The Adult Story Hub

The following is intended for adult readers who want to read fiction about a woman being in charge of a man through his genitals. Anybody who is not legally permitted to view such material should read no further. All rights to this story are reserved by the author. Permission is given to archive this story in places where no fees are charged for legal adults to view it and if no words are changed, including this disclaimer. Hope you enjoy.

Did I ever describe Amanda? When I married her I thought she was a goddess. She had yellow blond hair and a clear Scandinavian complexion with a natural rosy glow in her cheeks. I used to think it was almost a crime for her to use makeup but a little darkening of her eyelashes and a little reddening from lipstick on her lips and she could have the world at her doorstep. At 5’ 7", she was neither tall nor short. She was a well toned package, strong but not overly developed or rippling in any areas.And, those breasts, wow, she was a natural 36D, a 25-27" waist, and 35" hips.
Because her mother, Monika, could almost pass as her older sister, I could see twenty-five years into the future to preview what Amanda would look like as she got older, and I sure liked what I saw. Monika was a remarkable lady for having delivered and raised three girls and a boy. Amanda was the youngest and the four kids were about eighteen months apart on average, except Amanda, who came three years after her brother Jon, the next youngest. Monika must have told her husband Carl "No more." after having four so close together.
Monika was a talented artist by trade.By all appearances, people saw her as a sweet lady, a little ditsy, maybe a la Maude of "Harold and Maude", only thirty years younger. Pictures of her as a girl and younger woman, showed how much she looked like Amanda, well at least as beautiful as Amanda. She was naturally flirtatious, I think, as a way of dealing with all of the attention her physical beauty brought upon her. But, what ever one might say about her, she did stay married to Amanda’s father for thirty-three years until his death when Monika was fifty-one. Now that I am divorced from Amanda, I am able to put pieces together to better understand Amanda and her unusual family, and how much she and her mother were alike.
As far as Monika is concerned, I can now weave a thread through some isolated instances that go a long way to explain my unusual relationship with Amanda. Like the time I came over to Amanda’s house to go jogging with her on a warm summer morning. Monika was outside watering a garden spot on the side of their house. I stopped to make polite conversation with her, as I was courting her daughter. Her neighbor made a friendly pass at her as he was getting into his car to leave. As Monika turned to respond to him she directed the column of water from the hose directly onto my crotch. When she saw what she had done, she laughed before apologizing and didn’t instantly turn the water away. The water was cold and hit my crotch with some force which had me bending at the waist. When Monika put the hose down and turned off the water she came up to me and used the small towel draped over her shoulder, she used to mop her brow, to pat me down in front. This was a not to gentle process and I pleaded with her to not be so helpful.
Monika insisted that I come in and give her my shirt, shorts and socks so she could run them quickly through the dryer, since Amanda wasn’t down yet anyway. She gave me a towel to wear and coaxed me to sit in the kitchen to keep her company while she put dishes and things away. I sipped on an orange juice as I watched her move around her domain. She unbuttoned her sleeveless summer shirt complaining that the kitchen was heating up in the morning sun. She had on a bikini top which amounted to two triangular patches that exposed the sides of her full breasts. She acted like she didn’t notice my glances at the glimpses she was giving me of her breasts or her leg, which would become exposed when her wrap-around skirt, made of a scarf-like material, would part as she squatted or bent. Eventually, she took off the shirt all together and asked me how I was recovering, as she stared at the swelling under the towel with pride. Then Amanda came through the door with my clothes in her hand tossing them to me saying, "Come on, let’s go before the sun makes it too hot to run." I think she and her mom exchanged looks as I walked passed her a little bent to hide my reaction to her mom’s teasing.
Then there was the time, while Amanda and I were engaged, where we went out with Carl and Monika to a popular movie that we had to stand in line for. Carl was in front to pay for all of us and I was between the ladies with Amanda behind me. Monika was standing with her right hand resting comfortably in the palm of her left hand in back of her. Amanda was growing frustrated with people walking through the line between her and I so when a group of guys wanted through, she stepped forward putting her hands on my shoulder and sort of hugged my back. This felt good until she lurched forward at the hip as if one of the guys had pinched her butt. This pushed my groin into Monika’s hand and instead of just bouncing back from it she gave my groin a momentary squeeze. As I lurched back into Amanda, she turned me around and gave me a passionate kiss on the lips and I just let the whole incident pass.
