A Husband’s Regret a.k.a. The Pregnant MILF
by Tamira K.
A female-led marriage is a difficult thing to explain to people outside of that situation. Well, explaining is actually quite easy; getting people who live more conventional lives to understand is the difficult part.
So considered Gerald Townsend as he drove his pregnant wife Veronica home after their trip to the local hardware superstore, the back of their trailer full with heavy-duty timber.
From his point-of-view, why would anyone not want to be in a relationship like this? He was a self-made, successful and wealthy bachelor before he and Veronica had met and it was delightful to at last meet a woman who was so clearly on his level in every respect. Every woman from his past was either subpar in terms of either intelligence, ambition or independence. Then there were the transparent gold-diggers. He got all he could out of all of them and moved on before it got complicated.
Veronica, on the other hand, was highly ambitious, smart and plainly not after him for anything other than himself. They had met at a business convention and he found it refreshing that she had made the first move. Well, kind of. In fact, she had made the first move by telling him to ask her for dinner. There was a dry humour to her manner and he very much appreciated that Veronica cut straight through any bullshit.
It also helped that he was intensely attracted to her. Their chemistry was instant. She was a physically impressive woman — 5’10” and curvy with a mane of curly strawberry-blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes. The fact that she had large breasts was obvious, but he was most attracted to how strong she looked. Until the moment he saw her, he assumed that his preference was for petite girls. But she fell into the physical category that he later discovered to be referred to on the Internet as “Thick: Athletic”. As he was over 6 feet tall and a regular gym-goer himself, he had grown tired of the young girls he could throw around and liked the fact that she appeared to be more of a challenge. The other thing that turned him on about her was their age difference — he’d never been with an older woman before and she was six years older than him, almost to the day.
After the convention and a relatively short period of long-distance dating, they both knew that this was a very rare connection that was working very well and decided to move in together. ‘We can only try,’ Veronica had said, ‘If it doesn’t work, we will chalk it up to experience and move on like adults: without bitterness or tribulation. If it does work, then we won’t have wasted any precious time.’ Gerald couldn’t argue with this, especially as he was able to work from any location within his company and hers was undoubtedly a nicer house than his — large, with a substantial garden, dual garage, basement and 12-person outdoor jacuzzi.
Female-Led Relationships, or FLR, was not a term Gerald had previously been familiar with. He had noticed that during their time together she had been the one to make most of the day-to-day decisions about the running of the home and the destinations for their weekends away. He largely agreed with her decisions so there was never any reason to debate them and the fact that she was happy to make decisions without consulting him meant that he could take a lot of the brainpower out of the hours when he wasn’t at work. The tasks that she assigned him when he was at home were a pleasure to fulfil because she only asked him to do things that were reasonable and within his means to do. If something required an outside expert, she would employ the right person to do it — generally of decent repute. A cowboy never stepped foot in their home.
It was during their time in the bedroom that she had first mentioned FLR. After an epic session of lovemaking during which he had brought her to orgasm several times, she said, ‘I’m very happy for you to take charge here.’
Gerald had smiled, ‘Only here?’
Her reply came with a very straight face, ‘Yes. You’re a man, Gerald, and I want you to be a man…in the bedroom. In the bedroom I need you. Outside the bedroom I like things how I like them. That’s one of the reasons we work so well — you also like things how I like them and I hate being challenged. But in the bedroom, I like you to take charge. I love what you do to me and how you make me feel. You’re a creative and attentive and domineering lover and I really like that. So, let us say this: in the bedroom, you are in charge. Outside of the bedroom, I make the decisions about our life. I will consult you if I think I need to but most of the time I won’t need to. Outside of the bedroom, this is a female-led relationship. What that means is pretty self-explanatory but I can give you some things to read if you need them. Do you agree?’
Gerald was somewhat surprised. He couldn’t help but smirk.
Veronica’s brow furrowed, ‘Do you agree?’
‘On one condition,’ he said.
‘Which condition?’ she asked, concerned.
‘That you agree to marry me.’
For the first time since he had known her (and possibly ever), Gerald saw tears in her eyes. It meant everything to him that he was the only one who could penetrate her defences.
One month later they had a combined wedding and honeymoon at a luxury resort in the Maldives. Veronica was now Mrs Veronica Townsend and, during the trip she also become pregnant. The most perfect woman he had ever met was going to be the mother to his son or daughter. Gerald worshipped his wife. Why wouldn’t he? He considered himself to be an impressive individual and not only had she managed to tame him, she was effectively dominating him in every aspect of his life. In a way, it was even the case with sex — he was only in charge in the bedroom because she allowed him to be! This was the way she had always lived her life and woe betide anybody who didn’t meet her standards.
A case in point had just taken place in the hardware store where an overly casual 19-year-old shop assistant, with the name tag JACK, had tried to blag his way through selling Veronica and Gerald some overpriced materials that would have been wholly unsuitable for purpose. Gerald was aware, but this little runt was utterly oblivious, to the hole he was digging for himself. First of all, it had been Veronica who had asked for his assistance, but he then referred all his answers to Gerald. (This was a bad move.) Secondly, Veronica knew more about the timber she required than she was letting on. His third mistake was constantly calling a customer—who happened to be Veronica’s husband—“mate”, possibly in an attempt to demonstrate how, even though he had probably only been in the workforce for around a month, he was not a subordinate to anyone, including paying customers. Paying customers who he was trying to con.
Gerald just stood back and prepared to watch the fireworks. That’s when a the branch manager walked past. Veronica calmly called him over and, without ever raising her voice, savaged the two men standing in front of her. By the time she had finished, the manager was promising to improve staff training and she had received a 15% discount for the materials that she should have been shown in the first place. Jack even wheeled the timber to the car and loaded it up for them with a face like a smacked arse.
He threw them a resentful glance as they laughed and got in their car.
— — — — —
The night before they had hosted their joint birthday barbecue — Gerald was turning 32 and Veronica was turning 38. Friends and relatives ate and chatted and took advantage of the summer evening. As the evening wore on, many people headed home and the final eight slipped on bathing costumes and into the jacuzzi.
Veronica’s friend Tilly, who was a regular guest at their home and who would have been more of Gerald’s type in a past life, was a lot less reserved than Veronica. Tilly was the last to step into the jacuzzi, trying unsuccessfully not to spill her Chardonnay as she became distracted by Veronica’s cleavage, ‘Jesus, Vee! Could your tits get any bigger?’
Veronica ignored the comment. Dennis, a work friend of Gerald’s, nodded.
‘What are you nodding at, Dennis?’ asked Veronica.
‘I was just going to ask how far along in your pregnancy are you now?’ said Dennis.
‘I just reached the five-month mark.’
‘Well, I think you’re selfish,’ said Tilly, ‘taking up all the boob space with your dairy factory. Can’t you share some with me?’ she laughed then lowered her voice and asked, ‘What are your neighbours like?’
‘They’re alright,’ said Veronica, ‘The Cotters. I don’t talk to them much. A couple in their fifties—’
‘Do they have a son?’ asked Tilly.
‘Yes. He’s about 18 or 19. Bit of a nerdy looking—’
‘Yep!’ Tilly interrupted, ‘Well, don’t look now, but I think he’s enjoying the sight of your guests in bikinis.’
Veronica and Gerald turned slowly to see her less-than-subtle young neighbour with the top half of his face peering from his first floor bedroom window, like some kind of Kilroy/Chad version of a Peeping Tom. Whilst the lights were off in his room, he obviously didn’t realise how completely he was being illuminated by their outdoor lights and the curtain closest to him was shaking at a very suspicious tempo. Veronica’s eyes met his and he comically dipped straight out of view.
The group in the jacuzzi laughed. ‘Well, he probably wasn’t looking at me!’ said Tilly, topping up her wine, ‘My tits are smaller than Dennis’s!’
‘What’s your next conquest, Tilly?’ asked one of the other guests. Tilly was known to be a local community socialite.
Tilly deflated, ‘Don’t ask me how, but I’ve somehow managed to get roped into helping out with the village fete!’
Veronica knew that her friend was always offering to help with things that were far from being within her field of expertise. ‘What are you doing now?’
‘I’m helping out with a medieval set-up at the fete and it’s a nightmare!’ said Tilly.
‘Why?’ asked Gerald.
‘Well, I’ve got to organise costumes and milkmaids and a banquet for the kids and it’s so much work! Then, just today, one of the suppliers left me in the lurch!’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Dennis.
‘Well, it’s medieval, right? So I need to get torture equipment,’
‘Ah,’ said Veronica, ‘the well-known stalwarts of children’s entertainment — torture devices!’
‘Yeah! They love all that Horrible Histories stuff. So I need stocks and pillories and all of that, so that people can be put in them and have their photo taken for a donation to the local charities. Only, one of the guys who said he can help me out with that, now says he can’t. So I’ve only got one measly set of stocks that you stand up and stick you neck and wrists through.’
‘What else do you need?’ asked Veronica.
‘At least one other thing!’ said Tilly, ‘I was thinking of some of those stocks you sit down and put your ankles in… It’s amazing how easily pleased some people are.’
‘Gerald can make you one of those,’ said Veronica.
Gerald looked at his wife, surprised to be volunteered, but didn’t argue.
‘Ooh! Really?’ said Tilly, ‘I didn’t know you were a dab-hand at carpentry!’
‘By the look of his reaction just then, neither did he!’ said Dennis, inspiring group laughter.
‘Gerald can turn his hand to anything,’ said Veronica, calmly shutting down the laughter. She looked to Gerald.
‘Yeah, I’ll do it. No problem,’ said Gerald.
‘And he’ll make something better than just silly little ankle stocks,’ Veronica added.
‘Great!’ said Tilly, ‘You’re a life-saver!’
As a result of this conversation, Gerald was now driving home with a trailer full of lumber.
‘I’m still not 100% sure about this,’ said Gerald.
‘You’ll be fine,’ said Veronica. You’ve got the images I picked off the Internet to help you.
‘Couldn’t we get a proper carpenter to do it?’
‘We could, but I already said you would do it, and I want to be proud to show off your work,’ she said.
He caught her eye and felt inspired. He would do anything to please her. As they pulled into the front driveway, they saw the couple next door loading suitcases into their car. Greetings were exchanged.
‘Off on holiday?’ asked Gerald.
‘That’s right!’ said Mrs Cotter, ‘Two weeks of getting away from it all!’
‘What’s all that wood for?’ asked Mr Cotter.
‘Just a personal project,’ said Gerald as he assisted Veronica from the car.
Mrs Cotter spied her belly, ‘Ooh! Exciting! How long is it now?’
‘Five months,’ said Veronica, smiling politely as she headed for the front door. ‘Enjoy your holiday!’ As Gerald unlocked the door for her she muttered, ‘Perhaps I should hang a sign round my neck, counting the days.’ Gerald smiled and went back to the trailer.
‘I’d help you, but we’re running a bit late,’ said Mr Cotter. ‘If you need anything, ask our Charlie. He’s too old to come with his mum and dad on holiday, apparently. And it’ll do him good to get away from that bloody Playstation!’
‘I should be fine, thanks,’ said Gerald. They all waved goodbye and Gerald carried the first lot of wood into the basement.
‘Wouldn’t you be better off making it at ground level?’ asked Veronica.
‘I’ve been thinking about it,’ said Gerald. ‘The garage is full, I don’t want to do it outside in case it gets wet. The way I’m going to make it means it can be taken in four parts and reassembled wherever it goes. Plus, I can hide it from you and give you the big reveal when it’s done!’
‘Very well,’ said Veronica, ‘Whatever will help you make the best product.’
— — — — —
One week and a lot of extra-curricular sawing and hammering later, Gerald escorted Veronica and Tilly into the basement. A tarpaulin covered the large object in the middle of the room.
‘Ready?’ asked Gerald.
‘Yes!’ said Tilly.
He pulled back the tarpaulin to reveal a work of art — a long wooden bench with a leather seat and a sturdy, padded back beam to rest against. Leather wrist straps hung from a steel wire and a metal pulley positioned at the top of the beam. In front were some ankle stocks, again padded with leather. The whole thing had been varnished and lacquered.
Gerald looked to Veronica who had a proud look in her eyes.
‘Wow!’ said Tilly, circling the stocks. ‘You did this in one week!? This is brilliant! Are you sure you’ll be able to get it out the basement thought?’
‘Yeah,’ said Gerald. ‘There are some strong latches holding it all together. We’ll carry it out in pieces.’
‘Great… Where did the leather wrist straps come from, Gerald? Your own personal collection?’
‘No. I got them online. But only the best,’ he said.
‘Ha! You put a padlock on the ankle stocks?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Thorough! And what are these for?’ Tilly asked, touching some cleat hooks that were attached to the tops of the ankle stocks.
‘I don’t know,’ said Gerald, ‘I just followed what was in the pictures.’
As Tilly touched the ankle stocks they slid horizontally along bench, ‘What the…? Why do these move?’
‘Well, everyone is a different height. So, when your bum is in the seat, you might need to move these out or in, depending on how long their legs are.’ He demonstrated that the ankle stocks had about 12 inches of movement along the lower end of the bench. ‘And it can lock in place, wherever you want to put it. I’ve some a similar thing with the wrist straps.’ He stepped behind the back support and turned a winch in both directions, lowering and raising the wrist straps.
‘Well, aren’t you a handy man to have around…?’ said Tilly. ‘Keep ahold of him, Vee, or I’ll nab him!’
Gerald looked to his beautiful wife. She loved that her man had done himself proud.
‘Brilliant!’ said Tilly. ‘This is well above and beyond what was needed! We might even be able to sell it afterwards! Okay, I’ve gotta dash! I’ll see you at the fete!’ She ran up the stairs and let herself out.
‘She’s always running around,’ said Gerald.
Veronica said nothing. She just kept looking at him with understated appreciation. He stepped up to her and put his arms around her waist as far as he could, her pregnant belly now a definite obstacle.
She looked at the stocks. ‘Maybe we could use those wrist straps in the bedroom sometime,’ she said.
Gerald looked surprised, ‘Oh, you like the idea of that, do you?’ Veronica gave a look that indicated she was open to it. Gerald felt a swell of passion, ‘Maybe we should go and talk about that…’ and led her upstairs to the bedroom.
