Game Night

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Timothy gets more than he bargained for at Game Night.
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Game Night

Prologue

"Hey Babe, Jane's invited us over for game night tonight. I was actually looking forward to just you and me playing with ourselves but Jane has been wanting to meet you for months, and I can't very well tell her 'no thanks, I'd rather stay home and fuck.'"

"No? Well, I'll tell her!" I grinned at my wife.

Beth playfully slapped my chest, and said in mock reproach, "Oh Timothy Baker, you behave. This will be fun, I promise. And besides, you'll absolutely be getting lucky when we get back home tonight, so make sure you shave, Tinkerbell!"

"Yes, ma'am!" I replied, in our well practiced routine.

'Tinkerbell' is sort of her pet-name for me. But it's also a little more... Beth and I have been married for just under ten years, and for pretty much all of that time we have lived a female-led relationship with some light femdom. No chains or whips or anything like that, but I'm quite submissive to her in all ways. And when she calls me 'Tinkerbell', or 'TB' I know she wants to play. The only acceptable response is 'Yes, ma'am,' or some variation. Of course I don't have to agree with her -- it's entirely up to me, but I love seeing her happy and this makes her very happy.

We met not long after I turned eighteen. Beth was my 29 year-old goddess, and I couldn't believe my luck that a hottie such as her was into a skinny guy like me. We married when I was twenty and she was thirty-one and have lived happily together to today, where I'm 29 to her 41. She looks the exact same as the day I met her. I, on the other-hand, have grown into quite a hunk, if I do say so myself. Beth's athleticism has rubbed off on me.

Maybe it was partly to do with my desire to please her, but her love of athletic activities -- hiking, skiing, mountain climbing -- caused me to broaden my horizons and step out of my own comfort zone on more than one occasion. Nobody was more surprising than myself that I'd taken to those activities just as easily as Beth had.

And our sex life! We'll play our Tinkerbell games 3 or 4 times a week, and we'll end most of those with a vigorous fucking. It usually starts out with Beth saying something like "TB, do you feel a draft in here?" To which I will quickly peel off all my clothes and reply "Yes, ma'am, I believe I do." Then we'll retire to the living room where she'll snuggle up under a blanket next to me, leaving me completely exposed to the air while she lazily strokes my cock as we watch Netflix.

Other times she'll say "You're out of uniform, TB; make yourself more presentable and get me a drink." To which I would dutifully respond "Of course, Ms Baker, as you wish," and immediately strip down to my birthday suit to act as her naked waiter all evening. I'll grab a beer or two for myself as well but I'll always return by her side, standing at attention awaiting her next order. I especially enjoy these moments because while I'm standing there, my dick is level with her face and she'll often lean over and give it a quick kiss.

Sometimes she'll want to play when she's upset too, to blow off some steam. One time when she was pissed at me -- for nothing I particularly recall -- she said "There's no need to dress so formally, Tinkerbell. Get comfortable so you can paint my toe nails." I stripped nude while she made herself comfortable on the couch. She had me kneel down at her feet, with my back to the television, while she put on the latest Marvel movie that I had been eagerly waiting to see. She pulled out her phone and loudly scrolled through Tik-Tok while I struggled to listen to the movie I wanted to see playing out behind me.

I finished painting her nails with more than half the movie left, but when I started to sit on the couch to watch the rest of the movie, she stopped me. "No, no, not yet Tinkerbell. They need to dry still." She pointed to the ground and moved her finger in a gentle swirling motion, so I dutifully got down my on hands and knees to let her rest her feet on my back, like a naked human foot rest. I tried to turn my head to watch the TV from down there, but Beth moved our actual foot rest to block my view and continued loudly browsing Tik-Tok.

She kept me down there until well after the movie had finished, and the credits, and the multiple after-credit scenes. But it was still worth it, because afterwards all my transgressions were forgiven -- whatever they may have been --and we had a really nice fuck. I have no problem letting her vent her frustrations that way, if that's her end-game.

Whenever she calls me by my pet name, I get a little weak in the knees. She's been calling me that for our games for so long that it's almost a pavlovian response by now. Whether it's the full 'Tinkerbell' or just her short-hand 'TB' it always turns me on, and puts me into something I've heard called 'sub-space.' It's kinda like being 'in the zone' for a submissive. I'm almost too eager to follow her instructions.

