Doctor's Orders

One night, after watching baseball on TV, all was quiet in the house, and he wondered where she was. It was time to go to bed, and they usually went together. He found her already in their bed, eyes closed, legs spread wide, with a huge black vibrator humming noisily as she cycled it in and out of her cunt. A welcome sight, yes, but where did she get the vibrator? She already had a couple of others. Why that one? It was certainly fatter, thicker than his cock, by far. And black. It contrasted nicely against her flushed skin, but why black? What part of town had she been in to buy it? Despite being disturbed, his cock throbbed at the sight, and he was in need of release. He didn't know if she knew he was there or not, but with the TV off downstairs, she probably did. He found his release on her breasts. Hot cum splashed across her tits, and she didn't even open an eye. That was one of her favorite turn-ons. Just what was the fantasy she was into?

He recorded the date on his calendar. It was curious, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to talk to Hayley about their sex life. With her being so aggressive, it seemed like she would bring it up, but she didn't. In fact, she seemed to avoid the subject, and had avoided the subject over the past months, almost as if it had never happened. He brooded with suspicion.

The "events," as he recorded them, he realized were very easy to identify. The next event happened while shopping at the mall. When clothes shopping, he was in the habit of finding a seat, or more often, standing near the women's dressing room in those stores that didn't provide seats, a pet peeve. Hayley would step out periodically to see how he liked the outfits she was trying on. At Macy's, on an obviously slow night, after trying on several evening dresses that hadn't quite worked, she stepped into the dressing room entry area naked, except her heeled leather shoes. She had taken a chance that nobody would be around, and he hadn't paid any attention to where the security cameras were. She struck a pose, reflected on all sides by the mirrors placed there. She stretched out a hand and curled a finger in invitation. He accepted. He couldn't help but wonder if others didn't notice the smell of sex that went with them as they left the store ten minutes later. He later recorded the date on his calendar.

Hayley had been horny for over a day. She had seen the chiropractor the day before, and her back felt great. It had been giving her problems lately, but the adjustments seemed to work. She had really wanted to jump Steven's bones when he returned home the day before, but she had an idea that required more time, and she put it to work. She had written a note to Steven and placed it on his passenger seat late the night before, so that he would find it on his way to work. It said, "When you come home, I'll be cumming too. On the deck." That would give him something to think about. And it had given her something to do. She looked down at her cunt. It was a little sensitive, but it looked remarkably different without the curls of her brunette hair. She replaced the razor on the soap dish and rinsed herself with water. He would like this. She better follow through with some wax to make sure all the hair was gone. Once this was done, she abated the stinging with some lotion. She inspected herself in the mirror, covering her face with her hands, embarrassed at the sight of her own clit, sticking out, asking for attention. She gave it a little rub, which sent jolts of pleasure through her. She stopped, feeling it was wrong to pleasure herself, as if it might somehow stop her from giving her all to her husband. Besides, she had some painting to do.

It had been another week since our clothes shopping expedition and the note Steven found in his car said it was time for another "event." A few newspapers were on their neighbor's driveway, so he assumed they were away. Besides, their deck was relatively private when leaves were on the trees. That was good, as he had no doubt that whatever she had planned on the deck would have to include sex and nudity. In fact, he recorded it on the calendar before he arrived home. There wasn't much risk involved with the neighbors away, but exhibiting herself in any way on the deck was still completely out of character for her, at least, until recently. He hadn't gotten much accomplished at work, his thoughts always drifting to what he might find at home. He had called, but there was no answer. The thought of her having an affair kept recurring, and he had decided that he might follow her around the next week. It would be easy enough to appear "out on sales calls." He parked the car in the garage. Although he had suspicions, it didn't stop him from being excited about the prospects awaiting him.

He found her, as the note had said, on the back deck, with her hands pumping the black vibrator in and out of her cunt. She was reclining in one of their swivel deck chairs, with an unusual looking bikini. He approached her. Ahhh, she was wearing paint. She had used fluorescent body paint that they had purchased years ago at a gag store and never used. She had painted her nipples orange, one breast "cup" blue and the other green. Pink "strings" completed the bikini top. The "bottoms" were also pink, and he realized, happily, that her cunt was shaved to allow for the paint. She had shaved herself once a couple of years earlier, with the comment afterwards that she would never do it again, due to the itching that followed. Well, she had lied.