Once in the bedroom, he gentle laid her on the four-poster super-king sized bed and slowly undressed her while asking her questions.
‘Have you ever been tied down before?’ he asked.
’Never,’ she said.
‘Why not?’
‘It just never occurred to me. I never found a man who made me want to give up complete control.’
‘And you want to lose complete control?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘You’ve never told me this before.’
’Some things have to be discovered along the way,’ she said. ‘Just because we’re married, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t surprise each other.’
‘This is true,’ he said, laying on the bed behind her and gently running a hand down her side. She wriggled and firmly grabbed his hand. ‘Something wrong?’
‘I just think I’ve hit another phase of pregnancy. All sensations are enhanced.’
‘Oh, really?’ he said, turning her onto her back and raising an eyebrow. She looked up at him, not knowing what he had in mind. ‘In that case, we shouldn’t waste the opportunity to see what happens if I do this…’ With that, he moved to the lower end of the bed and performed long, lingering oral sex on her. Veronica could not have been more satisfied and, after he had made love to her, they fell into a very cozy and satisfied nap.
It was 10pm when they were awoken by loud, thumping music. It had been light when they fell asleep and now it was dark outside. ‘What time is it?’ asked Gerald.
‘Too late for whatever that is,’ replied Veronica as she got up and put on her nightgown.
Gerald walked over to the bedroom window. The house next door was in full-on rave mode, with a DJ, laser lights and around young adults drinking, dancing and splashing about in the swimming pool. ‘I guess Charlie is taking advantage of his parents being away.’
‘Not for long,’ said Veronica, putting on some slippers.
‘I’ll go,’ said Gerald.
‘No. You make me a snack. I won’t be long,’ said Veronica. She went to the house next door and knocked. It was answered by a boy she didn’t know. ‘Where’s Charlie?’ she asked. The boy pointed through the house to the garden. Veronica walked through, gaining attention from everyone she passed. None of the attendees expected a tall, blonde pregnant lady in a silk nightgown and slippers to be making an appearance. In the garden, however, everyone was too busy shouting, dancing and jumping in the outdoor pool to notice. She could see Charlie at the far end of the garden with another boy she recognised from somewhere. They were flirting with a group of girls. Veronica stepped over to the DJ and spoke into his ear. The music immediately ceased.
Everyone looked round. Charlie walked over with his group in tow. Veronica could now place where she knew the other boy from — it was Jack, the insolent assistant from the hardware superstore. ‘What’s going on?’ said Charlie. Despite his efforts to dress for the occasion, he was unable to hide his nerdiness.
‘Your music is too loud,’ said Veronica.
‘Oh, come on, Mrs Townsend!’ said Charlie, ‘It’s only ten o’clock!’
‘Yes. And I need to sleep. If you can’t keep your party quiet, you will have to finish it.’ She looked at Jack, who obviously recognised her and was still bitter. She held his eye until he looked at the ground.
‘But it’s my birthday,’ said Charlie.
‘Happy birthday. Now, keep it down, please,’ said Veronica and she turned to leave.
‘What if we don’t?’ said Jack.
‘Shut up, Jack!’ hissed Charlie. ‘But actually, he’s right. What if we don’t? I don’t care if you tell my parents! I’m not a kid!’
Veronica stopped, turned round and slowly stepped over to him. ‘Why would I talk to your parents? As you point out, you are an adult, so I’m talking to you like an adult: If I hear anything more from you this evening, I will get this party shut down.’
Charlie had no answer and was overly aware of the stupid, slack-lipped look on his face as everyone he knew witnessed him get cut off at the knees by a pregnant woman in fluffy slippers. It was confusing to resent someone so much who he had lusted after for so many years.
‘You understand,’ said Veronica with upmost condescension, ‘Good.’ She calmly turned and walked away, watched by everyone with a mixture of intimidation, lust and umbrage, all of which added fuel to the aplomb with which she left the house.
Gerald sat in the living room with a plate of light sandwiches as his wife returned home and closed the front door. ‘How did that go?’ he asked as she sat on the sofa and turned on the TV.
‘I’m happy,’ she said. ‘Shall we watch a film?’
Over the course of the next two hours, through the living room window Veronica happily noted a regular stream of partygoers leaving the house next door.
What she didn’t see was Charlie as he said goodbye to the last guest. His highly-publicised birthday pool party had been reduced to a house party. While this could have still been good, it wasn’t what everyone else signed up for and, because Charlie wasn’t the most charismatic of personalities, person-by-person they had made their excuses and left.
He stood in the shadows of his front garden for a fifteen minutes, watching Mr and Mrs Townsend through the blinds of their living room window, illuminated by the blue light of their television screen. She wasn’t being kept awake by him — she just wanted to spoil his fun.
— — — —*—
The following morning Gerald woke up horny. Veronica’s comments about being tied up had infiltrated his dreams and he had abstract images of her tied to the bed which woke him up earlier than usual. He looked at her and smiled to himself — even in her sleep, she had a look that would make most men feel one-inch tall.
Instead, he picked up his phone. While the idea of tying her down was hot, he wasn’t exactly sure what he would do once he had her in that position. Therefore, he spent some time surveying BDSM and domination web sites for inspiration.
‘It’s a little early for porn, isn’t it?’ said Veronica, making him jump.
Gerald saw the naked bodies that populated the pages he was reading, ‘Oh, it’s not porn. I was just doing some reading.’
‘Sure. That’s why I look at web sites with nudie pictures on them too: the articles,’ she said as she swung her legs out of bed, stood up and made her way to the bathroom, throwing a wry smile back at him.
‘I’m telling the truth,’ he said.
‘Tell it to the tent that you’re pitching in the bedsheets,’ she said as she closed the bathroom door.
It was a hot and sunny day. Gerald opened the windows and patio doors before making a continental breakfast for them both. Veronica appeared after her morning shower in a loose red summer blouse, denim shorts that still fit her miraculously well and her slippers. Gerald pulled out her chair and gently pushed it in for her as she sat.
They ate breakfast to the sound of birds in the garden as she checked the stock market round-up for the week on her laptop. Meanwhile, Gerald’s mind was racing with all the information he had read that morning and an erection that would not go away. Thankfully, they had no plans for the day and the bedroom was his dominion. He waited until Veronica had finished her breakfast. She spoke without looking up, ‘What’s on your mind, Gerald? You’re watching me like a dog waiting to be fed.’
‘Come with me,’ he said and led her by the hand into the basement and stood before the stocks. ‘This will be gone in a week. It would be a shame to waste it.’
‘You really liked that bondage idea, didn’t you?’ said Veronica. Gerald grinned in reply. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Get on,’ he said.
Veronica sat on the leather seat. Whilst she knew her husband wasn’t familiar with such activities, it gave her a little twinge of excitement to be getting into this position and she was very curious as to what he would do. He helped her to lift her legs until they were straight out in front of her and resting in the leather-padded ankle stocks. He adjusted them to their fullest capacity—Veronica was one of the longer-legged users he had accounted for in his design—and clipped them into place. Then he brought down the top of the stocks. They were a snug fit. ‘How does that feel?’ he said, maintaining a balance between Mr Dominant and Mr I-Want-To-Make-Sure-Your-Feet-Still-Have-Circulation.
‘Very good. The leather padding you’ve put on this is actually extremely comfortable. I could watch TV in this.’
‘It’s funny you should say that,’ he said as he lifted her wrists, one at a time, into the wrist straps and left them hanging quite low, with her hands at shoulder height.
‘Oh?’
By way of explanation, he stepped over to a shelf directly in front of her where he had rested an iPad while she was in the shower. He propped it up and dialled a number.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked.
Gerald’s pocket rang, he answered it and his face appeared on the iPad. ‘I want to watch you,’ he said answering his phone. ‘I want to watch you as you think about the position you’ve put yourself in.’ Seeing the doubtful look on Veronica’s face, he was even more doubtful that he was getting this right. Leaving a submissive to get more and more turned on as they consider their predicament was one of the tips he had read on one of the domination forums. He only hoped that it would work on Veronica, given a little more time. He considered that it was new to them both and Veronica probably just needed some time to get into the right headspace.
‘Why?’ asked Veronica, ‘Where are you going to be?’
‘I’m just going to take a leisurely drive,’ he answered.
‘A drive? You mean, to the pub?’ Though her voice was calm, her subtext was undeniable: this was not what she had in mind.
Gerald maintained composure as he approached and caressed her cheek, ‘No. Not to the pub, my dear,’ thankfully the answer came to him in a flash, ‘To a BDSM shop.’
‘Oh…’ said Veronica, a little turned on.
‘That’s right,’ he said, pleased to have hit the right note, ‘and I’ll be able to watch you the whole time with this,’ he pointed to the iPad and headed for the stairs.
‘Just one thing,’ she said. He raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘Shouldn’t you have undressed me first?’
Indeed he should have but he had been too eager to tie her up. He decided to mask the mistake, ‘All in good time, my dear,’ he said and walked up the stairs, quickly Googling for the nearest store that sold BDSM items. As he got into the car he discovered that the nearest shop was 25 miles away. He would have to be very good at keeping her entertained for the hour it would take him to make the trip.
He clipped the phone into its windscreen holder and could see his beautiful wife in the stocks, looking at him. He smiled and swiftly reversed out of the drive but as he did so, he almost hit Jack as he was was about to cross the driveway. ‘Easy!’ shouted Jack.
Gerald wound down his window. ‘Sorry!’ They recognised each other but Jack just glared at him with attitude. ‘Just on my way into town,’ said Gerald.
‘Well, try and get there without knocking me over!’ said Jack. Gerald nodded and drove away.
Jack made his way to the Cotter residence and knocked on the door. Charlie answered, somewhat depressed. ‘Come in,’ he said.
‘Did I tell you your neighbours are huge dickheads?’ asked Jack.
‘I know that,’ said Charlie.
‘They got me in trouble at work — complained because I wasn’t calling them Sir and Madam!’ he emphasised the snootiness of such behaviour. ‘I thought you said you’ve fancied her for years.’
‘I have,’ Charlie admitted.
‘She’s got big tits, but I couldn’t fancy someone who is such a bitch,’ said Jack. Charlie didn’t answer. ‘What are we going to do? It’s too nice out there to stay in playing FIFA.’
Charlie was sulking. Jack kicked him in the thigh. Charlie chased him into the garden and punched him in the shoulder.
‘Ha! At least I got you out here!’ said Jack.
Charlie picked up a frisbee and threw it to the far end of the garden.
— — — — —
Gerald was half way to his destination when Veronica asked, ‘So, what are you going to do to me when you get back?’
‘I can’t give that away, Veronica. You will just have to wonder…’
This was pretty much the theme of their conversation since he had left her and he was beginning to regret doing so. At this point, he had forgotten all the things he had read that morning and had no idea how he would make the experience more exciting than just being in bed. He hoped that the adult toy shop would provide some inspiration.
As he was driving he spotted one more thing that he hadn’t considered, ‘Oh, dear,’ he said.
‘What’s wrong?’ said Veronica.
‘I’m about to go through a tunnel. If I cut out—’ At that point, the connection was lost.
Veronica shook her head. She appreciated that Gerald was trying something new. She just wished he’d planned it a bit better. Just then something hit the side of the house. She looked up through a narrow, dusty window that was at ground level. It was probably a bird. Sometimes that happened. Last summer a starling had flown into the patio doors and knocked itself out. Gerald took it to—
Veronica saw a large shadowy movement. That wasn’t a bird. She then saw the neighbours’ boy, Charlie, jumping over the fence. She saw him creeping with distinct lack of subtlety through their garden and approaching the house. Don’t look down here, Veronica thought, trying to employ telepathy. He was looking into their kitchen through the patio doors. What’s he after? she thought. He leant down and when he stood back up again he was holding a frisbee. That’s what hit the house. Now just go! and, just as it seemed as though the telepathy was working, he made a double-take and saw her staring at him through the window. He quickly looked away but stood still.
She then heard a distant voice calling, ‘Chuck it back!’
Charlie beckoned someone with his hand. A moment later someone else jumped over the fence and he was joined by… Oh, Christ. It’s that shop assistant kid. Veronica watched for a moment as they whispered and Charlie was obviously explaining what he had just seen. It was confirmed when the shop assistant looked past Charlie and in through the basement window, ‘Holy shit!’ he said to Charlie, unable to contain his excitement.
There was more mumbling between them until Veronica clearly heard the shop assistant say, ‘No, I just saw him driving away!’
Veronica was concerned. They knew Gerald wasn’t there. But they’re not going to break in… Shit, she thought, the patio doors are still open. At that moment she looked up and saw both young men looking at her. They then stepped out of view and she heard their footsteps on the kitchen floor. She quickly considered her options and tried to release one of the wrist straps with her teeth but the angle was too acute to grip it. Then she heard footsteps walking slowly down the stairs and the basement door shut.
She watched as the two young men stepped out of the shadows. ‘Hello, Mrs Townsend,’ said Charlie. ‘I think you know my friend, Jack.’
Moments passed as they looked at her and she looked back at them. She broke the silence with a comment that, considering the situation, felt quite absurd, ‘You do know that you are trespassing?’
‘What are you doing?’ asked Jack.
‘Not that it’s any of your business, but my husband and I are testing these stocks that he made for the local village fete,’ she said, retaining all possible dignity.
‘Oh?’ said Jack, looking around, ‘Where is your old man?’
‘He will be here any minute,’ said Veronica.
‘I don’t think so. I just saw him and he said he was driving into town. That’s at least a one-hour round-trip.’
Veronica was poker-faced. ‘You are mistaken,’ she said.
‘Why did he tie you up and leave, Mrs Townsend? Are you into some weird shit?’ asked Charlie.
Veronica maintained her poise, ‘Don’t be impertinent, Charlie.’
‘Don’t talk to me like that! I’m nineteen!’ shouted Charlie as he stomped towards her. Veronica didn’t waver. This left Charlie looking particularly inept.
Jack noticed the iPad on the shelf. ‘Why is this here like this?’ he asked, then he pieced it together. ‘He was FaceTiming to you, wasn’t he? The call must have dropped out! Ha! What an idiot!’ Veronica tried to ignore the insult.
