"Not just a bed? Care to elaborate on that," I asked.
"Not just yet. Would it be okay if I kept this one secret for the moment?" Jim said.
"You may keep any secrets you wish, my love," I responded without condition, my mind churning over how to discover the secrets of this bed, without Jim's input. An obvious source would be Sheila herself, but how to pull that off and at what eventual cost to myself?
"I've made quite the mess on your bed by the way, do you think you could have the maid clean it up later on after we go to bed across the street?" I asked with a smile.
I had not only invited Jim to share the same bed that Jack and I had at one time shared as our marital bed, but at the same time I had offered a believable reason as to why we couldn't sleep in Jim's. This also could be seen as both the perfect excuse, and time, to have Jim move in with me, not that I needed one though. This was obviously moving very rapidly between Jim and I, but I had this overwhelming feeling of making up for time wasted.
"I think if we work the new maid too hard she might end up late to work yet again," Jim replied.
"So what?" I opined with indifference, my shrugged, naked shoulders perhaps lending some humor to my observation.
"Guys identify with their jobs, this could crush him if he gets canned, you know," Jim offered seriously.
"He's not really a guy in my eyes any longer, and the only job I think he should properly identify with going forward is maid!" the sour words flowing from my mouth like poison.
Was Jim going soft on me, or was this my inner bitch making her rare, ugly appearance because I didn't get to orgasm? I wondered silently.
"I am of a similar mindset, but it's best if you let me handle it, and as I recall, you wanted to limit your exposure to our new maid anyway."
"Yes, and thank you. How ever am I going to properly thank you for taking this burden from me?" I asked with mock seriousness, made all the more ridiculous because I was still nude and dribbling on Jim's bed when I said it.
"Oh, we'll find a way, but on a serious note, we're going to have to find some work for the new maid post employment, if things go as they may. Having her bouncing around between our houses won't occupy all her time, and after mine sells... Visiting Maids was something I made up on the fly to be honest, but did you sense any serious resistance? I didn't, and this tells me our 'maid' is up for just about anything we can dream up. I even have an idea for somebody who can help, if she's willing."
"Oh yeah, she grew up with a maid, Shelia's family is loaded... well her aunt is anyway, and she spent summers with her aunt, and her aunt's maid as a child. Shelia's aunt always had a special place in her heart for me too, so much so that we didn't have the heart to tell her that Shelia and I are no longer together, she's quite old and frail these days."
I was caught up in the conversation Jim and I were having, it was a welcome distraction from the "Mulligan" I was trying to forget about. This possibly also explained why I felt so intimidated by Sheila, she was privy to a whole different set of experiences growing up that I wasn't. For me, success was possible, but so was failure. In Shelia's case I had a feeling success was expected, the proverbial deck stacked in her favor and all she had to do was go through the motions and collect her chips. But, something happened along the way, perfect Jim and her had a falling out and perhaps this bed I was still sitting on even had something to do with that.
If I could only ask what had happened between them, so at the very least I didn't wander into the same trap with Jim, but how to do this escaped me. I concluded that if I was patient long enough Jim might eventually let it slip out, or perhaps Sheila would, if we could ever get back on social terms with each other again...
"I have an idea," Jim stated, and he went on to explain what he had in mind. It was revoltingly sadistic, but I failed to see a reason NOT to do it, other than the missing key, and perhaps Jack's present employer. The key I would have to find, for reasons that would become obvious, and to be absolutely sure that there was one. If I found it, or even if Jim did instead, this would be proof positive that my husband had lied to me yet again, and if that were the case there would be a lifetime of hell to pay, and my conscience would be as crystal clear as my new anklet charm promised to be.
Jack's job would likely work itself out one way or the other too, he had been late several times already with his additional chore load and lacking sleep schedule, and his boss had him under the proverbial microscope. I had little actual sympathy for his plight, his problems were of course self inflicted, and my conditions that both my house, and Jim's, be in inspection ready condition each morning before work in case the realtors wanted to show Jim's, was ironclad.
Jack had painting and other chores next door as well, nights and weekends, in addition to playing maid each morning in both houses right before work, his transition to full time maid from chauffeur seeming like it would be a natural one. He would need a proper uniform to go with his panties at some point, the same style panties I had insisted he wear every day as a reminder of his new household status. The entire feminizing uniform was the next big step, but to work toward that goal I would have to let his hair grow long, and he would have to lose some weight...
"Would you mind if I asked Sheila over here on a pretense, perhaps to give her something we had found cleaning up and getting things ready for the sale? It might be a good way to gauge if she's willing to help with our maid issue, but I really have no idea how she feels about me lately."
