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Introduction:

A male college student, Patrick, appeases the campus bully in the way he thinks best, but which also fits in with his own secret proclivities. Many years later, and completely by chance, Patrick's then wife crosses paths with this same bully and discovers she likes his brand of dominance in the bedroom. Their subsequent actions, both separately and in collaboration, expose Patrick's shaming proclivities and drag them into the open, and discover that may not be a bad thing.

Hi …. I’m Patrick and 50 years old. Throughout virtually all my adult life I’ve worked as an admin pen-pusher of one sort or another, with the last few years being at Sloth County Hall. Although I’m a “Mr. Average” with an average income, my wife (Debbie) and I live with our three teenage children in a beautiful, large home, almost a mansion, in a prestigious suburb along the bay. My children are being privately tutored, and we own two new BMWs.

Although my wife rarely works nowadays, it was her endeavours which helped us achieve this lofty status. Most of her time during her 30’s years, plus a year or two either side, and apart from the obvious three pregnancies, she worked as a private consultant, which was an occupation she seemed to have greatly enjoyed. In truth, I was never quite comfortable with her often being away from home, sometimes for several days at a time, especially with having to leave our infant and growing children in the juggling hands of my sister and I.

Still, the on-site consultancy and the seminars she conducted all paid exceedingly well, and filled our coffers to near overflowing. But despite it turbocharging our financial situation, I was relieved when she finally called it quits.

My work has almost always been based around boring admin, where office politics and gossip often run rife. Although I don’t really care what other people say behind my back, I seem to have always been plagued with furtive accusations of being gay, or a masochist, and at one particular stint in an office down town, I received feedback that the rumour-mill had labelled me as a sissy, wimp cuckold. Of course, there was never any substance to this malicious gossip, but sometimes mud sticks and can wear you down.

The only concession I’ll make in self-analysing my personality is …. I’m probably not very assertive. It’s not that I don’t have strong principles. It’s more like an aversion to conflict.

Anyways, I apologise if my rambling, context landscape was too mundane, but I felt it necessary, so you can fully appreciate the gravity of the series of events which occurred around 20 years ago, when I’d just turned 30 ……

Back then, after 5 years of marriage, my wife Debbie, who was then 28, was getting crazy to start having babies, and why she insisted we buy our first home. She wanted a secure and permanent base for our inevitable offspring.

So, after lots of debate and searching, our savings and budget found us with a mortgage on a cheap, 2 bedroom place in the run-down side of town. But it was a committed step onto the property ladder, and with its decent back garden and large, detached garage, at least I’d have my own private man-cave. Many of the other homes in the area were renters, owned by penny-pinching landlords who only did basic maintenance. The homes either side were rentals, with a young couple with two kids on one side, and old Mrs. Hodgeson on the other. After 3 months, we were only on passing terms with the young couple who were wrapped up in their own lives. But we were devastated when Mrs. H. moved out to go into a nursing home. We’d grown very fond of the old girl next door.

It meant we’d be getting a new neighbour.

……………………

I was shocked and dismayed when I saw Kevin pacing back and forth in the entrance to next door’s driveway. Years ago in college he’d been a manipulative and vindictive bully, and I hoped I would never see him again. He was big and imposing and had frequently terrorized the other students. I’d seen him dish out severe beatings to those who tried to buck against his outrageous and carnal harassment. He was half insane and overtly depraved …. An immoral and deranged psychopath. Male or female, pussy or ass, it didn’t seem to matter to him. So when it was my turn to sample his perverse brand of torment, I’d simply caved in from the start. He then took it for granted I was his to command, and for several weeks I was his very personal slave. I reasoned it was better than black and blue beatings, so I’d served him however he wanted. I thanked the Lord when he eventually got bored of our ‘alliance’, and found someone new to go torment. It was bliss to be finally left alone.

……………

As I watched Kevin’s constant pacing in next door’s driveway, a random glance caught me watching from my veranda and he waved his arm, beckoning me to come join him.

I daren’t simply ignore him ….. Who knows what kind of backlash that may have caused? So, after a deep breath to steel my nerves, I reluctantly sauntered across to stand near him. Surprisingly, he didn’t recognise me at first, as he told me his name and informed me he’d be my neighbour for the next 6 months.

Then, as we talking, his polite eye-to-eye suddenly became intense, and as he studied my features a broad grin broke out across his face.

“I know you… you’re Pinky from Drums Leigh College. Weren’t you the one I used to….”

I inwardly cringed at being reminded of the torment I’d endured during the time we were together in college.

“Those days are long gone, Kevin. My name is Patrick, and would appreciate being addressed as such,” hoping my blunt interruption and forthright statement would put our past interactions behind.

“Pinky Patrick with his silky pink panties. I remember now. I bet you’ve still got them, huh?”

I swung my head around to see if anyone was in earshot, my panic a dead giveaway.

“So, you do still have them, you pervert. And I bet you still wear them, huh?.”

“No, you don’t understand. I only had them because it was an adolescent thing. A souvenir from my first love.”

“So why did you used to wear them in college then?”

“I didn’t wear them. Someone found them in my sports-bag one time and I was .. persuaded .. to put them on in the showers after training. But it was only that one time.”

“Oh yeah. You put them on, then as I recall you…..”

“Look Kevin.” I jumped in to stop his flow. “That was a long time ago. Just let it drop, yeah?” as I attempted my most assertive tone.

I couldn’t allow him to perceive my unease at having, yet again, to contend with this towering hulk of a man who I knew was mentally unstable. He’d controlled my life and caused too much misery and humiliation in the past. I now had a wife and mortgage for goodness sake. I’d moved on. I was worried Kevin may consider other thoughts.

“My removal van is here, Pinky. But I’ll see more of you later, I’m sure.”

I retreated is despair. My only hope was to try and avoid this nasty piece of work for the next six months.

……………………………………..

When it had been my 18th birthday, my parents had insisted on throwing a lavish party, and most of my family were there, including my dear Aunt Molly. When the alcohol flowed and tongues became loose, it inadvertently and embarrassingly came to her knowledge that I was still a virgin. In her merry state due to too many vodkas, she privately told me she'd personally rectify the situation. And she did, exactly three days later. Despite being 42, which seemed quite old to me at the time, she was an absolute wildcat in the sack, and always the initiator and dominant partner during our 6 months passionate and animalistic affair. She always wore pink panties, and many times I watched her slide them down her long, slim legs to reveal her perfectly shaved pussy which would soon be riding my cock. I never masturbated during those glorious, summer months. I never had to, because hardly ever three days went by without me being used as a sex toy by my dear, sweet Aunt Molly. Sadly our debauched fling had to end when my end-of-senior break was over and it was time to go away to start college. Looking back, it is probably just as well, because she was steering me down a very perverted path. We had reached a point where she would routinely tie my outstretched arms to the sides of the bed so she was free to use me however she wanted. Then, during the last couple of weeks of our ‘sessions’, she’d started to insist I was installed with a butt plug, to get me broken-in, she explained, for what ‘other games’ she had planned. One time, with a butt plug inserted and my legs tied together while she was riding my cock, she pushed her pink panties into my mouth. Then, riding me harder to bring me near climax, she started hard-slapping my face. “Don’t you dare cum in me” she hissed, “Don’t you dare cum in there or I’ll fuck you like a bitch with my strap-on”. I convulsed and erupted just a few seconds later, fully conscious of her ominous threat. I was never to find out if she was serious, because college was looming and our debauched fling had to end. She did give me a pair of fine-silk, pink panties as a parting gift though. They had become a mind-set, a trigger, where if I saw a pair, I would become aroused, associating them with being dominated, tied and gloriously ravished to climax. Unfortunately, it then became a habit to wear them whilst masturbating, which I frequently did when on my own in my dorm at college. I’d fantasize about being tied and sexually used and abused, and what Aunt Molly may have had in her plans. This only reinforced the association between the sight and feel of pink panties and perverted arousal and the absolute best orgasms ever.

They were my Achilles Heel.

……………………………………….

MONDAY

A week after Kevin moved in, I came home from work on Monday evening to hear my wife announce we’d been invited to his house warming party.

“What, Kevin has been here?” I asked, my voice barely containing my angst.

“Yeah, he popped around just after lunchtime when he saw I’d got back from my shift at the library.”

“And what did he say exactly?” dreading the possibility of several unpleasantly compromising replies.

“He just said that you and he were old college buddies, and asked if we would like to attend his house-warming party on Saturday evening. He was only on the doorstep for a couple of minutes. After he told me you guys knew each other, I invited him in, but he said he was in a bit of a rush. He said maybe next time he’d bring some cookies and join me for coffee and entertain me with some old school stories he bet you’d never gotten around to tell me. Why didn’t you say you guys were at college together?” she asked with a quizzical stare.



I became blank at her question as I gulped in despair and stared into a vacant middle distance. Of course I’d never gotten around to telling her some of those stories. I’d intended to take them with me to my grave.

After several tense seconds, when my wife realised I wasn’t going to answer, she continued, “Anyways, he said it was a reverse fancy dress. The women were to be dressed as male characters, and the men would be dressed up as women. He said to say for you not to feel embarrassed about coming dressed as a woman, like as if you might be reluctant or something. Anyways, of course I said we’d be there. It sounds like fun.”



