Our sex life has been a bit slow lately, given the stress of current events, but my sex drive and fantasies seem to be thriving, maybe even stronger than usual. Recently, while looking for some “misplaced” toys we hadn’t seen in a while, I came across our stash and rediscovered the face dildo and blindfold. I had completely forgotten about those gems. The sight of them alone was enough to bring me to full erection and set my mind racing with possibilities.

That night, my dreams were intense. The next day, when my lovely wife decided to go snorkeling with a friend, I set a plan into motion. I would tie myself to our bed, naked, knowing that she couldn’t possibly miss the hint when she returned.

I pulled some ropes and daisy chains from our old rock climbing gear and set up short loops at the base of the bed for my feet. I slipped my ankles through the loops and laid back. My legs were spread, but not uncomfortably so. After a test run, I adjusted the loops to make them tighter — now just reaching the top corners of the mattress near the foot of the bed.

Satisfied with the leg restraints, I moved on to my hands. My first attempt — one line for both hands above my head — didn’t stretch me out enough, nor did it feel secure. I imagined how ridiculous I must look setting all this up, but that image kept cycling back to a much hotter one: my wife finding me helpless and using me for her pleasure.

I re-rigged the lines to the sides of the bed, making two separate wrist restraints — each with a loop just large enough to force my hand through and pull down over the wrist bone. Once everything was measured and set, I tested them again. Lying there, wrists resting on the open loops, feet secured, I stared up at the ceiling, thinking: What now?

I’d tie myself up, blindfolded, and wait. Surely this would lead to some fun — even if it did seem a bit absurd. I grabbed the blindfold, the face dildo, and a stretchy silicone cock ring I’d forgotten was also in the stash.

I returned to the bed, laid everything out, and paused. Was this a sexy surprise or just... bizarre? Would she find it playful or depraved? I tried to picture what she’d see walking in: her husband spread-eagled and trussed up naked on the bed.

“A-ha,” I thought, running upstairs to grab the GoPro. I mounted it on the doorframe, aiming it at the bed. I figured I’d record a short clip to see just how ridiculous it really looked from a third-person view. Secretly, I also imagined how hot it would be if she returned, didn’t notice the camera, and began pleasuring herself on the dildo strapped to my mouth — capturing the whole thing by “accident.” A mental note was made: buy a hidden camera.

With the GoPro recording, I climbed back onto the bed. I slipped the tight silicone ring around my cock and balls. It wasn’t the most comfortable fit, even without a full erection, but it held everything firmly in place. I crawled back to the foot of the bed and looped my ankles into their restraints. Legs spread. Blindfold on forehead.

I rolled to one side, forcing my left wrist into the loop. Tight. Secure. Then, remembering the face dildo, I inserted the gag — that too-big rubber ball — into my mouth. Memories rushed in: the weight of my wife’s body, the dildo disappearing into her as she rode my face. I was overwhelmed with arousal. With my lust spiking, I yanked the blindfold down over my eyes and reached blindly to fit my right wrist into the loop. It was a struggle, but finally, with a sharp tug, it slipped over my wrist.

And there I was.

Spreadeagled on our bed. A silicone ring constricting my cock and balls. Blindfolded. A black dildo protruding from my face.

It hit me then: This must look insane.

I played through potential scenarios. Would she laugh? Would she remove the dildo and ask what the hell I was doing? Or would she crawl onto the bed, tease me until I was desperate, or ride the dildo — then me — until she came? My cock throbbed at the thought, bouncing above my abdomen with every twitch of my waist.

Why did I put the blindfold on? I thought. No worries. I’ll check the camera, then ditch the blindfold for a better view.

I lay there in the darkness, restrained and simmering, imagining her entrance. But then — my mind wandered. Had I locked the front door? Were the windows closed? Was I exposed to the street? Wait… was the GoPro uploading to the cloud?!

Panic replaced arousal. I turned my head and spat the dildo out, my jaw aching. I tried to lift my blindfolded head to check my wrist — still darkness. I tugged hard at my left arm. No movement. Too tight. I reached for the right wrist. Also tight. The more I pulled, the tighter the loops became.

Then it dawned on me: I had never tested an escape without using both hands.

Anxiety surged. My mind spiraled from fears of public exposure to the sheer humiliation of being found like this. I thrashed, rolled, tried to push the blindfold off with my head. My cock slapped against my belly with each failed effort. I was sweating. Panting.

I didn’t know how long I’d been struggling when I suddenly heard my wife’s voice outside — faint, but unmistakable. My heart rate skyrocketed.

She was home. But… she was with someone.

A friend.

Oh god.

My fear turned primal. What if they both came inside? What if she brought someone down to the bedroom? What if someone else found me like this?

I yanked harder at my right wrist. I was sure I’d have welts or even break the skin, but I kept pulling. Finally, after what felt like hours, my hand slipped free.

I tore off the blindfold, rolled over, and yanked my left hand out of its loop. Just outside, she was saying goodbye to her friend on the porch — feet from where my head had just been.

I never even considered she might not come back alone.
Scrambling, I kicked my ankles free and tossed the ropes behind the mattress. I grabbed the dildo and blindfold, stuffing them back into the stash. As I reached for a pair of shorts, I realized the silicone ring was still tightly wrapped around my now-pulsing cock. I yanked it off — painfully — and threw on the shorts just as I heard her come in the door.

“Hey babe, how was your swim?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

Sweating, heart pounding, I poured myself a glass of water while she headed downstairs to change. A few moments later, I followed — only to realize the GoPro was still mounted on the doorway and recording.

Frozen with horror, I looked to see if she’d noticed. No sign she had.
I quickly grabbed the camera, ran upstairs, and collapsed on the couch. My face burned with embarrassment.
Had she seen it? Had I left any other evidence?

Why do my fantasies always end in near-catastrophe? Why can’t I just be normal?

Still reeling, I looked back down the stairs — just in time to catch her walking past in her bikini. Her hips swayed, her ass perfect, and my erection — despite everything — began to return.