Trying To Relate

The look that I gave him was more than one of amazement. It was uncanny. How could he possible know so exactly everything that I had done unless by means of some fantastic surveillance equipment that I had never heard of? He laughed complacently saying, "Don't fret yourself Charlie, I know every thought that you've got in that tiny mind of yours."

This was total and abject defeat. How could I ever hope to resist him, knowing that he was inside my head? I never mentioned condoms to Fiona and nor did I ever check her knickers again. Life went on but I think the knowledge that other men were shooting their sperm inside my wife made me find even greater solace sucking my tormentor's organ. I was two or three weeks later when, just as he was leaving Mathew said, "I've got a mind to fuck your wife myself. Fix it up for me Charlie will you."

For the first time I had a chance to laugh at him. "You know how much she charges - I doubt if even you can afford to pay that much."

"I wasn't planning on paying," he said. "Hell - you don't charge family."

"Family?" I repeated.

"Yes family. You've swallowed so much of my cum that it must make us some kind of blood brothers."

I was still amused. "I don't think Fiona will see it like that."

"I don't give a fuck how she sees it," he snarled. "Either I fuck her or I fuck you - it's as simple as that. Take your pick."

I felt numb and just stood staring stupidly at him. Mathew stepped forward and put his arm comfortingly round my shoulder. "Have a word with her Chas," he said softly. "Persuade her, I know you can do it. Remember - it's in your own best interests."

I was between a rock and the proverbial hard place. The idea of allowing that foul fiend anywhere near my wife was anathema to me but on the other hand I was terrified at the prospect of being buggered. From somewhere I had gained the impression that it was an agonising experience and I always did have a low pain threshold. I fought a mental battle for hours struggling to decide what I should do, swaying first one way and then the other. In the end cowardice won and I passed on Mathew's message. As expected my wife rejected his request out of hand. I was relieved that my weakness had not exposed him to her because I knew that Fiona would be forever tainted in my eyes once she had been with him. At the same time I was possessed by a terrible fear, knowing what lay ahead of me. During the rest of the day I managed to convince myself that, being able to read my mind, Mathew would know that I had asked my wife. Therefore, knowing that his rejection was not my fault, he would be unlikely to enact the threat he had made.

At bedtime, Fiona suddenly said, "I'll go with your friend if you really want me to."

You will never know how much I was tempted. It was the wording of her concession that saved me - how could I possibly let her think I wanted her to let that vile man fuck her? I took a deep breath and said, "No - it doesn't matter." I would face the consequences.

Immediately, I had spoken part of me regretted having rejected her offer for I was terribly afraid of what lay ahead of me. I lay awake for hours and the fear kept urging me to wake my sleeping wife to tell her that I had changed my mind. One previous occasion when kissing Fiona goodbye as she left, my mind was full of what would be happening to her while she was away but now my mental preoccupation was totally on what was going to happen to me. For better or worse I had only a few minutes more solitary dread before Mathew was standing outside the door.

Usually he walked straight in but this time he stayed where he was but giving me an expectant questioning look. I shook my head. "I asked her but she said no."

His face darkened in anger and now he strode into the house, pushing roughly past me. "You've let me down Charlie," he said reproachfully. "You may have asked but you didn't try to persuade her. I know that she would have done it with me for your sake if you had begged her to. You didn't want me to fuck did you? You couldn't bear the thought of my cock up your lovely wife. God knows why when you are happy to let any shitty toe rag screw her if he's got money."

I had no defence so I said nothing. "You know what this means Charlie - I warned you," he went on. "I'm determined to fuck someone in your family and it looks as if you've nominated yourself. I really ought to make you suffer, have you really screaming in agony - you've asked for it, you really have."

While talking, Mathew had got his cock out, so following ritual rather than with conscious thought, I sank down before him and opened my mouth. Usually when his stream of urine had finished, I ran to the bathroom, partly because providing this service invariable made me want to empty my own bladder - and partly to swill my mouth with clean water. This time I felt unable to move and what started as a small tremble became an ague that consumed my whole body.

