The Wrong Bag - with Epilogue

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Author's Note: This is a quick one about Brad and Mandy. Brad found out his wife was cheating on him, so he took appropriate steps. This is the story of his revenge.

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Brad came in close behind his wife and slipped a hand around her slim waist. Amanda leaned back into him, her hands pausing in the sink where she was prewashing the dinner dishes. He nuzzled his trim beard into her neck and kissed her gently as she cooed.

"Do you trust me, Mandy?"

"Of course! Why would you ask that?"

"Because I want to try something new tonight. In the bedroom." The place where sex doesn't happen anymore, he didn't say out loud. He could feel her tense up. She went back to scrubbing the plate, her elbow poking him in the belly to push him gently away. Her subtle techniques to make space between them were now so incredibly obvious to him.

"I'm sorry, Brad, I'm just..." She let it trail off, hoping the previous hundred denials would fill in the blanks.

"Tired?" One of her many excuses.

"Yeah! It's been a long day and I really need to relax."

"That's perfect. I don't need you to do a thing. You can relax, completely, the whole time."

"I mean... I guess a backrub would be nice, but..."

"Please, Mandy. We need this." Amanda set the plate in the dishwasher, rinsed her hands, and pulled a towel off the hook. She turned and started to dry her hands, forcing some space between herself and her husband of six years, almost defensively. He could see annoyance cross her lovely face for a moment but she quickly had herself under control.

"Brad, I'm not in the mood." You could hear the period at the end of her sentence. He kept his voice gentle and loving, as best he could.

"It's been a long time since you were in the mood, honey. It's becoming a problem." No, it was a problem long ago.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but I've got... I need to be in a certain frame of mind, and I can't get there with all the stress and pressure in my life right now. My job, the credit card, the housework, the car, my family and the, the... the air conditioner! Everything!" She threw her hands up theatrically as if the entire universe was set against her being intimate with her husband and she was simply powerless in the matter. Brad kept his face calm, not displaying his displeasure.

The AC was down for all of twenty hours last month before the tech could get it repaired, free of charge due to the warranty, and Brad had handled it all. It wasn't even terribly warm that night. The credit card was just a fluke lost payment, easily settled with a phone call and no late fee. The car had a flat two months ago, which Brad fixed with no inconvenience to Amanda. Just like all of her excuses, it was easily discarded as nonsense once the pattern was visible.

"That is a lot," he said. A lot of bullshit. "I understand. But hear me out."

"No, Brad. I'm sorry, but no." She crossed her arms under her breasts and tried to look resolved. Her foot was down. He hung his head for a moment, as if in defeat. Then he put a hand into his denim pocket and pulled out a weathered scrap of paper. He held it in his hands tenderly for a moment, then handed it to his wife.

"You gave me this on our wedding day. Part of a little packet of love coupons." It was thick white cardstock paper with bright red calligraphy proclaiming 'SEX! Anytime! Anywhere!' Amanda took it, read it carefully as she brushed her fingertips across the surface, then held it to her chest. Brad watched the play of emotions across her face, wondering what calculus churned behind those lovely brown eyes. Would it work? Was there anything left in there?

"What should I wear?" Her tone was gentle and loving, dusky and provocative, the way she used to be. Her beautiful smile was the same as the day they met, as the day they married, as it would always live in his heart. He could almost believe that she was still his, and that rattled him. That she could turn this on so easily, when it had been absent so long, was almost shocking. Brad smiled and it was the hardest thing he'd done in weeks.

"Something simple. Elegant. Maybe... the white lingerie you wore on our wedding night?" Her eyes flared for a fraction of a second. Brad could see the pulse in her long, lovely neck. But the smile didn't waver.

"All right then. Give me a few minutes to freshen up?" she asked.

"Of course. I'll meet you in the bedroom in fifteen minutes."

He moved in for a kiss and she met him halfway, that perfect lovely smile still in place. But the eyes told a different story. They were hard and tense. Scared? Angry? Hard to tell.

Amanda went to the master suite, while Brad filled a cup with ice from the fridge. He went to the spare bedroom. The third bedroom was Mandy's office and he was discouraged from going in there. Client confidentiality, he had been told. She had paperwork lying around that could get somebody in trouble if it got out. That story had worked for a long time.

