Just an Old-Fashioned Romance

Introduction:

This story is intended to be a modern romance with a kinky twist. For the romance, I've worked hard to provide sympathetic characters, an interesting story, and, of course, a happy ending. For the kink, I've provided BDSM, non-consent, incest, anal, minor scat, exhibitionism, implied gay, mature, interracial, and group. Please let me know if I succeeded with either the romance or the kink. Or, best of all, if I succeeded in blending them together.

My first scene was inspired by Cockatoo's "The Bondage Bench." If you read his excellent story, you will find an unmistakable family resemblance.

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Act 1:

"Do you remember what the box looked like?"

"Yea, Jake. I think it was yellow with 'Tom's Photo Shop' on it."

It was a Saturday morning and the first really warm day of the year. Carol was wearing a tube top and shorts and looking just as good as it's possible for a stunning redhead to look and still be legal, as Carol and Jake searched through the basement of Jake's house looking for a box of pictures from their childhood.

Jake led the way through the piled up memories, some of them too valuable to throw away, some of them too painful.

"I remember seeing it, but it's been years. I think it was over here. What do you want them for?"

"I was telling Karen about them last night and she wanted to see them."

Carol and Jake had grown up next door to each other until her father's business took off and her family moved into the big house at the edge of town. She was the major love of his life from the time he first discovered what girls were. They had always been very close, but, at her insistence, it was brother and sister close, and Jake had married someone else. That marriage ended a couple of years earlier when his wife died of cancer.

"Well, we've looked in all the obvious places. I'll get a flashlight and start moving some of this stuff around so we can look behind it."

Jake was a good-looking, caring, intelligent man with an ironic sense of humor and considerable quiet charm, but Carol had never taken him seriously as a love interest. Part of the reason may have been the difference in their heights, Carol was three inches taller than Jake and had been since they were teenagers together. That didn't mean Jake was short, he was a perfectly respectable five foot eleven, but Carol had grown to be six foot two, which made the fact that she was taller than him noticeable, especially if she was wearing heels. Also, he wasn't obviously muscular. He had a lean runner's body with more bulk in the arms and shoulders from summers spent working construction to earn money for school. It was firm and strong, but not showy; like the rest of him--quiet. Carol went for the bulky, domineering, exploiter types, and her life had been one abusive relationship after another. In the last couple of years, she'd added drinking too much, experimenting with drugs and unprotected sex with strangers. And, when she landed on her ass--again, Jake was always there to pick her up and take her home. Good old dependable Jake.

"Wait. What's in here, Jake? We haven't looked in here yet."

"No! It's not in there! Carol, don't go in there!"

"What secrets are you hiding in this room, Jake? I want to see."

"Damn it, Carol! Don't go in there!"

"Oh! Is that what I think it is? I had no idea you were such a pervert!"

What she was referring to was a bondage bench Jake built for his late wife, Mary. It was a narrow padded bench with a couple of planks with padded wrist holes between them, like eighteenth century pillory stocks, at one end, and split to hold the victims legs apart at the other. Straps for chest, waist, thighs and ankles were located at appropriate places along its length.

After Mary died Jake left the bench and the room that held it pretty much untouched. It was Mary's special room: her playground, and became even more important to her after her illness, and the equally debilitating medical treatment, robbed her of her hair, her figure, and eventually all sensation in her body. When all she could feel was pain and nausea, she could still enjoy the fantasy. Even two years later, deciding what to do with the room was just too painful for Jake to face.

"Come on, Carol! It's not that big a deal! Don't tell me you haven't experimented a little yourself."

"A little, yes. But I never built an entire dungeon! Oh, I can't wait to tell Karen! No wonder you wanted me to come down to the basement. You wanted to get me into your lair."

Karen was Carol's roommate. She was, if possible, even more self-destructive than Carol, and a compulsive gossip. Nothing was private once Karen knew it.

"Carol, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Karen. This is a little personal, you know."

"Ha! Tell her what? That you're a closet perv? That you lured me down here with wicked designs on my body?"

She climbed on the table, and pushed her hands through the holes in the head board.

"Oooooh noooo! I'm caught and can't get away! Ooooh, Sir, what do you mean to doooo with me?"

