Straight Laced Ch. 02

Finally, Rachel climaxed, using her legs wrapping him to pull him deeply while she cried out, and wrapped her arms around Tom's neck. She looked at him as she came, eyes liquid with pleasure. Her eyes were open and fixed on him the whole time, almost looking afraid that she wouldn't be able to withstand the onslaught of her orgasm. She shook with pleasure, the waves of the orgasm pulsing through her tightly bound pussy and dancing within her widely opened eyes.

He loved it when she bared her soul to him like this, with her eyes-open orgasm. Watching her come always pushed him closer. It was his goal, the single-minded focus of his male obsession: to make her come. Once she did, all controls in place for his own orgasm were instantly lifted. Especially when she let him look into her eyes when she came, letting him see her afraid and vulnerable, her mind lost in the depths of climax, sharing her overflowing love for him.

Rachel's dilated pupils beckoned him to join her, and Tom couldn't hold back any more. Rachel's orgasm lasted a long time, and it was just starting to peter out as Tom came. He extended the same openness to her, keeping his eyes open and focused on her instead of hiding his inner being at the moment it was most raw.

She saw his eyes too were almost afraid with pleasure as he came, and felt him jerking inside her, filling her with his love. She pulled his head down for an open mouth kiss, cutting off his gasps for air with her wide wet mouth. She drove her tongue into his mouth, still feeling him pumping her full of his semen and trying to keep her eyes open. She couldn't focus on him from this close, but she saw the blurry image of him filling her vision just like he was filling her pussy.

They lay in their embrace for a long while afterwards, tightly wrapped around each other. Rachel's waist was bound in her corset, her pussy in its laces, and her entire body in Tom's arms. Corseting wouldn't become an every-day occurrence, but it was now part of their sex repertoire, to be broken out for special occasions when she really needed it.

Tom announced to Rachel that he had booked a new show in Chicago in a week. Rachel wouldn't be able to go with him for the several days he'd be gone, but it was a prominent gallery, and he couldn't miss the opportunity. Rachel would miss him terribly, since they were rarely apart. Their renewed sex life had strengthened the bond between them—people often mistook them as newlyweds, even though they'd been together twelve years now. They always held hands, or walked with their arms around each other. He opened doors for her and pulled out her chair when she sat; respectful as a first date, yet clearly quite intimate. Their closeness was palpable to others, even when they weren't giving each other little PDA's.

Rachel knew it was all because of her gift. She never had known that it would lead to this. Her nipple's rings and her pussy's eyelets had reawakened her lusty self, her sexually adventurous self. She and Tom had sex almost every night, sometimes twice a day. She couldn't get enough. The permanent installations were always rubbing at her, her laces tautly vibrating her pussy when she went about her daily business, her nipple rings tugged on by her bra. By the time evening had come, she couldn't take it any more, and she would throw herself on Tom, begging to be fucked.

Tom's level of gratitude to Rachel for letting him decorate her gave him a new respect for her. He admired her, and found her so much more alluring and beautiful. Not more beautiful because of her metal jewelry, but because together they had let the lusty Rachel out of her cage. She was now freer than ever ironicallybecauseshe stitched her pussy up tightly each morning. She loved her laces, and now couldn't think of her body without them.

Rachel didn't want to be without Tom, but knew he had to go. In response, she hatched the idea of having her pussy's bondage to be permanent while Tom was away. It would deliciously torture her, and she became preoccupied with the idea, turning it over in her mind for the next full week. She decided it was so sinful she couldn't resist, and even though it was a little extreme, she wanted to take the leap. She hinted as much to him the on next Sunday morning; he was due to fly out to Chicago at 9:00 that night.

"Hey Tom?"

"Yes babe?"

"While you're away at your Chicago show, how do you know I'm not going to stray?" She had a flirty look in her eye, and a feminine tilt to her head.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You know, play around?" Rachel continued.

"You mean cheat?" Tom asked doubtfully.

"Hadn't you better be certain?" she added coyly, trying to bring him around to her idea without telling him what to do.

He was very matter of fact with a dismissive reply. "Very funny hon. Of course I don't think that'll be necessary!" She was disappointed that he didn't get her hint at all. He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "I've got to run some pre-flight errands for the show—I'll be back in an hour or two."

