A Plain Wooden Box
by Rhaz
When she came back in the evening, the first thing that Naomi said to him was, “Oh, it’s only a plain wooden box.”
That morning, her birthday, he had brought her a cup of tea on a tray with a white cloth and a single red rose. Alongside the rose was a small golden key on a chain. She had slipped it around her neck and gasped slightly at the cold as it nestled between her breasts. “It’ll soon warm up,” he had said with a smile. He noticed that she had gone to work wearing no other jewellery apart from her wedding ring.
“Whenever I had a quiet moment today, I toyed with my new key and wondered how much of you and your secretive ways I would unlock this evening.”
“Wait and see,” replied Sean, kissing her. He patted her bottom; to anyone watching it would seem as if he was just shooing her away, but this was a familiar sign between them: her eyes widened and her nostrils flared. His heart beat a little faster.
He put the finishing touches to the supper he had prepared, watching her in the mirror as she went into the bedroom. She left the door open for him. She undressed and let all her day clothes fall to the floor. She stretched like a cat. These simple movements always delighted him; two children, now grown up, had ripened her body without coarsening it. She looked good, with or without clothes on. When she came back from the loo, she put on a simple suspender belt which only seemed to emphasise her nakedness, smoothed on a pair of black stockings, clipping them in place and wrapped a silk gown, very full in the skirt but divided at the back all the way up to her waist, around her, tying it with a simple bow. She did not bother with bra or panties; he had made it clear already that there would be no need for them tonight. A pair of heels, a dab of scent and she was ready, pausing only for another wondering glance at the box.
There were flowers all round her place, the curtains were drawn, the candles were lit and Hungarian folk music played softly in the background. The meal was simple but had needed expert timing: a cheese and bacon soufflé, risen to perfection, sea bream, lightly poached in a buttery sauce with tarragon to give it an edge, a dry white wine, passion fruit sorbet. She ate slowly while he told her a long story about rescuing the sheep that had stood in the middle of the road, blocking his way across the moor when he had gone to buy fish from the quayside that morning. She ribbed him gently that he had not spent a great deal of the day writing his book.
He acknowledged her chiding with a nod of the head. She did not tell him how busy she had been all day and for that he respected her. He had written one successful novel after leaving his stressful job as an engineer but the second was taking much longer than either of them had expected. He enjoyed watching her as she relaxed, trying to conceal her curiosity about the plans he had in store for the rest of the evening.
The music came to an end and she got up as if to clear the table but, with a different tone to his voice, he ordered her to kneel down and unlock the box with the chain still round her neck. As she crouched over she received one hard slap across her rump, then as he helped her to her feet again, he caressed her more gently through the thin silk and silenced her with a kiss. They stood like that for a long time until she drew away slightly and raised one eyebrow. Working to his instructions, they stood each end of the box and lifted the lid away entirely, resting it against the wall for the moment. Four telescopic legs emerged from the box and were locked in place. Now the lid was turned over and fitted into place on the tops of the legs; there was a thick foam pad, covered in smooth black leather. He placed her so that she was standing with her legs apart, bending over at one end. She found herself looking straight into the mirror on the wall. Her torso was supported comfortably, but her clitoris felt a small protrusion; she squirmed slightly and received another slap that generated some more heat in her. There were two depressions in the foam pad where her breasts rested. He took some thick padded leather straps out of the box and attached them to the structure; two went round her ankles, two more round her thighs and two short broad straps either side of her waist were laced together on top to give a perfect fit. Two bars plugged into the front legs; her hands rested on the handles and she discovered that they were free to rotate; he fitted leather mitts over her hands to keep them in place. A leather strap came up between her legs. By now she was so wet that he felt no resistance as he inserted one dildo into her vagina. He lubricated a thinner one thoroughly and pressed it gently into her bottom. The strap fastened to the waist belt to keep them both in place. Wires led from these back into the box. He rearranged her skirt to cover her up again. Another rod plugged into the front of the platform and ended in a padded metal cage with a network of straps that supported her head leaving her jaw free. A thick rubber gag fitted in her mouth and was strapped in place. As he worked, the bulge in his trousers grew larger. Standing in front of her he asked how she felt: one wink meant, “Go on, I’m ready for more,” if she shut both eyes he would release her straight away. She winked and the reflection winked back. He walked all round her checking. She could not move at all. Her breathing was steady.
