The Bully Pt. 05

Now as I tidied up the room, having just been treated to a glimpse of her freshly-shaved pussy, I was in a high state of arousal. I knew I was going to fold the second I saw her sweats and panties in a crumpled heap by the shower enclosure door. In fact, acutely aware of my vulnerability, I walked away from the pile of dirty clothes the first time. I actually sat on the hotel bed for several minutes trying to think of something else. However, as my thoughts turned to Lela and John, and the fact that they were both getting their rocks off, I justified my actions and went back into the bathroom.

Picking the two items of clothing up from the floor, I placed the sweats in the laundry hamper, before closely examining the panties. Made of very soft silk, they were baby-blue in color, a g-string design and they were crotchless. The material either side of the crotch opening was slick with Lela's juices, and the panties were heavily scented with Lela's favorite perfume. While I hoped that she had creamed herself during our dry-humping session of the previous evening, I also recognized the distinct possibility that she had self-lubricated thinking about her upcoming encounter with John.

Whatever the reason for her secretions all over the silky delicates, I raised the panties to my nose, and inhaled her scent. Lela and I had been intimate once before, an embarrassingly brief encounter, during which she was drunk, and I blew my load within seconds of entering her. Since then, sniffing her juices was the closest I was going to get to her pussy, at least until our wedding night.

It was just too much for me, the combination of being denied release the previous evening, and the aroma of her vaginal secretions conspiring to force me to break the rules. I laid the panties on the bathroom countertop, grabbed Lela's baby lotion and after lowering my sweats, began to coat my cock with the make-shift lubricant. It only took a few seconds, and immediately after I blew my load across her baby-blue undies, I regretted my impulsive action.

Granted the orgasm felt incredible, but I had made some promises to Lela, and masturbating into her intimates broke at least two of them. Cursing my lack of self-restraint, I picked up Lela's soiled panties and the baby lotion, and shuffled towards the laundry hamper. Right as I was halfway across the hotel bedroom, the door opened and Lela walked in.

"Lela, you are back early," I exclaimed in bewilderment, wondering why the hell she was back from John's place after less than fifteen minutes.

Lela approached me slowly, taking in the ridiculous sight of me with my sweats around my ankles, my erection jutting lewdly in front of me, as I held her silk panties and her baby lotion in my hands.

"Did you just jerk off into my panties, Mark?" she asked, as she extended her hand and took them from me.

Any denial would have been pointless, as she had the evidence in her hand and was already inspecting the crotch area.

"I was just so horny, Lela," I pleaded, well aware that I had violated her trust.

"Are my rules not clear to you in some way?" she asked coldly, as she surveyed me with disdain. "Or did you just decide to break them?"

Once Lela was satisfied that it was my ejaculate that was pooling in her panties, she tossed them back to me.

"Put them on, Mark," she instructed me. "And then lay on your back."

As Lela took off her black trench-coat, I slipped into the heavily scented intimates. My semen was slowly cooling and it felt disgustingly slimy as it transferred from the silky panties to my ass-crack. Despite the less than ideal circumstances, I lowered myself to the carpeted floor of the hotel room, and laid prone on my back. Lela removed her Rabbit vibrator from her coat pocket, draped the coat over the back of a chair, and walked over to me, placing her feet either side of my head.

Sinking slowly to her knees, Lela squatted just above my face, ensuring that there was no physical contact between us. I could see her freshly-shaved pussy inches above my mouth, as it peeked through the gap in her crotchless panties.

"John was in a hurry today," she said ruefully. "He enjoyed a quick blow and go, but we never had the time to take care of my needs. It looks like you masturbated while I was gone, so now it is my turn."

Lela placed the tip of the Rabbit against the front of her silky panties, and after locating her clitoris, turned the vibrating phallus on. She stiffened up immediately under the stimulation of the Rabbit, and I could tell that she was already on the road to orgasm.

"Did you suck John off?" I asked quietly, my curiosity getting the better of me. "Is that what a blow and go is?"

"You would think so from the name," Lela whispered softly, as she approached her release. "It's actually just a term for a quickie."

