Victim of my Secretary Wife

Victim of my Secretary Wife

Copyright Oggbashan February 2020

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

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I was working hard to excite my wife. My backside and feet were pressed against the modesty board of her desk. I was in darkness shrouded inside her ankle length denim skirt and tiered cotton petticoat with my tongue buried in her pussy. I could hear her panting above me as she reached yet another orgasm. Until she was satisfied I was trapped. I couldn't lift her skirt off me because her knees were pressed against the underside of her desk. I couldn't get out because her chair was in the way and her legs were clamped around her head.

The phone rang. She relaxed her legs so I could pull my head away slightly. I heard her answer the caller.

"I'm sorry, the manager is engaged until two o'clock. Could you ring back after then? Thank you."

She put the phone down.

"OK, Roger. Get busy again,"

Her hands gripped my head through the skirt and petticoat, forcing my face back between her legs. I had to work hard to bring her back to her peak before she eventually relaxed, moved her chair back and uncovered me. I crawled out from under her desk. She kissed me.

"We're out of time. But you can make up for it tonight." Sarah said.

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My secretary was on maternity leave. She expected to be back in a fortnight's time when the new baby would be looked after by the grandparents. Until a week ago I had a temporary secretary but her fiancée had taken her to Australia to marry where his parents lived. I needed a secretary for three weeks so I asked my wife, Sarah. She was reluctant but agreed with conditions. The first condition was that she should only work from 9.30 to 2.30 so she could do the school run with our grandson. The second was that from 1.30 to 2 I should be 'engaged' because she wanted me licking her pussy for that half hour. The third was that she should restrain me in cross-dressed bondage at least three evenings a week. The last was easiest because I enjoyed that but Sarah could sometimes make my bondage longer and stricter than I really liked. Once a week was enough for my sexual satisfaction but Sarah enjoyed making me her victim.

I was desperate. I couldn't really carry out my role as factory manager without a secretary and it would take a week or more to find another temp. I had to agree to Sarah's conditions. The hours of work were easy to arrange. The pussy licking was demanding and Sarah enjoyed showing me that she was in control. If I wasn't confined inside her skirt she might tie my hands and legs to the foot rail of her desk. Like that I would fall flat on my face unless my head was pushed against her cleft.

In the evenings Sarah might make me wear a tight shift dress or a skirt and top before tying my legs and wrists. She would push my head up inside her skirt and smother me, or wrap her arms around my head to pull it into her cleavage. We had missed several nights of cross-dressed bondage because we had been out to social occasions. Sarah had said she wanted something special tonight to compensate. I was worried what she might have in mind.

After the evening meal Sarah said that while I was restrained she wanted to catch up on her favourite soap programme she had missed. I didn't appreciate just how long that would be.

"I think that your bondage tonight will be wedding-themed. Strip to your boxers, Roger."

I did, while she went to the spare bedroom's wardrobe to fetch whet she needed. Did that mean her wedding dress that she could no longer wear because she had lost so much weight over the last thirty years?"

She came back with a very large carrier bag that was bulging.

"You will need a condom," she announced.

I was disappointed because that meant my bondage would not end, as it usually did, with Sarah riding me to ejaculation. Using a condom meant that she expected me to come into my pants. I put a condom on and pulled my boxers back up.

Sarah pulled a floor-length maxi slip down over me. It splayed around my feet because she would have worn it with high heels. She produced my favourite cross-dressed bondage item -- her wedding corselette. She wrapped it around me with my arms inside before closing the front zip. She adjusted the wide shoulder straps, necessary when she married to hold up her then very large breasts but now it had breast forms padding out the bra cups. Once she had closed the zip my arms were tightly held by my sides despite the open bottom. I could wriggle my fingers but I couldn't escape from inside that control garment. It had a high front and back which meant that the wedding dress had to have had a high neckline.