I scuttled away before my wife had chance to perceive any emotion. My mind was in meltdown. Should I tell my wife not to speak to Kevin? Should I tell her we can’t go? That would surely open a barrage of uncomfortable ‘whys?’ I had to go see Kevin and assert some kind of authority, otherwise this mental torture could go on for months. After dinner I went round to see him.



………………………………….



“Hi, Pinky,” he said, as I stood on his doorstep. “I didn’t expect to see you here this evening. Party-time isn’t until Saturday,” Despite his words, he was grinning like he knew I’d show up.

“Look, Kevin. You’re going to have to stop dragging up the past. I won’t put up with it.” I asserted, trying to disguise my discomfort.

“I can understand why you’d like to forget the past, ‘cos this afternoon it all came back to me. I’ll be honest with you Pinky, until yesterday, I’d completely forgot. And I can’t blame you for being ashamed of your past behaviour, but we’re neighbours now, so I’ll cut you a deal. If you come to the party, I promise I’ll be a good neighbour. If you don’t, it’ll be an excuse to pay your wife an occasional visit. Tell her some stories.”

“You leave my wife out of it.”

“Hit a nerve, have I? It’s up to your wife whether she allows me to come and visit, especially when I know you’re not there. Or it’d be even better is she comes round here and look me up, which could result in her looking up at me as she kneels at my feet.”

“Enough! I’ll come to your stupid party, but after, you stay out of my life from then on, ok?”

“Sounds fair to me. I can’t wait to see you dressed as a woman, though. See you then. And don’t forget your extra special underwear.”

“I won’t be wearing anything special for you.”

“Oh, I expect you will be. For sure at the start, but maybe not by the time of the climax. Under something flimsy and frilly is my suggestion, and as you know, I always have my way. Anyways, I can’t stand here talking all night. I’ve calls to make. I haven’t organised the video-taping yet. Be sure to say ‘hi!’ to your wife.”



With that, he closed the door in my face, and I slinked home like a scolded, lost puppy. So much for standing up for myself. Even worse, I’d called his party ‘stupid’ and virtually ordered him to stay out of my life afterwards, and Kevin’s not the type who takes orders.

…………………………….

TUESDAY

The next day, Tuesday, I arrived home from work to more disturbing bad news.

“Kevin called around here again this afternoon.”

“Oh, joy,” I silently sighed inward. “What did he want today?”

“He said he was going to take some photos for nostalgia at the party, and did you still have your old sports gear. I told him you kept all your old kit in that tatty sports bag in the garage. I had just gotten out of the shower and had my robe on, so he said for me not to bother, but asked could he go have a look and grab what he needed by himself. I gave him the key and said he was welcome to go hunting.”

“Did he say what he was looking for?” I asked through my rapidly drying mouth.

“No, but although he didn’t seem to have anything with him when he brought back the key, he said he’d found what he wanted.”

“I’d better go check he didn’t leave a mess,” I said over my shoulder as I headed out to the garage. I almost ran when I was out of her sight. I grabbed the bag off the shelf and delved into the zipper pouch inside. They weren’t there. My treasured pink panties, which I’d kept carefully hidden, were gone. I composed myself and headed back to the kitchen.

“Was everything OK?” my wife asked.

“He’d put my bag back in its place, and nothing else was disturbed.” I said truthfully.

“He’s a bit of a cheeky one though, isn’t he?” my wife commented.

“Why, what did he say?”

“It’s not what he said exactly. It was more the way he conducted himself. He really checked me out when he saw I was wearing a bathrobe. He’s such a big guy that when he took a step closer, I thought he was gonna reach out and rip it right off. It was a bit of a spine-tingling moment actually, knowing he could have rendered me naked at the simple flick of his wrist. I’m glad he’s your buddy. If a huge stranger came so close with the same glint in his eye, he might have actually gone ahead and rip-stripped me.”

This was getting worst by the day.

“If you want me to stop him from calling….” I ventured hopefully.

“No, don’t be silly. It was probably my imagination running wild.”

……………….

That night in bed, I felt my wife jiggling about in her sleep. At least I think she was asleep.

………………..

WEDNESDAY

The next day, Wednesday, when I arrived home from work, I was told Kevin had called around again, this time for coffee. My wife said he’d been charming, but again had been cheeky, and at every chance had stood close, which had made her feel small at his side. He’d said it was a shame she wasn’t still in her bathrobe, having really enjoyed what he saw.

“What, Kevin came inside the house?” A stupid question, as she’d said they’d had coffee.

“Of course I invited him in. He’d brought cookies with him just like he’d promised.”

“Was he here long? Did you guys talk about much?” I fished, as I tried to hide my involuntary shaking.

“He was really charming and quite entertaining, and we talked almost all afternoon. He told me some stories, engrossing and scary, while I was laid outside in the sun.”

“Laid outside in the sun?” I repeated, almost in a squawk. “You were laid out in the sun?”

“Well, while we were chatting, he said it was a shame I wasn’t wearing my bathrobe, so I thought I’d indulge him, and after coffee I went and put on my bikini. Then we went outside so I could work on my tan, and he sat on the lounge just beside me.”

“Oh,” I gulped, “And he told you some stories? No tall tales about me, I hope?”

“No, not really. Some were about college and your name was mentioned, but mainly we talked about him. He doesn’t have any kids, and I told him neither did we, although I’d come off the pill to start trying. He wished us both luck and said he wished he could help, and seemed impressed we were buying our own home. We talked about our jobs and how we all were doing, and what he does for a living. He said he makes his cash, and inferred he’s got plenty, by wheeling and dealing in whatever he can, and something he called ‘medieval stocks and shares’. I didn’t really understand, but anyways, he said it’s his first legitimate job since being let out. Did you know he’d spent time in gaol?”

“No, I didn’t. Did he say what for? He’s always been a bit of a villain.”

“I almost didn’t tell you ‘cos I thought you might freak. He was convicted as a biker gang leader”

I raised my eyebrows in half disbelief. “He got put away just for that?”

“Well, it’s what the gang did, and how lawless they were. That’s why the judge sent him down. They were into home invasions, where they’d break into mansions whilst the folks were still home, and sometimes they’d acted quite brutal. They’d rough up the men and force the women to strip, and lock any children in cupboards. He said they were only in it for the cash and jewelry, and they’d terrorise the owners until they handed it all over.”

“Oh Jeez.” I said, “That would be a gaol sentence.”

My wife continued…..

“Yeah. It really gave me the goose-bumps. But I had to ask… I wanted to know…. were they really that rough with the owners? It was like it suddenly made him angry, and he glared with wild menacing eyes and kinda growled and asked, ’Do you really want to know?’ Oh, darling, he said it so scary I was literally shaking, but I still nodded ‘yes’, then stupidly covered my ears. He pulled one hand away to force me to hear, then spoke in a deep, sinister voice, ‘Sometimes when we’d beaten and tied up the men, we’d make full use of the women.’ It made my hairs prickle on the back of neck when I realised what he was meaning. So I had to ask him, ask if that’s what he meant, that the women were subject to rape?’ He just looked at me cold and razzed me with a ‘maybe they were, and maybe they weren’t….. or maybe I just shouldn’t tell you.’ Then he let go of my hand and just kinda stared at me for a few seconds, like he was scrutinised me or something. I was too stunned to say anything, so he carried on with the story. He said that if they broke in some place and found a smoking hot woman, then ‘maybe’ all the guys in the gang. I told him I didn’t want to know any more, and he lightened up and said it was all behind him now and he’d gave it all up, ‘But’ he’d said, ‘except for maybe an occasional smoking hot woman’. I jokingly asked him if I was at risk, and he said that because I was red smoking hot, in truth he’d have to say ‘maybe’. But then he just smiled and relaxed and said I was yours and that I seemed content and quite happily married. He said I would only be a ‘maybe’ if you didn’t mind me getting the same treatment. I slapped his arm and said, ‘hey buster, what about me, what if that’s not what I wanted, what did he think about that?’ That’s when he scared me, ‘cos his eyes flared up again and gave me a real angry glare and said I wouldn’t be given a choice. He said he’d do whatever he wanted for as long as he wanted, and his gang would do just the same. Then he burst out laughing and said he was only teasing and I should’ve seen the look on my face. I slapped his arm and told him to stop being such a big bully and an ass. He said he was sorry and was only joking. But then he stared at me again and in a kinda low, hypnotic voice he said, ‘Debbie, you know you are hot, and have your own needs, and deep down, I bet it’s you who secretly wants it’. I don’t know what I was thinking, but like I was caught in his theme, and I stupidly blurted out ‘maybe’. As soon as I’d said that he grabbed hold of my arm and yelled, ‘Stop!’ It gave me a fright, but he said we shouldn’t joke about such things, ‘cos I’d no idea what his gang had been like. He said he’d seen them go crazy when they’d got a hot woman, and I couldn’t imagine the things that they’d do. He said they were complete animals when they got fired up, and things could get way out of hand. He said on one particular night when they’d found a lone woman, they got her surrounded and flipped out their switch-blades and…… I tell you, I started to freak, but he just burst out laughing again. I told him he’d really scared me that time and not to do it again, and thank goodness, he started talking about all the motorcycles and cars that he’d had. But after a while I told him I had to get on with my chores and could we call it a day. He was very polite and apologised if he’d outstayed his welcome. I said I didn’t mind him calling, but today I’d run out of time. He stood up to leave, but then suddenly flicked out his hand and yanked on one of the strings on my bikini bottom and pulled it ‘till they nearly fell off. I grabbed it back, but not before he’d had a chance to check out my pubes. I told him off, but he called me old-fashioned and a bit of a prude and told me ….. well, pretty much ordered …. that I should get a razor and shave the shit off. I told him to well and truly get lost, and what I did was none of his business. But then he was really sincere and said he was sorry and didn’t mean to upset me, but that a bald pussy would make me even more sexy than I already was and increase my chance to fall pregnant. That made me flush red, but he said he was speaking the truth and was only setting me straight because we were friends. I told him to stop being such an ass and that he should go, and thankfully he started walking away. But then he turned around and said ‘but you will shave it off, all off for the party, and I know you won’t dare disobey me’. That really scared me, ‘cos he sounded so serious, and I was glad when he got to the gate. But then he turned round with his big, candy smile and asked if it was Ok to call around tomorrow. I know he’d been teasing and only having fun, so I nodded to say ‘that’s OK’…. Oh darling, I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I suppose that’s all fine.” I mumbled in total dismay.

