Joined by the Trainee Pt. 01

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He waits in bondage for his wife, unaware she brings company.
7.3k words
4.46
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29

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/16/2023
Created 06/28/2018
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I was startled by the sound of two female voices. It was late, and my wife was due back from work. But I had not imagined for a moment that she would be returning home with company. If I had, I wouldn't have put myself in my current predicament.

I was lying on the thick woollen rug before our pot belly stove, and going by the violent crackling and pleasant heat on my bare skin, it must have been fully ablaze by now. I was stark naked, though you might say I 'wore' four... contraptions.

The first was my work handcuffs. I was a cop, and I occasionally stretched some rules like this - like using the handcuffs in the bedroom. Tonight I had attached them to a rope, and tied the other end to a leg of our heavy timber dining table several meters away. This made the cuffs feel real secure clasped above my head. The key I had left on the coffee table, along with a few other instruments for my wife to peruse and abuse at her leisure.

But Angela had not returned alone. I thought about crawling frantically up to the table and freeing the rope, but there was no time. The voices had progressed up the stairs, and now sounded from just behind the front door, I guessed.

I could only guess, because the second item I wore was a beautiful silk blindfold given to us as a wedding present 7 years ago. It hadn't got much use, but it felt so luxuriously deviant wrapped around my face tonight. It had a generous width that, when tied tightly, gave me no avenue for peeking. Indeed, Angie might have trouble recognising me; in addition to my eyes being hidden, my moustache and beard were completely gone. I sported a baby face that she hadn't seen since before we married. I intended it as a symbol of playing the submissive, and hoped she wouldn't be put off by the sudden change.

But I didn't need the privilege of eyesight to realise who the unexpected visitor was. It would be Carmen, my wife's hired hand for her Saturday night market stall. It was a recent decision, to start training someone to take over manning the stall, to give us our date night back. Someone young, someone just out of high school - someone who would work for peanuts. And as it turned out, that someone was a girl.

You could certainly say that I was reinstating the date nights a little prematurely with this stunt! Our marriage was, despite being childless thus far, being strained to its limits, mostly thanks to my job. Police had been grossly overworked of late, thanks to some dumb promises made by our new state government at the last election. 'We will crack down on late night crime without blowing out the budget'. In other words, I was getting plenty of extra shifts, but what we really needed was a lot more cops.

Anyway, Angela and I hadn't had sex in a few months, and tonight was the first chance I'd had in a long while to surprise her - with her being out of the house for the whole evening, and myself - I had enjoyed the whole day off. This in itself was a rare occasion - a whole day off, and not just because I had worked all the previous night. I had finished at a reasonable 5pm yesterday. So, for once, I wasn't too exhausted to spend some quality time with my wife. And I had woken up this morning decided that it was time to carry out a little plan I had been brewing. Just a little something to help rekindle the spark in our marriage.

My plot wasn't that elaborate - it didn't really extend beyond presenting myself naked and bound for Angela, with some toys for her to play with. Some of those toys were attached securely to my body. I had locked my cock up in 'the gates of hell' - three metal rings joined by a leather strap. Well, 'locked' was the wrong word. The contraption might have looked a bit like a metal chastity cage to the naive and the innocent, but it served the opposite purpose. It was essentially a cock ring in that it helped facilitate an erection (as opposed to preventing one!) And while the leather strap might make intercourse uncomfortable for a woman, the possibility was still there, along with whatever other fun could be imagined with the head of the penis exposed and full of blood.

Suffice to say, my equipment was presently hoisted at full mast, and to be witnessed by a teenage girl in such a state was, dare I say, fairly inappropriate. This wasn't just about exposing one's nudity, this was highly sexualised kinky shenanigans. But regardless of what was appropriate or decent, apparently the prospect of being discovered like this did nothing to change my state down there. But more importantly...

Carmen. I had not met her. Had no idea what she looked like, but she was an eighteen year old first year student looking for work just one night a week to make a little cash. Eighteen. And female. That was all I needed to know and my present excitement would be obvious enough when the women blundered inside. But my arousal was so inappropriate! Carmen was effectively just a teenager who still lived with her parents. No way would she know how to process what she about to see.

