Brad sat quietly as the car zoomed through traffic. He felt only the
absurdity of his situation. Did the passengers in the other cars on the busy
highway know what was going on inside this small red convertible? Did those
people who were going about their normal business understand what she had
done to him that morning? Could anyone guess that inside this tiny
automobile there was a relationship undergoing permanent, unyielding and
undeniable change? Were they able to see that under these ridiculous flimsy
pants he was wearing nothing at all?

The clothes themselves were as ingenious as they were dangerous, Brad
thought. After a particularly harrowing shift at the hospital replete with
lifesaving surgery juxtaposed with minor scrapes to sew, Brad trudged home
looking forward to being with her, satisfying himself with her, and enjoying
the sleep of the deserved. He wanted to hold her next to him, smell her
hair, fondle her breasts, lay in their huge bed and forget the troubles of
his world for 36 wonderful hours. She would bring him coffee, like she
always did, when he woke in the morning and he might return the favor by
bringing her to orgasm once or maybe twice as the sun flicked through the
blinds. He wasn't sure if he liked her moaning or her whole-body tension
more. But he always loved to watch her come. She was, by far, the best lover
he had ever known. That, along with her strong will and great mind, was the
reason he married her.

When he managed the key into the lock in the dark, she surprised him by
flinging open the door and appearing in front of his grateful eyes in a
leather ensemble that knocked him out before he could put down his
briefcase. Shopping always made her happy and this time, he considered
whatever she put on his charge card as money well spent. Her hair gleamed as
it cascaded on her shoulders. Her firm breasts were accentuated as they
peeked out of the leather bustier she had laced so tightly up her
midsection. Long legs descended from the leather shorts that barely covered
her behind and ended in tall black high heels that overpowered him with
their sensation. Metal rings dotted her outfit and chains hung solidly from
the loops. His first reaction was surprise; his second was an instantaneous
erection that drew his dirty green hospital scrubs well away from his body.
Blown away by her costume, Brad wanted her more than he wanted sleep.

The young surgeon never saw the crop that was gripped tightly in her right
hand lower itself to his stiff erection. His ears heard the sound of
swishing leather but his eyes could not take in the message that eerie sound
conveyed. One whomp on his rigid penis brought him firmly into reality--her
new reality--that would bring an astounding change to both their lives. He
cried out as much in shock and surprise as in pain. She ignored the
unwelcome noise.

"You're late," she admonished him as his mother had when he was just a boy
and missed yet another family dinner because he was "out" with his friends
and lost track of time. "I told you to be here an hour ago." Her jaw was set
and her eyes flashed anger.

"What the hell?" he began but never finished. She was too quick for him and
grabbed his briefcase, tossed it on the floor, and went after his green
shirt. Scooping it quickly from his body, she unlaced the single tie that
held his pants closed. They fell silently around his ankles and exposed a
mass of curly dark hair that surrounded his ramrod organ.

"No panties, dear?" she quizzed him sarcastically. He stood naked,
embarrassed yet strangely excited in the foyer as she toyed with the
ringlets of hair that circled his pubis. Silently but assertively, she
grabbed a handful.

"I thought I told you to wear underwear, dear," she continued as he stood
helplessly under her hand. "This is mine," she informed him as she cupped
his inflexible testicles and penis with one hand and waved the crop
menacingly with the other. "They are to be displayed only for me," she
finished. Brad stood immobile in an eerie mixture of horror and silence. His
organ oozed clear fluid right into her hand. Naked and degraded, Brad could
offer no excuses, no apologies and no words at all that could respond to her
devilish power.

Her perfume filled his nostrils and he was dizzy from her aroma. Wanting her
even more, he decided to play along with her performance, knowing that he
would soon get some action and then fall into a peaceful sleep. Her voice
betrayed his composure as she led him across the living room into the
bedroom. With his green pants hopelessly tangled around his ankles, Brad
managed only short steps and practically ran to keep up with her long
strides. With his maleness cupped tightly in her fist, she stood him next to
the hot tub which was filled with steamy water. The jets were on low speed
and the small floating candles danced in circles in a sensual rhythm. She
rubbed his juice all over the shaft and Brad worried that he would explode
right there in her hand.

