My bench holds me very securely!
I can barely move a muscle. I’m held on my back with my head in a U-shaped cradle that fits very snugly around my ears. So snug the bud earphones I am wearing are so firmly contained in my ears, there is no chance of me displacing them.
My neck is locked in a stock, I cannot lift my head a fraction because a leather strap passes over my forehead and was buckled tightly by my wife as the first part of the preparations for our evening. there are belts around my chest and waist as well. My arms are pulled below and behind me, by cuffs around my elbows once she has the roller buckles on my elbow cuffs tightened to her satisfaction she threads a ten-foot length of 10mm hemp rope through the “D” rings on the cuffs.
The two ends of this rope are then threaded together through an eyebolt fixed into the bottom brace of the bench. Then along the brace where my wife can easily pull my arms back into a stringent uncomfortable position and tie both of the rope ends off on a boat cleat.
She secured my hands in fist mitts, these had snap connectors mounted on the bench frame. She then adjusted the tension on the rope that held my elbows pulling them back and downwards until everything tightened up until there was no possibility of any arm movement at all.
There are two vertical arms on my bench with permanently fixed ankle cuffs at the top. Each leg was lifted in turn and the cuffs buckled tight around my ankles. These arms are two feet long and form a “vee” when my ankles are secured my knees are bent at ninety degrees My knees are then cuffed and roped back to two more boat cleats welded to the bench framework. The final part of my immobilisation is completed by placing a small cuff around each big toe and then a strap sewn and riveted to it is fastened onto a buckle on the ankle cuffs, pulled tight and I can’t move my ankles much at all.
At this point she inserts a butplug which has gradually increased in size over the three years, this new one is inflated once it is inside me.
When I am secured to my wife’s satisfaction she reads out the reckoning of my infractions for the week. These are all news to me, I am never told beforehand. They may be failing to open the car door for her. Or maybe not ironing her knickers to her satisfaction.
Woe betide me if I have scorched her underwear or laddered a pair of her silk stockings. Then before she leaves me to go and dress for her night out on the town, she removes my chastity tube and gives me the very few strokes I need to get hard.
I have been wearing the tube for nearly three years and in that time I have had three proper orgasms on my birthday. I don’t even get one for Christmas.
My wife will sometimes, in the morning milk my prostate to keep me healthy. There is no enjoyment at all in this for me, my wife enjoys it immensely. It isn’t a ruined orgasm, it’s a prostate milking.
She inserts my flaccid cock into a cloth tube filled with crushed ice. She sticks a finger into my arse and manipulates my prostate gland. It seldom takes long as this will only happen about once every two months so when she decides the time is right I am ready to have my cum harvested.
As I said there is no enjoyment, it feels like I am pissing myself. On these occasions, she meticulously collects it and sets it apart.
She will come into my quiet room as she calls it before she goes out. She comes to show me what I’m missing these days. She will be dressed in her expensive underwear wearing a pair of fuck me stilettoes and stockings.
Maybe a silk kicker bra and suspender belt set or maybe a corset. Whatever it is I will be required to get her in the right mood by sending her off to meet her lover with an orgasm or two.
Before that, though if I have lost the erection she gave me, as I all the time have by this time. She will put my cock into a viciously spiked device.
It fits tight behind my glands six spikes sticking into the sensitive area there. This is not a toy, it is an evil bastard device. It is removed easily, just by pressing a tiny lever but if your hands are held rigidly behind your back like mine I must suffer it
She fits a similarly spiked hinged tube behind it. Again it does not lock it fastens in a similar way to the ring. As my arms will remain securely fastened behind me for the next twelve hours minimum I am in no position to remove either
She then pushes a six-inch penis plug into my urethra. That has a chain attached with a tiny dog clip on the end. The dog clip is threaded through my reverse Albert piercing and clipped onto a fixed ring on the tube.
Even if I were to get so soft the spikes were to release their grip on my cock it can’t fall off. It is crucial to my wife that I know only she can release me from my torment.
There is no hope at all of getting any relief while I am engaged in serving her orally which at this stage I am now required to do.
My reward for bringing my wife to climax two or three times will be my weekly caning. This is supposed to depend on the reckoning, it doesn’t, it depends on what my wife wants to dish out.
Whatever it is, in the three years we have been following this regime it has never been less than 50 strokes that I can remember. The strokes are divided equally between my arse and the soles of my upturned feet.
My wife found out about bastinado on the porn hub channel of one of the pro-domes she follows for ideas. I truly wish she hadn’t. The pain is as close to unbearable as I want to get to. It stays with me for three days after I am in pain just getting up to make myself a coffee.
When she has finished dressing and her makeup and is ready to leave me for the night she switches on the TV screen mounted on the ceiling above my head. Then she fits my gag and mask. The mask is more often than not the pair of knickers she has been wearing today, ripe with her scent and still damp.
The gag is just to highlight my sense of isolation, it’s not needed, the room is soundproofed. While she is out, fem-dom porn is played on the TV screen unless she sends a film clip. That is usually her giving one of her lovers a blow job. Or even the two of them having a quick fuck in my car.
Sometime between midnight and three in the morning, she returns home. I pray she brings a lover with her. If she does not I am very likely to be beaten until she cums. Usually, she returns with a lover though, sometimes two.
She is a very attractive woman and can usually pull. At this point, she changes the source signal for the TV I have been forced to watch.
I am forced to watch it. The film clips are interspaced with photos of her. If I can’t tell her the colour of her knickers, or what nipple jewellery she is wearing in a given pose I am in the shit! I will have strokes added to my reckoning for next Friday night.
She switches the signal from the porn clips I am watching to the hidden cameras in her bedroom. There will be questions about that as well.
The door to my room is in her ensuite bathroom. Usually, if she thinks my presence will freak her lover out she will make an excuse that she needs to use the bathroom. Then, she will lock the bathroom door, come through to my room, and my gag is removed and I am put to use. She uses my tongue and mouth to clean her out. Again, woe beside me if I spill a drop.
Occasionally if her lover is a bit of an athlete I get two or three helpings. One night she brought three black guys home. She lost control of that and I don’t think it will happen again.
Some of the guys that know her, know about me as well. One of these guys is allowed in my room and has witnessed me cleaning his cum from my wife’s pussy.
Why do I put up with this you may ask? It was all my idea in the first place. I made the bench, I bought my wife a saddle makers sewing machine and a leather riveting machine. I bought and fixed the flat screen TV above my bench and installed the secret cameras in the bedroom. I bought my chastity tube through the spiked tube and cock collar was her idea of a Christmas present for me.
I wouldn’t swap positions with anyone.