Meanwhile, Charlie had discovered the winch on the rear of the back support and gave it a turn. As he did so, Veronica’s arms began to raise. He continued. ‘Ha. That’s fun!’ said Jack. Veronica was irritated that, no matter how much strength she used, she couldn’t stop her arms rising up and soon they were at full stretch, causing her shirt to ride up and show the midriff around her pregnant belly.
‘You can’t do this,’ said Veronica, firmly, ‘I am pregnant.’
‘We’re not doing anything your husband wouldn’t do,’ said Charlie as he returned to her side, a little enthralled by her pregnant belly.
‘Uergh! Look!’ said Jack, pointing, ‘she’s got sweaty armpits!’
‘Get out of here, you utter juveniles,’ said Veronica, looking Charlie directly in the eye with that unique expression of hers – the one that you didn’t want to argue with. He gulped and began to shuffle towards the winch when he noticed something unexpected…
It was unexpected to Veronica too and it seemed to begin in slow motion. She felt a smirk creep across her lips. For a moment she didn’t know why. She was more than well-practiced at knocking men down to size with stony looks and this was certainly not an amusing situation. So why the hell do I feel the need to smile? she thought. Then she felt it: Something is touching my armpit… She turned to see Jack gently prodding her with his finger and a look of exaggerated disgust on his face. She was building the energy to tell him in no uncertain terms to back off but something else emerged instead.
‘Pa-hah!’ Veronica spat out in a way that caused both young men to jump back. She composed herself. ‘Don’t touch me!’
Charlie and Jack looked at one another and smiled, then looked back at her. ‘You’re ticklish!’ said Charlie.
‘No, I’m not,’ said Veronica. If she was honest, she didn’t know if she was. She had no recollection of anyone ever testing the theory. She’d seen other people doing it but it never that occurred to her to do to anyone else and she had a vibe that never welcomed anyone to try and do it to her. It just wasn’t something that was on her radar.
‘I think you are, Mrs Townsend. Wanna bet?’ said Jack.
‘No. I don’t want to bet. I want you to leave my house before you do something that will get you into any more trouble,’ she said in her calm, stern tone. Usually this worked, but these lads weren’t listening. They were currently looking her up and down.
‘I’ll bet!’ said Charlie, ‘I’ll bet I find where she’s most ticklish!’
‘Yeah!’ said Jack, ‘Let’s take it in turns! Who goes first? Let’s flip for it…’ he took out a coin and flipped it into the air.
Veronica interjected: ‘Nobody “goes first” or second or at all. I’m not here for your amusement—’
‘No,’ said Jack, ‘Your husband left you here for ours!’
The boys laughed but they were interrupted by a digital ring. All three looked to the iPad. The display read: Gerald calling…
– – – – –
Gerald had reached the shopping centre and rushed to the shop. In order to save time he hadn’t asked the shop assistant for any advice, he simply bought several toys that he vaguely recognised, utilising the theory that the highest price would yield the best quality. With two shopping bags full, he ran back to the car.
Logically, he was aware that if he called Veronica, she wasn’t able to swipe the iPad to answer it. But then it occurred to him that she may be able to use the voice recognition function to do so.
He dialled the iPad. It rang for so long that either the voice recognition wasn’t switched on or Veronica didn’t know that answering with voice recognition wasn’t an option. It rang off. He tried again. She knew he was aware of her circumstances and that he wasn’t stupid. Therefore, she would hopefully work out that there was a way to answer. Again, it rang for ages. He was just about to give up hope when the screen read: Connecting…
Gerald smiled, relieved. But when the screen became active he found himself looking at the nerdy face of the boy next door.
‘Hello?’ said Gerald.
‘Hello, Mr Townsend,’ said Charlie.
‘What’s going on?’
‘That’s just what we were wondering,’ said Charlie, who was then joined by Jack. Their faces filled up the whole screen.
‘Hiya!’ said Jack.
‘Are you in my house?’ said Gerald.
‘Yeah,’ said Charlie, ‘We saw Mrs Townsend and she looked like she was in a spot of trouble, so we came in to help…’
Gerald clenched his teeth. Veronica was going to be livid. ‘Where is she now?’ he asked.
‘Oh, she’s still here…’ the young men parted ways to reveal Veronica, still in the stocks but now with her arms stretched high. She looked less than impressed.
‘Okay, well, if you can just let her go, that will be great,’ said Gerald, accepting the humiliation that they’d been caught in the act, ‘I will be home as soon as I can.’
‘Oh, we’re not going to let her go,’ said Charlie.
‘What?’ said Gerald.
‘We’ve just discovered something verrry interesting about Mrs Townsend,’ said Charlie.
Gerald grew concerned, ‘What are you talking about?’
Jack answered, ‘Did you know your wife is ticklish?’
Gerald was stumped. Was that a euphemism? ‘What are you talking about?’ he repeated.
‘It’s an easy question,’ said Charlie, ‘Did you know your wife is ticklish?’
‘Call the police, Gerald!’ Veronica said, firmly. She had clearly reached the end of her tether.
‘Wait,’ said Gerald, ‘Are you alright, Vee? Have they hurt you?’
‘No! We haven’t hurt her!’ said Charlie, insulted, ‘We’re not animals. We’re just having a bit of fun. It’s what these stocks were made for, weren’t they? Now: did you know your wife is ticklish!?’
Gerald bridled. The fact was that he didn’t know. He had never felt the impulse to tickle her but he wasn’t going to have some young upstart try to tell him something about his own wife that he didn’t know. ‘Of course I knew!’
‘Ohhhhhh!’ said Charlie and Jack together.
‘She was just trying to convince us that she wasn’t ticklish!’ said Charlie.
Gerald instantly regretted what he had said. Veronica did not look pleased. She was irritated that he had missed her non-verbal facial indications to consider his answer.
‘In that case, we’re going to go ahead and play a game — to guess where she’s most ticklish. Welcome to the show!’ said Jack.
They stepped back from the iPad and over to Veronica. Jack flipped a coin. ‘Heads!’ called Charlie.
Jack caught the coin, ‘Shit. It is heads. You go first…’ Charlie looked Veronica up and down.
‘Gerald! I said call the police!’
Gerald’s instinct was to follow what she said, but something inside him compelled him to keep watching even though he was repulsed by the idea of anyone touching his wife.
‘I’m going to go here…’ said Charlie standing at Veronica’s feet.
Jack rolled his eyes, ’Seems a bit obvious, but whatever.’
Veronica and Gerald could only watch as Charlie knelt to remove Veronica’s fluffy slippers. Veronica didn’t have a beauty regime that included particular attention to her feet but, as it turned out, that wasn’t necessary – they were naturally very attractive and well-kept.
‘Wow,’ said Jack, ‘Your feet are huge!’ Veronica looked at him, failing to hide how irked she was, but this just made him laugh.
Charlie, however, was a closet foot-fetishist so he had a different perspective on the matter that he was keeping to himself. As he slowly and deliberately removed her slippers, he thought her feet were sublime. He couldn’t count the number of times he had watched her sunbathing in the garden and thanked the Lord each time her soles were pointed in the direction of his bedroom window. He even had a couple of photos he had sneakily taken but were at such a distance that the details were too pixelated to be any real use. Still, they had seen him through some lonely nights. But he didn’t need those any more – this mental picture would stay with him forever.
Her feet were indeed large but that’s how he liked them. The underside of the slippers told him something that he always wanted to know – they were size 8. At least, the slippers were size 8 but her feet were a little snug in them, possibly due to her pregnancy. They may even be 8.5! To him, size was an indication of womanhood.
Their colour inspired him to think, peaches and cream. Her heels were nice and smooth and, as he gazed up the soles, each foot became wider at the ball, allowing for toes that were nicely spread and in good shape. What surprised him the most about her feet were her toes – they were “cute”. This was one of the last words he thought that would suit this sexy, imposing woman but a fact is a fact: Mrs Townsend had cute toes.
He longed to lick and worship her feet, but now wasn’t the time. He was satisfied with the fact that he was kneeling at them and removing her slippers – the ones she was wearing when she humiliated him last night in front of a crowd of people that he wanted to impress. He suddenly recalled how much he resented her for that.
Veronica could do nothing but watch as Charlie removed her slippers. I’m not even going to twitch a toe, she thought. Struggling won’t work – Gerald built these stocks too damn well. If they want me to apologise, they can go jump. I will not apologise for asking a dweeby kid to turn down his music when it’s past 10pm. I will not apologise for getting this other cocky oik disciplined at work. They’ve already ignored me twice when I’ve told them to let me go. Any more and they’ll just get a grand sense of power by telling me no. I would actually just like my husband to stop gawping and call the police as I told him to! Why is he waiting?
Gerald was almost frozen to the spot. He didn’t want to watch but couldn’t tear his eyes away. They were going to tickle his wife? That was a horrible thought. Yes, tickling was innocuous and childish but one of the reasons he so worshipped Veronica was that she could hold her own and wasn’t able to be undermined under any circumstances. He had even witnessed her knock a grown man to the ground with a single punch whilst they were Christmas shopping the previous year and some stranger had touched her bum.
As her devoted husband, he valued over-and-above anything that she only allowed herself to be dominated by one person, in one scenario – by him, in their bedroom. These young men were treating something he held so dear with complete flippancy. All he could hope for was that she actually wasn’t ticklish, or that she would at least be able to pretend she wasn’t.
Charlie stood and looked at Veronica. ‘Ready?’ he teased.
Veronica steeled herself. She had no inkling what sensations she was about to experience. Being forced to laugh? That was stupid. If she didn’t want it to happen, it wouldn’t happen. When she had seen people tickled in the past, they seemed to get more frantic the more they fought. It stood to reason that people are most ticklish when they tense up. She therefore decided to go the other way and relax.
Charlie’s fingers closed in on her foot. As they made contact her toes twitched, beyond her control. She held her breath, then made herself let it go. He skated his fingers with feather-light touches all around her right sole as though it was a mini rink. The sensations felt strange but pleasurable. Occasionally, he stroked across a particular area or strengthened his touch and Veronica felt something disconcerting stir deep inside her, but she managed to maintain relaxation, even when Charlie looked a bit frustrated and began to do the same to both soles at once.
Charlie was frustrated. She was looking at him as though he wasn’t even touching her. Aren’t people suppose to explode into laughter when their feet are tickled? he thought.
‘Bor-ing!’ announced Jack. And Charlie gave up.
Gerald was relieved and allowed himself to blink for the first time in five minutes.
‘My turn!’ said Jack and approached Veronica’s legs. She looked at him with her characteristically stoic expression. Jack tried not to be unnerved. ‘How about……here!?’ he said and, in an attempt to catch her by surprise, he dug his fingers in just above her knees. She gave a brief start. ‘Oh, she’s wriggling!’ he said, and looked up at her. She was frowning.
‘Yes, you might too if someone did that to you. Are you waiting for me to laugh? Would you like to put an ice pick through each thigh muscle for good measure…?’ she said. ‘Get off!’
Gerald smiled. That’s my Veronica, he thought proudly.
Jack stepped back, his failure witnessed by all. Charlie stepped forward. This was becoming less of a game and more of a mission. ‘You forget that we already know somewhere where you’re ticklish,’ he said and indicated her armpits.
Veronica took a deep, slow breath in and released it, her expression unchanged. This time she was a little concerned as her reaction had taken her by surprise before. Charlie wiggled his fingers towards her with a childish teasing action but the obvious psychological warfare tactic just irritated her.
His fingers made contact with the material of her shirt. He pressed gently until he could feel the smooth skin of her armpits. It was an unusual sensation, for sure. But again, it verged on the pleasurable. Charlie frowned and pressed a little more. She felt the sensation increase in intensity, but she increased her resistance to match it. Charlie was aware that she was just looking him, unimpressed and waiting for him to give up. He did so, and stepped back, looking at the floor. This was humiliating.
Gerald was relaxed. His confidence in his wife had returned. He was turned on and couldn’t wait to get home to make love to the strongest woman he knew. ‘Okay, boys,’ he said, with a very deliberate use of the word boys, ‘you’ve done your best and it wasn’t good enough. It’s time to leave my wife alone, if you don’t mind—’
‘I have one more turn!’ said Jack, who zipped behind Veronica and knelt down. The padded back support was only about six inches wide. Mrs Townsend’s ribs were the only place left that he could think of. He dug in with the same determination as he had on her knees, expecting her to wail with laughter.
‘Ouch!’ said Veronica. Jack stopped. ‘Are you stupid? Did you not register that I said I’m pregnant? And you’re digging in to my body? That’s enough! Let. Me. Go!’ she shouted at Charlie. Charlie nodded to Jack, who began turning the winch.
‘Are you okay, honey?’ asked Gerald.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Just come home.’
As the winch turned and her arms lowered, Charlie watched Mrs Townsend’s summer shirt begin to re-cover her belly and marvelled at how flat her navel looked. It was no longer the innie that he had observed during her summer sunbathes, nor was it the outie that it may eventually become as she got further into her pregnancy. It was flush to the surface of her tummy.
‘Wait…’ he said to Jack.
Jack stopped turning the winch, ‘What? Why? We have to let her go,’ he said.
Charlie didn’t answer, instead he just looked around the basement. He stepped over to a cupboard that contained all sorts of household items. After a moment’s deliberation he picked up something and returned with it hidden behind his back.
‘What are you doing?’ said Veronica, getting ready to completely lose her temper.
In response, Charlie held up a cotton bud, then lowered it.
Veronica looked him dead in the eye and was about to unleash Hell when, for the second time that day, she was caught unawares…
Gerald was about to turn the key in the ignition when he realised something was happening and he had to watch the screen again. He looked closer and saw that Charlie was slowly teasing a circle around the edge of Veronica’s belly button with a Q-tip. She seemed to be in suspended animation…
Charlie was now looking intently into Mrs Townsend’s eyes. She was meeting his gaze but holding her breath, which indicated to him that this was having an effect. He played with the speed and direction of the cotton bud, which caused a slight wobble to her posture. Her face showed some subtle signs of inner turmoil. Charlie was intrigued and, as he gently increased the pressure and twirled the bud around the very centre of her navel, her eyebrows began to raise in the middle…
Veronica felt sweat appearing on her upper lip. She wasn’t going to be able to keep from breathing much longer. As Charlie twisted, twirled and circled her tummy button she could do nothing to prevent how it felt. She was pregnant. It wasn’t like she could tense her abs or anything. She could see in Charlie’s eyes an expanding sense of achievement and she broke her stare to slowly look sideways to her husband who was watching her on tenterhooks. There was a pleading, almost apologetic look in her eyes…
‘Do me a favour, Jack,’ said Charlie, ‘try her ribs again. But this time, be gentle.’