Last time she had confined me in that corselette, about a year ago, I had complained that the suspender straps dug into my legs. She had removed them but had sewn an open-bottom girdle, also from the time she was much heavier, below the lower edge of the corselette. That girdle extended the tight control from just below my crotch to an inch above my knees, forcing my thighs together.

She knelt down and I had to lift my legs one by one, as she pulled a tight-fitting mermaid petticoat up my legs. It clamped my legs together from my crotch to just above my ankles where it spread in a froth of frills. She kept pulling it up until the elastic waistband was just below the padded bra. Such limited movement as I had left for my arms was now gone, smothered by the mermaid petticoat.

Sarah lifted her wedding dress over my head. It was a tight sheath, or rather it had been when she married, but far too loose for her now. It was tight on me as she eased the back zip up to the high neck. I was a helpless column of white satin from my neck to my feet. She supported me as she moved me back to suit on the front edge of a relining armchair. As I bent my legs, the mermaid petticoat tightened even more below my knees.

"You're nearly done, Roger," Sarah said, "Or not done -- a completely helpless prisoner in my wedding clothes. A couple more things then I can get ready."

She reached under her floor length denim skirt and pulled her cotton panties down and off. She scrunched them up and pushed them into my mouth, still warm from her. She reached back into the carrier bag and produced something I thought she had thrown away years ago -- a large bra with moulded cups, now far too large for her reduced size breasts. She covered my whole face with one of the cups before she tied it around my head with the bra straps. Now I couldn't see, blindfolded by her bra, nor could I speak, gagged with her panties held inside my mouth by the bra cup. I was breathing through the material which was still strongly scented by Sarah and her favourite perfume.

"You are ready. I'm not."

I heard her take her skirt and top off, or I assume that it what I heard.

"Remember my bridesmaid Rachel?" Sarah asked.

As I was gagged I couldn't answer.

"I am going to wear her bridesmaid dress. If you remember, Rachel was as large as I was then. Like me, she isn't now, so I still have her bridesmaid dress -- a pastel blue sheath that had a fitted bust and flared from below the bust line. It fitted Rachel then. At the time I could have worn it too. Now it would be too large for either of us but I can use it now -- for you."

I didn't understand what Sarah meant. She turned the television on.

She climbed on to the armchair behind me before pulling the skirt of Rachel's dress down to cover me. She eased the seam below the bust under my chin and then struggled to close the short back zip. My head was inside the bust of Rachel's dress and resting between Sarah's breasts.

"I'll just close the side zips..."

There were zips on either side of the fitted bust. Sarah tugged at them, once closed my bra covered face was tightly held. I couldn't move down because the lower seam was clamped around my neck. I couldn't move up because the back zip had tightened the upper part up to the high neck.

"Just relax and enjoy," Sarah said. "You aren't going anywhere. You can't. You are tightly enveloped in my wedding dress and Rachel's bridesmaid dress has surrounded and clamped your head into my cleavage. But I forgot to tell you. Catching up with the soap means four episodes, each half an hour long. You are my prisoner for two hours."

Despite myself I felt my ejaculation spurt into the condom. Sarah had made me her helpless victim. She selected the catch up television before relining the chair slightly forcing my head and body to follow her movement.

From time to time over the next two hours Sarah's hands sometimes smothered me through Rachel's bodice and the moulded bra. Each time, as she starved me of breath I felt my erection return. By the time Sarah had watched all four episodes I had come twice more into the condom.

At the end she unfastened Rachel's dress but left me restrained inside her wedding dress as she helped me to hobble upstairs to bed. She took the bra cup of my face, pulled her sodden panties out, and kissed me before gaging me with a naked breast. It might not be as large as it was when we married but it is enough to fill my mouth completely. It was another hour before she relented and released me from her bondage. I showered and shaved before she rode me until I went to sleep, spent and grateful.

She has promised some more bondage tomorrow night while she watches the current soap episode. I wonder how I will be tied up then?

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