I was married, twenty-something years ago, to a woman named Kat, and she was the hottest women I ever knew. She was about five foot four inches tall, with dark brown hair, brown eyes, broad cheek bones, an exaggerated hourglass figure, and small but perfectly formed breasts. Her lips were unusually full, and soft, with a pleasant pinkish tint to them. I had no problem with her looks, and other guys found her attractive too. I would sometimes enjoy watching as their eyes tracked her as she walked by.

She was crazy. She once had a fender bender in a parking lot. I wasn’t even there, so she called me at work and told me about how it was my fault. She wasn’t kidding.

When we met, she actually told me that she considered sex one of her hobbies. She proved it too. Honestly, I know that practically every erotic story I have ever read mentions deep throat cock sucking and swallowing of sperm. Compare that to your real world experiences isn’t that kind of an unlikely percentage? Most women I have known don’t want you coming in their mouths, and no way are they swallowing cum. Kat swallowed. She didn’t like the consistency, but she enjoyed the flavor okay. And while she never actually deep throated my cock, she tried, over and over. I am not big, only 6”, and she never quite got all of it in, but I really liked her attitude. She enjoyed being good in bed, and I took pride in helping her come.

I had, back in the mid 1980’s, ordered a bunch of catalogs from a mail order catalog of catalogs. Clothing, including fetish wear, plastics, paints, coatings. Whatever caught my eye, if I thought it might become a source of information about where to get unusual clothing and prop making materials. I mean, I sent for the belly dance costume catalog. I sent for them all. When each catalog came in the mail, I would put it into a little file box I had, to find if I needed anything. I was a photography hobbyist, and found inspiration in the pictures and descriptions.

Kat knew about this, and she took little interest in it, until a couple of the fetish catalogs came in. One was shoes and boots, beautiful but expensive leather and vinyl things. The other was clothing, mostly leather fetish clothing, though it included restraints and such too.

She enjoyed looking at those catalogs, but I didn’t think anything of it. I mean, what did she or I know about that lifestyle? Nothing. Nothing at all. And anyway, where did you find those people if you wanted to learn?

I don’t know how she went about it, but Kat found out how to find those people. She paid the dues and signed us up as members of the San Diego Leather Association. After some kind of falling out with the National Leather Association, the San Diego organization changed its name to Club X.

We went to meetings, and it wasn’t what you might expect. Usually no one came leashed. Meetings weren’t orgies either (too bad!), but a pan-sexual organization of likeminded people getting together to share enthusiasm, ideas, and support. Education was part of the deal, too. I was surprised to find out that beating someone, even if they beg for it, is illegal in California. Even in a controlled environment, with a safe word, it’s still battery here, under the law. Consent makes no difference. You call that freedom? Don’t get me started.

We met lots of nice people, and a couple of not nice people. I found out that if you had your own dungeon, and were also an asshole, you got a pass on your bad behavior if you invited the right people to you parties. That was depressing. Club X picked up the cost of replacing the bed that somehow caught fire in a hotel room during Leather Fest (A fetish convention. Think Comic Con with whips and floggers. Okay, more whips and floggers.) When I found out what was going on, I understood why the entire Board had looked at each other out of the corners of their eyes before deciding on that one. That was a disillusioning experience.

One of the people we met, one of the nice ones, was Andy. He was a mechanical engineer, medium height, slender, brown hair, beard, always wore a baseball cap, really into bondage. He got off on being tied up, or otherwise restrained. He managed to combine his engineering profession with his bondage fetish. He built himself the Electric Chair.

The name sounds bad. Don’t let the engineers name stuff. I mean, yes the marketing guys really are weenies, but still. Electric Chair? Who would want to get into an electric chair?

Let me describe Andy’s Electric Chair to you. Imagine if you will, two equilateral triangles of tube steel, about three feet long on each side standing up on one of the sides. About 2 feet apart, with a chair mounted between them, at the apex. The chair has no legs, but is mounted on pivots on each side that support the chair above the floor. The whole thing is painted black, and the back, seat (two parts, left and right halves), arm rests, leg rests, and head rest are all covered with padded red vinyl. It had built in straps to restrain the occupant, black nylon with metal fittings. Unbreakable, they were located at the waist, chest, across the forehead, above the elbow, at the wrist, above the knee and at the ankle. Once strapped in, the seated person was essentially incapable of moving. You could wave at someone, I guess. Not much else. The head rest was removable; the rest of the actual chair was one assembly.

