Sweat This!
by Phoebegetsit

As the heat of the Southern afternoon drifted through the high windows they made love until her body had risen and fallen from several workmanlike but otherwise predictable crescendos. He completed the job with his usual self-assurance and inevitable immediate lack of interest. Their heated bodies glistened in the sunlight.

"Oh," he said, jumping up, "I have to shower, you know I must always be clean."

As he closed the bathroom door, she lay wondering whether he quite got it. Mars and Venus as recommended by their therapist had obviously left no impression, she thought, although he claimed to have read it. It was clearly time to encourage a little more post-coital appreciation.

A woman of means, she cracked her laptop as the water splashed in the next room and soon found exactly what she was looking for. Some clicks, her credit card information and around $500 later, she was closing it when he came out of the bathroom, in a cloud of her expensive soap and lotion, toweling off his hair.

"I have to be away on business," he said.

"Sure," she said, smiling. "We'll have some fun when you get back."

Later in the week she watched as the UPS guy lugged in several large flat boxes. It was another warm afternoon much like it had been during their last encounter, but she exchanged her sundress and underwear for some capri leggings, a crop top and a tight puff sleeved hoodie that she had been wearing for her morning workout since he left, and went downstairs to the basement to unpack and assemble her latest acquisition. The plans were easy to follow, and when all the bolts were inserted and the nuts were tight, she threw an old tablecloth over it. Now the sweat from her pits, her breasts and her pubic region was soaking through the spandex, so she peeled everything off and threw it on a chair. For the next several days she put it all back on to work out, and by the weekend the cute pink outfit was a smelly, stained mess.

On Sunday he called as expected and came over in the afternoon. Deprived of affection for a whole week, he was certainly eager to please, and didn't stop to question her suggestion that they make love downstairs on the basement couch. As usual, he jumped up as soon as he was done and started to make for the door. She did, too, and suddenly he found himself looking at a ladylike, pearl-handled automatic pointed at his crotch by her in her nicely-manicured hands, which he suddenly realized could deliver teeny, but quite painful and even lethal little bullets.

"Not so fast, buddy" she said, eyeballing his manhood along the barrel. "Kneel on the floor right here."

Stunned, he complied.

"Now, in!", she ordered as she peeled away the cloth like a magician's assistant to reveal a sturdy steel puppy cage. "It might be cold down here tonight, so here's something to wear." She threw her smelly workout clothes in after him and slammed the door shut.

"What the . . . ?" he shouted, as she clicked two sturdy padlocks shut at the top and bottom of the door.

"Put it all on, now!" She watched as he struggled to pull the leggings up and the crop top down in the cramped space.

"They smell bad!" he said.

"How about that!" she snarled. "Now don't forget the jacket, zip it up, pull the hood up and tie the drawstrings. Now!"

He protested that it was all too tight. When he was dressed, she knelt down next to the bars, and said, 'Now, your wrists.’ With a few clicks, his hands were cuffed and double locked around the bars behind him, outside the cage.

"No undressing," she said.

"Oh," he said, "It's a kinky game."

"Not this time."

"But suppose I have to pee?"

"Oh," she smiled, "you will, and you'll notice that the floor has a little hole in the center and there's a tray underneath, so feel free, Of course, a lot of it will get soaked up by the leggings, but don't worry, they’re washable. Oh, and there's one more thing." She pulled out a well-used pink ball gag which she rubbed in the juices still leaking from her honeypot before she reached through the bars to strap the harness on tightly and buckle it over the hood and behind his head.

"Now, sleep tight!"

He saw the crack of her ass disappearing up the basement steps before she turned and smiled. "Tomorrow, my darling, we're going to have just the best little talk about how you feel about me perspiring when we make love. And believe me, your freedom is going to depend on how you feel about it . . ."

She turned off the light and stepped up into the house, bolting the basement door from the outside.

The End

Copyright© 2014 by Phoebegetsit. All rights reserved.