"Okay," she replied sorrowfully.

If he wasn't going to pick up on the hint, she'd have to take matters into her own hands. She went upstairs, and found the thinnest lace she owned—a white formal shoe lace. After the daily practice with her various lacings, she was now blindingly fast, and she stitched herself up starting at the top this time, letting the loose laces dangle below at the bottom of her pussy. She went back over the lacing, making sure each crossing was securely taking up all the slack. She was now tightly laced, her outer labia pressed together, completely covering her clit and inner labia. She took some scissors and cut the ends of the laces, leaving a small portion dangling, enough to make a small loop at each end. Then just as quickly, she removed the little white lace, setting it free from her pussy and placing it on the bed. She picked through her shoebox, and selected a pretty red lace with gold threads to lace herself up for real, before getting dressed to head out.

She went to the hardware store—a local store known for its variety and helpful staff. She found the department that had ropes and cables on big spools where you could cut off exactly how much you needed. A man walked up to her.

"Can I help you Miss?"

"Yes." She pulled the cut white lace from her purse and handed it to the man. "I need a piece of the thinnest steel cable you've got, cut exactly this long. And I need two loops put on the ends." She smiled to herself, knowing that her scent was probably still on the lace.

He took the lace from her hand and looked it over. "This is pretty short—what are you using it for?"

"I've got a small jewelry box I want to keep my kids out of."

"Okay, sure." He looked among the selections, finally settling on a fine steel mesh cable with a thin plastic coating. "How about this? It's pretty flexible—is that okay?"

"Yes, the more flexible the better." She took the end from the reel that he indicated and bent it, trying to determine the minimal curve. It wasn't anywhere near as flexible as the cloth laces she was used to, but she was pretty sure it could bend enough to be threaded.

Rachel asked the man, "How do you put a loop on the end?"

"There are these small steel clamps here," as he picked one up. "You bend the cable around to itself, then crush one of these clamps into the cable. There are little points inside the clamp that penetrate into the cable, making it almost impossible to pull off. I can do that for you."

"Perfect!"

"Okay, just give me a minute then," the man said, measuring off the thin cable from the reel against her shoelace, cutting it with a pair of tin snips. He used a pair of pliers to bend a small loop in each end, clamping the loop solidly shut with the pliers. With a machine on his belt, he printed a small white tag for the cost of the cable and clamps, and wrapped it around the cable, handing it to her.

"Here you are."

She tugged at the loops fabricated in the ends of the cable. They were very strong—no chance of pulling them out. "Thank you—this will do nicely! Next, I need the smallest hollow tubing you have, maybe three inches?"

He looked at the wheels of tubing next to the cables, ropes, and chains. The smallest one was a clear flexible plastic about an eighth-inch diameter. He pulled out a small section, about six inches, and cut it off.

"Here you go," he said. "I'm not going to charge you for a piece this small—we normally only charge for foot long pieces or more."

"Thanks! I'm almost done. Can you tell me where padlocks are?"

"Sure—one aisle over," the man said, pointing.

She walked over to the aisle indicated, and found the locks. She found the smallest possible lock, about a half-inch wide with a small key. The key for the small lock was clearly non-unique—just a little stamped bit of metal with a plus at the end. The locks with individually cut keys were practically an inch wide. She toyed with the idea of having an inch-wide metal lock dangling between her legs, weighing both locks in opposite hands, trying to decide. With the smaller lock she knew if she got desperate she could always come back to the hardware store and buy another to use its identical key to free herself. Her desire for a true imprisonment over a symbolic one won out, and she put the smaller lock back on the shelf, dropping the larger lock in her shopping basket.

She strode up to the counter with her selections, paying right away and rushing out the door. Rachel was quite aroused from her shopping trip. She drove home quickly to beat Tom home from his errands, making sure she had enough time to beat herself off first. She got home and rushed to the bedroom, throwing her purse and purchases aside.

She was quite used to wearing her laces during the day. No matter how tightly she pulled the laces, she knew she could take them off at night, or could loosen them several times during the day to pee. She always slept nude without any stitching, the eyelets in her labia free from constraint, spreading herself wide to let her pussy breathe. This would be different. She would not get any relief from the compression until Tom got home. She wanted to make the most of the last little bit of freedom her pussy would enjoy.