"I don't know if that's a good idea," Jim offered flatly, without explanation, but he hadn't necessarily told me "no" either.
"Do you want to walk over for dinner a little early then, my love?" I asked, changing the subject drastically, feeling I had pushed just a little far with Jim at the moment.
"Do you want to hop into the shower first?"
"Why, do I need it?" I asked.
"You smell like sex."
"Good... Could you help me on with my dress then? I already know you're good at taking them off."
"Sending a message?"
I just smiled at Jim in reply, the man was so perceptive, (ordinarily), that words were sometimes unnecessary between us. It felt wonderful to be able to be this close to another human being again, the Mulligan already forgotten in my mind.
Once dressed I walked over to Jim's bedroom windows, facing my own driveway and house, wondering what was going on over there. I knew what should be going on, but that doesn't mean it was. Had our new maid looked through my own windows in this direction earlier, imagining and fantasizing about what was happening over HERE? The massive cum stain on the bed would complete any details she might need obviously, my now necessary birth control pills at the same time confirming the original lie I had been told was a known thing.
I felt rather than saw the neighbor's stare as Jim and I walked from his house to mine, I without shame holding his hand so as to make things as clear as possible for them. Was it still light enough for them to tell that my dress and heels were the only things I wore? I wondered, on this walk of shame that was now anything but shameful for me.
My underthings were to be attended by the maid, just as the bed was, I wanted no ambiguity for him, or is that her? Just to make sure, I intended to have Jim instruct her to hand wash all my delicates, from now on. Such would give her plenty of time to handle and feel that which she would never have the pleasure of removing from my body again, and to see and feel all the new and sexy things I intended to wear for Jim as often as I could. Such would make me seem like a new surprise gift to be unwrapped by Jim's big hands exclusively each and every time we were together.
Dinner was good, good enough that I might "forget" how to cook myself, except when I wanted to. How would I spend my extra time, I wondered? Time at the gym, time with Jim, the play on words was amusing to me. Also amusing to me was the realization that if the new maid had taken notice of my freshly fucked aroma while serving us our wonderful dinner, she had the good sense to keep such things to herself. Jim and I went to bed later that night and didn't make love, a first for us since we had started sleeping together, the maid left with a night's worth of chores and admonished to keep the noise down less she woke us on a work night.
We three got into a routine in the weeks and months that followed, the maid's work possibly easier now because only one of our two houses was actually being ‘lived’ in and messed up each day. Jim instituted a chore checklist on a white board for each house, and a list of the small jobs to be done during our maid's ‘free’ time, of which there was little. These included cutting Jim's lawn, as well as my own, and cleaning our cars inside and out in plain view in our driveway. Jim also gave our maid a pink fitbit tracker and matching scale as a ‘present’, the former to keep track of her activity level, and the latter to ‘help’ her reach our weight goal for her, and make her, unbeknownst to her, maid-uniform ready.
During this time period Jim's clothes and personal effects were incrementally moved from his house, into his new home with me, and my husband's move into the spare guest room became permanent. Any pictures of my husband and I were gradually removed from our walls and put into storage, they were replaced with happier time pictures of Jim and I, the man that was living as if my true husband, all except for a marriage license.
Jim's smart phone kept track of our new maid's work as well, via the fitness tracker - always clocking at least twenty thousand steps a day - as well as it keeping track of her weight loss, averaging between two and three pounds a week at his direction.
Eventually her normal male, work clothes began to hang, this only one step in our elaborate plan, but a necessary one. My husband had been late to work often enough that she was both on probation, and under her bosses’ watchful eye, her weight loss prompted a surprise mandatory work physical on a Friday morning, after she had arrived late still again. The company's position was that this kind of behavior suggested a drug or alcohol problem, as did her lack of a recent haircut and several other work performance clues, and there was little tolerance for such things at her "go nowhere" job.
Jim and I had her reiterate every painful detail later that night, but only after she had cooked our dinner and cleaned up. She was given a rare night off from her chores in Jim's house as he had some news of his own to share with us, after my husband's. We already suspected we knew the gist of what had happened since she was home from work so early, but having her retell the story in detail was another necessary step in this process, and totally fitting from my vindictive point of view.
"I was late again," she started - she was no longer a "he" to me, especially with the weight loss - "but only by five minutes. She was waiting for me at the door this time though, my boss that is. She looked satisfied with herself, as if she had just caught me. The head of security was there as well, and he personally escorted me to the medical wing with a folder that she had handed him, the doctor already there and waiting as well. It was a full toxicology with breathalyzer, the breathalyzer instantaneous, and showing I wasn't presently 'drunk,' the toxicology to take a few days ordinarily, but here as well they had a tech standing by and in early herself to expedite the process."
