Mandingo Row Ch. 02 - Discovered

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.

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2. Discovered

One night, after she left, I snuck down to my own car and followed her. I'd seen enough detective shows (mostly on those lonely nights while she was out alone) to know how to hang back far enough to not alert her to my presence. I felt pretty proud of myself when she finally parked in a lot and got out. I parked on the other side of the street and back about half a block and watched her.

She walked down the street back in my direction, but then turned into an alley. It had no signage indicating any businesses were down that way, but whichever club she was attending that night must have been there. I was about to get out of my car when I saw two more women turn into the alley. Looking up and down the street, I saw more women walking from their cars towards the alley (some alone, some in pairs or threes). In just a few minutes of watching, I saw at least a dozen more women enter the alley. Whatever club it was, it was a big one. One thing that stood out to me was that they were all women, and all white. Some I think I recognized from our town -- in fact, I was pretty sure I saw everyone who was in the Born-Again Virgin club with Brittany and who had all taken the Purity Pledge.

That's when hit me. We weren't in Florissant anymore. We had driven about 15 minutes south to Ferguson. This was a very bad neighborhood. A run-down sort of slummy area, not quite the projects, but, well... Let's just say the only white people here were out-of-towners like me and Brittany. And all those women. And some of them drove very expensive cars - Beemers, Mercedes, Porches, Caddies. These women had obviously come from the rich white neighborhoods to the southwest, like Ladue, Frontenac and Towne & Country (which is exactly as White & rich as it sounds...)

I thought about getting out to follow them and seeing where they were going, but I was too nervous about being caught. What if one of my wife's friends recognized me? How would I explain crashing their ladies' club?

While it was a bit odd for so many women to be meeting this far away, in a kind of risky place, I felt relieved that she had told me the truth. They were just a bunch of women getting together for a club. Maybe it was a gym for women, some sort of night class? Suddenly I felt bad for following her here, for not trusting her. I felt guilty for doubting her. But I still wanted to know more. So I decided to wait until they all came out to see if I could get any more clues as to what kind of club my wife was involved in.

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I was awoken by a loud bang that startled me. My eyes shot open and I was blinded momentarily, until my vision adjusted to... Sunlight. I had fallen sleep! I jumped as something hit my windshield, again creating a loud bang that echoed around the inside of my car. I heard laughing and sat up to see several black teens pointing at me. One was dribbling a basketball that he'd been bouncing off my windshield to wake me up.

Another came up to my driver's side window and I hastily made sure my door was locked. He yelled something through the door about me being a "cracker ass" or something. I didn't stick around to converse with him. I hurriedly started the car and began to drive away as the basketball bounced off my car and the teen at my window told me to stay out of his "hood".

I cursed myself for falling asleep and looked down the alley all the women had disappeared into the night before. It was empty and featureless. Maybe there was an entrance back there, but I couldn't see it and I wasn't about to get out and look, not with those... *thugs* watching me.

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That night, I went to bed alone, as usual. But around 2am I was woken up by a cold draft or something. To my shock, I awoke to see Brittany down by my crotch, messing with my penis! I couldn't believe it! Had she suddenly given up on her vow of abstinence? But something felt weird about what she was doing to "Little Nicky" as we called my penis affectionately.

"Britt...?" I moaned groggily, "what's going on?"

Britt looked up at me with an evil grin that really stunned me.

"Oh, nothing, go back to sleep, honey," Britt's hair and makeup was a mess, as usual after her nights out. And her breath smelled terrible. In the dark it was hard to tell, but it looked like her clothes were torn and dirty, too.

"Wait... what the heck is *that*?!" I felt something cold on my penis and looked past her head. She had put something on it!

"Oh, it's just a chastity device," my wife informed me in the most matter-of-fact manner, as if this was a totally natural thing for a wife to be putting on her husband's penis in the middle of the night.

"A... what?!" I blurted, I tried to sit up, but was still too groggy and sleepy to pull it off.

"Well, Whitney decided that if we weren't going to be having sexual relations with our husbands, then they had no use for their little guys," Brittany said as she turned a key on a small lock connected to the device she'd trapped my penis in, "and men are known to abuse themselves sinfully. So since men can't control their dicks, we're going to control them for them."