My friend was suddenly concerned. Reaching out he squeezed my shoulder reassuringly, saying, "Come on Chas, it's not that bad. I'll break you in real easy I promise - why would I want to break my new toy first time out. I shouldn't have tried to frighten you. I'm not saying that it won't hurt but it's bearable and you only get that the first once or twice anyway." As he was calming me, Mathew had managed to get me sitting on the settee and he then got whiskey from my cabinet and pressed a large glassful to my lips. I had drunk half of it before I felt myself relax. Gently Mathew removed the glass from my hands, "Save the rest for later," he said. "We don't want you passing out and spoiling it."

Then, numbly following his instructions to the letter, I undressed and from the jar that he handed me I smeared plenty of grease on my rectum, 'pushing as much as possible up inside'. I then had to smear some on his penis, which frighteningly seemed both thicker and longer than I remembered. He than had me bend over the armchair and then moved round behind me. I held my breath and tensed. It did hurt one hell of a lot - but less than I had expected. Mathew had obviously buggered a virgin before because he proceeded with surprising sensitivity, pushing hard when he needed 'to be cruel to be kind' and at other times pausing while my body acclimatised to the intrusion. I did not enjoy this first time but then neither was it such a terrible experience. After the initial discomfort and strangeness wore off, the nearest that I got to pleasure was a kind of warm glow.

After that night he fucked me every time. For the second occasion he was again gentle and I enjoyed it better, possibly because I was more relaxed, and after that I began to experience a new and wonderful pleasure. The moment that I cum in normal sex there are a few seconds of absolute ecstasy. Well, when being sodomised, I got a feeling very like that which lasted for minutes at a time - I actually often did ejaculate just from the sensation of his cock moving inside me. Our fuck, as well as the pleasure also replaced the second longer blow job and saved me an aching jaw. There were big mental benefits too. For a start it seemed to even the score with Fiona and the fact that she was screwing other men didn't seem to matter anymore. The twisted feeling in my gut came back on Wednesdays when I sat home alone just imagining her being fucked. So on Friday I dreaded Mathew arriving at the house because of the unpleasant things he made me do but at the same time I dreaded that he wouldn't come because I needed him to fuck me for my peace of mind. This doesn't make me gay - at least I don't think it does.

There was some general improvement. I used to get all on edge waiting for him to find a reason for me to be punished. One evening, knowing that I was going to finish up licking him anyway, I just started to do it without being told. He liked me doing it on my own initiative and let me do it how I liked and I got away with doing less. After that it was not a punishment as such because I just did it whenever I thought he was getting ready. Once, for some reason I sucked his nipples. He loved that and wanted it every night so I spent even less time French-kissing his rectum. I did try to take advantage of his easier attitude but when that happened he just said, "You can do it all again from the start and this time don't cut corners." It was still possible to get away with a shorter time if I made it especially nice for him - and by this time I knew what he liked best.

I had really adjusted to the situation when Fiona got raped. The police woke me in the early hours of the morning and took me to the hospital. I felt very guilty enjoying myself with Mathew while that fiend was doing that to her. Maybe you think that because Fiona got fucked for money being raped wouldn't bother me as it would if she was a normal wife. I know that it tore me apart. I never thought that I was racially prejudiced but when I heard that it was an Arab, it made me physically sick. The thought of her opening her legs for a dirty filthy foreigner was almost more than I could bear.

I rang Mathew and told him that my wife had been attacked. When he knew she would be at home for a month he agreed not to call but made me promise to let him know as soon as she returned to work. It was so nice to go back to living how we used to. With Fiona no longer selling her body, I found that I had no need of Mathew to compensate - OK I missed it a bit but there was no real need. She had rather lost her nerve and talked of packing up her agency work. I took her too much at her word and built my hopes up too high. When she did go back, I was very disappointed. However, during that month break I had got Mathew out of my system and I made no effort to contact him. I finished up very depressed. This was a combination of the despondency at my wife again having sex with other men again and the increasing worry that Mathew would inevitably come knocking on the door sooner or later.