"Next was the actual physical, I was terrified, but she had me strip down to my 'underwear' and put on a gown in private, she coming back in and checking my blood pressure and pulse herself, both were obviously elevated, but for good reason. My weight was next, gown and all I was down twenty four pounds since I was hired. When's the last time you ever heard a doctor suggest that you lost too much weight?" she asked us rhetorically.
"Never," we replied in unison, Jim and I sitting together on the couch, and I almost in Jim's lap as our maid was made to stand before us and relive this painful episode for us in minute detail. It was as if she were a child that had just got in serious trouble at school and been sent home, and now she had to explain herself.
"Then came the 'open the gown' part of the exam, she looking right at my silky panties, and then into my eyes with a smirk, but not saying a word. She mostly kept her professional composure, but then had me remove the gown completely, although I'm sure my preference for panties would make it into the official report somehow. Next came the 'lower the panties' part of the exam, but my locked on clear glass chastity cage broke through her professional demeanor, she snickering at me, before examining both it, and me, in exacting detail. She then had me step out of my panties completely so she could examine my butt as I was bent over the exam table, and then she listened to my heart and lungs as I stood there naked and on display before her. Everything was okay in both places, or so I assumed. She then went to her computer and started typing her lengthy notes as I was left standing there, as I hadn't been given permission to dress yet. Her nurse then knocked once and came right in with a purpose to her stride, the same one that had handed me my gown, she looked me up and down in quick dismissive assessment like only a medical person can, going right to my chastity cage, no doubt the doctor needing a witness for her report."
"To make a long story short, I am officially on a 'medical' leave of absence, my boss telling me not to bother coming back until I get my 'shit' together, and that after six months there would be nothing to come back to anyway."
I almost felt sorry for our maid, almost...
"Is there anything else?" Jim asked, his active participation in this "confession" our maid was being forced to give, I think, adding something especially sadistic to the experience for her. Jim had taken not only me from her, but her home, bed, and now even her career. One might have expected some kind of breakdown, or even foolish physical challenge to Jim's commanding authority in our home, but neither came, her debasement so compete. I wished that there was some way to personally thank her boss for her unwitting efforts on our behalf, there but one thing left to take from this lying former man of mine, but that process had already begun months ago.
"I don't know who will hire me with this hanging over my head, and I don't know how I'll meet my half of the mortgage now either."
"That's easy to handle with a power of attorney, my lawyer will draw it up for you, and once you sign it, you have no more debts and they become mine instead" Jim advised.
"Thank you," our maid gushed, her desperation causing her to stop thinking critically. One could argue that particular process had also begun months ago, she trading a short term kinky fantasy concept for a reality that few married ‘men’ would choose.
"Now for my news," Jim stated. "I have a rather handsome offer on the house, well over the listing price as a bidding war of sorts had developed. The closing agent even asked me if I knew of any others in the neighborhood that might be up for sale."
Our maid was still standing there, as if this conversation somehow involved her, Jim excusing her to "make herself busy someplace else." It was a cruel dismissal with everything she had been through that day, but my empathy was lacking. Jim went on to explain to me that we could put my house up and sell it as well in the coming months, finding a rather nice one for ourselves with some custom features added, and in a place where our being together and having a maid of our own wouldn't draw attention.
Things were obviously going quite well for Jim and I relationship wise, the sex was truly fantastic, and we even had our own maid, except of course for a proper maid's uniform. Jim had a plan for this as well that would ease our maid into this full time feminizing alter ego, but certain details he was less than forthcoming in sharing with me. Jim's bed and the secrets it obviously held kept coming back to me though, and I knew that we would have to do something with it one way or the other when he closed on the house, Sheila sure to be there as well at some point before closing to do a walk through and collect anything she wanted to keep.
It was a perfect time to ask Shelia about the bed, and I called her on a pretense about some things in her former home that she might like to keep, and what she wants to do with them. I even took the day off to meet her. I didn't bother to tell Jim, our maid, busy cleaning and painting in my own home with all her new found free time, getting it ready for a second sale, unbeknownst to her. This would leave me alone with Sheila by design, so we could have some girl talk without any interruptions.
I was trying to be all nice and cheerful with her as we walked through her former home mid morning, we entered the master bedroom, and her mood and face went sour as we did. There was something about this room for her too, it seemed, and I was determined to know what it was, so much so that I was willing to skirt Jim's wishes in contacting Shelia one on one.
"You don't like this room?" I asked, although it was hardly necessary.
Instead of directly answering, she walked to the windows looking down at my own home across the street, pulling the curtains aside and staring, as if she were reliving something she didn't want to.
