Erin Ch. 09: Reunion

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Ch. 09: Reunion

{Note: This is the ninth in a multi-part story series describing the evolving relationship of a woman who provides leadership and discipline for her husband. Each installment can stand alone, but they read much better if you start at the beginning. Go to: Erin Ch. 01 – Female led Relationship. JQGraves}


I survived one final night at my mother-in-law’s house. I wasn’t at all sure I could, given that last night was “maintenance” night, and my MIL really lays on the paddle each week when she delivers a maintenance spanking. It’s hard to understand how her husband puts up with this intense, weekly routine, but their severe version of a Female Led Marriage (FLM) seems to work well for them.

Erin and I are in an FLM, and I am spanked at least weekly when she is not traveling on business, but she is not nearly as severe as her mother. At least she has not been in the past. I may have screwed the pooch while Erin was gone by escaping from my chastity cage for a session of self-gratification, only to be caught in the act by my mother-in-law—red faced and full handed, chocking the chicken, cuffing the carrot, celebrating Palm Sunday, playing five-on-one, shaking hands with the milkman [I like that one]—you get the idea.

I’m not sure yet what I may have done to our relationship, indulging in a few brief moments of self-pleasure during her absence (all right, multiple times), but I fear it will not be good. Those episodes were, after all, acts of willful disobedience and dishonesty. Even I can see that. I’m ashamed to admit I saw it at the time too, which may have added spice to the experience.

Erin returned from her latest, extended period of business travel yesterday, but she was exhausted and asked me to remain with her mother so that, after weeks away, she could get at least one long, undisturbed sleep in her own bed. She called at noon today, and she and her mother had a long conversation on the phone. Not sure what they talked about; MIL put me nose-in-a-corner of their family room while she took the call in the kitchen. No doubt MIL filled Erin in at length about my vile male habits and the steps she was forced to take on my wife’s behalf. I really wanted to know what they said to each other, but there is no amount of curiosity that could have enticed me from that corner until freed by my mother-in-law. That lady is way too scary.

After the call, which must have lasted half an hour, MIL strode into the family room. “You may come out now. Do you have all of your things packed and ready to go?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I’ve been packed for hours, waiting and hoping for Erin’s call. I don’t have many of my things here, not counting all the new panties my mother-in-law insists I wear beneath my “boy clothes”.

“Very well. Get your bag, and I’ll drive you home.”

The drive from her house to ours is not a long one, but I spent it stressing over what would happen when we arrived. Would Erin take me immediately over her knee for a lengthy paddling with her hairbrush, Lucile? Perhaps also a session with her punishment strap, Delphyne? Both in front of her mother? Would they force me to strip just inside the door so that Erin’s mother could show her the Prince Albert piercing I underwent while she was gone? Would they have a discussion about the latest devices for painful male chastity? No doubt there would be excessive handling of my member, causing me to erect in front of the two of them. (Despite weeks of such treatment, I am still embarrassed when I get a naked hardon in front of my mother-in-law.)

I wish I knew what they planned while on the phone. I wish I had had the courage to sneak down the hall to listen in. Hell, if I had that much courage, my entire married existence would be different. And I’m not at all sure it would be for the better.

We pulled into our drive, MIL opened the car door for canlı bahis şirketleri me (part of the ritual to keep me mindful of my status), took me by the hand and walked me up to our door. Erin opened the door and stepped back so I could enter. MIL put a hand to my back to encourage my entrance and closed the door behind me. I was surprised that she did not follow me in.

Erin stood there gazing at me, until the tension of the silence became too much for me and I started to say, “Erin, I…”

Erin took me in her arms and held me to her, murmuring, “Hush, dear, it’s all right. We’ll talk about it later. I’m just glad to be home, back with my husband. This last trip was far too long. I promise that I will never do that again. From now on, I plan to delegate travel to my staff as much as possible. I still must take a turn from time to time, but I will never let my absences last for more than a week. I miss you too much when I’m gone.”

We stood there in the entryway, holding each other for several minutes. She was so soft and warm in my arms. I loved it and felt sad for all the time we missed being together while she was away.

“Have you had lunch?” she asked as she eased back. “I’m starving. I’m not long out of bed, so I’m in the mood for breakfast. How about fixing us some French toast and sausage.” She hooked her arm around my waist and steered me toward the kitchen.