One Thanksgiving, after we were married, Amanda’s oldest sister, Kara, hosted the meal. I was sitting across from Amanda, and Carl, opposite me, was across from Monika to my left. Carl started to grow a little uneasy it seemed to me, and then I felt Amanda’s stockinged foot flicking my balls and cock around in my loose fitting slacks with a challenging grin on her face. I was torn between getting her to stop and having her continue. At one point, the pleasure became painful and I lurched my chair back a bit. So not to draw attention to myself, I reached under the table as if to retrieve my napkin. As I came back up, my hand glanced Monika’s leg which was extended in the direction of Carl. I must have turned every shade of red as Monika smiled at me and patted my upper thigh. Amanda tilted her foot in the direction of her mother’s hand and touched it with a toe. Monika looked at her daughter smiled and winked.
After we were married, Amanda accepted for me to sit for her mother's figure drawing class. She assured me that it was professional, that people did it all the time, in fact her father did it when he was younger, and that was how her parents met. What Amanda wanted, Amanda usually got. Amanda and I kept our bodies in good shape, and that is what the class would appreciate. Without Amanda's insistence, however, I would never have given this a moment's consideration.
So, 10:00 Saturday morning I appeared at Monika's studio. What do you wear to a "disrobing" anyway? I chose Speedo swim trunks, tank top shirt under a short sleeve shirt, shorts and sandals. When I arrived, Monika was demonstrating to a class of all women, about twelve strong, six with easels and six with lap-boards or sketch pads, ranging from college age to early forties. When she saw me appear at the door, she said, "Oh class, this is my son-in-law. He has agreed to help us with figure drawing this morning, please make him feel welcomed."
With this the class turned around and looked me up and down like a horse at auction. Some smiled, some looked on unemotionally, and some looked to be a touch embarrassed. I don't know what they had to be embarrassed about, I was the one going down to my skivvies.
Monika extended her arms to me to direct me to a dressing screen off to the side of a raised platform. "We'll have you come out when you are ready and take your place here." she said pointing to piece of old fashion furniture, the size of a love seat with only one armrest at one end, and went back to talking to the class.
When I appeared, I had taken everything off except my Speedos and my tank top. "Oh Honey," she exclaimed, "we can't draw your muscle definition with this on." And with that said, she pulled the top off over my head. My embarrassment went up several notches, being unceremoniously disrobed by my mother-in-law in front of this room full of clothed women, with eyes glued to every part of my body and movement that I made. "Let's have you sit here like this for starters." She positioned me seated with my arms wrapped around my knees in a knee-chest fetal type position, my chin resting on my knees. What a relief this was, because my jock strap and Speedo Trunks left little to the imagination.
Monika was giving instruction to the class on how to do quick captures or something and the class started furiously sketching for a few minutes. I didn't pay much attention, because I knew I would be required to remain motionless. I let my mind drift off into random thoughts, when my reverie was shaken by Monika's hand on my arm as she started to unwind me into another position.
This time she had me stretch my legs out straight and point my toes, feet together leaning forward, hands on my shins at my ankles. In this, as with the other pose, I didn't have to look at any faces going over my features, as I stared off at a cleanup area to the side. Lost in my thoughts again, this wasn't so bad after I got used to the idea. Except for being introduced as related to Monika, it was a relatively impersonal task until...
Monika came over to rearrange me again having me lean on one arm, legs bent, the back leg knee up, the front leg knee pointing at the group and the arm in back resting on the knee at the forearm, hand hanging down.I was to look back over at the dressing curtain. In this pose, my groin was on full display. I steeled myself to the task as Monika slowly walked backwards examining the pose. Suddenly she stopped, and started coming back towards me saying, "Let's lose these, shall we?" With that, she reached her hands in the back of the Speedos and quickly pulled them off before I could mount any protest. She deftly put me back in place turning my head away from the group to the side as before. If the art students were painting true to color, they would have to get out the reds at this point, because all that protected my modesty from my mother-in-law and a room full of strangers was my jock strap.
