My wife is generally pretty prim and proper. She has a great high-paying job. She has numerous friends, loves to work out, and competes in tri-athlons. What very few people know is: she is also my bondage slave. Recently, it was time once again to attend a gala my company puts on every year. Now since we have been to about 25 of these, I decided that this time we should spruce the evening up a bit.
The night of the event, my wife looked ravishing in a formal black cocktail dress, hair done up, and made up like a Hollywood starlet. No pantie lines either, which made her a bit shy. Off to the Hilton we went, and although there were numerous beautiful women there: trophy wives, plastic-surgery enhanced lovelies, and nubile young lookers, I thought my wife showed quite well. The gala was fun, albeit a bit long, and the after-party rocked! Lots of champagne, dancing, and laughter. We called it quits about 2:00 am and asked the valet to bring the car around.
As we drove off from the hotel, I pulled a bag from the back seat and told my slave to put on everything that was in the bag. My wife/slave looked into the bag and said, "It's going to be one of those evenings, isn't it"? With that, she put on the leather wrist and ankle restraints, the collar, and the g-string panties that were in the bag. She was silent and still, and I could tell that she was going into slave mode.
We arrived at our destination, which was a small warehouse in a safe part of our city where lots of technology companies have offices, manufacturing facilities and keep inventory. When we got out of the car, I removed my wife's dress and handed her a beautiful half-face venetian masquerade mask which left only her lovely mouth exposed, and a Cleopatra headpiece which she put on. I then put a snaphook on the wrist restraints such that her hands were locked behind her back, and we entered via a side door. Everyone turned to see this lovely woman dressed only in a g-string, restraints, and with a Carnival mask on, and I heard numerous whispers asking "now who is that woman?" since her face was hidden. I, of course, still had on my tuxedo, and had also put on a mardi-gras mask to hide my identity.
I had arranged for some of my BDSM friends to have a little party at this particular warehouse on this particular night, and had told them to bring some friends as I generally keep this little salacious aspect of our lifestyle secret except for a few very close friends and neighbors. There were 20 people at the party, and they had clearly been enjoying the food and liquor I had bought for them, and the party was in full swing. There was bondage furniture everywhere, including benches, tables, stocks, and a variety of whips, clamps, floggers and nipple-teasers.
After securing a cocktail, I asked for some classical music to be put on the sound system, undid the snap hook from my slave's restraints, and led my wife in a stately dance around the room. A gentleman soon tapped me on the shoulder for a turn, and I gratefully went back to my cocktail and began chatting with several people as my wife, clad only in a g-string, waltzed, foxtrotted, and slow danced with several men and women. Although most people kept an eye on my slave, many other couples hit the dance floor as well, and the room was a colorful blur. I believe that I may have even seen my slave do a fandango with a beautiful, well-endowed redhead.
After about a half hour, I gently tugged my slave/wife off of the dance floor towards the bar, and as the bartender was pouring me a new cocktail I smoothly slid the g-string panties off of my wife and deposited them on the empty drink tray. Although I thought my movements were quite subtle, I noticed a certain change in the atmosphere as a sexual hunger seemed to fill the room. The music stopped playing and a man grabbed a microphone and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, we are ready for tonight's main event. There are three teams vying for tonight's trophy, and they will compete in three events: the St. Andrew's Cross tie, the flogger-supreme, and the orgasm-producer. Let's get started!"
I led my slave to a designated spot as the announcer stated, "In this first event, we will see who can get the slave tied up appropriately and completely onto the St. Andrew's Cross in fastest time." With that, the first team of 3 people took there spots, a whistle blew and the team members exploded off of their spots, grabbed my slave/wife and proceeded to bind her tightly to a St. Andrews Cross in a minute and 24 seconds. After she was untied and put back in her original spot, the second team took a turn and got her tied up in a minute and 22 seconds. Again, she was untied and returned to her position, and the third team got her tied up in one minute 18 seconds. However, when the judge went up to check the bindings on my wife, he noticed that she could move one of her hands about 3 inches and declared that team 3 had finished in last place! With that, he leaned over and kissed each of her breasts and ran a fingerup through her now dripping pussy as he declared, "I think you like these bondage Olympics."
With that, it was time for the second event. For this event, the judge painted a one-inch wide by 4-inch long section of skin on each of my slave's breasts and butt-cheeks such that there were four separate markings. My slave was then tied with her arms above her head, and her legs spread wide to posts such that she was fully exposed. The announcer then stated, "Again, this is a timed event. The object is to knock off the paint as fast as possible, but the teams must be accurate as they will be penalized 5 seconds for every whip-mark greater than one-inch from the paint. So they must be both fast and accurate."