“Let me help you with your apron,” she said, putting the strap over my head and tying a big, floppy bow in the back. “Later,” she added with a pat to my bottom, “you must show me whether this apron matches your new panties.” She giggled as she added, “We may have to buy you a few more aprons to keep you color coordinated.” She took a seat to watch me prepare our meal. I figured that her mother must have told her all about the benefits to me of wearing panties while they were on the phone.

As I cooked, Erin regaled me with stories about the perils and pitfalls of foreign travel. She loved India, or would have if the trip had been several weeks shorter. But no matter where you travel, there is often a clash of cultures that must be navigated around. She always came back from her trips with humorous stories to tell.

After lunch/breakfast, Erin helped me clean up the kitchen. When I was done and hanging up my apron, she said, “I’m dying of curiosity. You’ve got to show me your latest modification. Come on,” she said, taking my hand and pulling me toward the bedroom.

When we arrived, I sat on the edge of the bed and bent down to untie my shoes. “Let me,” she said, brushing my hands away. For the next few minutes, she playfully removed each article of my clothing. “It’s like unwrapping a present received after a trip away. It’s usually the person who stays home that receives such gifts, but we’ll just pretend, this time.”

Erin backed away and laughed when she lowered my pants to reveal the panties her mother had put me in that morning. I thought Erin would fall to the floor, overcome with hilarity. I was wearing the frilliest pair of pink panties MIL bought for me. She said they were special for my homecoming. I objected, briefly, because they are excessively feminine, with flower-shaped, see-through panels and lots of lacy accents, but a stern look from that harridan was enough to get me to agree to her wishes.

“We definitely need to buy you more aprons. It will take some effort to find one that will go with those panties.”

“Erin, please…”

“Now, now, don’t spoil the mood.

“I hate to take these off of you,” she said, inserting her fingers in the waistband, “but I’ve got to see… Oh… my… god!” The panties were only half way down my thighs, but Erin was entranced at the sight of my partially tumescent member with its shiny, heavy gauge, surgical steel ring at the end. She reached out to grasp it, manipulating me so she could see it canlı kaçak iddaa from all angles.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“Not any more. It was painful at the time, but I’m mostly healed now.”

Erin completed the removal of the panties, having me lift each foot, then clasped me with a hand on each hip and turned me so she could see my ass. “Mother does a good job on maintenance day, doesn’t she.”

“Oh, yes.”

She turned me back around and looked me in the eyes. “You realize that we will have a private discussion about the reasons for this modification to Chuck.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Very well. We’ll address it another day. Your backside should be fully recovered first, and I don’t want to mar our reunion with such serious business. Besides, I have got to try out Chuck 2.0. Get on the bed, on your back.”

While I lay down, Erin stripped in a flash, throwing what little she was wearing across the room. She then went to her bedside table and pulled a package of condoms from the drawer. We don’t often use them, but have them on hand for when the mood suits her. She sometimes likes to lie atop me, pressing me down on the bed and feed me from them a little at a time after I have filled one making love. Not my most favorite thing to do, but part of the games we play. She rolled one down my stiffened rod, felt the ring through the latex, then muttering something about endurance, added a second. “That should work,” she said, checking with her fingers to ensure she could still feel the ring through the material.

“I’ve encased you twice so you will, hopefully, be able to delay your own orgasm until you can join with mine. It’s been a while since your last release, even longer since mine, and I don’t want you to cum prematurely. Please don’t force me to bring out Lucile today.”

“I won’t,” I said, hoping I could keep that commitment when Erin’s warm pussy was caressing my hard cock. Fundamentally, sex is a mind game, and tactile sensations are only a part of it. The image of Erin’s naked body above me, her taught belly rising and falling, encasing and revealing my member as it penetrates her, her breasts with their hard, little nipples swaying with the rhythm of her movements might be enough to bring me to orgasm no matter how many condoms were used. Past painful meetings with Erin’s hairbrush, Lucile, when I came too soon, would help me in this struggle, but still…

Out of concern for my powers of endurance, Erin did not immediately mount Chuck. Instead, she climbed on the bed, straddled me on her knees and walked her way up to my face. With an encouraging grin and the comment, “You don’t know how much I have missed this,” she slowly lowered her pussy to my waiting lips.

