After months of being isolated in the same house as me without being able to work, my wife was basically crawling up the walls. Around September of last year, as things were opening up a tiny bit, she decided that she'd had enough and booked us a spontaneous weekend vacation to an AirBnB in the forested lake country in the northern part of our state. While I didn't see what difference it would make if we were stuck in a cabin taking masked hikes around a lake versus being stuck in our condo taking masked hikes around the neighborhood, she assured me that it would help the weekend be special and relaxing for her.
I'm pretty much a homebody and would have been just as happy with a staycation, but I figured if we were going to spend the money and take a long drive for her sanity, I might as well make the most of it for her. As the date approached, I spent a lot of time on Google Maps picking out all of her favorites: ice cream places, BBQ joints, cheese shops and smokehouses, bookstores, and yarn stores to hit around the area... And I dug into our closet and packed a few other special things.
We drove up to the cabin one Friday morning, doing our usual road trip thing of stopping at interesting places along the way. We'd accumulated a few hundred dollars worth of damage along the way, and I was teasing her about finding yet another Container Store box to store all the new yarn she didn't need, but bought anyway (seriously, what is it with knitters?). The cabin itself was suitably woody, there were lots of great hiking spots around, and we even managed to find it in ourselves to ignore the next house over plastered in political posters and sporting an enormous banner of a certain political candidate mounted atop a 30 foot flagpole. Well, isolating apparently still had one benefit.
The next few days were filled with hikes and, unfortunately, finding out that most places upstate were still closed due to the 'rona. Stymied at our attempts to rent kayaks, we picnicked by the water, browsed used books, took advantage of the rental's grill, and just tried to make the most of a romantic getaway.
At first dark on the second night, we were sitting on the couch watching Netflix when I made my move. First came my hand gripping her below her chin, pushing upward slightly and drawing her eyes away from yet another episode of Schitt's Creek. My other hand grabbed her ponytail and completed the motion, extending her elegantly beautiful neck and causing her to go limp, gasp and grab at the couch in surprise. I looked directly at her, giving her my signature Look - the one that she once told me gets her instantly wet. The one that means that I own her.
"Oh." She said. Forced to stare at me, eyes wide, her hand groped around for the remote by her side and turned off the TV.
I smiled, and in a soft voice said "good girl." With that I brought her face to mine for a passionate kiss. She melted into it, giving a little moan and reaching for my shoulders, until I broke the connection by pulling her away gently by her hair. "Do you want to be tortured tonight?"
"Yes..." she says in a soft voice.
"Good answer," I reply in the same tone as before. Releasing her, I backed slowly away and opened the suitcase that contained the good stuff. One by one, I laid it all out on the coffee table in front of her, savoring her reactions: arnica massage oil, soft nylon rope, wrist and ankle cuffs, Wartenberg wheel, suede flogger, flick stick. And then finally, I walked over to the small kitchenette and brought back a single, mid-backed, wooden chair.
Her reaction did not disappoint. The look of doe-eyed surprise and innocence was betrayed by the hungry grind of her hips against the couch cushion and the subtle play of her hands along her legs. Some of these toys were things I hadn't brought out in years.
I gently held her hands and pulled her up from the couch. Her breath came shallow and fast as I gently made out with her, my hands tracing the curves I knew so well to unbutton and peel off her jeans, slide down her panties, and unhook her bra. We broke the connection ever so briefly to let her slide her top off, revealing her small breasts and acres of smooth, pale skin. My arms went back around her to grab her hips possessively and return to the kiss. After a few moments, still fully clothed (but with a painfully hard erection), I guided her over to the chair and made her straddle it. She looked back at me, perfectly trusting, and my eyes were drawn downwards to her swollen lips peeking out from underneath her ass.
First, I needed her completely relaxed. To that end, I popped open the top of the arnica oil, rubbed it between my hands to warm it up, and got to work on her muscles. She groaned in pleasure as I worked the knots out, first going up and down her back, then her arms, then her front (giving her hard nipples plenty of stimulation on the way). I spread more oil along her hips and thighs, rubbing the tension from her glutes and pelvic floor muscles, teasing her slit a little before moving on to her legs. They get a full treatment too, as I mentally went through everything I learned in my 10th grade sports physiology class.
With her skin warm and glowing from the attention, I gently guided my wife's arms and ankles into the the thick, felt-lined cuffs, tightening them and getting a small nod that each was comfortable before I linked her wrists and ankles with carabiners. Then I brought her down from the chair itself, bending her over the seat with her knees on the carpeted floor. Her eyes shone with anticipation.
I'll be honest, I'm not much of a rigger. Although I can tie a few shibari harnesses, compared to some people I've known I've always been a little awkward with knots, so I bought cuffs to make things easier. Today I tied her thighs to the legs of the chair, her elbows to the same point, and looped rope through the wrist carabiner and fastened it to the back of the chair, making sure to caress her skin and look into her eyes occasionally as she got progressively more restrained. The position she ended up in was a little like this, though the chair was upright and her knees on the floor.
The careful, cultivated intimacy of the night had brought us to his: my wife, her pale body on display, helpless, baring her ass to me, her pussy already dripping.
The next two hours I remember in moments.
Using the flick stick to leave welts on her inner thighs and ass, the way she always told me sent her deep into subspace. I kiss her and caress her face after every stroke and tell her how proud she makes me and how well she's doing.
Petting her with the Wartenberg wheel and my nails, raking them gently over the skin of her sides and back. She moans gently as I find the sensitive spots on her pale, elegant torso.
Grabbing her hips the way I know makes her feel possessed and spanking her, making her count with me and ride through the sensation together.
Finally letting her cum on my fingers after she begs for release.
Running the suede flogger over my wife's ass, watching her shiver at the soft texture running over her sensitized skin.
The slap of the flogger on her exposed cheeks, and then her pussy itself. Hearing her hold her breath before each strike. Crying out "yes," first in a whisper, louder each time, until she screams it as the flogger's relentless attention on her clit makes her climax again.
Finally fucking her from behind as her body is draped over the chair, held on only by virtue of the rope.
Feeling her warm embrace and the immediate orgasm that followed, and didn't seem to stop the entire time I was inside her. Hearing her call my name as I give her my cum.
In the end, I undid the elbow and leg ties and the cuffs, letting her collapse into a sweaty, dazed mess on the floor. The simple wooden chair looked ridiculous with empty leather loops and rope hanging loosely over it, and I couldn't be bothered to clean it up yet - I had more important things to do. I picked my wife up and, with some difficulty, carried her over to the bed and tucked her in, then held her close and whispered my love in her ear until she fell into a deep sleep.
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from Gonewild Stories https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/pffnfz/mf_making_things_special_in_our_quarantine/
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