Seconds later, as it occurred to me exactly what had occurred in my dorm room, Lela reached her first orgasm. Judging by the state of the panties that I had jerked off into, Lela had gone to John's room in a high state of arousal, and being denied release had only elevated that.

Lela cried out as she orgasmed right above my face, and the resultant contractions made the first traces of John's semen appear at the entrance to her pussy, which was clearly visible to me through the opening of her crotchless panties.

"You guys fucked?" I said incredulously. "Bare-back? You let him blow his load inside you? What about John's promise to Samantha?"

Lela reached her second orgasm a few seconds after my plea for the juicy details, and a large glob of my roommate's semen was expelled from her well-fucked vagina, through the open-crotched panties, landing in my mouth.

"Yes, Mark. We fucked," she said dispassionately. "John hasn't been fucking anyone else since he met Samantha, so I know he is clean. Shut up and swallow my lover's load, baby."

Lela squatted above my face for several minutes, periodically orgasming, and leaking a continuous dribble of John's ejaculate into my open mouth. There was no physical contact between us, and no other spoken word after she told me to shut up.

When Lela was completely satisfied, she arose slowly, and looked at me contemptuously.

"Stay where you are, Mark," she said before turning her back on me to take a shower.

I could tell that Lela was really disappointed in my behavior, and when she returned to the bedroom, she was clad in just a towel, and her purity-ring was back on her finger. While the towel covered her breasts, it didn't provide much modesty for her lower body, and as she stood above me with her arms folded, I could still see the occasional drop of semen fall from her inner-thighs. I remained on my back as instructed, with the scent of her soiled panties permeating the room.

"I don't want to date you any more, Mark," she said quietly. "You and I are not on the same path, in terms of commitment," she added, as she lightly tapped her purity-ring.

I didn't want to inflame her, but part of me wondered how she could keep a straight face, as she lectured me about commitment, while John's semen was still oozing out of her.

"Lela, please," I begged. "I will change. Give me a chance to prove it. I can go without sex if that's what I need to do."

"You are weak-willed and easily tempted, Mark," Lela whispered, the disappointment palpable in her voice. "I need a stronger man in my life. I am sorry."

I could sense the resolve in her tone as I got to my feet, and as she ushered me to the hotel room door, I pleaded for my clothes. Lela picked up my sweats and t-shirt and hurled them in my general direction, before tossing me unceremoniously from the room. I was stood in the corridor of the third floor of the Holiday Inn, and while there wasn't anyone around it would have been too risky to get naked, so I threw my sweats on over the baby-blue panties and high-tailed it out of there, entering the elevator barefoot.

When I got back to my shared accommodation, it was evident that John had already consumed a couple of beers. He made no attempt to hide the fact that he inhaled my scent as I entered the room.

"You smell like a bitch," he taunted. "Have a beer."

We cracked open a couple of beers, and then John and I commiserated about our relationships, as he was going through a similar situation with Samantha.

"It sucks," John admitted. "I really like Samantha, and it kills me that she dates other men."

Sensing that John might show some empathy towards me, I asked him to let me off the hook.

"Now that you know how it feels, John," I said quietly, "would you consider not dating Lela, at least until we figure things out?"

"I won't date Lela, Mark," he assured me. "I promise you."

"Thanks bro," I responded feeling like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. "I appreciate it."

"That's okay Mark," John replied. "I don't want our classmates to see Lela and I together on campus or at a local bar. I have no desire to rub your nose in it. I will confine my encounters with Lela to our room."

"Encounters?" I asked, choking on the words. "What do you mean by encounters?"

"Sex," John said cheerfully. "I promise not to date Lela, but I still plan to fuck her."

John smirked at me as he proclaimed his intention to fuck my girl on a regular basis, and in an act of desperation, I went for his jugular.

"If you go anywhere near Lela I will tell Samantha that you guys are fucking," I threatened him. "I will tell the Faculty Head that Samantha is fucking one of her students too. That won't sit well seeing as how she is a fucking Ethics teacher."

John reacted immediately, flying across the room and closing the distance between us in a split-second. He had been training in martial arts continuously for the last four years, branching into other disciplines such as Brazilian jujitsu and judo. John's first strike was a perfectly executed round-house kick, which knocked me to my knees. As I knelt before him, he walked behind me and put me into a full-nelson wrestling hold.