What else could I say?

……………

His build and his charm made him ooze with charisma, disguising the evil within. But after an agonising internal debate, I decided to just let it slide. He’d said he was joking and hadn’t harmed Debbie, so I couldn’t point to what he’d done wrong. If he’d really done time and I called in the cops on just a lame vague perception, the repercussions were potentially awful. With no grounds and no proof, if I caused him aggravation, it could seriously and painfully backfire. After weighing up all the options, I decided it would be for the best if I turned a blind eye, and forget their whole conversation.



……………

Later that Wednesday evening there was a knock at the door.

“Kevin,” I exclaimed with hidden dismay, “To what do we owe this honour?” I asked as politely as I could, knowing Debbie was sitting in earshot.

“Have you got a few minutes, I’d like you to come around and have a look at something?”

“Well, I….”,

“Oh, come on. Just a few minutes,” he coaxed, as my wife walked up to my side.

Kevin continued. “I just want to borrow your hubby for a while. I want the party to go as planned, so I wondered if he could rehearse something for me. I promise I won’t tie him up for too long,” he said, as he stared down at me full in the eye.

“Of course,” Debbie cheerfully chipped in. “Tie him up as long as you like. My film is coming on TV, one that he hates, so he’d be skulking off to the garage if he wasn’t with you.”

“Thanks a lot, Debbie,” I said flatly, her revelation giving me no other option.

……

So I found myself inside Kevin’s house for the first time since he’d moved in.

“Beer?” he asked.

“No thanks. What do you want Kevin?”

“Well it’s like this, Pinky. I don’t know what you had planned to wear at my party, but I have your attire here,” as he gestured to a big, long, flat box on the table.

“I’m not going to wear anything that makes me look like a fool,” I said as firmly as I could.

“Take a look,” he said, as he flipped the lid. It appeared to be a complete Little Bo Peep outfit, with a bell dress, jacket, bonnet, curly blonde wig and a wooden shepherds crook.

“I’m not…..”

“Put it on. I want to see.” It was more of a command than a request. I looked at him, pleading with my eyes not to make me do this.

“We have a deal for when you’ve been to my party….... so put it on”, his final words a growl as he took two steps towards me.

“Ok, ok,” I fatefully backed down. I started to remove my jacket.

“I’m not a pervert,” Kevin said, “ I don’t want to watch you strip, especially as you need to be buck naked to transform yourself into a true girly Bo Peep.”

He surprisingly he turned his back, and two minutes later I was totally naked, fishing from the box a pair of frilly, light- blue bloomers, the obvious first thing to put on. As I was bent over naked with one foot in the bloomers, Kevin abruptly spun around. I instinctively froze, but he urged, “Carry on, there’s lots to do. Your wife will be watching her movie for a couple of hours, sure, but it’s not like in college when we had the whole night.”

He stood and watched as I hurriedly pulled up the bloomers, then wriggle myself into the long, light blue, frilly bell dress. I put on the wig as best I could, then the jacket, and topped it off with the broad rim bonnet. I reached for the crooked stick, but Kevin said to leave it alone. I couldn’t help but notice there were little straps with buckles and hooks all around the bottom of the dress but although it looked strange, I didn’t consider what they were for.

“The belt needs to be much tighter,” he said, as his hands went to work, shortening it a couple of notches, squeezing it tight into my stomach. “Take off the bonnet and jacket, I want to try something,” he ordered. “Now, strike a pose with your arms in the air. Clasp your hands together at the back of your neck, and make sure you tightly entwine your fingers”

When I’d done just that, he reached down and started to gather up the hem of the dress and lift it high in the air, effectively blocking my view. The stirring of the dress continued, and I heard the repeated clicking and latching of buckles somewhere over the top of my head.

“What the….” I started to protest, as I realised the hem of the dress was being buckled together above my head, effectively encasing me in.

“Shut up and stand still,” Kevin barked, as I felt and heard yet more straps and buckles being pulled and clicked into place above my head. My hands were still behind my neck with fingers entwined, and with my elbows now almost touching and with the inner-sides of my wrists squashing into the sides of my neck, I was effectively locked immobile in place.

“It works,” Kevin declared. “Look, you’re in the prettiest strait jacket I’ve ever seen.”

But I couldn’t look. The upper half of my body was completely encased in upturned skirt, and I couldn’t see anything. Then I realised my lower half was only wearing frilly bloomers.

“Come for a walk,” Kevin said, as I felt him steer me several steps backwards, encased in a blinding bundle of dress. Then I felt a tugging upwards of the straps above my head. I was being hung up, suspended on some kind of master hook. I heard a ratchet clicking and felt myself being hoisted even more, until I was balanced high up on tip-toe.

“These won’t do,” Kevin said, as I felt his fingers find the waistband of the bloomers. The next thing I knew, my ankles were being lifted one at a time as he slid the bloomers completely off.

“Time for pink panties, don’t you think?” Kevin said in a mocking tone. “They should make you feel much more relaxed,” as I felt my ankles being lifted again. A familiar, cool silk smoothness was being slid up my thighs, and my cock gave an involuntary stir. When he’d pulled them up into place, I felt his fingers slide around to straighten the waistband. Then, as his hands smoothed me down to get a neat and snug fit, his palm started rubbing at my crotch.

“It feels nice, doesn’t it, having your weeny in smooth, soft, pink panties? But they are coming back off and going in your mouth later. I don’t want to hear you squealing like a pig when my cock is reclaiming your ass.”

“No, please don’t do this.” I breathed, almost in a whisper, so weak it was barely a protest. Oh why hadn’t I spoken out earlier? My words bore no authority now, emitting from inside a girly, frilly blue bell-dress. He had methodically ensnared me with hardly a whimper, and now his palm was stroking my crotch. I mumbled more words of pathetic lame protest to try stop his massaging palm, but with my erection now steadily building, instead of recoiling, I pushed back at the source of abuse. My hapless thrust forward encouraged him further, and his rubbing palm claimed me harder and faster. Kevin knew he was now in control as he tormented and teased with his words.

“You love this, don’t you, my pink pantied pansy. You loved it in college, and I bet you still do. Go on, grow hard for me, faggot, you know that you want to.”

I hated Kevin for doing this. But I hated my cock more for its selfish betrayal as it danced to his lecherous tune. And as much as I wanted my cock to stay soft and limp, it inexorably grew larger and longer.

“That’s it, sissy, swell that cock for me. I know you can’t stop yourself. Do you want me to give it a suck when it’s all nice and hard? Suck your cock before mine goes up into your ass. I’m going to breed you tonight, just like the old days, you fag, sissy bitch. That’s why I brought you, and that’s why you came. You knew I’d want to use you, and use you I will, like you’re an easy whore, faggot cum-dumpster.”

Despite his despicable words, I couldn’t withstand it, and my cock continued to grow. And with no way of hiding my telling display, I was irrevocably retaking my place. He was re-affirming his true alpha male status, with me as his pink pantied slave. This time around I had much more to lose, but still he was assuming command.

“You always were easy meat, and I can see you still are. You plainly enjoy being my little pink pansy. I’m going to use the crook on you later. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, fag whore? Opening your legs as it slides down inside the back your panties, willing it to hook into your ass. And when it does, I’ll clip it onto my trusty old winch so I can hoist you up, one click at a time, ‘till you can barely touch ground with your tip-toes. Then maybe I’ll give it a couple more clicks ‘till you’re dangling on the ass-hook like mealworm. I bet that’d enjoy that, eh, sissy bitch? You’ll be wriggling and squealing like a piglet.”

I don’t know why, but as he hissed his taunting, vile words, my cock kept relentlessly rising. My mind was in turmoil as I heard Kevin move and take a position behind me. His left arm came around in a firm bear-hug grip, locking my back to his chest. His right hand then mauled at my straining hard cock, which was shamefully tenting high in my panties.

