Unexpected circumstances.

Unexpected circumstances.

I don’t really know why I did it. I still don’t. Boredom I guess. I hadn’t used the Hotmail account I’d set up years earlier for as long as I could remember. Fully expecting it to have been closed, I navigated to the website and typed in my username and what I thought was the password I’d selected at the time of creating the account. To my surprise, the account hadn’t been closed, just suspended due to inactivity. As I watched the list of e-mails populate on the screen, all four hundred and seventy nine of them, I sighed, and again wondered just why I was digging up the past, a past I thought I’d long ago put to sleep.

A brief scan of the titles revealed advertisements for Cialis, Viagra, fake Rolex watches and I sighed again then consigned the multitude of spam to the trash folder. I was about to close the page until I saw the e-mail from him. My eyes widened like saucers and I swear my heart skipped a beat, perhaps more. I was face to face with the reality of my past that for some reason known only in my subconscious I had decided to revisit. Nervously I guided the mouse pointer over the message and hovered it there for what seemed an eternity before I finally clicked on it and opened the message.

Greetings Monica,

I know you haven’t used this account in a long time. So if you actually read this message, please do me the courtesy of replying to it.. I’m sure you’ve moved on with your life, found yourself a nice man married and started a family. I was thinking about you tonight, about the times we shared, good and bad, and just thought I’d drop you a line to say hello.

Sir.

PS: I have a new cell phone number, 0464 355422. As always, feel free to call me day or night about anything at all.

I couldn’t believe my eyes and simply stared at the screen trying to digest what I’d just read. The memories came flooding back to me like it was yesterday when I’d last seen him. Unconsciously my hand went to the hem of my skirt, flipped it up, then slipped between my legs. The caress of my fingernails over the smooth flesh above the tops of my stockings made me shiver. My upper teeth trapped my lower lip and I somehow stifled a moan as those fingers found my crotch, devoid of underwear, and nearly devoid of hair save for the narrow neatly trimmed strip an inch wide directly above my cunt.

I remember wondering why I was without panties and checked the date at the bottom of the computer. September 23. An odd numbered day in the month. A panty free day, just as it had been two days earlier, and two days before that. Then it hit me, six years earlier, he had instructed me that I wasn’t to wear panties on the odd numbered days of the month and that I still follow that instruction now. It also hit me that the landing strip decorating my mons was his idea as well. I’d never bothered or, for that matter, even thought to present myself in any other manner since his declaration.

I parted my legs and slid my fingers down over the soft tuft of brunette hair until my fingertips trailed along my labia. Shock again hit me, when I discovered my own dampness. Again I had to bite my lip to stifle a moan, then I suddenly plunged a finger into my cunt, just as I’d done so many times so many years before when an e-mail he’d sent me during the day had ordered me to masturbate at my desk. For some reason I wasn’t surprised when my digit was trapped inside my warm wet tunnel. I knew it was because of the e-mail, because of the fires rekindled by seeing it. I slipped another finger in and started to fuck myself with both digits, just as I’d done for him years earlier. I started to lose myself in my memories of him, of how he’d been both a perfect gentleman when we were together in public, yet had also been a skilled rope master and sensual sadist in private.

During my delirium of that masterful man, old enough to be my father, the intercom on my desk buzzed. “Monica, could you come in here please. I have a report that needs typing up by the end of the day.” It was Mr. Henderson, my boss, and he was daring to interrupt both my fantasies and my masturbation! “Err, yes sir. Right away.” I replied then checked my appearance in the mirror of my compact, smoothed down my skirt, and headed into the boss’ office. Needless to say, it took all my will power and powers of concentration to type up the report Mr. Henderson wanted done, particularly with my mind elsewhere.

I managed to remain virtuous, with a lot of difficulty for the remaining forty five minutes of the work day after finishing the report. When I left the office, I was tempted to leave my car in the car park and head home as a commuter on public transport. I knew some male would give up their seat to me, they always did whenever I travelled that way. My better judgement grabbed hold of me and shook me back into reality and reminded me that I had a family to head home to, that I wasn’t nineteen, unattached and able to flirt with every male in sight any more.  With a heavy sigh, I climbed into my car and gunned it into life then headed home through the late afternoon traffic.

When I got home it was just after six and my husband’s car wasn’t in the driveway. I raised an eyebrow for a moment but didn’t give it a second thought and headed up the porch towards the front door. After entering the house I dropped my purse on the hallway table as I did every night, then headed into the kitchen. After getting myself a glass of juice from the fridge I sat down at the table and allowed myself a few moments of private time while I sipped the juice. It was during that time when I saw the note on the table.

“Taken the boys camping honey. Be home around 4 Monday afternoon.

Love, Andy.

I sat in the chair stunned. I’d completely forgotten that my husband was taking the twins away for the weekend camping. Normally when Andrew takes the boys camping I arrange to do something with my girlfriends. This time however, having completely forgotten about their male bonding trip, I hadn’t made any plans. Then it hit me! I was alone, not expected to meet anyone or be anywhere for the next three days. I’d received an unexpected e-mail earlier in the afternoon which had brought back memories of another man, and also led to me masturbating in the office as I had done for him years before. This, I smirked to myself, was going to be a perfect weekend!

