Hi …. I’m Patrick and 50 years old. Throughout virtually all my adult life I’ve worked as an admin pen-pusher of one sort or another, with the last few years being at Sloth County Hall. Although I’m a “Mr. Average” with an average income, my wife (Debbie) and I live with our three teenage children in a beautiful, large home, almost a mansion, in a prestigious suburb along the bay. My children are being privately tutored, and we own two new BMWs.
Although my wife rarely works nowadays, it was her endeavours which helped us achieve this lofty status. Most of her time during her 30’s years, plus a year or two either side, and apart from the obvious three pregnancies, she worked as a private consultant, which was an occupation she seemed to have greatly enjoyed. In truth, I was never quite comfortable with her often being away from home, sometimes for several days at a time, especially with having to leave our infant and growing children in the juggling hands of my sister and I.
Still, the on-site consultancy and the seminars she conducted all paid exceedingly well, and filled our coffers to near overflowing. But despite it turbocharging our financial situation, I was relieved when she finally called it quits.
My work has almost always been based around boring admin, where office politics and gossip often run rife. Although I don’t really care what other people say behind my back, I seem to have always been plagued with furtive accusations of being gay, or a masochist, and at one particular stint in an office down town, I received feedback that the rumour-mill had labelled me as a sissy, wimp cuckold. Of course, there was never any substance to this malicious gossip, but sometimes mud sticks and can wear you down.
The only concession I’ll make in self-analysing my personality is …. I’m probably not very assertive. It’s not that I don’t have strong principles. It’s more like an aversion to conflict.
Anyways, I apologise if my rambling, context landscape was too mundane, but I felt it necessary, so you can fully appreciate the gravity of the series of events which occurred around 20 years ago, when I’d just turned 30 ……
Back then, after 5 years of marriage, my wife Debbie, who was then 28, was getting crazy to start having babies, and why she insisted we buy our first home. She wanted a secure and permanent base for our inevitable offspring.
So, after lots of debate and searching, our savings and budget found us with a mortgage on a cheap, 2 bedroom place in the run-down side of town. But it was a committed step onto the property ladder, and with its decent back garden and large, detached garage, at least I’d have my own private man-cave. Many of the other homes in the area were renters, owned by penny-pinching landlords who only did basic maintenance. The homes either side were rentals, with a young couple with two kids on one side, and old Mrs. Hodgeson on the other. After 3 months, we were only on passing terms with the young couple who were wrapped up in their own lives. But we were devastated when Mrs. H. moved out to go into a nursing home. We’d grown very fond of the old girl next door.
It meant we’d be getting a new neighbour.
……………………
I was shocked and dismayed when I saw Kevin pacing back and forth in the entrance to next door’s driveway. Years ago in college he’d been a manipulative and vindictive bully, and I hoped I would never see him again. He was big and imposing and had frequently terrorized the other students. I’d seen him dish out severe beatings to those who tried to buck against his outrageous and carnal harassment. He was half insane and overtly depraved …. An immoral and deranged psychopath. Male or female, pussy or ass, it didn’t seem to matter to him. So when it was my turn to sample his perverse brand of torment, I’d simply caved in from the start. He then took it for granted I was his to command, and for several weeks I was his very personal slave. I reasoned it was better than black and blue beatings, so I’d served him however he wanted. I thanked the Lord when he eventually got bored of our ‘alliance’, and found someone new to go torment. It was bliss to be finally left alone.
……………
As I watched Kevin’s constant pacing in next door’s driveway, a random glance caught me watching from my veranda and he waved his arm, beckoning me to come join him.
I daren’t simply ignore him ….. Who knows what kind of backlash that may have caused? So, after a deep breath to steel my nerves, I reluctantly sauntered across to stand near him. Surprisingly, he didn’t recognise me at first, as he told me his name and informed me he’d be my neighbour for the next 6 months.
Then, as we talking, his polite eye-to-eye suddenly became intense, and as he studied my features a broad grin broke out across his face.
“I know you… you’re Pinky from Drums Leigh College. Weren’t you the one I used to….”
I inwardly cringed at being reminded of the torment I’d endured during the time we were together in college.
“Those days are long gone, Kevin. My name is Patrick, and would appreciate being addressed as such,” hoping my blunt interruption and forthright statement would put our past interactions behind.
