Ann: The Married Years Ch. 19

There were two other concerns, actually. One was that he wasn't finished underneath the house yet. But he knew he'd be ready by Friday. The other was a bit trickier.

"How the hell do I get her to want to go into the crawlspace to begin with?" he wondered.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ann drove home slowly. She had to for fear that she'd drive right off the road. She was so turned on that she couldn't wait any longer. She'd held off doing anything at the store, mainly because she didn't want to turn the bondage seminars into live sex shows. She'd done four of them throughout the day and they were all of the explicit show-and-tell variety. She got so worked up her leather thong was a frothy mess. She actually took it off after the second class to let it dry. It was almost impossible to control herself, but she didn't want to go full out and make herself cum in front of any of the groups of women she'd just met. Not that it didn't cross her mind during the last one.

"Neil would have made me," she mused, thinking of what would have happened if she had really been playing the role as his submissive instead of just teaching a class.

Her right foot was on the gas, her eyes firmly on the road; the left was up on the dashboard, obstructing her view of the side mirror. Her left hand was on the wheel, gripping it tightly. Her right was busy using the remote of her egg vibrator, which she stuffed in her pussy soon after she got in the car. She'd pulled it out of her purse right after she pulled down the zipper of the thong she'd put back on before heading home; the open zipper making it basically crotchless. She was bringing herself closer to an orgasm with every mile she drove toward home.

She wanted to pull out her dildo but she also didn't want to stop, desperate to get home and really take care of herself. Truthfully, she wanted Neil. It had been such an incredible, day-long tease. In essence it had been an extended session of what could best be described as self-bondage, but done live in front of other people.

She could still feel the sting in her nipples from wearing three different sets of clamps off and on during the day, showing the advantages of each style, while explaining how they differed and how they felt. She was proud that she was actually able to convince someone in each seminar to try them. She was amazed at how engaged the women became as each class progressed. She attributed some of that to her openness, willing to actually show them how things worked. That had some of the students becoming brave. She'd been able to get women to use several items. But the fact remained that most of the products she showed were ones she used on herself.

She had marks on her thighs and several on her ass from using crops and whips on herself. They weren't bad because they were self-inflicted, but that didn't mean they weren't reminding her of what it felt like. She had rope marks on her ankles, where she'd showed them how to tie and bind. It was at that point she realized she probably should have an actual class on how to be a Domme as well, as that was a subject more suited for the one leading.

Still, her goal was to get the women to be comfortable with being tied up, showing it wasn't as taboo as one would think. In the process she hoped to convey the exhilaration that came from giving up control to someone they loved and trusted, and how it could actually lead to incredible orgasms. So could learning to properly channel pain. Using pain as an aphrodisiac was a bit of a challenge to explain, but the look of bliss on her face when she'd have a random woman in each class tighten the adjustable nipple clamps showed them just how powerful the experience could be.

She even let them spank her a little, and whip her, and well... that's why her ass was tender. Again, most of the things marking her sexy body she'd done to herself. But handing a novice a crop and telling them not to hold back... that took a lot of nerve, but it paid dividends in both selling her point and selling naughty bedroom toys. She just had to sell her ass in the process.

"I wonder what Henrietta would think," she thought during the last session. "Or Mary Ann."

Yet everything she did made her think of Neil, and how things would have been different if he'd taught the class, using her as his obedient bondage model. She became lost in thought of how it would have felt to be on display. Surely she would have eventually been totally naked. Certainly she would have exposed her pussy to them. Unquestionably she would have been bound in some lewd fashion and then punished for showing off her body like a common slut. And most definitely she would have been made to do things that she'd never expect, or even think of. And in the process, she'd have been made to cum... numerous times.