That's not to say I don't have my limits. Even if I'm turned on. One summer afternoon about seven or eight years ago, Beth turned to me and said "Tinkerbell, let's go for a drive.... and leave your shirt here; it's too nice a day!"

"Oh, yeah, okay." I peeled my shirt off and tossed it inside the garage. "Where we going?"

"You'll see. I just wanna get myself a little treat."

We got into Beth's car, and she rolled the top down. It was really a gorgeous day out, and it felt great with the wind rushing through my hair and caressing my chest. After twenty minutes of driving or so, I noticed we were getting into a sketchier part of town. Strip clubs, sex shops, tattoo parlors all around. She pulled up to one tattoo/piercing shop and said "We're here. I want to get one or two of my nipples pierced, Tinkerbell. Come help me pick them out."

I followed her into the shop, daydreaming what her tits would look like with rings or barbells in them. I was lost in thought enough I didn't hear Beth start talking with the clerk, a goth-looking woman with pink and blue hair, in her early twenties -- not much younger than me.

"... with bells, eh? We don't have too many of those. I mean, if you went with a slightly higher gauge ringlet, I guess you could hook whatever you want onto them... but a higher gauge right outta the gate will hurt more--"

Beth interrupted the clerk, "I'm not worried about the pain. My man can handle it." She hugged me tightly sideways as she said this.

"Wait, what pain am I handling? You said you were getting your nipples pierced."

"Babe, we're married now, remember? What's mine is mine and what's yours is mine. Your nipples are my nipples, and I want to get some bells for my Tinkerbell! Pleeeease... Tinkerbell?"

My head was swimming. And truth be told, my cock was tenting my shorts. Was I really going to do this?

Beth continued looking at piercings while I heard the blood pounding in my ears. I came back to reality as Beth had picked out the rings she wanted.

The clerk guided me to one of the chairs near the back of the shop. "Just have a seat here, sir. You're topless so this will be pretty quick and easy, but it's going to hurt like a mother."

Beth asked with a twinkle, "Would it be even easier if he was bottomless too?"

The clerk wasn't buying what Beth was trying to sell. "Nope, he's good as is." I was grateful for that, but I was starting to shake more uncontrollably the closer she got to actually piercing my nipples.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up to Beth's worried voice "Tim? Tim, oh thank god. You scared me there. It's okay, it's over."

I quickly brought my hands up to my nipples, feeling for the new metal, but I came up empty. I looked quizzically at my wife.

"We didn't do it, Tim. You passed out before she even got close to you with the piercing gun."

The clerk spoke up, holding a pair of bells on alligator clips. "You know, I do have a couple of these clip on titty-twisters, if a piercing is too much to handle."

Still a bit dazed, I walked up to the clerk and took the bells from her hands. Gingerly, I clipped them to each nipple. It stung a bit when they clipped, but the pain quickly lessened to a dull ache. I turned to show Beth, giving my torso a shimmy shake and the bells tinkled with every move I made.

Beth laughed with delight. "They're perfect! You pay up and I'll wait for you in the car, Tinkerbell!" She gave me a passionate kiss, with tongue, then flicked the bells a couple times, before walking out of the shop.

And that's how I put my foot down about piercings.

Beth tried to push things again a few years later. I was giving her a naked foot rub... that is to say, I was naked on my knees massaging Beth's feet, while she relaxed on the couch swiping through her phone. She chuckled then turned it around to show me the screen. "What do you think?"

I was not greeted by a whimsical meme, as I expected. "It's a penis... who is that?"

"I dunno. Just some guy - it doesn't matter. What do you think of the tattoo?"

The photo was a close-up of a flaccid uncircumcised penis, bereft of pubic hair with the word "slut" inked just above the base in cursive, surrounded by blue flowers.

"I mean I guess it looks fine, as far as that kinda thing goes. Nice flowers and all. But, oh my god, that'd be so embarrassing!"

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'? It's obvious, everyone could see it, and--"

"Everyone? It's practically right on his dick. Nobody see's your dick but me. Right?"

"Yeah, of course, but what about the gym?"

"Do you look at other men's dicks in the locker room?"

"Of course not!"

"Exactly, and nobody's looking at yours.... Besides, you are my slut, aren't you, Tinkerbell? You'd do anything I say, wouldn't you? What's so wrong with letting the world know how much you love your wife."

"Well, of course I love you. A tattoo's a big step though."