How do you act professional at this point. Wait a second, I wasn't a professional, nor did I aspire to be one. My heart was beating heavily now and my breathing was much deeper. Heck my chest was giving the sketchers a "moving" target. Just when I got used to my circumstance enough to have normal breathing and a heart free from attack, Monika approached me again. She had been walking around looking at each of the student's efforts. Now she grabbed my jockstrap and pulled it off saying, "Why don't we give them a greater challenge, OK?"
"Monika, why don't you let me answer your questions before you proceed on your own." was all I had time to think at this point. Boy that lady could be quick and decisive.
So there I was on complete display in one of the most humiliating experiences of my life at the hands of my mother-in-law and my wife as accomplice. That morning didn't get much better from there. I was posed this way and that, but all in ways that displayed my manhood to the sketchers. At one point I actually thought about what they were doing, drawing my cock and balls with their hands. This was a mistake as the connection of my genitals to their hands caused me to get an erection that wouldn't quit. It was in a pose with me facing the group leaning back on the couch, my feet on the floor six inches apart and my knees tilting out to the sides. What created a little stir of whispering and shifting in chairs was that my head was tilted straight back looking at the ceiling cradled in my interlocked fingers. So my cock twitched itself hard without my even touching it as if, from their perspective, it had a mind of its own.
Monika chimed in, "Quickly girls! New pages. This might not last long."
Little did she know, that my awareness of the dilemma, the classes continued reaction to it, and the new intensity she was generating, made my cock twitch and twitch and twitch until a precum appeared. Then, moments later, my world imploded in an orgasm that shot up and hit me in the face on down my chest.
How I could cum like that without even being touched, I'll never know. The humiliation crescendoed when some of the ladies trying to hold back laughter, lost all semblance of professional cool and burst out laughing to the point of tears. "Ladies, Ladies!" Monika implored, "I think we have had enough excitement for the day. You may all be dismissed. See you next Saturday."
As the ladies packed up their things, they kept looking over at me hyperventilating, going into shock, as Monika came over with a soft towel to wipe me off from head to cock. One thirtyish woman came up to me as my breathing started to calm down and handed me a card with a phone number on it telling me that, if I was interested in doing any more posing, to please give her a call. Then she turned to leave. I was in too much shock to reach up for the card, so Monika accepted it for me with a wry smile.
Well, there was this other time, well into our marriage but still before her father died. It probably doesn’t count, however, because it was a fix I got my self in. I saw Amanda bending forward drying her hair in front of the standing mirror in our room. The robe she was wearing was open in front and pulled apart by her arms that were holding the dryer and tussling her hair. Her legs were apart for balance, or to let her pubic hair dry out. I was taken by the moment and I had just come in from working in the yard. I slipped off my shorts and snuck up behind her. In one smooth motion, I lifted up her robe and slid my erection forward along her pussy and reached around, grabbed her breasts and hugged her back. Off went the dryer, and still bent, she reached up between her legs and grabbed my balls with one hand and the underside of my erection with her other. I was in the process of kneading her breasts and sawing my cock against her clit, when I heard Amanda’s voice at the door, "Mother, do you need anything el….What are you two doing?" she said, looking at us in amused horror.
Instantly my hands went straight out to the sides but my balls and cock were now in a locked grip. I turned my head and looked at Amanda saying "Wha…wha…Oh…My…Goddddd!"
"Oh I’m all right Honey. I just got this rapist here by the balls." Monika said in jest.
"I can take over from here mom." Amanda said, as she took over her mother’s grasp of my balls and pulled me backwards till I was sitting on the edge of the bed stunned like a deer in sudden headlights. Monika straightened up and turned around before she bothered to wrap Amanda’s robe around herself, giving me a glimpse of the finest body on a forty-six year old you could imagine."How could you do this to my mother, you pig? What do you have to say for yourself. What do you have to say to her?" Squeeze!