"It was summer time, two years ago, Jim and I were up here doing what I suspect you know by now that Jim does extraordinarily well. To be totally accurate, we had just finished doing that ourselves, I thinking I had sated him as only a loving wife could, with his extreme... aggression, I mean. Well anyway, you were over there washing your husband's car for him, in this little lime green bikini you had, or for all I know still do have. He looked through this same window, just like I just did, and watched you happily cleaning your husband's car for him."
"'How come you don't do that for me?'" he asked me. I watched him grow hard again as he watched you intently, his ambiguous words perhaps unintended, but his physical response was undeniable. That started an obvious row between us, and here you are two years later, in my place. I'm therefore left to wonder what your husband thinks of your little affair with my 'husband,' or should I say former husband?"
"I'm sorry, I had no idea," I told her honestly. Here Jim was, possibly lusting for me, watching my innocent flash of flesh in my driveway long before he was apparently "back on the market" himself. I hadn't told her Jim and I were a thing either, nor that we were intimate, but she came knowing that, I left to wonder at how exactly she knew.
"No worries, I'm over it now," Sheila lied.
"Does your husband know?" Sheila pressed; I was suspecting this might be the last civil conversation we ever had if I didn't do something, and I still needed to know about the bed specifically. Jim had said it's "not just a bed," telling me this room, to him, wasn't the real problem.
"I would so like it if we could still be friends, Sheila. How about we play a game? I'll tell you a truth, and then you do the same? I'll even go first."
"Okay, I prefer the truth," Sheila admitted, her tone telling me she had thought I was being less than honest with her so far.
"My husband not only knows, he even arranged it..." I went on to explain how I went from innocently dancing, to dating, to our overnight city date - without the details of that part specifically - all with my husband's strange cooperation. I left out the chastity cage and his recent termination though, but I included his playing chauffeur for us on our dates while driving her former large SUV for us, Sheila listening respectfully and not interrupting once.
"Simply incredible," Sheila told me when I had finished my story, "but a deal is a deal, what truth would you like to know in return?"
"What's up with this bed?"
"Curious, so you two haven't 'done it' on this bed yet?"
"No" I lied, less Sheila truly got angry with me, and I had already hurt her far more than I ever wanted to, giving her fair motivation.
"Very well, it was a gift from me, a very kinky and custom designed one. It cost a fortune to have made, but to see what it can really do you're going to have to strip down a little for me so I can show you. It's such a pretty dress," Sheila added.
Sheila had almost certainly seen me in my bikini, if not that particular fateful day, then one of the other times I was washing cars in my driveway while working on my tan, so this ‘exposure’ would be nothing new for her, my brand new sheer bra and panties the rough equivalent of my wet bikini. As I stripped off my dress, slip, and heels I noticed her doing something behind the headboard, sliding the heavy wood pieces up and out of a channel made into the massive vertical timbers at the head of the bed.
She lifted the heavy wood pieces easily, I discounted her obvious physical strength as she was half again my weight, and the fact that she practiced some sort of martial arts on a regular basis didn't hurt either I'm sure. Simply stated, Sheila could kick my ass and seriously hurt me if she had wanted to, so my stripping down for her was ‘voluntary’, but at the same time necessary.
"Lay down on your back and hang your head off the mattress" Sheila commanded, after looking my body up and down once, but her poker face giving nothing away as to her thoughts. My neck went into the half hole cut out in the center of the base piece, my wrists into the smaller two cut outs left and right of my neck, this looking like one half of a medieval stock in some ancient town square, only I was on my back instead of kneeling, or standing.
As if to confirm my suspicions, Sheila carefully slid the complimentary heavy top piece down, after flipping it in her strong arms, the massive chunk of lumber trapping me in place.
"Pretty kinky, isn't it?" Sheila asked proudly, my hanging head near her crotch and I forced to look up at her submissively.
"I looked right up at this thing and never realized what it really was" I confided, perhaps telling Sheila that I had lied to her about not making love to Jim on this particular bed ‘yet’. I was fascinated by this bed, and the restraint it could provide, but something was still missing here, as this looked more playful than anything else, at least to me...
"There are ankle holes in the foot board, but I don't know if you'd be able to reach them, even with just your wrists trapped and neck free... as I'm considerably taller than you are. I'm sure you'll be able to reach this though," Sheila coming around to my body side of the headboard and out of my line of sight, making me feel suddenly more vulnerable as I couldn't see what she intended.
"Do you want the whole experience?" Sheila asked, as if I had a choice now.
"Sure, why not?" I asked rhetorically, I was already at Sheila's mercy, better to just humor her and learn all that I could about this kinky bed and be done with it.
