Part of this evening was familiar. My husband’s warm, lotioned hands working out the stress in
my neck and shoulders was nothing new.
A few times a week, I’d lay face down, head tucked into a pillow, topless in some comfortable
pajama pants. He’d climb on top, one knee sliding my thighs apart, straddling one leg. He knew
that damn knee, pressed against me in a very intimate manner could be used to enhance the
experience, and slowly ramp up a desire for … further evening activities.
Tonight was heading in that direction, but not like any night before. That was where the
familiarity ended.
I looked forward to the two monitors connected to his computer, one of which reflected my face,
and him above, fading slightly into darkness and blurred from his fancy camera techniques, in
vivid detail.
Why did I have to marry a photographer?
I can’t complain about his creative side too much, it was how we met. I modeled casually in my
twenties, and through mutual friends and parties, we ended up meeting, working together, and
after a wild fling of a weekend, I packed up, moved across the country and never looked back.
Well, I’ve looked back a little at times, but life is good.
The camera setup was intricate, three of them were stationed around the bed. The lighting was
dark and moody, the boudoir style where the body fades into shadows, the important parts in
focus, but the rest blurring into near nothingness. I felt and looked beautiful, my red curls
standing out in the forefront. But this was nothing like any photoshoot I’d been in before.
I was in my current predicament due to a conversation my husband and I had with a friend.
She’s a pretty girl, but not the kind I’d expect to be a cam girl on adult sites…. Let alone one
who’d be making the amount of money she was for an hour’s work a few nights a week.
We’d both had a sexually adventurous past, nude images of both of us exist out there in the
world, so something like this wasn’t a huge stretch of the imagination. The scope is definitely
something new, but it was the idea of the “in between” time made us both hesitant on trying
something.
From looking at cam sites considering the idea of trying something new, most seemed boring
outside of private shows. Many of them were just a pretty girl sitting there, waiting, with an
occasional “Thank You” to a message someone posted in the chat. No involvement, no
engagement, and we’d feel silly just sitting there for an indeterminate amount of time.
So he pitched me the idea of involving an audience in our nightly massage sessions.
Our idle time would be put to use, that awkward element would be a nonissue. Chatters could
drive the massage portions of the show, instructing him to work harder, softer, rake his nails
wherever they directed. Finally, donors towards private shows would dictate what he did to me,
and how.
On top of this, I’d be bound. My forearms bound together, tied to the bed, and my head resting
upon them. The only control I had was my wrist, controlling the computer’s trackpad to start the
session, and selecting which of the three cameras was shown to our viewers when they weren’t
shuffled automatically.
The amount of sheer surrender this idea required called to me. Tonight’s activities were at the
whim of my husband and complete strangers… I could feel dampness flow down my thighs, and
we hadn’t even started yet.
It could be anything. And that was driving me crazy. My husband was generous and a bit
inventive, but what would these viewers suggest?
We had practiced this once. A trial run, so to speak. We created a Tinder profile to seek out a
friendly partner to engage in a video chat, just one on one. He wanted to test out the tech side
of things, and both of us wanted to get out some jitters.
She was gorgeous. A petite, fair girl, with long black hair and tattoos covering half of her lithe
body. She was more interested in just watching us than directing us though. Watching her
watching us, and seeing her cum before my husband allowed me that same sweet release
made it quite incredible.
It still didn’t prepare me for tonight.
The mixture of raw nerves and thoroughly drenched panties was an odd combination, and I
didn’t know if I liked the feeling or not. However, I only hesitated a little when my husband gave
the command.
“Are you ready? Press the start streaming button.” He said a little too enthusiastically.
I could hear the excitement in his voice. Usually so timid, the fusion of impending sex, cameras,
and technology put him in a mood, a vigor that was common in our lives a decade ago, but
tempered now that we’re in our mid thirties in a typical suburban lifestyle.
“You seem more than ready.” I said. Then, taking a deep breath in, and letting it out in a sighed
follow up, “Fuck. I’m probably not gonna walk straight for a bit, am I?”
I heard a villainous chuckle and I clicked the button.
We knew the start would be slow. We had no followers, no set schedule, nothing but a well
planned visual presentation. He was optimistic that his camera skills would draw attention (and
we did look incredible. Moody, paired next to fairly generic webcams) and within a few moments
we had our first viewers.
I welcomed a few as their names popped up in chat, trying to be personal with it. “Hi Brian” for
brian1336. “I do like goth girls, welcome.” for bigtiddygothgirl. I’d had fun with usernames in the
past, it was a little thrilling to see who would visit next.
I’m usually a bit reserved, but as the face of the show I’d been instructed to be friendly and
inviting when I can, flirty. My role today was to obey, so obey I did.
