40 photos
"Get moving! You say that you’re tired of vanilla. Fine! I’ll give you something that sure isn’t vanilla."
I had no idea what had come over my sweetie pie. For years we had been a happy couple, but then Roger decided that he wanted to ‘spice things up’, ‘try something different’. I had reluctantly agreed. I was perfectly content with the status quo, but I didn’t want my yummy Roger straying, looking for excitement elsewhere. So I had used a few of my old neckties and tied him up. That had seemed to satisfy him for a while, but then he had wanted more and more. I adamantly refused – I had no desire to participate in the perverted activities that seemed to inflame Roger. I expected my honey bunny to respect my wishes – we had a good life together. Or so I had thought. But then Roger began to spend more and more time away from home. He claimed to be working overtime, on special projects, but I had my suspicions. Suspicions which were confirmed when I lowered myself so far as to rifle through his drawers. The things that I found horrified me – ropes, chains, ball gags and other objects that I was unable to identify. This was very, very bad. I had to do something to convince my Roger of the error of his ways. After much thought, I decided what to do. I would give him so much of what he wanted, he would become disgusted, and turn back into my honey bunny. I purchased a book on the tying of knots, and studied it from cover to cover. Then I bided my time, waiting for an appropriate time for Roger’s therapy.
He came from work on Friday night, and was Mr. Grumpy as usual. He brusquely announced that he was going out, and he didn’t know what time he would be home. Ho ho, I thought to myself, I don’t think you’re going anywhere, Roger. This would be the perfect time. I didn’t think it would take me an entire weekend to break Roger down, but I always believed in erring on the side of caution. I hovered in our bedroom, while Roger showered. When he came out of the bathroom, drying his hair, I pounced. While Roger had been "working" so late, I had been spending time at the gym. I took him by surprise, and had him on the floor in seconds. I took one of the pieces of rope from his stash, and with my knee in the small of his back, I pulled his arms behind and tied his hands together. "Phil, what the hell are you…MMPPHHH!!!!" I had to shut my sweety up, so I took a ball-gag that I had found with his other paraphernalia, and shoved it into his mouth. I pulled hard on the strap as hard as I could, and then buckled it. I hated doing this, but I had to save Roger. As he struggled beneath me, I wrapped more rope around his chest and his firm upper arms. Mmm, it was interesting to see how the rope framed his pecs, once I had dragged him to his feet. I pushed him towards the stairs. Dear Roger was going to be spending some time in the cellar!
"GGGMMMWHATMHELLMMDOING? GGMSHTOPMIT!"
"Lovey, I’m doing this for your own good. One day you’ll thank me."
As I manhandled him down the stairs, I became aware of a bulge in my trousers. I put it down to having my honey bunny in my arms once more. One hand slipped down Roger’s sweaty stomach. WHOWZERS! I hadn’t seen or felt anything like that on him for a long, long time. It just proved to me the importance of curing him of his obsession. Once he was cured, it would be like old times, and he would greet me with one of those every morning. I licked my lips in anticipation. But it was crucial that I continue Roger’s therapy. Once I had him in the cellar, I hopped up onto a stool that I had placed conveniently below an exposed pipe. I couldn’t have him running around, and I was sure that the humiliation and discomfort of being XXXX to hang around for a few hours would help him to recover. I yanked his hands up until they were resting in the small of his back, and then attached the loose end of the rope to the pipe. It broke my heart to leave him down there, in the dark, with all the nasty insects that liked to roam around in the cellar, but it was necessary. I took one last look at him before I turned out the lights. He was cursing away under that ball gag, and his cock was still as hard as an iron bar. Well, we would see about that. After a few hours down there, he would be singing a different tune.
I settled down on the couch, with a good book, but I couldn’t concentrate on the newest Crombie. My mind kept on going back to how my honey had looked, hanging from the ceiling, with that monstrous boner sticking out. I found myself rubbing my own crotch. No, no, this was wrong. I was NOT going to get excited at the thought of Roger in that nasty position. I MUST focus, and read the book. The hours passed so slowly. I had to keep on checking my watch to make sure that it hadn’t stopped. Finally, it was time. I would see how the cure was progressing.
"GGGMMMPHILIPLEMMEGOMRIGHTMNOW!!"
Oh dear, the cure didn’t seem to be taking at all. Roger was still sporting a monstrous erection. I hadn’t expected miracles, but…..this was not an encouraging sign. I would have to proceed to the second part of my plan. A change of position was necessary.