I then felt something wide placed around each of my bare ankles, I later found out that several "bed" accessories were kept in a secret compartment under the bed for easy use, as were some other toys. Long leather straps with rings riveted in were set around both of my ankles, slip knot fashion, and then led forward to the next level top part of the head board with its own half hole cutouts. Sheila came back around where I could see her and set the top piece of the headboard in the top of the channel it was designed to fit, but the pieces were now assembled in such a way that the bed's other kinky purpose was now obvious.
"Your ankles go way up here," Sheila told me, showing me how the cuts were made in the thick wood at an angle so as to comfortably accommodate a woman's leg shape and angle while thus restrained in it. With the wood boards assembled out of order the bed's half hole headboard designs had looked like anything but what it really was, at least to me.
She then reached over me to pull the straps attached to my ankles, but I couldn't see a thing as my head found itself trapped under her designer dress, I left staring up at her panty covered womanhood while both feeling, and smelling, the heat radiated from her there.
"Oh, how rude of me," Sheila insincerely quipped when she saw where my head had ended up. I half expected her actions were intentional, rubbing my proverbial nose in it, so to speak. She stopped what she was doing to strip off her own dress, putting us on a more even playing field, clothing wise at least. Sheila was still in charge, no matter how she was dressed, I felt it radiate from her like it had been painted on her magnificent body, I once again felt insignificant in her presence. Sheila radiated power, and I likely radiated a complimentary submission to that power, although that's not how I intended this little meeting to go when I had initiated it.
Her body, sans dress - what I could see of it looking up at her as I was - was firm and fit, her breasts massive, and likely the envy of every man she interacted with. I was admittedly envious of what she had, and I didn't. Our bodies positioning was still the same though, born out of necessity to get my own body to flex and bend itself in half while placing my widely spread ankles over my head, they then to be trapped at the edges of the massive king sized headboard as I passively allowed it. Sheila pinned my head between her strong thighs, crushing in on me just a little to let me know what she could really do to me if she wanted, and preventing any second thoughts on my cooperation with her at this point. She then pulled my ankles up where she intended by the leather straps, bending my body in half and elevating my hips from the bed as I felt my tendons stretch unnaturally.
Sheila placed my ankle tethers into my hands, telling me unnecessarily to hold them tightly. She then dropped the heavy top most board, trapping my ankles in place, except if I somehow found the strength to force the heavy wood up and out of the channel it rested in while in such an awkward position. The problem with that was two fold; one, Sheila wouldn't allow it, and two, even if she left me alone for an extended period of time like this and I were successful, the heavy wood piece had a good chance of falling directly on top of me and inflicting some serious injury.
I think Sheila was watching my eyes, or perhaps reading my mind, because I then watched her take two small iron pins and place them into holes in the top track piece, trapping the stacked wood contraption in place, and obviously me as well.
"You're not going to let me out of this thing right away, are you?" I asked Sheila matter of factly.
"If that's your next question, that means I get at least two next... Orrrr, better yet, since we seem to have most of the day to ourselves anyway, how about I just ask you anything I would like instead? I have a new game I'd like to play, it's like a variation on your truth game. I ask you questions, and if you answer truthfully, not too much bad happens. Buuuut, if you don't, then I get to discover the truth any way I like."
"Something tells me we're going to be playing your new game, and not mine."
"You're a smart girl, and you obviously have a killer body, let's play our games and try not to damage you too much in the process? If I had wanted to hurt you, I could have found easier ways to do so, but then Jimmy would know our little secret, wouldn't he? Now, first question, are the scissors still downstairs in the drawer by the back door?"
"I don't know, I never went looking for them before."
"Fair enough, and good for you as this sounds like the truth to me. Don't go away, I'll be right back."
The scissors apparently weren't there, but the garden shears were still in the garage, they like a huge pair of scissors themselves, except cumbersome and dangerous for me should Sheila be anything but gentle and careful. It didn't take much of an imagination to know what she intended for those, although she could do all sorts of other very terrible things with them as well if she had wished to torture me instead.
"Don't move a muscle you sexy little man thief," I heard less than five minutes later, unable to actually see what Sheila was doing, my line of sight blocked, and my view limited to staring mostly up at the ceiling on ‘my’ side of the massive headboard. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that I was overdressed for her purposes though, I thinking it a shame as my bra and panty set was new, but if she had instructed me to strip completely I would have been forewarned, and might not have laid down on Jim's bed for her to begin with, at least without a struggle, which I was certain to lose anyway.
"Please don't ruin them, they're new," I pleaded, but only half heartedly, I somehow knowing that Sheila intended to have some fun with her new captive, but nothing worse than this. We had been friends and neighbors once, and while she, in her mind, had a good reason to be pissed off at me, and to a greater extent my husband, she wasn't a psychopath.
