A Lesson Learned

The traffic was surprisingly light. It was turning into a really good day. My work day had been cut short when my out of town clients called to say that there had been a power outage in one of their distribution centres, and they were busy trying to reroute product through other centres. Apparently it was more important than meeting with me to sign the papers for the second round of modifications. So instead of flying to Chicago this afternoon, I was driving home. It was Friday, the sun was out, the top was down, and I was on my way to spend some time with Jenny. I was smiling like a man on top of the world.

I sell a modification to transport truck engines. The state of California changed an emissions law, so every transport operation that runs trucks into California was scrambling to find a solution. My partner Greg, a brilliant engineer, came up with and patented an after-market exhaust kit that not only brings the engine into conformity, but improves mileage. It is typically only an improvement of one or two percent, but when that is worked into the thousands of miles those rigs travel, the system pays for itself in short order. We are busy, and we are making money. Lots of it. Today's trip to Chicago was just a formality. We were nearly done the work on the first two hundred trucks. We would be doing the next two hundred as well, and both sides knew it. We just needed to meet, exchange signatures and have dinner. That's my job. Meet the clients, identify the decision makers, explain the modification, explain the math, pull out the contract, and then go buy dinner for all my new friends. All of my clients pay hand over fist for the exhaust kit and installation, which by contract must be done in our Detroit shop. The best part is that over the life of each truck, with the improved efficiency, they save thousands of dollars, even after paying for the system. Everyone is happy. The boys in Chicago were no exception. They were good clients and new friends. That bit of business wasn't going anywhere.

As I drove down I-96, I felt my phone vibrate. In hindsight, I should never have answered it. I was after all on the interstate without my blue tooth. I was endangering other drivers the moment I answered it. I should have gone with that thought. Had I let the phone go to voicemail and continued home, none of this would have happened. I looked at the display. It was Greg. I answered.

"I spoke to Melissa, and she told me Mackson Logistics had some crazy power problems today." Greg said.

"Yeah, I don't see it being a problem though, it's just a hiccup on the calendar. The guys in the shop won't miss any time though, they still have nearly a month to go on the first order, and we have other work piled up waiting. Oh, and leave Melissa alone. She's getting married." I laughed into the phone.

Greg is my business partner and my best friend. We were friends through high school and university, and he was the best man in my wedding. He had infuriated my bride, Jenny, when he slept with her sister on our wedding night. Greg had said it was the best man's duty to bed the maid of honour. He was an infamous party animal and skirt chaser. He worked hard, and played harder. And it was no secret that he wanted my assistant Melissa.

"I have a quick question. Do you have your clubs in the car?" asked Greg.

"Yeah, why do you need to borrow them?"

"No, I am standing on the putting green of Whitetail and we need a fourth" he replied.

Whitetail is a golf course. Well, not really a golf course, but more of a resort. It is impossible to play. It is beyond private. There are to my understanding, fewer than a dozen local members. It caters to royalty and celebrities from around the world. You don't ask to play it, you are invited. I had always wanted to play it, and had never been given the chance. In fact, I fully expected to live a full long life and never play it.

"How in the hell did you get on?" I asked incredulously.

"Don't ask. Just get here. We tee off in twenty minutes."

"I need to talk to Jenn..." I began.

Greg was gone. I hated that about him. He was terrible on the phone. He never said hello, goodbye, or anything other than the issue at hand. That is of course, unless you were a good looking woman. I bet Melissa had a hell of a time getting him off the line.

I looked at my watch and grimaced. I was lucky that I was fairly close to the course, but it was still going to be close. I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, checked the rear view mirror for police, and bit my lip. I punched the accelerator. With a little luck and no police, I would make it. Thank God the traffic is light, I thought. I couldn't believe it. Holy Crap, I was going to play Whitetail.