As I undid the rope around his chest, I warned him. "Now Roger, don’t you fight me. I’m doing this for us, my pet. " He didn’t listen to me, and we had a brief tussle, which of course I won. The poor lad was a bit stiff from hanging around all evening, and my training at the gym was really paying off. Once I had his hands tied in front of him, I hopped onto the handy stool, and once more attached the end of the rope to the pipe. I was sweaty from my exertions, and strangely aroused. Roger muttered and moaned, saliva dripping from his chin, but he still had that damn erection. I was tempted to do something about it, but realized that it might undo any good that I had managed to achieve. I sighed as I trudged up the stairs again. I didn’t turn back for a final look this time – I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to resist temptation.
I paced the floor, practically wearing a hole in the tasteful Bokhara in the den. I imagined the torments my poor, unfaithful sweetheart must be suffering right now. How long would it take for him to learn the error of his ways? I couldn’t take this much longer. I needed a drink. I grabbed my bottle of the MacAllan and splashed a generous measure into a glass. That was a bit better. I was tempted to have another one, but it didn’t seem wise to drink too much while my darling was dangling from the pipe in the cellar. I really needed a clear head for the task ahead of me. The seconds seemed like hours, but at last it was time to check on Roger. I was praying that he would be XXXX-dicked and contrite, ready to repent of his wicked ways and return to my loving arms. Alas, it wasn’t to be. When I turned on the light, there he was, still sporting that erection. It was time for drastic measures.
"Roger, this is going to hurt me as much as it hurts you. I hate to do this, but…I have to cure you! You know that I’m only doing this because, I love you, don’t you?"
His eyes followed me as I picked up one of the loose weights stacked up under the stairs. I attached one of the weights to a curious contraption that I had found in his drawer , and then walked over to him.
"GGMMYETHYETH!MMERR…NOOOONOOOO!"
I gingerly attached the hideous thing to Roger’s balls, and then let it drop. I cringed at the sight of his poor balls being distended by all the weight and waited for him to scream out for mercy. At the least I expected him his cock to deflate. It did deflate, but not in the manner that I had expected. He did scream through his gag, as his eyes rolled up in his head. But he it didn’t sound like a scream of agony. Instead, muffled as it was, it sounded like the sounds that he had once made with me, as we rolled around in our bed, in the throes of passion. And then he spurted, jet after jet of cum spraying through the air, landing on the floor. I was really ticked off now. This was NOT what I had expected. Something was awry here. I growled and stormed up the stairs in a fury. I sucked down a few more ounces of Scotch, and reconsidered my plan. Okay, it hadn’t turned out exactly as I had planned, but I still had time to work him. Even if it took all weekend, I was going to cure my honey bunny. I stumbled towards the stairs. I was going to teach that bastard a lesson he wasn’t going to forget. I stopped dead in my tracks, aghast at the thoughts that were passing through my mind. How could I be thinking of my Roger in such a way? Then anger surged through my veins once more. I had let him trample all over me, like I was a doormat. Not any more!
"OK, buster. I’ve had enough of being Mr. Nice Guy. I’m going to cure you if it’s the last thing I do."
"GGMMFUCKMMUPHILIP. MMMCANMMGOMTOMHELL!"
I jumped on to the stool, shaking with rage. I loosened the rope until there was a lot of slack, and then retied the end. I hopped off the stool, and tossed it across the room, rejoicing as it smashed against the wall. I grabbed Roger by the shoulders, and XXXX him down until he was on his knees. He grunted as they slammed into the concrete floor. Good, I hope that hurt the two-timing, cheating son-of-a-bitch. I would teach him to screw around with me. He wanted it rough, well he was going to get it rough. Once I was finished with him, he would turn faint whenever he saw a piece of rope. The dickhead wouldn’t even be able to tie his own shoes, once his therapy was done with. The sight of a knot would make him puke. I tied his thighs to his calves, pulling the rope as I tight as I could.
Fuck, he was hard again! I was going to fix that. I picked up another piece of rope and tied one end around his cock and balls. I walked across the room and pulled that rope as taut as I could, before I tied it around the newel post. I looked at him kneeling there, on his knees, his arms stretched over his head, his cock and balls pulled away from his body by the rope. I would leave the fucker there, stewing in his own juices, until he was cured. I pounded up the stairs, my heart pumping and my cock as hard as a rock. It would serve the bugger right if I pulled out my cock and….no, I wasn’t going to think like that. I needed another drink. Or two, or three, or more.
Mmmm, Roger thought, as the door slammed behind Philip. I hope he passes out up there, and leaves me here all night. My plan has worked to perfection. I wonder what else I can do to piss him off? I haven’t had this much fun in ages.
THE END
Roger played by Troy
Photography by Caitiff
Date of Production: 12/02/2003