Another jolt of worry shook him. Would this work? Did it really matter, in the long run? No, not really. This plan was all a big cherry on top of the sundae. Nice to have, but not critical to the process. Still, he was excited at the possibility. That he was even able to roll these dice was reward enough. He knew he had done everything he could.

In the spare room, Brad checked his gear. Laid out on a party platter he'd brought from under the kitchen cabinet was a selection of toys. A single long-stemmed rose, a black leather flogger with many slender leather tails, a clutch of feathers on a foot-long wand, a riding crop with a small leather head, the cup of ice, a long, thin soy wax candle and a lighter, a thick black blindfold, and a few more odds and ends. He threw a spare hand towel over the tray and checked his watch. Nine minutes.

On the desk, he unlocked his laptop and checked again that the other preparations were in place. All good. Nothing had changed in the last half hour. He just needed to wait until the last moment. Brad once again reconsidered his path, but he'd been over it enough in his head already. No second guessing now.

Seven minutes. Brad did some deep breathing exercises to settle himself for the next hour or so. It didn't work. How long would this really take? What had he not considered? How could this backfire? He checked his watch every 30 seconds until it was time. Finally, he clicked a couple of boxes on the screen, closed his laptop, and dropped it in the case. He collected the cords and stowed them one last time. He was all ready to go. Brad then scooped up the platter with all his toys. Down the hall, he tapped a toe against the master suite door to knock, his hands full with the covered tray.

"Ready for me?" he asked.

"I'm ready," his wife replied. No, you're not.

Brad pushed the door open and smiled at the sight. Damn, she was a beautiful woman! Amanda, his wife of six years, stood there in white heels and white lingerie, a demi-cup bra that pushed her generous tits out front and center, a garter belt and white stockings, and crotchless panties, all covered in delicate lace. It had been the outfit under her wedding dress. She was flawless. On the outside, anyway. He had always loved that she was only a few inches shorter than him, and on high heels, she met his eyes perfectly. It was a strange thing to like, but he did. Well, he had. He used to think he was lucky to have landed such an incredibly sexy woman.

"You are as lovely as the day I met you," he said.

"Better, I'd say." Her confidence was palpable and her fingers touched the lace around the bra. Her dark nipples were already hard. She had a point. Her long hours 'in the gym' had paid off admirably. Her 31-year-old body was strong and toned, her tits firm and high, her dark hair long and flowing, her face lovely and smiling. She was stunning in so many ways.

"Better," Brad agreed. He set the tray down on the dresser and approached his wife. She had her wild eyes under control now and that beautiful face seemed to be all his. He embraced her gently and held her close. Amanda cast a curious gaze at the covered tray.

"You have some treats for me over there?" A note of sexy, playful anticipation tinged her voice.

"Something like that." He broke the embrace and held her face in his hands, then kissed her lips carefully, reverently, as if it would be their last. She returned the kiss just as gently, letting him lead. When he broke the kiss he looked into her eyes again. Her mask was well in place.

"On the bed, please. In the middle. Prop your head up on a pillow or two and get comfortable." Amanda complied, crawling to the center of the bed, puffing up some pillows, and laying spread eagle as requested. Brad went to the corner of the bed where her right ankle lay and reached under the mattress. He brought out a padded Velcro restraint and wrapped it quickly around her ankle. That got a rise out of her. She sat up with a concerned look on her face.

"Hold on! We haven't talked about this." Her voice was stern and disapproving.

"I asked if you trust me. You said yes."

"I do trust you, but this is something else."

"Yes, it is. I've done my homework and I can guarantee I won't do anything you won't like. And of course, there is a safe word. That's a full stop, I understand how that works. You are 100% safe here."

"Brad, I just..."

"Shhhh. This will be good for us. I really want to explore this with you. Trust me. Please." She was obviously still reluctant but seemed to soften under his tender gaze. Again he watched the battle behind her eyes, and again she acquiesced to him. She lay back down and slowly put her wrist near the corner of the bed.

"I'm trusting you, Brad."

"Thank you, Mandy. You won't regret it." Oh, yes she will.

Quickly he restrained her at wrists and ankles, pulled snugly but not tight, her legs spread wide enough for whatever kind of access Brad desired. He sighed a deep and cleansing breath. That had been the hard part. He was over the hump.