These greetings came between moans of pain and pleasure as my husband had begun his
work. Years ago, once he learned the extent of how I associate the two, his massages became
deeper, harder, more effective, and thoroughly more enjoyable. I think he finds the largest knots
and times the pressure from his hands with the pressure from that freaking knee on purpose.
Those are the best moments in our regular massages.
There were a few such moments in the first ten minutes or so, and the viewers became more
engaged whenever moans escaped my lips into a microphone just off camera. Comments of
“harder” and “deeper” flooded the screen.
Then our first donation happened. Fifteen minutes into our session a bright notification filled the
center of the screen, and it started a cavalcade of events. One message that changed
everything, and it was simple.
“Cassidy has tipped $5. Stop the massage, gentle fingertip caresses.”
See, my husband had set up a menu of sorts that showed up on screen with us. There was a
fairly high dollar amount set for private shows, where the viewer called all the shots, but there
were some options to get us involved in activities for all to see.
Simple things like $X for a flash, $Y for a slap on the ass, stuff to get the chat involved,
engaged, and have a role in directing the show for just a couple bucks. One of which was $5 –
you control the massage for 3 minutes. Simple, straightforward, and something we thought
would add up here and there for a bit of fan control.
But it was the longest three minutes of my life.
I whimpered as his hands softly, gently raked down my spine, crossing over a particularly
sensitive spot that made me arch my back, grinding my pussy against his knee.
I must have sounded pitiful because chat exploded. “HARDER. HARDER. MAKE HER MOAN.
DEEPER. HARDER” and i wanted it, i neeeded it, more than anything.
But Cassidy was in charge. And I was to obey. I surrendered.
And all fear of what I would be asked to do vanished. I needed more. I ached for more.
Regardless of the request that showed up on screen, that’s what I needed.
But his hands still gently traced over my skin. I yearned to reach down and take matters into my
own hands, but my bounds restrained me, tugging did nothing.
I rocked my hips against my husband’s knee. Grinding my clit against the soft silk of my panties
felt incredible, but it wasn’t enough. Deep thrusts of my hips quickened my pulse, but still
insufficient. My eyes locked to the three minute timer, furious at time itself.
Three
Two
One
My husband’s knuckle bit in DEEP to a tough knot behind my shoulder blade. And as it slowly,
finally, pushed across, pain flared throughout my body. My vision swam as wave after wave of
pleasure rose to meet it.
That was the first time I came that night. It wasn’t the last. Not by a long shot.
Chat was silent as I tried to catch my breath. Maybe they’d give me a moment as I rode out the
tail end of the orgasm.
They did not.
“Trevor donated $2 – Slap”
My husband’s hand came down on my firm ass. The thin fabric of my panties and pajamas did
little to dampen the sting. The orgasm had not yet faded and burst again to full bloom.
“Cassidy has tipped $5. Stop the massage, gentle fingertip caresses.”
I was starting to hate Cassidy. At first, knowing what might come next, I pressed my pussy hard
against his waiting knee, rocking gently to wait for the time to pass. But knowing what I could be
having now made the wait even more frustrating.
With a few seconds left on the timer, that sweet, beautiful knee pulled away. My husband’s body
was fully removed from mine. He placed his hands on either side of my head, leaned down
close whispering “not this time”
I screamed as he bit down hard on my ear, tugging. That wasn’t from the chat, that was all him.
Our massage continued, my hips resuming as he returned to his spot. Thankfully the next
donation was for a firm, hard session. My neck really did need it. A spank or two followed as we
eased into what seemed like our typical routine for a bit.
“Jenna donated $10 – Move your knee. Pull out your cock and press that against her pussy, let
her know you’re ready to fuck”
I almost started panicking with the first part of that comment. My hands were bound, that firm
pressure between my thighs was the only thing keeping me sane.
But when I saw him on the monitor pulling out his hard, thick cock I calmed a little, knowing what
was likely to occur soon. Please god let it be soon. Tilted down between my legs I could feel it
pulsing, his heart racing through it caused mine to rise.
My eyes were glued to the screen, waiting for the private chat session I knew was coming soon,
something that scared and excited me.
Cassidy has invited you to a private chat – “I’ve teased her enough, use your imagination, and
give it to her rough”
I clicked on the link to join the chat and was greeted by her camera. Across from us was a lovely
girl about our age, blonde and lying in bed. It was dark, but illuminated by her laptop I could see
one hand in pink panties, rubbing slowly, and the other caressing her chest above small, perky
breasts.
“Hi.” I could hear say. “Use your imagination, don’t be shy.”
My husband wasted no time. Nearly leaping back, his cock caressed me as it departed. His
hands firmly grasped the fabric of the seat of my pajamas, grabbing the panties underneath as
well. He yanked his hands apart, RIPPING them both, the fabric tearing along the seam, leaving
me completely exposed.