Her eyes told him that she wanted him in the tub and he wondered for a
moment if he should help her out of the leather things so they could enjoy
their bath. Reaching out to undo her lacings, he felt her pull sharply on
the package in her hand and raise him to his toes to alleviate the pain.
Apparently, she didn't want his help. Apparently, he was to take this bath
by himself. Full of wonder mixed with uncanny sensuality, Brad stepped out
of his dragging greens and entered the deep tub.

"If you're going to show yourself off to everyone in the locker room, you
should at least show off your best," she answered his unspoken question with
a riddle. As he sat in the swirling waters, he felt the sting of unknown oil
surround his skin. His strong penis tingled defiantly and his dangling balls
itched from the liquid. "I want you to let me see you completely," she
continued. "The curly hair comes off!" Her tone was a command, not a
request.

His skin began to burn as she tossed him a razor and shaving cream. He knew
exactly what she wanted and his exhausted mind was too tired to rebel.
Gazing up at her only once, he waited a moment and began rubbing the cream
into his dark hair. Holding the razor above his creamy skin, he lowered it
and shaved the first strip clean. She smiled.

Their evening unfolded as no other had done before. Watching him intently as
he cleaned his pubic hair, she pointed to one spot, then another, and
instructed him to clean himself thoroughly. The swirling waters rinsed him
and she lowered her left hand between his legs and pulled the dark hair that
decorated the space between his cheeks. "This goes, too," she added, and
took his genital package one more time in her hand, pulled up and left, and
turned the surprised man over onto his hands and knees in the tub. He felt
the cream enter his asscheeks and the razor swipe the region bare. The
tingling oil excited his nude skin and his eyes flashed with expectation.
Her reaction was as unexpected as it was clear.

"You disobeyed me once tonight by not wearing panties under your greens,"
she intoned. "I want you to think about what you did wrong tonight.
Tomorrow, I'll take you shopping for new panties...ones you will not forget
to wear in the operating room. Ones the others will certainly see in the
future. Ones that will remind you that these are mine!" She ended abruptly
and just as abruptly took his balls and cock into her firm grip once again.
The combination of torrid oil and her firm grip on his newly nude skin
overpowered him and Brad, for the first time since he could remember, shot
straight up into the air and came to completion squarely in her hand. The
crop rang down on his errant penis.

"How dare you?" she demanded. "How could you even think of doing such a
thing without consulting me first?" Her question left him no room for an
answer which was just as well, Brad thought, because he had none to offer.
"You will come only when I instruct you to come. You will come only when I
allow it!" With that, she turned and exited the bathroom. Soaking his
exhausted organ in the prickly water, Brad heard both the leather garments
hit the floor and the sound of the bed covers being pulled back. She had
gone to bed without him. Tonight he would not hold her, smell her hair,
fondle her breasts, or sleep with her in his arms. Tonight would be the
first night of many that Brad would know what it was to disappoint her and
that feeling would haunt him for eternity.

Brad laid his aching body in bed and consoled himself by fondling his
tortured mind. With his emotions wrenching inside his head, the young
surgeon considered his alternatives. Choices--alternatives--were the stuff
of Brad's psyche. He always laid out his options before making any decision.
Medical school: to go north and ski, or go south and surf? Residency: to the
big east coast hospital and enjoy the city nightlife or west to see movie
stars and lay out in the California sun? Marriage: the one with the huge
breasts but no ambition or the one with the insatiable sex drive and a mind
that constantly, like tonight, astounded him? His choices were always
weighed carefully one against the other. This night, his choices were not so
apparent. His wife had changed the rules and he was powerless to understand
them, list his alternatives or make an intelligent decision. Stretching back
on the silky satin sheets, Brad tossed and turned as he considered his new,
impotent decision-making ability.