No shorts, T-shirt, or even a towel could be seen anywhere on the deck. Her head was leaned back against the chair, her eyes were closed, her legs were wide open, and her feet were propped up on a couple of upside down flowerpots. It was a new standard for brazen exhibition of her sex. He removed her hands, kneeling between her legs, and worked the vibrator himself. She never opened her eyes, but gave herself to the sensations, both vocally and by rocking her hips into the vibrator. After several minutes, having increased the speed of the penetrations, she came loudly. He sure hoped the neighbors weren't home. He helped her up and led her to the deck railing. In a rare instance of self- control, he enjoyed her slick, hot, cunt for half an hour, with her leaning over the handrail, her breasts swaying in time with the pace of his slow thrusts, before he went over edge and came in her.

Steven was not at all pleased when he soon afterwards walked to the mailbox to get the mail, and saw their neighbor, a married man, mouth the words "THANK YOU" while picking up his newspapers from the driveway, 40 yards away. Steven's face turned red as he heard a chuckle, and he only hoped that this was the first, and last, time his neighbor had seen Hayley naked. Hayley had never said anything about him, and they had remained only acquaintances despite having lived beside each other for over 5 years. He was a computer techie of some sort, Steven couldn't recall. They didn't have much in common. Still, Steven couldn't help but put him on his imaginary "possible affair partner" list. It was now a list of one. On the other hand, he realized how awkward it was going to be around him at the neighborhood party that weekend. And, presumably, awkward around his wife, assuming he told her. Or was she home, too? Oh, man...

A week later was "that time of the month." Nothing was likely to happen in "event" terms, and... nothing happened. A week afterwards, however, he decided that the time was right to follow Hayley around a bit. He parked the car near the entrance to their neighborhood. He had no good place to "hide" as far as watching wherever she might go on foot, such as their neighbor's house. Their neighbor didn't really seem her type, but he was becoming less sure now of what her "type" might be. He didn't have to wait in the car too long, however. Shortly after 8:00, her van left the neighborhood, and he followed, a discrete two or three cars behind.

She stopped at an ATM machine, then continued on. This was pretty cool. Steven, Private Investigator. He admitted to himself that he didn't expect to find anything unusual, so he approached this day with a certain amount of humor. Her second stop was the chiropractor. That lasted about 30 minutes. Another $30 gone. After that, she went to Wal-Mart. This took her about an hour, coming out with two plastic bags of what looked like cosmetics and some hardware. He wondered what PI's listen to in their cars. Steven, PI, was having a tough time of it. Talk radio seemed to be saying the same thing 20 different ways. FM music was pretty much the same old stuff he already had at home, if he liked it. He should have gotten a book-on-tape or something.

Hayley pulled into Home Depot. So did he. Maybe Wal-Mart didn't have everything she needed. For what? He didn't know. She had never really repaired anything before, but she could get very motivated in her hobbies. Another sack accompanied her return to the van. She drove maybe half an hour to another part of town, where she pulled into a small restaurant. That was good. He was getting hungry too. She sat at the window of the restaurant, obviously waiting for someone. He'd wait, too. After a few more minutes, her friend Denise entered the restaurant. That made sense. Denise worked in this part of town. He drove off to a Wendy's drive-thru before resuming his watch. There wasn't much to watch. After an hour or so, Hayley drove home. And he figured he better make at least one sales call, so he called it a day for his PI job. Steven checked his voice mail and found that another customer needed to see him in the late afternoon. He called Hayley on the cell phone and let her know he'd be returning, he thought, around 7:30 or so and not to cook for him. He'd get a free dinner, at least.