Cassidy’s eyes went wide, her hand pausing for a moment before moving deeper into her
panties. I could just imagine her sliding her fingers into her own pussy – was it as wet as mine?
Bared, my hips rose to meet his face. The cameras, automated to swap between the three,
swapped to the one slightly behind us. I saw his face lowering to meet my pussy as it rose.
His tongue explored the folds of my pussy as his thumb caressed my clit. Moaning deeply as
the camera switched back to my face, it didn’t seem to show quite the ecstasy I was
experiencing, but Cassidy seemed to see it in me. Her hand was furiously sliding in and out of
her pussy as my husband’s tongue started sliding towards my ass.
Taboo be damned. His tongue explored my ass as two fingers slid into my pussy. They met no
resistance, and I could see glistening moisture running down his arm. God, I was so wet, this
man could take me in any way he wanted at this moment. Cassidy seemed to be appreciating
his direction to be imaginative, this wasn’t an everyday occurrence.
I yearned to have more of him inside me. My hips pressed backwards, but my restrained hands
kept me from reaching too far.
He ignored the request, instead putting full effort into his hands. His palm slapping against my
clit as his tongue explored fairly unexplored territory. The sharp intensity sent me over the edge
for the second time. Cassidy bit her lip, her back arching showing she was close as I came in a
new variation of a regular manner.
I sighed, shuddering. Cassidy had slowed down, intent on seeing what my husband had in mind
next for me. For us.
Slowly withdrawing his hand, his tongue and lips suddenly absent, I saw him on the screen
straighten up. He positioned the leg so familiar to me further outward, centering his body firmly
behind me.
The wood of the bed frame creaked as I threw my full weight rearwards. Towards him. My
restraints may have hurt my wrists, cracked a support beam of the bed, I didn’t care, I craved
more.
He was teasing me.
The tip of his cock rested against my clit. I felt my body shudder and pull at the restraints as the
sensation moved through me. The weight of his body pressed against mine, allowing me to feel the heat
of his engorged cock between my wet thighs for one blissful minute. A soft moan left my lips as his breath
was hot against my ear. I forgot all about Cassidy or anyone else who lived inside the screen. All that
mattered was the way every nerve ending in my body was on fire, begging to be soothed. “The more you
struggle, the more you’ll be denied. Haven’t you figured that out yet? The secret is to just let go.”
The words excited me, and I couldn’t help but grind my clit against the length of him. Letting go wasn’t my
strong suit. What I wanted, I often didn’t want to wait for. My entire body cried in disappointment as he
pulled away, giving Cassidy a view of my pleasurable torment. He kept the tip of his cock pressed against
my clit lightly, offering neither satisfaction nor release.
The strain I felt was reflected on Cassidy’s face. She’d slowed down, but bit her lip in anticipation. It was
clear to me that she was imagining herself as me right now, and that sent a wave of heat rushing through
my body. My husband gave a devilish smile, though I could feel his arousal and the struggle to contain
himself as he guided the tip of his cock against my clit in unbearable circles. I felt my breath catch in my
throat before turning into shallow gasps. My entire body ached, but I was transfixed by watching Cassidy
on the screen. She didn’t know me, but it was like she could feel my anticipation.
I struggled against myself, holding still until a drop of pre-cum stroked my clit, the heat of my husband’s
wetness against my own turning into a furnace ready to explode. “Please. More.” I could barely manage
the words, lost in the sensation. I’d never felt so open, so exposed, and as I closed my eyes I saw
Cassidy’s hand move faster.
“Do you want what she wants? You want me to give it to you rough? You seem to be enjoying gentle.” His
voice teased me in a way that made me want to scream and slap him, if I didn’t crave him inside me with
every fibre of my being.
“Yes. Mmmm, yes.” The words were hard to form, my head buzzing with arousal and my body crying out
for touch, though somehow the words were exciting, too. He wasn’t normally the talkative type, but his
own arousal was bringing out something in him I hadn’t seen or felt before.
Whatever it was, my body cried out for it, literally. I could swear I heard Cassidy’s moan through the
screen, but I didn’t care. It was like she wasn’t real anymore, just an extension of my own pleasure.
“Good girl. Keep your eyes closed and don’t move. I mean it. Not a muscle.” His words were still kind but
suddenly felt like directions. That was new, too, and something that I would usually hate. To my surprise,
it sent shivers through my entire body, practically begging for him. Following his directions wasn’t
objectionable when it would lead to the thing I wanted the most in that moment.
“I will. I promise. Please…I need to…” I felt the blush on my face even if I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t tell him
what I needed while others were watching, and silently begged him not to ask. Fortunately, even as the
heat from his cock tormented me into stillness, he still knew me better than anyone else.
