More Bad girl gets turned on while being spanked photo samples here!
I’m standing on the edge, it might as well be the precipice. My feet shuffle and I sway, using all my balance to keep upright and then take a deep breath. Then a gulp. I look down at the grass below me, it’s barely a six feet drop, nothing really, the only thing is there is a tie wrapped around the metal pole I am standing next to (on a wooden stool) and from it’s secure mooring it drops down to my groin and is tied in a slip knot around my cock and balls.
If I were to step forward, or the stool to overbalance very suddenly I would enter a world of hurt. A frightening thought to be sure, but why then does it also turn me on? Why am I standing here, naked, with the most urgent erection I can remember?
Then my dear wife Donna, who I have been married to for three of my twenty four years exits our front door, I strain around to watch her as she strides purposefully towards me. She has something in her hands, as she nears I can recognise it as another of my work ties. Her favourite of mine, a dark Royal blue one. She takes my arms, careful not to unbalance me yet and skilfully wraps the tie around my wrists in the tightest of double knots — I will not escape it, of that I am sure.
“Enjoying this are you? You bastard, that’s hardly the point is it?”
She has seen my erection and disgusted headed back indoors. I can understand her anger. After all it was my inability to control my dick that led to this, my punishment, her retribution. I was always an office flirt, she knew that but I had failed to control it at the office Christmas party and ended the night giving a pretty young blonde from Human Relations called Phillipa a damn good, hard fucking over my desk. It was the first time I had been unfaithful and the combination of alcohol, flirting and low cut top on a nineteen year old proved too much for me. I had taken her ‘doggy style’ a position which Donna hated and had only done once before vowing never to do it again. Which only added to the disaster as my dark haired wife came into my office (she had come to collect me, figuring I would be too drunk to arrange a lift home, and a helpful colleague had suggested she look in my office to see if I was sleeping the drink off in there) to find me fucking this gorgeous blonde with wild abandon. Not good, and a quick way to sober up as she stormed off.
So I had spent much of the Christmas holidays apologising and begging her to give me another chance. I truly was repentant, I wish I could have gone back in time and behaved myself, I didn’t want to lose what we have. I begged and pleaded for her to let me back into our bed ( I had been consigned to the spare room and made sure that she knew how grateful I was even for that).
But one morning nearly two weeks since my woeful indiscretion maybe I had just had enough of pleading and begging and allowed a trace of annoyance to get into my voice.
“What do you want me to do Donna? Hang myself?” I whined.
“Yeah — by the balls!” was her tart reply.
“OK, if that’s what it takes!”
It was as stupid, throwaway comment that meant nothing when I spoke it but the idea grew in my head, I knew I had done wrong, knew that it was unpardonable and I needed to be taught a lesson and saw it as an act of contrition to my wife. Actually, when I told her I was serious I think it was an ice breaker, she looked into my eyes and saw that I meant it, I like to believe she saw how sorry I was for what I had done. Things snowballed from there, Donna eventually agreed to let me do it, perhaps not for her sake but for my own need to be punished, she insisted that I should wait a couple of weeks (that was her punishment that I would have that time to consider what I was going to do and see if I was truly able to go through with it) and that I had to do it all myself. She also pointed out that the steel clothes poles in four corners of our lawn, two of them well hidden by our high hedge would provide the perfect hanging point.
We agreed that I would only do it for as long as I felt OK and that Donna would not only witness my act but cut me down when I asked her. While she did not explicitly say so I could tell that by taking the incident in such a bizarre direction I had taken the heat somewhat off my philandering antics at the office part.
The two weeks passed slowly and as Donna had wanted as the date came closer I began to really consider what I had done and to equate my worry about what I was going to do to myself with my cheating. It was certainly effective in my mind and I was determined I would never cheat on my wife again. We had decided on a Sunday morning, so that I was unlikely to be discovered half way through by the postman or a delivery man and as I woke that morning (still in the spare bed, though I had hopes by the end of the day me and my sore b- would be back in the marital bed) it was to be greeted by a bright, fresh, cold January morning.
So that explains why I am standing , naked (Donna wanted that) with my balls in a noose. We hadn’t discussed tying my hands like she had but I was hardly in a position to complain. She came back out and as I stood there quivering she calm as you like took down some washing she had hung up and spoke to me.
“Do you trust me?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s why I put the second tie on your wrists. You’ve got to trust me that I will cu8t you down.”
“OK, that’s fine. I do trust you. I’m sorry I’m hard, it’s just standing here, like this I can’t help but feel some anticipation and excitement. It’s strange, I can’t really explain. I do love you. I’m sorry.”
“Right. Well I am going to take this stuff inside and have a few things to do as well, I’ll be fifteen or twenty minutes, why don’t you stay there and think about what you did a while longer, then I’ll come out and you can let me see how sorry you are by stepping off the stool of your own accord. Maybe if I see that then I can begin to forgive you, I don’t know.”
She took the basket and headed indoors, leaving me to my cold contemplation. I tried to keep my feet and legs warm and with circulation but I could hardly move them much could I? Any sudden movement could have been disastrous at that point with Donna inside. I did think of what I had done, briefly remembering how ecstatic I had felt when I was b-alls deep inside Phillipa, thinking what a stud I was banging one of the sexiest girls in the office as I fucked her roughly across my desk. Then I thought of the weeks since, how crappy they had been and how miserable they had been, yes, I had definitely learned my lesson. I hoped this sacrifice would show that to Donna and allow us to move on.
After what seemed an age in contemplation she emerged, this time wearing a heavy overcoat, it was cold after all. She walked purposefully towards me holding our video camera. We had agreed that she should record me doing it and keep it for a while to remind me what I had done and remind me why. She stood before me recording and panned up my body to my ace to capture it.
“Tell me what you are about to do Jon and why.”
“I’m about to hang myself by the balls because I cheated on my wife Donna and I deserve this.”
“And you are doing of your own free will, I’m not making you am I? You want to do this, don’t you? It was your suggestion?”
“Yes. I love you Donna.”
And with that and a nod of approval to go ahead from my wife I stepped off the comforting solidness of the stool and into mid air.
For the briefest of moments I hung in mid air, then dropped like a stone, my body weight pulling me swiftly towards the ground. As if in slow motion I could feel the slip knot shoot then squeeze inexorably around my balls and then bang! I came to a sudden stop, hanging in the air a good two feet from the grass below. The sensation in my cock was instantly a turn on then very quickly a pain started to spread and as I grimaced and braced myself trying to take it, determined to show Donna how much I cared and was sorry the knot tightened and I knew I could take no more.
“Aaargh! Enough, enough, cut me loose!”
Donna smiled at me and flexed the scissors before me.
“Do you trust me?” she asked again.
“YES!”
“THEN YOU ARE AS BIG A FOOL AS I WAS!”
And with those harsh words she tossed the scissors away and produced a rolled up length of one of her stockings which she proceeded to loop over my face and draw tight over my stretched mouth, effectively gagging me. She stormed back inside and appeared seconds later with suitcases which she loaded into her car as I dangled there, struggling desperately against the knots at my wrists, feeling my balls being squeezed to uncomfortable levels and needing relief but finding none. When she had done loading the car she marched back over to me.
“I’m leaving you, you bastard. You can have all the blonde sluts you want now — though whether that (pointing at my straining cock) will manage anything again is doubtful. I’m going to live with my mother again and I’ll divorce you for everything you’ve got. Have fun!”
With that she got into the car and drove off. I was helpless and knew the pain in my heart might fade with time but that I had done irrevocable damage to myself with my stupid actions. Something I had plenty of time to consider as I dangled there, hung by my balls, all afternoon.
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