To My Net Friends
From: SeeShow (Jim)
Subj: For those of you who like to see wife's dominated, this one's
for you. I call it

           ALL OF THE FUN AND NONE OF THE GUILT?

My Catholic background had taught me that sex was bad and that if I
ever indulged myself in it, then I should feel guilty. Whenever I
felt myself getting close to a man and developing a relationship, I
pushed him away, afraid that I'd do something sinful with him.
Stupid, huh? I know it sounds that way in today's enlightened
society, but for me there just was no sex without guilt. Or at least
there wasn't until Karl came into my life. We started dating and
about the third date, I knew Karl was the kind of take charge man
that wasn't going to be satisfied with a good-night kiss or a little
petting. We finished our date at his apartment and after a little
kissing he simply picked me up and carried me into his bedroom. When
I protested about him beginning to remove my cloths, he simply told
me to "Shut-up" and he said that he knew damn well I wanted it as
bad as he did. I explained that no matter how bad I wanted it I just
couldn't do this. With that he removed my panties from my bottom and
stuffed them into my mouth. He told me not to play games with him
and than he tied me up.

I was helpless, I was his captive and I LOVED it. I knew that
whatever he did to me that it wouldn't be MY fault! It gave me a
sexual thrill I had never felt before to be the helpless capture of
a man that intended to use me sexually in any way he wanted without
me being able to do anything about it. I guess there was one thing I
did about it. I climaxed long before Karl even got his manhood into
my virgin pussy.

     After that first B&D experience, Karl and I could never seem to
get enough of each other. I was thrilled to have found the perfect
match a man dominating but sensual, who knew just how far to go, how
much discipline to administer. We began to work out elaborate
fantasies, which, one by one, were realized, much to our mutual
satisfaction. I learned that Bondage and Discipline was not
restricted merely to physical hitting in fact, we seldom practiced
that. Instead, we spent evenings playing out other forms of
discipline. For example, Karl particularly enjoys placing me in
situations I find humiliating. He explains that I am so poised, so
"cool and slick," that it turns him on to see me reduced to "pure
cunt," as he expresses it.

     After about a year of blissful B&D  with Karl we got married
and enjoyed a hell of a honeymoon. But somehow over the next several
months my sexual desires began to wane a bit. I realized that it was
because we were now married and I had no more reason to feel guilt
about sex with Karl. Karl noticed my sexual decline as well and
began to discipline me whenever I was not as sexually charged as he
felt I should be.

 One afternoon, after we'd been married about six months, Karl
seemed particularly anxious to discipline me. We had attended a
party the night before and the host had made a pass at me. Karl
accused me of flirting, which I denied. I knew my protestations of
innocence meant nothing when he got that gleam in his eyes, however.

 In our newly furnished house, the entrance to the bedroom is a
double door. In each corner he has placed a simple ring bolt to
which can be attached chains, ropes, neckties - anything he can use
to bind me. This time, he slowly and elaborately bound me
spread-eagled to each corner by his soft 3/8" nylon ropes. By his
devising, the cords crisscrossed my chest tightly, circled my waist
twice and passed between my legs along my vaginal opening and the
crack of my ass. My breasts were thrust forward and squeezed, and my
mound, bald and shining was continually rubbed by my struggles with
the ropes.

 While I was bound, the doorbell rang. I heard some heated
discussion at the door - and laughter. WE had been having trouble
with our air- conditioning unit and apparently Karl had scheduled
the Heat and Air maintenance man to come that day. The repairman was
in fact a friend of Karl's. I heard the door close and footsteps
approaching. I looked over my shoulder and smiled, expecting to see
my husband on his way to release me. Instead I was confronted by a
rather surprised, thirtyish Irish man with a repair kit in his hand.
Karl was right behind him.

 "Don't worry, " he assured his friend (who I had never met).
''She's an exhibitionist. She loves people to see her this way.
Doesn't she have a beautiful body?" He gently tugged on my nipple as
he spoke as If to illustrate. Calmly he pointed into the bedroom.
"You'll have to climb through the ropes to get to the
air-conditioning unit. Excuse us, dear. Oh, by the way, please tell
Pat everything is really all right and that you do love this sort of
thing, will you, Terry? I don't want him to have me arrested."

