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”.
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