Jack smiled and did so, this time probing softly at her lower ribcage.
A novel tingle washed through Veronica’s entire being. She closed her eyes as the feeling built. A few pulses of contained laughter caused her body to convulse.
Charlie was fascinated at how, despite what was beginning to happen to her, Mrs Townsend was managing to keep a straight face. ‘Keep it going, Jack,’ said Charlie, putting the cotton bud to one side and teasing her belly button with the very tip of his finger, ‘Make it unpredictable.’
Jack mixed his touch between gentle and firm as he played up, down and around Mrs Townsend’s ribs, causing her to begin twisting in the seat. The convulsions increased in frequency until she had to open her eyes. Gerald was now wide-eyed and pale as he watched. The look in her eyes told him what was about to happen next. ‘No……’ he said, reflexly.
Confused by what was happening to her body and her mind, Veronica couldn’t hold her breath any longer and the feelings on her ribcage were becoming more intense. Every time she tried to resist it, she was caught out by the touch on her navel and vice versa. She couldn’t fight this battle on two fronts! This realisation and the need to breathe allowed laughter to rapidly bubble up from within and Gerald witnessed the exact moment his wife cracked.
To Charlie is was an incomparable sight. Mrs Townsend’s face transformed from her usual indomitable exterior and she crumbled into an aria of giggles.
‘Hey-heyyy!’ called Jack, victoriously.
Gerald rapidly switched on the ignition, threw his car into gear and burned out of the car park.
‘What’s the matter, Mrs Townsend?’ asked Charlie with a triumphant grin.
Veronica looked at him but couldn’t answer, ensnared as she was in a stream of overwhelming giggles. Charlie couldn’t help but be captivated – the laughter caused her to shine like a summer sky. She looked so beautiful.
‘It doesn’t sound like she wants to confess!’ said Jack.
‘Oh, I’m sure she does…’ he said and his heart leapt as it occurred to him that her feet might now be a viable target, ‘You keep going there,’ he said to Jack and he let his fingers walk down her leg and over the stocks.
Veronica just watched him go, laughing the whole time. She was confused as to why, when she was able to resist just one person tickling her before, she couldn’t now. It was as though her defences had truly been disintegrated and Jack was becoming more adept at tickling her ribs by the second.
Charlie again knelt at Mrs Townsend’s feet and, with Jack hidden at the other end and Mr Townsend focussed on his driving, he felt able to fully revel in the task without spectators. Her feet jostled and twisted in front of him as she fought against the torment on her ribcage. He allowed his face to get close and take an exploratory lick in the centre of her right sole. Her foot jolted and attempted to retract but was held in place by the stocks. It was then that he noticed the cleat hooks on top of the stocks and knew what to do with them. After a quick hunt, he found a ball of thick twine and made loops around each of Mrs Townsend’s toes, taking care to use knots that wouldn’t cut off the circulation. He then pressed her feet back into a flex and secured the twine the cleats. And, voila! Her feet were immobilised!
‘Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell us, Mrs Townsend?’ said Charlie.
She wished she could. As she had been watching him take the time to tie her toes she had wanted nothing more than to tell him to stop, but she couldn’t!
‘She’s never going to crack!’ said Jack, enjoying himself, ‘Just do what you’ve got to do!’
Charlie didn’t need telling twice. He sank down enthusiastically at Mrs Townsend’s soles and began licking and nibbling them all over.
Veronica shrieked in surprise as these new sensations trembled through her. She was quickly realising exactly how ticklish her feet were. She shook her head because she was unable to cry the word No! but it made no difference — nobody was watching her. Jack was busy behind her, plucking away at her ribcage like a masterful harpist, and Charlie was actually licking her feet and… chewing on her toes! This threw her into full-blown hysterics.
‘I don’t know what you’re doing, but it’s working!’ called Jack.
Charlie was in heaven — the large soft soles of Mrs Townsend’s feet on his tongue and her wonderful smooth toes in his mouth felt so good and the fact that it was having this effect on her was the biggest turn-on he’d ever experienced.
Gerald sped down the motorway. There was not enough energy in his pale face to form any kind of expression. He was subjected to the sounds of his wife being forced into peals of laughter by two younger men and it seemed as though he’d been forgotten by everyone in that room. In the distance he could see the tunnel that had previously interrupted their video call. He had no idea how long it would take to get home, especially if he hit traffic. As Veronica began to produce sounds that sounded especially desperate and regressive, he mustered the energy to shout, hoping it would frighten the boys into stopping. ‘I’m coming home, Veronica! I’ll be there soon!’
There was a brief pause as Jack and Charlie looked to the iPad, giving Veronica a chance to take a breath. ‘Oh. You still there?’ said Jack.
Gerald picked up his phone in fury and was taken aback by Veronica’s face. She actually had tears in her eyes! His Goddess was being forced to cry with laughter!
‘I’m coming, Vee!’ he called.
‘Yeah, whatever,’ said Jack and wrapped his hands around her body, adroitly probing at two very sensitive spots on her ribcage, just under her breasts.
Veronica’s eyes widened and she tried to say something to Gerald, but the ability to form words was taken from her: ‘Lobloblobloblobloblobllll!’ she cried, thrashing her head from side to side and collapsing into helpless giggles.
Gerald looked on, utterly bemused. He was about to demand that they leave her alone when he entered the tunnel. The connection was lost.
Charlie saw the connection go down and turned back to Mrs Townsend’s delicious, prone soles.
‘What the—?’ said Jack.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Charlie, not wanting to stop.
‘My hands are wet,’ Jack replied.
Spotting that Jack was now standing up and his private foot-play session was no longer private, Charlie stopped. ‘What do you—?’ he was cut off mid-sentence by a sight he had not expected. The front of Mrs Townsend’s shirt was soaked through. ‘What happened?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Jack.
Veronica, meanwhile, was catching her breath and coming to terms with the fact that she was incredibly ticklish. A fact that she had not known until this point in her life and which led to a feeling of confusion — she hated losing control but there was something very sexy about having control taken from her in such a physical, and seemingly innocent, manner. As such, and having just laughed more than she can ever remember doing in her life, her emotions were tempered. ‘Are you going to let me go now?’ she asked.
‘Are you okay?’ asked Charlie, standing at her side.
‘Yes, I’m fine.’
‘Where did that come from?’
Veronica looked down at her wet shirt. ‘I’m pregnant, Charlie. You work it out.’
Charlie was still puzzled, but Jack had worked it out. He reached forward and undid the top button of her shirt.
‘What are you doing, Jack?’ said Charlie.
Jack said nothing and undid the second button. Mrs Townsend’s alluring cleavage was revealed.
‘Jack!’ said Charlie, grabbing his wrist. ‘Don’t!’
Jack looked at him and back at Mrs Townsend. He was cocky, but uncertain. ‘I just want to check you’re okay,’ he said.
She cocked her head. His reason was as transparent as 20-year-old male reasons could get but she said nothing.
He pulled his wrist free from Charlie’s grasp and pulled open her remaining buttons. Charlie and Jack were lost for words — Mrs Townsend’s bra was soaked through. Milky droplets trickled over her round stomach. Jack spoke without tearing his eyes away, ‘She had a very sensitive belly button. I wonder what the rest of her tummy is like…’
Charlie’s passion was again enflamed. Jack’s fingers were already edging towards her.
As Veronica sensed how ticklish this was about to feel, she felt an unfamiliar thrill of anticipation shiver through her. ‘Oh, no…’ she said.
Charlie mirrored Jack and their agile fingertips found opposite sides of Mrs Townsend’s pregnant belly. Her reaction was again magical as she sank back into a current of sweet titterings. Having lived next to her for so long and never seen her do anything more than give a pleasant smile, Charlie was enchanted with how human she felt to him now. She wasn’t just some iconic woman next door who he could ogle on her sunbed in the summertime, she was a complete woman who told him off, but could also laugh like an angel.
Both Charlie and Jack had quickly discovered a passion for tickling and realised how to do it well, rather than the clumsy flirtations they had used on the girls at college. Their fingertips danced tenderly and perceptively over Mrs Townsend’s skin, giving full respect to the fact that she was pregnant. They both independently discovered the corresponding place on either of her to be the most sensitive — where the dome of her pregnant tummy met the natural curve of her waist. They found it at the same time and shared a look of glee as she squealed and arched her back in the seat.
‘Ooh! I think we’ve sound the spot, right, Charlie?’ said Jack.
‘I think so!’ Charlie answered.
Again, Veronica could do nothing but giggle and look from one boy to the other.
‘How about we keep one hand there and check out her armpits?’ said Jack.
‘Good idea!’ said Charlie.
‘No! Hee hee hee! Not there! Hee hee hee! Ple-hee-hease!’ Veronica spoke through her giggles. She was struggling to cope but, at the same time, she was curious to know how it would affect her.
While Charlie and Jack kept one hand in motion at her waist, they both let their other hands crawl in tandem up her ribs and inside the material of her shirt.
The build of anticipation caused a rapid increase in sensitivity that made her lift off the seat with squeals of desperation as they reached the smooth, slick surfaces of her armpits. She leant forward in a vain attempt to escape their touch.
‘This is a good one!’ said Charlie.
Jack nodded agreement and began to walk his hand behind her, lightly tracing over her back until he found the clip of her bra and, with a dexterity that he didn’t know he possessed, unclipped it.
Veronica was unable to say anything — the incessant tickling at her tummy and armpit causing her to giggle without pause. She felt the bra loosen and threw herself back in an attempt to trap Jack’s hand, but he moved it just it time. She looked at him and wanted to tell him she knew what he’d done but before she could gather her voice, he went back to her armpit and she was lost again to writhing hysterics.
With a sense of concern and excitement, Charlie noticed Mrs Townsend’s bra begin to shake loose. He looked to Jack who was obviously very turned on by the fact. ‘I think your bra has come undone,’ he said and slowed his tickling.
‘I know!’ she managed to say, ‘J-Jack just unc-clipped it!’
Charlie stopped altogether, followed by Jack. Veronica rested her head back, licked her dry lips and tried to slow her breathing. They stood in silence.
Finally, Jack spoke. ‘I want to see what happens if we tickle your tits.’
Charlie looked at Mrs Townsend with gobsmacked embarrassment. She couldn’t help but laugh, ‘Have you ever been complimented on your eloquence?’ she asked Jack.
Jack shook his head. Veronica considered for some moments, ‘You’d better do it quickly, then. You’ll never get this chance again.’
Charlie’s mouth dropped open. Jack almost climaxed on the spot. He then ran over to a work bench, opened a draw and found exactly what he was looking for. He returned with a pair of scissors.
‘What are you doing with those!?’ Veronica asked.
‘I need to cut your bra and shirt off.’
‘Do you know how much these cost?’
‘I’ll buy you new ones!’ Jack said and made quick work of cutting away her shirt and the straps of her bra.
Charlie was frozen to the spot as Jack peeled away the bra, setting Mrs Townsend’s full, firm breasts free. Veronica basked in the moment. She had always enjoyed the power she felt when she permitted men to see her breasts for the first time. Jack gulped as he witnessed perfection and set down the scissors. For a while they just stared.
Veronica was the first to speak, ‘Well…?’
Charlie and Jack looked at each other then took a step forward. With shaking hands they delicately began to stroke the smooth skin of her breasts, soon touching them in ways that their primal selves desired. Occasionally their hands criss-crossed as they followed urges to play with both at the same time. Veronica closed her eyes and rested her head back, enjoying the sensations.
Charlie suddenly felt a pang of guilt for effectively participating in adultery. He altered his touch began to trace his fingertips over her breast and teased her armpit at the same time. She twitched and her mouth curled up at one corner. Charlie increased his tickling motions over her breast and a chuckle burst from her lips. Jack smiled and felt the need to join in, doing the same to her other breast. Mrs Townsend broke into a particularly feminine laugh. As they increased the speed of their touch, a tone of surprise entered her laughter, as though she had no idea this would be so effective.
Jack began to focus his touch around Mrs Townsend’s areola, gently increasing the pressure. Charlie noticed further desperation in her laugh and so did the same. Again she became lost to laughter but she seemed to be enjoying her torture. She looked back and forth between Charlie and Jack through watering eyes and they maintained eye contact until they felt their fingers become wet. Her breasts were dripping with milk, which ran over her tummy and began to soak the waistline of her shorts.
Tentatively at first, Jack brought his face close to her nipple and replaced his fingers with his mouth. Charlie said nothing but looked at her beautiful face. At this point he had forgotten what he was doing so she was no longer laughing. There was a welcoming look in her eyes.
He was about to lean forward when he noticed Mrs Townsend look over his shoulder. ‘Hello Honey,’ she said.
Charlie turned to see Mr Townsend standing at the foot of the basement stairs, glaring at them all. He was hold two shopping bags in one hand and a set of car keys in the other. He dropped both at the same time.
Jack stood bolt upright. Charlie and Jack both wondered if they could break through the narrow basement window and escape before Mr Townsend could pick up a hammer.
‘It’s time for you two to leave,’ said Veronica.
With the expressions of two cats who have found themselves in a kennel, Charlie and Jack both cautiously edged past Mr Townsend and hurried up the stairs.
Gerald stood in place as they passed, their youthful erections clearly straining at their jeans. He watched them go and heard them exit through the front door.
He turned to look at his wife, her hair ruffled, her make-up smeared, her breasts exposed and glistening with a mixture of sweat and milk. He didn’t know what to say.
She indicated the bag he had dropped on the floor, ‘Did you happen to get a vibrator?’
He nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Good. I think you should use it now.’
‘Okay,’ he said, a little spaced-out. He leant and picked up the bag.
‘And, Gerald, my love?’
‘Yes?’
‘Tilly will need to find an alternative. We are keeping these stocks.’