“Pinky Patrick with his silky pink panties. I remember now. I bet you’ve still got them, huh?”
I swung my head around to see if anyone was in earshot, my panic a dead giveaway.
“So, you do still have them, you pervert. And I bet you still wear them, huh?.”
“No, you don’t understand. I only had them because it was an adolescent thing. A souvenir from my first love.”
“So why did you used to wear them in college then?”
“I didn’t wear them. Someone found them in my sports-bag one time and I was .. persuaded .. to put them on in the showers after training. But it was only that one time.”
“Oh yeah. You put them on, then as I recall you…..”
“Look Kevin.” I jumped in to stop his flow. “That was a long time ago. Just let it drop, yeah?” as I attempted my most assertive tone.
I couldn’t allow him to perceive my unease at having, yet again, to contend with this towering hulk of a man who I knew was mentally unstable. He’d controlled my life and caused too much misery and humiliation in the past. I now had a wife and mortgage for goodness sake. I’d moved on. I was worried Kevin may consider other thoughts.
“My removal van is here, Pinky. But I’ll see more of you later, I’m sure.”
I retreated is despair. My only hope was to try and avoid this nasty piece of work for the next six months.
……………………………………..
When it had been my 18th birthday, my parents had insisted on throwing a lavish party, and most of my family were there, including my dear Aunt Molly. When the alcohol flowed and tongues became loose, it inadvertently and embarrassingly came to her knowledge that I was still a virgin. In her merry state due to too many vodkas, she privately told me she’d personally rectify the situation. And she did, exactly three days later. Despite being 42, which seemed quite old to me at the time, she was an absolute wildcat in the sack, and always the initiator and dominant partner during our 6 months passionate and animalistic affair. She always wore pink panties, and many times I watched her slide them down her long, slim legs to reveal her perfectly shaved pussy which would soon be riding my cock. I never masturbated during those glorious, summer months. I never had to, because hardly ever three days went by without me being used as a sex toy by my dear, sweet Aunt Molly. Sadly our debauched fling had to end when my end-of-senior break was over and it was time to go away to start college. Looking back, it is probably just as well, because she was steering me down a very perverted path. We had reached a point where she would routinely tie my outstretched arms to the sides of the bed so she was free to use me however she wanted. Then, during the last couple of weeks of our ‘sessions’, she’d started to insist I was installed with a butt plug, to get me broken-in, she explained, for what ‘other games’ she had planned. One time, with a butt plug inserted and my legs tied together while she was riding my cock, she pushed her pink panties into my mouth. Then, riding me harder to bring me near climax, she started hard-slapping my face. “Don’t you dare cum in me” she hissed, “Don’t you dare cum in there or I’ll fuck you like a bitch with my strap-on”. I convulsed and erupted just a few seconds later, fully conscious of her ominous threat. I was never to find out if she was serious, because college was looming and our debauched fling had to end. She did give me a pair of fine-silk, pink panties as a parting gift though. They had become a mind-set, a trigger, where if I saw a pair, I would become aroused, associating them with being dominated, tied and gloriously ravished to climax. Unfortunately, it then became a habit to wear them whilst masturbating, which I frequently did when on my own in my dorm at college. I’d fantasize about being tied and sexually used and abused, and what Aunt Molly may have had in her plans. This only reinforced the association between the sight and feel of pink panties and perverted arousal and the absolute best orgasms ever.
They were my Achilles Heel.
……………………………………….
MONDAY
A week after Kevin moved in, I came home from work on Monday evening to hear my wife announce we’d been invited to his house warming party.
“What, Kevin has been here?” I asked, my voice barely containing my angst.
“Yeah, he popped around just after lunchtime when he saw I’d got back from my shift at the library.”
“And what did he say exactly?” dreading the possibility of several unpleasantly compromising replies.
“He just said that you and he were old college buddies, and asked if we would like to attend his house-warming party on Saturday evening. He was only on the doorstep for a couple of minutes. After he told me you guys knew each other, I invited him in, but he said he was in a bit of a rush. He said maybe next time he’d bring some cookies and join me for coffee and entertain me with some old school stories he bet you’d never gotten around to tell me. Why didn’t you say you guys were at college together?” she asked with a quizzical stare.