"How about this, TB: Let's do a trial run? I'll grab a marker and you ready the canvas."

I stared dumbly at her for a few seconds.

She pointed at my crotch. "That bush has got to go."

My eyebrows shot up in comprehension. I'd never shaved my pubes before, so it was with some reluctance I acquiesced, retreating to the bathroom.

When I returned to the living room Beth watched me with wide eyes and a big Cheshire Cat grin.

"I look twelve years old," I said.

"No, TB, you look hot!" Beth walked over to me and pressed her body hard against mine. She grabbed my ass firmly and kissed me deeply, then slowly kneeled down and ran her tongue over my cock. "You look like a slut. You look like my slut."

She then took me in her mouth, and gave me the most amazing blowjob I'd ever had. "I'm cumming!" Normally if Beth was giving me a blowjob, she'd stop before I came and finish me off with her hands, but this time she kept her mouth clamped around my dick head, swirling her tongue around my dick while I came. It was pure bliss.

She stood up and opened her mouth to show me all my cum, then catching me completely off guard she leaned in for a kiss and forced all that cum into my own mouth. "Don't spill a drop, slut!" I had never so much as tasted myself before and now my mouth was full of my warm and salty seed.

Then she kneeled back down and put my now soft dick back in her mouth. I was hard again in seconds. "There we go! Now it's my turn. Fuck me hard, slut, and keep that cum in your mouth!" She bent face down onto the couch and flipped the hem of her dress over her back, revealing her lack of panties. Our couch is low to the ground, so it was awkward for me to fuck her doggy-style, but you wouldn't hear me complain. I couldn't anyway with my mouth full. I got on one knee, and stretched my other leg out, almost doing the splits.

Beth was more vocal than usual. "Fuck me. That's right, fuck me you slut, just like that. Fuck me with that smooth cock. Don't you cum before I do! Do you like that? Do you? Cat got your tongue? I'm so close!"

She came in record time, and I could feel myself approaching my second orgasm of the night. But before I could finish, Beth pulled herself off me. I reached down to take myself in hand, but Beth stopped me. "Nuh-uh, Tinkerbell. I want you to beg me first."

I stared at her with my eyebrows raised, trying to remind her my mouth was full. She stared back.

"Plpff cagh I cugm."

"I can't understand a thing you say when you talk with your mouth full."

I realized exactly what she wanted me to do, and I was horny enough to do it. I stared down at Beth's gaping 'just-fucked' pussy, and swallowed the cum I'd been holding in my mouth for the last 10 minutes.

"Please can I cum?" I whispered.

Wordlessly Beth grabbed the permanent marker and wrote "BETH'S SLUT" in thick block letters between my belly button and my cock.

"No, I think you've cum enough for one night, slut. I'm going to bed."

Alone with nothing but my hard-on and my thoughts, I looked at myself in the hallway mirror. Drying streaks of cum ran down the corners of my mouth, the taste still coating my throat; thick black letters proclaiming myself to be my wife's slut, partially obscured by my erect and completely hairless cock and balls; hair matted to my forehead from sweat.

I headed upstairs to find Beth already asleep in her flannel pajamas in bed. I brushed, and gargled mouthwash twice, before lying next to her naked, knowing I wasn't about to fall asleep anytime soon.

A few days later Beth said to me "How's your tattoo looking, TB? I think you should show me the full effect."

I stripped naked, and stood before her, flexing.

"Aww, it's fading. That's too soon. You'd better touch it up, and touch up that shave too, Tinkerbell."

Shaving the stubble away was no problem, but writing BETH'S SLUT upside down was challenging.

Beth repeated the same commands every few days, varying the wording each time, but the intent was always the same. Shave my crotch, and reinforce her "tattoo."

She made me reapply that tattoo for the rest of the year. It was strange when I stopped writing it. I'd had it for so long I kinda missed it. But I've kept up the shaving ever since. It took some getting used to but I like it, and Beth loves it.

I shaved my dick one again for Beth, eager for when we get back home from Jane's game night. I dressed in casual clothes -- khakis, button-up shirt, socks underwear, a typical get up, and join Beth in the garage, letting her drive.

Beth met Jane a few months ago when she switched gyms, and they became fast friends.

"So who's gonna be at this game night?" I asked Beth, as she drove to Jane's house.