He took the key and fitted it into another keyhole. It completed a circuit and the three vibrators at her rear end started buzzing gently. Two others nuzzled at her breasts. Her nipples hardened as the silk moved under them. Her right hand controlled the sensation in her loins, her left, her breasts. Buttons on the grips determined which vibrator she was adjusting; she could set or change them together or separately. He explained that there were two buttons at the ends of the handlebars which she could reach with the tips of her little fingers. The right one would light up an orange lamp that meant, “Be careful.” The left, a red lamp which meant, “Stop.” She winked again. Finally he drew her long ash blond hair out through the top of a leather hood and fitted it over her head, lacing it neatly up the back. Straps connected the hood with the waist belt, keeping her head upright. Pads over her eyes and ears took away her last contact with the real world and he had released her; she was free to soar wherever her imagination took her. He could hear her experimenting with the twist grips, varying the interplay of the sensations that assailed her. He left her and went to do the washing up. After all he was highly aroused too and wanted to draw out the evening as long as possible.
When he came back, she was breathing faster. He undressed and sprang to attention. He gave her rump another slap: immediately an orange light warned him that she could not take much more. Going round in front of her he undid the gag. She took in several deep breaths, then pouted expectantly. He touched her lips with his penis. Her tongue came out and she licked at it as if it were an ice cream cornet that had been in the sun for too long. He moved away a bit and she tried to follow. He moved back in towards her and she opened her mouth. Her tongue worked furiously over and around the head of his penis then she opened her mouth fully and sucked him in greedily. He stood quite still and the vibrators whirred again. She bucked and heaved, moaned loudly and then he felt her tongue forcing him out of her mouth: clearly she was not ready for him to spend himself yet. For a time she stood quiet, only her legs trembling.
When her breathing had returned to normal, he refitted the gag, more loosely this time. Now he took a whip with many suede tails out of the box. Parting the curtains of her skirt he laid the tails over her bottom. She quivered and he heard her breathing alter. He let the tails travel lightly over her cheeks, then he lifted them clear and he saw her muscles tighten. Bringing them down firmly, she moaned but the lights stayed off. After six strokes, her bottom was an even red colour and the vibrators had started again. Taking his cue from the pitch of the buzzing, he gradually increased the tempo until she was writhing and moaning. Suddenly she arched her back, went rigid and the red light flashed on.
He took more attachments out of the box: two heavy handles like those on a suitcase. They fastened between the belt round her waist and the straps round her thighs, one either side. He undid the strap between her legs and the dildos slipped out of her. He disconnected them from their cables and went to wash the smaller one thoroughly. Last of all, he drew from the box a smooth metal ring bearing a lump the size of the top joint of his thumb, large enough to pass first one and then the other testicle through. His flaccid penis followed and as he fitted the ring in place it swelled up again. The smooth metal lump pointed towards his belly.
After a short pause, the pitch of the vibrators increased again and he knew that it was time to give her what she had been expecting all evening. He removed the gag, detached the straps, unlaced the hood and working as quickly as he could, removed the cage and everything that was holding her head. She was still fastened at ankles, thighs, waist and wrists but could choose to look up or let her head hang down. Crouching down, he stroked her hair; with his hand on the back of her neck he looked deep into her eyes, saw the fire burning there inside her and pressed his lips against hers. She kissed him back, harder and harder until his fire was fully alight and his penis was aching with desire. Her mouth moved, he held out his hand to receive her saliva which he carefully applied to the head and shaft of his penis till it gleamed in the dim light. He moved away from her but she could follow him in the mirror. He reconnected the smaller dildo to its cable and inserted it into his own bottom. The other cable plugged into the vibrator at the base of his penis; it would press on her crack when he was engaged with her. From behind he parted her skirt and feasted his eyes on her magnificent rear, framed by the suspender belt and the tops of her stockings. The colour had faded a bit. He caressed her cheeks gently and heard her sharp intake of breath. Taking hold of the handles, he pressed his penis against the opening to her vagina and was answered by a gentle buzz in his own bottom. “Just testing,” she said. He was a little hesitant to thrust straight into her as he felt twice normal size but now he could feel the vibrator at the base of his penis urging him inside.