Hayley's pulse raced. She had so much to do, to try. She unloaded her bags from the van, left them in the garage, and went into the kitchen. The phone ring startled her. It was Steven. The short of it was that he would be home late and she knew when. Good. This gave her even more time to do something she had never even thought about before. She fixed herself a Coke, found an old comforter they sometimes used as a picnic blanket and returned to the garage. She opened the first sack. Cosmetics. She put that by the door to the kitchen. The second sack. What WAS she doing? She felt she HAD to do this. The thought terrified her, but at the same time, her cunt was becoming wet. What had happened to her?

She enjoyed making love, but even more enjoyed the unexpected hug. Flowers. A passionate kiss in a setting where sex was not expected. Holding hands while walking. Good conversation over a dinner out. Just a look that says, "I love you." And making love that included a comfortable bed, sheets, background lighting, or perhaps a fire in the fireplace. And here she was, her thoughts captive to what she assumed were Steven's sexual desires...the love was there, but it was focused more on the sexual act, not the sensuality. A rough fuck...nudity in the house...nudity out of the house...displaying her cunt to him like a slut...sucking his cock...swallowing his cum. Avoiding these things had come naturally to her. It just wasn't romantic. These things she did only rarely, on special occasions, and only if he had been meeting her needs. Recently, however, it seemed she couldn't orgasm unless she was breaking her own standards for what she regarded as appropriate in marital lovemaking. Were her needs changing?

Hayley looked at the items she had purchased, and realized with a start that her hands had been fingering her clit and that she was about to cum. She stopped. She couldn't do that until later. She had to give Steven all of her love, her body, her sex, and if she came now, she would be "less" later. Or, she might chicken out. But she knew she wouldn't. She had to fulfill him. She needed to be had, to be taken, just like the heroine in the romance novel she had read. Who had she talked to about that book? Her thoughts became confused, and she went in search of Steven's tools.

As the garage door opened, Steven began pulling the car inside and was astonished by what was in the sight of the headlights. He had to brake, rather hard, and pull the car back out. He stared at Hayley from within his car. His wife was in the garage, kneeling on a blanket in the floor. She was facing the garage door, naked except for panties, which apparently held a vibrator in her cunt. The panties were soaked. Across her chest she had written "fuck me" in large letters with a black magic marker. Her hands were behind her back, and ropes were tied around her arms, each connected to eyebolts mounted on the ceiling. Her eyes were covered by a blindfold. Her lips had the glossiest, bright red lipstick he had ever seen. He turned off the car, went inside the garage and closed the garage door, thankful that their neighbors were not outside.

After the garage door opener stopped, all he could hear was the muted rumbling from the vibrator within her, and rather quick breaths from his wife. He found that her hands were tied behind her back. She couldn't separate her wrists. She could stand or sit, and that was about it. He didn't see any possible way that she could get herself free. He didn't see any way possible that she could tie herself up like that, either. Who helped her? Then he saw the slipknots, and it appeared to make a little sense how she could have bound herself.

He knew he had told her what time he would be home, and he was perhaps an hour later than that. How long had she been like this? Then he noticed her kneepads. She had thought about this, prepared for it. Her trip to Home Depot made sense. This chick needed to be fucked.

Steven stripped out of his clothes and began to lightly touch her - her chin, her cheeks, her ears, her shoulders, the side of a breast, her thigh. He didn't say anything. If she wanted the blindfold, then she obviously wanted some mystery. She hadn't said a word either. Whatever fantasy this was, he was willing to step right into it. In fact, he had dreamed something close to it himself. He untied the ropes to the ceiling, but left her hands tied behind her. He gently leaned her forward, so that her head was on the blanket. She still hadn't said a word. As he went behind her, he lowered her panties, and removed the vibrator that, judging by her soaking panties, had been inside her for a long time. He moved forward, and placed the vibrator at her lips, catching her by surprise. Still, she managed to lick some of it as he spiraled it past her mouth. He turned it off, and squeezed her nipple, slightly, then harder, as she remained bent over. He was afraid he might have squeezed it to roughly when a small squeak emerged from her. He moved behind her.

