Ashfield Adventure Pt 05

Part Five. Frank.

On Wednesday evening, Angie announced that her period had started that day, a little sooner than predicted. She lifted the hem of her blue dress at the front, displaying the black knickers she was now temporarily allowed to wear.

"You can't believe how good it feels to have something covering my bum and pussy again!" she exulted. I stood, appreciatively viewing her legs. I Sidled around, and lifted the hem at the rear to inspect her ass, barely concealed by the sheer black nylon of her panties. I could even clearly see the snake tattoo on her right buttock through the material.

I gave a low whistle of appreciation, telling her;

"That looks pretty damn good. Let me just have a little feel to check how good it is!" She giggled and pulled away from my touch, hastily smoothing her dress down.

"Stop it!" she exclaimed. "Don't you start getting horny, now it's my time of the month!"

I pretended to sulk a bit; then grabbed her suddenly, spun her around and held her close, my hands on her waist. We kissed tenderly.

"Don't get too used it" I chided her, gently. "It's only for this week, remember; then it will be back to bare bottom again."

Her Master; our landlord, Brian, had just recently forbade her to wear panties, or leggings of any form. He had allowed her to wear these panties for one week only; whilst her period progressed.

"I know" she replied, becoming more serious. "I hadn't forgotten."

"Do you mind, much?" I asked. "Having to wear dresses and be bare- bottomed all the time, I mean." She shook her head.

"No, it's alright. I'll soon get used to it. As long as it makes Master happy. It does make me feel very sexy, I must admit. Do you mind?" I shook my head.

"Are you kidding? I bloody love it. I hardly ever got to see your arse when you wore jeans all the time!"

The humour reappeared instantly. She slapped my arm and chased me around the room in mock outrage. We both collapsed onto the sofa, laughing, cuddling.

********************

Very soon, Friday came around again, the evening that was set aside for her to be with her Master. Of course, she could be summoned at any time; and would have to obey the summons; but Friday night was always Brian night.

He was an older guy, going on sixty, with a large frame, very much going to seed. He had closely cropped grey hair, swollen man-boobs and a protruding belly. With his slightly bandy, skinny legs; and beady, black eyes, he would seem an odd match for a lively, twenty year old girl, but he was her Master, and she loved him. She had to. She had no choice in the matter.

Brian was a senior member of a strange society based here in Ashfield village; the members of which were able to exert an influence over certain other people. Angie and I had been manipulated into moving into his rental cottage, and; apparently being on the right mental wavelength, had fallen into their power. Now she was Brian's obedient slave; and I, an unimportant servant. Thankfully, for most of the time we were allowed to get on with our lives, as any other young, newly-married couple.

As far as I could tell, in the short time we had been involved, it was mostly about sex and dominance; and not much else. My young, pretty, innocent wife had been transformed into a submissive, cock-hungry nymphomaniac; at least when in the presence of the Masters.

My own role was mainly to get her ready in the approved manner; and to deliver her at the right place and time, whenever she was summoned. Sometimes I had to leave her, other times I had to stay and watch her being used; and even participate, on one occasion. Either way, it was hard; knowing that fat old pig of a guy was fucking her. Not to mention knowing that she would be cumming for him, freely. At least, I told myself, he was clean, educated and reasonably genial, most of the time.

So; on Friday morning I set off for work, expecting to see her later. As she didn't work on Friday, she remained in bed. We had already had instructions from Brian; and I knew that he was going to take her shopping in town at some stage of the day. He planned to replace her wardrobe with clothes more suited to his taste. I shuddered to think what that might be. Later on she would be staying overnight with him, which was a new development. Previously she had been allowed home after he had done with her. My bed would be a lonely one that night.

When I arrived home in the late afternoon they were both standing by Brian's garden gate; he in his usual casual trousers and shirt, she in her prescribed attire. This basically consisted of a pink dog collar and a pony tail. She was effectively nude. Except, on this occasion, she wore in addition a pair of the black panties I described earlier; a one-time concession to being on her period.

She was standing upright in her usual humble slave's posture; head down, eyes on the floor, hands at the small of her back. Her breasts were thrust forward; nipples aroused. A blue rope horse lead was clipped to the collar at her throat, the other end of which was casually held in Brian's pudgy hand.

