Sunday Morning
by Paul

I love Sunday mornings. This one is a lovely, sunny, still day. Itís the sounds of it. The warmth of it too. The sun is beaming in through the upper bedroom windows warming the house. I know it's doing the same through our patio windows as I can feel the warm air rising up the staircase.

Outside I can hear my husband cutting the grass with our old petrol mower, just as he has for the last ten years of our marriage, its muted roar echoing around the buildings, the tone changing with each change of direction.

I can tell he is on the back lawn and coming towards the house. Itís a comforting sound of summer. There is a faint smell of cut grass in the gentle breeze that enters the house.

We will be out on the grass later having a late lunch.

A solitary bumble bee comes into the lounge bellow and I listen to it buzz-bomb its way around the living room, probably looking for those flowers I cut from the garden last night, sweat peas and those beautiful chrysanthemums that Dan loves.

The village clock strikes and I hear its gentle rumbling as it strikes ten.

The bee comes buzzing into the hallway and as it passes me I feel its turbine wash as its wings claw for altitude. The breeze causes my nipples to harden and a little shiver to run across my skin. I groan and move a little which makes me groan harder as the dual pain from my legs and extended nipples drag my wandering mind away from the pleasant feelings that I have flooded my mind with to remove all the other sensations which could, if I let them, take over my sanity.

I am hanging upside down from a wire rope which is running up through the hatch that is above our stairwell. We had it made for placing me in the predicament that I am in. Well... that and others, if I am honest enough to admit it.

My legs are spread about shoulder width apart and my ankles are attached to a solid steel bar by leather cuffs. These are a lot easier on my legs than the rope we started off with years ago.

My feet are encased in my little ankle boots that I adore and I am wearing white stockings in contrast to my suntanned brownness.

Attached to the ankle bar and pointing down between my legs is a heavy round metal rod which has a very large rubber cock at the bottom end of it. This pushes deeper into my vagina with my every movement. The weight of the bar insures that I cannot eject it or really stop its mission.

I love this invention, Dan is so clever. The rod is fastened to the ankle bar by a loose ring that stops it falling away from me but leaves it free to press against my body. The cock is interchangeable for size and we do have ones with knobbly bits on and a double one for a change if I get bored or stroppy.

My stockings are attached to a waist clincher by leather straps that keep the stockings taut while the clincher pulls my waist in.

My wrists, elbows and upper arms are all pinned to my body by leather straps that firstly encircle my arms and then go round my torso keeping them tightly squeezed to me.

My nipples are pulling my breasts outwards at ninety degrees as the clamps attached to them are tied to the banister rail to stop me twisting in the breeze. Hence the slightest rock or movement of my body makes life painful.

A hood encloses my head and my hair is tied in a braid inside the hood itself.

A wide leather collar encloses my neck, trapping the hood.

The leather creaks a bit as I move a little to ease my position, which eases the cock deeper. I am lucky that Dan hasnít added weights to the rod to help its progress. He does that when I have been naughty, usually spending money on something unnecessary.

No. Today is just another nice Sunday morning in our house.

The lawn mower is on its way back on to the top of its cut and I have counted ten runs so thatís the left side of the rear done. I hear it slow and know Dan is emptying the grass bin into our large compost heap.

My body will ache for days but it's all worth it as I love the fact I can walk round with my pains and aches and a big satisfied grin on my face.

A huge ripple runs through my body as the timer on the vibrator kicks in and as I wriggle I feel it sink deeper. And with a huge cramp I feel the world go bright and my orgasm explodes. I feel pain in my nipples and realise that the clamps have come off with my struggling.

'Bugger that's ten with the paddle later,' I think as the vibrator stops and I relax.

The feeling of hanging upside down is starting to make a little light-headed, so as the vibrator kicks in again I orgasm quickly but in a long stream of grunts and moans. I have lost count by the time I feel the jerk on the wire as I am lowered down onto the hall table and unhooked from the wire, but Dan leaves the spreader bar attached, tightening the clamp which holds the pole with the vibrator deep inside me. It is a devious plan.

I am helped off the table and groan as my weight sinks me onto the vibrator up to my cervix and I groan as it switches on and my world vibrates it feels like even my teeth are chattering to its rhythm.

Dan attaches a lead to the ring on my collar and pulls gently while a get my balance. I waddle to where he is leading me.

I know from watching videos of myself that it looks funny. Boobs rolling in time to my wide gait, he doesnít say anything just pulls me along. He has to wait though. Just by the conservatory my body rebels and I have another huge orgasm and have to struggle to keep my balance. I cannot sink to my knees due to the pole holding me upright.

And it hurts to just fall over. I think it's the predicament of my position that adds to the strength of it.

Dan takes hold of my arm and thus I donít hit the deck. I recover and he continues the tour.

I feel him unstrap my arms and the belts round my body. Then I am pushed onto the dining table, shivering at its coolness on my back's skin. It's so he can pull the pole and vibrator out of my stretched puss.

I feel it leaving with a sorrow. But I know the morning hasnít finished yet.

Sliding me up the table until my head hangs over the edge he then slips my arms back so they go out at right angles straight down a-la-strappado and I feel the leather cuffs of our spreader bar being coupled to my wrists and he puts his foot on the bar placing his weight on it so my arms take the strain. With my head hanging backwards over the edge and my mouth and throat being in a line I know what's coming and soon feel his lovely cock head brushing my lips. "Mmmm..." I moan and open up.

He takes the hint and slides it all the way in down my throat until his balls rest on my eyelids and I am struggling to breathe, his groans are worth it as he slides in and out.

My eyes ache a little from the bumping of his testicles but soon I hear a grunt and feel his shaft swell and the explosion of fluids as they pour down my throat. It's actually not a bad way but my throat aches for ages. He waits for me to lick him clean and as soon as he starts to harden off again he moves to my pussy and takes me hard and fast bringing me off twice more. Oh god, I love him and my Sundays.

He unfastens me to start Sunday lunch. Naked and cuffed.

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