Mister Bates Masturbates...

Mister Bates Mastur-bates.

It was too easy a headline, but I was still shocked to see it as I picked up my daily paper. Even worse - to see my picture next to it, to start reading the news story.............

" Ryan Bates was today fined $800 and given a 2 year suspended sentence for lewd behaviour, after he had deliberately masturbated in his garden in full view of the neighbours, aware that they were watching him. Mr and Mrs Geoffrey Pullman took pictures as he committed the lewd act in full view of their house......................" The story was a travesty. Of course, like all stories, there were elements of truth in it, but the picture painted was so far from the reality.

And of course the implications. The local paper - everyone in our community read it. How could I go to the shops? Work? The golf club? The sheer embarrassment.............

Even two hours later as I re-read the story again, I couldn't believe it. Over and over I had read it, stunned, shocked. The scenario felt worse and worse. My reputation ruined. My life ruined. All because of that awful couple next door.....

It had started 4 months earlier when the Pullman's had moved in next door. I had been neighbourly, gone around, welcomed them, offered any help I could. I had even taken them a cake. None of that seemed to raise a flicker of a smile from them. This frosty, austere looking couple in their early fifties gave barely a thank you before they launched into their demands. I should not play music in my garden. I should not have bar-b-ques as they didn't like the smell. I should not park my car in front of their house. I should not hang out washing on a Sunday - or the Lord's day as they called. This, they explained severely, is what they would expect of a good neighbour.

Added to that welcome was the veiled threat. They were elders of their local fundamentalist church, had friends in high places, were used to litigation...............

It was not a good start.

The reality was that we didn't see much of each other and didn't cross swords in the first few weeks. After that there was the occasional complaint - when a friend parked their car on the road, when I had the windows open playing music. Generally however, we "got along," until that bright sunny hot day in the middle of June........

So I'd had a few beers. I was sunbathing in the yard at the back of the house. We have a high wooden fence around. The Pullmans were out - their car was gone. And perhaps I shouldn't have been reading THAT book. Perhaps I should have been more aware of what my hand was doing as I read about the soldier seducing the two sisters. In graphic detail.

Trouble was I did get more and more excited, I did get myself out of my swimming trunks. And it was a relief - a wonderful relief - to cum.

After I had I cleaned up quickly, went inside to shower, I was greeted by the door bell.

I quickly put on my dressing gown, perhaps feeling a bit guilty, to be greeted by the Pullmans. It was the husband who launched into his speech. "You disgusting pervert, we saw what you were doing. You deliberately did it in front of my wife. It was disgusting. And we've got the pictures and will be going straight to the police."

I was stunned, began to apologise profusely, but Mr Pullman was not to be stopped. "It was disgusting. People like you should be castrated. You are scum........" then turning to his wife said "..............isn't that right, Grace?"

His wife looked really stern, nodding her head. The husband was not to be stopped. "This is not the last of this you will hear, young man, young sicko."

As I began to apologise again they turned off and stormed down the path.

To be fair to the policeman who came, he thought it was a joke and thought it was more than enough just to apologise. He even smiled as he said "Hope you gave them a good show, mate" before writing his report and leaving. "Just be a caution, I expect", his parting words.

Unfortunately the Pullman's did have good contacts, and drove it all the way to the courts. "We will make an example of you, you pervert. Stop any more sickos out there," he said as we passed in the corridor at the court. He even made his council refuse my guilty plea so that all the details - their version of them - were made public in the courts and for the reporters present who thought, with a story like this, that all their Christmases had come at once. Pranced around naked, they claimed. Made lewd gestures at them. Mimicked an obscene act with a mermaid statue. I couldn't refute them - I'd already pleaded guilty. Hence the fine. Hence the suspended sentence.

Of course the ultimate punishment and humiliation - front page spread in the paper. There was even a quote from Mr Pullman - apparently called Geoffrey - saying "...........we are glad that a pervert like Ryan Bates received the punishment due to him, and hope that we have helped to morally clean up the town". It didn't stop there. "We want to make it clear that there is no place in our town for people like Ryan Bates, and the sooner he moves the better for all of us".

