Journal Extracts Ch. 18

WEDNESDAY, JULY 22, 2009.

Tonight's council meeting will be the first I've attended wearing knickers, stockings and suspenders. There's no way I can avoid wearing them because Max said he intends to check and woe betide me if he finds I'm not. I've donned a pair of trousers which are hopefully loose enough not to reveal the suspenders beneath, and long socks to conceal my stockings.

LATER.

Well the meeting certainly proved to be a nerve-racking affair. To start with I was met at the entrance of the community centre by Max who took me round the side of the building and ordered me to drop my trousers so he could check that I wasn't wearing the proscribed underpants. Hoping no one else would appear I lowered my trousers, revealing the pink knickers and stocking tops. Max's triumphant laugh rang out and I begged him to be quiet, someone might wonder what the noise was and come to investigate.

"I don't have a problem with that," he grinned. "You're the one wearing women's underwear. I don't care if the world knows your wife's my mistress and prefers my bed to yours."

Throughout the meeting I had to tolerate his smirking face opposite but at least my slight tan went unnoticed, unlike his much deeper one. My service at the hotel had kept me out of the sun quite a lot which was fortunate as it might have proved difficult to explain the coincidence if we'd both turned up with similar tans.

The meeting over I was glad to escape but the nerve-racking evening wasn't over yet. As we left Max said in a voice which was none to quiet, "I must hurry home, your wife will be waiting impatiently in my bed."

Again I looked about nervously but fortunately I don't think there was anyone close enough to overhear.

Seeing my nervousness Max hissed, "Perhaps I ought to call a couple of our fellow Councillors over and tell them how much your wife likes my cock."

"No, no," I begged in a whisper.

"Well never forget you're in my power," Max gloated, and went on his way laughing jubilantly.

FRIDAY, JULY 24, 2009.

I drove to Max's flat after work to find out when Marie would be returning, both to our house and the office, as I haven't seen her since the holiday.

"What do you want?" Max asked brusquely on answering the door.

I explained the reason for my unsolicited visit and he ushered me inside where I was ordered to drop my trousers. Unfortunately, in my haste I'd forgotten I was wearing normal underpants, having secretly bought some to wear whenever I was away from Max.

"What, disobeying my orders!" Max snapped, when I reluctantly lowered my trousers.

Telling me to remove the offending underpants Max ordered me to bend over a chair back, unbuckling his belt and removing it to leave me in no doubt as to his intention.

I hesitated and to my annoyance it was Marie who snapped, "Come on do as Max says, don't forget he's your master."

"Well said," commented Max. "Once I've taught the wimp his place he can clean the flat while we go for a meal. Take some money from his wallet, he can pay for it."

While he lashed my buttocks with his belt Marie went to freshen up but no doubt heard my howls of pain and frustration. It is so galling having no choice but to submit to the hateful Max.

Once they'd gone I settled down to my cleaning chores, naked having been ordered to strip whereupon Max locked my clothes in a cupboard. Doing his bedroom was the worst, seeing the nude photos of my wife adorning the walls and bedside cabinets and knowing she's been sharing his bed ever since our return from Lesbos.

When they returned I was reading the paper.

"Taking it easy Perkins, I hope you've done a good job of the cleaning," Max said, adopting the tone he used in Lesbos.

Running her finger along a shelf, Marie said, "He's not done a very good job of dusting."

"I haven't done in here yet," I snapped back peevishly.

"Don't talk to the lady like that. Who do you think you are? Apologise," Max admonished.

"Sorry," I muttered through gritted teeth "Teach John another lesson darling but don't be long. I'll go and get undressed."

This time it was to be a spanking over his lap and as I reluctantly took up the position Max told me I was lucky, he'd only give me six or seven as Marie would be waiting impatiently for him.

"Your wife's addicted to cock and wants fucking constantly. Lucky me," Max commented before spanking my already sore buttocks.

"When you've finished cleaning this room you can piss off home."

Well I was in no hurry to go and took my time with the cleaning. If the truth was known I was actually enjoying the sounds of passionate lovemaking emanating from the next room, despite feelings of loathing for the guy giving my wife so much pleasure.

Anyway by the time it had gone quiet I'd finished and was about to leave when a very hot and sweaty looking Max reappeared.