I tried to call out for them not to come inside, but my voice was a muffled sound consisting of zero intelligible words. See, the final apparatus I had burdened myself with was a dildo gag, which included a few inches that went into my mouth. Purchased online along a few weeks ago along with the gates of hell, I had felt suitably nervous about presenting both concepts to my wife. I guessed that with me biting on the part that was in my mouth, the other, longer end of the dong would be suitably stabilised for a woman to have herself a wild ride on it. Of course, this meant the thing doubled up as a gag. An effective one too, strapped tight around my head as it was. And I no longer had the free use of my hands to take it off.

As I heard the door handle turn, I realised there was nothing I could do but lie there looking completely ridiculous and lewdly exposed. It had taken courage to do this just for Angela's amusement, but the presence of her +1 was sending me into panic.

I held my breath as the door opened, nervously awaiting the reactions.

Two feminine gasps sounded in unison, and then there was a long awkward pause.

"What the fuck?!" I recognised Angela's voice - loud and deep, but more surprised than angry. Another pause, and then I heard her chuckle. I was glad she was not angry. And then another, unfamiliar giggle joined in, soft and full of nerves.

"Oh... you nasty pervert. Is this seriously how you welcome a teenage girl into our home?" Again, Angela wasn't angry. I knew her angry voice. So what was this? It was almost like she had expected to walk into something untoward. But if she had suspicions about what I was planning, why would she bring Carmen back to the house?

"Oo-roo-wa-roo!" My gag-speak sounded pathetic as I tried to protest that I didn't know Carmen would be coming. I still couldn't work out why she would be here so late at night - why on earth didn't she just go home after they had packed down?

But such regrets were useless. The girl was here now - and had seen it. She was looking at me, reduced to the most compromised state I was able to dream up. Nothing could change that now, and all that was left was to do the right thing. Except that I wasn't in a position to do much at all.

"Ummm, I think I'll just get an Uber..." Carmen was understandably uncomfortable.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie!" Angela apologised on my behalf. "I won't let you do that though. I'll take you home myself and leave my idiot husband in that state until I get back, but... Could you go and fix yourself a drink in the kitchen? I need to talk to Donnie alone for a minute."

"Ummm, sure thing, boss-lady," Carmen's response included a strange nickname for my wife. 'Boss-lady'. I can see that. And I might just try it out for myself tomorrow. I guessed the outsider was walking out of the room, but she must have been light on her feet as I heard nothing on the timber floorboards. Then, I sensed my wife nearby - she was getting down in level with my face. Please Angie, take pity on me...

"Oh, you silly, wonderful man," she said softly. "Look at all this you've done, for me." I felt her breath hotly on my face, and then a warm kiss was planted where my moustache used to be. It felt tingly and sensual, and instantly I craved another one, wondering why I didn't go clean-shaven more often.

"What on earth are all these toys?" She grabbed the dong protruding from my face and wiggled it gently. Then she repeated the gesture to the flesh and blood version. The sensation was electric pleasure, but she took her hand away immediately. I groaned in frustration. Then there was a pause and I heard the rustle of her pants as she scooted to the coffee table.

"Its kinda hot, but you also look really silly. Do you feel silly, Donnie?" I did feel silly, but I kept still and silent. I wanted to appear confident about this whole setup, even though I was feeling very little confidence right now.

"Just look at all this... stuff! What is this little thing meant to do?" There came the sound of dozens of little rubber fronds flicking through the air before they struck softly into my leg; it seemed that Angela had found the flogger. It was a small thing, especially intended for use on the more... sensitive parts of the body. I wondered if she would figure that out, and if she would use it in the place I would feel it most.

"Oooh, but I love the candle. We used one of these before once when we were still dating! I had forgotten about how sexy that night had been."

I too remembered that night, so many years ago. And I remembered it well. We were only a few weeks into our courtship, and had yet to make love together. But we were enjoying teasing each other, building up the sexual tension and falling head over heels in love. She had been so anxious that night; tied up, stark naked and blindfolded (much like I was now), her youthful skin glowing in the warm light of the candles I had set up around the nest of cushions on which she lay still, submissive to me.