Those were the thoughts that were running wild in her head, and she couldn't turn them off. She couldn't even slow them down. All kinds of naughty, degrading things were popping into her brain, each one more depraved than the last; all of them making her yearn for Neil to do them to her. She felt like she'd literally snapped. All those months... hell, a couple of years of suppressing the darkest of all her alter egos was suddenly pouring out of her. She felt her chest tightening, her breathing becoming rapid and shallow. Her hand froze on the remote, unable to take it off the highest setting, her orgasm fast approaching. And yet she knew she needed to stop, afraid she might lose control of her car.

Two minutes later she whipped the Honda around the corner, screeching to a halt in her driveway as she hit the garage door button. Having gone so far as to remove the tiny vibrator to resist any more temptation, she was desperate. She ran into the garage, going straight to where she knew she'd find relief... the perfect relief. It was exactly the kind of dirty, raunchy thing a girl needed when she was feeling like she was. She had an overwhelming desire to be naughty; to do something so outrageous that she'd certainly draw the imaginary wrath of her husband, and he'd be forced to respond physically. It was the perfect impromptu plan.

But it wasn't there.

"FUCK!" she screamed out, looking frantically around the work bench after she couldn't find it in the tool box where he usually kept it. But to no avail. "Where the fuck is Stanley!"

Figuring the hammer was in the bathroom where he'd been working, she closed the garage door and sprinted down the hallway. But the door was locked. She knew it would be. He'd been keeping his progress a secret, wanting to surprise her when it was totally finished. She couldn't unlock it, but she knew better than to do it if she could. How she was feeling wasn't worth ruining that moment for him.

"Fuck!" she yelled again, now pissed off that she couldn't reach her forbidden lover.

She knew better than to use Antonio... it wasn't what she needed at all. Instead she fumbled through her jewelry box in search of the key to the toy chest, unable to find it. Only when she turned around did she remember it was unlocked, having opened it to take out the blonde wig she was still wearing.

Throwing open the lid of the big ornate trunk she removed the tray in the top, dropping it on the floor. She searched anxiously, having to dig past many other things she'd used more recently. It had been so long since she'd been to the bottom of the chest, to where the items that fit her mood had sifted over time.

She grabbed a sealed package containing the cat-o-nine tails whip she'd bought, one that she'd obviously never used before. She'd never opened it because it looked just too menacing. She wasn't even sure why she bought it. The leather strands hanging from the grip had barbs on the end of them. Actually, there were knots, each of the dozens of leather strips tied off at the very ends. She could only imagine what they'd do if they were used on her ass, or anywhere else for that matter. Ripping open the plastic, she grabbed the thick leather handle, the feel of it reminding her of her precious Stanley.

That was all she needed and yet she loitered at the chest, seeing other things in the bottom that caught her eye. She checked the clock, unsure of why. She knew she had hours before Neil would come home. And yet she felt she needed to hide what she was doing for some reason. Likely because she'd originally gone looking for a tool she'd been told she was to stay away from. It had all been just a running joke, at least up until she came home feeling horny and desperate. At that moment, she wanted to use the hammer if only because she wasn't supposed to, and that made her feel naughtier. The idea of getting caught added to the sexual thrill.

Thinking of all the things she'd done to herself at the shop and then on the way home, she couldn't control herself. She wanted to feel it again. The idea of doing painful things to her own body was odd and different but she didn't care. It may not be entirely the same, but it would be close to what she suddenly craved.

Picking a set of heavy nipple clamps and her big black butt plug, she grabbed several lengths of their clothesline rope and her trusty ball gag. She even selected her riding crop and her big plug-in wand vibrator, throwing all of the items onto the bed. She started to climb up, but she stopped herself. Scooping them back up, she headed to the guest bedroom, knowing that was where she was supposed to be if she were going to act the way her brain was telling her to. Staring at the bed and all the things she might do in the room she stripped, wanting to be totally naked.

She started by plugging in the vibrator and setting it on the bed. Then she stood on the mattress, placing a strand of rope carefully over one of the hooks that were part of the actual design of the ceiling fan above her, letting the ends dangle toward the bed to make sure they were long enough.