As I broke from my grimace, I attempted to say, "But… but… I thoug… though….I thought it was you darling. Monika, please forgive me. You know I wouldn’t have done such a thing if I had known it was you. What are you doing here, …in Amanda’s robe…in our bedroom?"
"Oh we have had a major water main problem on our block for a couple of days and I came by to do some laundry and freshen up. Didn’t you see me come in? And what was that crack about not finding your mother-in-law sexy enough to want to do her?"
"No. No. I find you very sexy." Amanda squeezed. "No. No. I mean you are very attractive like Amanda. In fact I thought you were Amanda."
"So you think of me as someone in her forties?" Amanda challenged. I wasn’t going to win this one so I decided to keep my mouth shut and take what was coming to me. "I’ll deal with you later, Mister. Now why don’t you bring in the things from the back of the car while I help my mother deal with the ordeal you put her through." She let go, I bent to pick up my shorts, and she held out her hand, "Why don’t I hang on to those for a while?" I knew what she meant and left the room only to hear the two of them burst out in laughter despite their efforts to stifle it.
Carl died a couple of years before the end of our marriage. Amanda was twenty-six and took it pretty hard. Carl was a proud, happy man, who worshipped Monika. She was beautiful, bright, and adventuresome, what was not to like. He was twelve years her senior like I was ten years Amanda’s senior. He and I must have been a lot alike, as I grew to piece together later. He had a business bankruptcy a year before he died and left Monika hurting more than emotionally with his passing.
Monika persevered, however, but grew to rely on me more and more to help her with things. Amanda grew to treat me more as property than the man she loved and encouraged me to be at my mother-in-laws beck and call. It was in these last couple of years that I learned the pattern to work the threads of understanding through.
At Monika’s house, she always needed things moved, fixed, hung, re-hung, and so forth. Like Amanda, she would ask me to wear, or not wear, certain clothes when I helped her out. She would explain that if it was good enough for my house then it should be good enough at hers, besides, she would explain that it wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before.
Monika would fish for compliments and would dress provocatively to get reactions from me for her own reassurance. One night, she asked me to sit next to her on the couch, and proceeded to talk about how she missed Carl. As she broke into tears, I put my arm around her shoulders and guided her head to mine. She put her hand on my genitals and said, "Would it be okay with you if I held these for a little bit? Carl used to always let me hold on to and play with his."
It took some courage, but I stopped my hand that was going to the rescue of my male anatomy and decided to let it ride. If I were to close my eyes, it would have been easy to imagine it was Amanda in our earlier years fondly caressing my equipment. It was really too weird to keep my eyes open for this so I closed them with the thought that I was doing a magnanimous thing for my mother-in-law. I could get lost in the exquisite sensations when all I heard was sniffling and sobs but every time she would talk about Carl, I would be snapped back into the role of a martyr. If I was going to get past that and enjoy this, I was going to have to figure out a way to keep her from obsessing while she stimulated my erection and balls.
"So Monika, what would Carl do for you while you did this wonderful thing for him?" I asked with some trepidation.
"Oh, he would try to discover ways to make me squeal."
"What were your some of your favorite things that he would do that would make you squeal?"
"Oh, when the kids were grown, we would play games."
"Like what sort of games?"
"Oh we might start out with me as a farmer’s daughter and Carl as a farmhand who would capture me at night and tie me up in the barn with my hands over my head and he would tickle me with feathers and things everywhere until I was near exhaustion."
"Then what would you do?"
"Then I would be a Nazi nurse in a prison camp where we would test the limits of unwilling prisoners to the sexual powers of women."
I gulped audibly. "How did you do this?"
"See that eyelet screwed into the beam over there with the plant?"
It sure was overkill for that hanging plant, come to think of it. We’d tied each other up there to that cleat on the wall behind the curtain."
I got up, my curiosity overcoming me, and walked over to the window. Monika watched me discover their secret with bobbing cock. She sat with her elbow on top of the couch, head on fist and one leg bent on the place where I was sitting. "How did you get the rope up there?" A lame question, but a telegraph of where I was going with this.
"That ladder at the foot of the stairs in the basement would always do the trick."
"And the rope?"
