The sky was crystalline and the air smelled new and sweet. The trees were bursting with the growth of new leaves and everything looked green and fresh... a contrast to the dark and decaying neighborhood where I rented an apartment. I was a student at University, and I had just purchased on a whim a book of poetry titled, “The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over the Hills”, by an author I’d never heard of named Bukowski. He’d go on to be a cult hero among disaffected college students and wanna be. "Oh... not yet. I do believe there might be an alternative," thinking ofthe laundry incident of the previous night, combined with their mom'srecent confession over breakfast. "Ok, forget about the diapers for aminute" she tried to clear his head, "Instead, how would you feel if...for the next two weeks, each time you opened your underwear drawer,instead of finding your regular boxer shorts, you'd be forced to pick outa pair of... p-p-panties." to which his face immediately turned. Then he stepped between her lovely thighs and grabbed her legs placing them up over his muscular shoulders.All the fantasizing I had done over the years didn't really prepare me for what I was actually seeing. I thought that this moment would be so special, but when I saw Simon start to push that huge monster into my wife, and I saw her wince as he started stretching her pussy open, the true reality of the whole situation hit home.What the hell was I doing? Here was my pretty wife who I love. A body more red from the various past whipping bruises than his almost nonexistent unharmed white skin. Blinded, his arms permanently bound in the back with chains linked to a pole fixture, his legs free enough only to allow him movements to properly do his job but otherwise his feet’s bound in the concrete of the floor under. Permanent sewer pluming entering inside his stretched anus for his own discharge while another tube is attached to his hard bruised cock also linked to the sewer.
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