“I’ve got you now bitch, haven’t I? This is how you‘re going to be at the party. Hamstrung and helpless and wearing pink panties as I make you fully aroused. I’m going to make a wager with that Debbie of yours that you love being humiliated and punished. And when I prove I’m right and this makes you horny, she’ll want a piece of you too. I know she’ll do it, ‘cos I’ll get her so high she won’t be able to resist. What do you think your stoned wife will do to you, Pinky, when I give her some toys to try out? Which one do you think she’ll use on you first? And when you squander your seed all over the carpet, what signal does that send, eh? She won’t want a wimp husband to make her pregnant. She’ll want a real man, and I’ll be there, ready and waiting. And when I’ve run her ragged, and she begs me to stop, don’t worry, I will. But there’ll still be the needs of my crew, and they will be next. Can you hear her pitiful pleas of anguish, Pinky, begging for her sex-nightmare to end? But I’m sure they’ll be able to extract a few more orgasms from her swollen, raw pussy as they all take their turn to rape her. Would you prefer to be blindfolded and just hear the action, or would you want to watch the whole show? She’ll be misused for hours but I’m sure she’ll enjoy it, except for possibly near the end. But who cares if her last few orgasms are a mixture of both pleasure and raw pain. It’ll make for some fine entertainment.”

Still holding my cock, now rock hard and throbbing, he breathed words which were both chilling and perceptive.

“You’re still hard, my little pink princess. I knew you’d be cuckold material.” he mocked as a deliberate taunt, working ever harder at my cock. “That means I can rob you of all your seed, Pinky. You won’t be needing it. Your precious wife has told me wants a baby, but it won’t be from your little weaner, not if there’s no fuel in the tank. You’ll have to let a real man step in to do the breeding for you, yes? And you haven’t got it in you to stop that happening, have you, my little pink puffcake, not now I’m back on the scene?”

I was stunned into silence, too dumbstruck to speak, as his fingers hooked the waistband of my panties. Pulling them down, my ankles were again lifted, leaving me waist-down buck naked.

“Are you ready for what’s coming, my sweet little princess?” Kevin continued his taunt. “Don’t worry, I’ll send you home shortly when we’ve both had our fun, and after you’ve spilt all your seed.”

With those ominous words, he positioned his hands, and they callously started their work. With one hand now pumping and the other gently kneading, it was only a matter of time. Relentless and ruthless, they stuck at their task, and I knew there’d be only one outcome. Caught in his trap and with no means of escape, I succumbed to a dark wave of acceptance. I shuddered and shook as he stroked me to climax, ejecting my precious white seed. But his hands kept on working despite my sad state, pumping ‘till I was limp, sore and dry. With one hand squeezing my now forlorn cock and his other still cupping my now empty scrotum, Kevin hissed his intent in my ear.

“Your wife’s off the pill and wants to get pregnant. Well, let me tell you, she soon will be, but the seed won’t be from your empty ball-sack. I’m gunna milk you every evening from now on, and you’d better not dare disobey me. It’s either that or a cock cage, which might take some explaining, so make sure you’re ready for my call. When you return to your wife after each evening with me, you’ll have been thoroughly milked ‘till you’re dry. Are we in agreement? Is that what you want? I expect you’ll say it’s OK.”

Still ensnared inside swathes of the upturned bell dress, and with his hand slowly increasing its painful squeeze on my now dangling balls, I resigned myself to my fate. The lacy blue fabric twitched my frantic nods of agreement, as my dry mouth whispered “OK”. I’d nodded to bring an end to the excruciating pain of his grip, but also in defeated acceptance. My virile, white seed was now his to control, and every evening would be wasted away. And with no potent seed I’d have no masculine value, and so nothing to offer my wife. Kevin was claiming all that was mine, and his status had made me back down. He’d muscled back in to steal my self-worth, and I just couldn’t bring myself to say “No!” When we were in college, everyone knew of his fearsome reputation, and when I’d been faced with his sick, twisted menace, I surrendered myself to him without hesitation. In everyday life I’d been a regular Joe, but with him I was a meek, servile wimp. I was still under his spell and he’d seized the advantage, knowing I was still his to command. And to firmly cement his Alpha status, he crushed me with a cruel recollection…

“I remember your face at college when you first saw my beast in all its rage and unrestrained glory. I could tell straight away you were spellbound with awe and wanted to be one of its victims. That’s why you brought your pink panties to the shower that day. You hoped you would tempt me to get close-up and personal. And tempt me you did, you dirty slut whore, and then came to my door like I ordered. You were supposed to be just a one-time thing, did you know that? Just another weak, sissy victim to add another notch to my bedpost. But, hey, who knew our ‘thing’ would go on for so long, and how deep our bond would become? Night after night you’d show up at my door, despite what you’d get once inside. I knew what you wanted the first time you let me push my tongue through your juicy, red lips and explore the depths of your mouth. I’ll freely admit, I was surprised when you started sucking on my tongue and moaning girly moans into my mouth. But I knew right there and right then, that same moaning mouth would open just as easy for my cock. And it did, didn’t it, my sweet, little puffcake, that same night, while you were kneeling at my feet in my dorm-room. But you came back for more, and then again more, until it seemed like you couldn’t keep away. That’s when I realised you were addicted. But it wasn’t just the power and majesty of my cock, was it, my poor little pansy, you came back for more of my seed? You’d enjoyed it that first time and wanted some more, and ended up being hopelessly addicted. And even after I realised it might be ****** or something in my system and I’d put a stop to your blow jobs, you kept on coming right back. Night after night you’d be tapping on my door, waiting ‘till I let you come in. Then I realized something else. I’d become something more to you, hadn’t I? You didn’t come to my room hoping to savour my juices. You came because you wanted to be with me …. spend time with me …. feel the weight of my body laid on yours. That’s why you allowed yourself to become my ass-fuck whore, isn’t it, you poor, little thing? I didn’t need your asshole as a cum-bucket, ‘cos I’d plenty other puppets on a string. But there you were, night after night, all pre-slicked and bending over like a bitch. And that’s why you’ve kept your precious pink panties, huh, ‘cos you’re still a little, sissy-bitch at heart? Well then, my sweet puff-cake, now married and all, your master has returned to take charge. From now on, you’ll answer only to me and do every single thing I goddam tell you. It’s for your own good, Pinky, ‘cos from what I’ve seen, apart from that sweet, sexy wife of yours, you’re wallowing in a lame, pathetic life. Well, just like in college, I’m gonna help you, Pinky. I’m gonna supercharge your dead-end existence by leaps and bounds. You didn’t think you’d aced your exams by yourself, did you, stupid boy? I’d pulled some puppet-stings for you, Pinky, ‘persuaded’ some teachers to doctor your grades to give you a flying start to your life. But you should be doing better than this, and it seems you need more of my help. It’s gonna come with some highs and lows, and there’s never any gain without pain. But you’ll end up in a better place, Pinky, with a much better life for you and that sweet wife of yours. And that is what you want, yes? Tell me I’m right and we’re on the same page. I’m sure you’re going to agree.”

When his hand gave my sore and tender balls an even harder squeeze, I nodded my head in acceptance.

………………….

“Oh, good, your back. Did you have a good time at rehearsals?” chirped Debs as I awkwardly shuffled back into my own home.

“No, not really,” I mumbled as I looked down at the floor.

“I’ve got something to cheer you up. Look at this.” as she flaunted a naughty, black negligee.

“When did you get that?” I asked with hidden dismay, realising where this would be going and trying to show some enthusiasm.

“I bought it today. Nice, huh? I bought it to coincide with ovulation.”

“Oh, great,” I enthused, camouflaging my unspoken “Oh, no!”

“Go grab a shower, hun. The film was, how shall I say, invigorating? Plus, you know how I get when I start ovulating. Tonight’s your night, babe. I need a man.”

With that, I slinked off to take a shower.

…..

“What’s the matter, hun. I hoped tonight would be special?” Debbie cooed in my ear, as my spent manhood lay limp under the bed-sheet.

I made lame excuses, as any man would, but Debs was in the mood for my love.

“Go down on me then. Please give me something. I need it, hun, please”.

She lifted the sheets like a silken, soft tent, and I slid myself down out of view. I worked her with fingers and rubbed with my thumb, but she stopped me just a few minutes in.

“I’m sorry, but that just ain’t doing it. Aren’t you going to use your delicious, hot tongue?” Debbie purred.

“I’m sorry too, hun,“ I answered. “I can’t seem to get into the mood.”

“Well, if you can’t summon the mood, I guess I’ll have to rain-check ‘till tomorrow. But I don’t wanna keep it on hold too long, babe. Ovulation only goes until Sunday.”

I shuffled myself out from under the tent and repeated my apology, which was rewarded with a lukewarm peck on the cheek. Debbie grumped an angry ‘huff’, and with a swirling of bed-sheets she snuggled down …. said ‘goodnight’ ….. and turned her back.

Before I’d left Kevin and whilst still in blonde wig, I’d been on my knees at his feet. With a click of his fingers and a point at the floor, I’d sunk down in total submission. As I knelt down before him I’d meekly complied as he’d made full use of my mouth. He then sent me home, unwashed and still tainted, instructing I go use my tongue.

“Go back to your wife and give her a good licking. You might just do my job for me.”

If his seed had survived, and with Debbie’s ripe eggs ….. It was a risk which didn’t bare thinking.

…………………….

THURSDAY

I came home from work knowing ‘he’ would have been. He wouldn’t miss out on his afternoon chat. Plus, he’d promised a ‘fitting’, with a costume he’d acquired a couple of years ago and which he assured me would look great on my wife.



“What did he bring for you to try on?” I asked, as Debbie marched in from the kitchen, still in a prickly humour. It seemed I was still out of favour, not having sated her pregnancy frustration.

