#343) Gone Fishing Without Leaving Home

In preparation for my birthday celebration, I went out to buy a new outfit. I didn’t need anything really, just wanted the lift that a cute new outfit always gives. While I shopped, I wondered what my significant other, Trey, might be getting for me.
I was looking at sexy underthings, and it occurred to me that I didn’t own a single pair of fishnet stockings. I did need something after all, I told myself. This item would complete my wardrobe, and probably add more life to my already lively sex life. I decided on basic black, medium wide weave, not too large, not too small, Goldilocks stockings. To go with them, I bought another schoolgirl outfit, with a short, pleated, plaid skirt and plain white blouse, this one with a cute collar and sleeve cuff treatment.
I had the outfit on when Trey came home from work. He’d told me that he’d take care of dinner, to alleviate me having to do the work, which meant that he got curbside to-go meals from one of our favorite restaurants. I noticed that Trey hid several other purchase-bags besides the plastic food bags.
I had to laugh to myself about all the effort I put into my new outfit; Trey had ripped it off my body within two minutes of arriving home. We ate informally, meaning we shoved forkfuls of food into our mouths as we made out on the kitchen floor. Sometimes we didn’t even bother with the fork and ate with our hands.
Trey clearly liked my new fishnet stockings! As soon as I was wearing this and nothing else, he began caressing my butt with a circular motion, telegraphing that I was about to be spanked. He warmed my butt to a radiant glow, then ripped the crotch right out of the stockings.
“Hey!” I protested, “Those cost me twenty dollars! I thought they’d last more than one night, you brute!”
He spanked my butt with a solid right cross to admonish me for complaining about his bedside manner as he got up to fetch the purchases I’d spied earlier. He handed me the bags.
“Happy birthday, darling!”
“Thanks!” I said sincerely, then added, “And thanks for gift-wrapping them so beautifully!” I got another sound spank for that snide comment.
One parcel contained a stainless steel butt plug of medium size. I didn’t have one, wanted one, so was pleased, and kissed Trey to tell him so. The other contained a stainless steel hook-like contraption, with a small bulb where the barbed hook would normally go if it were for fishing, and an eyelet on the other end. The whole thing was about as long as my forearm. My face registered a quizzical expression, silently asking WTF?
“It goes up your ass, at least the curved end does…” Trey volunteered. “Let’s try them both on for size!” From the bag, my lover withdrew a tube of KY lubricant, and then he helped me lie over his lap. With my fishnet stockings still on, Trey lubed up my rectum via the hole he’d torn in them, then slowly pushed the butt plug into place. He fingered my pussy with his other hand as he did so. My cunny started to cream, my pussy purr, as he put it in and wrenched it out over and over.
“Oh! That’s so goooood!” I moaned. We dropped to the linoleum floor, Trey had his hard cock out of his fly in a matter of seconds and pushed it into my vag as seductively as he had the plug. We found our rhythm and he started fucking me hard. “Ironic that I gave myself fishnets and you gave me a fishhook…” I babbled as he slammed against my tush with his hips. I didn’t voice the fact that to use the one, he’d ruined the other. I tried to focus my brain on the word-play centering around what we were engaged in, his fly, a plug, his big whopper inside me, but the sex was just too delectable, I couldn’t concentrate, I could only climax, which I did repeatedly.
I barely finished screaming and gasping when Trey pulled the butt plug from out of my anus. “Now let’s try the hook!” he exclaimed like a kid on Christmas morning. I wondered who his gift was really for, me or him. He pressed the bulb end against my rosebud.
“Do me a favor, warm that thing up some before cramming it up my ass, please…”
I thought he’d rub it between his hands, but instead, Trey turned the oven on and stuck it inside. I tried to block out the fact that he’d just pressed it against my gooey anus and the oven was where I prepared meals. Sometimes I feel like I live with a boyfriend who is eight years old! His erection was still inside me, so we kissed and made-out while we waited. When he reopened the oven door, I was afraid the metal thing would be terribly hot, but his trick worked, it was just divinely toasty. Trey put another squeeze of KY gel on the bulb and re-pressed it against my bum hole.
