I stood in my dark living room looking out the window, transfixed on the activity I could see across the yard in the window of my backyard neighbor. I knew the routine well. Every Sunday evening at the same time, the light in the neighbor’s bedroom comes on, the curtains are opened, and the performance begins. The first time I saw the sex acts, I didn’t understand what I was seeing. What I was seeing seemed incongruous with every sex act I had ever experienced. After the second time I saw my neighbors having sex, I realized it was a routine. By the third week I had purchased a spotting scope and had it positioned to see enjoy. the show.
As for the two weeks previous, the lights came on at the appointed time. A naked man opened the curtains and then got in bed. The bed appeared to only have a fitted sheet. Crawling to the middle of the bed, he got on his hands and knees, with his knees on the bottom edge of the bed. A minute later a second person entered the room. She appeared to be a woman, as suggested by her long hair, which was braided. She was fully dressed in what appeared to be black Lycra. Walking up behind the man, put her hands on his hip and started rocking back and forth. It wasn’t obvious until I saw her profile. She was wearing a strap-on, and she was fucking the man. After about fifteen minutes, the man turned around and appeared to suck the dildo. After a minute or two, the woman left the room, the man stood up, closed the curtains, and turned off the light.
For the next two months, I never missed the sex show on Sunday. I had become a voyeur. What. I was doing didn’t feel wrong; they clearly wanted people to see their debauchery. I wondered if any of my other neighbors realized what was going on. I wondered about the dynamics of the couple’s relationship. Were they married? The ritual was always the same, but over time I noticed more detail. For example, the man was hairless below the neck. His public hair was also gone. What I thought was his pubic hair was actually some sort of chastity device.
There was only so much I glean from watching my neighbors from a distance. One evening, while watching a spy movie, one of the actors listened to a conversation through a window using some sort of device. A little research taught me the device is called a laser microphone. I investigated buying one, but they were too expensive. However, I learned a trick where you can use a “Wall Stethoscope”, which is basically like a doctor’s stethoscope, but with an amplifier. I found a cheap Chinese knockoff for $27.99 on eBay and ordered it, not knowing if I’d ever use it.
I was interested what was being said during the Sunday sessions, but the idea of sneaking into the backyard and spying on them wasn’t very appealing. I didn’t think I had the balls. I wished I could read lips. The woman was clearly ordering the man around, probably some BDSM shit. Despite my reluctance, I sometimes thought about how I might slip into the yard to snoop on the couple. A few weeks later, my curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to make my way to the window with my stethoscope.
The couple’s ritual always began at the same time, 7:00 PM, and it ended about thirty minutes later. At 6:45, I jumped the relatively low fence that separated our houses and position myself under the window just before the curtains are opened. A few minutes later, I could tell from the light projected across the yard that the man had entered the room, and a few seconds later, the light got brighter, suggesting he had opened the curtains. Hiding behind the wall, I had no way of knowing when she entered the room, so I just waited a couple of minutes and then blindly held the stethoscope against the window. She was already there. I didn’t hear any voices, but I did hear the slap-slap-slap of her fucking the guy and I heard moaning. After a period, I suppose at the end of the customary fifteen minutes of fucking, the sounds of fucking stopped, and I heard her say something like “eat your cum” and a moment later, one word, “clean.” I peeked into the window and thought I might have been seen by the woman. Should I stick to the plan and wait until the curtain was closed, or should I split now, before I got caught. Half-way back to the wall, I glanced over my shoulder, and the woman was standing in front of the window looking at me. I hurried back to my home.
When I got inside my house, I left the lights off and went to bed, even though it was not yet even 8:00. Lying in bed, my heart pounding, I wondered what I had gotten myself into. A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I tried to pretend no one was home. Looking through the front door peephole, I could see it was the woman. She continued knocking at the door several times more, but I went back to bed and ignored her. After about fifteen minutes, the knocking stopped, but it took me a couple of hours to fall asleep.