“He brought a big box, if you really must know, containing a Little Bo Peep costume. It was light blue and frilly and looked really gorgeous and I fell in love with it straight away. He said if he helped me to put it on, just to make sure it was fitted correctly, then he guaranteed it would highlight my best features. It looked real cute and was gonna let him help me try it on, but he reminded me it was a reverse fancy dress and he’d brought the wrong box. Maybe some other time, he said, perhaps if I ever went round to his place. He took it away and came back with another box. I’m not supposed to tell you, but it was a full police-officer’s uniform.”

“Oh, really?” I exclaimed with genuine surprise, having not known what to expect.

“It’s very realistic, and comes with a hat, shoes and truncheon, and a pair of real, true-to-life handcuffs.”

“Did you try it all on while he was still here?” I asked, barely containing my angst at having heard the words ‘truncheon’ and ‘hand-cuffs.’

I studied her closely to check her reaction, recalling my traumatic Bo-Peep transformation.

“No, no. He held it up against me, and it looked about right, but I said I’d try it tonight. If my new negligee didn’t do it, then maybe being dressed as a cop can arrest your attention.”

“Yeah, sorry about last night. I just felt drained. I’ll definitely be ok tonight.”

“When you get back from Kevin’s?” she stated. “While we were chatting, Kevin said to remind you he’ll need you to pop round later this evening. He rattled off a load of technical stuff about equipment for filming the party. I had no idea what he was talking about, but he said you’d be a star if you could spare half an hour for the set up.”

My wife was oblivious to the connotations of the words she’d just spoken, but it certainly gave me a cold shiver.

“Was he was here for a while then?” I asked as calm as I could, sensing there was much more to be heard.

“Oh yeah, this afternoon we both laid out in the sun while he amused me with more of his stories.”

“What, you were sunbathing together?” I squawked, almost in a shriek, alarmed at their blossoming friendship.

“He said he was jealous of my all-over tan and wanted to share some of my rays. So he stripped off down to his jocks and joined me laid out in the sun. Don’t worry, Hun, nothing else happened, although he sure likes strutting his tats and big muscles. He told me more stories about him and his crew, and how he got caught out and arrested. It happened when they’d been asked to invade a wealthy mans’ home and steal some expensive jewellery. It was all part of an insurance scam, as the owner was desperate for cash. They were told the rich guy would feign some defence and to give him a light working over. But his wife was there too, and she was red smoking hot, and he couldn’t restrain his wild crew. They all took turns at her, which went on for hours, but Kevin said she was really enjoying the attention. But the trouble was, they stayed much longer than they’d planed, and about 2 a.m. their daughter came home from a date with her boyfriend. His crew were ecstatic to have some fresh meat, and it turned into a total disaster. The daughter had cameras installed in her bedroom, and they captured two hours of raw action. When him and his crew left about 4a.m. the cops were soon hot on their tail, and that’s how their five year spree of mischief and mayhem was abruptly brought to an end.”

“Mischief and mayhem?” I grimaced in echo. “Sounds like a sex nightmare to me.”

“Yeah, doesn’t it just,” she said with an unusual grin, before sauntering off to the kitchen.

……………..

After dinner and a shower, as sternly requested, again I trudged around to see Kevin.

“Welcome, my little pink princess. I hope you’re ready for round two.”

“Look, Kevin, I can’t do this. Please, just leave me alone.” I rasped, with my shoulders drooping, as I stood midpoint in his front room. He slowly walked round me, hands clasped at his back, symbolically hemming me in. He was like a cruel vulture making slow lazy circles as it callously weighed up its prey.

“I promised I would, but after the party. I thought I had made that clear. Obviously you need this message reinforced. You like being forced, don’t you, my little pink princess? If you were to strip naked, what do you think I’d force you to do?”

“Look, Kevin, it’s…..”

“No, you look!” he snapped me into silence, as he produced my own silky pink panties. He was twirling them round on his pointed-up finger, like a mocking and taunting pink flag.

“Time to undress for a bit more rehearsing, so the party can go with a swing.”

“No, Kevin, please don’t,” as his hand went to my trouser belt buckle.

“You know you won’t stop me. You won’t even try,” as he picked and pulled at the clasp. I was proving him right as I stood numbly still, too despondent to even react.

“That’s a good boy,” he cooed with foreboding, as he deftly pulled my trouser belt open. “You take it from here, it’s time for more fun,” as he again wielded my sacred pink panties.

I couldn’t believe I was allowing myself to be manipulated again. What was wrong with me? Still, my own fingers pulled down the zipper, and with my eyes cast down at the floor, I removed my trousers and lay them aside, and stood only in jacket, shirt and jocks.

“We don’t need these,” Kevin said coolly, as he wafted his hand at my chest.

My self-respect now gone, and with no further prompting, I stripped myself down to my jocks. I stood there before him awaiting my fate, as Kevin posed with both arms fixed folded.

“I see there’s no excitement in the air tonight,” as he looked at the flat front of my jocks. “We must do something about that,” as he held out an open palm hand. “Here, grab hold and come with me. There’s something I want you to see.”

With the natural reflex of an innocent child, I reached out and meekly placed my hand into his.

“That’s right, my little pink pansy, come along, come walk this way.”

So with those fateful words, and with him as my guide, he led me through in back of his house. With my hand still firmly in his grasp he then towed me through an open doorway and into what was obviously a bedroom. The sight before me stopped me dead in my tracks as I could hardly believe what I saw.

“Come on, you’ll enjoy this,” mocked Kevin as he hauled me fully into the room.

Laying spread eagle on a bed and tied wrist and ankle was a naked inflatable doll. Near the foot of the bed, standing upright and imposing, was a set of medieval-type stocks. Kevin pulled on our firmly clasped grip until I was standing behind the sturdy, wooden contraption, with its cross-beam aligned with my chest.

“No, please, Kevin, …” I started, assessing my peril, but he cut me off with growling words in my face.

“I said there was a bit more rehearsing, so you’ve got to try these for size …. Come on,” he changed his tone to a coxing coo, “Bend over, that’s a good boy,”

The top half of its heavy, notched, cross-beams was propped open with a stout, wooden stay, leaving the three cut-outs in the bottom half fully exposed and waiting to be filled by someone’s neck and two wrists.

“No, I can’t do..…”, I protested, but he yanked at my hair with his big, burly hand, pulling my head firmly backwards. As I grimaced in pain with an open mouth silent-scream, I saw a sudden flash of pink material which I guessed were my panties, and with my head restrained backwards and still open-mouthed, he stuffed them deep inside with his fingers.

“Like I said before, you might feel the need to squeal like a pig, and I don’t want to hear it.” Then using the chunk of my hair still firmly in his grasp, he steered my head forwards and downwards, until my neck was in the stock centre slot. His painful, firm grip held my neck down in place as he said, “Come on, you know what to do.” I instinctively set both my wrists into the smaller side slots, and after he’d let go of my hair I meekly remained in place as I blankly stared at the floor. I knew my fate was sealed when I felt the dull thud of the heavy top plank as it was dropped the last couple of inches into place. But what really got to me, and made me want to cry out aloud in despair, was the tink-click of a metal locking-latch sliding over.

“Well, well, well! What a pretty sight you make,” Kevin gloated, as he stepped back to admire his work. “I’ve got a good view, and you’ll have a good view, if you’re strong enough to keep your head held up high”.

I was constrained in such a way I was looking down at the floor, but if I awkwardly and achingly strained my neck and lifted my head, I could see the spread-tied doll on the bed.

“I said we need more rehearsals, so we can lose these,” as he deftly removed my jocks. ”Now, you’ll notice the doll on my bed is already naked and helpless, and she’s been waiting, patient and still, ‘til you’ve been confined out of reach. She’s called Debbie, just like your sweet wife, and she’s kindly stripped herself naked. I then told her she’d have to be tied, so she obediently laid out spread-eagle. And look, her pubes are clean shaven, because that’s what I ordered, and plainly she does what she’s told. But wait, there’s some black writing where her pubes used to be, like there’s some kind of specific instruction. You probably can’t read it from there even though its writ large, so let me tell you exact what it says. The letters I can see are in big, bold, black ink, and if I’m not mistaken they spell out ‘breed me’. I wonder how and why those words got there, ‘cos they certainly weren’t put there by me. That’s ‘cos this here bitch ain’t for breeding, and she don’t get horny and wet. But that’s how your sweet, sexy Debbie was when I called around this afternoon, Pinky. She was washing a sink full of dishes, and after she let me in and we started to chat, she went back to her splashing and sploshing. But when she’d turned her back, I crept up behind her and cuddled her tight as I caressed her neck with tender kisses. And there was no doubt she was horny, ‘cos even when I lovingly nibbled her ears, she made no attempt to try stop me. I recon I could’ve had her right then and right there, bent over your own kitchen table, and she would’ve let me do whatever I wanted. What do you think of that, my little pink princess, knowing I could’ve easy had your wife? But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, Pinky, ‘cos it would’ve been unfair on you, violating your wife on your own kitchen. Besides, I have no control over who comes and goes at your house. Imagine if you walked in unexpected …. what an ugly scene that would’ve been. No, best she comes here to me, Pinky, where she can feel safe and relaxed and be guaranteed of no interruptions. That’s why I was a bad boy and I told her a secret …. something both you and I already know. I told her I’d seen you naked in the shower back in college, and that my manhood is three times your size. And when I pushed hard proof up against her sweet ass, it was fun watching her neck flush a bright red. But do you know what was even better, Pinky? It was when her cute, little ass pushed me back. And now she’s fully aware of my beast, she’ll be just like you were in college, and want to know it close up and personnel. That’s why I know she’s gonna end up here like this doll, Pinky, because I’ve ignited her primal curiosity. It’s gonna gnaw at her soul until one hot and horny day, she succumbs to that same fateful curse which kills cat. She’ll come to my door on some lame, bogus pretext, probably seeking to borrow some random kitchen item or other. But we’ll both know what she’s come for as she invites herself in, all dolled up like some cheap, back-street hooker. We’ll flirt and we’ll tease and I’ll get her riled up, but then remind her she’s a loyal, married woman. I’ll say I know she’s intrigued and I’m prepared to put on a show …. but solo while she sits back and watches. I’ll promise to fully inflame my beast to demonstrate its dimension, but the only thing she may touch is herself, and mustn’t ever try to touch me. Do you think she’ll fall for it, Pinky? Masturbate herself in front of a convicted rapist, maybe even let him tie her spread eagle? I bet you’d like to see her fall into that little trap, eh, my sweet little puffcake …. Watch her defile herself as I stroke my big monster …. maybe allow me to tie her up. And you’d be right here, confined in these stock as you strain your neck to watch, with your panties in your mouth and unable to complain? But that’s never gonna happen either, Pinky, not if she’s there and you’re here, ‘cos her fate will be in the hands of my crew. I might tease her before they start, and maybe slide my monster in just once to coat it with her juices to made it all slippery, slimy wet. But that’s to make it easy for me to slide it into your ass …. What do you think to that, Pinky, using your wife’s juices as a lube for your ass, so my monster can slide all the way in? It’ll be your reward for letting my crew have your wife while you’re confined here and can only watch. That’s gotta be the hottest thing ever, right?”