Banned in collegiate, high school, and most other forms of amateur wrestling, the full-nelson was illegal due to the distinct possibility of injury. Its use as a limited neck-crank rendered it a dangerous move in most grappling arts, and as John exerted his physical superiority over me, I was powerless to resist.

John lowered me to the floor, and once I was prone, laid on top of me. With his arms locked around my throat, and his entire body-weight rendering me immobile, John threatened me. His rage was palpable as he shouted his intentions in my ear.

"If you mention one word to Samantha or the Faculty Head, I will fuck you up," John said aggressively. "You will rue the day you ever met me."

"Please, John," I begged, as I struggled against his hold. "I didn't mean it. I would never do anything to fuck with your relationship with Samantha."

As John exerted his will over me, and I writhed beneath him heavily scented in Lela's perfume, I felt his cock stiffen in his jeans. A few moments later his fully-formed erection was jutting into my lower back. Fearing for my safety I offered him a truce.

"John, let me up, I promise I will never mention a word to Samantha," I pleaded.

John seemed to consider my offer, and he relaxed his choke-hold slightly, as he absorbed it. A few moments later, as John apparently allowed his little head to take control, he reached one hand down to the waistband of my sweats, and began to pull them down. I resisted him with all my strength but his martial-arts training, combined with his weight advantage, made my efforts futile.

Once my sweats were lowered over my buttocks, John saw my baby-blue crotchless panties, and the visual apparently increased his desire. He stuck his elbow in the back of my neck, which rendered me immobile as he undid the buckle of his belt. I could feel John's erect cock against my buttocks as he maneuvered himself into position.

John seemed in a very high state of arousal as he positioned his cock against the opening of my crotchless panties. For this reason, I was shocked when he suddenly recoiled and pulled away from me.

"Is that blood between your ass-cheeks, Mark?" he asked aggressively. "Or do you have diarrhea?"

If I had been quicker on my feet I would have told John that I had an upset stomach and he would have undoubtedly left me alone. However, because I had been conditioned not to lie to this man, I told him the truth.

"It's a long story, John," I began. "Lela caught me jerking off into her panties and made me wear them as punishment," I added, not wishing to share the story of me being forced to eat his ejaculate from her pussy. "It is probably just a mixture of my semen and baby-oil," I said reflexively, regretting my words the second they left my mouth.

"You are such a fucking pussy, Mark," John said disdainfully. "Lela made you her bitch, and now it is my turn. That mixture will provide me with a perfect make-shift lubricant," he added, as he lowered his full weight onto me and rendered me immobile.

I tried to fight his advances but he was bigger and stronger than me, and as I wriggled around beneath him and clenched my buttocks as tightly as I could, all it did was increase his resolve to butt-fuck me. A few moments later, as he maneuvered his erection through the gap in the crotchless panties, John found the entrance to my well-lubricated asshole, and I felt the tip of his cock push against my sphincter.

This certainly wasn't the first time John had forcibly sodomized me, but the encounter had a different feel about it than any of the previous ones. Firstly, it had been completely spontaneous, as John's initial physical assault of me was in response to my threat to derail his relationship with Samantha. His libido undoubtedly elevated by the beers he had consumed, he was presumably also stimulated by the fact that I wore traces of Lela's scent. The final nail in my coffin had to be the visual of the silky pale-blue crotchless panties that I was wearing, as if I was offering myself to this man.

In addition to being spontaneous it was also a lot more violent than our previous sexual encounters. I can only assume that his intoxication was responsible for his conduct, but as John got balls-deep inside my anal-cavity, it felt as if he really wanted to hurt me. John was unnecessarily rough with me that morning, grinding his elbows deep into my neck and shoulders to hold me still beneath him. Once in a while, as he pounded into me relentlessly in search of his release, he would utter some pejorative and then punch me in the shoulder or the ribs.

I cried out for mercy, but that only seemed to inflame his desire to belittle and demean me, so eventually I remained silent, although I wriggled around furiously beneath him to let him know that this wasn't consensual.

