The Beloved Toy

I squirmed with excitement as we pulled up to the airport; I was about to find out where my amazing husband was taking me for our 15th anniversary. He had promised something extra special and told me it would be an international destination, but nothing else. Still, that told me enough: International meant we would be visiting a BDSM club or event.

We'd done this a handful times before, choosing an international vacation destination based on the local S&M scene; we'd visited everything from play nights at small clubs to massive fetish parties with thousands of attendees and a strictly enforced dress code of leather and latex. We couldn't risk visiting such places anywhere near home, both for fear of recognition, and for fear of becoming addicted to the intoxication of those dark, erotic places. Places where people were free to indulge in their most hedonistic desires, and where it was considered perfectly acceptable to lose yourself in mindless lust....

I adored those places, although my husband and I were primarily voyeurs and exhibitionists. I got wet watching masters dominate their subs, and nothing pleased me more than being admired while my husband-my master- used me for his pleasure. Occasionally he would even let them touch me; most men enjoy fondling my large breasts, sliding their hand down along the curve of my trim waist to cup my mound... sliding a finger into my wet slit when my master gives the nod of approval, moaning when I borrow some of my own wetness and grasp their cock at His command... thrusting their fingers into my hungry cunt in time with my fist pumping their cock, my thumb swirling around its head...

It's so easy to get caught up in the heat of the moment, but by mutual agreement, we've never gone further than that. We're not sure we're ready, or that we actually want to see each other with anyone else. Well, I'm not. He insists that he would love to see me looking like a spit roast, mouth stuffed with one cock and pussy filled with another. I'm afraid that he THINKS he wants that, but wouldn't be able to look at me the same afterwards. What would he do if later he has a flashback while we are making love at home, and is reminded that another man's cock was in this pussy? HIS pussy? What if he looks at me and still sees another man fucking my face? How could he ever love me after that? And anyways, I've never much enjoyed sucking cock.

Still, I have to admit I do fantasize about it all the time. Sucking cock, being spit roasted between two men... them filling both my holes with cum, the drained members being pulled out only to be replaced by new, fresh hard cocks, filling me again and again until my holes are overflowing with seed.... But no, the truth is that some things are better left as fantasies.

Still, my husband is the most clever lover, and has always been able to find creative ways to indulge both our fantasies. When he feels like fantasizing about a train of men sating themselves in this tight little pussy, he'll often blindfold me, and insert either a ring gag or a penis gag to help remind me that in this moment I am nothing but a set of holes made for cocks... then he'll put a cock ring on himself so he can last as long as possible. He'll choose a position that strikes his fancy, and then he selects a rhythm; fucking me slow, or fast, or holding still and making me ride his cock seductively, or slapping my ass to make me bounce on it like a pogo stick... so many options to choose from.

My pussy always gets soaked at the way he just uses me for his own pleasure, and when I feel him shudder, spending himself in ecstasy, I can't help but lose myself in my own orgasm. But then he'll pull his still-hard cock out and lay two affectionate slaps across my ass before I hear his softly retreating steps. Then he'll return as a "second man" coming to fuck me in a new position and rhythm, until he "cums" again, giving me two more slaps on the ass, signaling he's done with me and "another man" will be coming to use me soon. The "third man" will fuck me in an entirely different way, as will the "fourth", and so on until he allows his lust to be sated. He's gotten so good at the game that often I can hardly tell the difference between when he really cums and when he's faking, and he can make the game last all day, giving us both multiple releases and leaving me exhausted, limp and pleasantly sore...

Anyways, I've gotten off track again. We've arrived at the airport and I still don't have a clue where we are going. He handled all the packing, and checked us in and got our tickets, neatly prolonging the reveal. Once through TSA, I look to him and eagerly ask, "Which gate?"

He just laughs, leading me over to a corner near the restrooms with a few empty seats. "Best go to the bathroom before we get on the plane," He instructs with an oddly smug smile. He's not wrong, so I go take care of business, freshen up and wash my hands before rejoining him.

"Before we go any further, I want you to put these in," he commands, putting a small gift bag in my hand. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I open the bag with curiosity and excited apprehension, wondering what he could want me to put in where.... My excitement turns to confusion as I pull out the contents and look at him quizzically, asking, "Umm, earphones and contact lenses?"