I was absolutely flabbergasted as I looked down to see my penis imprisoned in a small, pink plastic cage.

"Why is it *pink*?!" was the first thing I could come up with, oddly. For some reason, I felt like if my wife was going to make me wear something on my dick, it should at least be a *manly* color...

"Oh, that's just what they were handing out," Brittany giggled, "I think it's cute."

I just stared at it. Was this really happening or was it a bad nightmare?

"Looks like I was right about the size," Brittany said as she flicked it with her finger, "I asked for a small."

"B-but..." was the best I could muster.

"Go back to sleep, Nicholas," Britt patted me on the head as she put the key-on-a-chain around her neck and went into the bathroom, leaving me locked, shocked and totally confused.

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The next morning, at breakfast before Fox and Friends, it was like nothing had happened. We sat there in silence and ate and watched, got dressed for church and did our usual routine.

Except I did it wearing a pink cock cage on my penis the whole day! It was privately humiliating, but somehow it felt like everyone knew. Certainly the other women in Whitney's cursed club were looking at me like they knew.

And when I looked at their husbands, they avoided my gaze and looked as uncomfortable as me, shifting in their seats and pulling on their crotches...

By mid-week I had actually kind of gotten used to the cock cage, even going to the bathroom wasn't a problem once I realized I had to sit down to pee, like a woman. Most of the time, I forgot it was there, after a first day of extreme self-consciousness wearing it at work.

And Brittany and I never spoke of it again afterwards. It was just a matter of fact in our relationship now, not up for discussion or debate. It was just the new reality.

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It was a week or so before I built up the courage to follow Brittany again. She was coming home later and later and sleeping in more and more. She was looking more and more beat in the morning and almost never spoke to me or even made eye contact with me. I could feel I was losing her. I just had to know WHY.

So this time I dressed for stealth and brought binoculars. This time I would see what was going on and, if I had to, I'd follow her the whole way see what she was up to.

When she left, I wasn't sure which group or club she was going to this night, but as luck would have it, she went to the same one I followed her to last time, in the run-down black neighborhood.

This time I parked in a spot to get a good view of the alley. I watched Brittany park in the same lot as before. This time I saw her meet up with someone else before heading in. I took out my binoculars to see who it was. Not surprisingly, it was Whitney. They embraced each other warmly and shared a kiss. It struck me that the kiss seemed a little too long, to intimate to be a friendly "hello" kiss between girlfriends, but women were more affectionate then men, so I dismissed it as innocent.

The two walked down the alley together, then turned a corner. I couldn't see where they went, but somewhere off to the left. I hadn't realized the alley had a turn at the end. Even with the binoculars, I wasn't going to be able to see much more than before.

Except, this time I could see all the women who showed up. I watched them all come, more of them streamed in fairly regularly over the next couple of hours. I lost count after 35 or so, but I recognized a lot of them from my community. There was the Sunday school teacher, Miss Applebottom, our Church organist, the librarian, my brother's wife, their babysitter, even several of the high school cheerleading squad, etc, etc.

I couldn't make sense of it all. What would draw so many of the women from our town from all different age ranges and walks of life together, to this bizarre spot, so far from their well-to-do, safe communities? Sure, Ferguson was centrally located between all the places these women were coming from, but... I had to know. Steeling my nerves, I mentally prepared myself to sneak down the alley and see for myself.

The sudden rapping on my window made me jump in my seat and drop my binoculars. I looked up, not knowing what to expect (those thugs again? My wife, angry at me for following her?). I didn't expect to see a policeman, banging his nightstick on my window. He was shining his flashlight in my face and motioned for me to roll down my window, which I did.

"Officer, is there something-" I started, feigning innocence.

"Get the fuck out of the car!" I heard a female voice command. It was a woman cop!

I complied, opening my car door and slowly stepping out.

"Hands where we can see them," she ordered.

I raised my hands and stepped away from the car. I looked behind my car and saw her police prowler behind me. Another cop was approaching me, their flashlight also shining in my face.

I could see the female cop well now- she was white and rather striking, a bit taller than me, blonde and with a shapely but tight figure. She shone her light in my car, looking for whatever cops look for in suspects' cars, "what are you doing out in this neighborhood so late?"