The teams began in reverse order, with the 3rd team starting. Apparently there was strategy involved and they believed that the paint on my slave's ass was easier to erase than the markings on her breasts. When the whistle blew, the whip-man began earnestly whipping my slave's ass with a flogger. While she was quite brave for the first 30 seconds or so, it must have hurt and soon she was moving around to avoid the whip and was whimpering a bit. The whip-man was extremely talented, or experienced, or both and had the paint gone in just under 2 minutes with no stray marks at all.
The second team then took its turn, and again chose my slave's other ass-cheek as the target. Team 2's whip-man was soon whaling away, and was not nearly as good with the whip as the 3rd-team's man. My slave was moving around like a palm tree in a hurricane, and whimpering loudly as the whip-man knocked the paint off in about 3 minutes but with lots of stray marks. Then it was time for Team 1, and the tall, buxom redhead that my wife had danced the fandango with was the one wielding the whip. She asked the judge for a ruling, and he allowed her to insert a gag underneath my slave's mask such that her whimpering would be muted tremendously. The redhead announced, "Its much harder to whip titties than an ass, but watch this!"
When the whistle blew, the redhead knocked paint off with incredibly well-placed blows. She seemed to know my wife's every move as the slave dodged the whip, and I realized why the redhead had wanted to dance with my wife earlier- it was to learn how she moved. Within one minute and 30 seconds, all that was left of the paint on my slave's left breast was red markings of exactly one inch by 4 inch, and Team 1 had won the second portion of the competition.
As they untied my wife, the judge again took the microphone as said, "Team 1 has won one event, and Team 2 has won one event. However, because Team 3 has finished second in both events, they can still win the trophy. I want everyone in the crowd to select a team, as perhaps the winning team will allow you to share in the victory." With that, 4 people joined with Team 1, 3 with Team 2, and 4 more with Team 3 such that there were either 6 or 7 individuals cheering for each team.
The announcer then intoned, "Let's proceed with the third and final event. The object in this event is to see which team can hold off having an orgasm the longest while being serviced by this magnificent creature," as he motioned towards my slave/wife. Now conventional wisdom would say of course offer up a woman from the team, as they generally take a little longer to have an orgasm. However, one of the men on Team 2 said, "I've got this. I can hold off all night if necessary" as he removed his clothes and took a spot on a recliner.
My slave/wife knew just what to do, and when the whistle blew she went down on her hands and knees thus exposing her lovely quim, and quickly grabbed his cock and began licking and sucking on it like it was a frozen Popsicle. Within just a few minutes she snaked a hand under his balls and, in a manner I knew all too well, worked a little magic and suddenly the guy exploded with a massive orgasm as his teammates jeered his lack of control. Team 1 then trotted out a pert little blond with a yoga body, and she quickly wiggled out of her clothes. Again, my slave let her tongue do the talking, and with gentle blowing breathes, a darting tasting tongue, and a nibble or two the woman's clitoris had the blond cum in about 6 or 7 minutes. Team 3 then brought out their heroine: a gorgeous brunette with a swimsuit body and cold cold eyes.
The announcer stated, "I have totalled the points, and if she can hold out for 8 minutes and 42 seconds then Team 3 will win the trophy."
The brunette slithered out of her clothes in an incredibly sensuous manner, looked over at me and winked, and took her place on the recliner. My slave/wife went to work with the concentration and focus of a bomb-disposal technician, and used every single trick in her repertoire to get the beautiful brunette to reach an orgasm. I could tell the brunette vixon was getting close to exploding as she dodged my slave's probing tongue, when the announcer said, "Time- its over 8 minutes and 42 seconds" and the brunette exploded with a mighty grunt and the words "O God, O God". And with that, Team 3 had won the trophy!
The announcer told the crowd to refresh their drinks before the awards ceremony, and then had everyone gather around a strange two-tiered wooden block at the front of the warehouse. I led my slave over next to the announcer, and put a snap hook back on her wrist restraints and pinned here hands behind her back, and then put another snap hook on the ankle restraints thus keeping her feet only inches apart. The announcer than blew a horn, and said, "Everyone raise their glass to this magnificent model, and give congrats to Team 3 for a great victory! In a moment, Team's 1 and 2, and all of those individuals who supported them, must leave the warehouse so that Team 3 can enjoy the trophy that they have won fair and square."
I heard a voice ask, "Well what exactly is the trophy"?
The announcer and I stood on either side of my beautiful slave/wife, and we gently lifted her up on the top of the two wooden blocks so that she stood on top of them in all of her naked glory. "Isn't it obvious," the announcer asked, "The bondage slut is obviously the trophy to be enjoyed by Team 3 and its supporters until noon today."
As Team's 1 and 2 and their supporters shuffled out of the warehouse, I noticed that the winners were plotting their strategy for how to spend the next 6 hours, and I saw the gorgeous brunette with the cold cold eyes approach my slave/wife with a leash and a flogger in hand.
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07.07.13