She began tying her breasts, simply roping them off to cut off the blood flow. She didn't go too tight, but she loved how they felt and looked. The veins in her tits started pumping and the flesh turned a delightful shade of purple rather quickly. Neil had done that to her once and she'd never told him how much she loved it. But she knew that he could tell, just by the way she reacted. She followed that up by putting in her ball gag, wanting to feel the restricted air flow, and the way she'd drool all over herself once she really got into it.

Going to the foot of the bed, she tied separate ropes to the hooks he'd installed there on the legs before climbing back up into place. Next, she inserted the plug in her ass, having to struggle from the massive width. It was harder for her to do it to herself, which somehow made it feel like someone else was doing it to her. One of the cute women at her last seminar came to mind, her stunning face lighting up when Ann chose her to twist the nipple clamps and later to use some of the discipline items on her ass.

Her name was Faith and she became Ann's focus. In her mind it was that petite redhead that was using the ropes secured to the bed; tying them to her ankles meticulously, wanting to leave perfect marks behind as she spread her legs wider. Once both ankles were secure, she pushed herself backward, stretching her body so that the slack in the ropes would tighten. With that complete she attached the clamps to her engorged nipples, wincing as the teeth bit into her tender nubs. They hurt all the more because of how she'd bound her breasts. She let the clamps dangle for a moment, making sure she had her vibrator within reach, as well as the crop and the whip; the weight of the clamps pulled her nipples lewdly in whichever direction she leaned.

Satisfied that she had everything at her fingertips she sat up just a bit, taking one of the ends of the rope hanging down from the hook on ceiling fan. Looping the end through an opening in the clamp on her left nipple, she tied it off. Then she lay down, slipping the loose end of the rope through the other clamp. Pulling, she tightened the tension, actually jerking her left breast upward, making her cringe in pain. She tried to tie the other one off and actually did, but she didn't quite get it as tight as she'd hoped. Still her nipples were being yanked upward toward the ceiling, and she was pleased with how it worked.

That was the first time she really thought of Neil again. Up to that point it had been a self-bondage fantasy, quickly replaced in her head by the cute redhead doing things to her. And she hadn't necessarily replaced Faith with Neil in those thoughts. But she longed for him to actually be there with her, knowing he would have made them so tight she would have been screaming, and her pussy would have been all the wetter because of it.

Still she was wet and extremely excited. Wanting to get started, she first took the crop with the leather flap on the end, hoping to make her body feel like she was actually submitting. It was difficult, but she was able to hit her upper thighs, especially on the inside near her cunt. Then she struck the underside of her breasts, trying to land the blows near the clamps. She was more successful at that, the burning sensation sending waves of pleasure to her clit. Finally, she aimed a few swats directly on that swollen appendage between her legs, almost making her scream through the ball gag.

But as intoxicating as it all was, she could never quite hit herself hard enough. It was just too difficult to give herself the pain she longed for, because she knew it was going to hurt. Every time, she'd ease up. It was human nature, but it made her realize just how special she had it with Neil, because he knew exactly what she could handle and he wasn't afraid to push her just beyond those thresholds, bringing her more pleasure in that delicious process.

Resigned that the experience was as genuine as it could be by herself, she lifted the cat-o-nine tails, turning the handle in her hand, pressing the bulbous end against her open pussy lips. She sucked in her breath as she thrust it inside her cunt, going deep and fast. She started fucking herself wildly, ramming the imaginary hammer into her quivering slit. Her left hand fumbled around the bed for the wand, finding it and flicking it on.

It was all over in a matter of seconds. As soon as the powerful vibrations hit her clit, she exploded.

"AAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!" she screamed into the gag, her nostrils flaring as she attempted to continue fucking herself. But it was too difficult. The angle of her arms didn't work as well as she'd hoped. If she moved to get better leverage, it took the pressure off her nipples and the ropes binding her legs would become slack.

Still, she came... twice actually. Both of them were wonderful releases from the sexual tension that had been building up inside of her all day. But it was still not the intense result that she longed for.