I knew his vile words were almost certainly lies, although with Kevin I couldn’t be sure. But when he stopped talking and I gathered my senses, to my shame I was fully erect.

“What do we have we here, my cucky pink pansy? You seem to have liked what you heard.”

He walked round behind me and out of my view, and I knew not what to expect. Then an open flat hand claimed my right inner thigh, and started to slide slowly upwards. It continued its climb with unstoppable progress until it was pushing upwards between my legs, lifting me up onto my tip-toes. Then the thumb of this flat hand started probing at my sphincter, pushing hard until the thumb-tip had forced its way in. In my aroused state, this brazen lewd move served to seal my fate, ‘cos when his other hand grasped my hard and straining cock, my whole body convulsed as I bucked like a seesaw.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, having someone else taking control? But I don’t have your pleasure in mind now your ass and cock are all mine. I’m going to pump your poor little weaner ‘till your balls are all drained and you can’t perform for your wife. And when she sees you’re unable to rise to the occasion, I’ll expect that knock at my door. That’s why I keep ties laying wait on my bed. They’re all part of my personal service. And once she’s in place with no means of escape, I can breed her however I please.”

As he was speaking and working my cock, my climax was steadily building. With his wedgie flat hand holding me high up on tip-toe, and with the tip of his thumb jammed inside my ass, and my neck and wrists firmly locked into place, I couldn’t escape his harsh, callous pumping. But as his perverted mistreatment brought me closer to climax, I shamefully didn’t want him to stop.

Relentlessly he kept working my cock, whilst my legs were tensed and straight and fully outstretched as I held myself up on my tip-toes. Then, after I’d shamelessly spat jets of seed onto the carpet, Kevin kept on pumping, undeterred I was spent, maliciously inflicting hot pain. My pink panty gag distorted my pleas, and although I “MMMmmmMMed” as loud as I could, begging him to stop his cruel torture, he kept on pumping, ignoring my convulsions, until my cock was red raw like fire. I bucked and squirmed even harder to try and break free when he started squeezing hard on my spent and burning-hot manhood.

“You won’t be breeding your wife’s pussy tonight, not now I’ve emptied your tank.”

But it wasn’t my tank that would stop me this night. It was the red-raw hot sting from way too much harsh manipulation. He’d made sure my cock was now a limp roll of burning pain, and copulation was now out of the question. But he then praised my efforts and my worthy performance, and insisted I get my reward. He gently eased me from the confines of his horrible wooden contraption, then allowed me to take my time as I dropped to my knees. He then cautiously extracted my precious pink panties from my dry, aching mouth, before throwing them to one side, before promptly replacing those panties with his own engorged cock. His burly big hands held me firmly in place as he then took care of his own carnal needs. I’d have to ask Debs to take a rain-cheque again, because I didn’t want to take any chances.

My cock was too sore, my back and knees ached, and my tongue was a baby in waiting.

………………………………

When Debbie had told her doctor she was aching to have babies, the doc had prescribed some pills which were designed to enhance her ovulation. And in the last couple of months they’d been working only too well. Now, whenever she ovulates, it’s like she gets blinded by lust and becomes a crazy, crazed bitch on heat. She’ll blatantly and lewdly seduce me, desperate to get an injection of my man-seed for her fertile eggs. And now, with her meds and her psychological yearning for a baby, I know if I soon don’t service her primal yearn, she could fall prey to Kevin’s design. And if she caves in to his sordid intent, she’ll be sleepwalking into sex hell. She’ll be drawn into a dark, downward spiral, and end up in a sickening world where extreme, carnal abuse is not only the accepted norm, but is welcome and fully expected. I know, because my demons and spineless resolve have shown me that world, and it takes a Herculean effort to break free. And with his pendulous bait and ruthless deceit, Kevin is a master manipulator and recruiter. I’m terrified that if Debbie succumbs to his unscrupulous wile, she’s wind-up being one of his craven, pain-bitches. He’s always had a gift for finding latent dark fancies, and he lives to exploit those of weak will. And if she’s gets sucked into his world of heartless sex torment, then succumbs to each turn of his lecherous screw, she too will find it almost impossible to break free.

And it’s a world devoid of sane and safe limits, because the Kevin I know doesn’t have any.

………………………..

“You’re back at last. But in fact, just in time. How did things go round at Kevin’s?”

“We moved some furniture, and pulled things about, and everything now seems where he wants it.”

“Well I’ve had a long shower and resisted temptation, so it’s all systems-go for tonight.”

“Look, honey,” I said, sheepish and lame, “I really am done in. The furniture was heavy and we moved it non-stop and my whole body is aching all over, plus I think I’ve pulled a muscle in my back. Kevin said he was running out of time and acted like a ruthless slave-driver.”

Debbie clasped her hands like she was in prayer, and implored with her sexy blue eyes. “I’ve been saving myself and I neeeed some action. You’ve got to give me something tonight.”

“Ok, I’ll try, but you’ll have to be patient. I’ve had a hard and very exhausting evening.”

…...

Needless to say I couldn’t perform, thanks to my stinging and exacting ordeal. Debbie lay restless in her sexy, new nighty, annoyed that I’d rain-checked again. Then she suddenly and unexpectedly relaxed and became quite bubbly and chirpy, like her mood had changed in an instant.

“Tomorrow is Friday, my whole day off work, so I’m free to soak up some more rays. I can put on my bikini for when Kevin comes round, so we can bask side-by-side in the sun. I can ask him to scare me with more spine-tingling stories about his gang and their brutal invasions. He’s already told me they’d tie up the men, but not exactly what they’d do to the women. He’d said his whole gang were cruel and depraved, but I’ll say I want more of the details. But with a glass of red wine and the heat of the sun and his wicked, wild stories, I know I’ll get all sticky and hot. It’ll then be a drag to do all my chores, so I’ll ask Kevin to give me a hand. He’s such a good neighbour, I’m sure he’ll oblige, and do what needs to be done .…. I already know he likes washing the dishes and sploshing around in warm, sudsy water, because this afternoon while I was in the kitchen washing up in the sink, he tried to press me to give it a go. He came up behind me and plagued for a turn, but I thought it was best that I should resist him. But he was rather feisty with his joking and teasing, and I had a hard time pushing him away. He’s already told me that when he’s here next he’s gonna get his hands on my soapy wet sponge. You know I’m no match for his muscle-bound frame, and that he’s a take-charge kinda guy. So if he gets his fingers in my hot sudsy wash-tub, he’ll start splashing and sploshing and horsing around until it’s me who’s all sudsy and wet. And maybe, just maybe, with his slippery soap antics, my bikini might somehow slide off. And if his sploshing and splashing gets out of control, and somehow ends up like a white water rapid on our kitchen floor, my Hoover can suck it up again after.”

On ending her disturbing and lurid depiction, she dismissed me with a bitter “Goodnight!” I lay silent and still as I mulled over my options, drifting towards a welcome deep sleep. And just as its blankness was dissolving my problems, I felt the bed twitching in a steady, slow rhythm.

………………..

When I awoke that Friday morning, I really wanted to phone into my work and excuse myself from attendance. But you know how it is when the boss has a deadline, so I reluctantly dragged myself in.

…………………

And when that same Friday work ended an hour later than normal, I slinked home like a broken and lost little puppy. As I walked through the door, Debbie sprang up to greet me, and her prickliness seemed to have gone. She was quite sassy and saucy, with a glowing sparkle in her eyes, and gave me a lingering and warm, squishy hug. Despite her affection, I still felt dejected, and her words then further darkened my gloom.

“How was your day?” she chirped, but didn’t wait for an answer, as she kept chirping her chirpy little song. “Mine has been great, in fact quite fantastic, and I spent a lot more time out in the sun. This morning I did housework, then phoned up my Mom, then had a lovely brunch with my Friday TV soap. Then Kevin came round with 2 bottles of wine, and we both laid out in the sun.”