As I pulled up to the gate, I was amazed at how hidden it really was. If you didn't know it was there, you would just pass it by, and never be the wiser. You couldn't see any of the course or clubhouse from any of the public roads that encircled it. I know that because I have tried to sneak a glimpse in the past. The landscaping was breathtaking as I drove up the lane. As it slowly opened to the club house, my jaw literally dropped open. This was breathtaking. It was a huge two story building that quite literally looked like it had been plucked from a southern plantation and dropped right here in Southeast Michigan. It had huge sweeping balconies, gorgeous woodwork, and massive windows with impressive flower boxes adorning each one. As I came to a stop, a valet opened the door of the car. I pressed the button to close the roof and pressed the trunk release as the motor whirred to close it up. A course attendant was right there to help retrieve the golf clubs from the trunk. I reached for my golf shoes, as he pulled out the golf clubs, and told me that they would be waiting for me at the first tee. This place didn't miss a beat. It was already surpassing my imaginations of it, and I hadn't even seen a hole yet! I followed the signs towards the first tee, and heard the engine rev in my beloved Cadillac, as the valet drove it away.

I could see Greg and two other men up at what must have been the first tee box. Between them and me was an ornate metal bench with a teenager sitting on a stool to the side. I wasn't quite sure what to make of it. As I approached, I realized the boy had a complete shoe shining kit under him.

"You can leave your shoes here, Sir, and they will be polished and waiting for you inside after your round." he explained. This was just getting better and better.

"Thank you." I said as I sat down and removed my shoes, and pulled on my golf spikes.

Jenny would not believe this place I thought to myself.

"Oh Shit!"I blurted. In my excitement to play this place, I had forgotten about Jenny. Our last conversation would have put me in our driveway ten minutes from now. I could imagine her looking out the window for me. She would probably be in some sort of negligee. Oh God...I felt my pockets for my phone. A sinking feeling came across me as I remembered throwing it onto the passenger seat of the car. I didn't even know where the car was parked right now.

"Sir?" the young man looked confused.

"Oh, nothing, I just forgot to make a phone call, and left my cell in my car." I said, trying to regain my composure. "Is there a phone I can use?"

"Of course, you are welcome to use the phone at the club house, Sir."

"Thanks"

I stood up, and spying the others on the tee, I knew there was no time. I would have to borrow a cell phone from one of them. I left my shoes to the youngster, and made my way to the tee. As promised, my clubs had arrived there before me. Greg was grinning from ear to ear.

"Andy, I would like to introduce you to Allen Richardson, and Ajay Fourmi. These are the fellows from Florida that we spoke about last week." said Greg with a nod and a flash of a serious look.

This was huge. These were the guys that were going to buy a license to install our units in the south. This deal would allow us to get rid of the bottleneck at installation and make a royalty on every unit their shops installed. This was worth a whole lot of money. Everyone here on this tee stood to make a lot of money with this deal.

Each of us shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, and we all set up and took our first tee shots in turn.

"Does anyone have a cell phone I can use?" I asked rather sheepishly.

"No one brings a phone on the course, especially this one." Greg admonished. "You should thank Ajay for getting your ass out here by the way. I do have this though."

Greg pulled out a rather large bottle of Grey Goose vodka. This was going to be one of those afternoons. I groaned inwardly. You could count on Greg to turn any event into a party. Apparently the details of the deal had already been ironed out, and it would now go to the lawyers to be put to paper. Everyone was in party mode. That is, everyone except me. I knew Jenny was going to be really pissed at me.

I would like to tell you that I played the course as it should have been played. It certainly was beautiful. I would like to tell you that we all didn't drink vodka like freshmen at a frat party. I would like to tell you that I remembered to call my wife, Jenny, at the turn between holes nine and ten when we passed the clubhouse again, nearly two hours later. I would like to tell you that I called her the second that the golf was done. I would like to tell you that I didn't stay at the club for dinner, or help polish off what seemed like a vat of red wine. I would like to tell you that I didn't make a fool of myself by trying to drive home. I can't tell you any of those things. Thank God the good folks at the club already had my keys, and wouldn't let me anywhere near my car. Even without driving home, I was in a whole lot of trouble.

I awakened the next morning with a terrible headache. I went into the bathroom to relieve my bladder, and dragged myself back to the bed. As I pulled the covers back over me, Jenny walked into the bedroom, bringing me a very tall glass of orange juice and a couple of aspirins.

