Toy's BDSM Adventure

This story is inspired by the same couple that supplied the artwork. For the purposes of this story we'll call them, Mr. and Mrs. VoyToy. This story is an attempt to write one of their fantasy BDSM adventures. I hope you enjoy it and I'm sure you will enjoy their artistic depiction of the story!! Please leave comments, as The VoyToys will undoubtedly read them.

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The knock on the door pulled my mind back from the arousal Timothy had placed me in. He'd taken his time seducing me over the last hour. He slowly brings me to a state of arousal. He's so deliberate that it's as if he plans every move in advance. Sometimes, I want to ask him to hurry up and make the next move!

Don't get me wrong. I love my husband. I fell in love with him within only a couple of days after meeting him. He's so kind and attentive with me. He's such a gentleman. But, our sex life is not where it should be. I don't know why. I wish I did.

Part of it is that once I'm aroused he starts with suggestive conversation that I don't really understand. Please understand that I'm a new bride. I'm not well versed in the art of sexual innuendo. I often think he gets frustrated with me when I don't pick up on what he's trying to tell me.

"Men," I say to myself and wish he'd just come out and tell me what he wants.

At the second knock I jumped from the sofa. "Are we expecting anyone?" I asked Timothy as the thought that I was not dressed properly to greet a guest ran through my mind.

"Perhaps," he answered and I thought how curious an answer it was.

"Timothy, I'm not presentable," I said.

I don't know how I'd agreed to it, but he'd convinced me to dress in a 'naughty schoolgirl' outfit. He'd brought the outfit home that afternoon, complete with white button-up blouse, tartan skirt, white panties, stockings and very high, white "Cum Fuck Me" heels. I was dressed like a slut and did not in any way want to answer the door.

"Toy, you'll be fine," he replied and lifted his drink to his lips, effectively shutting off my protest.

"Well, someone has to answer it," I replied in a huff.

I suppose he's right, I thought. We're all alone in our condo unit this weekend and the closest neighbors are far down the road. Still, I've never felt comfortable letting anyone see me dressed in an outfit that wasn't conservative, and he knows it.... "What am I saying?" I said to myself. Of course he's not right. I'm his new bride, not his hot slut-wife!

"There you go, Baby. Be a good girl," he said.

"How many times must I tell you?" I almost shouted back to him. Instead, I uttered a loud "Hmmph!" expressing my frustration and stepped to the door.

I twisted the knob slowly and pulled the door partially open. "What the...." I said softly. I pulled it open wide and looked over my shoulder at Timothy. Glad that no one was there and not wanting to expose myself any further, I stayed in the doorway and looked down the hall.

Suddenly, a man charged at me from down the hallway! Before I could even think to react he had me in his grasp. My mind was racing to figure out what was happening and before I knew it he had one of his big hands across my mouth and the other under my arm. As rage began building inside me, he pulled me into his chest.

I wanted to scream but couldn't. My eyes couldn't focus and it was like bursts of white light were shooting through them. My body was instinctively writhing against his grasp but I was no match for his strength.

I struggled as hard as I could but after only a few seconds I tired, and was powerless to stop him from pushing me inside and kicking the door closed. My mind was racing to figure out why an intruder had control of me and was making his way into my home! I looked directly at Timothy with a frantic look. My face was full of desperation. "Help me!" my eyes were screaming! "Timothy, Timothy, help!" I shouted through his hand. I knew my only hope against this brute was my husband.

It took me a few seconds to realize something was not right. Timothy had a camera in his hands, taking photos of my struggle. I was confused and unsure of what was happening. "Timothy? Timothy, what's going on?" I asked when my attacker moved his hand away from my mouth.

"Don't worry, Toy. He won't hurt you," he replied.

Still dazed and in a state of disbelief of the situation and still unsure of my thoughts, I repeated my plea, "Timothy, help me."

My husband's reply finally brought me into some clarity. "For a young bride, you've been disobedient too often, Toy. You need to learn a lesson in obedience," he replied.

As soon as the words left his mouth I realized I was in trouble. My anger shifted from the brute holding me to my husband. "Disobedient?.. disobedient?" I shouted and grunted loudly as I pulled my arms and kicked my legs.