I fought the desire to panic and thrash around as the cold shears made quick work of my panties, but with my legs held splayed obscenely wide she had an easy target. She also had just as easy a target for my more tender and, useful-to-Jim, girl parts, and had she wanted to she could have done anything she liked to me down there with those same shears. I would have been powerless to stop her, except for screaming my head off and thrashing around, at least until I passed out.
As if sensing my worst fears, and then wishing to toy with me at the same time over them, I felt Sheila lay the blades of the closed and cold shears directly on my naked and protruding girl parts. Jim's size, and the frequency of our intimate fun time together, leaving me perpetually protruding down there like my husband never had, at least that I remembered. The shears were obviously intended to cut shrubbery, in Sheila's strong arms they could make easy work of my tender girl flesh, ruining me for life, and for Jim, if of course she had wanted to.
Sheila tapped me there with the shears lightly, reminding me that she preferred the truth from me, her spoken threat not necessary, although I didn't think deep down that it was anything BUT a threat...
My bra was thankfully next and, crunched up as I was, Sheila had to be very careful there as well, less she nipped off something else I didn't want her to, something Jim also liked to play with on a regular basis. It was terrifying not to be able to see her actions, that alone I think amplifying my paranoia. I felt her cut through the center between the cups, and then each shoulder strap, the ruined garment easily pulled from under my body and I left naked and helpless before my captor.
"I haven't even drawn any blood... yet" Sheila observed playfully. "I think you should thank me properly for that, don't you?" she asked reasonably.
"What did you have in mind, Sheila?" I asked warily.
"'What did you have in mind ma'am? I want to hear you say it like that, like my maid would, assuming of course that I had one of my own," Sheila added with a laugh, as if she knew some fantastic joke that I didn't yet. She was looking down into my eyes from ‘my’ side of the massive headboard contraption, her positioning over me more than mere symbolism. At that moment that woman owned me, she obviously knew it, but I didn't yet.
"What did you have in mind... Sheila ma'am?" I asked in exhausted fashion, but my tone gave me away.
Sheila in an instant had smacked my defenseless cheek with her open hand as her condescending smile never faded, not hard, but the indignity of having her do so got my attention.
"I don't like your cheeky tone, such a waste for such a pretty mouth! Try it again," Sheila advised, as I foolishly glared back into her eyes, "after I make myself a cup of tea and allow you to ponder your situation just a little bit..."
"THIS should help you to focus that troubled little mind of yours while I'm gone," Sheila added, placing the shears again with their cold, closed blades covering my womanhood, propped up with their handles on the bed, keeping them in place if I didn't move about too much.
I then heard her cell phone's camera shutter sound, I wondered what she intended to do with that...
"They had better be in exactly that same position when I get back..." Sheila threatened.
It felt like forever, but my captor came back into the room all smiles, still in her bra, panties, and heels, as if she owned the place. I then reminded myself that she in fact did, at least until closing. She was carrying her tea cup, the tea steaming as I watched her noisily sip it with fascination, the tag for the teabag clearly visible. It looked too hot to drink, and I think Sheila had come to the same conclusion herself.
I watched her remove the bag from her cup by it's tag, I ordinarily putting such on the saucer so as not to make a mess someplace myself, but she didn't have a saucer with her. I was then caught thinking that stunning and sophisticated Sheila had really just shown me that she's not all that "put together" herself, that she has flaws just like the rest of us. She was still smiling though, surely if she had screwed something simple like this up she should be anything BUT happy with herself, and smiling.
I watched with morbid fascination as Sheila put her cup down, still holding her tea bag by it's tag in her two left fingers, her free right hand then spreading the second and third toes on my right foot forcefully. She then slowly dragged the hot bag from my heel to my arch on my naked and trapped right foot, I on instinct clutching my foot as if trying to make a fist with it, but Sheila was holding my toes fast in her strong hand. The string for the bag was then placed between my spread digits, with the tag hanging down where I could read it's brand, if I wanted to.
I stared up at Sheila silently as I felt the dripping tea migrate around my foot, but didn't say a word, she knew it was hot, but not so hot as to do any real harm to me.
"Don't you dare drop that," she warned, "or I'll stuff that thing inside you and leave it there all afternoon with the tag hanging out like a tampon."
"Yes ma'am," I kowtowed, Sheila breaking me with little effort, and one little tea bag. She took another picture with her phone to memorialize the event, this one including my face I'm sure, and of course my right foot.
"I'm tense. Are you tense?" Sheila asked, I knew there was no good way to answer her, but I also knew I had to say something.
"I don't know how I feel right now... ma'am," I choose honesty over any potential second punishment for a bad attitude.
