A Journey of Rest and Submission

Story codes: (As now required by Anna.) (This is the ‘Fine print’). Bondage story - StoryName Explicit Sex story - StoryName Intercourse story - StoryName Perverted Sex Play story - StoryName Public Exhibition story - StoryName This narrative covers those subjects plus other rather gross and repulsive matters. It could offend anyone or everyone entirely. Don’t read it! - But if you must, take the risk. Characters: Me:{Master}, {My wife: Submissive, Bride, Bridesmaid}

Mental Health days. My spouse and I took a few days off together once in a while each year we manage to snag an extra day or two. We often use this time for a mini getaway. Not that anything spectacular happens or we go anywhere extraordinary. It is essentially just a local trip for rest and relaxation. We like calling them mental health days. We merged Thursday and Friday into our weekend. Our plan was to head north on I-25 from Denver, traveling through Wyoming to I-90, then onwards through Rapid City SD., and finally south back on Rt. 79. With several days for the journey, it promised a scenic, interesting, and relaxing adventure. To start well, I insisted we leave Wednesday evening as soon as work was done. We covered some hours before stopping at a decent restaurant in Wyoming for dinner. We opted for a bottle of wine with our meal. Because of the wine, driving ceased for the night, so we checked into a local hotel. Both of us slipped quickly into relaxation mode, and things were going well so far. My wife took out her book to read while I undressed and jumped in the shower. After finishing, I lay back on the bed as I started reading too. Soon after, my wife put down her book and headed for the shower. Seizing what I saw as an irresistible chance, I gathered up the clothes she had removed and stashed them away. Then I went to my bag and laid out a nightgown, two leather wrist cuffs, and a matching set of ankle cuffs on the bed. Finally, I stepped out to the car to get another suitcase and one large garment bag that I had sneaked into the trunk. I hid these new items in the hotel room closet. I returned to my book just as my submissive emerged from the shower. This wasn’t part of the original plan for our trip, but she would discover it soon upon entering the room and looking at the bed. She took her time doing whatever women do after a shower. I heard a quick gasp followed by a groan as she stepped out of the bathroom. As expected, I had caught her off guard once again. “It’s all right,” I assured her. “I didn’t have anything too strenuous or severe in mind. I just wanted to ensure you stay in line and behave yourself during our travels.” I sat beside her on the bed and placed the collar around her neck. She began putting on the wrist cuff. Today, the bonds were more symbolic than functional. “We won’t have any of this whining and carrying on like you sometimes enjoy doing.” I smiled at her. She knew these were ‘Trumped up charges’. It wasn’t very late, but we went to bed anyway.

• o O o - Let me digress a bit. The idea behind our games is to try being original. I admit this keeps us on our toes and busy constantly thinking of new things to do. Occasionally, however, we repeat scenarios or reuse old tricks. We use standard bondage equipment in our play, occasionally adding to our stock of gags, cuffs, tethers, etc. Much of what we use is essentially normal clothing sometimes utilized outside its intended context or purpose. For instance, my mistress often dresses me in feminine attire. This serves mainly for the humiliation factor rather than anything else. Dressing women in something slightly unusual, I believe, is actually a tougher job. Men have a stricter code regarding what counts as acceptably manly versus their normal wear. Pick up any dress, and you are already well outside that code. Even pants or shirts with the wrong style, cut, or color can push one over the edge. Women, on the other hand, generally wear almost anything. Dress a woman in a men’s suit, and she doesn’t look out of place at all. The fit might differ slightly, but that is minor detail. Of course, each individual woman has her own code, much like individual men. But we are talking about women in general here. There isn’t much they don’t normally wear. Thus, to make a woman stand out, you really must lean toward the somewhat extreme. I have mentioned before that much of our game wardrobe comes from thrift shops. The two main reasons for this are that clothing there is usually in good condition—certainly enough for us to play in—and it is much cheaper. You can find a wide variety of clothes at thrift stores. In fact, you might encounter some really strange items if you take the time to look. Naturally, the first stop for any garment from such sources is laundry, but that isn’t really a big deal. I had been searching for months for one specific item. I visited many shops without quite finding what I wanted due to wrong size or style, etc., etc. Finally, one day I walked into a smaller shop expecting little and found exactly what I sought: A full bridal gown. Train, veil, the whole package. And in my desired size too. I spun a fable for the clerks about my sister returning home to marry her fiancé. How they didn’t have much money since both were just out of school. Naturally, as her big brother, I wanted to surprise her by buying her a gown which she couldn’t afford herself. I must have played it up a bit because before I knew what was happening, the old ladies running the store got teary-eyed and dug through the entire shop to find me all the accessories. Shoes, underwear, you name it. They piled stuff on the counter. By the time they were done, there was even a bridesmaids dress in the pile! It took two trips to the car just to carry everything out! If there had truly been a wedding we would have been well prepared. Even as it stood, for my own practical purposes I was thoroughly ready!
• o O o - We woke around the same time the next morning. Since I hadn’t tightly bound my submissive she could get up and use the facilities freely. “I’m going down to the office to fetch us some breakfast.” I told her. “I expect you sitting on the bed when I return.” The hotel offered a continental breakfast, usually meaning sweet rolls and coffee. That was more than sufficient for our needs. Not long after, I returned with juice, rolls, and coffee. My submissive sat dutifully on the bed. We ate our rolls together. “I’ll get your suitcase out once we are done. Pending my approval you can retrieve what you need from it. Then it gets locked, and goes in the car trunk. Here is your new suitcase for the rest of the trip. Your dress for today is hanging in the closet over there. You will find most everything else you’ll need inside the new case.” She looked back and forth between me and the suitcase on the floor but said nothing. When I finished my roll and juice, I stood up and lifted both suitcases onto one of the two beds in the room. Hesitantly she arose and went over to her usual suitcase, opened it, and peered inside as if expecting something unexpected. “You might want to check the dress and look into the other suitcase so you know what is needed,” I suggested. She hesitated again and slowly made her way to the closet. She removed the large garment bag and returned t