"What, still here Perkins! You're a slow worker."

Mumbling that I was just leaving I headed for the door.

"Wait, there's something I forgot to tell you. First kneel at my feet," Max said.

Reluctantly I took up the subservient position, Max standing legs apart, hands on hips grinning down at me.

"From Monday your wife will be working for me so you'll need to employ someone else as general dogsbody. You'll have to pay more than the peanuts you've been giving her."

"Now hang on a minute," I protested. "It's a family business and Marie has always been happy to help out."

"Tough. She fancies something more exciting."

"Doing what?"

"Marie is going to be my PA," Max told me.

"What's that entail?" I asked sceptically.

"It will be a varied role filling in where needed, such as reception. I hardly need tell you Marie looks very fetching in her short-skirted dark suit. I frequently get asked about the red light district by businessmen looking for a bit of fun away from home so she'll be able to make some money by opening her legs for them, which is after all your wife's favourite activity."

Brushing aside my protests Max said, "You need reminding of your position. Take my cock in your mouth."

I had no choice but to do as he said, feeling belittled by the guy towering over me.

"Can you taste your wife's cunt on my cock?"

I just nodded my mouth full of penis.

"Clear off now you ridiculous little man," Max said pulling his penis from my mouth and dismissing me with a wave of his hand.

"As you've made me hard I shall have to go and fuck your wife again. Lock the door on your way out."

FRIDAY, AUGUST 7, 2009.

On arrival at the hotel I found Marie behind the desk in reception. I carried on through and up the main staircase to room fifteen where I knocked on the door as per instruction. Entering when a voice bade me to I found a large burly guy with a pugnacious face, reclining on the bed in nothing but his underpants, the odious Max sitting nearby.

"This is Marie's wimp of a husband and mine to command," Max grinned, introducing me to the large guy on the bed.

He turned out to be the Head Chef and while I was pondering what was going on Marie burst into the room. The Head Chef, alighting from the bed with surprising speed for one of his size, greeted her with a kiss before saying, "You're a lucky girl to possess such a compliant husband."

Smiling at me he patted my wife's bottom and I didn't miss the eager way she slipped a hand inside his underpants. I smiled grimly back, thinking I was far from being the compliant husband at the beginning or now, having no choice but to sit back and tolerate my wife's affairs; only reluctantly admitting to myself a developing predilection for voyeurism, coupled with a hitherto unknown masochistic streak. Marie on the other hand had grown into her promiscuous lifestyle with ease.

When Max put some music on Marie began a slow and sensual dance, the Head Chef returning to his position on the bed to watch. Marie slowly peeled her clothes off as she danced, continuing to move very seductively to the music.

I've rarely seen my wife in tan coloured stockings, Marie favouring black, but she wore them today as part of her work wear of dark suit over white top, the outfit a particularly arousing one.

Down to her underwear of black bra, black knickers with lacy white trim and matching suspender belt with the aforementioned tan stockings, my wife danced sensually across the room to Max. After kissing him she spun round inviting him to remove her bra.

"Glad to oblige," he grinned at me while effortlessly removing my wife's bra. "Long time since you've done that, I bet."

Marie leaned back against Max, enjoying the feel of his hands on her breasts, the Head Chef watching intently.

"I think Barry ought to have the privilege of taking your wife's knickers off as he's the one who will be fucking her," Max told me.

In response Marie danced her way across to the bed and catching the big man by surprise yanked the underpants down his thighs.

"Hmm, lovely," she murmured, bending to kiss the tip of his erection.

Straightening up she stood beside the bed smiling at the guy while he in turn yanked her knickers down. Marie completed the task of their removal herself before continuing her very sensual dance, but now clad in only the sexy tan stockings and suspender belt.

"Perkins, take Barry's underpants all the way off for him but mind you don't block his view of the stripper," Max ordered.

Both men laughed as I automatically carried out the demeaning task while trying not to loose sight of Marie's sexy dance.

"Your wife's a natural born stripper," Max commented when I rejoined him by the door.