He slid in as slowly as possible and felt her grip him firmly. He could go no further. He could not move. His knees were shaking. Now he could feel the vibrations from the vibrator pressing up on her clitoris from the support underneath her. Again he held himself as still as possible, thought of anything except the pressure building up inside him. He ached for release, fought to ignore all the waves rushing back and forth as she played with all the controls in turn. Sometimes all the sensation was centered on his bottom but he knew that everything was being transmitted through him and on up to her brain. She eased off on that one and now he could feel the ripples through her from her clitoris. Then everything was concentrated on the base of his penis. She had never felt so wet, so tight, so responsive. He moved and the orange light begged him to hold on for a bit longer. Desperately he cast about in his mind for a subject to focus his mind on, to distract him for a little bit longer. He squeezed down hard on his penis. He shut his eyes. He thought back over all the trouble he had taken to assemble his box; the legs, yes the legs had been the most difficult part to measure so as to put her in exactly the right position for him. He had allowed for the height of her favourite pair of shoes; had made sure that she knew what effect they had on him when he saw her wearing them; had taken no chances by making sure earlier today that they were the first pair she saw when she went to the wardrobe. The handlebars; now where had he got the handlebars from? Fortunately his technical background had enabled him to solve the problem, the problem… just keep your mind off the job… of controlling several different outputs, he had to call them outputs because just then the vibrators were creating a real frenzy between and within them both, outputs… variable voltage… rheostats…anything to give him a bit more endurance in the face of this battering of his senses.
Then she came, wave after wave of contractions gripped at his penis. He hung on, not quite exhausted by the effort of all his self control. He had set himself this most severe test of his own powers of concentration; was determined to bring the whole adventure to an even greater climax. She shuddered and all the vibrations ceased. He relaxed and reached round to withdraw the vibrator carefully out of his bottom. He dropped it on the floor. He unplugged the other cable. He opened his eyes. She was looking at him in the mirror with a wonderful smile on her face.
For only the second time since they had set out on this journey into the unknown (how long ago was it that they had got up from the supper table?) she spoke to him; favourite words, worn with much use and polished with much loving. Now she was encouraging him to take his reward for all that he had done for her; yes, just now she wanted him, wanted him as much as she had ever wanted him, even when they were busy making babies with all the abandon of their first few months together. He was still hard; he grew harder. He stared at her back, her beautiful back, the black silk softly billowing about her shoulders, the broad leather belt around her waist, her full hips, her smooth bottom still bearing the glow of its earlier treatment. Her head hung down, all her hair had fallen forward. It seemed to him that he was standing up against the tip of an even larger penis tightly sheathed in the sort of harness she sometimes put on him when she was taking her turn to dominate him. It pointed straight at him and he was buried deep inside. He stirred and now she urged him on. The vibrators were quiet and it was just the two of them together. He pulled back until he was almost out of her, moved slowly, oh how slowly back in and up, up, up, past all the mysterious folds and ridges that felt different every time. This was an experience at once new and fresh and wonderfully familiar. He kept this up for a few more strokes, could feel the tension inside her, then they both took a deep breath, was it the last breath he would ever need? Now there was no restraint, he abandoned himself to pumping as hard as he could, slapping his belly hard against her rear; his balls swung forward with each thrust, brushing the soft parts of her thighs and making her gasp again. As the noise built up the structure stayed firmly in place. He changed his grip to her shoulders, pulling himself deep into her; rejoicing to change the feel of the leather he had been grasping for the smoothness of the silk. She held on, gripped with all her fingers and toes, locked her knees in place, riding his shaft, timing the squeezes of her pelvic muscles. “Yes, yes, yes,” she shouted and at the third “yes” he exploded deep inside her; all his pent up passion squirting straight at her cervix, drenching her in his cum. Another spasm took him and another and was answered this time by her biggest orgasm of the evening. He collapsed, sprawled over her back, gasping for breath, his heart pumping furiously.
How long did they stand there in their half embrace? Now it was important to release her completely, as quickly as possible, to take her in his arms and make love to her with his whole body and mind and to let her unwind into the peace and contentment of their shared support and care for each other. He trod on a little lever near the base of one leg and all the straps fell away: she shook her hands free of the mitts. He stroked her back through the gown, gently lifted her and turned her round, away from the structure, towards him. He kissed her lightly. She kicked off her shoes and clung to him, fitting perfectly into his shoulder and this time there was a very different look in her eyes. He picked her up and carried her to the bed, laid her down gently and untied her gown, smiling as he remembered watching her as she had tied the knot. How far had they travelled since then? She sat up to remove her stockings while he went round blowing out the candles. He climbed in beside her and she curled up in his arms.
As he lay there he realised that this moment was unique; it could never be repeated. All the time and effort he had put into making his present for her was satisfied in this embrace and was complete. They would never need the box and all the tricks inside it again.
