Not Stopped, Just Paused

His finger jabbed at the button on the radio, looking for anything that would take his mind off the sun’s glare and the long line of motionless cars stretched down the road. Finally he stabbed the power button and the display dimmed. Fuming in the silence, he flicked his index finger across the screen of his phone and called her.

She picked up on the first ring. “Hey, where are you?”

“Stuck in traffic. There was an accident on the exit. Might be here awhile.”

“Well, shit.”

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, trying to block out the blaring sound of a horn. “Shit.”

“And I had something in mind I wanted you here for.”

“What’s that?” He tried to sound casual.

She laughed back at him, a goonish chuckle that made her sound much younger and told him she knew exactly what he was thinking. “Oh you know. But since you’re stuck in traffic, I bet I could make the time go faster for you…”

His eyes narrowed, and he licked his lips. “That’s very thoughtful of you…” He paused, worked the words in his mouth carefully before he spoke. “But this is a very public place.”

Another chortle came over the phone. “Oh no, you don’t need to do a thing… it’s all me this time. See, I had these clothespins laid out for you, and I think I might just put them on myself. See if you can guess where they go by the sounds I make.”

He swallowed hard at the sound of rustling cloth and then her sharp hiss of breath, a sudden exhalation distorted by the phone and followed quickly by another hiss. “Two clothespins, that should be a hint. Now if you guess correctly, I’ll pleasure myself. If you guess incorrectly, I’ll add more clothespins. And you better believe that I’ll remember if you were right or wrong the next time we play.”

His mind flipped through possibilities, wondering where she would start, remembering how she played with his own body, and finally narrowing it down to two. Waiting was rarely rewarded, and he took a guess. “Your nipples, ma’am?”

His stomach lurched as she sighed. “Nope, those are actually on my labia. Hurts like a fucker, too.” Two more gasps, and then a whimper slipped into his ear. “Guess.”

He tried to think, but his mind was filled with a curious mixture of lust and longing. That should have been his pain, and his cock twitched at the thought of being restrained, having the clothespins clamped around his flesh. His jaw worked up and down as he tried to concentrate.

“I said guess.”

“Your nipples, ma’am.”

He could feel her wince over the phone. “Wrong again, that was two more on the labia. You are going to undergo some epic suffering for this shit.”

“Please… don’t.” He whimpered over the phone.

“Don’t what?”

“Put on more clothespins ma’am, just wait for me to get there.”

“Nope. That’s not the game. I’m going to put two more clothespins on, and you’re going to guess again.”

Two more whimpers, and he thought he heard a faint wooden clack over the phone. Could she have shifted her hips and made the clothespins on her labia hit one another? Would she have done it deliberately as a false clue? Would she actually have put six clothespins on her cunt? Was it a bluff, double bluff, or triple bluff? He switched the phone to his other ear and wiped the sweat off the palm of his hand, then leaned back and spoke, guessing rather than talking himself in circles. “Are they on your labia ma’am?”

“Oh, poor poor you. You watch all your crime movies, but you still guessed wrong. Those went on my nipples.”

“Sorry ma’am.” He imagined them bouncing on her chest as she breathed, shifting as she leaned back and forward. What they would feel like on his own nipples. His fingers twitched with the desire to pinch his own nipples and feel what she felt.

“Three wrong guesses, that’s a penalty butt plug. Lucky for me I got out two sizes, you can pretty much guess which one you’ll be wearing for putting me through this shit. Or maybe you can’t, you haven’t been getting many right so far.”

Her voice got fainter as she put the phone down, and he imagined her spreading lube along the plug. He’d be on all fours now, facing away from her, face down and ass up. Submissive and ready to have the cone of plastic shoved in, slowly, backed out then pushed in further until it sank inside of his body. The sickening sensation of something foreign inside of him, the slight flush of shame from having his ass violated, the twitching hardening of his cock as it pushed against his pants.

“Okay, that’s not coming out until you get one right, so for the love of fuck, get one right.”

“I’ll do my best ma’am.”

“Two more clothespins, that’s eight total.” Two more sharp gasps. “Where do you think they went?”

He thought through it. She had started with her labia, zigged, then zigged again, then zagged. He thought about the noir movies they watched, zig, zig, zag, she should zag again, but she would expect him to think that, so it was back to zig. “Your z-, I mean, your labia ma’am?”

“Good boy.” He sighed in relief. “You can figure things out. Now sit quietly while I give myself some pleasure.”

He heard a click followed by a low hum, and then her moans filled his ear. He sat very still, listening carefully to the sounds, imagining the vibrator pressing against her skin, sliding up and down, wincing at the whimpers as the vibrator bounced across one of the clothespins. He pulled together memories and imagined himself there, remembered the pain of wooden jaws clamping down on his flesh and savored the anticipation of her yanking them off as she came with the rush of blood bringing them both fresh pleasure and pain. Her moans got louder until he could hear her body rubbing against the sheets, then shuddering and jerking on the mattress, then finally lying still. The sound of her jagged breathing got louder as the humming sound clicked off. “Hm, nice.”

Movement caught his eye, and he cleared his throat hesitantly. “Traffic is starting, ma’am.”

“Okay, drive safe. I’m going to take these off and figure out what’s going to happen when you get here.”

“Thank you ma’am.”

“You say that now…” Her chuckle came over the phone one last time before it disconnected, he flicked his phone off, and he started driving towards her again. His thoughts were warm, soft around the edges, fuzzy, and he wasn’t annoyed with the traffic anymore. How could he be when she was at the end, and with him the entire way?

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

4 thoughts on “Not Stopped, Just Paused”

    1. Thanks much. Maybe I’ll continue it some day. Right now I’d probably write a story about the dog throwing up on one of their shoes, work calling, and the neighbor falling off a ladder and breaking their leg or something though. 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s