The End.
by Tamira K.
A female-led marriage is a difficult thing to explain to people outside of that situation. Well, explaining is actually quite easy; getting people who live more conventional lives to understand is the difficult part.
So considered Gerald Townsend as he drove his pregnant wife Veronica home after their trip to the local hardware superstore, the back of their trailer full with heavy-duty timber.
From his point-of-view, why would anyone not want to be in a relationship like this? He was a self-made, successful and wealthy bachelor before he and Veronica had met and it was delightful to at last meet a woman who was so clearly on his level in every respect. Every woman from his past was either subpar in terms of either intelligence, ambition or independence. Then there were the transparent gold-diggers. He got all he could out of all of them and moved on before it got complicated.
Veronica, on the other hand, was highly ambitious, smart and plainly not after him for anything other than himself. They had met at a business convention and he found it refreshing that she had made the first move. Well, kind of. In fact, she had made the first move by telling him to ask her for dinner. There was a dry humour to her manner and he very much appreciated that Veronica cut straight through any bullshit.
It also helped that he was intensely attracted to her. Their chemistry was instant. She was a physically impressive woman — 5’10” and curvy with a mane of curly strawberry-blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes. The fact that she had large breasts was obvious, but he was most attracted to how strong she looked. Until the moment he saw her, he assumed that his preference was for petite girls. But she fell into the physical category that he later discovered to be referred to on the Internet as “Thick: Athletic”. As he was over 6 feet tall and a regular gym-goer himself, he had grown tired of the young girls he could throw around and liked the fact that she appeared to be more of a challenge. The other thing that turned him on about her was their age difference — he’d never been with an older woman before and she was six years older than him, almost to the day.
After the convention and a relatively short period of long-distance dating, they both knew that this was a very rare connection that was working very well and decided to move in together. ‘We can only try,’ Veronica had said, ‘If it doesn’t work, we will chalk it up to experience and move on like adults: without bitterness or tribulation. If it does work, then we won’t have wasted any precious time.’ Gerald couldn’t argue with this, especially as he was able to work from any location within his company and hers was undoubtedly a nicer house than his — large, with a substantial garden, dual garage, basement and 12-person outdoor jacuzzi.
Female-Led Relationships, or FLR, was not a term Gerald had previously been familiar with. He had noticed that during their time together she had been the one to make most of the day-to-day decisions about the running of the home and the destinations for their weekends away. He largely agreed with her decisions so there was never any reason to debate them and the fact that she was happy to make decisions without consulting him meant that he could take a lot of the brainpower out of the hours when he wasn’t at work. The tasks that she assigned him when he was at home were a pleasure to fulfil because she only asked him to do things that were reasonable and within his means to do. If something required an outside expert, she would employ the right person to do it — generally of decent repute. A cowboy never stepped foot in their home.
It was during their time in the bedroom that she had first mentioned FLR. After an epic session of lovemaking during which he had brought her to orgasm several times, she said, ‘I’m very happy for you to take charge here.’
Gerald had smiled, ‘Only here?’
Her reply came with a very straight face, ‘Yes. You’re a man, Gerald, and I want you to be a man…in the bedroom. In the bedroom I need you. Outside the bedroom I like things how I like them. That’s one of the reasons we work so well — you also like things how I like them and I hate being challenged. But in the bedroom, I like you to take charge. I love what you do to me and how you make me feel. You’re a creative and attentive and domineering lover and I really like that. So, let us say this: in the bedroom, you are in charge. Outside of the bedroom, I make the decisions about our life. I will consult you if I think I need to but most of the time I won’t need to. Outside of the bedroom, this is a female-led relationship. What that means is pretty self-explanatory but I can give you some things to read if you need them. Do you agree?’
Gerald was somewhat surprised. He couldn’t help but smirk.
Veronica’s brow furrowed, ‘Do you agree?’
‘On one condition,’ he said.
‘Which condition?’ she asked, concerned.
‘That you agree to marry me.’
For the first time since he had known her (and possibly ever), Gerald saw tears in her eyes. It meant everything to him that he was the only one who could penetrate her defences.
One month later they had a combined wedding and honeymoon at a luxury resort in the Maldives. Veronica was now Mrs Veronica Townsend and, during the trip she also become pregnant. The most perfect woman he had ever met was going to be the mother to his son or daughter. Gerald worshipped his wife. Why wouldn’t he? He considered himself to be an impressive individual and not only had she managed to tame him, she was effectively dominating him in every aspect of his life. In a way, it was even the case with sex — he was only in charge in the bedroom because she allowed him to be! This was the way she had always lived her life and woe betide anybody who didn’t meet her standards.
A case in point had just taken place in the hardware store where an overly casual 19-year-old shop assistant, with the name tag JACK, had tried to blag his way through selling Veronica and Gerald some overpriced materials that would have been wholly unsuitable for purpose. Gerald was aware, but this little runt was utterly oblivious, to the hole he was digging for himself. First of all, it had been Veronica who had asked for his assistance, but he then referred all his answers to Gerald. (This was a bad move.) Secondly, Veronica knew more about the timber she required than she was letting on. His third mistake was constantly calling a customer—who happened to be Veronica’s husband—“mate”, possibly in an attempt to demonstrate how, even though he had probably only been in the workforce for around a month, he was not a subordinate to anyone, including paying customers. Paying customers who he was trying to con.
Gerald just stood back and prepared to watch the fireworks. That’s when a the branch manager walked past. Veronica calmly called him over and, without ever raising her voice, savaged the two men standing in front of her. By the time she had finished, the manager was promising to improve staff training and she had received a 15% discount for the materials that she should have been shown in the first place. Jack even wheeled the timber to the car and loaded it up for them with a face like a smacked arse.
He threw them a resentful glance as they laughed and got in their car.
— — — — —
The night before they had hosted their joint birthday barbecue — Gerald was turning 32 and Veronica was turning 38. Friends and relatives ate and chatted and took advantage of the summer evening. As the evening wore on, many people headed home and the final eight slipped on bathing costumes and into the jacuzzi.
Veronica’s friend Tilly, who was a regular guest at their home and who would have been more of Gerald’s type in a past life, was a lot less reserved than Veronica. Tilly was the last to step into the jacuzzi, trying unsuccessfully not to spill her Chardonnay as she became distracted by Veronica’s cleavage, ‘Jesus, Vee! Could your tits get any bigger?’
Veronica ignored the comment. Dennis, a work friend of Gerald’s, nodded.
‘What are you nodding at, Dennis?’ asked Veronica.
‘I was just going to ask how far along in your pregnancy are you now?’ said Dennis.
‘I just reached the five-month mark.’
‘Well, I think you’re selfish,’ said Tilly, ‘taking up all the boob space with your dairy factory. Can’t you share some with me?’ she laughed then lowered her voice and asked, ‘What are your neighbours like?’
‘They’re alright,’ said Veronica, ‘The Cotters. I don’t talk to them much. A couple in their fifties—’
‘Do they have a son?’ asked Tilly.
‘Yes. He’s about 18 or 19. Bit of a nerdy looking—’
‘Yep!’ Tilly interrupted, ‘Well, don’t look now, but I think he’s enjoying the sight of your guests in bikinis.’
Veronica and Gerald turned slowly to see her less-than-subtle young neighbour with the top half of his face peering from his first floor bedroom window, like some kind of Kilroy/Chad version of a Peeping Tom. Whilst the lights were off in his room, he obviously didn’t realise how completely he was being illuminated by their outdoor lights and the curtain closest to him was shaking at a very suspicious tempo. Veronica’s eyes met his and he comically dipped straight out of view.
The group in the jacuzzi laughed. ‘Well, he probably wasn’t looking at me!’ said Tilly, topping up her wine, ‘My tits are smaller than Dennis’s!’
‘What’s your next conquest, Tilly?’ asked one of the other guests. Tilly was known to be a local community socialite.
Tilly deflated, ‘Don’t ask me how, but I’ve somehow managed to get roped into helping out with the village fete!’
Veronica knew that her friend was always offering to help with things that were far from being within her field of expertise. ‘What are you doing now?’
‘I’m helping out with a medieval set-up at the fete and it’s a nightmare!’ said Tilly.
‘Why?’ asked Gerald.
‘Well, I’ve got to organise costumes and milkmaids and a banquet for the kids and it’s so much work! Then, just today, one of the suppliers left me in the lurch!’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Dennis.
‘Well, it’s medieval, right? So I need to get torture equipment,’
‘Ah,’ said Veronica, ‘the well-known stalwarts of children’s entertainment — torture devices!’
‘Yeah! They love all that Horrible Histories stuff. So I need stocks and pillories and all of that, so that people can be put in them and have their photo taken for a donation to the local charities. Only, one of the guys who said he can help me out with that, now says he can’t. So I’ve only got one measly set of stocks that you stand up and stick you neck and wrists through.’
‘What else do you need?’ asked Veronica.
‘At least one other thing!’ said Tilly, ‘I was thinking of some of those stocks you sit down and put your ankles in… It’s amazing how easily pleased some people are.’
‘Gerald can make you one of those,’ said Veronica.
Gerald looked at his wife, surprised to be volunteered, but didn’t argue.
‘Ooh! Really?’ said Tilly, ‘I didn’t know you were a dab-hand at carpentry!’
‘By the look of his reaction just then, neither did he!’ said Dennis, inspiring group laughter.
‘Gerald can turn his hand to anything,’ said Veronica, calmly shutting down the laughter. She looked to Gerald.
‘Yeah, I’ll do it. No problem,’ said Gerald.
‘And he’ll make something better than just silly little ankle stocks,’ Veronica added.
‘Great!’ said Tilly, ‘You’re a life-saver!’
As a result of this conversation, Gerald was now driving home with a trailer full of lumber.
‘I’m still not 100% sure about this,’ said Gerald.
‘You’ll be fine,’ said Veronica. You’ve got the images I picked off the Internet to help you.
‘Couldn’t we get a proper carpenter to do it?’
‘We could, but I already said you would do it, and I want to be proud to show off your work,’ she said.
He caught her eye and felt inspired. He would do anything to please her. As they pulled into the front driveway, they saw the couple next door loading suitcases into their car. Greetings were exchanged.
‘Off on holiday?’ asked Gerald.
‘That’s right!’ said Mrs Cotter, ‘Two weeks of getting away from it all!’
‘What’s all that wood for?’ asked Mr Cotter.
‘Just a personal project,’ said Gerald as he assisted Veronica from the car.
Mrs Cotter spied her belly, ‘Ooh! Exciting! How long is it now?’
‘Five months,’ said Veronica, smiling politely as she headed for the front door. ‘Enjoy your holiday!’ As Gerald unlocked the door for her she muttered, ‘Perhaps I should hang a sign round my neck, counting the days.’ Gerald smiled and went back to the trailer.
‘I’d help you, but we’re running a bit late,’ said Mr Cotter. ‘If you need anything, ask our Charlie. He’s too old to come with his mum and dad on holiday, apparently. And it’ll do him good to get away from that bloody Playstation!’
‘I should be fine, thanks,’ said Gerald. They all waved goodbye and Gerald carried the first lot of wood into the basement.
‘Wouldn’t you be better off making it at ground level?’ asked Veronica.
‘I’ve been thinking about it,’ said Gerald. ‘The garage is full, I don’t want to do it outside in case it gets wet. The way I’m going to make it means it can be taken in four parts and reassembled wherever it goes. Plus, I can hide it from you and give you the big reveal when it’s done!’
‘Very well,’ said Veronica, ‘Whatever will help you make the best product.’
— — — — —
One week and a lot of extra-curricular sawing and hammering later, Gerald escorted Veronica and Tilly into the basement. A tarpaulin covered the large object in the middle of the room.
‘Ready?’ asked Gerald.
‘Yes!’ said Tilly.
He pulled back the tarpaulin to reveal a work of art — a long wooden bench with a leather seat and a sturdy, padded back beam to rest against. Leather wrist straps hung from a steel wire and a metal pulley positioned at the top of the beam. In front were some ankle stocks, again padded with leather. The whole thing had been varnished and lacquered.
Gerald looked to Veronica who had a proud look in her eyes.
‘Wow!’ said Tilly, circling the stocks. ‘You did this in one week!? This is brilliant! Are you sure you’ll be able to get it out the basement thought?’
‘Yeah,’ said Gerald. ‘There are some strong latches holding it all together. We’ll carry it out in pieces.’
‘Great… Where did the leather wrist straps come from, Gerald? Your own personal collection?’
‘No. I got them online. But only the best,’ he said.
‘Ha! You put a padlock on the ankle stocks?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Thorough! And what are these for?’ Tilly asked, touching some cleat hooks that were attached to the tops of the ankle stocks.
‘I don’t know,’ said Gerald, ‘I just followed what was in the pictures.’
As Tilly touched the ankle stocks they slid horizontally along bench, ‘What the…? Why do these move?’
‘Well, everyone is a different height. So, when your bum is in the seat, you might need to move these out or in, depending on how long their legs are.’ He demonstrated that the ankle stocks had about 12 inches of movement along the lower end of the bench. ‘And it can lock in place, wherever you want to put it. I’ve some a similar thing with the wrist straps.’ He stepped behind the back support and turned a winch in both directions, lowering and raising the wrist straps.
‘Well, aren’t you a handy man to have around…?’ said Tilly. ‘Keep ahold of him, Vee, or I’ll nab him!’
Gerald looked to his beautiful wife. She loved that her man had done himself proud.
‘Brilliant!’ said Tilly. ‘This is well above and beyond what was needed! We might even be able to sell it afterwards! Okay, I’ve gotta dash! I’ll see you at the fete!’ She ran up the stairs and let herself out.
‘She’s always running around,’ said Gerald.
Veronica said nothing. She just kept looking at him with understated appreciation. He stepped up to her and put his arms around her waist as far as he could, her pregnant belly now a definite obstacle.
She looked at the stocks. ‘Maybe we could use those wrist straps in the bedroom sometime,’ she said.
Gerald looked surprised, ‘Oh, you like the idea of that, do you?’ Veronica gave a look that indicated she was open to it. Gerald felt a swell of passion, ‘Maybe we should go and talk about that…’ and led her upstairs to the bedroom.