With years of training, I know exactly how to best please my bride. She may be impatient, may seem to want to reach the pinnacle as quickly as possible, but this is one activity in which I must take control—within certain guidelines. At times, she works just as hard as I do to achieve her release, and she can become frustrated with the pace of things, but we both know that pleasure hurried is pleasure foreshortened. It’s back to that mind game thing again. Time is required to build the needed tension, both physical and mental, to achieve the most shattering release.

I applied my lips and my tongue to Erin, sometimes soft and slow, sometimes flicking frantically, varying the stimulus to edge her higher. I explored Erin’s hidden depths. And, after stabbing my tongue as deeply as I could, started to thrust and withdraw in simulation of an action I longed to take with a much bigger, harder and longer part of my body.

I went back to her clit, which had swollen noticeably, and nibbled on it with my lips and stroked it with my tongue. I slowed somewhat when I sensed Erin approaching orgasm, wanting the tension to build to intolerable heights. I sped up canlı kaçak bahis again as I felt her losing control and exploding over the top, covering her vagina and clitoris with rapid strokes. Her entire body trembled above me as she erupted in a gush of released passion.

I gently kissed and laved her with my tongue as she recovered.

“Oh, I missed that,” she said. “You have gotten so good at bringing me off. You haven’t been practicing with other women while I was away, have you?”

I knew from her smile that the question was asked in fun. She knew she was the only one for me. No other woman could even be in the running.

“No, there could never be another woman for me. My skill is all due to your loving guidance, and, of course, the occasional meeting with Lucile,” I responded with an answering smile.

“I’m so wet now,” she said as she worked her way down my body, “I doubt you’d feel any friction against your cock today, even without the condoms shielding you.”

Back up on her knees, with her hard, little nubbins scraping against my chest, she worked her way down my body. She nibbled on my ear (she loves it when I do that to her), kissed down my neck and bit my nipples, first one then the other. Her tongue explored my navel as her fingernails scratched my quivering belly. She detests the taste and texture of plastic, so did not take my cock into her mouth, gripping it instead at the base, and pulsing her fingers around me. Her mouth moved down to my balls, nibbling and kissing, while she slid a finger lightly across my anus.

I could not take much of this treatment, after weeks of denial, and she knew it. So, her ministrations were brief, just enough to guarantee full inflation of Chuck. Then she climbed back up my body, raised above me for a moment, then using her hand to guide me, she slowly lowered herself with one long thrust.

It was wonderful, and I had to take preventive mental actions to keep from cumming. Even after our years of marriage, Erin can drive me insane.

“Interesting,” she said.

I could tell by her voice that while the word she chose might be clinical in nature, her emotional state was anything but clinical.

“Can you feel the ring?” I asked.

“Oh yes. It’s not overwhelming, but it is definitely there, and it definitely adds to the experience. I might have modified Chuck sooner if I’d known.”

Erin took me long and slow, only increasing the pace when she was on the critical verge of cumming. Fortunately, I was able, with difficulty, to match her in timing and intensity of release. It was the best ever. Of course, each time is the “best ever” when love is involved.

We spent that afternoon in bed, playing and napping. (Erin was seriously jet-lagged.) Dinner consisted of snacks and white wine so we did not have to get out of bed for any longer than necessary.

When night arrived, and we were ready for slumber, Erin reached over me to pat my bottom and said, “We still need to hold a discussion—a meeting with Lucile and a visit from Delphyne—regarding your naughty behavior while I was gone.”

“I know,” I said.

“And in future,” she continued, with a big yawn, “when I do have to travel, I will not be leaving you unattended. I’ve discussed it with mother, and she is willing to help occasionally, but when it is not convenient for her, Michelle has volunteered to care for you.” With those final words, Erin faded to black. I, on the other hand, was suddenly wide awake.

Michelle? Michelle is the Personal Assistant to the CEO of the company where Erin is Vice President of Supply Chain Management, and a close friend to my wife. I’ve not yet met her, but she and Erin have shared far more than I would like regarding their relations with their respective husbands. They’re both years younger than Erin and I, and Erin has mentioned that Michelle is into fitness and quite attractive. She’s also said that she is very strict with her Jason.

I lay there in the dark, next to my sleeping spouse, in fearful anticipation of being taken, pants down, over this young woman’s knee and soundly spanked.

END of Erin Ch. 09: Reunion

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