I had intended to leave her panties on since I hadn't rounded that base yet, but changed my mind after she made a coy comment. Something like, "It's a good thing you're such a gentleman, because I feel pretty safe so long as I have my panties on". Just provoking me with the word 'panties' might have been enough to bring out the animal in me, but more importantly - I didn't want her to feel safe, I wanted her to fret that the next drop of wax could land anywhere. Angela had cried out in protest when I hooked my hands under the waistband of her pink and purple lace underwear, but she also lifted her butt and kept her thighs close together, accommodating me as I relieved her of her final scrap of modesty.

I took my time sliding her panties down her legs, and most distinctly I remember a wet, sparkling thread that stretched between the gusset of the garment, and the curly hairs that masked her vulva. The thread stretched, stretched, and finally snapped, landing on golden thighs that trembled before my scrutiny. I had smiled to myself - my little game had got her rather aroused, and that stroked my ego and made me more confident about what would come next.

Angela had squealed and thrashed about as I dripped the melting wax over her belly, her chest, and a little on her medium sized breasts. She looked so cute as she squirmed and begged for mercy, while keeping her thighs locked together so tightly that I was getting little benefit from my decision to relieve her of her underwear. I held the candle high above her, so that the wax would have only packed a mild sting by the time it struck her skin, but still she whimpered and protested, and made all kinds of promises to me, promises of sexual gratification if only I would stop.

And stop I did. Tormenting her never got less fun, but I caved to her sweet pleas for mercy, and besides, I was curious about flipping the tables with her. But after releasing her, I soon learned the hypocrisies of my new girlfriend. Suffice to say that when it was her turn to hold the candle she had been... Less kind.

She had ordered me to strip, and I obeyed. She regarded my manhood with hungry eyes - it was the first time she had seen him outright, and at full mast it was to be a well-made impression. She tied my hands and feet, but chose not to fully reciprocate the setup I had used on her - she left out the blindfold. She had remained nude herself as she had tortured me with that candle, permitting me to watch her body and learn every secret square inch of flesh. Angela made the most beautiful tormentress, a slim girl with long brown hair, lively green eyes and olive skin. I stared for long continuous minutes at her supple breasts topped by pale pink, provocatively protruding nipples.

The view was a fair compensation for the pain I had to endure, for now that it was her turn to dish out the punishment, Angela chose to hold the candle just above my skin, so that I could feel it's heat even between each scalding drip - drips which she was able to place exactly where she wanted. We had no place else to be that night, and she took her time on me - returning my 'affections' ten, or perhaps even twenty fold. She made no effort to conceal her excitement as she tortured me, and she ended up finding herself comfortably straddling my waist - my hard penis brushing against her buttocks - and I could feel the wetness from her vagina each time she moved slightly. The candle burned past half way, but except for my frequent gasps of pain, I made no complaints.

And later, when she deemed it was time to wax up my thighs and legs, she had reverse straddled me.

That night I learned two things - that my new girlfriend had a mean streak in her, and that I was hopelessly infatuated with her rear end. You see she didn't just sit on my stomach, she got down on her elbows and knees, and, well, I could see everything. Angela had a wonderfully rounded, slightly generous bottom, the kind that would receive an appropriate share of spankings - although not on that night. That night, all I could do was stare at that booty, all spread out for me, and in the center; her little brown asshole was a puckered delight, a delicate flower that needed to be sniffed and appreciated.

But the real obsession for me was her petal-like pink pussy lips that had been lewdly engorged as she joyously went about her work, and, coated in her moisture, they glistened beautifully in the candle light. It took her a long time to tire of decorating my thighs with the hot wax, and she made sure that she got as close to my genitals as she could without touching them. I knew she was thinking about it - she kept threatening to drip it there as she talked dirty to me, and thus she kept me perpetually nervous about it.

But instead of finishing by pouring hot wax on my rock hard cock, she blew out that candle, backed her ass right up and into my eager face - and planted her own mouth firmly around my nervous, twitching rod.