In an attempt to figure this out my mind raced through our whirlwind romance the first three months of our marriage. We'd met at a singles mixer organized by my church. The first time we spoke I was enthralled by Timothy. He was the most handsome and intriguing gentleman there and I literally tingled as we exchanged our very first greeting.

He must have felt the same about me because since that day we have never been apart for more than a day. Within a few weeks we both knew we were soul mates and set a date to marry.

I twisted against my handler as my thoughts coalesced. "Disobedient?" I said to myself. What is he talking about? I've been a dutiful bride. I do more than my share of the housework. I'm always dressed well for any occasion. I even play his little flirtatious 'dress-up' games like the one he wanted tonight.

Sure, the sex has tailed off. But, isn't that to be expected? Newlyweds can't possibly keep up the sex as often as they did on their honeymoon. Can they? I mean, Timothy is good in bed. But, the orgasms are just not easy for me and there isn't much sense in trying so hard when I know it isn't going to work.

"Is that what this is about?" I asked myself. "Is this because I won't have sex with you every night?" I asked through my attacker's grasp. No reply.

I turned toward the brute holding me. "Take your hands off me!" I shouted.

"Not likely. In fact, you'd best get used to my hands. They'll be exploring you for the next few hours," he replied with a strong voice that was almost mesmerizing in its tone and authority. He grabbed my long black hair and twisted my head around as he spoke.

For the first time since my attacker had pounced on me I took a moment to study him. He was a tall, athletic man. He was very strong, with large hands, chest and shoulders. His grip was amazingly strong. He was older than me with light colored hair covered by a baseball cap. A red bandana covered his face from the bridge of his nose down. A pair of sunglasses kept me from seeing his eyes.

I could hardly believe what I was hearing him say. Surely, Timothy didn't want this. But, there he was; standing across the room taking pictures of my attacker manhandling me. I felt a disappointment in him deeper than I'd ever felt before. How could my husband be in on such a thing? I asked myself. Why would he want this?

I looked at Tim and he looked back with a smugness that further infuriated me. "Don't worry yourself, Toy. You'll enjoy it before we're done," he said.

"I most certainly will not!" I retorted and then looked again at my handler. Although I couldn't recognize him, I sensed that I'd seen him before. Was he the stranger I saw through the window of Timothy's office a week ago? Tim had insisted I lay out by the pool nude. My refusal angered him and he sulked about the house for an hour until I reluctantly agreed. I was almost certain this was the same man.

That little episode had been so humiliating. I shouldn't have agreed to such a thing. But Timothy had pouted until finally gave in. I felt like telling him that if he wanted it so much he should order me to do it. "Don't just sulk about the house like a little boy that didn't get his way," I wanted to say.

I should have said it. But, instead I went outside to the pool, took my bikini off, and sunned naked in the heat of the hot afternoon sun.

Well, no sooner had I done so than a good looking man appeared at the window to Tim's home office. There they stood, looking out at me. I can't tell you how embarrassed I was. I stayed on my belly for what seemed a half hour, determined not to let him see my breasts or pussy. I felt I'd been tricked by Timothy and as soon as the man left, I marched right into the house and told my husband in no uncertain terms that I'd never do that again.

"Yes, I'm sure it's him," I said to myself. I don't forget a handsome man's face.

"Take her into the bedroom," Timothy instructed. My attacker lifted me easily off my feet and carried me into our master suite, setting me onto our bed. Without waiting for instructions, he lifted my skirt, pushed his fingers under the top of my panties and with one quick jerk he pulled them off my hips and down my legs.

"Unhand me," I shouted and kicked my legs as my panties cleared my high heels.

"Shut your pretty mouth," he replied, tossed my panties in the direction of my husband and covered my mouth for the second time.

"Nuh-uh," I muffled a reply. "I won't."

"We'll see about that," Timothy said and tossed my attacker a white scarf tied with a knot in the middle. "This'll keep her quiet," he added.

Though I was trying as hard as I could, I was helpless to fight the man off. He quickly had the scarf around my head. He shoved the knot between my teeth until they were forced open. My mouth was filled with the knot of fabric. All I could do was moan my displeasure as he pulled a second scarf, a black one, from his pocket and blindfolded me.