He chuckles, but just repeats, "Put them in." I put in the first contact, blinking a few times to get it seated right. "What the...?" I ask, waving a hand in front of my eye. I can just barely see its blurry outline. I reach up to take the defective contact out, but my husband stays my hand, saying, "Don't worry, that's how it's supposed to be; these contacts are meant to impair your vision so you can see just enough to walk, but no details. Put the other one in."

Well, I never expected that out of my husband! I'm very surprised, and very, very turned on. I put the other contact in, and now I can only see vague, shadowy shapes. I proceed to insert the earplugs next, shivering when He reaches over to turn them on and my world goes silent.

"Trust me," I hear him say through the headphones. "You're going to enjoy this. Now, take my arm and I'll lead you to paradise..." I slip my hand through the crook of his arm and let him lead me on toward our gate. I can see just enough to avoid hitting anything, but I doubt I could navigate more than a straight line on my own. I certainly can't make out any gate numbers or information; I can barely distinguish the monitor from the wall. The noise cancelling headphones ensure that the only thing I can hear is my husband speaking through the app they are connected to.

We don't have long to wait before boarding starts, and my husband is the picture of gentlemanly courtesy: guiding me into the line, handing the gate attendant our passports, helping me to my seat. I try to act normally; careful not to speak too loud due to the earphones, and trying not to shift my blinded eyes crazily from side to side, while also trying not to stare rudely at all the people I can't see... Eventually, I realize I'm overthinking it; most likely, anyone that sees me will simply assume I'm actually blind. Once I'm buckled, I ask my husband if I can take the contacts and earphones out now that we are on the plane, but he tells me he doesn't want to spoil it by letting me hear the announcements, or see the flight information on the tv screens. Instead, he tells me I can enjoy listening to some "educational content," and turns on a steady stream of smut and audio erotica for the duration of the flight. Blinded as I am, my mind creates the most detailed visuals of everything I'm hearing, and soon my panties are soaked through.

I don't honestly know how long the flight is, as I doze on and off between listening to my smut, but I know it was long enough that I had to go to the bathroom twice. Fortunately, the restroom is only three rows away, so I am able to manage on my own even with the inhibiting contacts. Even after we arrive, I'm not allowed to remove them; I'm kept blind and deaf for the duration of the car ride, all the way to where we'll be staying for the week. I think we must be in a larger city because we've arrived at night and I can see a profusion of lights outside the cab. We stop somewhere that seems to have a lot of red neon lights, and my husband leads me inside. We pause and I can't tell if he's checking his phone, or perhaps we're in front of a check-in desk... after a few minutes, he leads me down a hallway, and then down a set of stairs to a dark corridor where I can barely make out anything.

"Almost there," he murmurs the assurance in my ear before opening the door. Once inside, he carefully removes my earphones and finally gives me permission to remove the blinding contacts. I do so without looking up, shivering in anticipation of learning where he's brought me. I look up and meet his eyes before looking around at our surroundings.

We are in BDSM heaven; a three room suite, complete with an assortment of fetish equipment and toys. The first room is a tastefully appointed bedroom, equipped with luxuries such as a four poster bed with built-in stocks and chains, and a mirrored ceiling. The second is an open concept kitchen and living room, and it looks nearly normal, except I have a strange sense that this room is hiding some secrets too... the third room is a full on dungeon; everything is covered in leather or latex, and there is a variety of equipment I've only seen in pornos. I suck in a breath in giddy excitement, turning back to my husband.

"This is where we'll be staying," he informs me, his voice gone husky. "I want to make you my toy for the week. If you consent, of course?" My mouth went dry as I nodded my assent. "Good," he continued, "you will not be leaving this room, except on the last night of our stay, when I have something special planned for you. Enjoy your freedom tonight, we'll begin our game in the morning."

And so we commenced our vacation with a shower and room service. He held me and kissed me and murmured sweet nothings as we watched a romantic movie. His promise of turning me into a toy was making me so horny I couldn't help but nibble his ear and try to tease him into ravishing me, but he only laughed at my efforts and held me tighter, telling me to be patient while he continued to stroke me like a beloved pet.

God, I can't wait until morning....

To Be Continued.