Brad pulled his phone, wallet, and keys out of his jeans and set them on the dresser, then kicked off his shoes. Then he noticed his wife's phone, tucked neatly behind the picture of the two of them at their wedding reception. The picture spoke of pure wedded bliss, now long since gone. He picked up the phone from its hidey-hole.

"What are you doing with my phone?" she asked, fear obviously ringing clearly in her voice.

"Just plugging it in for you. Sorry, so many real-life details to handle." He took it to his dresser and plugged it in and set it down in his metal change dish. That would amplify the buzz of vibration when it started to explode. Brad picked up the tray, delivering it to his wife's side of the bed.

"I know that bondage can lead to some extreme things, but we aren't going anywhere near that tonight. I want you to relax and let me entertain you. I will not push your boundaries, but there will be some new experiences, I think. We're going to have some sensation play. I'll put this blindfold on you, then delight and entertain your skin with experiences. I guarantee it's nothing you'll find objectionable. And if I am wrong, just use the safe word and I immediately stop what I am doing and let you out of the restraints. OK?"

"What's my safe word?"

"Calico." Unusual, unsexy, and thought up at the last second. "Or do you have something else in mind?"

"Calico is fine. Alright. I'm trusting you, Brad." Her voice showed she wasn't 100%, but he was unworried. Everything was aligned now.

"As I trust you, Mandy. Head up." He wrapped the black blindfold around her head, tightening the strap a bit to make it snug. She could rub her head around a bit and work it off in seconds, but it would do the trick.

In silence, Brad flipped the towel off the tray of toys.

"Let's begin."

He lifted the long-stemmed red rose, bought on his way home for maximum freshness. He placed the petals near her nose and let her smell it. Her lips twitched into a smile as she recognized the scent. He touched her cheek with the flower and traced it around her face.

"That tickles," she said quietly.

He continued to trace the lines of her body, down her neck and across her collar bones, around her full breasts and across her nipples, down her firm tummy and over to her hip, then down one leg and back up, then to the other, slowly, sensually. At the inside of her right leg, he turned the stem to bring a thorn to her flesh and pressed it into her.

"Ow!" she exclaimed as she twitched briefly away from the pain. Brad moved the petals over the spot to soothe her.

"Too much?"

"No, just a surprise. Keep going."

"As you wish."

Another pass around her body with the flower and Brad was reaching for another toy. Decisions, decisions. He picked up the flogger and splayed it out on the pillow over Amanda's left shoulder. He slowly pulled the tails across her chest, setting her nipples on fire apparently. They swelled up even harder and her breath caught in her throat.

"Ooh, you liked that. Let's try it again." Brad repeated the motion from the other shoulder, again dragging the soft leather slowly across her tender skin. Her nipples had always been sensitive, but this seemed to excite her more than he expected. Damn shame they couldn't have discovered this much earlier. It might have made a difference.

A harsh sound of vibrating metal crashed into the otherwise quiet room as Amanda's phone received an incoming call or text. They both started at the loud sound.

"Sorry, guess I didn't realize how loud that would be," Brad apologized. Amanda was preoccupied.

"Ignore it," she said, a touch breathlessly. The phone buzzed again as Brad drew the flogger down her torso, across her breasts and belly, and down her legs, some of the strands falling down between and brushing her pubic area. Up and down her legs he used the flogger to gently delight and excite her, then pulled it across her tits a few more times.

A text message clattered her phone briefly in the change dish. Brad smiled.

He reached for the cup of ice and pulled out a cube, then without warning he touched it to Amanda's left nipple. She flinched at the intense sensation and sucked air through her teeth, then moaned the breath back out slowly. Brad had to squash a desire to warm her nipple back up with his mouth and realized this would be more difficult than he realized. He had to admit that he still wanted her, even now. His cock was painfully hard and his resolution wavered.

The ice cube moved to her other nipple, then down her neck, then behind a knee, surprising her with each new location. Brad dropped it back in the cup and picked up another toy, the riding crop. He put his right hand on her breast and squeezed gently, rolling her ice-hardened nipple between his fingers. She squirmed and moaned appreciatively, especially when he twisted the tender nub of flesh with a touch of real force. He moved his hand slowly down her torso, below the garter, below the waistband of her panties, and down to her short-trimmed bush. She tensed like a bowstring being pulled as he approached her clit.

Amanda's phone again buzzed loudly from the dresser. Time to cause a distraction.