"Should be close to it I imagine."
"Mind if I see for myself?"
"Wouldn’t care to stop you I figure." She said with an air of confidence, but showed the frightened anticipation of a virgin anticipating her first night with her expression.
Sure enough, there was a six foot step ladder against the wall and a box with rope and other goodies under the stairs. It was a battle, but I managed both in one trip back to the living room.
"I would think Carl would set up the ladder here."
"Ah..ha"
"He would have to take the plant down from here like this."
"Ah..ha"
"Then the rope must have gone through the eyelet this way, so these cuffs would hang down and the other end of the rope would reach the cleat here."
"My you’re smart, on top of being good looking."
"Would you struggle when he led you to the cuffs?"
"Sometimes, but he was a big strong farmhand and I would figure that it would go worse for me if I struggled too much." As she came to put her hand in mine. "But first he would make me take off all my clothes, because he would have to ruin them if he did it after I was cuffed up."
"Could you show me how you did that, please?"
"Since you asked so nice. He would actually like it if I sort of danced and took my time doing it. He would lie down on his side right there in front of me with a pillow, like that one, pretending he was on some soft hay. I would imagine some nice music and move something like this and watch his reaction to make sure he was continually pleased, so he would go easy on me."
"I bet he was pleased. You look fantastic right now."
"Oh, thank you dear. But he acted a little harder to please than you are right now."
"Forgive me. Please go on. I’ll be quiet now."
"It’s okay, your way can be fun too. But, about now I would start to unbutton my shirt like this. It was better when I took my time between buttons. He seemed to like it better if I were to draw it out. Usually, I wouldn’t have this bra on. I would leave this sleeveless shirt on with one middle button holding it together until I removed my skirt or pants. For now, I could leave the bra on until the end instead like this. Would this please you? Just nod. Now down to my bra and panties like this I would plead with him not to make me remove them. But he would insist so I would remove one…and then the other like this. He would get up and take my hands away from my breasts and pubes and hold them to my sides as he’d walk me to the hanging cuffs. That’s right, just like this. I would think about resisting having my hands ensnared and arms hoisted over my head, but would back down and let him proceed."
I hoisted her up to her tiptoes, took several deep breaths to keep from passing out with excitement and admired her perfectly shaped body. If she weren’t my wife’s mother, I could have just as easily fallen for her under different circumstances.
She really seemed to need this right now and Amanda had taught me for years to delay my own gratification until she was completely satiated with hers.Besides, regardless of my relationship to her, there was something exquisitely erotic about a woman as beautiful as Monika being as vulnerable as she was right now.
"Well, you know this doesn’t seem exactly right. You see that handle across the top of that wooden box? It slides out and fits into notches aside those lined cuffs there. If you wanted, you could make my legs be forced wide apart and I wouldn’t be able to close them, no matter what you had in mind for me. Unless that rope stretches a little more, I think you’ll find you’ll need to let me down a bit to attach it. That’s it. On his way up, Carl might see fit to both smell and blow his breath between my legs. Yessss…like that! (Breath) (Breath) Before looking me intensely in my eyes he might be found to brush my nipples with the back of his hairy hands…Oooo…yesss. (breath) (breath) You might walk around me slowly, like he would, and see if you like what you see. If you like it, you might choose to unwrap what is in that cloth in the box and see if anything suits you tonight. What ever you choose, I’m sure I won’t be able to take it. No! No! Please not that! I can’t bear it. No! No! Pleasssse!"
It was like a dream. I had Monika squealing for over an hour. When it was obvious that she had no more energy to go on, I let her down, wrapped a blanket around her and led her over to the couch, her head on my shoulder, my arms around her, slowly rocking back and forth. Her hand slipped out of the blanket and slowly reached and cupped my genitals, just gently holding them, no motion, and we were basically back where we started, except, Monika was now asleep in my arms. I sat there motionless for a while with Monika now sleeping on my lap, a hand still on my groin, imagining the interesting life she must have had with Carl. What would it take for Amanda and I to have this kind of relationship? That would be a premature thought, as it turns out. I’ll try to tell you the rest of the story soon.