"Timothy, Timothy!" I shouted but my shouts couldn't escape the gag he'd placed in me. I was frightened and worried and as soon as my eyes were blindfolded I felt a sudden panic overtaking me.

I tried to calm down but I couldn't speak and I couldn't see and before I could gather my thoughts I felt my blouse being ripped open and heard the buttons pop off and fly away from the fabric. My attacker, with my husband's consent, was now able to see my naked chest.

"She's got a fine set of tits, Timothy. Very fine indeed," he said.

As if manhandling me, pulling my panties from my hips and seeing my breasts wasn't humiliating enough he also noticed that my nipples were hard. I didn't want them to be hard. I really didn't, but the excitement of my situation was undeniable and my nipples always harden when I'm excited. To be honest, a small part of me was starting to enjoy being handled this way. It was titillating and my nipples were reacting to it.

"Just look at your wife's nipples, Timothy. I do believe Toy is enjoying this," he teased.

"As well she should, Bill. Even though she doesn't know it yet, Toy's a fine young slut wife. She just needs some attention in order to realize her true potential," Tim answered smugly.

I wasn't sure my husband had intended to use his name or not. But, I'm sure my attacker wasn't pleased with it because he gave Timothy a warning, "Watch your mouth, Timothy. She'll know my name soon enough. But, you're not to use it. Understand?"

"Sure, sure thing. No problem," Timothy answered in a tone that revealed surprise at my attacker's protest.

Bill's warning was as forceful as my husband's reply was timid, and it made me begin to wonder who was in charge of the situation; my husband or my attacker.

At least I know his name, I said to myself as Bill moved in-between my legs, pushed me back onto the bed and roughly felt up my breasts. A jolt ran through my body as soon as his skin touched mine and although I wouldn't admit it, I felt immediately aroused.

Now off balance, I leaned back onto my elbows. As I did so, my skirt lifted up my hips, revealing my pussy. My blouse fell off to my side, showing Bill both of my breasts while my husband clicked away at the camera shutter.

"Just relax and enjoy it, Toy," Timothy advised me. His voice had a hint of nervousness to it.

Part of me wanted to scream at the top of my lungs at my husband for being so reckless with my safety but the gag in my mouth wouldn't let me. Another side of me was enjoying the rough treatment I was getting and wanted it to continue. For a fleeting moment, the thought of how a proper young bride should act rushed through my mind. "Oh my goodness! I can't enjoy this. I just can't," I said to myself as my tits were pulled and pinched and my eyes were tearing up.

I fell all the way back, threw my head back and let out a disquieting moan that was partially a moan of pleasure and partially a moan of pain.

"That's it, baby. That's a good girl. Moan for me," Bill whispered. "Timothy, take a look at your wife. She's such a hot slut. Look at her. She's getting off to this already. You capturing this on camera?"

"I've got it. I've got it," Timothy replied, his voice sounding less certain that it had in the beginning.

"Let's tie her up now," Bill said. His suggestion sounded more like a command and it created a moment of panic in me as I thought of being helplessly under his control once he had me bound.

Timothy and Bill's roles seemed to be changing and Timothy didn't seem to like the idea. "I'm not sure, Bill. I think we've done enough."

I couldn't see what was happening through my blindfold but Bill released his grip on me with a stern warning not to move. A second later I heard a loud slap and then the sound of what must have been the camera bouncing off the floor.

"I told you not to use my name!" Bill said angrily.

"Fuck you!" Timothy shouted.

His shout was followed by another loud slap.

"What'd ya do that for? Shit, that hurts!" Tim retorted.

"Pick up the camera, you pussy. Hurry up!" Bill commanded.

I was afraid to move and worried about what might be happening to Timothy. I know I shouldn't worry about him, especially given that he deserves every blow he gets for having dreamed this thing up. But, I did worry. He's my husband and I love him. I thought about pulling down my blindfold to see, but I was too afraid to test Bill with anything he might consider to be a challenge to his authority so I left it alone.

"Get the bindings," he ordered.