“Put it on the bed. I doubt she was unaware, or at least had a pretty good idea of what lay inside. Still, I’m certain she dreaded confirming her suspicions. The moment she finally looked into the bag, her expression was priceless; half a dozen emotions seemed to flash across her face simultaneously.

I could tell she thought it was a truly beautiful dress and that, despite its beauty, she would loathe being seen in public wearing it. I watched the realization develop: perhaps it wouldn’t fit right—maybe wrong size? She knew my familiarity with her body measurements well enough to know it likely fitted perfectly or closely enough that any minor inconsistencies wouldn’t matter or show.

She moved toward the new suitcase to further assess the situation and determine how extensive the damage was. It probably turned out worse than she hoped, but in a good way—we old ladies had done our job! She managed to salvage only her makeup, one bra, a pair of panties, and panty hose from her original luggage. I forgave the missing bra; with the corset provided by us, she wouldn’t need it today.

The gown itself was exquisite—an older, more traditional design featuring lace that flowed everywhere. The skirt had what you’d call a train: long enough to drag slightly behind her and flow onto the floor without being overly dramatic. Describing this from a male perspective might require two words of ‘feminese.’ A bustle underneath gave it volume and structure. I swear there was more than enough fabric in that single dress to clothe an entire family.

To walk anywhere, she had to pick up the skirt and hold it over her arm so it wouldn’t drag. Despite carrying such a large bundle of fabric, her legs remained fully covered. The gown fit as though tailor-made for her, complete with veil and all trimmings. Naturally, I insisted she wear it exactly as intended.

My bride and I left the hotel to continue our journey. When she sat in the car, the dress ballooned outward everywhere; closing the door took some effort. I wasn’t sure if she could see through the windshield with so much fabric before her eyes.

As expected, people stopped wherever we went to admire the bride—even cars passing on the road turned their heads toward her. We drove north along Interstate 25 through coal country, seeing large pit mines equipped with massive shovels and machinery. Several times during our trip, we needed rest stops for lunch; each time, she became the center of attention. I imagine it was quite a spectacle in the ladies’ room when we stopped. At lunch, every waitress—and perhaps some from neighboring tables—stopped by to wish us luck.

We eventually picked up Route 90 east toward Moorcroft, Wyoming, then took Routes 14 and shortly after, Route 24, leading us to Devils Tower National Monument—the formation featured in Close Encounters of the Third Kind. It’s actually an extinct volcano where lava rose and hardened; everything else eroded away over time. There’s a parking area with walkways to viewing spots, and a trail circling the tower itself that spans well over a mile. I insisted we see it all, including navigating that long path.

My bride was undoubtedly the center of attention again. People stopped to stare or admire her; some even took photos. Interestingly, only women seemed to look for a groom—men rarely did. Many approached to speak with her, and she played up being a blushing bride perfectly (though I knew why: she wanted nothing more than to hide). Meanwhile, I stepped back into the shadows.

