Recycler

I am a long-time reader, first time contributor.  I have spent a great deal of time reading the stories authored by others on your site.  Many a night has seen me "up" until the wee hours of the morning "Shaking hands with Mr. Johnson" to your works and the works of Jenny, Insider, and all the others.  I myself have never had much talent for writing, especially anything fictional.  Truth is until recently I have never had an experience worthy of the pages of you web-site, but recently that has all changed.  My oh my, how it has all changed.  And it all changed the day I forgot to erase my History off of the internet browser (which I have done everyday since I got plugged in) and caught my wife reading through the Plaza.

I have been married to my wife for about 5 years.  I have always been up front with her about my eccentric sexual orientation.  Though it seemed she shared none of those desires, she has always been accepting of them in me.  I have always known that I desire to submit to a woman fully.  I always hoped my marriage license would more signify a certificate of ownership.  I adore my wife, always have.  She is very strong and has a unique "I don't give a shit" attitude that really made her appealing to me.  All of that having been said, she had never shown much of a propensity for domination over me.  She had never quite managed to quell my yearning for release through submission.

Over the years however, she tried to play her role in my perversion.  Admittedly that failure is as much mine as it is hers.  The part is not an easy one to play.  I am one of those sorts who longs for submission - but clings fiercely to control.  Periodically we would "play" with bondage.  Some of those times I would be tied up or in hand cuffs, to a pole or in a chair.  More times than not, however, it would be me tied up on the bed, on my back.  Tied up in ways I always knew I could escape whenever I wanted.  While tied up, she would ride my face and I would service her for as long as she could stand it.  It was far from my fantasy, but it seemed the best I could hope for.  It would usually end with disappointment on my face, or smart ass remarks made by me.  Or me showing off how easy I could escape her attempts to subdue me.  Either way it usually ended with hurt feelings or angry words.  My knack for clinging to control, and mounting sexual frustration was really causing a problem in our otherwise happy marriage.  I can be quite an "ass".

A couple of times while my wife was riding my face getting off really hard she pissed when she climaxed.  The "ass" really came out in me those times.  I let her have it pretty good as I easily escaped her "half-hearted" bondage.   The last time she pissed on me we really fought.  As the fight escalated to a peak she screamed at me, "We will never do this shit again, you ass-hole".  That said and 20 more minutes of arguing later, I was cut off from any and all B&D.  Did I mention that I can be an "ass"? 

That brings me back to the day I forgot to erase my history of the internet browser.  I walk into the den and there she is, on the computer.  You know that feeling you get when you realize that you have made a mistake, and it is about to be uncovered?  In an instant I knew that she was reading Gromet, before I even saw the computer screen.  Sure enough, as I walked over I saw her looking at a page from the Mummification Gallery.

"Well I guess you have found other ways to satisfy those urges of yours!"  I just hung my head.

"Thinking of all the jerking off you've been doing right here in our den just makes me sick"

"What choice do I have", I said.  "The urges haven't just gone away in the last 6 months you've refused to participate".

She got up and left the room.  There was nothing more said about it.  I knew, as every married man does, that I would pay.  I had no idea how payment would be exacted - but I knew it was coming.

When I got home from work the next day - payment was exacted with interest.

I walked into the house as usual.  I walked to hang my coat in the hall closet.  As I reached for the hanger, my wife rushed up behind me and pushed me face first into the wall.  In an instant, she secured my hands behind my back with handcuffs.  I started to protest, but before I could think to speak she took a wide belt of mine and pushed it in my mouth and pulled it tight around my head forcing my mouth open.  I still remember being dumbfounded at the speed and relative ease with which she was moving to overtake me.  Next thing I know she whirls me around and I catch a glimpse of her.  She is in a shiny black vinyl catsuit I had never seen before.  She looked HOT!  I don't only mean that she looked really sexy, she did, but she looked like she could kill me.  I was turned on, really turned on.  I don't know whether it was the very sexy apparel she was in, the fact that she was more or less beating the shit out of me, or that evil look on her face, but I was aroused like never before.  I got only a brief gaze at her.  As she turned me around towards her, she slipped a flannel pillow case over my head and all was dark. 

She did not speak.  She grabbed the handcuffs and jerked them up, pulling my arms up with them painfully.  She led me through the house to the basement door, and we descended.

Once in the basement she moved me around for a moment then she let go of my handcuffs.  It was the one and only chance she gave me where I could have possibly escaped.  Aroused and a bit confused, I did not take it.  Less than a second later, I could hear and feel my ankles being locked, spread apart about 3 feet, into 2 sets of handcuffs.  Then pressure returned to my wrists, something was attached to the handcuffs then they were pulled up sharply.  As my wrists went higher I was forced to bend slightly at the waist.  It was not at all comfortable, and I started to moan.  She did not speak.