He greeted me genially as I approached. Angie didn't move or look up at me; she was always totally subdued, submissive, whenever she was in his presence. We instinctively never spoke directly to each other at these times, unless ordered to.

"Ah! Stephen! We've just been taking the air while we waited for you. You had a good day at work, I trust?" I indicated that I had.

"Good, good. We have had a successful shopping trip, haven't we, My Dear?" He waited for an answer. Without looking up she replied in a hushed voice;

"Yes, Master." He grunted, continuing;

"Yes, indeed. Well, I've decided to keep your wife with me all day, so there will be no need for you to bring her later. You can have the evening off; I'll send her home sometime tomorrow morning, when I've finished with her. You can go now."

With that, I was dismissed.

It felt strange, that evening, cooking an evening meal for one; and eating it alone. Afterwards I opened a bottle of wine and got steadily drunk watching television. My thoughts were constantly on what might be going on between Brian and my wife; and how she might be coping. I told myself that so far she had coped remarkably well; and that she had taken everything that had been forced upon her, up to now, in her stride. Indeed, she had derived a great deal of sexual pleasure from it all, and always seemed eager for more. That had had a very agreeable knock-on effect on our own sex life, which up until then, had been rather stilted and restrained, to say the least.

I was a long time dropping off to sleep that night.

********************

She came home around ten o'clock the following morning, walking slowly with her hands behind her back, wearing nothing but her sheer black panties, the pink collar around her neck; and the sandals on her feet. I was waiting by the door, looking out for her, anxiously. As soon as I saw her coming I rushed to meet her; bundling her indoors quickly, away from the view of passing motorists.

We embraced and kissed deeply. I was sure I could smell semen on her mouth and face, but didn't mention it. I was pleased to note that she seemed in a relaxed mood. She went straight upstairs for a shower. When she came down she was dressed in an unfamiliar white, knee-length dress, long-sleeved, flared at the hips; with a single button fastening at the throat and a drawstring waist, tied in a neat bow. She undid the button, holding open the blouse area to show me the new bra she wore beneath, again white; and front fastening.

I had noticed the pile of new clothes in the bedroom the previous night, but had been too preoccupied to give them more than a cursory look. Now she showed me what Brian had bought for her in town the previous day. There were four white dresses, all identical to one she was wearing; and four white bras, also identical. He sure liked her in white.

For work wear, he had provided four plain white blouses, with four grey, mid-thigh length skirts. I thought that they seemed a bit short to be worn at work, with no knickers beneath, but she seemed quite happy with them.

There were also several pairs of shoes. Flat black slip-ons for work, a couple of pairs of sandals and, bizarrely I thought, a pair of black Doc Martens leather boots with pink, white and gold flowers printed on them. She was very excited about those, putting them on to show me. I thought it seemed a strange combination. There didn't seem much harmony between the feminine white dress; and the in-your-face masculinity of the black Doc Martens.

"Master let me choose these" she said as she clomped around the room, showing them off. "I've always fancied a pair, but they're pretty expensive." She grinned suddenly. "If anyone tries to mug us in town, I'll give them a good kicking!" We both laughed at that. I was pleased to see she had come home in a cheerful mood. "Seriously" she continued, "these will be great for winter and wet weather wear. They are very fashionable."

Lastly she held up a pair of black slip-on court shoes with alarmingly high heels. She pulled a face at these.

"I've never worn heels before," she said, "none this high at least. I could barely walk in the shop when I tried them on. Master says that I will need to wear them on occasion; so I have to practise walking in them. They make me feel so clumsy. Still, I'll practise every day. I don't want to let him down. I must try to be elegant for him." She began to put the new clothes away.

"Apart from the high heels, all these are for everyday wear. I still have to present myself in the collar and pony tail whenever I am summoned."

I sat on the bed, watching her, listening to her chatter on, as she put the new clothes away; folding her old ones for disposal. After a while I managed to steer the conversation around to the previous night. She seemed quite happy to talk about it.

"It was fine," she reassured me. "He took me indoors after he spoke to you. I was pleased to get in really; anyone passing by could have seen me standing in the garden in my knickers."