I felt so helpless - there was nothing I could do. So angry that these "upright members of society" could use their contacts and standing to do this to someone. Anyone. Me.

I felt so angry. But what could I do? I'm not the sort of person who would kill someone - I have trouble stepping on an ant. There was no point confronting them - they would just find a pretext to hurt me further. Surely there was something I could do.

By the end of the day I had decided there was something I had to do - take a vacation. By mid afternoon when I took my phone off the hook I'd had phone calls from every puritan and pervert in the town. Even friends who had phoned up to commiserate couldn't hide the smirk in their voice.

The two weeks at my sister's the other end of the country allowed me time to calm down, begin to move on, begin to realise I had to face the music, but probably music which had become quieter. It was time to return home.

It was on the way home - at a small café - that things started to change. I picked up a religious leaflet - a newsletter for some group, and on the front was a picture of Geoffrey Pullman. He had been elected - two days before - as president of the organisation. I read it.

"...............Geoffrey, who has recently shown his steel and standards by taking a perverted young man to court who had been making obscene gestures to him and his wife...................... now working to drive perverts like that young man out of the town where he lives...............hoping to be joined in his neighbourhood by other members of the organisation in the near future..................."

I read the article several times, trying to make sense of it.............

When I arrived home later that evening I read my post. It was getting worse. Somehow this whole thing with the Pullmans was escalating far beyond my worse nightmares - there was a civil claim made by the Pullman's against me for compensation, with a letter from their solicitor offering to settle out of court for the princely sum of............exactly the value of my house. There were also threats that if I was to talk to others about this it might be considered me trying to pervert the course of justice.......

The next couple of weeks were difficult. I brazened out the smirks about the headline in the paper. I got back to work, and on the whole the people there were fine. I also hired a solicitor, but he had little confidence in my case particularly because of the police file I had - it was looking very bad. The Pullman's were going to win. I was going to lose my home, my friends, my livelihood. They were going to win my house; he had already won the top prize as president in his fundamentalist group on the back of my court case and humiliation. Where was this going to end?

But then it was the Tuesday evening. About 7.00pm. I heard the screaming.

Next door at the Pullman's there was screaming - a woman's voice. Banging. Shouting. A man shouting. Glass breaking. The woman's voice stopped abruptly. An outside door banged, a car was driven off, in anger.

I had to do something, but would this get me into even more trouble? But I had to do something. I went next door. I rang the bell - no answer. I tried to open the door - it opened easily. I entered, heard a moan. I went to the living room where the moan came from, to see sprawled on the floor Grace Pullman. Her face was covered with blood. Her clothes were ripped. There were scratch marks all down her arms. She had been badly beaten.

I spoke to her: "don't worry, I'll get the police......."

As I said it panic took over her. "No, please no." Her voice was surprisingly strong.

I hesitated. "But I must, you've been badly assaulted."

Her voice was vehement again. "No. Please, don't........." she winced in pain as her voice trailed away.

I hesitated. "Okay, but let me clean you up, tend your, um.............."

The strength had gone from her voice. "Okay. You'll find stuff in the cupboard over the sink."

For the next twenty minutes I tended her wounds, cleaned them out, put on antiseptic, put on dressings as best I could. They were mainly superficial - scratches and bruises. She moaned, but never stopped me as I helped her. At last she had collected enough strength to go and change and come back in black trousers and white blouse. During that time it was perhaps the first time I had thought she was a lady..............

She came back to the sitting room. She shocked me. "Please, you've got to take me away from here. Far away. Now."

"What?" I was lost for words.

She was suddenly panicking. "You have to take me away from here. He will kill me. He'll have you for murder. His friends at the police station will stitch you up........."

Suddenly I was frightened. "What do you mean.........."

Mrs Pullman was suddenly vehement. "Geoffrey. He did this. He will kill me. He said he would. And would get you done for the murder. My blood is already all over your clothes."

My heart was beating hard, but I had to make sense of this. "Okay, stop, tell me exactly what is happening". I spoke slowly to her.