The next sensation I felt I recognized as saran wrap being wrapped around my legs.  First around the left and then the right, saran wrap was applied from my groin to my ankles.  I heard the sound of duct tape being pulled away from itself, and felt it being applied to my legs.  I arrogantly thought to myself "She's going to mummify me - how cute".  It was very exciting, but years of the relative failure of her attempts to subdue me had taught me not to take anything she did to me very seriously.  I didn't realize I was about to learn a very harsh lesson.

She wrapped both of my legs separately in the duct tape from ankle to groin.  She moved on to my torso wrapping it first in saran wrap then quite tightly in duct tape.  She moved on to my arms, again wrapping each of them in saran wrap - then going over it in duct tape.  She skipped over my wrists, because of the handcuffs, but wrapped my hands in duct tape mittens.  I was so aroused I was able to block out the intense pain I was feeling in my arms.  By this point my arms had been stretched in suspension for about 30 minutes.

She released one of my legs from the handcuffs holding them apart.  She pushed it over to join the other one, stuffed a cushion between my knees and ankles and taped my legs together.  She started at the ankles and wrapped them very tightly together all the way to my knees.  The other handcuff was then removed from my other ankle.  She, at long last, released the handcuffs from suspension, and I was able to stand up straight.  She very quickly wrapped tape around both of my wrists pulling them tightly to my sides.  She did the same around my elbows, locking them very snuggly against my torso.  I was beginning to recognize that this mummification wrap was very secure.  Not even mummified yet, I was not able to move very much at all.  Escape was certainly impossible.

She began running the tape from below the back of my knees all the way up my body over my shoulders.  She pulled it down tightly over my shoulders (very tightly actually) and continued all the way down to below my kneecaps.  She continued to do this 5 or six times over each shoulder until tape was covering all of them and pulling me into a slight slouch.  She went back to my ankles and started wrapping me.  She wrapped all the way up to my cock then skipped over to just above my cock and continued all the way up to my shoulders.  Testing the limits of my bondage, I knew I was totally incapacitated.  I couldn't budge a finger.  The effect on me was intoxicating.  I was in a bondage bliss I had never experienced before.  My arousal was heightened further when the pillowcase was removed from my head and I got a look at her handiwork.  From ankles to shoulders I was a brilliant red mummy, being watched over by a beautiful dominatrix in black vinyl still with a very severe look on her face.  I attempted to speak, even with the belt still gagging me.  Without saying a word, she grabbed my scrotum, and squeezed my balls very hard.  I screamed through the gag - she looked into my eyes and said her first words since this began, "Don't you dare say a word!"  I got the message, and started to get a little concerned.  In a normal reaction to having pain inflicted to your balls - I instantly struggled hard to move to no avail.  I was stuck.  I was at her mercy, and I wasn't at all convinced that she had any this day.

Calming down slightly, I did scan the room.  I saw our inflatable air mattress laid out on the floor.  I saw new and empty rolls of duct tape all around.  I also recognized an item called a CPR microshield.  It is a plastic tube with a flange around it.  It is used to provide a sanitary means to give people mouth to mouth resuscitation.  Basically you can blow into it, but the victim can't blow out through it. Before I could study the scene further, my wife applied large rectangular band-aids over my eyes rendering me sightless again.  She stuffed wax ear plugs into my ears.  Saran wrap was layered over my head and hair.  She pushed the CPR microshield into my mouth and taped it securely in one fluid motion.  She wrapped around the plastic tube several times very tightly.  She then wrapped the rest of my head, leaving my only my nose uncovered.  She also wrapped around my neck and up and around my chin pulling it tightly to the top of my head so my mouth could not open at all.  I was now encased in duct tape from head to ankle - totally helpless, completely aroused.

Without saying a word she gave me an unceremonious shove backwards.  I fell, stiff as a board, onto the air mattress.  I was scared shitless.  Again, as a terror reaction, I struggled against my bonds, I was helpless.  She lifted my legs and wrapped the tape around my feet until no skin was exposed except for the raging hard-on being completely ignored.  She pounced on the air mattress and I felt pressure around my mouth.  I heard her using the scissors in the hole of the CPR shield.  After relying on only my nose for breathing, it was nice to be able to breathe through my mouth.  Check that, I could inhale through my mouth, but no matter how hard I tried I could not exhale.  There was more pressure around my mouth, followed by more tape from my mouth to around my head.  I wasn't sure what that was about.  Then for a few seconds there was nothing.  I could almost hear her standing there thinking.  I could almost see the look of satisfaction on her face.  The next sensation I remember is her grabbing hold of my erect penis.  It almost went off right there.  I was very near orgasm.  Then without warning, a very sharp, very intense pain grew in my cock.  I screamed something unintelligible.  "What the fuck is that", was the only thought in my head.  I went from Kielbasa to Vienna Sausage in an instant.  The pain continued and increased.  It felt like the pain was inside my penis, how could that be?  Then it hit me, "Oh Fuck, a catheter".

