View Full Version : A Cuckolds Diary 19.

Richard P
10-03-2012, 08:01 AM
A Cuckolds Diary 19.

Journal Extracts 20 continued.


By this time I'm used to being given orders at the hotel by both Max and Marie, staff members assuming I'm just casual labour employed from time to time. Occasionally some of the staff discuss the relationship of Max to his PA in my hearing, which I find galling. However it would be even more humiliating if they knew the true situation. What does seem to be common knowledge throughout the hotel is that Marie is Max's mistress and they regular have sex in any room which happens to be unoccupied, a young porter confiding one day how he likes to stand outside the room in question and listen to Max's PA squealing and moaning while he does things to her.

"You can join me if your about next time," the porter said, not knowing I've heard such sounds many times and prompted by many different guys over the last few years.

This evening when I arrived the receptionist, Carol, told me to take a seat as the General Manager was busy. He'd be along later to tell me what wanted doing. I think it amuses Max to keep me waiting in reception, presumably a demonstration of his power. Whatever his reason I certainly find it demeaning to sit there until he deigns to appear. Marie sometimes passes through reception while I'm waiting, barely giving me a second glance.

Tonight though I'd only been waiting a few minutes when Max came out from the back office. He invariably talks down to me in front of the staff and I cringed inwardly when he said to Carol, "I'll be back to sort that paperwork out directly I've given this chap his orders. Follow me Perkins and look sharp, I haven't got all night."

Max grinned to see the way I jumped to my feet and then led the way up the main staircase. As we approached one of the rooms the door opened and my wife came out looking a little flushed.

"How was it?" Max asked her.

"Not bad. He spanked me which was nice."

"What about his cock, a big one?"

"About average, but he knew how to use it," Marie smiled in remembrance.

"Bigger than your husbands though, I'll be bound."

"Obviously. Everybody's cock is bigger than John's pathetic little thing," my wife replied scornfully.

Checking both ways along the corridor Max quickly lifted Marie's skirt.

"You didn't put your knickers back on," he commented, lowering it again.

"No point I've got to be at room six in ten minutes," she replied, checking her watch.

"Good girl," Max patted her bottom to send her on her way.

"Your wife's cunt is a little gold mine," Max told me. "The guy in six will be her third client today."

He laughed at my expression before saying, "I don't suppose you see much of your wife these days, do you Perkins? Didn't know she's regularly opening her legs for hotel guests."

True enough, it must be over two month's since I've had a proper conversation with Marie now she's living with Max.

"I'm fucking your wife a couple of times a day but the randy bitch still wants more, even with Barry giving it to her regularly as well, so she's now working as a prostitute. Your wife's a bloody good fuck but I wonder how our council colleagues would react if they knew you were married to a whore," Max said, adding threateningly, "It wouldn't do your future prospects a lot of good, would it?"

His words sent shivers down my spine but I said nothing, Max laughing as he led me into the smaller of the function rooms.

"There's a small private dinner party in here next month for some of the Directors and you'll be concealed in the Priest's Hole throughout," Max told me, pressing a concealed mechanism to open a panel in the wall.

Actually it was interesting to see the small, normally concealed alcove, dating I believe from the time of Cromwell, and I needed no urging to step inside. On Max joining me he touched another unseen mechanism and the door closed. It was a little claustrophobic in the confined space with barely enough room for the two of us and too dark to see much of the interior. I was beginning to wonder what would be the point of me being shut in here during the party when he opened the hitherto unnoticed spy hole.

"The Managing Director will be present and having seen Marie about the place and told me how much he fancies her I've promised to use her as their waitress for the evening. I've also told my boss that I know for a fact Marie's husband doesn't satisfy her and if he hangs back after the meal there's every chance of her succumbing to his charms. Should do my promotion prospects the world of good. You'll be cooped up in here watching while the guy seduces your wife. She knows what's expected, although not that you'll be watching, and will offer only token resistance, if any, to his overtures."

So, that was what it was all about.

Leaving the function room Max told me he had a little job for me; a store room needed cleaning out, usually the porters’ job, but he was too busy.

"I might as well make use of my unpaid lackey," Max grinned.