Once in the bedroom, he gentle laid her on the four-poster super-king sized bed and slowly undressed her while asking her questions.
‘Have you ever been tied down before?’ he asked.
’Never,’ she said.
‘Why not?’
‘It just never occurred to me. I never found a man who made me want to give up complete control.’
‘And you want to lose complete control?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘You’ve never told me this before.’
’Some things have to be discovered along the way,’ she said. ‘Just because we’re married, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t surprise each other.’
‘This is true,’ he said, laying on the bed behind her and gently running a hand down her side. She wriggled and firmly grabbed his hand. ‘Something wrong?’
‘I just think I’ve hit another phase of pregnancy. All sensations are enhanced.’
‘Oh, really?’ he said, turning her onto her back and raising an eyebrow. She looked up at him, not knowing what he had in mind. ‘In that case, we shouldn’t waste the opportunity to see what happens if I do this…’ With that, he moved to the lower end of the bed and performed long, lingering oral sex on her. Veronica could not have been more satisfied and, after he had made love to her, they fell into a very cozy and satisfied nap.
It was 10pm when they were awoken by loud, thumping music. It had been light when they fell asleep and now it was dark outside. ‘What time is it?’ asked Gerald.
‘Too late for whatever that is,’ replied Veronica as she got up and put on her nightgown.
Gerald walked over to the bedroom window. The house next door was in full-on rave mode, with a DJ, laser lights and around young adults drinking, dancing and splashing about in the swimming pool. ‘I guess Charlie is taking advantage of his parents being away.’
‘Not for long,’ said Veronica, putting on some slippers.
‘I’ll go,’ said Gerald.
‘No. You make me a snack. I won’t be long,’ said Veronica. She went to the house next door and knocked. It was answered by a boy she didn’t know. ‘Where’s Charlie?’ she asked. The boy pointed through the house to the garden. Veronica walked through, gaining attention from everyone she passed. None of the attendees expected a tall, blonde pregnant lady in a silk nightgown and slippers to be making an appearance. In the garden, however, everyone was too busy shouting, dancing and jumping in the outdoor pool to notice. She could see Charlie at the far end of the garden with another boy she recognised from somewhere. They were flirting with a group of girls. Veronica stepped over to the DJ and spoke into his ear. The music immediately ceased.
Everyone looked round. Charlie walked over with his group in tow. Veronica could now place where she knew the other boy from — it was Jack, the insolent assistant from the hardware superstore. ‘What’s going on?’ said Charlie. Despite his efforts to dress for the occasion, he was unable to hide his nerdiness.
‘Your music is too loud,’ said Veronica.
‘Oh, come on, Mrs Townsend!’ said Charlie, ‘It’s only ten o’clock!’
‘Yes. And I need to sleep. If you can’t keep your party quiet, you will have to finish it.’ She looked at Jack, who obviously recognised her and was still bitter. She held his eye until he looked at the ground.
‘But it’s my birthday,’ said Charlie.
‘Happy birthday. Now, keep it down, please,’ said Veronica and she turned to leave.
‘What if we don’t?’ said Jack.
‘Shut up, Jack!’ hissed Charlie. ‘But actually, he’s right. What if we don’t? I don’t care if you tell my parents! I’m not a kid!’
Veronica stopped, turned round and slowly stepped over to him. ‘Why would I talk to your parents? As you point out, you are an adult, so I’m talking to you like an adult: If I hear anything more from you this evening, I will get this party shut down.’
Charlie had no answer and was overly aware of the stupid, slack-lipped look on his face as everyone he knew witnessed him get cut off at the knees by a pregnant woman in fluffy slippers. It was confusing to resent someone so much who he had lusted after for so many years.
‘You understand,’ said Veronica with upmost condescension, ‘Good.’ She calmly turned and walked away, watched by everyone with a mixture of intimidation, lust and umbrage, all of which added fuel to the aplomb with which she left the house.
Gerald sat in the living room with a plate of light sandwiches as his wife returned home and closed the front door. ‘How did that go?’ he asked as she sat on the sofa and turned on the TV.
‘I’m happy,’ she said. ‘Shall we watch a film?’
Over the course of the next two hours, through the living room window Veronica happily noted a regular stream of partygoers leaving the house next door.
What she didn’t see was Charlie as he said goodbye to the last guest. His highly-publicised birthday pool party had been reduced to a house party. While this could have still been good, it wasn’t what everyone else signed up for and, because Charlie wasn’t the most charismatic of personalities, person-by-person they had made their excuses and left.
He stood in the shadows of his front garden for a fifteen minutes, watching Mr and Mrs Townsend through the blinds of their living room window, illuminated by the blue light of their television screen. She wasn’t being kept awake by him — she just wanted to spoil his fun.
— — — —*—
The following morning Gerald woke up horny. Veronica’s comments about being tied up had infiltrated his dreams and he had abstract images of her tied to the bed which woke him up earlier than usual. He looked at her and smiled to himself — even in her sleep, she had a look that would make most men feel one-inch tall.
Instead, he picked up his phone. While the idea of tying her down was hot, he wasn’t exactly sure what he would do once he had her in that position. Therefore, he spent some time surveying BDSM and domination web sites for inspiration.
‘It’s a little early for porn, isn’t it?’ said Veronica, making him jump.
Gerald saw the naked bodies that populated the pages he was reading, ‘Oh, it’s not porn. I was just doing some reading.’
‘Sure. That’s why I look at web sites with nudie pictures on them too: the articles,’ she said as she swung her legs out of bed, stood up and made her way to the bathroom, throwing a wry smile back at him.
‘I’m telling the truth,’ he said.
‘Tell it to the tent that you’re pitching in the bedsheets,’ she said as she closed the bathroom door.
It was a hot and sunny day. Gerald opened the windows and patio doors before making a continental breakfast for them both. Veronica appeared after her morning shower in a loose red summer blouse, denim shorts that still fit her miraculously well and her slippers. Gerald pulled out her chair and gently pushed it in for her as she sat.
They ate breakfast to the sound of birds in the garden as she checked the stock market round-up for the week on her laptop. Meanwhile, Gerald’s mind was racing with all the information he had read that morning and an erection that would not go away. Thankfully, they had no plans for the day and the bedroom was his dominion. He waited until Veronica had finished her breakfast. She spoke without looking up, ‘What’s on your mind, Gerald? You’re watching me like a dog waiting to be fed.’
‘Come with me,’ he said and led her by the hand into the basement and stood before the stocks. ‘This will be gone in a week. It would be a shame to waste it.’
‘You really liked that bondage idea, didn’t you?’ said Veronica. Gerald grinned in reply. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Get on,’ he said.
Veronica sat on the leather seat. Whilst she knew her husband wasn’t familiar with such activities, it gave her a little twinge of excitement to be getting into this position and she was very curious as to what he would do. He helped her to lift her legs until they were straight out in front of her and resting in the leather-padded ankle stocks. He adjusted them to their fullest capacity—Veronica was one of the longer-legged users he had accounted for in his design—and clipped them into place. Then he brought down the top of the stocks. They were a snug fit. ‘How does that feel?’ he said, maintaining a balance between Mr Dominant and Mr I-Want-To-Make-Sure-Your-Feet-Still-Have-Circulation.
‘Very good. The leather padding you’ve put on this is actually extremely comfortable. I could watch TV in this.’
‘It’s funny you should say that,’ he said as he lifted her wrists, one at a time, into the wrist straps and left them hanging quite low, with her hands at shoulder height.
‘Oh?’
By way of explanation, he stepped over to a shelf directly in front of her where he had rested an iPad while she was in the shower. He propped it up and dialled a number.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked.
Gerald’s pocket rang, he answered it and his face appeared on the iPad. ‘I want to watch you,’ he said answering his phone. ‘I want to watch you as you think about the position you’ve put yourself in.’ Seeing the doubtful look on Veronica’s face, he was even more doubtful that he was getting this right. Leaving a submissive to get more and more turned on as they consider their predicament was one of the tips he had read on one of the domination forums. He only hoped that it would work on Veronica, given a little more time. He considered that it was new to them both and Veronica probably just needed some time to get into the right headspace.
‘Why?’ asked Veronica, ‘Where are you going to be?’
‘I’m just going to take a leisurely drive,’ he answered.
‘A drive? You mean, to the pub?’ Though her voice was calm, her subtext was undeniable: this was not what she had in mind.
Gerald maintained composure as he approached and caressed her cheek, ‘No. Not to the pub, my dear,’ thankfully the answer came to him in a flash, ‘To a BDSM shop.’
‘Oh…’ said Veronica, a little turned on.
‘That’s right,’ he said, pleased to have hit the right note, ‘and I’ll be able to watch you the whole time with this,’ he pointed to the iPad and headed for the stairs.
‘Just one thing,’ she said. He raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘Shouldn’t you have undressed me first?’
Indeed he should have but he had been too eager to tie her up. He decided to mask the mistake, ‘All in good time, my dear,’ he said and walked up the stairs, quickly Googling for the nearest store that sold BDSM items. As he got into the car he discovered that the nearest shop was 25 miles away. He would have to be very good at keeping her entertained for the hour it would take him to make the trip.
He clipped the phone into its windscreen holder and could see his beautiful wife in the stocks, looking at him. He smiled and swiftly reversed out of the drive but as he did so, he almost hit Jack as he was was about to cross the driveway. ‘Easy!’ shouted Jack.
Gerald wound down his window. ‘Sorry!’ They recognised each other but Jack just glared at him with attitude. ‘Just on my way into town,’ said Gerald.
‘Well, try and get there without knocking me over!’ said Jack. Gerald nodded and drove away.
Jack made his way to the Cotter residence and knocked on the door. Charlie answered, somewhat depressed. ‘Come in,’ he said.
‘Did I tell you your neighbours are huge dickheads?’ asked Jack.
‘I know that,’ said Charlie.
‘They got me in trouble at work — complained because I wasn’t calling them Sir and Madam!’ he emphasised the snootiness of such behaviour. ‘I thought you said you’ve fancied her for years.’
‘I have,’ Charlie admitted.
‘She’s got big tits, but I couldn’t fancy someone who is such a bitch,’ said Jack. Charlie didn’t answer. ‘What are we going to do? It’s too nice out there to stay in playing FIFA.’
Charlie was sulking. Jack kicked him in the thigh. Charlie chased him into the garden and punched him in the shoulder.
‘Ha! At least I got you out here!’ said Jack.
Charlie picked up a frisbee and threw it to the far end of the garden.
— — — — —
Gerald was half way to his destination when Veronica asked, ‘So, what are you going to do to me when you get back?’
‘I can’t give that away, Veronica. You will just have to wonder…’
This was pretty much the theme of their conversation since he had left her and he was beginning to regret doing so. At this point, he had forgotten all the things he had read that morning and had no idea how he would make the experience more exciting than just being in bed. He hoped that the adult toy shop would provide some inspiration.
As he was driving he spotted one more thing that he hadn’t considered, ‘Oh, dear,’ he said.
‘What’s wrong?’ said Veronica.
‘I’m about to go through a tunnel. If I cut out—’ At that point, the connection was lost.
Veronica shook her head. She appreciated that Gerald was trying something new. She just wished he’d planned it a bit better. Just then something hit the side of the house. She looked up through a narrow, dusty window that was at ground level. It was probably a bird. Sometimes that happened. Last summer a starling had flown into the patio doors and knocked itself out. Gerald took it to—
Veronica saw a large shadowy movement. That wasn’t a bird. She then saw the neighbours’ boy, Charlie, jumping over the fence. She saw him creeping with distinct lack of subtlety through their garden and approaching the house. Don’t look down here, Veronica thought, trying to employ telepathy. He was looking into their kitchen through the patio doors. What’s he after? she thought. He leant down and when he stood back up again he was holding a frisbee. That’s what hit the house. Now just go! and, just as it seemed as though the telepathy was working, he made a double-take and saw her staring at him through the window. He quickly looked away but stood still.
She then heard a distant voice calling, ‘Chuck it back!’
Charlie beckoned someone with his hand. A moment later someone else jumped over the fence and he was joined by… Oh, Christ. It’s that shop assistant kid. Veronica watched for a moment as they whispered and Charlie was obviously explaining what he had just seen. It was confirmed when the shop assistant looked past Charlie and in through the basement window, ‘Holy shit!’ he said to Charlie, unable to contain his excitement.
There was more mumbling between them until Veronica clearly heard the shop assistant say, ‘No, I just saw him driving away!’
Veronica was concerned. They knew Gerald wasn’t there. But they’re not going to break in… Shit, she thought, the patio doors are still open. At that moment she looked up and saw both young men looking at her. They then stepped out of view and she heard their footsteps on the kitchen floor. She quickly considered her options and tried to release one of the wrist straps with her teeth but the angle was too acute to grip it. Then she heard footsteps walking slowly down the stairs and the basement door shut.
She watched as the two young men stepped out of the shadows. ‘Hello, Mrs Townsend,’ said Charlie. ‘I think you know my friend, Jack.’
Moments passed as they looked at her and she looked back at them. She broke the silence with a comment that, considering the situation, felt quite absurd, ‘You do know that you are trespassing?’
‘What are you doing?’ asked Jack.
‘Not that it’s any of your business, but my husband and I are testing these stocks that he made for the local village fete,’ she said, retaining all possible dignity.
‘Oh?’ said Jack, looking around, ‘Where is your old man?’
‘He will be here any minute,’ said Veronica.
‘I don’t think so. I just saw him and he said he was driving into town. That’s at least a one-hour round-trip.’
Veronica was poker-faced. ‘You are mistaken,’ she said.
‘Why did he tie you up and leave, Mrs Townsend? Are you into some weird shit?’ asked Charlie.
Veronica maintained her poise, ‘Don’t be impertinent, Charlie.’
‘Don’t talk to me like that! I’m nineteen!’ shouted Charlie as he stomped towards her. Veronica didn’t waver. This left Charlie looking particularly inept.
Jack noticed the iPad on the shelf. ‘Why is this here like this?’ he asked, then he pieced it together. ‘He was FaceTiming to you, wasn’t he? The call must have dropped out! Ha! What an idiot!’ Veronica tried to ignore the insult.
