Suspicions del 1

With a deep sigh he pulled into his driveway, parking the car just in front of the garage. For a few minutes he sat there, gathering the courage to open the door and make the dash for his front door and the comfort inside the house. Finally he picked up his morning paper, placed it over his head and made the break.

Inside he realised that he should have read the paper in the morning, now it was to late. Tossing it into the sink he went about making some coffee, trying to find relief in the boring greyness that surrounded him nowadays. A few minutes later he had his favourite cup filled with steaming hot coffee in his left hand, and a business tabloid under his right arm. He headed upstairs to his home office, a room with some bookshelves, a huge desk, a computer and most of all a large comfortable armchair, that had made this room his favourite lair of the house. He placed the cup on his little sideboard, stretched his legs, put his feet on the foot stool and took a deep breath. A nice warm sip of coffee, another deep breath. Things were coming together. He opened his business magazine and started to browse the headlines.

Suddenly. A drop fell. What was that? He put his tabloid down and listened. Nothing. A new sip of coffee. There it was! Another drop. What the hell?

He got up and out in the hallway. Listening. There it was... he moved towards the sound, entering the bedroom. It was husky and dark, quiet and still. Ha, there that sound was again. He lit the light and held his breath. Two feet beside the lamp in the ceiling was a large dark spot, from witch glistening water drops fell with a regular pace. They swivelled through the air and landed on the new, expensive hardwood floor. Drop. Drop.

Now his mood sank below bottom. He hated the stubborn rain, haunting him for days, weeks and months. And now even in his own bedroom. He got a bucket that he placed in the middle of the wet spot on the floor, noticing a change in the annoying sound of falling water drops. Next he got up to the attic to survey the range of the catastrophy. Navigating to the area above the bedroom, he found himself facing a wall of cardboard boxes, bags, suitcases and such. Behind that wall he saw the raindrops stain the wood in the ceiling dark, forming a great black spot from which water fell from a hook screwed in wood. Drop... Drop...

Making loud use of his extensive supply of curses he made his way trough the wall of boxes, taking little notice about the bags and thinghs that tumbled to the floor razzeling, and crashing. Standig right under the hook he felt a cold drop of water fall onto his forhead. He slowly began to forge evil oaths about the imbecile who had screwed a hook through his roof.

Trying to determine the range of the leakage he looked down. To his surprise he found himself standing on a piece of soft, furry carpet maybe eight foot six. The carpet was soaking wet and he could feel the moist creeping through his slippers.

Why on earth was there a carpet on the attic floor? He couldn’t remember seeing it before. As he looked around his eyes caught a suitcase that he didn’t recognise. Slowly he walked across the soaking carpet and squatted next to the suitcase. Trying the latches he found them locked. A few seconds he tried agains, then the rage that had been building up inside since he first was forced up from his chair, exploded and with a violent tugg, he pulled the case open. As he saw its contents he froze and his jaw fell to his chest in utter surpise.

The suitcase was full of ropes, chains, handcuffs and leatherstraps. There where also two thick envelopes, tucked inside straps of the top half of the case. He stared in confusion, unable to figure it out. What was this and where did it come from? Without thinking he reached for the envelopes, opened them and looked inside. The first one felt thick and flat and he found half a dousin of glossy magazines inside. On the covers where photos of bound women with little or no clothing. The titles included bondage, bound, roped and such. Slowly he began to understand. He had heard of bondage, he had once seen a XXX-rated movie where one of the women got tied up, but he had never tried it himself...

As he started to understand the meaning of the magazines, he also got a picture of the use of the things in the case. For a moment he felt the second envelope between his fingers, uncertain as to whether he dared to open it or not. He felt the irregular thickness and guessed that it contained photos. A feeling was building up inside him, that he already knew what he would find, what these photos would show.