Timothy must not have moved fast enough because I heard another loud slap, followed by Bill repeating his command. "Get….the…..bindings," he repeated deliberately and very slowly.

Bill turned me onto my stomach and straddled my back as I heard my husband hurriedly opening one of the drawers in the headboard. He sounded frantic as he pulled something from the drawer and shut it again.

Bill grabbed my right arm and looped a soft cord around my wrist. "Here," he said to Timothy. "Tie it to the post."

All the while I was kicking and writhing to get loose. "No…no," I insisted.

As I felt my right arm being stretched out, I felt another binding coiling around my left wrist. Bill tied it to the other post before twisting at his waist and grabbing one of my ankles.

"Tie it to the post," he told my husband after securing the bindings to my ankle. He hopped off my back and quickly fastened my other ankle to the far post.

I was now completely helpless. My legs and arms were spread out and securely tied to the bedposts. My mouth was gagged and my eyes blindfolded. "Timothy, Timothy. Help me," I muttered through the gag.

My attacker grabbed my blouse and jerked it from my shoulders. He pulled so hard and fast that it shredded like a piece of cheap cloth; leaving me naked except for my tartan skirt, stockings and high heels.

"Let's show her the difference between pain and pleasure," he said and pulled my skirt up my ass.

"That's enough, Bill!" my husband shouted. "I've changed my mind. It's over. You've done enough!"

Was my husband was demanding my release or pleading for it?

"I'll tell you when it's over," Bill replied and must have punched Timothy in the gut because I heard my husband let out a loud gasp of air and then moan with pain. "You hired me to teach your hot slut a few lessons in obedience and that's exactly what I intend to do. Sounds like you need a lesson or two as well."

Timothy could barely speak, but got out one last threat in an attempt to stop him. "I'll tell the police if you don't stop. I'll tell em…"

"No you won't," Bill interrupted him. "You won't tell the police anything. Especially, after you hear this."

I heard him forcefully push my husband into the chair beside the bed. "Sit down," he commanded.

A moment later, I heard the sound of two men talking on a recording. It must've been from one of those cheap digital ones you can carry in your pants pocket because the voice quality wasn't very good. But, it was good enough to clearly tell it was Bill and Timothy.

"You remember this conversation?" Bill asked him and turned up the volume.

I could hear something in Bill's hand making a clicking sound and a moment later I smelled a lit cigarette. He was sitting next to me on the side of the bed listening as the recording began. In it, Timothy was plotting with him to attack and subdue me, then tie me up and teach me a lesson in obeying him.

I heard them agree on a price and as they were discussing what was to be done to me, Timothy interrupted.

"You bastard! That's from the afternoon when we met in my office! You taped the whole thing. Fucking asshole!" Timothy shouted.

"An asshole?" Bill answered. "I'll tell you what an asshole is. An asshole is someone that thinks they can control me instead of the other way around. An asshole is a guy that's married to a fine looking woman like her and tricks her into laying out by the pool naked so I can see her."

"But, you promised to follow my lead," Timothy said. "You promised…" he repeated with his voice tailing off.

"I'll tell you what I promised. As soon as I saw your hot wife sunbathing, I promised myself I'd have a fine time with her. That's what I promised," Bill replied.

Hearing the conversation enraged me! I couldn't believe my husband had been so stupid. I twisted and writhed against my bindings as I shouted through the gag, "You fucking moron! You fucking dumb bastard! Timothy, I'm your wife!"

Bill spoke up, "If you turn me in you'll end up in jail with me. You understand?"

Tim didn't reply.

"Do you understand?" Bill repeated.

I was hurt. He's betrayed me, I thought. My mind raced back to our wedding day, only three short months ago. I remembered us standing in front of our friends and family saying our vows. I remember repeating, "To honor, trust and obey." Was this what he meant? My mind spun frantically and I muttered a warning of my own to my husband; "You'll be sorry for this, Timothy. You'll be sorry."

A long pause was broken by the sound of another slap. "I asked you a question. Do you understand?"

I struggled against the bindings as I listened to my husband whimpering. I was embarrassed for him. No man should be made to whimper in front of his wife.

"Do I have to slap you again?" Bill shouted.