The other cop, a tall, imposing black man, grabbed me by the arm and motioned me to the front of the car while the female cop searched my car.

"I'm just-" I started to explain.

"Save it, pervert," she interrupted from inside the car. When she came out, she was holding my binoculars. It suddenly dawned on me how bad this looked.

"Wait, listen-" I said as I reached in my back pocket to pull out my wallet, intending to show my I.D. and explain that I was following my wife. But, as anyone who is NOT an idiot like me can tell you, the last thing you do in front of a cop is reach for your back pocket unannounced.

In a flash, the black cop had grabbed my offending arm, twisted it painfully behind my back and slammed me face-down on the car hood. My vision flashed and I saw stars from the pain of it.

"What the FUCK do you think you're doing, asshole?!" the female cop came over and poked at my face with her big black nightstick, "you've got to be the stupidest motherfucker I've ever met! What've you got back there?"

I could feel the black cop pressing up against me. Something hard was pushing between my cheeks as he ground his hips against my bent-over ass. I hoped it was just his nightstick. It felt big and hard enough to be... Only it felt like it was getting bigger... And harder.

The female cop reached back and searched my back pockets. Finding nothing she said "fucking pervert, was probably peeping through windows and jerking off in there... Weren't you, pervert?!"

When I tried to open my mouth to reply, she shoved her nightstick in it, nearly choking me!

"Shut up, pervert!" she spat at me, "nobody told you to fuckin' speak!"

Then she felt all around my ass, "spread 'em, pervert!" She yelled. I tried to comply, but the black cop roughly kicked my legs wide apart when I was too slow about it. The female cop felt me roughly between my cheeks and then reached under and grabbed my crotch, squeezing painfully.

"Called it!" She laughed as she felt the hardness of my plastic cage and mistook it for a hard-on, "though it doesn't feel like there's much worth jerking in here!"

I heard the black cop laugh at this, but he still hadn't said a word. He just kept me pinned to the car.

The female cop started looking at my car again, checking it out with her flashlight.

"What am I going to find if I run your plates, pervert?" She asked rhetorically, "bet you've got a record. A real sex offender, I bet. You look like just the type. I bet you like 'em young, don't you? You look like a pedophile if I've ever seen one. Young and defenseless, small enough to feel that microdick you're packing, am I right? Little girls... No, little *boys*, am I right?"

I just moaned as the black cop twisted my arm and ground his crotch into my ass, whether purposely or not, it was still humiliating.

Suddenly I heard the smash and tinkle of glass breaking.

"Look what we got here!" I heard the female cop call out, "broken tail light!"

The black cop just made a disapproving "tsk-tsk-tsk" as the female cop walked back up to the front of my car and declared, "that's a violation, pervert, we're going to have to take you in and impound your car."

I wanted to protest, but the nightstick impaling my mouth made it impossible. Before I knew it, the black cop had handcuffed me (much tighter than was necessary I felt) and hauled me into the back of their squad car. During the whole drive that followed, neither cop spoke to me and I was left with the female cop's nightstick shoved halfway down my throat.

I was surprised, and more than a little unnerved, when they stopped not at the police station, but at what seemed to be an abandoned warehouse.

The black cop yanked me unceremoniously from the car and dragged me into the building while the white cop looked around to make sure nobody saw us. I was sure I was going to die. Part of me was thinking frantically: "This has to be a mistake! This doesn't happen to White people! Was it too dark? Could they not see I was White? Will they let me go when they can see me clearly, in the light?"

As the black cop hauled me to the center of a large open area lit by a single bare bulb, the lady cop looked around and closed the large, metal sliding door, latching it behind us.

"Strip" she commanded.

I must have looked as dumbfounded as I was because she stomped over to me, slapped me hard across the face with the back of her hand and screamed, "I said STRIP, you fucking pussy-ass wimp!!"

Reeling from the blow, I held up my hands defensively. I muttered "okay, okay," and began to undress.

"No, no," she complained, "nice and slow. Gimme a show, bitch."

I couldn't believe what was happening. Could officers of the law really treat someone like this? I began to wonder if these two really even were cops... But that idea scared me more than if they were just bad cops. I focused on undressing slowly.

"You suck at this, you know," she groaned.

"S-sorry..." was all I could mumble in response.

"Come on, at least shake your hips a little," she slapped my ass, "bend over and show me what you got!"

I did my best to comply, bending over and wiggling my hips for her.

"That's better..." she elbowed the black cop, "not too bad, right? This asshole might have a future as a dumb stripper or something. Actually got a pretty nice, tight ass on him."

Stupidly, I felt a small flash of pride that my hard work with my wife's aerobic DVDs had been noticed.

"Yeah, he a natural alright," the black cop spoke more than I'd heard him say up until then.

When I looked back at them, I could see the female cop was rocking her crotch on her big, black nightstick and massaging a huge bulge in the black cop's pants with her other hand. The size of the bulge made me lightheaded - it couldn't possibly be as big as it looked... Could it?

The woman cop must have seen me staring at the black cop's package, "look at that faggot, Markus! He's totally checking out your big, black dick!"

"Fuckin' whiteboys all the same," Markus snickered, "only folks more obsessed with big black dicks more than white bitches is white faggots."

By now I'd stripped down to my underwear. I wasn't about to pull down my tighty-whiteys in front of these two messed-up cops. Plus, I had forgotten about the pink cock cage my wife had locked me in and had started panicking. There was no way I was going to be able to explain that...

"Well?" the lady cop snarled impatiently when I stopped stripping, "Are you deaf as well as dumb? ALL of it, asshole!"

I was shaking, "do... do I HAVE to?"

The lady cop got an enraged look on her face and lurched forward as if to get up and beat the tar out of me and I immediately started pulling down my underwear and turned away from them.

"Yeah, that's it, fagboy," the lady cop berated me, "show us that sweet, tight ass of yours."

Now I was completely nude in front of these two bizarre police officers. I had my back to them and was quaking in fear.

"Turn around," the lady cop commanded.

Hesitantly, covering my caged genitals with my hands, I obeyed.

"Oh, look," she mocked me with a sarcastic tone, "little whiteboy's trying to hide his widdle wee-wee!"

She strutted over to me aggressively. Instinctively, I took a step back, but she grabbed my hands and forcefully pulled them behind my back and cuffed them there. I was totally exposed.

Markus suddenly burst out laughing. The female cop looked to see what he found so funny. Markus was pointing at my crotch and the female cop looked down and started cracking up too.

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed, "what the FUCK is that?!"

"Damn whiteboy done locked hisself up!" Markus howled.

"Jesus, you're even more pathetic than I thought!" the lady cop shook her head at me as she tapped the pink cage with her huge, black nightstick, "what kind of sissy-ass pervert shit is this? Pink? Are you one of those transgenders or something?"

"N-no..." I whimpered, "M-my w-wife..."

"Wife?!" the lady cop burst out laughing, "Bullshit! What woman in her right mind would marry a wimp like you with a micropenis like that?! I mean, how do you even aim that tiny thing to piss?!" she teased, "with tweezers!?"

The two of them had a nice, long laugh at my expense, and this humiliation only served to make my penis retract in its little pink cage defensively. I admit I'm not the biggest guy out there, but I've always heard it's not the size that matters, it's how you treat the woman. Brittany never complained about my modest 3-4 inches.

"S-size doesn't matter..." I muttered, "what makes a man a man is being a gentleman..." I tried to speak up in my defense.

Well, this just led to a new round of even more raucous laughter from the two abusive police officers.

"Oh, you stupid cockless wimp," the female cop was wiping her tears of laughter, "that's just what they tell ALL the poor little shrimp-dick whiteboys like you!"

I could feel myself flushing in both embarrassment and anger. How dare they humiliate me like this!? I would be memorizing their badge numbers and reporting them as soon as I got out of here. Only I suddenly realized they weren't wearing their badges or nametags. I'd seen this in movies before -- when cops were going to do something illegal, they'd hide or cover up anything victims or witnesses could use to identify them. Suddenly I was even more scared than before.

"Okay, enough fun," the lady cop finally said, gathering herself, "we gotta search you. Squat."