Made A Man(In And)Out Of Me Ch. 02byCicero6©
Well, it had been three days since the party and I still felt like I’d been ridden hard and put away wet. Monday came and went and thankfully Kelly had not mentioned anything about the party. By Wednesday, however, I received a phone call from her at work.
“Sweetie, I am wondering if you’re planning on doing anything this weekend,” she asked.
I thought for a second before asking why.
“A girl in accounting is having a bridal shower and I have been invited. Are you up for staying busy Saturday?”
“Oh, no problem,” I replied.
We chatted a bit before hanging up and then I wondered exactly how I could keep busy. In my mind, there was no way to gracefully reprise my role at her bosses house but my imagination did try. Whenever I recall being ordered to my knees, I cannot help but revisit the entire scene of being used and spent upon. My cock has been unusually rigid in reminiscing my evening as a slut and doesn’t have the patience as before; I have been coming almost uncontrollably.
The weekend had soon arrived yet Kelly had not ran with the sexual momentum of the previous week. There was a strapped dildo somewhere in her closet and I hadn’t the nerve to ask about it. It was Saturday evening and I was hell bent on finding and using the toy on myself - with or without Kelly. Now she had finally left for the evening.
The house was silent and I began my search. I picked through her most private items but came up empty. My desperation was becoming intense as I fumbled through her closet for the missing necessity. I was soon without pants and clutching my dick in depraved desperation. This hampered the quest but not my resolve. A satin pair of panties fell from her top drawer and I stopped to watch them drape over my foot. I picked the item up and brought it to my nose. The clean crotch was devoid of her sweet odor but still maintained the citrus of her signature perfume. I lightly grazed my erection and then wrapped the cool fabric around my testicles. I had to continue my search so I stepped into the panties and pulled them up snug. What a scene. I saw no harm in pulling on her thigh highs and I became extra aroused as the elastic snapped around my thighs. Suddenly, I froze when as I heard a car pull up the drive.
I shut out the lights but the car was only turning around. Fuck! Where was the dildo?
I made one desperate attempt to look under her bureau and came across a shoe box.
The small box contained ten or more letters. Each one from the same woman. My cock became somewhat flaccid as I scanned each sentence. It quickly became clear my wife and another woman were having a physical relationship going back over two or three months. The woman described my wife’s ability to submit and service the woman’s genitals. I was leaning against the closet door and collapsed to the floor in disbelief.
“I love you, my nasty little slut,” read one.
“You make me very happy. I want to own you and keep you,” read another.
The letters went on and on in the same vein.
None of the letters were signed with the actual name except one: Justine. The same Justine who was supposedly having a bridal shower at this very moment? There was no mystery of the dildo’s whereabouts now.
My mind was racing trying to recall where the party was being held. She told me. I remember her telling me but I was so caught up in myself to have paid attention.
I threw on a pair of Levi’s and was out the door driving aimlessly.
I felt like an imbecile to have missed the signs. My reality was eschewed and my sense of comfort and security was in the balances. I wanted to punish her; to let her know of my dismay. But I, too, needed to be straightened out for such frivolity. This all seemed to be a charade. Perhaps her boss could tell me where Justine lived. He might even know of her affair. At the very least, I wanted to see him again.
I soon found myself at the gated community. I was allowed in but I realized no one was home at the time. I rang the doorbell but no answer. I did not really know why I was there but I needed someone to erase my anguish or at least distract me from it.
I continued to drive and my mind was slowly getting used to her little secret. I, too, was a hypocrite for my harsh judgment.
“Is this the way I would want to be treated should she find out about my secret?” I asked of myself.
A sense of relief and perspective descended upon me and I was even a little turned on at the idea of my wife being with another woman. Submitting to another woman.
I sat at a light waiting to head back home but noticed a windowless bar to my right. There were a couple dozen bikes out front and a noise which told me there were good spirits inside. I decided to go in.
I was like a fish out of water. There was more leather there than I’d ever seen at one time. I looked the part of a Polo model and these urchins did not pretend to let it go unnoticed. I nearly turned around and left but then saw some cleaner looking folk playing billiards in one of the side rooms. I quickly joined in.
My only concern was beating the wrong person. I refused to play for money but found myself getting very competitive with the rough looking patrons. I enjoyed several beers and my game seemed to improve. I decided not to hold back and was soon playing someone equally as good.
I encountered a challenging shot and decided to be tricky and lay part way across the table.
I called the shot and crisply sank the ball. I expected applause or acknowledgment but there was no comment or congratulations from anyone.
Then it hit me.
My low rise jeans had revealed the lace and satin of my wife’s panties as I bent over.
The room came to a hush. There was no pretending they did not see the feminine item on my hips.
I stood back against the wall as a burly looking man gently grasped the cue from my hand. I did not question his actions because he looked as though he would break it over my head should I refuse. He handed the cue to a man next to him and then got right in my face. His mustache grew to his chin but he had no beard. I could smell beer on his breath and could hear the faint creaking of his leathers.
“Lower your trousers!” He whispered.
I had no choice. I was in a corner. I could feel the panties creeping up and the thigh highs gripping my inner thighs.
“Sir, I am in the wrong place. If you’ll just excuse me…”
The man’s hand was at my throat and the other on my crotch before I complied. I fumbled with the first two buttons and the rest tore open.
My pants fell to the ground as the lingerie became visible to everyone. The patrons seemed to set down their cues in unison.
“We got us a pretty one, boys. Let’s go,” he announced.
The man released his grip of my throat and redirected it around the back of my neck. I was lead out of the room into an adjacent room where there were already several people engaged in sexual acts. A couple women were being banged but there were also men pumping other men.