I raced upstairs to our bedroom and yanked the doors of the walk in closet open then frantically started searching through the stack of boxes up on the top shelf.  A brilliant smile filled my face as I finally found the box I was looking for and hauled it down off the shelf. I sat on the floor of the walk in closet and pulled the contents out slowly. I opened the long thin box first and then drew back the tissue paper and gasped as I remembered the night he’d given me the black opera length gloves I now stared at. I then opened another box, flat about a foot square and grinned when I saw the black spandex hood inside it while my hand once again found its way under my skirt and between my thighs.

I sifted through the remains of the contents of the box, setting aside the ball gag he’d given me which also brought back a special reminder of him just as I once again slide my fingers into my still wet pussy. Finally I opened the folder at the bottom of the box and grinned as I started reading the printed out e-mails from my pre marital days. I was about half way through the fourth print out when my curiosity got the better of me and I looked into the box once again. A grin crossed my face this time as I spied the butt plug. I remembered confessing to him how I fantasised about having something in my ass while I was being fucked. The butt plug was the result of that confession, given to me at our next meeting.

I took the plug from the box and slowly ran my fingers up and down its flared length then lowered it and pushed it inside my sopping cunt. After fucking myself with the plug for about a minute, I pushed up onto my knees and spread my legs, then leaned forward until my face was on the carpet. I reached between my legs and placed the glistening tip of the butt plug against my tight ass then slowly twisted and pushed on the end of it until it forced its way past my sphincter and sealed itself deep in my rectum.

At that moment in time, I was quite relieved I was home alone because I’m sure that even from upstairs in my walk in closet, Andrew and the boys would have been able to hear the groan I let out from anywhere in the house. I hadn’t had anything in my ass since the night Sir had fucked me there and having the plug in there now was making me hornier than I’d been ever since reading his e-mail earlier in the afternoon.

I gathered the gloves, ball gag and hood from the floor of the walk in closet and ran to the bed, then ripped open the top drawer of my bedside table. Right where they had lain for the last six months were the handcuffs Andrew occasionally used on me. Alongside them was one of my dildos. I snatched them from the drawer and hurriedly jammed the dildo into my dripping slit. I drew the gloves hurriedly up my arms then just as quickly pulled the hood over my head so that only my painted lips were visible through the mouth hole.

The ball gag was next. I buckled it tightly into my mouth, stretching my jaw open as far as I could and trapping the firm red rubber sphere behind my teeth, just as sir had done the night he gave me the silencer. Now gagged, hooded and filled with a dildo and butt plug, I threw myself onto my back on the bed and snapped the handcuffs around my wrists. I closed my eyes and started thinking back to the wonderful nights in bondage I’d spent with Sir then clutched the end of the dildo and rammed it as hard, fast and deep into my gooey gash as I could.

Shamelessly I raped myself with that fake cock until I screamed with orgasmic ecstasy, fantasising about Sir fucking me in bondage over and over again. Finally after an hour of abusing my pussy with the dildo, and four knee trembling orgasms, I collapsed on the bed, my bosom heaving, my head swimming with thoughts of him and with a contented gagged smile on my face. I ran my gloved fingers slowly up and down the front of my stockinged thighs as I clenched them together. I moaned deeply behind the gag at the thought of my cunt and ass still being filled with the intruders that had just delivered the best fucking I’d had in a long time.

How long I lay on the bed savouring the wondrous multiple orgasms I’d just experienced I don’t know. All I knew was, I didn’t want the feeling to end. I groaned as I finally lifted my hands above and behind my head, then loosened the buckle on the straps of the gag that had served so well to stifle my screams of carnal pleasure. I spat the gag out and let it fall to the hollow of my throat then pulled the hood from my face and moves to look at myself in the mirror.

I looked a mess. A radiant just fucked mess! My skirt was hiked up around my hips, my inner thighs above the tops of my stockings were slick with my girl cum and I could see the end of the dildo protruding from my recently fucked cunt. Yes, I was a mess. A just fucked wanton bondage slut mess. And I loved it! I walked back to my side of the bed and opened the bedside drawers then reached inside and withdrew a short legged black panty girdle, another gift from Sir that I’d long since stopped wearing, but which somehow seemed appropriate right now.

I stepped into it and began to draw it up my legs, then stopped and shook my head. “Naughty, naughty Monica. You know what Sir would make you do right now.” I chastised myself, then reached up and repositioned the ball gag in my mouth and buckled the straps securely. Regagged, I bent forward and somehow smiled around the red sphere clutched between my teeth, then clasped the panty girdle and drew it up my legs, making sure it nestled snugly into my crotch and held the dildo and butt plug firmly in place.

I began to think about what my colleagues, friends, the neighbours and, more importantly, my husband would say if they saw me in my current state and a deep flush of shameful redness filled my cheeks. But, for some reason, as ashamed of what I thought my husband, friends and coworkers would think about me, another part of me was proud that I’d remembered Sir and his teachings and that I was now presented as HE would want me.

I walked on unsteady legs to the den and sat down behind the desk where we keep our family computer. I felt the plug and dildo move inside my cunt and ass as I eased into the chair and groaned behind the ball filling my mouth. Tentatively I reached our with my gloved cuffed hands and fired up the computer, then directed it to the e-mail site I’d visited earlier in the day. When my account opened, I once again moved the mouse to the message from him and opened it. I read and re-read it over and over while my satin clad fingers found their way inside my blouse and bra and began to tease my nipples. After warring back and forth inside for nearly half an hour while I teased and caressed and twisted and pinched my nipples, I finally reached behind my head and unbuckled the gag straps again and spat the ball out once more.

Guiltily, I then reached for the phone.