I was so pleased when Fiona told me that she was taking another week off work, possibly two. I took this as a sign that she was still disillusioned with her means of earning money and I quickly started entertaining hopes that she would never do that sort of work again. Filled with optimism, I was wishing the night away until it was time for bed when the phone rang. It was Mathew and the sound of his voice cut right through my happy mood. "Your wife has started working again hasn't she?" he said in a voice that had regained all the old nastiness.

"No," I said feeling that he must be as aware of the lie as I was.

"Don't lie to me Charlie, I happen to know for a fact that she has. I'm coming round."

"No," I said again and the panic in my voice must have told him that I was not alone.

"Then you come round here to my place."

"No,"

"Charlie, if you're not round here inside twenty minutes then I'll visit you," he threatened. "If the lovely Fiona is at home I can let her know how very friendly you and I have become - we could even give her a demonstration."

Without any real option, I made an excuse and went out to the car. I drove round to his house dreading the prospect of starting all that stuff again - but I must admit that there was an element of excitement in there as well. I walked up his unfamiliar path and rang the bell. Nobody answered so I knocked and this time Mathew quickly answered the door. "Welcome stranger. Come into my parlour," he said in a peculiar tone of voice, standing aside to allow me to precede him down the hall to a door at the end.

I pushed open the door and froze because sprawled in armchairs facing me were two men. If I say 'football hooligan' it will give a quick picture. Both had shaven skin-head haircuts, both were wearing T-shirts with cutaway arm holes and both were clutching cans of lager. I got the impression that this pair of hard looking males were in their late twenties. The whole situation shouted trouble so I tried to retreat back through the door but Mathew coming up behind pushed me further into the room.

Forced to reappraise my situation, I looked again at the two hefty unexpected guests. Ominously both had expectant looks on their faces. "It's about time that you met my mates Charlie - I've told Chuck and Kevin all about you," said Mathew moving casually round to my side. "I want you to show them how you like to say 'Hello' to me - they don't believe it."

I looked down and was not surprised to see that his cock was hanging out. I did not move - for some reason doing that seemed worse in front of an audience. "Come on I'm bursting," my one time subordinate snapped commandingly. "And don't go spilling any like you do at home - I'm a bit more particular about my carpet."

I sank to my knees and completed the familiar act of debasement but when I tried to stand up, wondering where his bathroom was, he pushed me back down saying "Kev and Chuck will want a turn. Everything that is mine is theirs." I had realised that from the moment that I had stepped into the room.

Both of his companions got eagerly to their feet, undoing their flies as they walked to where I was kneeling. Mathew held up his hand to stop them. "Better get your kit off first Chas. These goons have been drinking and their aim never was much good."

I submitted to two more streams of piss being directed down my throat and then got shakily to my feet. "It's top of the stairs, straight ahead." Mathew gave me the required information but then added, "Don't be long - I want to get the real show on the road.

During this short respite I relieved myself and then used a towel to dry face, neck and chest.

I then hid the towel under another, knowing that I had just provide a prime reason for punishment. Then very slowly, I descended the stairs preparing myself for what lay ahead.

The following hours, five of them, passed much as you would expect. I was surprised by the rate of recovery displayed by my abusers and suspected that all three must have been on Viagra. I did find interest in coming into contact with two new cocks. One was bigger than Mathew's but circumcised, the other shorter but making up in thickness what it lacked in length. I did not actually connect cocks to names for during the whole period they were either presented to me for sucking or stuck up me. There were also marked differences in the cum taste from the three different sources when I had expected it to be more or less the same.