The two clean cut men from earlier were both on their knees and servicing other men.
I gulped as I realized my safety was in jeopardy.
The door did not close behind us. In fact, it remained open until a crowd had followed us in. I was quickly stripped of my shirt by a man in a leather hood. He was burly and tattoo covered.
“Am…Am I going to die, sir?” I pleaded.
The guy with the mustache leaned in with an evil grin.
“You’re not going to die, sissy. We’re going to have some fun. We won’t bite if you don’t.”
Some laughter broke the silence. A woman being fucked by two men glanced over but was not to be bothered by the scene.
I was standing in nothing more than panties and nylons before a group of unpolished ex-cons.
Welcome to prison, I thought.
I was shoved forcefully to a round, beat up sofa. The back had long been removed.
I said nothing and took my place on the platform. This was not to be nearly as sanitized as the previous week. I had a choice then. Now I feared for my life. My cock did not share my sentiments however. It peeked over the top of the lace waistband and I quickly tucked it sideways. There was no use. The shape was clearly defined beneath the satin fabric. The hooded man handcuffed my wrist and demanded the other. I offered it up to him and the steel clicked in place. Both hands were now locked together. He then barked, “ON YOUR KNEES!”
That was twice in one week I was ordered to my knees. I was experiencing a rush of both excitement and fear as the doors swung closed. There wasn’t a condom in sight and the idea of one being used tonight was laughable. A slender man fully-clothed caught my eye as he prepared to focus a cam recorder my direction. I took a deep breath.
I dropped to my hands and knees and closed my eyes as the panties were ripped from my body.
The next two hours were both violent and videotaped. The men positioned themselves in almost a rehearsed formation beginning with the masked brute. He removed his belt and began beating my body from my neck to the soles of my feet. The pain was unbearable as my sweat soaked skin bucked with each blow. He didn’t even slow to remove his cock from the leather codpiece. Another man removed his belt and joined in cadence with the other lash. He was becoming increasingly erect and finally stopped just long enough to fasten the belt around my neck. As if mounting a horse, he held tight the reign and straddled my body from behind. The leather burned as he held it taut.
His motion was quick and I knew penetration was imminent.
“Please!” I screamed. “sir! Oil or something!…”
His cock soon descended into me without hesitation.
I bellowed in pain and nearly lost consciousness. My vision became tunneled as he pumped harder. A man stepped in front of me and his erection approached quicker than my ability to focus.
His cock squelched my protest as he rapidly thrust in and out of my mouth. Resistance only fed their wanton desire. This would be the last outburst of protest I would make for the remaining night.
The first of many orgasms occurred quickly and the masked man was finished - for now.
A hardened looking woman with a tray of beers scratched a hash mark on a chalkboard.
“One!” she shouted in a whisky-soaked voice.
They were counting.
The moment a cock pulled out another one was there to carry the torch. And burn it did. The sloshing of the beer onto my back was a welcome sensation while the men refused to set down their drinks. Some were even poured between my cheeks during penetration.
Most of them returned for more and it was clear this could go on forever. The waitress kept the beer coming but was cajoled into participating. She removed her top in response to the cheers. Her sagging boobs and oversized, erect nipples bounced as she made her way over and positioned herself under me. She began furiously jerking my cock and the moment before coming felt her knowing lips close around it. She knew what to do and did it quickly. I don’t think she missed a drop as I gushed what seemed like a gallon. She staggered away to the approval of the men while buttoning her top. What remained of my nylons were soaked with semen and sweat and I was probably unrecognizable with the my cum-covered face.
The masked man made a point of collecting his handcuffs from me before announcing his departure. The party quickly winded down and I was left by myself. I had lost a contact lens at some point but could still see the chalkboard. 23 was the number of times I’d been violated that evening. There were at least that many who decided to fuck my throat as well.
I was beaten and broken down. The stench of beer, semen, sweat and cigarettes saturated my sticky skin. There was only the sound of a lone player shooting pool in the other room. No use complaining or asking for assistance. I staggered out the back door stark naked and missing both my keys and wallet. The sun was hinting at the night sky as I found my hidden key. My clutch leg was so shaky I could hardly drive.
I pulled into our drive and shut off the motor. The garden hose on the side of the garage was helpful in removing a bulk of the filth from my skin. I moved about to prevent the splash of water from ruining the silence. I tended to my wounds and went to bed. I wanted to come clean and tell my wife of my burdensome secret. Not that I had been jumped or gang-raped. In my mind I hadn’t been either. I had only met my fantasy half way and it had found me, too with a vengeance. In truth, I probably would return there again if I could. The open truth was the only thing separating me from contentment.
Kelly was asleep. I placed my hand on her shoulder and she turned slightly in her sleep. She looked angelic but I knew better. I looked closer. The morning light exposed two severe love bites on her neck and on her right boob. This was not my work.
She continued sleeping as I gently lifted the sheet from her body enough to see faint lash marks on her lower back. The panties she wore matched the very ones I’d had ripped from my flesh hours earlier. My cock grew rock hard as I pulled her panties to the side and discovered some deeper, darker welts. Kelly took a deep breath and rolled over. Her tiny waist contrasted her sizable hips and butt - enough to make any man OR woman envious. I never wanted to jeopardize access to this beauty yet I knew coming out could ruin everything. But things had changed for the better. She now had a story to tell whether she wanted to or not.
I leaned to my side and she nudged up against me.
“I need to talk to you about something,” she whispered.
Silence filled the room as I though. There are so many issues she could discuss.
“I know,” I replied. “Me, too…tomorrow.”
Next: part 3: The Auction