Despite her glow and the word ‘fantastic’, surprisingly I’d felt at ease inside my sullen mood. But when she uttered ‘two bottles of wine’, I slumped dejected into a consoling lounge-chair.

Debbie picked up on my obvious angst, and tried to soothe me with a soft and sweet tone.

“Honestly darling, we only sunbathed and chatted and nothing else happened, so hun, please don’t look so glum.”

“What did you end up talking about, then?” I asked, then added, under my breath, ‘And please don’t say about me.’

“We talked about all-sorts, but he sure likes talking about himself. He’s told me much more about his life behind bars, and the antics the inmates got up to. He said there were different classes, and he’d learned some new skills, and he’s put them to financial good use. He said he’d learnt wood-work from a top master-craftsman who’d taught him some interesting and useful trade-secrets. He said he loves designing stuff and he’s build some really fascinating contraptions. He said they were hard to describe, but he’s promised he’ll show me one day. He said there was also a guy who was into tattoos, and he’s learnt all about tatt-art and tattooing. He said most of his own tatts he’s done on himself, but he’s done lots of others on other people. He said he’s spent a small fortune getting all the best needles and ink-guns and pens ‘cos he likes to do everything well. He said a neat trick with an intricate design without a stencil is to use an indelible-ink sharpie to get it just right, and so it won’t wash off while he spends a few weeks needling it in. He seemed really excited as he explained it all, and he ducked back home and brought me a couple of his special ink markers and insisted I give them a try. I said it sounds like fun and I was glad to accept, and said I’d experiment later. He also brought a catalogue of designs for me to take a look, but I don’t think I’ll get a permanent tattoo. I could use one of his black-markers to draw a design I’ve had in mind for a while, though, so maybe I’ll give that a go later”.

I still felt too low to press for further details. The wine had obviously gone to her head, and she’d already been chattering away far too much, and I certainly didn’t want to hear another mention of the wine.

……………………………

We’d dined and washed up, and sat down to relax, and I told Debbie about me being Bo Peep at the party. I told her the truth about it being Kevin’s idea, because he had costumes from a previous ‘do’. I also told her I’d been asked to use make-up, and she said I was welcome to go ahead and use hers. She said I may as well look sissy and girly, because just lately I hadn’t been much of a man. I thought that was being a bit unfair, (or maybe not), and was about to offer some kind of defense when there was a sharp knock at the door.

“Hi, Kevin. I thought we’d done all we needed last night,” I said, as my heart sank, knowing what he was surely going to say.

“Just a bit more, and it won’t take too long. I need a hand moving a cupboard.”

I looked across at Debbie and she flicked her head sideways with the gesture of, “Go on, you’d better hop to it.”

So once more I was alone with my bullying neighbour, anxiously expecting the worst. As always, he stood close, tall and imposing, and as usual did all of the talking.

“I enjoyed being with your wife today, and she seemed to really enjoy having me. But it’s only fair I should repay the fun, so tonight the pleasure’s all yours. Just like the three little piggies in that stupid kid story, I’ll tell you how it’s gonna be. I’ll suck and I’ll suck, ‘till you’ve been fully blown down, then you can laugh as you gloat at my plight. If you fill my mouth with your manly white seed, I promise I’ll swallow every drop. What do you think to that, my naughty pink slave, knowing I want to swallow your seed?”

I knew his taunt was a tissue of lies, and his words were just an illusion. A cruel, sick mind-fuck before twisting it around into another of his degrading and sick games. And so it should prove as his arm reached down and his hand began rubbing at my crotch, which then fatefully started to stir. It was my downfall as he asserted his status, berating my wanton display. He exerted his stamp as he cut me to size with words which were steeped in contempt.

“Ah, so you do want to defile me, you cheap little whore. You want me submit to your will? Well so be it, and tonight I will give you your chance. But, my sweet pansy, it’s a one-time only, so you’d better pray that nothing goes wrong.”

Then with a cunning, dry smile he looked into my eyes as he sank to his knees at my feet.

My mind was in turmoil as I held onto his gaze, looked down at his menacing glare. Kevin then reached up and unbuckled my belt before pulling down my trousers and jocks. I lifted my feet as he eased my clothes free, then coolly tossed them aside. As I reset my stance, relieved that he was still kneeling, he reached up and placed his hands on each of my butt-cheeks. He then guided my crotch to a mere inch from his face, and licked his tongue the full width of his lips …….

I knew he was playing some sick, twisted game which was sure to end in my defilement. As I considered with dread what could be the outcome, my cock reverted to being droopy and flaccid.

“Just what I thought, my cucky, weak neighbour. I knew you were less than a man. Even less than a wimp, more like a girl with a penis, and you deserve what I’m gonna do next.”

And with that foreboding statement I froze in dark horror as he produced an inauspicious and daunting cock cage. His fingers worked deftly, determined and swift, as he encased my sad and limp weeny.

“I don’t want you seeding your fertile hot wife. That job is now down to my crew. It’s only when you come to my party, which is now guaranteed, that your little weenie will be freed from its cage.”

Then he stood upright and unbuckled his belt and slid down his own trousers and jocks. He put one hand on top of my head whilst the other made a snap with his fingers. I gulped in despair as I then took my place, on my knees at the feet of my master.



………………….

When I got home, Debbie was already in bed, and from the afternoon wine seemed to be in deep sleep. I glanced at the clock and saw it was way after midnight, and was glad she’d given up waiting. There was no possible way I could’ve explained my cage, and her slumber let me off a barbed hook.

…………………..

SATURDAY

As the morning light filtered through the drapes I was thankful it was Saturday and not a work-day. I gently eased out of bed without disturbing a still sleeping Debbie, desperate not to let her see my encasement. I then managed to avoid her until we were fully dressed and ready to go do our usual Saturday morning trip to the mall.

Following Debbie’s lead, we trudged from one baby boutique to the next, until eventually, finally, we purchased several bags of groceries and a take-out before making our way back to our home. But no sooner had we staggered in through the front door with the shopping when I had to turn around to answer the knocking.

“Hi, Kevin, I didn’t expect to see you. What is it you’re after?”

“I’m sorry to be a pain,” he said with wry humour, “but I’d like to borrow your wife. It’s just for a mo, I won’t keep her long, but I’d like her female opinion.”

So I was alone with the aroma of take-out filling the kitchen as I anxiously paced, knowing Kevin had Debbie inside his home. But I was greatly relieved when soon she returned, and seemed in a very good humour.

“Kevin has shown me around his nice home, and what he has planned for the party. I didn’t know you’d set up a stage, equipped with strobe lights and big mirrors. He said they were props for an erotic side-show and a hired stripper, but he was annoyed that she’s had to back out. He said the job paid exceedingly well, and could I please, please help him get out of his dilemma. I don’t know why, but I’ve agreed to fill in. I know I shouldn’t have accepted, but he offered this bundle of cash.”

And with that incredulous statement, she showed me the contents of a big, brown-paper bag which was half-full of scrunched up 20’s and 50’s.

I was fully stunned that Debbie had agreed to be the party-girl stripper, despite the exorbitant inducement. She then shocked me by stating she could sure use the money, and I countered with, “I thought I gave you enough”.

But I was horrified when her eyes glazed over and she stared off into a vacant, middle distance and breathed “But Kevin’s got more …. much, much more”.

She then suddenly snapped out of her impromptu muse, and said not to worry because under her cop costume she’d have her bikini, and she wouldn’t be taking it off. But I knew which bikini, because she only had one, and it was skimpy and held together with string.

She then proceeded to explain that Kevin’s crew were expecting to have a stripper, and he was anxious not to lose face. She said he almost begged her to do it, and said he’d didn’t mind if it was a bit tame, like a modest and old fashioned peep-show. She said he’d then grabbed her by the shoulders and exclaimed, (and I give an almost verbatim quote) … :-

“Yes, that’s it, that’s it. The key to having a good show is knowing how to promote it ….. say ‘Welcome, gents, welcome, roll up for the show, my very own tame little Peep Show’”.

Then he’d told her the guests would be happy if she just stripped down her bikini, and perhaps give them a tame little peep as the grand finale. He’d said she’d be quite safe if she was only a tease, and did nothing outrageous to taunt them. But she said Kevin had warned her his crew would go wild if they were provoked, and that if they started to heckle, then just to ignore them and don’t do anything to try to out-dare them. He’d said if she just stripped down to her skimpy bikini and perhaps offer them a tame little peep, everything would work out just fine. She said he’d stressed that if she got too daring and provocative his crew might get inflamed, and he’d already told her lurid and graphic stories about the despicable things they’d do to any hot women who unwittingly fell into their hands.

…………………..