In the morning, I went to the front door to fetch the newspaper and found an envelope stuck under the storm door. It had nothing written on the outside of it and was unsealed. It contained a single piece of plain white paper with a handwritten note that read:
Peeping Tom, I have video of you trespassing and engaging in perverted activities. Meet me at my place at 7:00 PM this evening or I will turn the video over to the police and press charges.
The note was unsigned. My heart started pounding. I worked in a law firm and could not afford a scandal. It was Monday, so I spent the workday stressing about the situation.
It was 5:45 when I got home from work. First thing I did was go to the living room to look for evidence that my neighbors were home, but all the curtains were closed. I fixed myself a stiff drink and sat on the couch to work on a plan. I decided to simply go to the neighbor’s house at 7 and apologize. At 6:45, I started walking around the block to my neighbor’s front door. Since I didn’t have the address and most of the houses on the block looked the same, I used Google Maps to make sure I was at the correct place.
It was 6:55. I knocked at the door, but there was no answer. I tried a second time, but there was still no answer. Thinking perhaps I was at the wrong house, I started to walk away when the door opened. I woman was standing in the doorway. It was the same woman I had been observing on Sundays. She was dressed the same way. She started the conversation, “Didn’t I tell you 7:00?” I looked at my watch. It was 6:58. Before I could answer, she said, “Come back at 7.” and she closed the door.
I stood on the porch for two more minutes, then knocked. She answered the door again. Without saying anything, she stepped aside, which I took as an invitation. I stepped inside and the woman closed the door.
The woman spoke, “I have very strict rules in my home.” I asked, “And what are those.” She explained, “First, you will show me some fucking respect by address me as Madame.” As my sole purpose was to extricate myself from this shit, I complied, “Yes, Madame.” She then said, “Second, men may never wear clothes in my home.” With what I imagine was a very stupid look on my face, I asked for clarification. “Take your goddamn clothes off you pig.”, was her response. Feeling a combination of intimidation and humiliation, I started removing articles of clothing, first my shoes and socks, then my shirt, and finally my pants. I left my underwear on. Her response was “Are you fucking stupid? What about no clothes don’t you understand?” I reluctantly removed my underwear and stood in front of the woman naked.
Instructing me to leave my clothes where they lay, she motioned for me to follow her. In her living room, she ordered me to stand in the middle of the room while she sat about ten feet away. Studying me, she insulted my manhood, “Is that a dick or a clit?” I didn’t know how to respond. “When I ask you a questions, I expect a response.” Trying to avoid conflict, I responded, “Yes, Madame.” She got out of her seat and walked towards me. I took a step back and she said, “I didn’t say you could move.” Then, she grabbed my scrotum and squeezing, she asked again, ““Is that a dick or a clit?” I winced from the pain of having my balls squeezed while trying to figure out how to respond. Deciding to placate her, thinking she intended to humiliate me regardless, I answered, “A clit, Madame.”
She let go of my balls and stepped behind me. Sliding her hand across my bare butt. I felt her finger trace my ass crack until the tip of her finger was touching my anus, “So, is this your pussy then?” I was speechless. She raised her voice, “Is this your cunt, bitch?” With a pathetic voice I said, “Yes, Madame.” It was obvious where this was going when she said, “You like to watch pussies get fucked, don’t you?” I tried to stave off what seemed inevitable, “No, Madame.” With more anger in her voice she accused me of being a liar and escalated her attacks, “I bet you are a cock whore.” Pressing on her finger until the tip started penetrating me, she asked, “How many dicks have you let in here, slut?” “None, Madame.” She pressed on, “Are you really a virgin?” “Yes, Madame.” Then came the obvious conclusion to the conversation, “Well, we can do something about that.”
Leaving me alone in. the room for about ten minutes, she returned having changed into a lacy black lingerie, but what I was laser focused on was the strap-on she was sporting. She asked, “Do you find my outfit sexy? I want the popping of your cherry to be a memorable experience.” I stood speechless and she walked around me, “Are you getting horny?” She reached down and began rubbing my anus, “You’re getting wet, slut. I can tell you crave my cock.” Stepping in front of me, she held my penis and led me by it to the room I had peeped into. I tried to pull away, but she turned to me, “You’re not forgetting about the video, are you?” She was blackmailing me. “No, Madame.”