 "Oh, no," I choked, then slowly repeated, "it's all right . . I
really love to be tied . . . and to exhibit myself." The truth was
that I had never been put on display like this before. My face and
body were flushed with confusion, but I had become so turned on that
I made Karl's lie a reality. I hung there quietly twisting myself
against the gentle cords while the bewildered man worked on the air
conditioner. Karl quite casually stood by me, watching him. I was
lightly covered with perspiration from the lust that permeated me.
Karl was fingering me, apparently absorbed in the work on the
television. His fingers seared my flesh, sliding along the ropes to
my shiny mons. Both his finger and the rope immediately became slick
with my lubrication and a small moan escaped me. The repairman
nervously glanced at us. "Karl, just as I suspected you just need a
little Freon. You have a very minor leak. I'll be able to have you
fixed in no time. As he finished his sentence he started loading the
freon into the system and added, "It'll just take about twenty
minutes." All the while he was talking he kept his eyes on me and I
could tell he was getting more excited with each passing moment.

 "Take your time," Karl said with a grin. "I'll be back in twenty
minutes. Leave her tied exactly as she is, and don't hurt her. Other
than that, she's completely yours until I return."

 My heart was in my throat with excitement. Karl's friend could
hardly believe his luck. He picked up his tool kit and hurried to
the door where I hung. He seemed nervous, as if he would rush past
me, but stopped short, staring at my straining nipples. Sexual heat
seemed to radiate from my body. Almost reluctantly, he touched my
breasts. I shivered at his touch and threw back my head.

 He put down his repair kit and fondled both my breasts, watching my
face, incredulous that I might be enjoying myself so much. But I
was. My lubrication had made the rope so slick that it was literally
sliding back and forth over me with every move. The sight of his
erection straining the zipper of his trousers turned me on, but it
tortured me that, tied as I was, I could do nothing. Convinced now
that he would be undisturbed, the man grew bold. His hands were
suddenly all over me, squeezing, fondling, probing, racing the clock
against Karl's return. His face registered shock when he felt the
wetness below.

 He could contain himself no longer and unzipped his fly. He rubbed
the mammoth erection against me, squeezing my nipples as if milking
them. I twisted and fought the bindings. The friction was unbearable
He stepped back and began to jerk himself off, his other hand
gripping my crotch, rope and all. I came wildly at his touch. His
erection swelled and fairly glowed with the fire of his passion. I
ached with the need for his raging cock.

 He clambered through the ropes and stood behind me. Without a word,
he spread my quivering asscheeks and plunged his penis into my tight
anus. I had so wet myself and the rope that his member was well-
lubricated .

 I screamed in pleasure. "Fuck me. Yes, give it to my ass, you big
stud!'

 He fucked like a stallion, squeezing my breasts and holding my
waist tightly. I orgasmed twice more as I felt him release his come
deep inside my rectum. Exhausted and spent, I hung in my silken
bindings for several minutes after the repairman left. Karl's grin,
upon his return, made me suspicious. I looked across the bedroom and
noticed that one of the curtains had been set aside so a small
peep-hole was formed for anyone who thought to look through the
window from outside the building.

 "Did you . . . see me?" I gasped.

 "Of course," Karl replied. "You didn't think I'd leave you at the
his mercy without being able to protect you, did you? I told you
that you could trust me." He gestured as if to slap my face, but
instead, caught and held it with both hands, kissing me deeply.

 He sucked my vagina as I hung there before pushing the rope aside
to fuck me. We made love the rest of the afternoon, after he untied
me. Each time seemed better than the last. Moreover, I felt free. At
last the tension and guilt that plagued me all my adult life was
beginning to ease. And with my handsome husband, I have found a way
to relieve it when the old fears recur. Now, I welcome the edge of
fear, the glow of shame, for I now know they will only serve to
heighten my experiences and urge me to seek more. I truly understand
now how to have my fun, even with the guilt!