The reason Mary and Jake had chosen the stocks design instead of wrist cuffs was because it allowed Mary to bond herself. When she wanted to play on the bench, she would take off her clothes, buckle on the ankle cuffs, put on the blindfold, shove her hands through the holes in the head board, and wait for Jake to come home from work. The way the padding in the wrist holes was slanted made it easy to push through but impossible to pull back out. The weight of the upper plank and the lack of leverage from lying flat on her back with her arms extended above her head made it difficult, but not impossible, to lift the top plank and escape. Jake had insisted on that safety feature. But, there was a trick to it and it took a while to figure out if you didn't already know it. Mary had insisted on the trick so it wouldn't feel too easy to escape and spoil the illusion.

Carol wiggled her hips and spread her legs to match the shape of the bench.

"Ha ha! Help, oh hellllp! I'm facing a fate worse than death! Come on, Jake. Aren't you going to finish strapping me down? Then what do you do, whips and chains? Come on, show me your nasty tricks."

Although she was very attractive in her shy way, Mary was not beautiful, rich or smart; and Jake knew all along he was not in love with her in the same way he had always loved Carol. But she was a kind, generous and courageous woman who just happened to like bondage. Her memory deserved better than the obscene mockery taking place in front of his eyes, and about to be spread all over town as soon as Carol could find some of her friends to laugh over it with.

"Actually, Carol, I built the bench, as well as the rest of this room, at Mary's request. She liked bondage quite a lot. Toward the end it was one of the few pleasures left to her. She didn't tell anyone because she was worried people would make fun of her, just as you're doing now. She was afraid it would be spread all over town, just as you're planning to do as soon as you leave here. You know how shy she was, and how puritanical her family is."

"Ah, shit! It was just a joke! I didn't know this was Mary's!"

"Or care?"

"Damn it! Why do you say that? I told you it was just a joke!"

"Well, you were about to share the details of my sex life with Karen, which is the same thing as spreading it all over town. Who did you think I was having the sex with? You know I didn't cheat when she was alive, and you know I haven't dated since she died. Who else could it have been? If you're laughing with Karen over me being a pervert, you're laughing at Mary, too."

"That's it! I'm outa' here! Help me off this thing, I'm stuck!"

"Yes, that's the way we designed it."

"Damn it! Help me up! I'm leaving!"

"Not for a while yet, Carol."

"This isn't funny, Jake! Let me go, right now!"

"Oh, I'll let you go, all right. And when I do, I want you to get the hell out of my life and stay out! I don't ever want to see you or hear from you again! But first, I think I ought to show you exactly what it is you're laughing at."

"That's not funny, Jake. Let me outa' here. Damn it! What the hell are you doing?"

Jake pulled off her sandals.

"I'm taking your clothes off. It's customary, you know. I understand there are special costumes for it, but Mary and I always did bondage nude."

"You're in trouble now, buddy! This is rape!"

"Yes, I suppose it is. Oh, lighten up, Carol! It's not like I haven't seen it all before. Usually in the shower, washing the cum and the puke off before carrying you home."

Jake reached up and tugged down her shorts. Carol was kicking and thrashing her legs around, but she really didn't stand a chance.

"You'll go to jail! Your life will be ruined, damn it!"

"My wife of six years died in agony in my arms, I'm drowning in medical bills, the business I've poured my soul into for ten years is skating on the edge of bankruptcy, I haven't had sex in over three years, the woman I've loved since we were children treats me like I'm her maid, and I'm about to be branded a dangerous pervert. I don't see that I have much to lose."

Jake pulled her panties off.

"Like you say, we've been close since we were children, why do you want to destroy our friendship like this?"

"Carol! We don't have a friendship! Friendships are reciprocal. Our relationship is: I take care of you; you laugh at me. There's nothing to destroy."

Jake pulled her tube top down over her hips. She wasn't wearing a bra.

"It can change! Look, you've made your point! You don't have to do this!"

"I don't think it can change. I honestly think you'll keep doing what you're doing until it kills you. But not to worry. In a couple hours you can go back to the guys who just want a warm hole to fuck. You can be happy then. And I swear, you'll never be bothered by me again. ...Is that too tight?"

Jake had secured her ankles to the spread legs of the bench. He was cinching down the thigh straps, spreading her legs ridiculously wide in the process.