Once in the room, her instructions were clear, “You’ve seen this done, haven’t you peeper? Assume the position.” I got on my hands and knees on the bed as I had seen the other man do. Pushing my head to the mattress, she commanded, “Head down and ass up, slut.” Moments later I felt something penetrate me. It. Was a finger, then two and three. My rectum was being violated by a stranger. Withdrawing her fingers, I felt the head of her dildo press against my anus. I tried to move forward, but the woman held my hips and pressed harder until I felt the head of the plastic cock push past the sphincter and enter the rectum. I screamed in pain as she push her huge cock deeper. I felt her thighs against mine briefly before she began fucking me. I wailed out rhythmically as she thrusted in and out. After a few minutes, I started crying, in part because of the pain, but mostly because of the humiliation. She continued her assault on my ass for what seemed like forever, and then suddenly stopped.
“Turn around, slut.” I struggled to sit up. My ass was incredibly raw. “Did you enjoy your first fuck, slut?” I nodded. “Use your words, bitch.” “Yes, Madame.” “Yes, Madame what?” With a defeated voice, “Thank you for fucking me, Madame.” Asking for more from me, she said, “Then show some gratitude.” She moved the tip of her filthy dildo towards my lips. I was repulsed, but she held the back of my head and pushed her cock past my lips, “Suck me bitch.” She forced her cock into my mouth until it struck the back of my throat and I gaged. After a few minutes, she withdrew her cock from my mouth and slapped my cheek with it.
While taking her strap-on off, she said, “You’re a great fuck, slut. I’d like to make this a regular thing.” Humiliated, I nonetheless pushed back, “No, Madame.” I added, “Please.” Raising her voice, “Don’t you like me, bitch?” “I like you very much, Madame.” Pressing further, she said, “And, my cock. Do you like my cock?” “I like it very much, Madame.” “And, what about fucking? Do you like the way I fuck you?” I just wanted to go home, “Yes, Madame.” “Good. It’s settled. I want you to be in this room and in position every Saturday at 7:00. I will leave the door unlocked.” I just wanted to get out of the woman’s house and said, “Okay, Madame.” She smiled, for the first time I had seen, and left the room.
I went to the front door to find my clothes, but they were gone. I found the woman in the back of the house and asked for my clothes. She said they were gone and said, “I guess you’ll need to leave in your birthday suit.” I started walking away and she added, “If you’re thinking about not showing up for our date, remember the peeping tape. Also, now there is a tape of you crying like a sissy while I fuck your pussy.” My lips started to tremble when she added, “Oh, don’t forget to open the curtains before you get in bed next Saturday.
Epilogue
I had been fucked by Madame sixty-four times, every Saturday. It was the one-year anniversary. As I had sixty-three times before, I walked around the block fully clothed, hid in the bushes to undress, looked to see if the coast was clear, then stealthily entered the door at 6:58. Making my way directly to the “Fucking room”, as I called it, I opened the curtain and got into position exactly at 7:00. A moment later Madame entered the room. She no longer took her time before slamming her cock in me. Fifteen minutes later, I dutifully used my mouth to clean her cock. Expecting her to leave as she usually did without speaking, she instead said, “Do you know what this occasion is, slut?” I responded, “Yes, Madame. It is our anniversary.” “That’s right, slut. The Honeymoon stage is behind us. It is time for a commitment. I have gotten you an anniversary present.” Handing me a small package, I found a chastity device inside. Taking charge, she took the cock cage from my hand and said, “Here, let me show you how it works.” Pushing me backwards unto my back, she spread my legs and put the cage on me. She explained, “This is to make sure our relationship is exclusive.” While I had stopped watching exhibitionism on Sundays, I knew our relationship wasn’t exclusive as she was fucking other guys every Friday and Sunday. She concluded, “Next week I’ll teach you about milking. And, you’ll also learn to eat cum like the whore that you are.”