Her ass now raised, her cunt visible, he saw that she had written, not to neatly, but in small block letters, "H A R D" across her butt, in red ink. Of course. A two sided message, "fuck me, HARD." The light on the garage door opener turned off, and it was almost black in the garage. He slid a finger between her legs, probing the slick wetness of her cunt. The heat she was generating took him by surprise. His fingers followed the trail of her juices, finding both of her thighs soaked. An hour like this? Longer probably. He inserted two fingers straight into her cunt. She shuddered. He found her special little spot, not her G-spot, but a ripple slightly larger than others in her vaginal canal, and pressed it with his fingertips. Her moans filled the garage. He alternated pressing her spot and retreating, until she seemed too tired to moan any longer. Her body began convulsing, forcing her cunt against his finger. The feelings this spot produced she had always said were "too intense." Apparently not this time.

Enjoying her vulnerability, he inserted a third finger, pushing them in as far as he could go, then spreading them as much as possible. His fingers didn't seem to stretch her as much as he expected, probably because of the size of the vibrator. He fucked her, not to carefully, with his fingers, enjoying the feel of her clit and bare pubic mound with his other two fingers. He removed his fingers and smelled them. Her juices smelled good...fresh, if that was possible. In fact, she smelled good all over. She had prepared herself well.

He lowered his head carefully, and without any warning, gave her cunt a wide lick with his tongue. She jerked in surprise. He did it again, because he could. She couldn't do anything about it. Hayley, for whatever reason, hated oral sex on her. She had never explained it, but now she was hardly in a position to refuse. He wanted to do this some more, but the position was uncomfortable, and to roll her over would mean that he would have to untie her hands.

So, he fucked her, hard. Just like the sign said... He relished the power of fucking a bound woman, a helpless woman, and loved it that it was his wife offering herself to him in this way. She apparently shared this excitement. The garage was unfinished, and her shrieks seemed to echo through the room, and he worried that the neighbors might hear. Then, caught in his own passion, he decided, so what?

The sex had been fantastic. After Steven came in her, she hadn't counted on him extending his opportunity for playing with her body. It shouldn't have surprised her, though. That's just the way it was in her story. The man tied the girl up, raped her, and then played with her body until he tired of it. Steven had untied her hands, and she thought that was the end of it. Then he rolled her over and tied her hands to the ropes connected to the ceiling. Then, after a brief absence, during which he apparently found more rope, he somehow tied her legs open. He had feasted on her pussy. He had called it that, knowing that she didn't like the term, saying that her pussy tasted so good. She didn't particularly agree, but had no choice in that position but to kiss him, her juices on his breath. And certainly he had his content of groping her breasts. It seemed like he had played with them for hours. Maybe he had. Then he had fucked her again. He lasted so long when he was able to fuck her a second time. That, she hadn't wanted to stop. Secure in her own house, but tied up and at the mercy of a man. Her body shivered again. He left her down there alone for a while, still with the blindfold on.

She could tell by the plumbing sounds that he had taken a shower. She had heard him descend the steps, then whisper her name - "Hayleyyyy..." A smile had formed on her lips, then faded abruptly as she realized he had taken a Polaroid picture of her. What a mess she must have looked. Why would he want a picture? That reminded her of something, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

When he had freed her, she went to take a shower, noticing that he had again written "FUCK ME" on her, this time with a black magic marker. She didn't remember him doing this. She felt confused, and a part of her wondered if she was losing her mind. Still, she felt like she had a purpose, and even though she didn't know what it was, it had been met. Hayley cried a little that night. It wasn't Steven's fault. She was frustrated because she didn't understand herself. After a couple hours of tossing and turning, her body fell into a sound, needed, sleep.

Another week, another "event." Steven was paying bills and balancing the checkbook on the computer, when he heard Hayley make some noises in the kitchen. The freezer door, perhaps. He went back to what he was doing, when he heard her say behind him, "You will kneel before me." He turned around, and he was stunned. Besides the vibrator, Hayley had made another purchase. She had purchased leather boots that went to her knees, and the boots had at least 3" heels. This drew her leg muscles wonderfully taught, but his eyes couldn't linger there. He couldn't stare at her bare cunt or her exposed breasts either. Both of her arms were covered with leather gloves, which extended almost up to her shoulder.