Rachel pulled up her skirt with nothing underneath but her beautiful red and gold laced pussy, and she could feel she was already starting to lubricate. She undid the bow, and then unceremoniously removed the lacing as quickly as she could. Once the ribbon had been tossed aside, Rachel started pulling her lips apart, stretching them from her body as far as her skin's elasticity would allow. With one hand on each lip, she grasped the lips' edges with their embedded metal, pulling as much of the flesh into her palm as she could, then spreading herself obscenely. She then did the same with her inner lips. Not having the hand-holds of the eyelets, she pinched her delicate inner labia tight between her fingertips, and spread herself. She pulled her inner lips away from her body, exercising as much of her pussy's temporary freedom as she could, stretching and spreading her soon-to-be compressed cunt.

She used her thumb and middle finger to spread herself wide, separating her labia as far as she could until her engorged clit was just a little bump on the wide open pink plain. She plunged the middle finger of her other hand into her wet hole, at the same time rubbing her little stretched clit with her forefinger. Her middle finger was slick with juice, and she fucked herself furiously, back arched to get her hand deep enough, all the while sliding her other finger side-to-side over her engorged clit.

Her need had been dire, and she quickly came, grunting under her breath, clutching her finger deep in her spasming cunt, crushing her mound with the palm of her other hand. She relaxed, letting the pleasure sweep over her. As she was drifting off, she heard the front door open. She quickly pulled her finger out of herself, stood and smoothed her skirt, dove for the red lace on the floor, quickly stuffing it in the shoebox under the bed. She picked up her little brown bag and headed out to meet her man.

"Hi babe," Tom said.

"Hi sweetie, did you get everything done?" Rachel asked innocently.

"Almost—part of the hardware will have to get shipped directly to Chicago while I'm there doing the installation, but everything else was ready."

"That's too bad," Rachel said with empathy. She walked close up to him, and gave him a big wet kiss, still holding the bag. He received the kiss with eager abandon, and she pulled herself away. She held her sticky finger under his nose, leaving it there long enough until the look in his eyes was unmistakable recognition.

"Jesus Christ! Do you need me on my knees eating your pussy?" Tom exclaimed.

"Remember when we talked this morning about my straying?"

"Did you cheat on me while I was gone?" he asked, incredulously.

"No, not exactly." She handed him the small brown paper bag.

He accepted it with a questioning look, and undid the fold at the top, peering in. He reached in, taking the contents.

"A small cable, a lock, and a piece of piping?"

"Oh, the tubing is mine," Rachel said quickly, snatching the clear tube from his hand. "But the others are yours. That's to make sure I'm a good girl while you're gone."

After a confused pause, Tom broke out in a big smile. "Oh, God honey. I'm sorry for being so thick. I really didn't get the hint." He added with mock sternness, "Of course, I'm going to have to lock your pussy up while I'm gone to make sure you're not a terrible slut!" He stuffed the items back into the paper bag.

Rachel grinned. "Whatever you say, sir," she flirted, a giggle in her eyes.

He led her back to the bedroom by the hand, dumping the bag by the bedroom door. He grasped her, turned her around and threw her backwards onto the bed. He lifted her skirt, and lowered his head down to her pussy, rubbing his nose in it.

"You're quite wet!" he said with surprise.

"You came home right after I finished beating it," she admitted with a guilty smile.

Tom took a long wide-tongued lap at her pussy, freshening the scent that she had tantalizingly rubbed under his nose. Her legs squirmed with delight, her pussy still plump from her earlier masturbating. He tucked in, kissing and licking her cunt up and down its length. He took her golden eyelets into his mouth, tugging on them. He teased her mercilessly like this for a bit, moving his mouth from place to place over her tender little pussy. Once he had had his fill of fluttering about, he concentrated on her clit, drawing her clit and inner lips fully into his mouth, sucking them strongly, then releasing the pressure a little, over and over again.

He moved his hand up to her crotch and put the tips of two fingers inside her. She involuntarily bucked her hips forward to meet his hand, forcing his fingers in even further. He continued to suck her clit, measured and slow, but deeply into his mouth while stroking her G-spot with his fingers. He could feel her tensing up. Not wanting to tease her any further, he pumped his fingers slightly faster and sucked slightly harder, pulling her over the edge.