"He had me to cook for him. He'd bought some chicken breasts in town, so I cooked roasted chicken and vegetables. Once I'd got it all in the oven, he made me sit in his lap in that armchair, whilst he watched TV. He kept playing with my body as we sat; stroking my pubes inside the front of my knickers, fondling my boobs. Stuff like that. It was nice. He was gentle, didn't force me to orgasm for him, or touch my vagina; just let me enjoy being stroked."

"When the food was ready we moved to the table. It was just like when we ate at the Manor the other night. I sat on his lap as he ate, and he fed me from his own plate; putting the food into my mouth with his fingers. Offering his water glass to my lips for me to sip from"

After we'd eaten, we sat together on the sofa, watching television again; like a proper couple. Except he was clothed and I was nude. It was weird really. I mean, he could be my grandfather; but it felt right, too; it always does. I know it's the mind control thing, but in my head it just seemed normal. At the back of my mind I know that I'm repulsed by him, but at the same time I have this need to please him."

"Although he had a fire burning in the hearth I was beginning to get cold, shivering a bit. When he saw that, he said that I could wear the housecoat he'd bought for me that afternoon. It's a grey fleecy material, long, almost reaches to the floor; and really warm. He also allowed me to wear white socks to keep my feet warm. He told me that sometimes I would have to endure the cold, when he needed me to be naked; but on occasions like this he wanted me to be comfortable."

Later on, he took me upstairs, leading me by the hand. We both undressed in his bedroom; then he took me to the bathroom. He was totally naked; I just had the knickers on, my hair down."

"His bathroom is pretty much like ours, a bit bigger. There's a bath with a shower above, a toilet; and a bidet, which surprised me a bit."

"He opened a cupboard and showed me a shelf that he'd cleared for me. There was a toothbrush and toothpaste, scented soap; and a perfume spray. Expensive perfume, too. Some soft hand towels. I saw he'd bought a box of tampons, too."

"He stood watching me as I sat on the toilet, with my knickers around my knees, weeing. I don't think I'll ever get used to that. It's such a private thing, going to the toilet. I could see he liked it, though. His willy was starting to get hard. He passed me a fresh tampon and watched me put it in myself. Then he explained that whenever I needed to take a crap I would have to clean myself thoroughly afterwards, on the bidet, and then apply a little perfume to my bottom and pussy. He said he would be getting a bidet installed in our bathroom too. I have to be clean at all times."

"After I'd washed and cleaned my teeth he told me to get into bed and wait for him, whilst he got ready. I sat up in bed, propped up on pillows; and waited. That felt strange, sitting there, bare-boobed in a strange bed; waiting for an old man to come to me. I wondered how he might use me; he did say previously that he wouldn't have full sex with me whilst I'm on my period."

"When he came through from the bathroom I saw that he was fully aroused. His fat dick was hard, sticking out, swaying side to side as he walked to the bed. I was wet straight away. I can't explain it. He's a fat, unattractive old man, but I so wanted his cock inside me."

He clambered into bed beside me, pulling me to him. He kissed me, open mouthed, playing with my breasts and nipples. I wanted him so much. I wanted his tongue, his hands, his cock."

He pushed back the duvet, lay on his back and made me straddle him. I could feel his hardness, pressing against my groin; and I so much wanted him to rip of my panties, pull out the damn tampon and fuck me bloody. That's how carried away I was."

"Instead of that, he pushed me down the bed; and I sucked him off, until he came in my mouth. I swallowed his load, sucking his cock dry like a cheap whore."

"He let me brush my teeth again afterwards. When I returned to bed I curled up on my side, my knees raised; and he lay close behind me, pulling my bum into his fat belly. One arm was around my neck, his hand fondling my breast. The other hand went down the front of my knickers. His fingers didn't penetrate my pussy; just found my clitoris and fingered it, mercilessly, until I came for him."

"Afterwards we lay in that position for a while, until I drifted off to sleep, with his cock pressing against my bum."

Angie paused for the first time, then. She sighed, wistfully; then continued.