Finally he opened and started to look through the pictures. His feeling had been correct. On photo after photo he saw his wife bound in the most amazing positions, wearing lingerie or being completely nude. Some pics showed her struggling across the floor, sometimes only her legs visible, sometimes her head. On some of the images the camera had caught her eyes... and that hurt him a lot. In her eyes he recognised that fiery heat that lit her eyes when she was really, really excited. She was as turned on in these pics as he had ever seen her. That thought hit him like a shower of melted lead. He was on fire, burning with the wounded soul of the jealous. He felt lonely, shut out from her secrets and her lust. He felt cheated and betrayed.

Staring at the photos, lost in his own dark thoughts he hadn’t heard her coming home. She on her side had seen the door to the attic being open, his filled coffeecup on the table and him out of sight. She immediately realised that he had found her secret and her heart sank. Slowly and trembling she got up the stars and entered the attic. She saw him sit on the floor, behind the broken down wall of boxes and cases that she had regarded safe... She felt his dark moods through the moist air of the attic, felt his pain and anger calling silently. Slowly she got closer.

- Hi dear, she said, voice hardly able to break the drumming sound of the water falling on the roof.

Slowly he laid down the photos and turned his head towards her, looking at her with sad eyes.

- I’m sorry, she said honest in repentece.

- So am I, he answered with a low voice, words hardly coming over his lips. How long?...

- A little more than a year...

- So you like to be bound?

- Yes... I’ve always fantasised about it but never dared to bring it up...

- Why, afraid that I would grant your wish?

- No... afraid to hurt you...

- Well at least you have achived that!

They stared at each other in painful silence. She couldn’t read him. She felt how strong feelings boiled within him, but she had no idea where it would end. She wanted to explain, but she couldn’t gather the courage. Finally she wanted him to talk, no matter what he would say, as long as he broke the silence. Just as she was on the brink of crying she saw his body straighten, and felt that he had made a decision.

- Come here, he said in a demanding tone.

She was happy that he didn’t tell her to go, so she approached him at once.

- So, these go on here? He said as he closed a steelcuff around her slender wrist.

She didn’t yet know if he was going to forgive her, so she didn’t dare to question him or back off, so she lowered her teared eyes and whispered.

- Yes, that’s what they are meant for.

He turned her around, pulled her arms behind her and secured the other cuff to her other wrist. Then he got a large red rubber ball on a black strap and held it out in front of her.

- And this goes into your mouth?

She nodded silently and opened as wide as she could as he pushed the ball inside her. He buckled the strap so tight that the corners of her mouth hurt and her lips almost closed around the ball. Next he took a piece of rope that he folded in half, placing the middle of the rope around the links connecting her handcuffs. Then he led her to the wettest spot, right under the hook, lead the rope ends through the hook and pulled. He kept on pulling as she raised her fettered arms behind her, bending forward. He stopped as her wrists where a foot higher than her shoulders and tied the rope off with several knots.

- Is that how you like it? he asked, not so much because he wanted an answer, more because he wanted to state his power over her.

She didn’t answer, but lowered her head and yielded to her bonds.

- Oh, I forgot, you also like to be naked, right?

He started by unbuttoning her skirt, letting it fall to the floor. Next he pulled her panties down, having her step out of them, throwing them away in a dark corner. He left her dark nylon stayups, since they made her look more stripped and sexy. He then got up and went behind her. Pushing his crotch against her exposed ass, he reached around and squeezed her breasts, reaching inside her blouse with the tips of his fingers. Without warning he ripped her blouse open, not caring the slightest that most of the buttons where torn off and landed shattered on the wet carpet. She moaned through her gag, pressing against him. He continued his work by unhooking her bra, pulling both the bra and her blouse back over her shoulders down her arms until the handcuffs wouldn’t let them go further.

- You will notice that your hook has caused a leak in the roof, he told her as he looked at her helplessness.
- I have to think this trough. You might as well enjoy yourself.

With that he left her and went downstairs with a dark rage threatening to break through the sad look in his eyes.

Suspicions del 1