"Only this time, I think I'll burn it till there's nothing left." The threat brought me back from memory lane and into the present. "But, I don't think I'll have any need for this thing." I had no idea what item she was indicating, and she laughed. "It's the key to your handcuffs darling!"

I heard the swish of her pants again, and then felt her hot breath in my ear as she began to whisper to me.

"I'm going to punish you for exposing yourself to that poor innocent girl, that's for sure. But I really am going to have to leave you like this while I drive her home." She kissed me on the forehead, but lingered another moment.

"Thank you, by the way. I've wanted to do something, you know, for us, for a long time now. But it was too embarrassing to go through with any of my ideas. I'm glad you took the initiative in the end. I love you!" She kissed me again, and jumped up.

"Oh, Carmen!" Her voice carried no subtle measure of surprise, like we had just got sprung in an intimate moment. I couldn't see our guest, but I reflected that this was about the most 'sprung' I had been in my life.

"Sweetie, is that... Wine?"

"Ummm, sorry. You said to fix myself a drink, and I saw the bottle, so..." Carmen's voice was sweet and obviously youthful. I wanted to shake off my blindfold and take a look at her, but just hearing her voice made my body freeze with shame and despair for my condition.

"Well, yes, I did say that. But aren't I taking you home now?"

There was a pause, then, "If you want to, boss-lady. But we only just got here, so I figured you might want to relax a bit first. Or something". Carmen's words were tainted with uncertainty, but there was a kind of intense quality there. Like she was hopeful about staying here, to do whatever business related thing the two of them had been planning on. It was like I was not even in the room at all - never mind the state I was in.

"Hmmm..." Angela sounded thoughtful. "You did pour me a glass as well, at least." Soon after, there was a chink of glasses and I guessed the girls were tasting the wine. I heard whispers, and an unfamiliar giggle. Then, my wife's whisper returned - right next to my ear.

"Well Donnie, it seems our guest isn't too scared off after all. If she stays, I don't know what will happen. I will probably be meaner to you just to impress her." Whispering in my ear about being 'mean', whatever that entailed, sounded so sexy and terrifying. "And if there's anything she wants to do, I don't think I'll be likely to stop her. So I'm going to ask you now. Do you want her to stay? Nod if you want her to stay, or shake if you want me to take her home."

I hesitated. Certainly the presence of Carmen was already taking my sexy little night to a whole new level of excitement. No - this wasn't just a next-level version of my plan, it was an entirely new concept. We were not swingers, and there had never been any serious talk about inviting another man or woman, or girl, into our bed. I didn't even know what she looked like, but upon hearing her voice I had begun picturing her as a most lovely creature indeed.

But wait, what if this were a test? I could just shake my head, and I was sure I would score points with my wife for my loyalty. She would take Carmen home, there would be little harm done, and then she would eventually return and we could go back to the fantasy night I had set up. Or, Angela might claim to be too tired by then, as she often did.

My head swam. There was no use pretending that deep down I didn't desperately want to nod. I didn't know what would happen if I did, if I would still have a marriage by tomorrow, but I really wanted to nod. I was sure I would regret it forever if I didn't allow Carmen to stay and join us in whatever capacity, whether she would just be watching, or getting more... involved.

And that was it for me. I nodded. Angela chuckled. She didn't sound hurt or disappointed in any way. I hoped I had made the right decision! Then my wife spoke again. "You nasty old perv" - but she said it with affection. "Carmen, sweetie, come and sit close by." A moment later I felt, more than heard, the presence of the young girl sitting alongside me. "Good girl. Now, say hi to my husband Donnie."

"Ummm, hi Donnie," My body coursed with lust just hearing her say my name in that innocent girlish voice, which sounded closer to my ear than I had expected. Cock-twitchingly close, and I was imagining that the voice belonged to the most beautiful girl in the world. For all I knew it may have.

"Now, Donnie can't say 'hi' back, but I'm sure he would like to. Instead, he's put himself in this precarious situation, and we can do whatever we want with him."

"Wh-what kind of things should we do?" Her curious reply made my heart melt. Could she really be so innocent?

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