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.”
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