He must have fallen asleep, although he didn't know when, because he
recalled only waking up and feeling an urgent need to go to the bathroom. As
he threw back the layers of covers and tried to stand up, he recalled the
unusual evening his wife had subjected him to and discovered, to his
surprise, that his left leg would not lift from the bed. With his sleepy
eyes having trouble adjusting to the light, Brad planted his right foot
firmly on the carpet and pushed hard but the left leg had a mind of its own.
Before his vision could focus, Brad heard his wife's voice from kitchen.

"Don't bother struggling, dear," she began, "because you're clamped tightly
to the footboard. You're not going anywhere except where I say," she
finished.

"What the hell is going on?" he demanded in his most professional
doctor-voice that he could muster after an evening like he had. Waiting
silently for her reply, he refused to budge his right leg from the floor and
attempted literally to will his left leg to join it. His ears picked up the
sounds of his wife's footsteps approaching the bedroom.

"We're going shopping today," she informed the surprised surgeon. "Remember,
you need special panties and a few other things." She stood silently and
stared at his awkward position. In his defiance and anger, Brad refused to
budge.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, more loudly this time. "I want to know
what's GOING ON!" It was not a question. She smiled sweetly at him, an
action that infuriated him even more. "Tell me right now what's going ON!"
His voice rose and his body shook with anger. She smiled as she noticed that
his nude penis and testicles were shaking likewise with his body and they
dangled in empty air as Brad was now stretched fully open with his right leg
on the floor and his left securely attached to the footboard. The jiggling
body parts amused her and she gave in to her giggling. Brad was evidently
angrier because his organs jumped furiously in a macabre rhythm.

She gave in to his demand. "We're going shopping," she repeated. I decided
that you are spending entirely too much time out of my sight. I don't know
what you're doing or who you're doing it with when I'm not there. So I
thought we should invest in some special purchases that will insure that I
know at least what you're NOT doing." Her voice, like her face, turned
deadly serious and Brad recognized the finality in her statement. Having
known her for 12 years and married to her for 10, he realized that her mind
was made up and he was a player in her game. He gave in. But he would not
budge.

She walked menacingly toward him and Brad saw for the first time how exposed
he was to her. Bending only slightly, she lowered herself to flick his
flaccid penis and send a shock wave up his spine. "This does what I say,
when I say," she scolded him. Right now, it's not going anywhere. Not until
you ask. Politely." She flicked him once again and walked away.

"Wait...WAIT!" he called angrily after her as she strode toward the kitchen.
"No, WAIT!" he screamed almost wildly now as he realized the delicate
position he was in. "I need to go to the bathroom," he almost whined like a
child. Brad then felt two unsettling feelings. First, he felt like a baby
and second, he was getting inexplicably hard. The two alien thoughts
flabbergasted him. Reduced to whining like a child and watching his prized
possession grow wildly large beneath him, Brad's emotions took over his calm
control.

"Please...PLEASE!! Let me go to the bathroom!" he almost cried to no
response from the kitchen. "I have to go!" he added unnecessarily.

The only sound he heard spoke volumes. "When you ask politely, I will
release you," she called and left the spread-eagled man to his own thoughts.

Brad weighed his alternatives: to pee on the carpet or to give in to her
ludicrous demand? The choice was apparently clear. He would play her game.

"OK, Please! Please may I go to the bathroom?" he sneered. There was no
response.

Minutes passed as Brad watched the bedroom clock tick agonizingly slowly. It
began to sink into his tortured brain that she was not kidding with him. In
his humiliation, Brad chose his words very carefully.

"Please, may I be released to pee?"

His polite plea was answered swiftly when his wife returned and brandished a
small key that hung from a long necklace. "This is what you want, dear," she
told him. "This is the key to your happiness. Now be a good boy and jiggle
yourself for me. I love to see you dance."

Brad could not comprehend her words, let alone understand what she meant.
Jiggle? Dance? What did she want?

Pointing towards his denuded genitals, she pointed again at his dangling
organs. "Jiggle them for me, sweetest. Then you can go to the bathroom."