"I'll make it even simpler for you then, pain or pleasure?" And as if to give me some hint as to where she was going in this line of reasoning, she once again walked around to where I couldn't see and removed the shears from their temporary resting place on my womanhood.
"Definitely pleasure, ma'am."
"Good, because I prefer that myself," Sheila then stepped out of her panties, and stripping off her bra, she hung both on my free left foot as if it was nothing but a convenient hanger for her purposes.
"Do I also need to tell you not to drop those as well?"
"No ma'am," I answered, looking up at my now naked captor, her body flawless, firm, and magnificent. She then told me to cup my right hand where it also stuck through the stock like headboard, she placed her hot tea cup into it, but I was as powerless to stop this as I had been for her other creative repurposing uses of my trapped appendages. I felt like human furniture, or perhaps a coat rack or closet hanger, I have since learned that this was called objectification.
Sheila bent down and gave me an inverted kiss, her nose near my chin, and mine at hers, necessary with the trapped positioning of my head. It was sensual and sweet, I’d not been with another woman since college, and that had been more of a drunken playful dare that had gotten out of hand, rather than intentionally making love to her.
She then took her cup from my hand and sipped her tea, replacing it, she again kissed me, but this time she shared some of her tea with me from her mouth, allowing the warm liquid to dribble into my own. I had never done something like this before, with man, or woman, and rather than disgust me, I found it over the top erotic.
"More please?" I asked, my tone not hiding the effect stunning Sheila's domination was having on me.
Sheila then shared some more of her tea with me, I left wanting nothing more than to serve her as only a woman can serve another, although in this case any mutual reciprocation seemed all but impossible. I remarked in my mind at how quickly I had gone from a prisoner, to a willing slave, there being something about being in the presence of Sheila that made this seem almost natural.
"Now my pretty little maid, why don't you show me what else that pretty little mouth of yours can do?" Sheila asked rhetorically.
I found myself "wanting" to do this for her long before she had asked, it seemed fitting and proper for me to do so, to be of service to her in this manner as well. Instead of straddling my face as I had expected though, she instead offered me one of her magnificent breasts, I nursed the offered nipple as if I were a starving babe, and only releasing my ‘hold’ on it when the other was then offered. Sheila made an "MMMMM" sound several times, telling me I had done well by her, but I had an advantage here as I knew what I liked done to mine.
Was this a test before I was allowed the grand prize? She perhaps wanted to see if I were truly that much under her spell, or just something she liked herself as foreplay before the main event?
No matter the exact reason, I had apparently passed the test, Sheila swinging a leg over my face as if she were mounting a stationary bicycle at the gym for an exercise session. I tasted her slowly, Sheila already juicy, and simply delicious, she clearly was not faking her excitement at having me thus trapped in her gifted bed contraption in the least. I felt her being careful with me, just as I was careful not to hurt her myself. If she forgot herself and ground down hard on my face she could possibly break my neck with the way I was trapped, but I now trusted Sheila to get me through this experience mostly unharmed, and perhaps even educated just a little bit in the process.
I felt her get almost "there" quite quickly, but I wanted this moment to last, and as she had alluded to earlier, we had almost all day for this. I moved my attention to her other less frequented erogenous zones, Sheila repositioning her body to encourage the building orgasm she had obviously wanted instead. I was toying with her, a pretty good trick with a first time lover without the use of my hands, but her and I had the exact same hardware, although how she was specifically "wired" was still something to be learned.
I then felt her reach over and bite the big toe on my right foot, not hard, but playfully. She kept it in her mouth and sucked on it, I groaned from under her in muffled fashion and letting her know she had found something of a "switch" wired into my own body.
"If you take good care of me my maid, I'll take good care of you afterwards," Sheila offered. She didn't have to, she could use me however she liked until the proverbial cows came home, and I would have happily gone along with all of it. Serving this powerful woman seemed natural to me, once in her actual presence.
More teasing on my part followed, Sheila really making a mess of my face with her flowing sweet juices, I even rolling my head back and touching off on her puckered back passage, this quite taboo, and something I just wouldn't ordinarily do.
"Oooohhhh, you nasty bitch!" I heard her say, but the way she did it told me it was anything but unwelcome.
This was getting fun, this being trapped and helpless releasing me to really let go with Sheila, a woman I had never seen in a sexual light for myself a single time. I had envied her magnificent body from afar, but not in such a way that I ever thought I would be pleasuring it myself. To think at one time not all that long ago that I was actually angry with her for her treatment of Jim, and now that I had another point of view on that, things seemed not quite so crystal clear to me anymore.