We started to get ready, and after my shower I put on a bathrobe and furtively sneaked back to our bedroom. Debbie then went off to take her shower while I reluctantly dressed as Bo Peep. I had to get my costume out of its box, but Debbie’s was already laid out on the bed in precise order. Her police uniform was there, along with its hat and truncheon, and the handcuffs and a small set keys. Then laying adjacent and neatly set out was her delicate, dainty string bikini. I thought I was crazy, but I had to look twice when I saw something odd with the strings. On closer inspection they’d surely been extended ‘cos they seemed much longer than before. I then was distracted by the loud roar of engines, the same thunder I’d heard all afternoon. I looked out the window to check on the rumble, and was suddenly struck numbly frozen. I almost choked at the sight in our street, which now contained a truly extraordinary accumulation. Our tree-lined backwater in sleepy suburbia was now a sea of parked-up chrome Harleys. I started to count, but my brain turned to mush when the number got up around twenty. I shook myself free from my mesmerised stupor to finish my Bo Peep transformation. After I’d finished getting dressed up, and with my clandestine cage safely hidden under swathes of frilly bell-dress, I needed to put on some make-up. I’d been told to compliment my curly blonde wig with ruby red lips and blue eye-shadow. I went to get Debbie’s bag of make-up which she keeps in the bathroom, and happened to walk in as she was stepping out from the shower. I hadn’t seen her naked for a couple of weeks, and when she flashed me full-frontal I was shocked when my prying eyes zoomed in. She’d always kept a neatly trimmed bush, which she said was her sweet, sacred garden, and despite my occasional timid requests, she’d always kept it quite lush, insisting it ensured her decorum. But her well-tended pasture was now bare, smooth and white, and apparently being used as a billboard. Two words were written clearly in thick black-ink pen, in lieu of her now clean-shaven pubes. And if those words were revealed as her striptease finale, there’s no telling at what deeds may then happen. That carte-blanche notation, written bold, black and neat, would surely invite persecution. And to my dark shame as I read the in***********ion, I felt a stir in my cage. Our eyes met for the briefest of moments, but we exchanged not one single word. She swished a towel around her and raced back to the bedroom, as I stood frozen in dumbfounded confusion. Were those words intended for me, and having seen them, should I now quickly go follow? But my clandestine confinement killed off the option, so I started applying my make-up. By the time I’d finished and went back to the bedroom, Debbie was all dressed and looked like a police-woman. She looked at me coolly, straight eye to eye, and said, “Well, I think I’m just about ready.”

I looked her straight back and said in a hoarse whisper, “Yes, I think I am too.”

What else could I say?

As we headed off towards our front door, her pubic notice was swirling around my brain.

My wife was about to strip down to a skimpy, long-string bikini in front of Kevin and his gang of wild bikers. And if those two words ever came into their view ………

And as my dumbfounded haze began to clear, it clicked where I’d heard them spoken before. It’s what Kevin had said SHOULD have be written on the bald sex of the doll he had tied in his bedroom.

But then I shamefully recalled several years prior when I’d also heard those very same words. It’s what Kevin had cruelly forced me to say, one night when we were way back in college.

And now they’re emblazoned as bold as could be, in black pen on the sex of my wife.

Had she also, somehow, been forced to comply, or had she deliberately placed herself in grave peril?

I wasn’t sure, but one thing was clear. She was using the exact same two words which had sealed my fate, one night when I was with Kevin in college …. and tonight could end the same way.

I closed my eyes and shuddered with goose-bumps as I recalled the vision of seeing my wife stepping out of the shower with those two little words written in large, bold, black letters on her white and clean-shaven sex.



I re-read the words …...

RAPE ME

___________________

THE REALIZATION AND REVELATION

We locked our front door behind us, and when Debbie, now dressed as a police-woman with her skimpy, long-string bikini underneath, and myself, now dressed as Bo Peep in wig and full make-up, reached the entrance to Kevin’s driveway, I had a sudden rush of blood to my head. I grabbed the sleeve of her costume, causing her to stop in her tracks, and we stood square eye-to-eye as I spoke :-

“I saw what you’ve got written on …. you know …. down there ….. and I think this whole set-up is too risky.”

“Why, what are you worried about?” Debbie replied, like she hadn’t a care in the world.

“It’s because I love you and I’m not sure I trust Kevin …. I don’t want anything bad to happen, so I think we just ought to go home.”

“And what exactly do you think might happen?” Debbie asked, almost as a taunt, and definitely in a challenging, abrasive tone I’d never heard her use before.

“Well, you know, down there, what you’ve got written. It might be that …..” I stated, it being obvious what I meant.

“So?” Debbie snapped back, as she twitched her sleeve to pull the fabric free from my grasp. “It doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“Why, what do you mean…’So’ ? What are you talking about?” I asked, unnerved by her stark tone and unsure where this was going.

“I’m saying, it’s a bit late.” Debbie said, still cool and off hand.

“It’s never too late. I still don’t know what you mean.”

“You want me to spell it out? …. That jobs been done.” declared Debbie, like she didn’t care.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying? That you’ve been ….?” I asked, panicking now, but also flinching from a short, sharp jolt inside my cock-cage when Debbie cut my question short with slight but definite nods of her head.

“When?” I added in a croak.

“About six months ago.”

“Excuse me?” I blurted, incredulous, as she affirmed her catastrophic revelation with definitive timing, but which had also caused another sharp jab inside my cage. “Where? …. How?”

“That time I stayed over at Angie’s …. I had too many margaritas,” Debbie admitted straight out without emotion.

“And it was ….. like …. he forced you, right?”

Unnervingly, Debbie just shrugged her shoulders.

“Who was it? Did you report it? Why didn’t you tell me?” I spilt out.

“And then what? You write a stern letter?” she scoffed, as I winced at her hurtful, low blow.

“But you did report it?” I asked, still shocked and incredulous.

“Nope,” Debbie answered, nonchalant, like it didn’t seem to matter.

“Why not? Did you know the guy?”

“I didn’t at the time, no, not really.”

“What do you mean, at the time not really?” not understanding where all this was coming from.

“Angie knew him, and she’d told me all about him …. but I didn’t believe ….. expect …..” her words trailing away as she seemed to become distracted and wistful.

“But he did force you, though, right?”

Again, to my consternation, Debbie just shrugged her shoulders, as I recalled her ‘stay over’ at Angie’s had been for four nights.

I took a deep breath to steel my emotions before I asked the next question, having realised what her shrug may have actually meant :-



“And have you seen him since …. I mean, has he ….. you ……? “ I started, but trailed away. She knew what I was asking.

“Not since that weekend, no ….. he’s been away … was back in jail,” Debbie said.

“Oh,” was my blank response, but then realised the connotations of her wording, and added, “But he’s out now, yes?”

“Yes,” she admitted flatly.

“And do you know where he is, what he’s doing?” I asked, as I simultaneously realised that the couple of sharp jolt inside my cock-cage had morphed into an overarching, painful ache.

“If you want to know the truth ….. even you do,” she stated, and despite this cryptic new information, I still hadn’t grasped the handle of this monumental riddle she was unveiling.

“How would I know where he is? ….. Do I know him?” The riddle now starting to fry scars of my brain.

“That time at Angie’s, after he’d …. we ….. you know … afterwards ….. we got talking, and …..”

“You talked?” now realising they were more comfortable together than I’d first assumed.

“Well, yeah,” she stated, as if it was obvious they would’ve had a conversation ‘after’.

“Go on,” I conceded.

“Well, we got talking, and, you know, certain things fell into place.”

“And you see him now? …. You’ve got together?” I asked, the dull ache inside my cock-cage becoming decidedly painful.

Debbie gazed deep into my eyes for several long seconds …. analysing ….. scrutinizing …. then took a deep, long breath before she spoke, “Not long after he got out, next door came up for rent, so I rang him …. and he went and got it and moved in.”

“Oh my God,” I blurted out loud, mainly at myself in shocked realization, “And he’s been calling round to see you every day …. so has he … have you….?” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.

“Every afternoon this week …. and most of yesterday morning,” she said straight out.

“Oh, jeez,” I squawked, as I flung my arms and turned away so as not to face her, assuming everything I thought solid was now lost. But within a millisecond of hearing this new information I’d already started to join the dots, and some really weird coincidences were now starting to make sense. But that didn’t explain the excruciating pain inside my cock-cage, which was almost bringing tears to my eyes. I then turned back around to face her …. reassuring myself she was still in one piece and seemed unharmed.

“But it wasn’t, you know ……? He didn’t force you or hurt you?” I had to ask.

“What do you care, you weren’t there,” she threw back, then took a few heavy, deep breaths before adding, “You know what he’s like …. take a shot.”

“But we can put this behind us, right here and right now …... lets turn around and go home …. start anew.” I offered, my inappropriate pain slightly abating.

She again stared into my soul for an unnervingly long moment, then hammered another cuckold nail into my coffin :-

“He called his crew in special, you know, to celebrate his homecoming …. give them a treat …. and that treat, my dear hubby, is gonna be me.”

Her eyes then flared a defiant flare …. then continued to stare me down. I felt myself take a deep, reflex gulp under her oppressive gaze, and after several long, tense seconds, and as the word, “But ….. “ was weakly coming out of my mouth, she added :-

“ …. and you too, if you want ……….. So are you coming with me or what?”

She then turned on her heel and strode up the long driveway ….. and not once did she stop to glance back.



……

When she reached Kevin’s doorstep with me five steps behind, I called her name and she spun around to face me with a, “What?”

“But your ovulation …. I mean …. I don’t want …… “

“Oh, yeah, about that,” she acknowledged, as she started fishing with her fingers inside her uniform’s top pocket, then producing a little key dangling from a dainty little chain, “That’s not really your problem now, is it?” she proclaimed, before returning my liberation into her pocket.

She then turned to face the door and jabbed her finger into the bell-push ….

……. which caused me agony in oh, so many sweet ways …….

/////////////////////////

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