Darrel came into his outer office, passing Thelma's desk. Usually she would give him an exuberant smile, have brought him a latte from Starbucks, but not today of course. This was the Day After.
"Good morning, Thelma," he said with a halting smile. Thelma's eyes narrowed, and her lip curled with obvious revulsion. "Uh, good morning, Mr. Plunkett." Darrell wondered if part of the issue was not only had she seen him masturbate, but saw the extent of his pot belly, that he had always kept so well covered with well tailored suits.
Darrell tried to laugh casually, but it sounded like a weak cough. "Last night was a bit weird, and I appreciate your coming over for it. Some couples are—"
Thelma ruffled her papers. "Mr. Plunkett, you really creep me out, man. Could you just like, go in your office now?" Darrell could see that she was filling out a request for a transfer to another department. He genuinely hoped she got it.
Darrell sighed, and went into his office, shutting the door. Just before the door closed, he noticed that a young chesty typist had paused at Thelma's desk and they were whispering, and Thelma was pointing to his door.
That wasn't good. Bootsie had given Thelma a plain white envelope filled with Darrell didn't know HOW much cash to not mention this to Darrell's superiors, but of course gossip was another issue altogether.
Darrell sat on his desk, and burst into quiet tears. It had been worse than he'd thought it would be. They'd had Thelma over to dinner, and then afterwards she'd sat in the living room, and Bootsie had snapped her fingers.
Darrell had had to strip naked, and Thelma had almost gotten up, and that was when Bootsie had sat next to Thel and whispered to her, and Thelma had sat still while Darrell shed his suit and underwear.
Then of course Thelma had been somewhat curious about the chastity belt that Bootsie had unlocked, and Thel's jaw had dropped when Bootsie had told her that Darrell wasn't allowed to cum without permission.
"It seems so medieval" Thelma had said, and of course Bootsie had laughed, before ordering Darrell to masturbate.
At first Darrell's cock hadn't gotten hard because he was so traumatized by the event, but then Bootsie had come up and whacked him repeatedly with her trusty plank, while Darrell kneeled and jerked his dick. Finally he had spurted onto the floor, and Bootsie had ordered him to lick it up.
Darrell had argued, and Bootsie had really laid into him with the plank, and finally he'd licked the entire thing up, gagging. Bootsie had also said "After all the blowjobs you've given, Darrell, don't you think you should be used to the taste of male semen by now?"
Goddamn, Master Hans had put Darrell through a lot, he'd made him dress as a transvestite schoolgirl with a plaid skirt and knee high socks and a Swiss Miss pigtail wig...he'd taken Darrell dressed like this into the woods and had him orally and anally sodomized by homeless men.
But that was nothing next to debasing himself in front of his lovely secretary... and she'd been so horrified! Wrinkling her nose, her mouth an O, and her look going from admiration to pity, to disgust.
After he'd seen the look on Thelma's face the night before, and he was still naked...his semen had left his penis so there was no thrill whatsoever, just humiliation, Darrell had made a rush for his clothes, but Bootsie had said no.
And when Darrell had tried to ignore her, Bootsie had stepped in with the plank and thrown Darrell across the coffee table and whipped his ass until he cried. He could've gotten up at any time, but he was utterly powerless when his lovely wife was dominating him!
And then Bootsie had played some Shirley Temple CDs and made Darrell dance and sing—and Thelma's contempt had deepened. She would never get him fired for this, the money had taken care of that, but obviously she' d tell her friends informally.
And now Bootsie was talking about having Darrell humiliate himself weekly to different people, perhaps serving tea naked except for a wig and high heels, something horrible like that. And what could he do?
For he was a hardened sub now. He was quite turned on by the whole thing and he was just desirous of serving his lovely wife. Unbelievably, he wouldn't have had it any other way, but it didn't keep him from crying in miserable humiliation.
On the other hand, it would be an interesting story for the ChasteBois group next Sunday. The other men would congratulate Darrell on being finally "broken in" to being humiliated in front of a known person. They'd been thrilled after he'd learned to suck cock, after all.
Darrell felt his chastity device through his pants. He didn't know when he'd get to cum again. What would Bootsie make him go through next? It had been somewhat of a ruined orgasm, he was so upset about Thelma watching and of course Bootsie was whipping his bare ass with the damn plank.
Depressed, he called his friend Alfred Nemirow. After hearing the story, Alf laughed. "The first time you're put through something like this is quite difficult, I agree. Fanchon has done it to me so many times in the last nine years that I am pretty much used to it, but being subjugated is tough."
"But it's so horrible" Darrell replied. "I wish I could say I didn't want to continue being a submissive male, but of course that's not true. It excites me as well as mortifies me, thinking about it, Alf. But the girl is spreading it all through the office...will this affect my work?"
"Well, I'll tell you a story, Darrell." Alf replied. "Every Friday night Fanchon comes to my office and she and my secretary and my assistant take turns whipping and dominating me...and one night they blindfolded me, and then I felt this thing coming up my ass. At first I thought it was a strap-on dildo, but then I realized it was actually a man's penis...and it came in my ass!"
Darrell choked, listening to this.
"So on the way home, Fanchon told me that one of the three guys who I supervise had happened upon this domination scene, and he'd offered to fuck me in the ass, and the ladies let him...but Fanchon wouldn't tell me which guy it was. I still don't know, and some days it drives me crazy!"
As Darrell hung up the phone, the door to his office opened, and Thelma came in, talking to the chesty typist as if Darrell wasn't there. "So I could put in for a transfer, right Melody? But like, maybe the better plan would be to just stay here and mess around with Jerk-off Boy."
"Thelma, I wish you wouldn't discuss—" But Thelma just walked over to the desk and took Darrell by the shoulder and pulled him up. And then, as he gaped, she began pulling down his pants.
"See, his wife gave me this envelope with like, five grand in it, and that's cool, but there was also a key, and I'm sure it was to this gadget here." After Darrell's pants had been yanked down, Thel pulled down his underpants and tapped his chastity belt with a long fingernail.