Meanwhile, Charlie had discovered the winch on the rear of the back support and gave it a turn. As he did so, Veronica’s arms began to raise. He continued. ‘Ha. That’s fun!’ said Jack. Veronica was irritated that, no matter how much strength she used, she couldn’t stop her arms rising up and soon they were at full stretch, causing her shirt to ride up and show the midriff around her pregnant belly.
‘You can’t do this,’ said Veronica, firmly, ‘I am pregnant.’
‘We’re not doing anything your husband wouldn’t do,’ said Charlie as he returned to her side, a little enthralled by her pregnant belly.
‘Uergh! Look!’ said Jack, pointing, ‘she’s got sweaty armpits!’
‘Get out of here, you utter juveniles,’ said Veronica, looking Charlie directly in the eye with that unique expression of hers – the one that you didn’t want to argue with. He gulped and began to shuffle towards the winch when he noticed something unexpected…
It was unexpected to Veronica too and it seemed to begin in slow motion. She felt a smirk creep across her lips. For a moment she didn’t know why. She was more than well-practiced at knocking men down to size with stony looks and this was certainly not an amusing situation. So why the hell do I feel the need to smile? she thought. Then she felt it: Something is touching my armpit… She turned to see Jack gently prodding her with his finger and a look of exaggerated disgust on his face. She was building the energy to tell him in no uncertain terms to back off but something else emerged instead.
‘Pa-hah!’ Veronica spat out in a way that caused both young men to jump back. She composed herself. ‘Don’t touch me!’
Charlie and Jack looked at one another and smiled, then looked back at her. ‘You’re ticklish!’ said Charlie.
‘No, I’m not,’ said Veronica. If she was honest, she didn’t know if she was. She had no recollection of anyone ever testing the theory. She’d seen other people doing it but it never that occurred to her to do to anyone else and she had a vibe that never welcomed anyone to try and do it to her. It just wasn’t something that was on her radar.
‘I think you are, Mrs Townsend. Wanna bet?’ said Jack.
‘No. I don’t want to bet. I want you to leave my house before you do something that will get you into any more trouble,’ she said in her calm, stern tone. Usually this worked, but these lads weren’t listening. They were currently looking her up and down.
‘I’ll bet!’ said Charlie, ‘I’ll bet I find where she’s most ticklish!’
‘Yeah!’ said Jack, ‘Let’s take it in turns! Who goes first? Let’s flip for it…’ he took out a coin and flipped it into the air.
Veronica interjected: ‘Nobody “goes first” or second or at all. I’m not here for your amusement—’
‘No,’ said Jack, ‘Your husband left you here for ours!’
The boys laughed but they were interrupted by a digital ring. All three looked to the iPad. The display read: Gerald calling…
– – – – –
Gerald had reached the shopping centre and rushed to the shop. In order to save time he hadn’t asked the shop assistant for any advice, he simply bought several toys that he vaguely recognised, utilising the theory that the highest price would yield the best quality. With two shopping bags full, he ran back to the car.
Logically, he was aware that if he called Veronica, she wasn’t able to swipe the iPad to answer it. But then it occurred to him that she may be able to use the voice recognition function to do so.
He dialled the iPad. It rang for so long that either the voice recognition wasn’t switched on or Veronica didn’t know that answering with voice recognition wasn’t an option. It rang off. He tried again. She knew he was aware of her circumstances and that he wasn’t stupid. Therefore, she would hopefully work out that there was a way to answer. Again, it rang for ages. He was just about to give up hope when the screen read: Connecting…
Gerald smiled, relieved. But when the screen became active he found himself looking at the nerdy face of the boy next door.
‘Hello?’ said Gerald.
‘Hello, Mr Townsend,’ said Charlie.
‘What’s going on?’
‘That’s just what we were wondering,’ said Charlie, who was then joined by Jack. Their faces filled up the whole screen.
‘Hiya!’ said Jack.
‘Are you in my house?’ said Gerald.
‘Yeah,’ said Charlie, ‘We saw Mrs Townsend and she looked like she was in a spot of trouble, so we came in to help…’
Gerald clenched his teeth. Veronica was going to be livid. ‘Where is she now?’ he asked.
‘Oh, she’s still here…’ the young men parted ways to reveal Veronica, still in the stocks but now with her arms stretched high. She looked less than impressed.
‘Okay, well, if you can just let her go, that will be great,’ said Gerald, accepting the humiliation that they’d been caught in the act, ‘I will be home as soon as I can.’
‘Oh, we’re not going to let her go,’ said Charlie.
‘What?’ said Gerald.
‘We’ve just discovered something verrry interesting about Mrs Townsend,’ said Charlie.
Gerald grew concerned, ‘What are you talking about?’
Jack answered, ‘Did you know your wife is ticklish?’
Gerald was stumped. Was that a euphemism? ‘What are you talking about?’ he repeated.
‘It’s an easy question,’ said Charlie, ‘Did you know your wife is ticklish?’
‘Call the police, Gerald!’ Veronica said, firmly. She had clearly reached the end of her tether.
‘Wait,’ said Gerald, ‘Are you alright, Vee? Have they hurt you?’
‘No! We haven’t hurt her!’ said Charlie, insulted, ‘We’re not animals. We’re just having a bit of fun. It’s what these stocks were made for, weren’t they? Now: did you know your wife is ticklish!?’
Gerald bridled. The fact was that he didn’t know. He had never felt the impulse to tickle her but he wasn’t going to have some young upstart try to tell him something about his own wife that he didn’t know. ‘Of course I knew!’
‘Ohhhhhh!’ said Charlie and Jack together.
‘She was just trying to convince us that she wasn’t ticklish!’ said Charlie.
Gerald instantly regretted what he had said. Veronica did not look pleased. She was irritated that he had missed her non-verbal facial indications to consider his answer.
‘In that case, we’re going to go ahead and play a game — to guess where she’s most ticklish. Welcome to the show!’ said Jack.
They stepped back from the iPad and over to Veronica. Jack flipped a coin. ‘Heads!’ called Charlie.
Jack caught the coin, ‘Shit. It is heads. You go first…’ Charlie looked Veronica up and down.
‘Gerald! I said call the police!’
Gerald’s instinct was to follow what she said, but something inside him compelled him to keep watching even though he was repulsed by the idea of anyone touching his wife.
‘I’m going to go here…’ said Charlie standing at Veronica’s feet.
Jack rolled his eyes, ’Seems a bit obvious, but whatever.’
Veronica and Gerald could only watch as Charlie knelt to remove Veronica’s fluffy slippers. Veronica didn’t have a beauty regime that included particular attention to her feet but, as it turned out, that wasn’t necessary – they were naturally very attractive and well-kept.
‘Wow,’ said Jack, ‘Your feet are huge!’ Veronica looked at him, failing to hide how irked she was, but this just made him laugh.
Charlie, however, was a closet foot-fetishist so he had a different perspective on the matter that he was keeping to himself. As he slowly and deliberately removed her slippers, he thought her feet were sublime. He couldn’t count the number of times he had watched her sunbathing in the garden and thanked the Lord each time her soles were pointed in the direction of his bedroom window. He even had a couple of photos he had sneakily taken but were at such a distance that the details were too pixelated to be any real use. Still, they had seen him through some lonely nights. But he didn’t need those any more – this mental picture would stay with him forever.
Her feet were indeed large but that’s how he liked them. The underside of the slippers told him something that he always wanted to know – they were size 8. At least, the slippers were size 8 but her feet were a little snug in them, possibly due to her pregnancy. They may even be 8.5! To him, size was an indication of womanhood.
Their colour inspired him to think, peaches and cream. Her heels were nice and smooth and, as he gazed up the soles, each foot became wider at the ball, allowing for toes that were nicely spread and in good shape. What surprised him the most about her feet were her toes – they were “cute”. This was one of the last words he thought that would suit this sexy, imposing woman but a fact is a fact: Mrs Townsend had cute toes.
He longed to lick and worship her feet, but now wasn’t the time. He was satisfied with the fact that he was kneeling at them and removing her slippers – the ones she was wearing when she humiliated him last night in front of a crowd of people that he wanted to impress. He suddenly recalled how much he resented her for that.
Veronica could do nothing but watch as Charlie removed her slippers. I’m not even going to twitch a toe, she thought. Struggling won’t work – Gerald built these stocks too damn well. If they want me to apologise, they can go jump. I will not apologise for asking a dweeby kid to turn down his music when it’s past 10pm. I will not apologise for getting this other cocky oik disciplined at work. They’ve already ignored me twice when I’ve told them to let me go. Any more and they’ll just get a grand sense of power by telling me no. I would actually just like my husband to stop gawping and call the police as I told him to! Why is he waiting?
Gerald was almost frozen to the spot. He didn’t want to watch but couldn’t tear his eyes away. They were going to tickle his wife? That was a horrible thought. Yes, tickling was innocuous and childish but one of the reasons he so worshipped Veronica was that she could hold her own and wasn’t able to be undermined under any circumstances. He had even witnessed her knock a grown man to the ground with a single punch whilst they were Christmas shopping the previous year and some stranger had touched her bum.
As her devoted husband, he valued over-and-above anything that she only allowed herself to be dominated by one person, in one scenario – by him, in their bedroom. These young men were treating something he held so dear with complete flippancy. All he could hope for was that she actually wasn’t ticklish, or that she would at least be able to pretend she wasn’t.
Charlie stood and looked at Veronica. ‘Ready?’ he teased.
Veronica steeled herself. She had no inkling what sensations she was about to experience. Being forced to laugh? That was stupid. If she didn’t want it to happen, it wouldn’t happen. When she had seen people tickled in the past, they seemed to get more frantic the more they fought. It stood to reason that people are most ticklish when they tense up. She therefore decided to go the other way and relax.
Charlie’s fingers closed in on her foot. As they made contact her toes twitched, beyond her control. She held her breath, then made herself let it go. He skated his fingers with feather-light touches all around her right sole as though it was a mini rink. The sensations felt strange but pleasurable. Occasionally, he stroked across a particular area or strengthened his touch and Veronica felt something disconcerting stir deep inside her, but she managed to maintain relaxation, even when Charlie looked a bit frustrated and began to do the same to both soles at once.
Charlie was frustrated. She was looking at him as though he wasn’t even touching her. Aren’t people suppose to explode into laughter when their feet are tickled? he thought.
‘Bor-ing!’ announced Jack. And Charlie gave up.
Gerald was relieved and allowed himself to blink for the first time in five minutes.
‘My turn!’ said Jack and approached Veronica’s legs. She looked at him with her characteristically stoic expression. Jack tried not to be unnerved. ‘How about……here!?’ he said and, in an attempt to catch her by surprise, he dug his fingers in just above her knees. She gave a brief start. ‘Oh, she’s wriggling!’ he said, and looked up at her. She was frowning.
‘Yes, you might too if someone did that to you. Are you waiting for me to laugh? Would you like to put an ice pick through each thigh muscle for good measure…?’ she said. ‘Get off!’
Gerald smiled. That’s my Veronica, he thought proudly.
Jack stepped back, his failure witnessed by all. Charlie stepped forward. This was becoming less of a game and more of a mission. ‘You forget that we already know somewhere where you’re ticklish,’ he said and indicated her armpits.
Veronica took a deep, slow breath in and released it, her expression unchanged. This time she was a little concerned as her reaction had taken her by surprise before. Charlie wiggled his fingers towards her with a childish teasing action but the obvious psychological warfare tactic just irritated her.
His fingers made contact with the material of her shirt. He pressed gently until he could feel the smooth skin of her armpits. It was an unusual sensation, for sure. But again, it verged on the pleasurable. Charlie frowned and pressed a little more. She felt the sensation increase in intensity, but she increased her resistance to match it. Charlie was aware that she was just looking him, unimpressed and waiting for him to give up. He did so, and stepped back, looking at the floor. This was humiliating.
Gerald was relaxed. His confidence in his wife had returned. He was turned on and couldn’t wait to get home to make love to the strongest woman he knew. ‘Okay, boys,’ he said, with a very deliberate use of the word boys, ‘you’ve done your best and it wasn’t good enough. It’s time to leave my wife alone, if you don’t mind—’
‘I have one more turn!’ said Jack, who zipped behind Veronica and knelt down. The padded back support was only about six inches wide. Mrs Townsend’s ribs were the only place left that he could think of. He dug in with the same determination as he had on her knees, expecting her to wail with laughter.
‘Ouch!’ said Veronica. Jack stopped. ‘Are you stupid? Did you not register that I said I’m pregnant? And you’re digging in to my body? That’s enough! Let. Me. Go!’ she shouted at Charlie. Charlie nodded to Jack, who began turning the winch.
‘Are you okay, honey?’ asked Gerald.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Just come home.’
As the winch turned and her arms lowered, Charlie watched Mrs Townsend’s summer shirt begin to re-cover her belly and marvelled at how flat her navel looked. It was no longer the innie that he had observed during her summer sunbathes, nor was it the outie that it may eventually become as she got further into her pregnancy. It was flush to the surface of her tummy.
‘Wait…’ he said to Jack.
Jack stopped turning the winch, ‘What? Why? We have to let her go,’ he said.
Charlie didn’t answer, instead he just looked around the basement. He stepped over to a cupboard that contained all sorts of household items. After a moment’s deliberation he picked up something and returned with it hidden behind his back.
‘What are you doing?’ said Veronica, getting ready to completely lose her temper.
In response, Charlie held up a cotton bud, then lowered it.
Veronica looked him dead in the eye and was about to unleash Hell when, for the second time that day, she was caught unawares…
Gerald was about to turn the key in the ignition when he realised something was happening and he had to watch the screen again. He looked closer and saw that Charlie was slowly teasing a circle around the edge of Veronica’s belly button with a Q-tip. She seemed to be in suspended animation…
Charlie was now looking intently into Mrs Townsend’s eyes. She was meeting his gaze but holding her breath, which indicated to him that this was having an effect. He played with the speed and direction of the cotton bud, which caused a slight wobble to her posture. Her face showed some subtle signs of inner turmoil. Charlie was intrigued and, as he gently increased the pressure and twirled the bud around the very centre of her navel, her eyebrows began to raise in the middle…
Veronica felt sweat appearing on her upper lip. She wasn’t going to be able to keep from breathing much longer. As Charlie twisted, twirled and circled her tummy button she could do nothing to prevent how it felt. She was pregnant. It wasn’t like she could tense her abs or anything. She could see in Charlie’s eyes an expanding sense of achievement and she broke her stare to slowly look sideways to her husband who was watching her on tenterhooks. There was a pleading, almost apologetic look in her eyes…
‘Do me a favour, Jack,’ said Charlie, ‘try her ribs again. But this time, be gentle.’