Devils Tower sits somewhat in isolation; Moorcroft is barely worth noting on maps except for its exit number and role as an I-90 rest stop. We continued east on I-90 toward Rapid City, South Dakota—a decent-sized town that could pass as a suburb depending on regional standards (here, anywhere with two gas stations qualifies). Once inside the city limits, I suggested some exercise would do us good. Since we needed dinner anyway, walking down Main Street seemed logical.

My submissive didn’t seem thrilled by this idea—perhaps it was the walk, being out in public again, or sitting at another restaurant wearing that dress. All of those factors likely contributed. After parking, we strolled along looking for a suitable place to eat.

The restaurant was crowded; waiting briefly for our table allowed the customary crowd around her to gather while I faded away once more. Eventually seated prominently where everyone could see us, waitstaff and cooks alike stopped by. I played my role fully, feeding her from both plates as we sipped wine together holding glasses. When dinner finally ended, she looked immensely relieved—and received a discount for our troubles.

Next stop: finding another hotel for the night. Dragging her inside to inquire about rooms sparked excitement once more. Without reservations, the clerk secured us a nice room at a special rate—no extra cost compared to standard options upstairs where my bride could rest after her daylong ordeal while I fetched our luggage from the car.

Back in the room, suggesting relaxation led me to propose swimming. My submissive was thrilled—at first—to finally shed her wedding gown until she checked the suitcase for swimwear and found three small triangles of fluorescent green material connected by strings—a genuine swimsuit labeled appropriately despite its tiny size (about equivalent to band-aids). She gave me a look saying, ‘I can’t wear this outside!’ shaking her head. “Unless you want to go out naked,” was my reply. That phrase struck home as she slowly tried covering herself with those small patches of fabric.

ody. As we stepped out of the room, I finally gave in and tossed a small hand towel to her. “Alright. You can carry that towel with you as you walk to the pool. Once we arrive, just leave it on a chair or table.” With that, I pushed her through the door, and off we went.

Upon arriving at the pool, she dutifully dropped the towel onto a chair and made for the water. We both swim adequately, and we do enjoy being in the water. Typically, we hang out chatting about our day or making plans for tomorrow, but today she dove right in as fast as possible. I caught the hint and jumped in with her.

The water was cool at first, but my body adjusted quickly, and it felt quite pleasant. It became obvious that she wasn’t planning to exit until we were ready to return to our room, so I let her enjoy herself for a bit.

When we got back inside, I put the collar on her again and let her fetch the nightgown she had worn the previous evening. Without going into every detail of what happened next, suffice it to say that our honeymoon was certainly not over.

• o O o - The following morning mirrored breakfast from the day before. My Bride seemed to expect—and I’m sure genuinely hoped—that I would have something different for her to wear today. When it came time to get dressed, she gave me a pleading look. I just nodded toward the bridal gown and said, “You’d better put yourself together; it’s time we hit the road again.” This morning, as she got ready, I made sure she wore no underwear that might cover her nether region.

Mount Rushmore is only a short drive from Rapid City. It’s a popular spot with plenty of visitors and ample parking. Fortunately, we secured a decent spot not too far from the main entrance. As I opened the car door for her, I handed her a small item. “I want you to keep this safe until we return.” Some time ago, around Easter, I bought some plastic eggs used for hiding candy. I sealed a lead musket ball inside one with epoxy so it constantly rolls around, shifting its weight and creating vibrations. She knew exactly where she needed to put it for ‘safe keeping,’ as I had used this trick before. She also understood what the rolling ball would do to her; every slight movement vibrated the egg against her.

It’s a simple but clever device. She gave me a look of pleading horror as she took hold of it. The plastic was slippery when inserted, requiring some effort on her part to keep it in place. Since she wasn’t wearing underwear that could catch a falling egg, failing while out in public would certainly be embarrassing for her.

You can’t get right up close to the Mount Rushmore carvings; there is a visitor center and viewing area from which you get a good view of the sculptures. It’s a nice walk through the souvenir shop to the viewpoint. Naturally, we had that usual attention directed at us as people wanted to look at my bride.

With so many people around, all eyes were on her. By the time we reached the visitor center, it was clear the egg was affecting her. As we got to the viewing area, I thought she might have an orgasm right there in public—giving a new meaning to ‘viewing.’ The attention from the dress and its feel likely added to her excitement.