She started to gabble. "I told him it had to stop. This was too much of a lie. He should stop lying about you. He had what he wanted. He shouldn't take your house. But he got angry........." She paused for breath. "He hit me, again and again. Told me he'd had enough of me. Would kill me when he got back. There was nowhere to run. Told me I wouldn't ruin his life." She slowed down. "He's gone out to a meeting, he'll be back in an hour. You've got to help.........." Mrs Pullman was pleading now.

She was right - we had to disappear. It had been bad enough already. Suddenly this whole nightmare had taken on gargantuan proportions. My mind in it's confusion told me that if we both stayed I would be in prison and maybe even in an electric chair one day..............

"Okay Mrs Pullman. Fifteen minutes. Then we go. We'll think where once we are moving. Out by my car in fifteen minutes."

The next fifteen minutes was a daze, as I packed essentials. Clothes. Computer. Toothbrush. Within twenty we were on the road driving.

It took another half hour for us to even speak to each other. It was Mrs Pullman who spoke. "Please call me Grace." Seemed an almost bizarre thing to say, but everything was going weird.

"Okay Grace." I replied matter-of-factly. I continued. "I've thought it out. We will go and stay in my uncle's fishing lodge tonight - we've a couple of hundred miles to go. Then we'll think out what to do next."

As we drove we chatted a bit more about what had happened. We stopped at a shop to buy food. We arrived in the early hours at the fishing lodge, and both were asleep in separate rooms very quickly.

The next few days were very strange. We walked a bit, watched telly, talked a lot. The longer we talked the more I discovered the real Grace underneath the cold exterior she had always shown. She was nice! After a couple of days I even began to think she looked nice - under the harsh exterior was a nice body, and when she smiled - I had never seen her smile before - she had a really warm face.

Two things dominated those few days. Firstly she talked and talked about her husband - almost like therapy. He had been a brute of a man. He regularly beat her, although was careful before this time never to touch her face. He took sex - he had never given her any enjoyment. Often it had been painful. He was typical of a sort - everyone's hero outside the home, but underneath ruthless to get what he wanted, and evil at home. I pieced all this together as we chatted. For Grace, this persecution of me was the last straw - she couldn't live with the monster any more. I was also aware that grace was more astute than maybe you would think - she had surreptitiously collected things together in a box which could do great harm to her husband. She also described how he managed to manipulate people - without them even knowing - so they would defend him, including the local chief of police.

Secondly we were desperate to know what was happening outside. Luckily Uncle Brian's lodge was well equipped - I could easily plug my laptop into the internet - we followed the story on all the local papers and radio. Of course we were headlines. Suggestions I had kidnapped Grace. Murdered her, even and run off. Geoffrey Pullman appeared several times and was quoted in the papers saying how delightful his wife was, how they adored each other, how I had threatened and persecuted them ever since they moved in - he even managed to produce real tears, somehow. The one good thing - they seemed to have no idea where we were.

For a couple of days we did nothing, just talked and watched. We were too stunned to try to do anything. It was in the evening a couple of days later things changed. Over our evening meal Grace said she was really sorry about the court case, it wasn't her idea to take me to court. She confessed, nervously - ever since she had seen me, watched me, she had thought endlessly about it, couldn't get the images out of her mind.

It took my mind a couple of turns to process it all. "you mean, you liked seeing me - jerk off?" I paused. "You liked seeing my cock?" Grace went bright red.

Suddenly I was overwhelmed. She was attractive with her slim body, pretty smile, short dark hair. We had been together non-stop for three days...... It must have been the reaction to everything. The events of the last few weeks. Being with this strange but attractive woman. I responded. "Then perhaps you should get a closer look at it!"

Before I knew what I was doing I had dropped my trousers and underpants, I was stiff, rock hard. I pulled Grace by the hand and dragged her to a bed. I didn't even undress her. I sat astride her shoulders. I rested my cock on her face. "Do you see it now?" I asked her forcefully.

She didn't answer. I began to slide my cock on her face - she didn't move, but didn't need to. My lust was at fever pitch, within a few seconds I felt myself pumping cum, endless cum, all over her face, in her hair, on her blouse. She closed her eyes, otherwise didn't move. Just accepted.