His strokes came faster now as I felt him adjust his weight. The amount of effort it took for him to keep
control of his own arousal impressed me. I could hear it in the rough hoarseness of his voice. “I know,
love. I know. Just relax.”
My mind barely had a chance to respond to the words, which felt inviting and sensual, before I felt the full
weight of him, his cock slamming deep inside me without warning. He grunted in a kind of determined
satisfaction, the only sound that existed other than the deep cry that escaped my lips. There was no more
teasing, no more words as he pounded into the wet folds of my pussy over and over. I felt the restraints
pulling at me, though I was desperate not to move.
The sharp angles of his hipbones hit mine, and the sudden shock of the unusual touch caused every
muscle to tighten. The restraints bit into my skin as my pussy tightened around his cock. I wanted more
than anything to feel the pleasure of him exploding deep inside me, but he’d tested my limits. There was
no turning back as my body fought to cling to him in any way possible, a flood of desperate heat moving
through my body as it claimed satisfaction.
He didn’t slow down, and I was aware of my hair clinging to my forehead and my body craving something
so intense I couldn’t explain it. “That’s it…” I gasped as the power of his cock delivering my climax in
waves that hit over and over made me unaware of the pain of the restraints biting into my flesh. My body
was still contorting in pleasure when he pulled out, disappointment tugging at my heartstrings.
“Everything’s okay, love. I can’t hold on much longer. Eyes closed.” His voice was ragged but reassuring,
and the urge to obey subsided a bit as my climax slowed. I opened my eyes with some effort, just long
enough to see Cassidy on the screen, her body arched and tense and lovely in unabashed need. I could
tell she needed release in the same desperate way my husband did, and my body began to ache again.
She was waiting to come with him, not with me.
The knowledge should have inspired jealousy or anger, but it didn’t. It excited me in a whole new way I
wasn’t about to try to make sense of. My eyes lingered on Cassidy a bit longer before I felt the tip of my
husband’s cock, the way my own wetness mixed with his barely contained arousal as he stroked up and
down the length of my throat. I felt like it was for his benefit and Cassidy’s as much as mine, but I didn’t
mind, and my eyes felt heavy with pleasure and contentment as the lids closed. My pussy somehow still
ached and throbbed, but it was bearable, at least until the mental image of Cassidy watching from the
edge moved through my mind.
“Now, please. Come for me.” I didn’t know which one of them I was murmuring my unedited thoughts to,
but the fire that raged deep within me grew stronger. I enjoyed the power of holding my body as still as I
could as my husband struggled for control, along with Cassidy. Something about it pleased me, even as
my own desire came alive again.
The next syllable hung there on my lips, pushed away by the slow movement of his cock into the wet
entrance of my mouth. It made me recoil at first, the taste of myself on his engorged shaft, but every
thrust filled something deep inside me, a place where desire and love united. I could feel my head arch
back, and the touch of his hand gently pulling my hair stirred a fierce passion. I wasn’t sure why, but I let
my body go still, moaning the satisfaction of the growing heat deep in my core. The thrusts came faster
and faster, and I could feel my pussy dripping with arousal as he pushed the tip of his cock into the back
of my throat.
It was as if I could erupt into spontaneous orgasm without being touched, though I knew it was
impossible. My whole body shook, gasping, panting, and sucking wetly as if in gratitude for something I
didn’t understand. All it would take was a single touch to release me into a world of mind-blowing ecstasy,
but I held still, breathing and shuddering as his groans and grunts became louder and faster. His
excitement was like fuel for my own, and I pictured Cassidy on the screen, the curves of her body reacting
as she watched the explosion that was about to happen.
That thought was enough. As he pulled out of my mouth, the hot and thick ribbons of cum hit my skin and
every nerve ending I was aware I had. The caress of his tip against my cheek along with the excitement
of my own vulnerability sent bursts of light and waves of heat through me until I swore I could feel fingers
pushing deep inside my folds, prolonging the exquisite thing that happened.
Was this what letting go felt like?
The back of my mind held thoughts I’d long had, telling me I should feel demeaned somehow, used for
pleasure or profit or the sheer adventure of it. I didn’t. I felt free and joyful, like a beautiful thing that was
loved all the more for being unafraid.
“That was exquisite, love. I know I’ll never forget it.” My husband’s words were soft and kind through the
panting as he collapsed next to me, spend and dripping with passion as I was. I didn’t even think about
Cassidy or all the rest of them, the reason for the experiment, or if it had been successful.
For the first time in a long time, I felt well and truly loved, satisfied in a way I never knew I needed.
All I had to do was let go.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/oeywhg/bound_massage_mf_voyeur_submission_all_of_the