When Jim first bound me with his belt it had been a similar fun and helpless thing, but he had yet to offer a repeat and to be honest the ‘ordinary’ sex we were having was just wonderful all by itself. Was it for him though? I asked myself critically, or did Jim need these kinds of things to keep him interested in the long term?
The irony of both Jim and Sheila being my lovers was not lost on me either, nor was the flirting thought that Sheila may have wanted to steal me away from Jim herself, as in the ultimate game of human chess between chess masters, and I the final checkmate from her.
Sheila brought me out of my daydreams about chess and domination by removing one of the leather straps about my ankle, she then tossing it lazily over the headboard and it landing between my splayed legs as it pretty much had to with the wide "V" shape they now made. I "felt" rather than saw this, as I also noticed Sheila's disengagement from my toe, her focus on something else now.
"Make mine sing, or I'll make yours sting" Sheila warned poetically, she dragging the wide leather strap up through the exposed center part of my body as she spoke. Calling her bluff I continued to tease and not deliver, although goading Sheila into taking that long strap to me in such an exposed position was not well thought out. I didn't know what exactly I wanted to happen though, I was just enjoying the temporary power I had over this magnificent body riding my own.
Just as with the shears, Sheila didn't want to really hurt me, just give me the illusion that she could, or even might if I really misbehaved for her. In keeping with this she gently swung the strap this time, but off center from her stated target, striking me on my upper thigh and ass instead. I flinched in response and spilled some tea from her half empty teacup that I was still holding, her solution for that was to drain the cup completely as it had cooled by that point, she then placed the cup on the floor so it wouldn't get broken.
I then made little circles around her button as I felt her strong thighs twitch and crush in on me, telling her I well knew HOW to make her cum, but withdrawing again and going deep because I didn't want to yet. She then swung at my other thigh, not quite so gently as the first, this one making me yelp, although the sound was comically muffled for obvious reasons. Now this was a game, how much could I take before she MADE me bring her off?
She alternated her blows left and right as I yelped and twitched, her juices really flowing now and telling me she was getting off on this torment. She then playfully swung dead center of my splayed legs, not hard, but the wide leather strap nonetheless made contact with my womanhood directly, the tail of her improvised whip smacking me on my own rosebud, but gently. It didn't necessarily hurt, but I knew it could be made to, if Sheila had wanted.
With strength and flexibility I didn't know I had, I then crunched my stomach muscles on reflex while at the same time trying to bend my trapped legs at the knee, the massive bed creaking in response, but not releasing it's hold on my trapped appendages. This placed my ass much closer to Sheila though, almost within her hand's reach, but also well within her striking distance with her leather strap. My shoulders were about the only thing left on the bed at that point...
Sheila took advantage of this new position, swinging her strap rather forcefully and letting it snake around to my mid back, the crack it made when it contacted flesh both heard and felt. That one hurt, but I was so turned on that my body's responses were confused, a groan escaping my busy lips, instead of a torturous scream had this been any other situation.
"Finish it!" Sheila commanded tersely, "unless you want me to beat you raw?"
A good part of me wanted to see where this "pain" could take me, this being something new for me, "but perhaps not today," I thought. I circled Sheila's clit with my probing tongue and sucked it in like I was giving hubby head, one of those rare times that I actually had back in the day. It grew where I tormented it and I felt her legs twitch in response still again, but this time I didn't back off. I continued the assault on her most intimate parts as she once again took to sucking and biting on my big toe, her twitches nearly crushing my skull and reminding me of her physical power, it surely well in excess of my own. Sheila rode my face to what was an epic orgasm of her own, sweat mixing in with her other bodily juices and making both of us slick where our skin touched.
When she was finally finished with me she dismounted and gave me another kiss, I was an utter mess from her secretions, but she didn't seem to mind such in the least.
"Well done my sexy little maid," Sheila complimented exhaustedly.
"Why do you keep calling me your 'maid' ma'am?" I asked respectfully, surely I had bought some leniency with all I had just provided her with.
"All in good time dear, but first a story: I have an aunt, she's not doing all that well these days, and Jim is her absolute favorite. So much so that she doesn't know that we're not together any longer. Telling her would break her heart, and I just can't do that, especially now. So, Jimmy told me that not only did he have a maid that I could borrow for her upcoming visit to my new place, he even agreed to pretend with me that we're still together for this visit of hers too, it's only a few days."
"I don't know how he convinced you to play maid for me, and just know that I and my guests at this little party in her honor will HAVE to treat you like the hired help while my aunt is about, but sufficient to say that this little sacrifice of yours is appreciated, so much so that I'm willing to overlook your stealing my husband from me, at least for now."
The look on my face said it all, but I recovered quickly. "How about two maids instead?"