Marie certainly displayed remarkable aptitude for her role and I imagine we were all erect as we watched. At least I know I was and of course the Head Chef's excited state was plain to see. In fact Marie could hardly take her eyes off the guy's rather fat erection as she continued her erotic dance. Her body was turning now, rotating in the same place, but with hips swaying sensuously. At the foot of the bed then, facing Barry my wife was thrusting her pelvis and simulating intercourse "I thought I'd give you a treat by letting you watch your wife's striptease routine. I can enjoy it anytime," Max boasted.

It was indeed a very sexy and erotic dance, the sight of my wife's lithe and lissom body really turned me on and I automatically rubbed the front of my trousers, much to Max's amusement.

Switching the music off abruptly Marie leaned over to run her tongue round the tip of the Head Chef's penis, his hand quickly delving between her thighs. I groaned and Max laughed as we watched, me with a morbid compulsion to miss nothing, as my wife licked and sucked Barry's balls before taking his penis deep into her mouth. Marie's bottom wriggled sensuously as he fingered her.

Suddenly the Head Chef tumbled her on to the bed where she lay back spreading her legs eagerly. Max propelled me to the foot of it where we both stared at my wife's very wet looking vulva.

"Lots of guys have been in there, eh Perkins?"

I groaned but compulsively freed my erection. Despite seeing the look of contempt on Barry's face I masturbated frantically while from the side of the bed he again presented his penis to her lips.

"That's right toss yourself off Perkins and always remember that the cunt your looking at and lusting after is mine for the asking," Max taunted.

I knew Barry was still watching me, the same contemptuous smile on his face, but continued to masturbate while watching Marie sucking his penis.

"What a prat," the Head Chef jeered when I came in my hand. "Just standing there wanking off while your wife sucks another guys cock." "Too right, he's pathetic isn't he?" "Yea pathetic is the word, the wimp's a pathetic little prick."

"Good description Barry. Drop your trousers and show him what you wear underneath Perkins,"

"Must I?"

Of course it was a pointless appeal, Max merely telling me to get on with it and not quibble. With great reluctance, imagining Barry's response, I slowly undid and lowered my trousers. As anticipated the Head Chef roared with laughter when he saw the pale blue knickers, stockings and suspenders concealed beneath them.

"See what a sissy boy he is," Max jeered.

"But you make me wear them," I protested.

"Stop complaining and strip to your undies Perkins, I've got a bra and high heels for you to wear."

Undressing down to the knickers, stockings and suspenders I then had to don the bra and high heeled shoes Max produced before being told to stand in the corner.

"You can watch real men giving your wife what she needs."

Max, already shedding his clothes when Barry buried his face between Marie's thighs, quickly presented his penis to her lips.

"After he's fucked your wife," Max told me, "Barry's going to have your little panties down and leather your backside. While he's doing that you'll be able to hear Marie's happy shouts as I give her what for."

With her legs flung wide and Barry's tongue doing its work between them Marie was in her element, her squeals of joy muffled by Max's penis in her mouth. However she removed it to give vent to her pleasure when Barry brought her to a very noisy orgasm.

"You were right, she does like a finger up her bum hole," Barry said to Max, raising a couple of digits.

"Your wife likes a cock up there as well doesn't she Perkins?" Max leered at me. "I've bum fucked the tart more than a dozen times. Of course the wimp never has Barry but you'll be able to spread her arse cheeks and drill her tight little hole whenever you want."

My wife seemed surprisingly unconcerned by Max's derogatory description of her as a slut they could do as they wanted with, merely shouting her joy when the Head Chef heaved his bulk on to her. The shout was repeated, louder and wilder, when the big man's penis drove into her.

"A very familiar sight, eh Perkins?" Max jeered as we watched Barry's buttocks humping up and down between my wife's thighs, Marie's ecstatic cries continuing to ring out with every thrust of his big fat penis into her.

A little later I had no choice but to drape myself over Barry's knee while Max joined Marie on the bed. Initially they lay side by side watching as the Head Chef, having pulled my lacy panties down, began spanking me. Next I found out why the broad bladed spatula was in the room when he began beating my already stinging bottom with it.

"That's right Barry, show the wimp no mercy," Max shouted his encouragement. "Has for you Perkins, when Barry's finished you can fuck off home. Come back to the hotel about midday tomorrow, you're going to clean the cellars for me. Now I'm going to drill your pretty little wife's cunt with my cock again while Barry whacks your arse."