Pausing in our walk along the corridor he said, "Your wife's enjoying herself if your not, as she always does when she's got a cock inside her."

We could clearly hear Marie's lusty cries emanating from the room we were outside, room six I noticed.

"Nice to hear someone enjoying their work," he added, my wife's cries intensifying and now mixed with masculine grunts and pounding bedsprings.

We stood listening for a minute or two before Max, pointing at my crotch, said, "I bet you've got a hard on but it's difficult to tell with your little cock."

I nodded and he laughed before telling me to get it out. I looked about nervously but compulsively did as Max said. Then, as if I needed to abase myself still further in front of the vile Max, I began masturbating. I just stood there pumping away with my hand while listening to Marie's cries of joy ringing out from the room where an unknown guy was fucking her. If anything the danger of being caught in such an humiliating activity added to my excitement.

"Sounds as if he's getting his money's worth," Max commented, Marie's cries reaching a crescendo, and I came, his words reminding me that nowadays my wife is little more than a common prostitute.

Flushed and feeling not a little shattered by what I had just done in front of the smug and gloating Max, I stumbled after him along the corridor.

My work in the store room consisted in removing the chairs and tables before giving it a thorough clean. Afterwards I had to restack all the furniture back inside, the work taking well over an hour.

Having been instructed to report to reception when finished I duly did so. Miss Walker, the senior receptionist was on duty by this time, and as she's only just returned from a protracted break and therefore doesn't know me I had the humbling task of introducing myself as Max's handyman.

"Ah right, you must be Perkins. I don't think it's appropriate for you to use Mr Bayes Christian name though. Surname, or better still refer to him as the General Manager in future," she said officiously. "Both Mr Bayes and his PA have left now but he instructed me to give you this envelope, presumably your payment, and asked me to tell you to report to his house at ten-thirty prompt tomorrow morning where he's a job for you."

Handing me the envelope Miss Walker added disdainfully, "Don't be late mind; apparently you're a bit of a slacker Perkins."

She turned away evidently thinking any further communication with a mere odd job man beneath her dignity.

Fortunately I was feeling too belittled at my treatment by the pretentious Miss Walker to be curious about the envelope and didn't open it until I reached my car. Just as well because it contained a series of photographs of Marie, mostly posing on or beside Max's desk, but including one of her sucking Barry's penis.

At home I spread the pictures out on the dining room table for a proper look and felt really turned on by her erotic poses. In most of the pictures Marie wore her smart business suit, skirt high up her thighs as she perched or lolled on Max's desk, but in one she was naked but for tan stockings and suspender belt. Inevitably I released my erection but had only just begun masturbating when the phone rang. I wouldn't have answered but Max's number was displayed and he'd probably know I was home by now.

"Checking out the pics, Perkins?" he asked directly I picked the phone up.

When I answered in the affirmative Max went on to tell me that they're copies of the photos he shows to any hotel guest who he thinks might be interested, telling them she's a prostitute.

"Bait for prospective clients," he went on. "I'm making good money out of your wife's willingness, or perhaps I should say eagerness, to open her legs for anything in trousers. It really excites Marie to knock on a door knowing she's about to have sex with the unknown guy inside and cater for whatever tastes he might have. There’s a sliding scale of charges, anal intercourse costing the most."

Well, despite knowing from the earlier conversation that Max is using Marie in this way, I still felt shocked to hear the details put so bluntly.

"So, have you got a hard on looking at the pics?"

"Yes," I croaked.

"Toss yourself off then."

It was humiliating but I did just that, looking at the pictures and masturbating with one hand while his jeers came down the phone.

"That didn't take long," he laughed, knowing from my gasps I'd come in my hand, surprisingly quickly considering it had only been two or three hours since I'd humiliated myself outside room six.

"What about becoming a client yourself?" Max said.

I listened numbly as the voice over the phone said that for one hundred pounds he'd arrange a session for me, commenting that they usually charged sixty for full sex but I was a special case.

"Marie won't know who's in the room until she enters by which time it will be too late to back out. You'll be a paying customer and she's honour bound to fulfil her duty even if she finds the client a bit ugly or off-putting."