Jack smiled and did so, this time probing softly at her lower ribcage.
A novel tingle washed through Veronica’s entire being. She closed her eyes as the feeling built. A few pulses of contained laughter caused her body to convulse.
Charlie was fascinated at how, despite what was beginning to happen to her, Mrs Townsend was managing to keep a straight face. ‘Keep it going, Jack,’ said Charlie, putting the cotton bud to one side and teasing her belly button with the very tip of his finger, ‘Make it unpredictable.’
Jack mixed his touch between gentle and firm as he played up, down and around Mrs Townsend’s ribs, causing her to begin twisting in the seat. The convulsions increased in frequency until she had to open her eyes. Gerald was now wide-eyed and pale as he watched. The look in her eyes told him what was about to happen next. ‘No……’ he said, reflexly.
Confused by what was happening to her body and her mind, Veronica couldn’t hold her breath any longer and the feelings on her ribcage were becoming more intense. Every time she tried to resist it, she was caught out by the touch on her navel and vice versa. She couldn’t fight this battle on two fronts! This realisation and the need to breathe allowed laughter to rapidly bubble up from within and Gerald witnessed the exact moment his wife cracked.
To Charlie is was an incomparable sight. Mrs Townsend’s face transformed from her usual indomitable exterior and she crumbled into an aria of giggles.
‘Hey-heyyy!’ called Jack, victoriously.
Gerald rapidly switched on the ignition, threw his car into gear and burned out of the car park.
‘What’s the matter, Mrs Townsend?’ asked Charlie with a triumphant grin.
Veronica looked at him but couldn’t answer, ensnared as she was in a stream of overwhelming giggles. Charlie couldn’t help but be captivated – the laughter caused her to shine like a summer sky. She looked so beautiful.
‘It doesn’t sound like she wants to confess!’ said Jack.
‘Oh, I’m sure she does…’ he said and his heart leapt as it occurred to him that her feet might now be a viable target, ‘You keep going there,’ he said to Jack and he let his fingers walk down her leg and over the stocks.
Veronica just watched him go, laughing the whole time. She was confused as to why, when she was able to resist just one person tickling her before, she couldn’t now. It was as though her defences had truly been disintegrated and Jack was becoming more adept at tickling her ribs by the second.
Charlie again knelt at Mrs Townsend’s feet and, with Jack hidden at the other end and Mr Townsend focussed on his driving, he felt able to fully revel in the task without spectators. Her feet jostled and twisted in front of him as she fought against the torment on her ribcage. He allowed his face to get close and take an exploratory lick in the centre of her right sole. Her foot jolted and attempted to retract but was held in place by the stocks. It was then that he noticed the cleat hooks on top of the stocks and knew what to do with them. After a quick hunt, he found a ball of thick twine and made loops around each of Mrs Townsend’s toes, taking care to use knots that wouldn’t cut off the circulation. He then pressed her feet back into a flex and secured the twine the cleats. And, voila! Her feet were immobilised!
‘Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell us, Mrs Townsend?’ said Charlie.
She wished she could. As she had been watching him take the time to tie her toes she had wanted nothing more than to tell him to stop, but she couldn’t!
‘She’s never going to crack!’ said Jack, enjoying himself, ‘Just do what you’ve got to do!’
Charlie didn’t need telling twice. He sank down enthusiastically at Mrs Townsend’s soles and began licking and nibbling them all over.
Veronica shrieked in surprise as these new sensations trembled through her. She was quickly realising exactly how ticklish her feet were. She shook her head because she was unable to cry the word No! but it made no difference — nobody was watching her. Jack was busy behind her, plucking away at her ribcage like a masterful harpist, and Charlie was actually licking her feet and… chewing on her toes! This threw her into full-blown hysterics.
‘I don’t know what you’re doing, but it’s working!’ called Jack.
Charlie was in heaven — the large soft soles of Mrs Townsend’s feet on his tongue and her wonderful smooth toes in his mouth felt so good and the fact that it was having this effect on her was the biggest turn-on he’d ever experienced.
Gerald sped down the motorway. There was not enough energy in his pale face to form any kind of expression. He was subjected to the sounds of his wife being forced into peals of laughter by two younger men and it seemed as though he’d been forgotten by everyone in that room. In the distance he could see the tunnel that had previously interrupted their video call. He had no idea how long it would take to get home, especially if he hit traffic. As Veronica began to produce sounds that sounded especially desperate and regressive, he mustered the energy to shout, hoping it would frighten the boys into stopping. ‘I’m coming home, Veronica! I’ll be there soon!’
There was a brief pause as Jack and Charlie looked to the iPad, giving Veronica a chance to take a breath. ‘Oh. You still there?’ said Jack.
Gerald picked up his phone in fury and was taken aback by Veronica’s face. She actually had tears in her eyes! His Goddess was being forced to cry with laughter!
‘I’m coming, Vee!’ he called.
‘Yeah, whatever,’ said Jack and wrapped his hands around her body, adroitly probing at two very sensitive spots on her ribcage, just under her breasts.
Veronica’s eyes widened and she tried to say something to Gerald, but the ability to form words was taken from her: ‘Lobloblobloblobloblobllll!’ she cried, thrashing her head from side to side and collapsing into helpless giggles.
Gerald looked on, utterly bemused. He was about to demand that they leave her alone when he entered the tunnel. The connection was lost.
Charlie saw the connection go down and turned back to Mrs Townsend’s delicious, prone soles.
‘What the—?’ said Jack.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Charlie, not wanting to stop.
‘My hands are wet,’ Jack replied.
Spotting that Jack was now standing up and his private foot-play session was no longer private, Charlie stopped. ‘What do you—?’ he was cut off mid-sentence by a sight he had not expected. The front of Mrs Townsend’s shirt was soaked through. ‘What happened?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Jack.
Veronica, meanwhile, was catching her breath and coming to terms with the fact that she was incredibly ticklish. A fact that she had not known until this point in her life and which led to a feeling of confusion — she hated losing control but there was something very sexy about having control taken from her in such a physical, and seemingly innocent, manner. As such, and having just laughed more than she can ever remember doing in her life, her emotions were tempered. ‘Are you going to let me go now?’ she asked.
‘Are you okay?’ asked Charlie, standing at her side.
‘Yes, I’m fine.’
‘Where did that come from?’
Veronica looked down at her wet shirt. ‘I’m pregnant, Charlie. You work it out.’
Charlie was still puzzled, but Jack had worked it out. He reached forward and undid the top button of her shirt.
‘What are you doing, Jack?’ said Charlie.
Jack said nothing and undid the second button. Mrs Townsend’s alluring cleavage was revealed.
‘Jack!’ said Charlie, grabbing his wrist. ‘Don’t!’
Jack looked at him and back at Mrs Townsend. He was cocky, but uncertain. ‘I just want to check you’re okay,’ he said.
She cocked her head. His reason was as transparent as 20-year-old male reasons could get but she said nothing.
He pulled his wrist free from Charlie’s grasp and pulled open her remaining buttons. Charlie and Jack were lost for words — Mrs Townsend’s bra was soaked through. Milky droplets trickled over her round stomach. Jack spoke without tearing his eyes away, ‘She had a very sensitive belly button. I wonder what the rest of her tummy is like…’
Charlie’s passion was again enflamed. Jack’s fingers were already edging towards her.
As Veronica sensed how ticklish this was about to feel, she felt an unfamiliar thrill of anticipation shiver through her. ‘Oh, no…’ she said.
Charlie mirrored Jack and their agile fingertips found opposite sides of Mrs Townsend’s pregnant belly. Her reaction was again magical as she sank back into a current of sweet titterings. Having lived next to her for so long and never seen her do anything more than give a pleasant smile, Charlie was enchanted with how human she felt to him now. She wasn’t just some iconic woman next door who he could ogle on her sunbed in the summertime, she was a complete woman who told him off, but could also laugh like an angel.
Both Charlie and Jack had quickly discovered a passion for tickling and realised how to do it well, rather than the clumsy flirtations they had used on the girls at college. Their fingertips danced tenderly and perceptively over Mrs Townsend’s skin, giving full respect to the fact that she was pregnant. They both independently discovered the corresponding place on either of her to be the most sensitive — where the dome of her pregnant tummy met the natural curve of her waist. They found it at the same time and shared a look of glee as she squealed and arched her back in the seat.
‘Ooh! I think we’ve sound the spot, right, Charlie?’ said Jack.
‘I think so!’ Charlie answered.
Again, Veronica could do nothing but giggle and look from one boy to the other.
‘How about we keep one hand there and check out her armpits?’ said Jack.
‘Good idea!’ said Charlie.
‘No! Hee hee hee! Not there! Hee hee hee! Ple-hee-hease!’ Veronica spoke through her giggles. She was struggling to cope but, at the same time, she was curious to know how it would affect her.
While Charlie and Jack kept one hand in motion at her waist, they both let their other hands crawl in tandem up her ribs and inside the material of her shirt.
The build of anticipation caused a rapid increase in sensitivity that made her lift off the seat with squeals of desperation as they reached the smooth, slick surfaces of her armpits. She leant forward in a vain attempt to escape their touch.
‘This is a good one!’ said Charlie.
Jack nodded agreement and began to walk his hand behind her, lightly tracing over her back until he found the clip of her bra and, with a dexterity that he didn’t know he possessed, unclipped it.
Veronica was unable to say anything — the incessant tickling at her tummy and armpit causing her to giggle without pause. She felt the bra loosen and threw herself back in an attempt to trap Jack’s hand, but he moved it just it time. She looked at him and wanted to tell him she knew what he’d done but before she could gather her voice, he went back to her armpit and she was lost again to writhing hysterics.
With a sense of concern and excitement, Charlie noticed Mrs Townsend’s bra begin to shake loose. He looked to Jack who was obviously very turned on by the fact. ‘I think your bra has come undone,’ he said and slowed his tickling.
‘I know!’ she managed to say, ‘J-Jack just unc-clipped it!’
Charlie stopped altogether, followed by Jack. Veronica rested her head back, licked her dry lips and tried to slow her breathing. They stood in silence.
Finally, Jack spoke. ‘I want to see what happens if we tickle your tits.’
Charlie looked at Mrs Townsend with gobsmacked embarrassment. She couldn’t help but laugh, ‘Have you ever been complimented on your eloquence?’ she asked Jack.
Jack shook his head. Veronica considered for some moments, ‘You’d better do it quickly, then. You’ll never get this chance again.’
Charlie’s mouth dropped open. Jack almost climaxed on the spot. He then ran over to a work bench, opened a draw and found exactly what he was looking for. He returned with a pair of scissors.
‘What are you doing with those!?’ Veronica asked.
‘I need to cut your bra and shirt off.’
‘Do you know how much these cost?’
‘I’ll buy you new ones!’ Jack said and made quick work of cutting away her shirt and the straps of her bra.
Charlie was frozen to the spot as Jack peeled away the bra, setting Mrs Townsend’s full, firm breasts free. Veronica basked in the moment. She had always enjoyed the power she felt when she permitted men to see her breasts for the first time. Jack gulped as he witnessed perfection and set down the scissors. For a while they just stared.
Veronica was the first to speak, ‘Well…?’
Charlie and Jack looked at each other then took a step forward. With shaking hands they delicately began to stroke the smooth skin of her breasts, soon touching them in ways that their primal selves desired. Occasionally their hands criss-crossed as they followed urges to play with both at the same time. Veronica closed her eyes and rested her head back, enjoying the sensations.
Charlie suddenly felt a pang of guilt for effectively participating in adultery. He altered his touch began to trace his fingertips over her breast and teased her armpit at the same time. She twitched and her mouth curled up at one corner. Charlie increased his tickling motions over her breast and a chuckle burst from her lips. Jack smiled and felt the need to join in, doing the same to her other breast. Mrs Townsend broke into a particularly feminine laugh. As they increased the speed of their touch, a tone of surprise entered her laughter, as though she had no idea this would be so effective.
Jack began to focus his touch around Mrs Townsend’s areola, gently increasing the pressure. Charlie noticed further desperation in her laugh and so did the same. Again she became lost to laughter but she seemed to be enjoying her torture. She looked back and forth between Charlie and Jack through watering eyes and they maintained eye contact until they felt their fingers become wet. Her breasts were dripping with milk, which ran over her tummy and began to soak the waistline of her shorts.
Tentatively at first, Jack brought his face close to her nipple and replaced his fingers with his mouth. Charlie said nothing but looked at her beautiful face. At this point he had forgotten what he was doing so she was no longer laughing. There was a welcoming look in her eyes.
He was about to lean forward when he noticed Mrs Townsend look over his shoulder. ‘Hello Honey,’ she said.
Charlie turned to see Mr Townsend standing at the foot of the basement stairs, glaring at them all. He was hold two shopping bags in one hand and a set of car keys in the other. He dropped both at the same time.
Jack stood bolt upright. Charlie and Jack both wondered if they could break through the narrow basement window and escape before Mr Townsend could pick up a hammer.
‘It’s time for you two to leave,’ said Veronica.
With the expressions of two cats who have found themselves in a kennel, Charlie and Jack both cautiously edged past Mr Townsend and hurried up the stairs.
Gerald stood in place as they passed, their youthful erections clearly straining at their jeans. He watched them go and heard them exit through the front door.
He turned to look at his wife, her hair ruffled, her make-up smeared, her breasts exposed and glistening with a mixture of sweat and milk. He didn’t know what to say.
She indicated the bag he had dropped on the floor, ‘Did you happen to get a vibrator?’
He nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Good. I think you should use it now.’
‘Okay,’ he said, a little spaced-out. He leant and picked up the bag.
‘And, Gerald, my love?’
‘Yes?’
‘Tilly will need to find an alternative. We are keeping these stocks.’
The End.
Last edited:
