WEDNESDAY, APRIL 21, 2010.
Although experiencing a weird excitement by adopting a very subservient role to Joe, who certainly brought out my masochism during the two years he spent punishing and humiliating me while fucking my wife, it's a very different matter to find myself in a similar position with the loathsome Max. The fact that our feelings of detestation for one another are mutual, but that he has the upper hand, makes my servile position to him altogether different.
Of course I have no choice but to obey the bastard, knowing that any refusal is bound to result in our secret lifestyle becoming common knowledge. The humiliation of facing my colleagues on the council should they know that my wife has been fucked by upwards of three hundred guys, in all sorts of situations and circumstances but often with me watching and masturbating; Max by this time possessing many compromising photos, doesn't bear thinking about. So it is that I agreed to take the afternoon off and meet him, Miss W and Marie at lunchtime in The Horseshoe pub.
LATER.
Max and Miss W were alone at a table when I arrived and seeing me looking about Miss W said, "The whore will be back in a minute, she's gone to the loo. I suppose you thought the slag was up to her usual tricks and on her back with her legs open some guy."
Marie appeared soon after, walking through the bar, her short and rather tight black skirt revealing the outline of suspenders. Mine weren't the only eyes to feast on Marie's figure, Max commenting that as ever my wife exuded both sexuality and availability.
"A couple of guys fucked your wife at the hotel this morning and she knows I've got something special lined up for the afternoon. See how excited she looks."
Marie certainly seemed animated as she sat down; asking if we were going now I'd arrived.
"See how impatient the slut is for another five cocks," Miss W sneered.
Crossing her legs, the short skirt riding high, Marie was very aware and plainly revelling in the many looks she received, but I looked about nervously hoping none of the customers knew us. The Horseshoe is much too close for comfort and it's a distinct possibility that people from our village use it and would recognise us. With Max squeezing Marie's thigh in full view, thus adding to my nervousness I was glad when a frowning Miss W said we ought to go.
"The bikers will be growing impatient and might leave before we get there," she said, laughing at Marie's rapid exit.
Max told me that it wasn't far to go and we'd all travel in my car as the parking area would be limited. Well, he was right on both counts. Following his directions I left Sywell on a long straight road, soon leaving the small industrial area. He told me to slow down and then pull up in a gateway almost on the bend at the end of the straight. There was just room for my car amongst the motorbikes and riders. Miss W had said five in the pub but I counted seven leather clad figures, the sight of them clearly exciting Marie.
"Perhaps be as well to take your stockings off otherwise they'll get torn," Max suggested.
With guys looking in the car windows my wife hiked her skirt up to do just that, affording them a very sexy display.
"Red knickers," someone commented.
"Red for danger," from another.
"Yes, danger big hole!" exclaimed Miss W, the bikers laughing.
We had to climb over the padlocked gate, Marie's display of thigh and knickers again exciting the bikers. Max brought us to a halt just a few steps along a track bordering the small private airfield.
"The bunker," he said pointing to a grassy mound.
I wouldn't have given the mound, covered in long grass, nettles and brambles, a second look and was amazed to learn it was an old wartime bunker. The entrance was virtually concealed by long grass but we followed him down into it, passing an old wheel someone had dumped, before entering the bunker proper.
The bikers had evidently been down already as a number of candles were scattered about the dark, dank bunker. It was dirty and smelly, the floor strewn with litter, amongst which were used condoms. Someone had even defecated in one corner! However the filth and squalor of the surroundings clearly excited Marie who clapped her hands together squealing with delight when Max said the bikers were going to strip her naked and take her, one after the other, on the filthy concrete floor.
"Not enough room down here for everyone though so we'll take the wimp back outside and deal with him there," Max said ominously. "Do your best boys."
"Or your worst," Miss W added. "Strip the bitch naked and get her down on the filthy floor where she belongs. Give her a good fucking amongst the garbage."
With a last look at my wife whose skirt and top were already off, and seeing the many hands pulling her knickers down, I followed Max and Miss W back up into daylight. Leading me to the far side of the bunker, out of sight of the nearby road, he ordered me to strip. I undressed, Miss W watching with a malicious smile on her face, a smile which broadened when we heard Marie's loud shriek from within the bunker. Reduced to just the stockings, suspenders and frilly white knickers I'd donned, knowing Max would expect me to be wearing female attire; I saw with surprise that he was rolling the old wheel from the bunker entrance.
"Get those panties off Perkins," he ordered, laying the wheel amongst the grass on the side of the bunker.