My voice was almost a whisper as I agreed, incredibly erect again, at the prospect of having sex with Marie after all these years of going without. The loud bellow of laughter coming down the phone sobered me up a little and I contemplated the humiliation of paying to have sex with my own wife, to be nothing more than one of her clients. And the worst aspect of all is the fact that it's Max who will be taking the bulk of the money, Marie receiving just five pounds per client so he tells me.
“Of course the slut would do it for nothing really,” he added.

A narrow escape after he’d hung up when our next door neighbour suddenly walked in with the briefest of knocks, a very irritating habit of his which I seem unable to stop. Managed to collect the pictures up before he saw them I think.
The guy commenting that he hadn’t seen my wife about for sometime I had to quickly think up a plausible reason for her absence and used Marie’s Irish relations, telling him she was on a protracted visit to Belfast.


So it's come to this. Earlier this evening I found myself in room nine having paid Max the required hundred pounds. He'd deliberately made me wait, taunting me that Marie was far too busy with clients to fit me in before today, but now at last I was stretched out naked on the hotel bed and wondering what her reaction would be when she found me there. Inevitably I was erect as the appointed time approached, despite the gloating Max having told me that my wife had two clients ahead of me so she might be running a bit late.

When the knock on the door came my voice sounded hoarse as I called for her to come in.

"Oh God, not him!" Marie exclaimed directly she saw me on the bed.

"A paying customer," Max commented, following her into the room.

"I wondered why you insisted on coming with me for once. You knew I'd back out when I found who it was; surely you don't expect me to take that thing inside do you?" Marie pointed disdainfully at my erection.

"Why not, it's not as if you'll feel Perkin's tiny little cock inside you and I bet he won't last long. It'll be easy money. Anyway put on the usual show for him first and we'll take it from there."

The 'usual show' proved to be a striptease, something Marie displays great aptitude for. Not on this occasion though. It was galling to see the reluctant way my wife undressed, particularly when I knew how enthusiastically she'd have stripped for a complete stranger. However I stroked my erection while she divested herself of clothing, until Marie exclaimed, "I don't have to put up with seeing that, cover the horrible little worm up."

A laughing Max draped a tissue over my erection. "See, it doesn't take much to hide his cock."

Marie joined in his laughter while unclipping her bra. Irritatingly it was Max who removed it, leering at me while giving her breasts a quick feel.

I no longer stimulated my erection not wanting to risk a premature discharge, as she continued her striptease. Eventually she was reduced to just her stockings, black ones today, and suspender belt.

"Here put these on before Marie does a dance for you," Max commanded, tossing her discarded knickers onto my tummy.

I pulled the tight black knickers over my genitals, surprisingly excited to feel the wetness of the gusset pressing to my skin, wetness from her activities with earlier clients.

While Marie danced slowly and seductively around the room I refrained, with considerable difficulty, from stimulating myself.

"I don't really have to fuck him, do I?" she asked, coming to a stop.

"Well he's paid the full amount for your services," Max told her. "Still as it's only the wimp I think oral will do. Just suck him off."

I had shed the knickers eagerly but his words brought me up short.

"Yuk, the very thought of that horrible little slug in my mouth makes me feel sick!" Marie exclaimed gesturing disdainfully at my penis.

"OK just give him a hand job then, but squat over his face so he can have a good look at your cunt while you do it. It will be treat enough for a wimp like Perkins," Max said in a condescending tone.

My protests were brushed aside, Max saying he'd give me a ten pound refund! With Marie kneeling over my face, her vulva incredibly close, further protests died away when she took my penis in her hand. Then, wonder of wonders, she cupped my balls in her other hand as she began masturbating me.

"Lot of cocks have been inside that gaping cunt since yours last visited there, Perkins," Max taunted as I gazed wistfully up at Marie's vagina.

Perhaps it was inevitable considering that this was the first intimate contact I've had with my wife for over six years that I should come very quickly, much to her very obvious relief. She immediately climbed from the bed and had no hesitation in wiping the semen from her hand across my face, delighting the grinning Max.

Marie went to wash her hands in the en-suite and in her absence Max told me the public toilets which served two of the conference rooms needed cleaning.