She must have been deeply impressed by the carvings because we spent considerable time looking at them. To be honest, while they are big and neat, I was less captivated than she was and wanted to leave sooner. A couple of women recognized her from Devils Tower earlier in the day. She explained that our luggage had been lost and all she had left was her wedding gown. She also mentioned we’d go shopping for regular clothes later.

The walk back to the car was slow. Near the welcome center, she leaned into my ear. “Please master, may I use the bathroom?” “Well, I suppose you’ll have to eventually,” I said. “But I’m worried about my package. I don’t want it to escape. You might as well go now and get it over with.” She knew women always take forever in there.

Today was no exception; it seemed like an eternity passed before she emerged, and we continued to the parking lot. As soon as we reached the car—and even before I could open the door—she grabbed me. Her whole body shuddered with pleasure as she erupted into a clear orgasm. There was so much dress fabric that someone standing nearby might not have seen what happened. I found my spot and held out my hand. “May I please have my package back now?” The egg slipped easily into my palm, slimy from her body. I had damp paper towels ready, which I’d fetched from the men’s room while waiting for her. We decided to spend another night in Rapid City.

I thought it wise to change hotels since the previous one had gone all out for my bride; seeing that same bride return the next night still in bridal attire might look odd. Although I enjoy strange things, I try not to let everyone know just how unusual we are. Once again, I dragged her into the hotel office to book a room, and once more, the staff got excited.

I noticed there was a restaurant right next door, which made dinner convenient. After bringing our bags up, we headed over for an early meal. By then, my Bride was definitely feeling the effects of the toy. She had worn the gown for two days now, which felt somewhat normal to us, though it’s always fresh and new for onlookers.

She was besieged by waitstaff and other patrons alike. The egg kept her alert; every time someone approached our table, she sat up and shifted slightly to speak with them. This small movement seemed enough to keep the toy active within her. Her heightened state only added to the image of a joyful new bride.

Dinner was exciting. Since we’d skipped lunch after a modest breakfast, I ate heartily while my Bride barely touched her food.

Eventually, we returned to our room. I considered swimming in the hotel pool but feared she might drown either from ecstasy or literally during an orgasm while trying to swim. She didn’t seem up for it anyway, as she could hardly walk.

She took off her wedding dress and hung it up correctly, placing it back into the large garment bag it arrived in. Once more I kept my hand just beneath her sex, and within moments a bright yellow egg emerged along with plenty of fragrant gelatinous fluid. Luckily, I had thought to keep a towel ready. She lay down on the bed curled up like a fetus. My wife was breathing harder as I dragged my fingertips down the cleft of her buttocks, across her anus, stopping just before her vagina. I slid into the bed beside her, tracing my fingers over her body. “You didn’t eat much for dinner,” I noted. “And you’ve been acting a bit odd all day.” I started caressing her breasts. “Don’t you feel okay?” I asked, pretending to worry. She moaned as I dragged my thumb along the slick length of her lips. My thumb entered her warm vagina and she gasped. “No!” she cried out. “I’m getting so hot I can’t bear it.” I nudged her with my body, uncurling hers next to mine. “Well, I’d better check your temperature just to be sure you don’t have a fever,” I said as I entered her. Her hard nipples were the size of gumdrops and tasted almost as sweet as I sucked on them, feeling the walls of her vagina clench around my thrusting penis. It wasn’t long before we both found our satisfaction. I’m certain that neither of us really remembers ending our orgy since we drifted off to sleep still joined together.