"In the morning I had to suck him off again, before we got up. We both showered, he got dressed. I put on the long housecoat; then went downstairs. Master cooked breakfast for us both. He fed me like before. I quite enjoyed sucking the bacon fat off his fingers. Then he made me leave the housecoat there; and sent me home."

"There. That's it. You know everything. It was OK. He was gentle, loving, didn't hurt me at all. I'd rather have been here, with you, but I enjoyed it. It felt good to please Master. So how was your evening?"

And with that we changed the subject.

********************

The rest of the weekend passed in an agreeable fashion. Shopping in town on Saturday afternoon. A long woodland walk in a nearby country park on Sunday. Sharing a bottle of wine whilst watching TV in the evenings.

Monday, as usual soon came around. Brother Frank, the youngest member of the Circle, continued to be jerk at work, but I only saw him once, briefly. You will remember that he was the Master I felt most threatened by. Young; at nineteen or twenty he was around the same age as Angela, a couple of years my junior. He was the son of my boss; rich and privileged, spoiled really, with a lean, tanned, athletic body. He was also very immature, with the mentality of a fourteen year old.

Frank had made his desire for my wife clear; and had exulted in his possession of her; and of his contempt for me. What disturbed me most was that he was the Master whom Angie was most attracted to, physically. Although, mentally, she detested him, physically her body lusted for his attention.

Having to see Frank almost every day at work was very hard for me, particularly as he took delight in rubbing my helplessness in my face as much as he could. It had become a relief to clock out at the end of the day; and get away from him.

That Monday evening, as we ate together at our small dining table, Angie suggested a walk down to the pub in the village afterwards.

"We haven't been out for a quiet drink for ages;" she said, "and it would be a nice change for you to get out for an hour or so. This business with the Masters affects you more than you let on, you know."

It was true. My main concern in all the events I describe was her physical and mental wellbeing; my own welfare didn't seem important. She was the one being used and coerced; I was mostly a helpless bystander to the goings-on. But it did affect me, knowing that I couldn't protect her; and especially the fact that I did get a perverse enjoyment from watching on whilst others had their way with her.

So it was decided. After we had eaten and cleaned up, I put on a clean shirt and jeans; and we headed off for the village pub. She had already changed out of her work clothes, and was dressed in her everyday outfit of the white dress, bra and sandals I described earlier. Fearing it would be cold as we returned later I offered her the long, woollen cloak that had been provided for her comfort; but she declined to wear it. I took it along with us anyway, for the walk home later.

We walked the half mile into Ashfield in the gathering night. It was almost dark as we reached the Duke's Arms; the light from the lounge windows and open door invited us in. It was warm and cosy as we entered.

It was a very traditional pub. There was a bar to one side with kitchens and storerooms behind. Bare sandstone walls, a big fireplace in the main lounge; with benches against the walls and several tables with wooden chairs. There was a smaller room next to the bar, the snug, which traditionally would have been for ladies to sit away from the main bar area. Little used these days, the door was closed and the light off.

Monday night was not a busy night at the Duke's Arms. Most of its trade happened at weekends, when it attracted customers from the town. Weekdays, a few regulars from the village kept it ticking over. The only other customers were a group of three guys sitting around one table, and an elderly chap sitting on a bar stool, talking to the landlord.

We went up to the bar and the landlord poured our drinks; lager for Angie and pale ale for myself. We'd been in three or four times since moving to Ashfield a couple of months previously, not enough to be considered regulars, but I think the landlord did recognise us, nodding to us as we approached in a guarded, rather than friendly manner. We took our drinks and sat side by side on one of the benches, our drinks on the table on beer mats.

We chatted idly as we sipped our beers. Just normal married-couple chit chat. Work, holiday ideas, money. As usual I finished my pint long before her lager was half-finished.

"Do you fancy another?" I asked. She shook her head.

"Well, I'll just get another one for me, then we'll head off home" I said, as I stood up and headed for the bar.

I made an attempt to engage the landlord in small talk as he pulled my pint. He wasn't one of those outgoing, friendly types you usually get in country pubs. Quite morose really, but not hostile. In old villages like Ashfield it took a long time to be considered locals. I heard the door creak open and voices entering; and turned to look at the newcomers.