"Here drink this. You're going to need it." she said

I couldn't believe it. I knew I loved this woman for a reason. I had completely ditched her in the worst way yesterday, been drunk out of my mind, and probably wrecked a good night's sleep as a result of it. What did I get as punishment? I got a glass of juice in bed.

"Honey, you were really drunk last night. When you are finished that, you should get some more sleep." she purred.

I thought that sounded like a great idea. I sat up, put the aspirins in my mouth and chased them down with the orange juice. I hated that chalky taste of aspirin. I set down the empty glass on the night stand and rolled over and watched as my beautiful wife left the room. Her ass swayed back and forth as she walked out. And her blond hair was down today, reaching most of the way down her back. God she is hot, I thought as I closed my eyes again.

I awoke the second time that morning, and knew that something wasn't right. I had an itch above my eye, and couldn't reach it. My arms wouldn't move. My eyes shot open. As I looked at my arms, I was shocked to see that my wrists were in thick leather cuffs, which were attached to the spindles in the headboard. I pulled my arms as hard as I could, but they would not move. I thought that maybe the spindles would break, but they did not give. The bed had been handmade in Canada by Mennonites. It was a gorgeous mission style bed in solid oak. As I pulled harder, I realized that the only thing that was going to give was my muscles or joints. What the hell was this?

"Jenny!" I yelled as loudly as my lungs would allow while lying on my back with my arms above my head.

"Jenny!" I repeated. I was greeted with silence. What in the name of God was going on?

"Jenny!"

I heard her heels clicking on the hardwood floor downstairs, and the silence as she reached the carpeted stairs. I was shocked for the second time in just a few minutes as she entered our bedroom. She was dressed in black. The boots were insane. They had what had to be a three inch stiletto heel, and were made of soft leather that ran all the way up to the middle of her thighs. She had a very sexy thong that left very little to the imagination, and a bra that looked like it was pushing her wonderful C cup breasts up and out. Some sort of see through black robe like piece of lingerie hung from her shoulders, but remained undone in the front. Jenny looked like she had stepped off the pages of a Victoria's Secret catalogue. I had never seen her look so beautiful. In her hand, she carried a large black purse. It should have struck me as odd.

"Hello Hun, are you ready to pay the piper for your behavior yesterday?" Jenny said, as she tossed the purse to the floor out of my view.

"Jenny, what the hell is this? Take these damn things off!" I exclaimed.

"No, you are going to be wearing those for a while today. Let me tell you about my day yesterday. I was worried sick. You called to say you were on your way home, and I got everything ready for a nice night. A barbecue, a bottle of wine, and a night at home with my man."

"Jenny I am so sorry..." I began.

"Shut up and listen!" snapped Jenny with an edge of venom in her voice that let me know she was serious. "I started to worry. I called your cell phone, and got your voicemail. I waited and waited, worried that you had been in a car wreck, or worse, and that's when your mother showed up. No call, no invitation, she just waltzed in, poured herself some wine, and began to bore me to death with her endless descriptions of every meal she has eaten in the last few weeks."

Jenny sat on the bed beside me as she continued. I could smell her perfume. She smelled incredible. The covers moved a little as she sat, and dragged across my cock with a delicious shock. I realized that I was as hard as a rock.

"I finally began to panic and called Melissa. She told me that you were golfing with Greg. I lost it.", my wife said. "I told her that I wanted to strangle you. Melissa could tell I was fuming and hinted that there were better ways to get even, and I should go meet her for a drink. So I left your mother sitting on the deck, and left to go meet Melissa. You are going to have to call your mother later today I think." laughed Jenny.

"She wanted me to meet her at a bar in Royal Oak. We had a drink, and she helped me hatch a plan. That Melissa is one kinky woman. She took me to an adult store that she frequents, and I spent a little money. Well, actually, a lot of money. And here we are. Today is my day. You will do as I say, or there will be serious consequences."

I was not sure what to make of any of this. My wife had me tied to our bed, my personal assistant seemed to be heavily involved in whatever the hell was going on here, and my wife had just admitted to spending money at a sex store on restraints and God knows what else. I tried to pull my wrists free again, to no avail.