• o O o - We woke up relatively early the next morning. I once again spotted her suit. Although there didn’t really be much more than a bikini. The top consisted of barely enough material to cover her nipples, let alone hold her perky full breasts. The bottom wasn’t much bigger either. The fluorescent green color made it easier to spot, and stood out against her pale white skin. Since we missed the chance last night, we headed for the pool for a quick refreshing dip before breakfast. Like many hotels, this one had an informal self-serve area where they served food. This worked well because we could use that space without changing out of our swimsuits. I have a feeling my wife might have preferred to change first before eating, but I ignored her pleading looks and other subtle hints. Today’s addenda was to travel south on highway 79 until reaching highways 16/36 west. This wasn’t very far at all. Combining this route with route 87 would take us through Custer State Park, which is huge in itself. The park offers many activities and attractions. For our part, the plan was mainly to enjoy the scenic views while driving through. Wind Cave National Park borders Custer Park to the south. It was also part of the addenda to visit this area as well. The fun I had over the last two days made up for the relatively small price I paid for the wedding dress. Today being the third day, I decided that scenario was starting to wear thin. I didn’t want her getting too comfortable in that dress. Since today would mostly be spent driving with no major public appearances scheduled, I decided it was time to retire the dress. At least temporarily. I hadn’t really planned what to do with the bridesmaid’s dress included in this package. Still, Today seemed like a good moment to put it into use. Of course, this didn’t have nearly as much impact as the wedding gown. Nevertheless, it was quite formal on its own and far more extravagant than typical tourist attire. I had her keep the corset she’d been wearing. It pushed up her breasts and gave her a really nice overall shape. There was a fancy wide-brimmed hat that went with the dress, which I insisted she wear too. Clearly my wife was thrilled to be out of her wedding gown. When I handed her the new dress she simply groaned, rolled her eyes, and gave me one of ‘Those’ looks. We had scheduled a tour through Wind Cave. Fortunately we arrived early enough for it. To say the least, my bridesmaid looked far fancier than anyone else on the tour and certainly drew some attention. Not quite like in her wedding gown, but everyone still took notice. I didn’t pay much mind to it yourself though. You know how women are, and I’m sure she was bombarded with comments and questions about her dress. I have to admit that now I see why most women choose not to wear a bridesmaid’s gown while crawling through a cave. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t say I regret choosing this attire for my submissive. She really did look great in the outfit! By the time the tour ended it was getting somewhat late. Again it was time to find a hotel and a restaurant for dinner. There wasn’t any particular order to these needs. Whichever came up first would do fine. As it turned out, the hotel appeared first. We followed the usual routine with my submissive joining me on my quest for a room. As expected, she drew quite some attention as we registered. The clerks were happy to give us directions to a nearby restaurant. We put our bags in the room and headed out for dinner. Dinner was good but rather uneventful. By this time we were just two tired travelers and the thrill of eating out was rapidly becoming old hat, so to speak. My Bridesmaid seemed to have regained her appetite tonight. Perhaps because she hadn’t eaten much over the previous few days. Tonight’s hotel also had a pool, and I wasn’t about to miss an opportunity. I dug out the swimsuits which I’d spread out in the back of the car to dry during the day’s trip. I slipped the yellow egg into place as I helped her tie the bottom of her suit around her hips. There sure did seem to be more string than fabric. When we reached the pool my bridesmaid cautiously started heading for the shallow end. I sensed her plan. Knowing she is a good swimmer, I managed to push her into the deep end before she had much of a chance to get to the shallows. I jumped in behind her. She now had to swim, and I knew that the toy within her would take advantage of her motion as she needed to keep moving to stay afloat for it to work its magic. I did my best to keep her at the deep end. We didn’t stay long at the pool. My bridesmaid seemed anxious to return to the room. I won’t go into details, but soon enough we went to bed. We also did some isometric exercises in bed to round out the exercise from the pool.
• o O o - I have to be honest and admit that the final day of our trip was somewhat anticlimactic. We were both a bit tired and the schedule for this day was mainly the drive back home to Denver. I dressed my bridesmaid in the gown from the previous day and we headed out. I’m not saying the day wasn’t interesting on its own. There were the usual stares and looks from people. New scenery awaited us which was also nice. We were both sort of worn out from the previous three days, and now that reality hit as we started heading home, the high we had been riding began to fade. It was still early when we arrived home. My bridesmaid grabbed one of the smaller bags and headed into the house while I carried the rest of the luggage inside. It took me several trips to bring everything in. Not that there was really all that much luggage. Of course, there was the extra suitcase and the large garment bag I had brought along for her. I didn’t want to strain myself so I took my time bringing the stuff in. When I finally arrived in the master bedroom my bridesmaid was waiting for me. She removed my clothing then guided me into the master bathroom. The room was lit by several candles surrounding a tub filled with foam. I noticed that there was a glass of

A glass of merlot (my go-to wine) rested beside the tub, with a generous shrimp cocktail nearby. She led me into the warm water and stepped away for a moment. When she came back out without clothes on, sponge in hand, she climbed right in to scrub every inch of my body. Between scrubs, she fed me pieces of shrimp that perfectly hit the spot I didn’t know was empty until then—enough for both her and my bridesmaid to enjoy. Later, she helped me up from the water and took care to dry me off completely before guiding us to bed. The sheets were turned down on our side, ready for me.

“That was a great trip,” she whispered as we cuddled close.

P.S.: I had noticed the bridal gown hanging in the guest room’s closet (managed by Wardrobe) for future use, and it vanished for several days. When it came back, it looked fresh and clean once more.