Next I was ordered to lay face down over the wheel, a position that raised my backside in the air. Then, and taking me by surprise, they tied my wrists to some metal rings in the ground, rings which had been concealed by the long grass. When my ankles were dealt with in the same way I must admit that the feeling of complete helplessness had a disturbingly arousing effect on me.
"As each one finishes fucking your wife the bikers will be coming out to thrash your arse with their belts, some of which I was pleased to see are studded," Max taunted. "First though I'll warm it up with some nettles the way I enjoyed watching Joe do, what it must be about a year ago."
"No, not that!" I shouted, Miss W laughing her vindictive laugh.
Then I screamed as without warning nettles were brushed across my buttocks. If anything the pain from the nettles was even more excruciating than when Joe had done it and I howled. They were both tormenting me then and it was Miss W who viciously thrust a handful of nettles between my thighs. As usual she seemed more sadistic than Max and my balls felt on fire from the stinging nettles pushed repeatedly against them. It was almost a relief when one of the biker's appeared, despite the leather belt in his hand.
The biker laughed to see me stretched out over the wheel wearing nothing but stockings and suspenders.
"Give his arse six of the best with your belt, as hard as possible," Max said.
"Make it ten," Miss W urged, again thrusting the nettles against my balls to make me howl.
"No six will be enough. Don't forget there's another six guys to come."
I felt relieved by his words but then yelled when the biker suddenly and unexpectedly lashed my buttocks with his belt. Max and Miss W laughed and continued doing so as the biker continued lashing my buttocks.
It was over but my relief didn't last long as a second biker emerged from the bunker and immediately took over. To Max's delight the second biker's belt was a studded one and I yelled continuously as he beat me with it, the metal studs cutting into my already tortured flesh.
So it went on until all seven biker's had used their belts on my backside, which also meant of course that all seven had fucked Marie.
"Right, over with him," Max said and willing hands released my ankles and wrists from the hooks and turned me on to my back.
"No, no!" I cried, seeing both Max and Miss W with nettles in their gloved hands.
"Oh yes!" Miss W chortled, plunging her nettles on to my balls yet again.
Max joined in, brushing my penis with his nettles, a penis which I'm ashamed to say was fully erect, despite both the pain from the nettles and the scorn of the bikers. Again I howled continuously, pleading with them to stop. However it was only when Miss W remembered my wife, still down in the bunker, that the nettles were abandoned.
"Get back inside and do the slag up the bum. Let's hear her yells out here while you all give it to her," she urged the biker's, who turned and were practically fighting to be first in the bunker.
After a brief pause Marie's loud shriek was heard from below and Miss W went to the entrance to see what was going on.
"It's that big ginger haired guy. He's really pounding your wife's bum hole while the others hold her down, not that the slag needs any holding," she crowed jubilantly.
At least I was spared any more torment from the nettles. Miss W continued to watch from the entrance to the bunker, giving a running commentary about the goings on inside. While Max stood watching me, a gloating sort of smirk on his face, as we listened to Marie's ongoing shrieks and yells emanating from the bunker.
Some of the bikers were beginning to drift back out by the time Miss W shouted exultantly, "The fifth one's up her now, the big bearded guy, and he's really pounding the slag's bum hole. Listen to the bitch scream!"
Marie's yells, echoing and resounding from the mouth of the bunker, were certainly wilder than anything we'd heard before and I wondered if what was happening to her was too much, even for my randy wife.
Eventually all the bikers had emerged into daylight leaving my wife flaked out on her stomach in the bunker, well and truly fucked according to a highly delighted Miss W.
"If anyone needs a piss the wimp's body looks as if it needs cooling down, piss on him," Max told the bikers, who immediately surrounded me on the mound.
It was the big bearded guy, having taken up his position on the very top of the mound straddling my head, who began urinating first, quickly directing the stream on to my face. I closed my eyes but not before I'd seen Max's smirking face through the throng. I couldn't close my ears though and as others began urinating on me I heard his triumphant laughter ringing out.
Tied down over the wheel I could do nothing to avoid the streams as the seven bikers urinated on me, some starting as others finished, and most directing their pee onto my face at some point. Throughout it all I had to listen to their sneers and jeers, the despised Max's voice uppermost.
Afterwards Max thanked them for their help in subduing me, as he called it, and the bikers went on their way. My humiliation wasn't quite over though. With her body looking dirty and bruised, Marie emerged from the bunker and while Miss W mocked her for the state she was in, Max asked if she'd enjoyed herself.