Brad's inner thighs ached from their stretched position and he was desperate
to pee. Sucking in a gulp of air and bowing to her superiority over him and
his position, he tried to bounce up and down using the soft mattress as a
support. He felt cool air rush around his naked organs and recalled her
enforced shaving of him last night. As he bounced for her delight, she came
closer and cupped his balls.

"That was a nice show, dear. I'm glad you finally understand me." She
dropped his balls as easily as she had grasped them and unlocked the padlock
on the leather ankle cuff that bound him to the footboard. As it loosened,
Brad dropped to the floor and with two aching inner thighs, managed only to
crawl toward the bathroom. Struggling upright, he stood before the bowl,
evacuated his bladder, and cursed her toying with him this way. Finished
with his chore, Brad strode to his closet to get his off-day clothes. To his
amazement, his closet was locked.

Their morning was an enchanting test of wills. When he demanded his clothes,
she walked away. When he pleaded--politely--for something to wear, she
tossed two items at him. Exploring the green hospital scrubs, Brad noticed
something new about them. Both were tailored and the shirt sported velcro
closures at the shoulders and the pants snapped with velcro at the sides. In
fact, the stitching looked a little funny to him, too. He argued for
underwear and socks, but she walked away.

Finally dressed, Brad stood in the kitchen behind her and tried another
tact. Reaching around her, he grasped her breasts and tried to fondle them
in the way he knew she enjoyed, but she spun around with fury in her eyes
and instructed him that he could touch her when and if she pleased. When she
required his services, she informed him, she would let him know.

Enough was enough, Brad decided, and reached for his car keys. Ruefully, he
decided she had indeed thought of everything. No car keys, no wallet and
license, no money, no underwear...he was helpless in his own home. He was at
her mercy and his arrogance that had gotten him successfully through med
school and onto the best surgery staff in the country melted when he felt
his tender penis rise. As she ignored him when he was angry and attended him
when he was forthcoming, his balls stood hard. When he asked--politely--for
breakfast, she offered him a plate but no fork or knife. Sitting next to her
and smelling her glorious aroma, Brad allowed his hunger to overcome his
humiliation and he bent his face to his plate and ate. She smiled as bits of
scrambled egg stuck to his chin and he flung his head around wildly trying
to break off a piece of bacon.

She indicated to him that he should load the dishwasher and then she had him
make the big bed. When the pillows were not arranged to her satisfaction, he
felt the hot sting of the leather crop across his buttocks. Swinging around
to face her, he felt himself engorge even harder and the mixed sensations
excited him and confused him at the same time. He turned in silence and
readjusted the pillows. His next chore was in the bathroom. Showing him
where the cleanser was (and it astounded him that he did not know), she
pointed toward the curly black hairs that decorated the gleaming aqua sides.
Knowing that these were his hairs, he lowered himself to his knees and bent
over the tall tub sides to begin scrubbing away his own mess. It was at this
point that Brad realized the functional utility of the velcro on his pants.

As swiftly as she yanked the waistband and pulled the pants apart, she
inserted a handful of oily gel into his dark hole. The shock of being
touched where she had never touched him before--an orifice he considered
having only one function--drove Brad's organ into a wild frenzy. In his
amazement, he did not resist her entry; rather, he pressed himself into the
tub's wall and tried to satisfy his bursting penis. She drove two fingers
deep inside him and rubbed the lubricant in all directions. Resting his head
against the aqua tub, he gave in to her ministrations and allowed himself to
enjoy her attention to him.

Suddenly, she withdrew her fingers and he was oddly sad to feel them exit.
Snapping the velcro shut, she exited the bathroom and left him to continue
his cleaning chores. When the tub was rinsed and gleaming, he replaced the
cleansers and stood up, unsure of where he was supposed to go and what he
was supposed to do. He did not have to wait long for instructions.