Jenny moved up the bed, and placed a leather covered knee on either side of my head. She reached down and pulled aside the black thong. Her beautiful blond pussy was neatly trimmed and looked fantastic. She looked deeply into my eyes, and repeated, "Today is my day".

I did not need to be given a road map. I loved my wife and her pussy. I began with long licks along her labia taking care to avoid her clit. As her excitement grew, I lengthened the strokes to include her clit. She immediately began to grind herself on my face. I redoubled my efforts, sucking the now larger button between my lips, trapping it, and rapidly whipping it with my tongue. She thrashed her hips back and forth across my lips and nose, cutting off my oxygen supply. I realized that I could not do anything about it. I could not move my arms, and her weight directly on my face was more than I could move with only the muscles in my neck. I had to continue to make her cum in order to get her off me. I was no more than a tool for her to get off on as she ground herself across my face faster and faster. Suddenly, she went rigid and let out what could only be described as a wail, as her juices drenched my face. I savoured her taste as she removed herself from my face.

So far, this wasn't too bad. I loved eating Jenny's pussy. If she wanted to take a little more control in the bedroom, how bad could that be?

Apparently, I was about to find out.

Jenny got off the bed, and reached under it. She pulled out another leather cuff that had a long nylon strap attached to it. She pulled the covers off of my body, and ran the leather around my ankle and buckled it tightly. She then proceeded to do the same to the other ankle.

"See honey, this isn't so hard, is it?" She gave my cock a squeeze as she winked one of her ice blue eyes at me, "Oh, maybe it IS hard!" she giggled.

Jenny stood on the bed, and took the two nylon straps above my head, and fed one, then the other into tightening clips that were attached to the cuffs on my hands. She smiled at me and pulled one strap and then the other. My ankles immediately rose off of the bed and towards my head. This had the effect of raising my ass off of the mattress, and as she continued to pull the straps tighter, separating my legs. I was all of a sudden in a very vulnerable position, and was having none of it.

"Okay Jenny, you've made your point, it's time to end this charade!" I said firmly.

Jenny looked at me with a sly smile and said, "Melissa told me you would probably freak out right about now." She stepped down off of the bed and knelt down. I heard her fumbling in the purse at the side of the bed.

"Jenny, I mean it. Get these God damned restraints off of me. This isn't funny."

Jenny rose back up holding a long piece of leather with a round hole in it about halfway down. I had no idea what it was.

"Open wide, Baby", she cooed.

As she reached toward my face with the thing, I turned my head and clamped my teeth shut. That was not going in my mouth.

"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way." she said without emotion.

I just shook my head. Jenny climbed under the strap holding my ankle, and again, put a knee on either side of my head, holding me in place. She pinched my nose, and pushed the centre of the device against my lips. The hole in the middle was actually a ring made of some sort of hard plastic. Eventually, I could hold my breath no longer, and opened my mouth desperate for a breath. Jenny jammed the ring in past my upper teeth, and then pushed the bottom into place behind my teeth. Before I could push it out with my tongue, she was pulling the ends together behind my head. It took her a few minutes to buckle the ends together, but she held it tightly in place the whole time she struggled to buckle it. Eventually, she fed the strap through, and buckled it tightly.

"There!" she squealed, "That was a bitch, but you're fucked now"

Jenny never swore, but she was right. I was in a very compromised position. I could feel cool air on my anus, my wrists were immobile, my ankles in the air, I had some fiendish gag in my mouth that left my mouth stretched wide open and accessible, but was unable to make any sort of coherent noise.

"Are you comfy, Baby?", she asked. As she climbed back under the strap and knelt down beside the bed.

"Nnnnnng" was all I could respond. Of course I wasn't comfy.

Jenny began rummaging in the purse again. I was beginning to worry about what was next. The crazy thing was that my cock was as really hard. It was like it had a mind of its own.

She set a small bottle beside my head where I could read it. I was now very worried. It was anal lube. And not just anal lube, but warming anal lube. Did they make that? They must, I was staring at a bottle of it. Beside it, Jenny held a large oddly shaped piece of rubber. At the tip, it was round and narrow, and then flared out, getting wider then abruptly became narrow again, with what looked like a stand on the bottom.