While Marie's cries of joy rang out the Head Chef continued to beat my buttocks with his spatula, a particularly painful implement and one I hope I won't have to face again.

SATURDAY, AUGUST 8, 2009.

The first event of a humiliating day occurred when I arrived at the hotel and found a girl on reception I haven't seen before. I explained that I was due to meet the General Manager, Max having briefed me about always using his full title, and she rang his office.

"The cleaners here to do the cellar, Mr Bayes," she spoke into it, and I inwardly cringed at her description of me.

Max soon appeared with Marie in tow and led the way to the cellars. I followed them down the winding stones steps and through a cellar which was in use and relatively clean and tidy. After that it was all downhill though. Beyond a steel door the extensive cellars, linked by passageways, were dusty and litter strewn with either bare brick and stonework, or paint peeling from the walls.

"Right Perkins, I want this place cleaned up. While giving your wife a tour of the hotel I brought her down to the cellars and she likes the idea of sex sessions in here. First though, it needs a good clean so strip to your undies and get started."

I just stripped off, there was no point in arguing, but felt alarmed to see Max collecting my clothes to take them away.

"Don't worry," he grinned. "I'll lock the door so no one will see you in your feminine undies."

With that they'd gone leaving me standing there a little bemused, clad in stockings and suspenders, pink knickers and bra. At least I had flat shoes on rather than the high heels Max frequently makes me wear.

It was a long and dirty job cleaning the passages and rooms leading off them, but eventually I'd finished. Locked in though I had to wait for Max to let me out and sat on a wooden crate as the time went slowly by. I say slowly but had no real idea of the time, Max having taken my watch. With no toilet facilities in the cellars and no means of escape I had no choice but to relieve myself occasionally in an old battered tin bucket.

By the time I heard the key turning in the lock I was bored and hungry. The steel door swung open with an eerie groan and they came in.

"Look at the state of him, he's filthy!" Marie exclaimed.

"Good job we didn't do the cleaning ourselves," Max replied and they laughed. "What's that?" he pointed to the bucket of urine.

After I explained the need to relieve myself a couple of times, Max said, "Goes to prove you didn't move this slab while cleaning."

He moved it aside to reveal a drain and told me to kneel over it. Picking the bucket up he'd tipped the contents over my head before I realised what was going on. The urine ran down my face and body before gurgling down the drain. I shivered with revulsion and Max said, "Gone cold as it. You need warming up with some fresh stuff."

So saying he unzipped and produced his penis.

Well of course I knew what was coming but did nothing to evade the stream of urine which Max directed at me. Marie was laughing excitedly while her lovers pee ran down my face and chest. At least it was warm this time but I felt totally degraded and humiliated by the detestable guy as she egged him on. The stream abating, Max forced his penis into my mouth and the final drops of urine trickled down my throat while he laughed triumphantly.

They were gone, leaving me to wash the bucket out and hose the stone floor down using the short length of hose pipe attached to a tap on the wall. I hosed myself down in the process but then had to wait until my body dried before dressing, having nothing to dry myself with.

Back in reception I told the receptionist, a different one by this time, that I'd cleaned the cellars and was going, dreading bumping into Max and seeing his gloating and hateful face. However, the receptionist told me she'd been instructed to send me to the general manager's office where I'd be paid. Following her directions I found myself outside Max's office and knocked on the door, knowing he'd expect it.

"Who is it?"

"Perkins," I replied, also knowing he'd expect me to use his own mode of address for me. "The receptionist said you wanted to see me before I left."

"Come," his voice called and I entered the office.

Max sat at his desk with my wife perched on his lap, casually stroking her thighs.

"Strand in the corner," he barked and I duly did so.

"Did the receptionist tell you what I wanted you for Perkins?"

"To be paid," I told him sceptically.

"That's right. Drop your trousers and bend over my desk, the payment's a caning."

Marie laughed at my downcast expression but I did as Max said.

"I think we'd better muffle his screams, don't want to disturb the guests," Max said.

He quickly slipped out of his trousers and to my horror forced his underpants into my mouth as a gag, securing them in place with my own tie.

They stood back to admire his handiwork, both laughing at what must have been my strained expression of disgust to have odious creatures underpants forced into my mouth.

"Six of the best, I think," Max picked up the cane.