I became blank at her question as I gulped in despair and stared into a vacant middle distance. Of course I’d never gotten around to telling her some of those stories. I’d intended to take them with me to my grave.
After several tense seconds, when my wife realised I wasn’t going to answer, she continued, “Anyways, he said it was a reverse fancy dress. The women were to be dressed as male characters, and the men would be dressed up as women. He said to say for you not to feel embarrassed about coming dressed as a woman, like as if you might be reluctant or something. Anyways, of course I said we’d be there. It sounds like fun.”
I scuttled away before my wife had chance to perceive any emotion. My mind was in meltdown. Should I tell my wife not to speak to Kevin? Should I tell her we can’t go? That would surely open a barrage of uncomfortable ‘whys?’ I had to go see Kevin and assert some kind of authority, otherwise this mental torture could go on for months. After dinner I went round to see him.
………………………………….
“Hi, Pinky,” he said, as I stood on his doorstep. “I didn’t expect to see you here this evening. Party-time isn’t until Saturday,” Despite his words, he was grinning like he knew I’d show up.
“Look, Kevin. You’re going to have to stop dragging up the past. I won’t put up with it.” I asserted, trying to disguise my discomfort.
“I can understand why you’d like to forget the past, ‘cos this afternoon it all came back to me. I’ll be honest with you Pinky, until yesterday, I’d completely forgot. And I can’t blame you for being ashamed of your past behaviour, but we’re neighbours now, so I’ll cut you a deal. If you come to the party, I promise I’ll be a good neighbour. If you don’t, it’ll be an excuse to pay your wife an occasional visit. Tell her some stories.”
“You leave my wife out of it.”
“Hit a nerve, have I? It’s up to your wife whether she allows me to come and visit, especially when I know you’re not there. Or it’d be even better is she comes round here and look me up, which could result in her looking up at me as she kneels at my feet.”
“Enough! I’ll come to your stupid party, but after, you stay out of my life from then on, ok?”
“Sounds fair to me. I can’t wait to see you dressed as a woman, though. See you then. And don’t forget your extra special underwear.”
“I won’t be wearing anything special for you.”
“Oh, I expect you will be. For sure at the start, but maybe not by the time of the climax. Under something flimsy and frilly is my suggestion, and as you know, I always have my way. Anyways, I can’t stand here talking all night. I’ve calls to make. I haven’t organised the video-taping yet. Be sure to say ‘hi!’ to your wife.”
With that, he closed the door in my face, and I slinked home like a scolded, lost puppy. So much for standing up for myself. Even worse, I’d called his party ‘stupid’ and virtually ordered him to stay out of my life afterwards, and Kevin’s not the type who takes orders.
…………………………….
TUESDAY
The next day, Tuesday, I arrived home from work to more disturbing bad news.
“Kevin called around here again this afternoon.”
“Oh, joy,” I silently sighed inward. “What did he want today?”
“He said he was going to take some photos for nostalgia at the party, and did you still have your old sports gear. I told him you kept all your old kit in that tatty sports bag in the garage. I had just gotten out of the shower and had my robe on, so he said for me not to bother, but asked could he go have a look and grab what he needed by himself. I gave him the key and said he was welcome to go hunting.”
“Did he say what he was looking for?” I asked through my rapidly drying mouth.
“No, but although he didn’t seem to have anything with him when he brought back the key, he said he’d found what he wanted.”
“I’d better go check he didn’t leave a mess,” I said over my shoulder as I headed out to the garage. I almost ran when I was out of her sight. I grabbed the bag off the shelf and delved into the zipper pouch inside. They weren’t there. My treasured pink panties, which I’d kept carefully hidden, were gone. I composed myself and headed back to the kitchen.
“Was everything OK?” my wife asked.
“He’d put my bag back in its place, and nothing else was disturbed.” I said truthfully.
“He’s a bit of a cheeky one though, isn’t he?” my wife commented.
“Why, what did he say?”