"Well let's see... there's Jane of course, and her husband Bill. And there'll be their friends Bonnie and Joe, and Clair and Stan. And us. Come to think of it, I think they're all Jane's friends and their husbands. It should be a fun night!"

Beth pulled into the driveway of a spacious property. It was the kinda place that you couldn't immediately see the neighbors's property. There were three other cars already parked.

"Oh, one other thing Tinkerbell. I want you to get naked before the night is done. For at least 1 hour. No clothing whatsoever."

Chapter, The Only

"What!?! When? HOW??"

"How and when you get naked is entirely up to you. But it must be for at least 1 full hour. Oh, and no proposing we all play strip poker or something like that -- you're the only one naked tonight!"

"What am I supposed to say? 'You have a lovely home Jane, do you mind if I get naked?' They'll think I'm nuts."

"You could do it that way, or you could just knock on their door nude! Or you could take off one piece at a time slowly over the course of the night. You're in complete control."

I snorted at that line. "Doesn't feel like it. It'll be incredibly embarrassing."

Beth grinned. "It'll be completely humiliating. And you'll love every second of it. Look at it this way: I know how much of an exhibitionist you want to be, but I'm the only one who gets to see you. You can do this tonight and never see these people again. But I promise you if you play along, this will be a night you will replay in your mind for the rest of your life. Nobody knows anything except for you and me, and I won't say a word. Now, Tinkerbell, will you get naked tonight?"

I swallowed hard. "Yes, ma'am!"

"There's a good slut." Beth got out of the car and headed to the front door.

Thinking quickly, I removed my shoes and socks before putting my shoes back on. Socks would be the hardest thing to surreptitiously remove. I rushed to join Beth as she knocked on the door, wondering how to get naked in the least embarrassing way possible.

A woman I assumed was Jane opened the door and warmly greeted Jane with a hug. She was five feet tall if she was an inch, with close cropped auburn hair. She looked a little older than Beth's 41 years, maybe closing in on 50. That put her almost 20 years older than me. But she was in great shape for her age, and I could tell she was a gym regular.

Turning to me she said "And this must be your Tim I've heard so much about." She hugged me as well and invited us inside. "Please make yourselves at home."

Was this my opening? I thought to myself. Use her common phrase as an invitation to strip down and feign that I was just doing as she suggested? No, of course not, what kind of imbecile would do that??

I walked into the house with Beth and kicked off my shoes. The hardwood felt cool under my bare feet. I looked around the living room, and saw the other couple sitting around the couch, all oh whom were still wearing their shoes. At glanced down at Beth's feet and saw she had left her shoes on as well.

Jane gestured to the Beth and I, and said to the group "Everyone, this is Beth Baker and her husband, Tim."

Beth waved to the group, and added "Tim's too polite to correct you, but all his friends call him TB. Isn't that right, TB?"

My mouth went dry hearing my wife say her secret kink name for me out loud. "Yes, ma'am," I croaked out.

It appeared the group took my response for a good natured riffing on being polite, because they all chuckled. As much as the group must have assumed TB was short for Tim Baker, my wife and I knew it was really short for Tinkerbell, which Beth called me whenever she wanted me to be submissive. I could feel my face getting flush.

Jane made introductions. "Alright then, well Beth, TB, this is my husband Bill, beside him are Bonnie and Joe, and Clara and Stan are at the end."

Hearing a veritable strange call me my kink name raised a lot of mixed emotions in me. On one hand it was arousing - as it always was hearing that name, on the other, it was incredibly embarrassing. Despite nobody knowing the real meaning behind it, I felt completely exposed. Even though I had only removed my shoes it was like I was completely naked already. Actually, I guess I'm going to find out soon enough if it really feels like that or not.

Bill stood up to shake my hand. He was a giant of a man. Six feet tall, over 300 pounds, most of which was probably muscle some ten years earlier. He looked the same age as Jane, with thin greying hair. "Nice to meet you, TB. Do you have the money?"

"Money?? I'm sorry, I don't--"

Jane was quick to interject. "Don't let Bill scare you. We always play game night with a little ante. It keeps everybody honest, plus the winner gets a nice little bonus." She laughed at the surprise on my face. "Oh don't worry, it's nothing like that... nobody's walking home wearing a barrel. We play $125 a person. Winner takes home a cool grand."

That price tag didn't alleviate my concerns. Beth was the real bread winner of our house; I only did small jobs here and there. Or maybe here was another opportunity? I can offer to ante my clothes instead!