"Yea, it is. I don't like being spread like this with you watching. It makes me uncomfortable."

"That's the whole point. You're completely at my mercy. You're supposed to feel like that."

"What if I scream for help?"

"If you start screaming, you'll give yourself a sore throat. The reason Mary had me build this room in the middle of the basement and away from all the windows, was because she was very vocal when she came and it embarrassed her. Technically it's not sound proof, but you have to be inside the house to hear anything softer than a gun shot from this room. ...I'm putting on the blindfold now."

"Damn it! What's that for?"

"Shutting off sight heightens your sense of touch. It also increases your feelings of vulnerability and loss of control. It forces you to guess what nasty thing I'm going to do next. Comfy? I'm going to gather up my whips and chains now. Don't go away."

He gave her clit a little pinch to give her something to think about while he was gone and set off for the storage cabinets.

"Bastard!"

But much as she hated to admit it, that little pinch did send a jolt right through her.

"Lady, you ain't seen nothin' yet."

He set the pot of water and the pot of oil on the hot plates and inserted the thermometers. Then he started laying out his toys on the rolling table. Jake was new to bondage, and Mary had to teach him everything. But even before they were married he knew she didn't have long to live and, because it gave her pleasure, he was a diligent and inventive student. Over the years he'd built up quite an array of tactile stimulants and techniques for using them. From the feathers to the cat-o-nine-tails, from the mink mitten to the boar bristle brush, from the ice to the hot candle wax, he'd worked hard to learn exactly when and where to apply each.

After listening to Jake puttering around for what seemed like an hour, Carol heard a cart of some kind being rolled over to the bench and felt something hot and wet placed on her neatly trimmed bush.

"HAAA!"

"I'm going to shave you, Carol. If you lie very still, I can do it without cutting you. If you struggle, you may accidentally lose your clit. Can you hold still or will I have to strap you down the rest of the way?"

When she didn't answer, he snapped, "Talk to me, Cunt! What's it going to be?"

"I-I can hold still."

"Good choice," he said dryly.

Jake was gentle and very, very thorough. When he was done shaving her, he spent a few minutes just looking at her. He'd seen Carol naked plenty of times, usually at the end of a party laying in a pool of sweat and semen, sometimes vomit, but then he was looking at her clinically--as a friend who needed to be cleaned up and taken home. Now he was looking at her as a sexy woman.

She really was spectacular. Her shoulder length hair fanned out around her face like the rising sun. It was the color of maple leaves in autumn. Under the blindfold she had chocolate eyes, rare for a redhead but striking on her, with laugh lines starting at the corners. Her cheek bones were high and very delicate. Her nose was straight with a dusting of freckles. She had lips that were just large enough to draw attention and that seemed to be stuck on the edge of a smile: that tantalizing place that made Jake wish for something, anything, that might push them over into the real thing. Her face was too long and thin to be a Celtic face and too freckled and pixieish to be Nordic. It was somewhere in between and seemed to have captured the best features of both.

Her breasts were medium sized and conical, topped with nipples the same color as her eyes and freckled lightly on top.

She had legs that were lyric poems all by themselves. They were long and muscled and so smooth they had to be felt to be believed.

She had a domed mons that seemed to invite being fondled. A little bit to the left of center, her mons carried a birthmark in the shape of a willow leaf, with the rounded end at the top and the pointed end at the bottom, and slanted so it pointed right at her clit. It was as if Nature herself was directing your gaze to the part that most craved attention. The outer lips of her labia were long and seemed to always be slightly open so the inner lips and her prominent clit could be seen any time.

But there were signs of wear and tear as well. Her beautiful eyes were bloodshot more often than not. Her chin was beginning to double. Her upper arms and her butt were starting to thicken. Her stomach was getting soft. Jake wondered how long she could keep up her present life and still hold it all together.

He ran a gentle hand over her crotch feeling for missed spots. As he fondled her, he noticed her arousal flush spreading over her neck and chest, half way to her navel. Jake had always been able to tell when Carol was turned on, even from clear across the room; but, since they'd never had sex, and he wasn't about to hang around and watch her with someone else, he'd never seen it in all its glory. Her body gave her away completely to anyone who cared enough to pay attention.