I wiped the tip of my cock off on her blouse and got off her. I was stilled aroused when I spoke to her. "You will not wipe that off until I tell you."

It felt ludicrous. Within minutes we were sat at the table again talking as if nothing had happened, except that Grace's head and shoulders were covered with my cum.

After a few moments silence it was clear Grace was crying. I was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. I shouldn't have done it. I started apologising, but this time it was Grace who took charge.

"No, I'm sorry." She spoke through her tears. "I wanted to help you, wanted to touch you with my tongue, but were afraid you wouldn't like it. Wanted you to put it in my mouth, but were too frightened to ask. Thought you wouldn't like me. He always told me it was dirty, what people like you got up to - sorry........." There was a pause, and the stupidity of it all came to me - I started to giggle.

"Please," she said, frightened. "Please don't laugh at me........"

"I'm not laughing at you - it is all so silly." I paused, got my giggles under control. "Do what you instincts tell you. It would have been so nice to feel your tongue, and, um, enter your mouth......."

Suddenly Grace seemed to smile. "thank you. You've been so nice to me, and I know you are kind, and I want to do it with you. Everything with you. Whatever you want to do. Please can we.........."

"I held up my hand. We can do everything. But only if you are enjoying it. I won't use you like that monster."

At the mention of her husband Grace burst into tears. I reached out to her and pulled her too me, put my arms around her to comfort her. She rested in my arms, putting hers around me. I lifted her head, then kissed her softly. It took her a few moments to respond, but as she did I gently pushed my tongue into her mouth, began to caress her tongue with mine. As I did I let a hand cup her breast. I felt her tense, then as she got used to it begin to relax, her nipple stiffening as I played with it through her blouse and bra.

After a few minutes we pulled apart, and she smiled a girly smile at me, before whispering "He never even did that to me."

I let her rest in my arms again, before whispering, "Well perhaps we should do a bit more......... perhaps we should take off your clothes so I can see you naked."

Again she tensed. "I've never done that for a man, I Can't, I'm so ugly....", she said slowly.

Again I suppressed a smile, pulled her to our feet and led her to the bedroom she had been using. I stood in front of her and slowly unbuttoned her blouse. She stood tensely, but let me do it. It dropped from her arms to the floor. I reached behind her, undid the clasp of her bra, and let that fall from her arms to the floor. She stood coyly, her arms in front of her, hiding her breasts.

I whispered gently to her: "Take your arms away, honey." She did, her eyes looking to the floor demurely. I reached out, took one her breasts in my hand, squeezed gently, my thumb swirling on her nipple and whispered again. "Honey, they are fantastic." I meant it - they were fantastic.

Although she lowered her eyes I could hear her breathing slightly more heavily than she had been.

I released the breast, began to undo her trousers, let them drop to the floor. I looped my fingers into the waste band of her panties and lowered them quickly to the floor. Again she hid herself with her hands until I shook my head at her.

I stood back to admire her - she was a stunning lady. I was surprised when she spoke in an almost girlish voice. "Do you like me?"

My reply was instant. "Like you? I think you are sensational." Without allowing any more talking I put my arms around her and kissed her hard, allowing my tongue to slip into her mouth. I felt her responding, at first with uncertainty, but with growing confidence as I responded to her, until she was kissing me passionately back.

Again after a few moments I released her, picked her up and carried her to the bed, lay her on it. I lay beside her, taking a nipple in my mouth, sucking gently. Her nipple stiffened instantly, she moaned gently at the attention I was giving her. I released the nipple, and again whispered gently to her. "Honey, open you legs for me."

Again she tensed, then slowly relaxed and I felt her legs moving. I took her other nipple in my mouth and allowed my hand to rest gently between her legs. She moaned a little louder as I allowed my hand to gently move between her legs. With my fingers I sought the lips of her pussy and squeezed them gently. She felt warm and moist between the lips, so I slipped my finger inside, pushing it slowly deeper and deeper into her. Although she tensed again, my finger slid in easily, and I left it there moving very gently until she relaxed again. My mouth was still sucking gently on her nipple, and her moans and gasps were getting more insistent.