"That will be your job from now on, save me paying a cleaner," he told me. "While you’re doing that I'm going to enjoy myself fucking your wife the way you thought you were going to. In fact you'll be paying for my turn," he mocked.

Handing me a short pink tabard Max told me to put it on but remain naked underneath. Well, the tabard hardly covered my genitals and I experienced a very nerve-racking walk along the corridor as Max led me to the toilets. Pointing at the row of urinals he told me to kneel and give them all a thorough clean with a small scrubbing brush. I quailed in disgust and protested but of course my complaints were swept aside.

"Think it's beneath your dignity do you Perkins, just get on with it. I'm going to take a few pictures of you at work as a future reminder of your servitude, before going back to room nine where your wife will be waiting with her legs open ready for me."

Feeling ridiculous, and knowing I looked it in the short pink tabard, I knelt on the tiled floor and began cleaning the first urinal. With a mocking laugh Max moved back and forth taking photos of me at work on the degrading chore of cleaning the public toilets.

"Now you're even more in my power," he crowed triumphantly. "Your lovely wife's mine to do as I want with and so are you. Hold my cock while I have a piss and then lick it clean."

Despite a feeling of repugnance, when Max unzipped and produced his penis I docilely held it while he urinated, pleased that he used one I hadn't yet cleaned. Max was exultant when I automatically licked all round the end of his penis before meekly taking it into my mouth.

"I'm going to continue using you as the lowest of the low while fucking your wife whenever I feel like it, you ridiculous little man," he jeered insolently, slowly pushing his penis in and out of my mouth.

Dropping his trousers and underpants Max said, "Now kiss and lick my arsehole. It's something you can do once a week to signal your complete submission to me."

When he turned and bent over, pulling his buttock cheeks apart, I'm ashamed to say that I immediately pressed my lips to Max anus. Again his laughter had a triumphant ring to it as I ran my tongue over his anus. It's humiliating to relate, even in the private pages of my Journal, but I began masturbating while licking and kissing Max anus, almost relishing the repulsive guy's total dominance of me. If I hoped he wouldn't notice it wasn't to be, perhaps my hand movements were communicated to him, anyway looking round Max laughed to catch me masturbating while licking his anus. At least he let me finish before demeaning me further.

I remained kneeling at Max's feet feeling shattered by what I'd done while he told me that if I agreed to sign a declaration giving him one hundred percent loyalty, in effect signing over my will to him, he would arrange for my wife to give me hand relief once a week. To my shame I heard myself agreeing all too eagerly!

"You realize that you'll be handing over your life to me," There was a hint of scorn in his voice.

"Yes, I want to serve you and be used and abused in return," I whispered meekly.

It's hard to explain or understand my desire, need even, to abase myself before him; to adopt a subservient role to a guy who, then as now, I feel complete revulsion for. I hate and detest the odious Max but am also exhilarated by the position I find myself in. At any moment he could reveal our secret lifestyle to the world and, given his vindictive nature, it seems highly probable that at some stage he will, but somehow the knowledge merely serves to add a further edge to the excitement I undoubtedly feel to be so completely in his power. Max's abuse and open contempt merely stokes my masochism.


Today Max presented me with the contract he'd mentioned on Wednesday. I hadn't taken him seriously at the time but a copy of the document appended to my Journal, and which I signed with surprising eagerness, shows I was wrong.

I, Mr John Perkins, agree to give one hundred percent loyalty and obedience to Mr Max Bayes in exchange for hand relief given once a week by Mrs Marie Perkins. I also agree to give up all marital rights and will remain Mrs Marie Perkins husband in name only. I willingly agree to carry out all Mr Max Bayes orders, however demeaning to myself, and generally act as his unpaid servant.

Signed Mr John Perkins.


Max's triumph when I signed the document was all too apparent and I felt my heart sink a little.

"Seal it with a kiss," he snarled, "a kiss to my arsehole."

Dropping trousers and underpants he bent, laughing triumphantly when I meekly knelt and pressed my lips to his anus.

"Now I've got you where I want you I'm going to treat you like the little shit you are."

Despite my apprehension of what his words might imply I have to admit to a strange tingle of excitement. It's strange, disturbingly so, that the prospect of complete submission to a guy I've always found loathsome in the extreme should excite me so.