As you should know by now, this submissive is very anal. The sensation of that warm metal hook sinking into my ass was nothing like I’d ever felt before in my thirty three years of life. It was rigid inside a passageway that’s very soft and pliable. I felt like a shark that had been gaffed by fishermen and yanked out of the depths of my environment onto a boat deck. I was gasping for air. It wasn’t exactly a painful sensation up my patootie, but it wasn’t sensual and erotic, either. I felt hooked. As a sub, it made me feel controlled, restrained in a novel new way. I liked being hooked, partly because it wasn’t entirely pleasant. Trey threaded a thin rope through the eyelet and strung this rope through the slave necklace I wore around my neck. The hook sunk into my depths deeper with the slightest movement of my head. But when I threw my head back to give the rope some slack, the hook didn’t come out any. It only went in deeper, all the more uncomfortably, it didn’t come out. My sphincter muscles couldn’t push it out, either. I voiced this complaint to my lover.
“I won’t try to fuck you then,” he replied, and merely applied his fingertips to my leaking and smoldering pussy. After a minute of expert diddling, I was on the brink of another orgasm.
“I’m afraid to cum with that hook deep up my ass!” I whimpered.
“I don’t know! It just doesn’t feel ‘right’, it feels foreign…”
In response, my caring Top slapped my right butt cheek hard. I clenched onto the thing invading my interior, while Trey frigged my vag and spanked my ass.
“I’m gonna cum!” I screamed as a massive wave-like orgasm swelled inside me.
“You better, or I’ll make you keep that hook up there all night! Cum for me, lover! Bite down on that steel hook and run with it…”
It sounded like he was talking to a grouper instead of his girlfriend, but I ignored his words and concentrated on that admonishing hand slapping alternate cheeks and making me dive all the deeper into my sub space, into the tsunami that was enveloping me. It lifted me, carried me far away.
When I climax really hard, I squirt. I squirted more than I ever have due to being hooked. It was just the right amount of discomfort up my sensitive rectum to please this submissive whore.
“Thar she blows!” Trey chided as I piddled all over the floor. I collapsed into his arms. “Happy birthday, honey,” he whispered in my ear.
I kissed him passionately to express wordlessly that it had been.
The next day, as I was browsing photos on the Internet for inspiration, I ran across the color picture posted lowest below. It did something profound to me immediately, viscerally. The idea of being led around by a leash attached to my anal hook made me hot. To have that done in the presence of a fellow slave, who was similarly restrained made me wet. The thought that my master would be a cool, tall redheaded woman wielding a whip was too much. I pulled both pairs of pants down and began frigging myself concertedly, almost viciously with both hands, one for my sex and one for my anus, where the sense-memory of that unforgiving hook still lingered. My uncontrollable outcries reached Trey in the other part of the house. He came to investigate, caught me jilling-off. He saw the photo that had caught my imagination, saw what it was doing to me, what I was doing to myself. “Get the hook!” I growled at him. He sprinted to obey.
I was standing upright this time as he parted me, pushed the bulbous end into my tender opening and set it into me deeply. The line was still strung through the eyelet; he pulled it through my collar once more and hoisted me up onto my tip toes. This was the perfect height and angle for him to push his hard cock into me from the front. Play me, I thought to myself with all my being, and my lover got the message. Give me enough line to exhaust myself. I’m a trophy if you can land me. I floundered about on the barbed hook of his circumcised cock in one mouth, and danced on the punishing hook deep in my other mouth, my real mouth opening wide, my eyes bulging, my bare skin iridescent with a sheen of sweat.
My birthday was several weeks ago. Trey and I have ‘gone fishing’ more times than I can count in that short amount of time. In every room in the house, especially the bedroom, even in the backyard. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say I’m hooked.

10 responses to “#343) Gone Fishing Without Leaving Home”

  1. Such a sexy story, Jean Marie! Well done. We have an anal hook and it gives me butterflies! Every little movement of my head (when it is attached to a collar and leash) gives me sensations in my bottom. It really heightens the feelings of being controlled. Thank you for sharing 🙂 XOXO

    Liked by 5 people

  2. Read both of today’s posts.Thank you for my daily lighting up!
    To be honest I don’t think I care for the fishnet but the plug and the hook and the cord leading to the collar are very attractive to me. I have seen pics b4 but your story plus pics made me realize I just gotta have one of those! Your description of how it felt inside you was remarkable. And getting a spanking on top of that!
    You’re great!!!!

    Liked by 1 person

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