"Here, put these on," she instructed as she tossed two leather step-in
sandals at his feet. Without a murmur, he entered them. "Let's go," she
commanded, and the woman held open the front door for him to pass through,
locked it, and opened the passenger door for him on her red convertible. As
he sat on the black leather seat, he knew the oily gel between his cheeks
would seep through and stain his pants. The feeling of helplessness and
soiling his pants brought back childhood memories Brad believed he had
forgotten or repressed so well. When she sat down in the driver's seat, Brad
adjusted his position and felt his backside stick a little to the cold
leather seat. He could feel everything through these thin pants and his lack
of underwear was disconcerting. Excited and fully erect with gobs of gel
seeping from his anus through the thin pants, Brad sat back for the long
ride to the store.

He was never much for shopping and went with her only when he had to. She
bought all his clothes, occasionally having to cajole him into going with
her to try something on for the tailor to alter. The Christmas gifts,
birthday presents for his family, gifts for the staff, wedding gifts for his
nurses...she had seen to everything. He just paid the bill, often
complaining about the amount, but always happy he did not have to purchase,
wrap and mail the presents himself. This time, she hadn't asked him if he
wanted to go or where he wanted to shop. She had made the decisions and he
was along just for the ride.

The parking garage was dark and the car lights turned on automatically.
Circling the garage all the way to the top level where there were only four
or five parked cars, she found a space she liked and brought the automobile
to a stop. She got out of the car and walked over to his side. Opening his
door, she watched him exit and smiled when she saw the blotch of
discoloration on the seat of his pants. Brad felt it and tried to pull the
material away from his body. To his surprise, he slapped his hand away.

"I'll tell you when to adjust yourself," she scolded. "Let the pants stick
to your backside," she added. "I like to see the lines of your body. Let's
go inside," she added and turned toward the huge double doors that were
marked simply, Specialty Goods. A red-coated doorman pulled the brass
handles and the doors swung easily aside. Noticing the tight-fitting coat,
Brad assessed the man was a weight-lifter and waited politely as his wife
entered the shop. Trailing behind her, Brad felt the doorman's eyes situate
on his disgraced pants and was horrified to imagine what the doorman assumed
the stain to be. He wanted to explain to the doorman that it was not his
fault, not his humiliation, but his wife walked briskly and he had no choice
but to follow.

The store was luxuriously decorated with soft lighting and thick carpets.
Every wall was covered in elegantly apportioned paper that showed giants
scenes depicting vividly sensual activities as if on big-screen television.
The characters in the scenes almost came to life before Brad's eyes. He felt
the elegantly-robed women's soft bodies and ached to caress their tender
legs. Their eyes seemed to follow him through every step he took in the
store. With the women on the walls however, were men wearing significantly
less-elegant clothing. In fact, they were downright scantily clad in the
strangest assortment of leather and metal that Brad could imagine. Men wore
collars, belts, ankle and wrist cuffs and were secured to pillories,
stationary horses and other paraphernalia much, to Brad's ever-increasing
horror, as he had been this very morning. Although their bodies looked
uncomfortable, Brad noticed, the men's faces beamed sheer delight.

Tearing his eyes away from the strangely exciting but lurid scenes, he
focused on the merchandise displayed around the store. There were displays
everywhere with carefully focused spot lighting showing off every gleaming
outfit. Although no racks of clothing filled the floor, mannequins of men in
every conceivable and inconceivable position dotted the landscape. Brad
found himself staring open-mouthed at arrays of men in severe bondage gear
juxtaposed with female dummies swathed in flowing robes. Every man sported
both an erect plaster penis and each woman wore a severe expression. What
intrigued Brad most of all were the live male models circling the sales
floor. These men were obvious body-builders; however, their frames were
appealing and attractive, not muscle-bound hunks with oversized thighs and
upper arms, not brainless monsters who lived only to feel the muscles in
their backs ripple on command. Instead, they were attractive and careful
about their appearances without being overly zealous in their exercise.
Their physiques illustrated that care.

The models were outfitted in all ranges of leather and bondage gear. Brad
was at first horrified with their display but after a few moments,
especially with the soft lighting and the low music in the background, he
adapted to the show. Men, who were wearing nothing but chest gear, paraded
around the huge room and offered the shoppers the opportunity to feel the
security of their outfits. Models sporting leg restraints and spreader bars
were harnessed to workout benches or padded horses around the shop. Their
legs spread wide and their bodies available for touching as well as viewing,
Brad wondered if one chose this accouterments as one selected cantaloupes or
grapes in the supermarket with all the feeling, poking, and squeezing that
demanded. As the scent of leather invaded his nostrils, Brad's head swirled
with fantasy mixed with dread.