John made me his bitch that morning, forcing himself deeper inside me as we fucked on the carpeted floor of our dorm room. With his full weight pressing me into the floor, and the silk crotchless panties rubbing against my nuts, I began to get aroused presumably from the prostate stimulation that his cock was providing me. Once fully erect, I began to experience waves of pleasure washing across my body. Despite every effort to fight this latest humiliation, about ten minutes later I blew my load across the carpet in a tremendously fulfilling orgasm. It didn't help matters that I involuntarily cried out John's name as I climaxed.

A few moments later I heard John inhale sharply as he sniffed my perfume, and then with a final thrust, he came deep inside my anal-passage. John's orgasm appeared to be extremely satisfying, despite the fact that he had emptied his nuts inside Lela less than an hour before. After he ejaculated he was in no hurry to dismount. Unlike our last encounter, when he couldn't get off of me quick enough, we remained coupled for several minutes. Despite the non-consensual element of our encounter, we had both experienced a profoundly enjoyable orgasm, and we were thoroughly enjoying our post-orgasmic bliss.

Truth be told, I could have fallen asleep at that moment having enjoyed two orgasms in the space of an hour. However, as I lay there silently, John seemed to come to his senses and he called me a fucking pussy. Moments later, when he withdrew his cock from my anus, John struck me once forcefully in the kidneys. As I struggled to deal with the pain, he loomed over me in a threatening manner.

"You ever mention anything to Samantha about my extra-curricular hook-ups, and the next time I butt-fuck you we will have a large audience," he said aggressively.

Animals often display their passivity by remaining motionless in a prone position, and as John zipped up his jeans, I adopted this approach to convey my total submission to him. My complete capitulation to this man seemed to work, and as I remained absolutely still, I heard him crack open another beer.

"You asked for it, Mark," John blurted out after a few swigs of beer. "Coming home all scented up like a bitch, wearing silky crotchless panties. You even had lubricant between your ass-cheeks, for fuck's sake," he added incredulously. "What just happened is your fault."

John drank three more beers as I lay silently on our dorm room floor. He never actually apologized, but as the alcohol flowed he became more conciliatory, and finally he told me to get dressed and informed me that he was hungry. Getting dressed only involved me pulling my sweats up from around my thighs, as my crotchless panties had remained in place during the entire assault. Then, as if we had just watched a movie together, he sat at our small table while I prepared him a sandwich for lunch. After we ate our lunch together in awkward silence, John climbed into his bed, and with a belly full of beer and an empty nut-sack, promptly fell asleep.

After John asserted himself over me, I stayed out of his way for a few days. I left his homework on his bed every day, right after I made it for him. I still did his laundry and kept our shared accommodation spotless, but we had very little conversation. Then three days later, as we returned to our room after class, John apologized to me.

"Mark, while I know that my dominance of you is a necessary component of our relationship, I apologize for my aggression after I ejaculated inside you. That was cruel and uncalled for."

"You raped me, John," I said quietly, trying to shock him into leaving me alone, through my provocative choice of words.

"What I did to you is no different than what you did to Lela," John countered. "Except you got off on it. You cried out my name when you blew your wad, for fuck's sake."

When we framed our sexual encounter as rape, it seemed to make it more acceptable to both of us. John was able to justify his actions as a punishment for my assault of Lela, and I justified it as me being taken without consent, which seemed more palatable than consensual homosexual activity. Plus, John wasn't wrong, I had experienced a profoundly enjoyable orgasm when he forcibly took my ass. And regrettably I had cried out his name.

"It was still non-consensual, John," I countered meekly. "You used force to penetrate me."

"Mark, look at it from my point of view, bro," John responded amiably. "You already told Lela that you are excited about the prospect of taking care of my sexual needs until I get through my probationary period with Samantha. You waited until I had consumed a few beers and then sashayed into our shared living space, scented like a bitch and wearing crotchless panties, for fuck's sake. You invited me to butt-fuck you. You even lubricated your asshole to facilitate my entry."

It was very clear to me that John viewed me as equally responsible for our impromptu encounter, and with no desire to rehash the event, I changed the subject.