Plugged In, Switched On, and Worn Out

Randy and I wanted to try a different sort of vacation. We’ve been fortunate enough to visit beautiful places and shared many exotic adventures. This time, though, we wondered what might happen if we just stayed home. A few weeks in advance, we picked out a weekday that looked empty on our calendars. The idea was that we would stay home from work while our daughter attended school as normal.

We began our day by sleeping late and rolling out of bed in time to visit our favorite breakfast/brunch restaurant. Amid our coffee and eggs, we chatted at length about friends, family, work, household projects, current events, and a dozen other topics. Not only do I adore this man with all my soul, I find him an interesting companion. We both observed that despite living together, we get far too chances to just relax and enjoy each others’ company.

As we were driving home, totally out of the blue, Randy asked me if I was in the mood for some “fun.” That word from his lips can mean only thing – vigorous lovemaking with all the trimmings! “Sure,” I replied with enthusiasm. I had expected nothing less.

When we arrived home, Randy told me he had a project he wanted to complete in his workshop down in the basement. I couldn’t help but pout a little bit. After all, he led me on in the car! “No fair,” I thought. I sat on the couch amid the muffled sound of drilling and sawing from below. I picked up a magazine, but none of the articles interested me. I briefly considered television before recoiling at the memory of shows telecast during the middle of the day. I felt bored. I felt neglected. I felt let down. Why would he even ask me that question?

Before I had time to concoct a answer, Randy leapt up the steps with a smile on his face and a pole in his hand. Yes, that’s right. It was a wooden pole. It was about four feet long and cylindrical. “Fantastic,” I thought, “Now he’s going to beat me with a hoe handle!” Let’s just say I was less than enthralled about that prospect.

“What’s the matter, Honey?” he asked in a tone that suggested that he really didn’t know. “You asked me about ‘fun’ and then disappeared,” I grumbled. “Fear not,” he said. “If it’s ‘fun’ you desire, then ‘fun’ you shall have.” That’s better, I thought, but the pole still had me worried. Just then, I thought of a second possible use for it and I liked that one even less.

“Let’s go upstairs and see what develops,” my lover instructed. His tone was playful. I vowed to play along. When we reached our bedroom, Randy told me to remove all of my clothes. As I followed this command, he pulled back the covers and piled the pillows in the center of the bed. I’d seen this particular configuration before and very well knew what it meant. Still, I hesitated.

“Take your position, Bon.” Needing only that small encouragement, I climbed onto the bed and lay face down with my middle atop the pillows. My naked bottom was fully exposed and pointed at the ceiling.

Randy rubbed my feet, ankles, and calves. It felt good. He moved up to the back of my thighs and it felt even better. Finger tips lightly dancing over my skin triggered both shivers and goose bumps. Next, he reached my hips. There, he adopted a deeper massaging action. When he reached my well displayed bottom, the rubbing was punctuated with light slaps. His pace was leisurely, but deliberate.

By this time, I was practically panting with lust. In my clouded mental state, I thought it was clearly time for a good spanking or good sex or something of the sort. My lover, however, had a different idea. He rubbed my lower back with his left hand while his right lightly smacked my derriere. Then suddenly, he was gone.

My next realization was that Randy was binding my wrists with a sturdy scarf. Now this, I recognized, could lead to something intriguing. He disappeared behind me. I could hear my man removing something from our toy drawer. I imagined it was some sort of spanking implement, but I was too much into the moment to expend much energy trying to predict his choice.

As I had feared, he rubbed that nasty hoe handle against my bottom. The sensation broke my trance and caused me to fear for my own well being. Was he really going to use that? It could break bones for goodness sake.

After all these years, I should have known better. While I was worrying, he was setting up the pole for its true purpose. I later learned that he had drilled holes in each end. Through those holes, he pulled two pairs of my discarded pantyhose. Randy then spread my legs wide and tied one pair of pantyhose around each of my ankles. I was not only effectively immobilized, I was completely exposed!

After giving me a few moments to ponder my predicament, Randy’s fingers touched me in a very private locale. I felt slippery lubricant applied all around and inside my anus. I should have known what was coming next, but I swear I was surprised when he pushed the rubber butt plug into me. I gasped as it settled into place.

I’m of two minds about anal play. On one hand, it’s so naughty and taboo. It makes me feel deliciously submissive when my lover defiles me so thoroughly. On the other hand, I usually don’t much enjoy the actual penetration. On this occasion, though, I was sufficiently aroused that I was ready to willingly accept whatever gifts Randy chose to provide.

I squeezed my eyes closed tight as my lover violated my rectum. They opened wide again when I heard the sound of a buzzing vibrator. My breathing quickened when he applied the toy to my swelling love button. He manipulated it back and forth in a well schooled and most pleasurable manner. Guttural groans replaced pants as I bucked atop that mountain of pillows.

Before I had much chance to drink in this splendid attention, Randy added one more element to my spicy entertainment. He was kneeling on the bed beside my left leg. I couldn’t see him or what he was doing. Suddenly, I felt a sharp sting on my right cheek. He repeated the strike on my left. It hurt a lot. Randy began alternating sides with a regular cadence. Whatever implement he was using left an intense residual burn after the worst of the initial sting subsided. All the while, the vibrator in his other hand was driving me positively wild.

After quite a few blows, the combination of the plug, the vibrator, and the rough spanks pushed me to a screaming, quaking crescendo. I shook for a couple of minutes as my body released every ounce of stored tension. When the orgasms receded, I felt limp.

Randy untied me and removed the plug. He reorganized the chaotic bed and pushed the toys away. We lay on the bed together as he held me tight. My eyes were moist with tears of joy. He had filled me and fulfilled me completely. I loved him absolutely. I knew he loved me too. I squeezed my man and kissed his face.

“I thought you didn’t like the plug,” he whispered. “I love the plug,” was my only reply. “I thought you didn’t like switches,” he continued. “So that’s what that was,” I muttered as I rubbed the punished area for the first time. I could feel long thin welts that were likely to stick around for a few days. After thinking for a moment, I explained that “Switches are OK when handled by an expert.”

“Well good,” Randy proclaimed with a grin, “I certainly wouldn’t want to give you anything you don’t like.” With that, he rolled me onto my back and positioned himself on top of me. The lovemaking that followed was gentle and sweet. This mellow rapture was the ideal completion to our sensual vacation. Afterward, we fell asleep in each others’ arms.

It was a fine day off. Playing hooky from work was never any better than this!

Keywords: spanking, switching, spanking stories