So, why the Electric Chair name? I’ll tell you why. It was motorized. No, you couldn’t drive it around. It had no wheels. But at the pivot point there was a motor. With this motor, you could tilt the chair forward, or back, or all the way around. This would place the occupant into any convenient position that you might choose.

There was another motor. The seat was split into two parts, right and left. The second motor adjusted how far apart the occupant’s knees were. You could bring them right together, or spread then fairly far apart. The motors were controlled with what is known as a pendant switch. This is a box with two switches on it, on for each motor. The box is at the end of a short cable, so that the operator may take it to any handy place around the chair. The whole thing ran off of regular wall power, just plug it in and you’re ready to go.

By the time that Kat and I found out about its existence, it had already starred in a couple of X-rated bondage movies. Interest was high, and Andy was giving thought to marketing the chair, building and selling copies to interested parties with the cash and will to own one.

Talk about your nich market! Still, there was bound to be little competition.

Andy approached Kat at a meeting, and asked her “Kat, would you think that Ross would take some pictures for me?”

“I guess so,” said Kat, “what for?”

“I would like to make a flyer about my chair. I would like to make more like it and sell them.”

“A flyer?” asked Kat, “I edit the Club X newsletter; I could do a flyer for you.”

“Actually Kat, I thought that you could maybe pose with me and my electric chair in pictures for the flyer” said Andy. “Would you be willing?”

“I guess I could, I like having my picture taken.”

And so it was decided that Kat would model with Andy and I would take the pictures. Kat informed me of my involvement in this plan, and we made preparations for shooting the flyer pictures the following Sunday.

When we prepared for the shoot, Kat made sure that she was clean, made up, including the reddest red lipstick she owned, hair done, and dressed appropriately in a black and red teddy with spaghetti straps and a snap crotch.

She wore thigh high black patterned stockings, a pair of black 4” heels, and black velvet opera length gloves. She brought a riding crop to use during the shoot. Andy would be strapped into the chair, and she would play the part of his top/mistress/tormenter. Oh yes, she looked hot.

I wore a short sleeved shirt and slacks, with loafers. I could do that, I wasn’t a model. I packed my photo lights and camera equipment and drove over there. It wasn’t far.

Kat wore a long coat for the trip over to Andy’s house, despite the warm weather.

Andy had a corner house in a canyon. The house was at the top of a stairway that leads past the detached garage located down below at street level. The chair was already set up in the living room. I carried all the gear in, and set it up while Andy and Kat talked about the chair and what Andy expected from her in this shoot. We all chipped in ideas for poses, and once I had taken some light meter readings and set the exposure; we were ready to put Andy into the chair.

Andy stripped down to his boxers and sat in the chair. Kat and I strapped him in, pulling the straps tight. As we finished, Andy’s face lit up.

“I am completely helpless now, I couldn’t get out no matter what!” he said. I took some pictures of him just sitting up, showing the chair and the straps. He was in there really tight. He practically glowed, confined like that.

Kat posed with Andy, her crop on various parts of his anatomy. Oddly, though he obviously enjoyed her threatening gestures and snaps of the crop to his body, including his crotch, he didn’t “Rise the Occasion” as you might expect. Kat enjoyed using the crop on him, really getting into keeping him guessing where it would be next. She took the controls, and tilted him back, and punished him with her heels, in some of the most effective shots of the day, including one where she put her heel into his mouth and Andy sucked on it.

Andy enjoyed the whole process, the strapping in, and posing at the mercy of Kat in particular. I ran out of film as Kat pressed her riding crop against Andy’s cheek, twisting her foot around as he sucked on her heel. I wound the film back into the canister, and emptied the camera. We had over a hundred shots to choose from.

Kat ran the chair back to the upright position, and we removed the straps holding Andy into the chair. He got out, and then turned to Kat.