An hour later she was sitting naked on the loveseat, a glass of wine in her hand as she looked at the marks on her lower body. She smiled at how perfect the rope indentions adorned her ankles. Her left hand went to one of her tender nipples, her body shuddering as she pulled at it, making her pussy drip a little more.

She knew that she'd been playing with fire all day long. Now she had a raging inferno building inside of her. One that she was suddenly worried about, thinking it might never be able to be extinguished. She was thinking about Neil, and the fact that it had been over two years since she'd been who she felt like at the moment. It was a long time. Too long. That thought actually had her scared, what with the way she was feeling inside.

Suddenly, her head began to hurt; a hot flash of panic coursing through her body.

"What if he doesn't want me to be Annabelle anymore? What if he likes things the way they've been?"

They were reasonable questions in her mind. He'd thrown out some veiled hints, some of them recently, yet he hadn't bothered to mention her by name for so long. At least she didn't think he had. Becoming lost in her despair, she'd totally forgotten he'd basically told her to go teach women the joy of being Annabelle that very morning.

To her it felt like Annabelle didn't exist in his eyes any longer. He never complained that they weren't doing that anymore. Maybe she'd read into some of his words and actions that weren't really there, because deep down she wanted to be Annabelle again. Maybe she was setting herself up to be disappointed if she brought up the subject. At that point, she didn't even know where to start.

"How do I get him to want me that way again?" she sighed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

His trap was set, if you could call it a trap. It was a device, really... a way to entice Ann to go into the crawlspace. It was frankly the only way, considering there were no holidays coming up that required decorating the house or a change of season that would necessitate rotating part of their wardrobe. But he knew as soon as it came to him that it would work.

The one thing Neil could count on was that his loving wife was a creature of habit. She was organized, and she liked things a certain way. Most importantly, she didn't like unexpected change or events that would upset her routine.

One of the things she often hounded him about was the water. They'd paid a lot of money for the water softener, because he insisted that if they didn't have one it would ruin their pipes and appliances. The water heater, dishwasher, the washing machine, even the ice maker in the fridge; all of those things would be permanently damaged if they didn't get one. She didn't buy into that so much at first, but when she saw how it stopped the water from leaving behind limestone stains in the bathrooms and kitchen, she was suddenly totally on board. Even more so when she saw how much better her clothes looked once they had it installed.

He knew how she'd get whenever there was the first sign that the water was starting to harden, insisting that he go down that instant and fill the softener with salt before it started to do damage to an appliance, or god forbid ruin any of her clothes. He chuckled at how she'd say it. "It's never my clothes she worries about," he thought many times.

That was the key to how he'd get her where he wanted her to go. The concentration level of limestone where they lived was so high, it became noticeable almost instantly whenever the water tank of the softener was in need of more salt pellets. And now there was an easier way to make sure she'd notice when she got home. When he made his final preparations in the crawlspace before he went to get cleaned up for work, he simply turned the unit off.

Taking a shower, he used up all of the 'good' water, running the faucet in the tub a while afterward just to make sure. He even flushed the new toilet several times. Then he got dressed, humming happily to himself that everything was almost set.

When he finished packing his lunch, he got out the photos he'd had hidden away. Putting the box on the island, he pulled out a pile of them, making sure the ones on top were of Felicia being tied up to the barstool.

"Well, that's it. If this doesn't get her in the mood, it's going to be a disaster when she goes to fill the water softener," he sighed.

He felt really good about his plan though, at least up until he looked at the clock on the wall while he was at work, noting that she would be home any minute. The pit that quickly formed in his stomach nearly made him nauseous, worried that he'd gone too far.

"At least the bathroom is finished," he reasoned, hoping to make the cold, empty sensation subside.

But it didn't. He attempted to put his energies back to work, knowing one of two things were about to happen. The worst of them would be she was about to become very angry at the mere suggestion that she'd ever want to do that again, and that he wasted a bunch of money doing it. There was also the chance she would embrace what he was suggesting, but as the clock ticked, that seemed less likely to him by the second.