One finger slipped down to the cleft in the crotchless panties and into her sopping wet pussy. Figures. This is what it took to break her frigid ways. If she had just talked to him about it first... Brad pulled the slick finger back out and started circling her clit. Her moans of pleasure increased and she tried to grind her hips against his attention.

SWAT! Brad landed a hard blow to her breast with the crop. That lit her up like a Christmas tree.

"Ah! Oh fuck, yeah!" she bellowed. Brad's jaw clenched in disgust. He continued to work her clit, a little more quickly now, and touched the crop gently across her flesh. He lifted it quickly and feigned a strike. She flinched, anticipating the blow that didn't land. Again, and again he tricked her, then landed a true blow to her lower leg. Again she cried out with lust and excitement. Truly, he had never seen this side of his wife,

Time for the candle. He put a new ice cube in her navel and laid the flogger across her tits, then picked up the narrow candle and lighter. Once lit, the thing started dripping wax quickly. The first drop fell on her thigh, She sucked air in through her teeth and flinched. When she exhaled, a quiet "Oh fuck" slipped out of her.

The red candle dropped pink wax on her pale flesh, on her tummy, her arm, her hip, her breast, and every drop pulled a plaintive sound out of Amanda's mouth. Brad let one drop on the back of his hand and was surprised at the intensity of the feeling. He was amazed she continued to accept this abuse. He had intended this to be too much for her. He had intended this experience to be on the edge of torture and even felt bad about it. A little. He shrugged. One more mystery of Amanda.

Brad spent the next twenty minutes switching between his various tools, touching her sensitive flesh with ice, fire, pain, and pleasure. Nipples, clit, behind her ear, collarbones, behind her knee, ankles, toes, the curve of her shapely hip, her navel, and more. He mapped out her body with drops of hot wax and streams of melted ice as she twisted in ever-increasing pleasure under his gentle torture. And all the while, her phone continued to clatter and buzz loudly every few minutes.

Someone decided to keep calling over and over, and Brad knew his time was coming to an end. He picked up the powerful wand vibrator and snapped it on just next to Amanda's ear. She jumped in surprise and then moaned in knowing lust as she recognized the sound.

"Yes! Oh, please let me cum, sir!"

Sir? That was new. Did she even realize she said it? No matter. Brad pushed the round head of the wand into her clit and she wailed in ecstasy. The phone continued its epileptic fit, so Brad had to keep his wife's attention. With his free hand, he again started raining down sensations on her body - ice, impact, feather, the rose thorn, here, there, everywhere. She was in heaven, apparently. If only she had let him in sooner!

He well knew his wife's crescendo to climax, and as she neared the pinnacle, he removed the wand from her pussy and rained almost gentle blows across her torso with the crop, finally landing a stinger right on her clit. She shrieked and growled at him.

"Let me cum, dammit!"

"You didn't say sir." WHACK! The crop landed on her defenseless flank and she recoiled.

"Sorry! Sorry, sir. Please, let me cum!"

Brad replaced the vibrator on her cunt and pressed it in, earning a low, howling moan from deep in her throat.

"Oh fuuuuuuuck!" He held it there for a few moments, then cruelly pulled it away.

"Beg for it," he said.

"Oh God, PLEASE! Please let me cum, sir! I'll be good, I swear!"

"What does 'good' look like to a slut like you?"

Never, not once, had Amanda allowed even the slightest hint of dirty or demeaning language aimed at her, even in the throes of passion. He couldn't even call the cat a bitch for shitting on the carpet. But now she leaned into his words as if they had lit a fire under her.

"I'll be your good slut! I'll fuck you! You can fuck me like a dirty fucking whore! Anything, just please let me cum!"

The dirty fucking whore's phone again blasted away in the change dish as Brad pressed the vibrator back to her sloppy wet crotch. Over and over they fought for dominance, the noise of the phone exploding and the wails and growls coming from Amanda's overstimulated body. He edged her cruelly for what seemed like an hour. A quick check of his watch told him that his time was running short. They'd have a visitor soon.

"That's enough, I think." The loud snap of the switch turning off put an end to her fun. He had considered giving her one last treat, one last going away present from the past where their marriage was still intact. But the pitiful begging of this woman he never really knew disgusted and appalled him. If he'd had any misgivings, this shit show would have dispelled them completely.