“It’s not what he said exactly. It was more the way he conducted himself. He really checked me out when he saw I was wearing a bathrobe. He’s such a big guy that when he took a step closer, I thought he was gonna reach out and rip it right off. It was a bit of a spine-tingling moment actually, knowing he could have rendered me naked at the simple flick of his wrist. I’m glad he’s your buddy. If a huge stranger came so close with the same glint in his eye, he might have actually gone ahead and rip-stripped me.”
This was getting worst by the day.
“If you want me to stop him from calling….” I ventured hopefully.
“No, don’t be silly. It was probably my imagination running wild.”
……………….
That night in bed, I felt my wife jiggling about in her sleep. At least I think she was asleep.
………………..
WEDNESDAY
The next day, Wednesday, when I arrived home from work, I was told Kevin had called around again, this time for coffee. My wife said he’d been charming, but again had been cheeky, and at every chance had stood close, which had made her feel small at his side. He’d said it was a shame she wasn’t still in her bathrobe, having really enjoyed what he saw.
“What, Kevin came inside the house?” A stupid question, as she’d said they’d had coffee.
“Of course I invited him in. He’d brought cookies with him just like he’d promised.”
“Was he here long? Did you guys talk about much?” I fished, as I tried to hide my involuntary shaking.
“He was really charming and quite entertaining, and we talked almost all afternoon. He told me some stories, engrossing and scary, while I was laid outside in the sun.”
“Laid outside in the sun?” I repeated, almost in a squawk. “You were laid out in the sun?”
“Well, while we were chatting, he said it was a shame I wasn’t wearing my bathrobe, so I thought I’d indulge him, and after coffee I went and put on my bikini. Then we went outside so I could work on my tan, and he sat on the lounge just beside me.”
“Oh,” I gulped, “And he told you some stories? No tall tales about me, I hope?”
“No, not really. Some were about college and your name was mentioned, but mainly we talked about him. He doesn’t have any kids, and I told him neither did we, although I’d come off the pill to start trying. He wished us both luck and said he wished he could help, and seemed impressed we were buying our own home. We talked about our jobs and how we all were doing, and what he does for a living. He said he makes his cash, and inferred he’s got plenty, by wheeling and dealing in whatever he can, and something he called ‘medieval stocks and shares’. I didn’t really understand, but anyways, he said it’s his first legitimate job since being let out. Did you know he’d spent time in gaol?”
“No, I didn’t. Did he say what for? He’s always been a bit of a villain.”
“I almost didn’t tell you ‘cos I thought you might freak. He was convicted as a biker gang leader”
I raised my eyebrows in half disbelief. “He got put away just for that?”
“Well, it’s what the gang did, and how lawless they were. That’s why the judge sent him down. They were into home invasions, where they’d break into mansions whilst the folks were still home, and sometimes they’d acted quite brutal. They’d rough up the men and force the women to strip, and lock any children in cupboards. He said they were only in it for the cash and jewelry, and they’d terrorise the owners until they handed it all over.”
“Oh Jeez.” I said, “That would be a gaol sentence.”
My wife continued…..
“Yeah. It really gave me the goose-bumps. But I had to ask… I wanted to know…. were they really that rough with the owners? It was like it suddenly made him angry, and he glared with wild menacing eyes and kinda growled and asked, ‘Do you really want to know?’ Oh, darling, he said it so scary I was literally shaking, but I still nodded ‘yes’, then stupidly covered my ears. He pulled one hand away to force me to hear, then spoke in a deep, sinister voice, ‘Sometimes when we’d beaten and tied up the men, we’d make full use of the women.’ It made my hairs prickle on the back of neck when I realised what he was meaning. So I had to ask him, ask if that’s what he meant, that the women were subject to rape?’ He just looked at me cold and razzed me with a ‘maybe they were, and maybe they weren’t….. or maybe I just shouldn’t tell you.’ Then he let go of my hand and just kinda stared at me for a few seconds, like he was scrutinised me or something. I was too stunned to say anything, so he carried on with the story. He said that if they broke in some place and found a smoking hot woman, then ‘maybe’ all the guys in the gang. I told him I didn’t want to know any more, and he lightened up and said it was all behind him now and he’d gave it all up, ‘But’ he’d said, ‘except for maybe an occasional smoking hot woman’. I jokingly asked him if I was at risk, and he said that because I was red smoking hot, in truth he’d have to say ‘maybe’. But then he just smiled and relaxed and said I was yours and that I seemed content and quite happily married. He said I would only be a ‘maybe’ if you didn’t mind me getting the same treatment. I slapped his arm and said, ‘hey buster, what about me, what if that’s not what I wanted, what did he think about that?’ That’s when he scared me, ‘cos his eyes flared up again and gave me a real angry glare and said I wouldn’t be given a choice. He said he’d do whatever he wanted for as long as he wanted, and his gang would do just the same. Then he burst out laughing and said he was only teasing and I should’ve seen the look on my face. I slapped his arm and told him to stop being such a big bully and an ass. He said he was sorry and was only joking. But then he stared at me again and in a kinda low, hypnotic voice he said, ‘Debbie, you know you are hot, and have your own needs, and deep down, I bet it’s you who secretly wants it’. I don’t know what I was thinking, but like I was caught in his theme, and I stupidly blurted out ‘maybe’. As soon as I’d said that he grabbed hold of my arm and yelled, ‘Stop!’ It gave me a fright, but he said we shouldn’t joke about such things, ‘cos I’d no idea what his gang had been like. He said he’d seen them go crazy when they’d got a hot woman, and I couldn’t imagine the things that they’d do. He said they were complete animals when they got fired up, and things could get way out of hand. He said on one particular night when they’d found a lone woman, they got her surrounded and flipped out their switch-blades and…… I tell you, I started to freak, but he just burst out laughing again. I told him he’d really scared me that time and not to do it again, and thank goodness, he started talking about all the motorcycles and cars that he’d had. But after a while I told him I had to get on with my chores and could we call it a day. He was very polite and apologised if he’d outstayed his welcome. I said I didn’t mind him calling, but today I’d run out of time. He stood up to leave, but then suddenly flicked out his hand and yanked on one of the strings on my bikini bottom and pulled it ’till they nearly fell off. I grabbed it back, but not before he’d had a chance to check out my pubes. I told him off, but he called me old-fashioned and a bit of a prude and told me ….. well, pretty much ordered …. that I should get a razor and shave the shit off. I told him to well and truly get lost, and what I did was none of his business. But then he was really sincere and said he was sorry and didn’t mean to upset me, but that a bald pussy would make me even more sexy than I already was and increase my chance to fall pregnant. That made me flush red, but he said he was speaking the truth and was only setting me straight because we were friends. I told him to stop being such an ass and that he should go, and thankfully he started walking away. But then he turned around and said ‘but you will shave it off, all off for the party, and I know you won’t dare disobey me’. That really scared me, ‘cos he sounded so serious, and I was glad when he got to the gate. But then he turned round with his big, candy smile and asked if it was Ok to call around tomorrow. I know he’d been teasing and only having fun, so I nodded to say ‘that’s OK’…. Oh darling, I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, I suppose that’s all fine.” I mumbled in total dismay.
What else could I say?
……………
His build and his charm made him ooze with charisma, disguising the evil within. But after an agonising internal debate, I decided to just let it slide. He’d said he was joking and hadn’t harmed Debbie, so I couldn’t point to what he’d done wrong. If he’d really done time and I called in the cops on just a lame vague perception, the repercussions were potentially awful. With no grounds and no proof, if I caused him aggravation, it could seriously and painfully backfire. After weighing up all the options, I decided it would be for the best if I turned a blind eye, and forget their whole conversation.
……………
Later that Wednesday evening there was a knock at the door.
“Kevin,” I exclaimed with hidden dismay, “To what do we owe this honour?” I asked as politely as I could, knowing Debbie was sitting in earshot.
“Have you got a few minutes, I’d like you to come around and have a look at something?”
“Well, I….”,
“Oh, come on. Just a few minutes,” he coaxed, as my wife walked up to my side.
Kevin continued. “I just want to borrow your hubby for a while. I want the party to go as planned, so I wondered if he could rehearse something for me. I promise I won’t tie him up for too long,” he said, as he stared down at me full in the eye.
“Of course,” Debbie cheerfully chipped in. “Tie him up as long as you like. My film is coming on TV, one that he hates, so he’d be skulking off to the garage if he wasn’t with you.”
“Thanks a lot, Debbie,” I said flatly, her revelation giving me no other option.