I doing? I knew this was wrong and my heart was racing so fast that I thought it might beat out of my chest. I thought surely, they knew I was awake because I was probably breathing rapidly.

I felt Doug’s hand gently slip a cuff on my left hand. I told myself that it was too late to protest now. I laid there. He brought my hand over to the middle of my back. I didn’t make it easier for him. I let Doug struggle a little to cuff both of my hands behind my back. I let my arms flop nice and heavy. I pretended I was asleep and stifled a smile.

“She didn’t wake up!” Randy sounded excited.

“Should we hog tie her?” Doug asked. I didn’t like the sound of that. The others agreed but none of them knew what that was. I had read about it in some stories. It can be done in one of several ways. The way I was envisioning was lifting my ankles and bending them back, so they were close to my wrists and letting them tie me that way.

I rolled over on my side while pretending to sleep. I heard my kids panic and scatter.

“She’s really out,” Randy said.

“Maybe we should not do this?” Janet said. “She was really pissed last time!”

“She might wake up if we try to take Dad’s cuffs off,” Doug said.

“Then she’s gonna be pissed anyway,” Janet slipped a rope around my ankles. Randy slipped a rope around my neck. I was worried they would choke me. He lifted my hair and brought the rope down to the ankles. They tied me but not very well. I gave them time to figure it out. I was this far into this thing. I didn’t want to make it too easy.

The tension was palpable. Would they figure out I am awake? Would they do something or make a sound and I’d have to wake up or they’d know I was fake sleeping? Would they go too far? Why had I taken off my clothes?

The rope from my husband’s boat is coated with this thick epoxy that makes it really rough and hard. It isn’t porous like most rope. It feels almost like a stretchable cord that chafes your skin. It smells like the sea, and it felt good against my skin in the strangest way.

I gave them enough time to get me tied up tightly. I kept hoping they would tie an X pattern with the rope around my chest the way that Angela had done with her imaginary rope. I didn’t want them to TOUCH or even SEE my boobs. I just thought that the X would be cool.

That’s when I felt the snap in the back and a snap in the front. I pretended to wake up. I didn’t want to do it all of a sudden. Randy pulled the rope he slipped around my neck, and it choked me. I tried to reach for the rope, but my arms were bound, and my wrists were cuffed. I was really and truly caught like a fly in a web – all cocooned up.

“Stop! Can’t breathe,” I panted. Doug told Randy to stop. “Please don’t do that again,” I asked politely. I didn’t demand they free me. I just insisted they not choke me with the rope and crush my windpipe.

“Okay, but you have to stop struggling!” Randy insisted.

“What are you going to do to me?” I plead.

“You’ve been naughty! Sleeping in your undies” Janet insisted, and she quoted my threat from the last time they ambushed me. “We are going to take you over our knee and spank your behind until it is red,”

I thought that was rather laughable. I am not chubby, but I am a bit more woman than would fit over any of their knees. I didn’t laugh though. “If you do, I’ll tan your hides!!!”

“Then we better make it worth it!” Janet told the boys. Doug was the first to try. I wiggled my body away from him. Randy held my neck so that I wouldn’t shimmy off the bed with my shoulders. My daughter held my feet, so I didn’t try to bring them up and kick Doug. He slid under me on the bed. I wasn’t quite over his knee as much as I was laying on his lap.

“Douglas Cooper! You had better think twice before you do this!” I struggled, but the more I did the more the bra started to come off of my body. They left it unclasped but didn’t pull it all the way off.

“You’ve been promising to spank our asses! Well, it’s your turn to get spanked and unlike you I’ll keep my promise to spank YOURS!” Doug slapped my butt as hard as he could. I was positive that he hurt his hand far worse than he spanked my butt. The feeling of his hand coming down on the white cotton was strangely arousing. The pain from his swat was distributed along with his hand print and through the panties. It reverberated through my left butt cheek.

I felt I had orchestrated this entire thing and it was going off the rails – it was too wild. I couldn’t control what would happen next and part of that thrilled me.

“Ow, fuck!” Doug shook out his hand. He knows I don’t tolerate him cussing like that in front of me. I know he talks like that constantly on his video games to the people he plays against. Randy and Janet laughed at him. I felt a strange sense of accomplishment – my bronzed and hardened ass had just cracked his hand!

“What can we use to paddle her?” Doug asked. I started to jiggle my way off of his knee. Randy let go of my neck. I wondered if I should have left out something they could use to paddle me – nothing too extreme. It was too late now!

The first thing Randy did was head to my nightstand. The one where I l kept my dildos. “No, not there!” I huffed. Randy turned to me. I knew he’d find my sex toys and there would be no living that down. I shouldn’t have made it so easy. “There is a wooden cutting board in the kitchen. If you have to use something, then use that.”

Randy disappeared into the kitchen.

“Take her panties down! Let’s see how Rosy her big butt gets!” Janet sneered. They uncuffed me and used the handkerchiefs to tie my arms outstretched to the bed. They brought my knees up and spread my legs. I could have overpowered them and tried to escape. I didn’t – I just let them do what they wanted and surrendered to them.

“We’ll see how RED yours gets! Your dad will be home soon!” I warned her.

“We’ve got three hours until then, and you know he comes home late!” she whispered in my ear. I got all sorts of tingles that I shouldn’t have gotten. She pushed my bra to the side so that if I turned over or moved, I would expose my breasts. Janet slipped her fingers into the sides of my panties and delicately rolled them down to expose my crack.

“Oh my god, Mom has butt cleavage!” Doug observed. I blushed. “Her butt crack is a mirror of her boob crack in the front!”

“Oh yeah,” Janet pushed my butt cheeks together to approximate the size of my tits. I wanted to protest – but what could I say? Threats didn’t work.

“How many are you going to give me?” I asked.

“How many what?” Doug asked.

“Spanks on the bottom, Simple Simon,” Janet teased her brother. That was good – I wanted them to argue amongst themselves.

“Fifty?” as if he was asking me.

“Okay, Fifty, no more? then you let me go and you don’t ever do this again? deal? No one will get in trouble?” I bargained.

Randy was rushing back in with the wooden paddle. He swung it in the air, and it made a hissing noise that scared the dickens out of me. I was positive that Doug would have agreed. “Hell No, we each get a turn!” Randy handed Doug the paddle.

His first strike on my butt wasn’t too hard. He rubbed my butt with his hand as if he were massaging it. His second and third strikes increased in intensity. He was slamming the paddle down like a hammer. “Why are you doing this?”

“You’ve been naughty! We saw what Angela was doing when we walked in!” Janet said.

“That was Angela, not me! Ow!” in my head I kept count. I doubted they were. The pops were coming rapidly in bursts of two or three and then a long pause that interrupted the rhythm of it. It felt annoying and frustrating. Just as Doug built up a rhythm, he paused, and I found myself anticipating a swing that never came.