Everything started when Mathew asked his pals if they would like to be sucked off and then, while I was attending to the first volunteer, he greased me up and embedded his cock inside my rectum. At first my body actually welcomed the sensations that it had been denied for six weeks and I continued to experience pleasure for a while, but by the time I was allowed to leave I felt rather numb and decidedly sore back there. For most of that long period I was servicing two of the trio at the same time with the third taking the short rest that was denied me. My original seducer did not forgo the pleasure of having his arse licked, which of course prompted his uncouth companions to demand their turn. I found that they did not keep themselves as clean, but once you have reached a certain state of degradation, repetition inures you to almost anything.

When I got home, I spent a long time sitting on the toilet and then had a cleansing shower. The way that I felt, I might have actually been asleep before falling into bed. Next day, Fiona didn't ask what Mathew had needed to see me for but she kept giving me very funny looks.

Late in the day she asked if I was terribly unhappy about her agency work. I said that I was - but my problem was more that I could not cope with the whole situation that I was in. Over the months I had become acclimatised to Mathew but I guessed that his two friends would now want to be part of the action on a regular basis. I knew that I couldn't handle another session like the one I had just experienced. So when my wife asked if we should seek help and advice, it was like finding a doorway leading out of hell.

Charles stopped talking and from the way he relaxed and looked for my response, I knew that he had finished his story. What he had described was totally foreign to my experience so I had to make my first question tentative, "Having picked up a taste for, shall we say 'alternative sex', do you think you will be able to manage without it in the future?"

He nodded confidently. "I have lived all my life up to this last year without giving men a single thought, when you have sorted our problems out, I'm quite sure that I can return to exactly how I was."

This was too glib. Making my voice deliberately doubtful I said, "A man can live many years before problems cause him to take his first fix of heroine. If this then becomes a habit for any length of time then he will continue to be an addict even though his original problems might have been resolved."

Charles smiled for the first time. "That is a good point but it doesn't apply to me. Letting myself enjoy gay sex was only a survival strategy to cope with a situation that was imposed upon me. Using your analogy, a man forcibly injected with a drug has more motivation to resist any subsequent craving than the man who started voluntarily."

I did not believe this for one moment but I let it go. Charles had been very thorough with his story leaving no points that needed further elucidation so I bought the interview to a close and escorted a very mixed up man to the door of my office. As he was about to turn away I found myself asking, "How do you explain what happened to you."

"Some kind of hypnotism - it's got to be," he said. "I do know that I had no will of my own. I could not stop myself from going everything that he wanted."

I spent a long time pondering what I had been told in these two very diverse interviews and in the end finished with the same basic conclusions that I had at the start. Charles admitted to enjoy engaging in the sexual activity with his male associate but claimed to hate the demeaning licking activity that was forced upon him. However, I had a strong suspicion that he also derived a masochistic pleasure from the debased uses to which he had to put his tongue. If any think this last is a fanciful flight of imagination on my part, I can only say that you didn't hear the relish with which he related those parts of his experience. I believe that he had fully accommodated to his wife's new occupation and would have been happy to continue with the situation had it not escalated, removing what little control he had retained.

It was very obvious that Fiona thoroughly enjoyed her work and had only reluctantly halted through fear of losing Charles to another woman. Without divulging the truth I was confident I could set her mind at ease on that score but that would only leave her free to return to the life of prostitution for which she was so well designed. No matter how I solved their problems, I was also sure that Fiona could never return permanently to the marital fidelity that they had enjoyed before the job calamity hit them. At this point I will admit there would be bias in the solutions I suggested because I saw a good chance to cut myself a small slice of the action.

I had done this kind of thing before from time to time over the years but excused myself on the principle that there were perks of a sort in every job.

I spent a busy fortnight, making phone calls, doing research and visiting some places in person. When everything was complete, I called Charles and Fiona back to my office. Previously I had given them instructions to disconnect the telephone and not to answer the door so they arrived in my office having emerged from two weeks of isolation. I could see they had put this interval to good use rebuilding their relations because both were noticeably more relaxed. Fiona had no flesh on display this time but her skin-tight trousers, figure hugging angora sweater and stiletto heels could have raised the dead - and by that I mean just one part of the deceased's anatomy.