Carol couldn't help noticing that being shaved did make her more sensitive. In spite of herself, she felt her hips moving in response to his touch.

That was the signal Jake was looking for. He gave her mons a slap to get her attention, and started his assault. Hot followed by cold. Scratchy followed by soft. Pain followed by kisses. Soft almost-touches traced the inside of her arm, across her arm pit, up over her breast, just brushed her nipple, grazed her stomach, ending on her mons just short of her clit. Over and over and over and over.

As he struggled to recall his old skills, he murmured very softly to himself, "Okay, Jake, concentrate. Watch her breasts. Watch her clit. Watch for changes in her skin color. Look for tensing in her abs. Look for movement in her hips. What winds her up. What pulls her down. She likes it rough, if it's followed by kisses. She likes it soft, but I have to get her attention first. Light fingertips grazing her skin wind her up. Tickling pulls her down. Good, the mink mitten works on her breasts. The bristle brush works on her thighs. The hot wax works on her stomach. The ice works on her face and neck. The feathers wind her up on her sides, and pull her down on her feet. The cat works on her mons if I lick it right after. Damn, she winds up easy! The trick is going to be pulling her back. Okay, let's go to work. Start patterns and break them. Do things at random. Let her build and pull her back. Let her build and pull her back. Let her build and pull her back. Tease her. Tease her. Tease her."

After twenty minutes, she started to beg. After twenty five minutes, Jake unfastened the thigh straps and she held her legs spread on her own. After thirty minutes, he unfastened the ankle cuffs and let her thrash and hump, looking for release. It wasn't good bondage technique because it lessened the intensity, but he needed her legs to be free and she was intense enough all on her own. After forty five minutes, she started to tire and he knew he had to finish it soon or loose her to cramps and exhaustion. Jake took off his clothes.

"So, Caroline, do you want to cum?"

Jake was using the name of his childhood playmate, not the spoiled rich bitch she had become.

"Oh, god! Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh, god! Please, don't tease me any more! Please, let me cum! Please!"

"I don't know. What's in it for me?"

"Anything you want! I'll fuck you any time you want for the rest of your life! I'll give you three blow jobs a day! Please! Let me cum, please!"

"A blow job might do it, but it would have to be a good one. Why don't you suck me off and I'll think about letting you cum."

"Yes! Let me suck you! I'll make it good for you! Please! Put it in my mouth! Please!"

"Oh, all right, if you insist. Open your mouth and get ready to deep throat."

"Yes! Put it in! Cum in my mouth! I'll make it good for you! Please!"

Of course, Jake had an erection hard enough to cut glass. He'd have to be made of stone not to be turned by what Carol had been doing for the last hour. Also, Carol had a reputation for giving very good head. If he wasn't careful, he knew he'd cum much too soon and he needed to tease her a while longer. So he tried staying in her mouth for just a few seconds then pulling back out.

"I don't know, Caroline, that felt pretty halfhearted. Maybe I should let you think about it a little longer. You can try again when you've decided you're ready for an orgasm."

"No! Please! I can do better! Please! Put it back in! I'll make it good for you! Please, let me try again! Please!"

Jake slid between her lips again.

'God!', he thought, 'She's not good, she's terrific!'

In a panic he pulled back out and made a real effort to control his voice.

"That was a little better, Caroline, but I still don't think you're ready. Maybe in another ten minutes."

"No! Please! One more chance! I'll do better! Please!"

"Because you beg so nicely, I'll let you have one more chance. But, if you don't get it right this time, I'll make you get dressed and go home."

"No! I can do better! I can do better! Please! Let me try again! Please!"

The inevitable happened. Five seconds after Carol's lips touched him, Jake was filling her mouth with the most powerful orgasm of his life. Holding on to the sides of the bench to keep from falling, he struggled to keep his legs under him and get his breath under control.

Concentrating hard on keeping his voice steady, he drawled, "That wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. Maybe you have earned an orgasm. But only a little one! And if you expect any thing at all, you're going to have to get your clit up here where I can reach it!"

Jake watched from between her legs as Carol got her feet under her butt and pushed her hips as high in the air as they would go, her thighs spread wide, her calves straining to raise her up higher on her toes, her body arched like a bow, straining every fiber to bring her clit the smallest fraction closer to him.