Honey, I'm Home

Text by Susan Strict.  Artwork by Rodzo.

She returned from work to find him exactly as she had left him. She had not expected anything else. He was, after all, completely unable to move.

She wasted no time, taking off her knickers and dropping them just behind the post to which he was inescapably tied. His face was at exactly the right height, and without a word she stepped forward and pressed herself down onto him. She looked down into his eyes, full of fear and a desperate desire to escape.

"Nice to be home, darling," she said as his tongue worked at her. She wondered how he still had the energy even for that, but he knew only too well the only chance that she would remove herself from him before he passed out from lack of air was if he could satisfy her quickly.

He strained at the cords holding him. His could hardly feel his arms and legs, numb from being so long in such an uncomfortable position. ‘You’ll get used to it," she had said with a laugh when he first complained. ‘You can’t keep me here for ever,’ he had pointed out when she refused to release him, ‘You’ll have to let me go to the bathroom at least.’

‘Quite right,’ she had said, and untied him several hours later for just that. It was his chance to get away, but his arms and legs were so painful from being held so long in that position he could hardly move. It was only with her help he reached the bathroom, and even there she had to help him to make eve the smallest movement.

As soon as he had finished, she had pulled him back to the post and tied him again. He was completely incapable of resisting her.

‘I’ll take you again in a few hours,’ she had said vaguely as she settled herself back onto his face.

It would not have been fair to say she was insatiable. Indeed, she rarely spent more than half an hour forcing herself onto him before she shuddered in an uncontrolled climax and left him. Yet she returned again and again, and even when he would have supposed her to be sleeping she appeared at regular intervals and demanded attention.

How long was it now? A week? Two weeks? He had lost count of the days. He had no idea where she worked, although it must have been nearby. She left him each morning and returned just after midday, leaving again after no more than an hour to return home late in the afternoon. Now, however, it seemed this was too long away from him for her, because in the last few days she had returned mid-morning and again mid-afternoon for a brief session on his face.

She patted him affectionately on the head as she looked down at him. This time she seemed in no hurry, and his efforts to hurry her climax seemed to be having no effect on her. Maybe he was becoming weaker. Certainly he had even less strength in him on the occasions she released him briefly.

She sighed. "You’re really very good," she said. "The last one only managed four days before he gave up the will to live."

He tried to ask what had happened to him. No sound came out as she pressed down over his mouth.

"Ooooh," she squealed and wriggled. "You haven’t done that before. Do it some more."

He attempted to move his mouth again, but he was too weak for even that. She looked down at him crossly, as though he were deliberately disobeying her.

"Not good enough," she said determinedly, "I see I’ll just have to do it myself."

She started a slow back-and-forth movement on his face, pausing each time she slid forward and his nose was pressed into her. He could only breathe when she slid backwards, and he was finding it almost impossibly difficult in his weakened state to time his breathing properly. His vision started to blur, and he knew it would only be seconds before he blacked out completely.

As everything went dark he could hear the scream of a full climax starting to rise within her. It would be close, he thought hazily. He knew that as she approached climax she had no conscious control over her actions, not that she cared whether she hurt him or whether he could breathe when she did have control. This time, as his senses started to fail as well as his vision, he wondered whether this really was going to be the last time...

And he had only come round to borrow a cup of sugar.