“Would you like to try out the Chair?” he asked.

“Sure,” said Kat.

Wait, what? “Sure”? She Who Must Be Obeyed said “Sure”? I was shocked. She seemed to be such a top. I was surprised, but also anxious to have her strapped in before she could change her mind.

Andy and I got Kat into the chair, and tightened the straps holding her there. She said nothing, good or bad, about the experience. I took the control box, and tilted the chair back, until she was laid on her back. I was standing by her side, on her left next to her head. Andy stood across from me, on her right. I massaged her breasts through her teddy, and she sighed. This was a surprise; I had thought that she would object to my feeling her up with someone watching. She was going along with me, letting me excite her nipples into standing up with Andy right there. I decided to push her a bit, and took the straps of her teddy down, lowering her top to expose her sweet little boobs, showing them to Andy. I teased her left nipple, and Kat moaned. I looked at Andy, catching his eye and gesturing for him to go for her right tit. Kat moaned, softly, over and over, as he fondled her. I bent down and sucked her nipple into my mouth, using the tip of my tongue to make her nipple hard.

Kat was taking this opportunity to just absorb attention. She just lay there, strapped in, unable to do anything to stop us from doing, well, anything to her. I liked this, I had always liked watching her as I pleased her, liked hearing her make those wonderful sounds she made when she came. I realized that with her strapped in like this, she for once couldn’t do anything to stop me from having my way with her. I could do anything to her. It was not a feeling of power, though perhaps it should have been. It was however, a feeling of freedom.

I backed away from Kat, leaving both tits to Andy, and walked around the chair, taking the control with me. I stood at her feet and pushed the switch that spread her knees apart. I held it until the motor reached its limit. Kneeling between her spread open legs, I set down the control box and unsnapped the crotch of her teddy. I adjusted the angle of the chair until it was just the right height that as I knelt there, her pussy was right at tongue level. I reached to her pussy with both hands, and spread her lips apart, and licked her from bottom to top, several times. I then rose up a bit and kissed her clit, surrounding it with my lips and sucking it out from under its little hood. I wrapped my upper lip down over my teeth, and resting my upper lip on the top of her little hood, and went at it with my tongue, flicking just as fast as I could.

Kat expressed her pleasure at this action on my part, the muscles of her thighs going suddenly hard either side of my face. She struggled with her restraints as I massaged her clit with my tongue, breathing hard, gasps alternating with her moans now. Andy sucked on one tit and massaged the other; I probed her vagina with a finger, then two. She came the first time after about a minute, squeezing my fingers with her pussy, a rhythmic pulsing that grasped and released, grasped and released my fingers.

Kat would come like this, over and over, but then her clit would become too sensitive to touch. I had practiced with her, had learned how best to make her come, and how to keep her coming. As the muscle spasms in her cunt started to subside, I left off tonguing her clit, and started rubbed inside her pussy behind her pubic bone, rubbing her G spot. In only a few seconds, she came again. As I continued to rub inside her pussy, for a while she continued to orgasm, pulse after pulse, but finally she started to come down. Before the spasms stopped, I switched back to flicking my tongue on her clit, and set her off again. I had learned, through practice, just when to switch from one form of stimulation to another. As I had become familiar with her body, I had earned how to get her beyond the spasms and to just lock up her muscles tight, so that she was floating along in one long orgasm.

That was my idea of being good in bed.

I had gotten her into this state of continuous orgasm, then kept her there, switching back and forth from her clit to her pussy, until finally my fingers became too tired to make the “come here” gesture on her g spot, and I had to stop. The next time that her clit became too sensitive to touch, I backed away.

I looked up along Kat’s body, and was surprised to see that Andy had stopped doing anything with her tits. He was just standing there!

I snapped the crotch of Kat’s teddy closed, and righted the chair. Andy and I unstrapped Kat from the chair, and she pulled her teddy top back up. Andy showed us some more of his toys, including a hanging sling that he could swing in, but Kat was only politely interested, and we soon left.

I hadn’t come, Andy hadn’t come, and Kat came a lot. Kat just didn’t care. She was done, so everyone should be happy, right?

Right?

Still, way hot.