His wife was here to shop for him.

It hit Brad like a ton of bricks. The leather, the bondage gear, rubber,
transparent plastic, chains, ropes and locks were the stuff his wife came to
purchase. For him! His throat closed and his heart raced as a well-dressed
saleswoman approached Brad's general location. She didn't even look at him;
rather, she addressed his wife with her total concentration.

"Is there anything special I can help you with?" the fortyish woman
inquired. Brad checked her out from his servile position behind his wife.
The saleswoman's hair was long, but twirled up expertly and secured with a
single chopstick; her voice was low, professional and almost sultry. With
the practiced demeanor of the highly trained, the woman's hands, Brad
noticed, were strong and her long nails exquisitely red. Once, Brad had told
his wife he adored long red fingernails. They were sexy, he thought. Today,
when faced with the object of his heart's desire, he shrank back in fear. As
the two women spoke softly about their shopping needs, Brad stood silently,
alone, almost undressed, with no keys, no money, no wallet or ID and
certainly, no pride. A quick glance around the room assured him that every
man he noticed was in an equal position to his own. Not only was there no
means of escape, there was no where to go.

Out of the corner of his eye, Brad noticed the doorman. If he even tried to
escape, Brad surmised, the muscle-bound doorman would certainly return him
to his rightful owner. Owner! The word struck Brad full in the face. His
wife had metamorphosed into his owner and he was chattel...a toy to be
dressed, played with, punished and maybe rewarded. The repulsive thought
pushed Brad's mind toward distraction but his rigid penis betrayed his
excitement. If anyone else noticed it, Brad worried, he would just die of
shame. He turned away from the two women who were still engrossed in
conversation and surveyed the store in order to hide his embarrassing
erection from casual glances.

One wall displayed leather bondage devices, he noticed and the adjacent side
was adorned with frilly women's lingerie. Gazing left, he noticed shoes,
shoes and more shoes. Each shoe was for a woman, he noted dejectedly, and
sported the highest heels he remembered ever seeing. The final wall was
circular and was dotted with individual doors that were unusually wide.
Their function escaped Brad but the overall look and decor of the place was
enticing, appealing and very very sensual. Brad's organ responded to his
brain's illogical escapade.

He heard his wife simultaneously with his feeling her sharp smack on his
oily bottom. Totally degraded and humiliated, he spun around to answer her
beckon.

"Pay attention," she scolded him. "We're ready for you now."

Brad forced his eyes to meet the stare of the saleswoman. Her eyes pierced
his emotional armor and his last ounce of resistance melted under her glare.
He felt a few eyes turn in his direction and he heard at least one snicker
from an equally sparsely dressed male who was also standing dutifully behind
his mistress.

Mistress! The word stuck in his brain as the saleswoman beckoned him toward
her. His feet trod cautiously as his ears rang with the lurid Mistress sound
hanging in his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another saleswoman
helping a couple by stripping the man's shirt from his body in the center of
the aisle in full view of all the shoppers. Brad's heart sank as his
immediate future unfolded in front of him. A tape measure appeared and
without warning, Brad's velcro gave way to the saleswoman's assertive yank.
Only his thin, green, stained pants stood between him and revealing to the
clientele that his errant organ was now standing at full and humiliating
attention.

The tape measure slipped around his chest. "40, " the woman noted and a male
assistant jotted the number down on his lucite clipboard. The tape measure
moved to his neck. "15, maybe 15 and a half," she corrected herself and the
male took more notes. "Now for the arms..." Brad's odyssey continued as she
measured his legs, thighs, head, hands, and torso. There were only a few
measurements she had not yet taken, he agonized. But he knew she would get
to them. Silently praying that she would not totally humiliate him in front
of the entire store, Brad tensed and waited for her to continue.