She grabbed his hair, shoving his head into her mound as she came. He was smothered by her fragrant cunt and he loved it, rubbing his face side to side while keeping her clit drawn deeply into his mouth. He could feel her metal against his cheek. She clamped her thighs around his ears, still pushing his head down into her wet flesh. Finally she let go of his hair and her hands fell to her sides, gasping.

Tom wasted no time and stood up, pulling her rear close to the edge of the bed so he could stand while he penetrated her. She opened her legs wide to accept him, and as he slid into Rachel she arched her back and moaned.

"Now I've got to fuck you, you bad little girl."

He started slow, giving his hips a slight rotation at the end of each stroke to rock his cock inside her canal. He couldn't keep that up for long, and was soon urgently fucking her, slamming his cock against her body, his balls thwapping against her rear. Rachel had already come twice in the span of fifteen minutes, but with Tom hammering her pussy she thought she might be able to come again. He was relentless—knowing that she needed it fast and rough—and her nastiness had him soon at the edge. She did need it hard; the pounding that she was getting was unusual for their love making, but her wanton body devoured his thrusts, pushing her ass back against him to meet him.

They could sense each other's imminent orgasm, and that brought them both over the edge, coming together. Tom forcefully pulled Rachel's hips to him to empty himself, and Rachel responded by pulling back, her legs tight around his ass. After her third orgasm, she was exhausted, and she dropped her head on the bed, her hair sprawling. Tom stopped pumping into her, and he stayed inside, collapsing on top of her.

After a couple blissful minutes, silent except for their heavy breathing, Tom withdrew. Tom bent down in front of her messy pussy, dabbing at it with a tissue he grabbed from the tissue box on her dresser. Rachel lay back with her eyes closed, still relaxed and drowsy. He walked over to the doorway and picked up the small brown paper bag. Kneeling again before his altar, he touched the cable to the bottom of her pussy.

"Start at the top please. I want the lock between my legs," Rachel explained.

"Makes sense to me," Tom agreed.

He moved to the top, threading the cable through the top two eyelets. He pulled it taut and even, and moved to the next lower holes. The cable was no shoelace—it didn't conform automatically to a change in direction like the cloth did. Tom had to really tug it through the holes and kink the cable slightly to get it at the proper angle. But slowly he was able to stitch her together with the steel mesh ribbon.

Rachel lay back with a relaxed smile, feeling her freedom evaporate. The ends of the cable with the loops were wide, and he had to pinch the loops forcefully with his fingers to make it small enough to force it through her holes. The metal clip securing the loop ends was rough and sharp, so Tom worked carefully not to brush that against her still engorged delicate pink skin. Rachel could sense how much harder going it was with the cable, feeling much more pulling and yanking than when he normally laced her, feeling the cable resist the tight turns and curves of the lacing, feeling the cable springing back and forcing her eyelets into wider, turned angles.

Tom reached the bottom. With the cable unable to tightly conform to the curves, he almost didn't have enough length. The cable loops were long enough to touch the bottom holes, but not to push through. He left the bedroom, and after a minute or two came back with a pair of needle nose pliers. He squished her pussy together tightly, tugging out any last little remaining slack that he could with the pliers.

The process was excruciatingly erotic for Rachel, and she softly bit her lip with anticipation. Finally Tom was able to get the loop ends to just protrude through the bottom holes, far enough to fit the shaft of the lock. He picked up the lock, holding the tension enough to slip the end through one of the loops, holding it in place. Then he pulled the last little bit of slack from the other side, moving the lock across, and snapping it shut.

Tom stood to admire his handiwork and smiled: Rachel's pussy was completely off limits. Rachel stood and walked over to the mirror to examine it herself, hitching up her skirt to give herself a good look. The stiff cable's trajectory didn't keep her eyelets in a perfect flat line, and the slight puckering had left her labia slightly open in places. Nevertheless, it was a thing to behold—the steel wire suturing her pussy shut, and a small brass lock tight against the opening between her legs. She ran her fingertips across herself, feeling the plastic sheathing of the cable and the cold metal lock hitched up tight against her cunt. Rachel was skinny enough to have space between her thighs so that when she walked, the wide lock barely grazed each thigh.