"What the fuck is she doing?" I thought as I bucked with all my might.  But I was powerless and barely moved at all.  I was instantly, and for the first time, terrified.  Seemed like she fiddled with that catheter forever, but she finally finished and the pain subsided a bit and was replaced with a strong urge to piss.  Luckily the urge to piss too, faded after a bit.  I had never been catheterized before. I had heard how painful it was from others, but I suspect having an amateur place it hurt much more than having a nurse do it.
 

"Can you hear me?" she asked.  I gave an affirming grunt and shook my head all that I could.

"Good, then you better hear this". 

"For over 5 years our sex life has revolved around these things you want and claim you need". 

"You are helpless now aren't you?" I nodded best I could. 

"All these years it has been all about you, while you have denied me what I really want.  I hope you are happy now because that all changes today and it changes for good". 

"You are getting what you want right now, and I'm about to get what I want right now too!"  I felt some tugging at my penis and some pressure at my mouth.  Then there was a dripping into my mouth. 

"Oh FUCK, its piss!"  It was my piss to be exact, running from the catheter into my mouth.  My first instinct was to spit it out, but that damn CPR shield wouldn't allow it.  My mouth was filling up and I had no alternative other than to swallow it, which I did in order to breathe.  I struggled in vain against the tape which held me motionless and I learned something very important.  As I tightened up my muscles to attempt to escape more piss flowed into my mouth.  It didn't take long at all to decide to stop struggling and slow down the flow of urine into my mouth.

"All the times I tried to give you what you wanted, and you treated me like shit, they are all coming back to bite you today". 

"The fits you threw when I attempted to get what I wanted". 

"That's right, all those times you thought I pissed in your mouth accidentally, I did it on purpose. I like pissing on you, and I love the idea of you drinking my piss." 

"From this day forward you are going to do just that, and you'll do it as often as I want."  With that, I felt her stepping onto the mattress and moving towards my head.  Moments later a large rush of piss entered my mouth, she was pissing into a funnel, into my mouth, and she was pissing hard.  With no other option, I swallowed it all.  Every time I tensed up to try and fight, the flow of piss from my own bladder increased.  I had to lay there and take it passively.  It felt like the ultimate submission.  I was terrified.  It was the feeling I had waited a long, long time for.  It was heaven and at the same time my darkest hell.  I was a confused mess of arousal, fear, and pain.

"I hope you are comfortable you little bitch! You're gonna be lying here for a good long while continuously pissing into your own mouth. You are gonna be here until I am sure you are used to the taste. You are, for all intents and purposes, a piss recycling machine. I will be pissing into your mouth eventually filling your bladder and the only place your bladder will empty is into your own mouth."  Then she got up and left.  I was left there with the steady dripping of piss into my mouth.  Every so often, she would come downstairs.  When the flow from my bladder was slowing down she would "prime the pump" by pissing more into the funnel.  I was forced to drink a lot of piss, both hers and mine, and I suppose hers that was turned into mine. 

I don't know how long I was in my predicament, before she offered to let me out, but it was a long time.  My freedom would only come at an all too familiar cost however.  "I will let you out, under one condition", she said, "I will cut your head out, you must willingly open your mouth and drink my piss. You must not spill a drop or I'll simply rewrap your head and leave you longer".  I was so sore.  Every muscle in my body ached.  I really couldn't take anymore.  I shook my head in agreement.  She cut my head out and squatted over my face.  Like a baby bird waiting to be fed I opened my mouth and gulped down all the fluid that fell.  Like I said, it was the ultimate submission.

My life is different today than it was before.  I am happily devoted to my wife in a totally new way.  I have submitted to the point that quite often she simply takes me with her to the toilet where I lay my head back over it and open wide.  Believe you me, I hate piss.  I really, really hate it.  However, I have fallen in love with the look on my wife's face after I drink for her.  Submission to her is both my blessing and my curse, but I wouldn't have it any other way.  Believe it or not, the "ass" in me died for the most part the day she turned me into a piss recycling machine.  I am very lucky.

I have sent the photos she took of the experience.  I never get tired of looking at them - I hope your visitors will enjoy them as well.

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14.01.04