The Bully Pt. 06

"Is that the most emasculating thing about being locked up, Mark?" Lela asked me tenderly. "It just seems so degrading to have to sit to urinate, like a bitch."

I couldn't even formulate a response to that line of questioning, and merely nodded my head. Once I had dried my cock-head, Lela knelt before me and locked me back into chastity. As I looked down at her I fantasized about the two of us being married one day, and Lela kneeling before me under different circumstances. Once I was secured, she led me back into the dorm room, where John was sitting drinking a beer.

I felt like a pussy standing in front of him, in my pink lingerie and my glitter-covered high-heels, especially when Lela spoke up.

"Thank John for his restraint, Mark," Lela instructed me. "That could have been much worse for you."

I felt like telling the two of them to get fucked, but under the circumstances, and with John holding my law career and my freedom from possible incarceration in his hands, I acquiesced.

"Thank you John for taking it easy on me," I whispered, almost choking on the words.

"And the CumSlut?" John added cheerfully. "You should probably thank her too, Mark."

"Er, thank you Lela," I added reluctantly, having no clue what I was thanking her for.

"For what, Mark?" Lela taunted, happy to join John's game at my expense.

As John watched on in amusement, Lela extracted a lengthy and decidedly obsequious statement of my appreciation for the two of them. It was emasculating as she led me down her desired path, spoon-feeding me the words that she needed to hear. By the time I was finished, I had even thanked Lela for her timely illness, citing it as the reason for my lucky inclusion in tonight's fun and games.

"I am honored to have been your surrogate CumSlut tonight, John," I closed with, as Lela looked on admiringly.

"My pleasure, Mark," he said magnanimously. "I am going to walk your girl back to her hotel room. Wait for me in your bed. Just the way you are. When I get home I will permit you to demonstrate your gratitude."

Lela let out an excited giggle, as she processed the not so veiled threat of a round three. As I pulled back my bedsheets, the two of them gathered up their personal belongings, including the tube of Anal-Ease, and left the room like a couple of love-struck teenagers.

I was crapping myself as I waited in bed all dolled-up in my pink ensemble. Too scared to even kick my ridiculously feminine high-heels off, I simply placed my feet on top of the covers so that the glitter didn't get into my bed. As I ran through the reasons why John would keep me dressed as his bitch waiting passively in bed for his return, I could only come up with one. John planned to use me once more before bed, and I was expected to demonstrate my gratitude to him, whatever the fuck that meant. I knew from experience that his preferred method of enjoying me was anal sex, but maybe I could talk him into allowing me the privilege of trying to emulate Lela's Klixen-style blowjob.

My ass was already sore from the evening's activities, and I wasn't sure if I could take another pounding. What were the chances of Samantha and Lela being out of commission on the same day, and if it happened again would it be my responsibility to accommodate my roommate's needs?

As my limited options span around inside my head, I focused on my extrication from the predicament. John and Lela possessed very incriminating texts from me to Lela, in which I apologized for a sexual assault, and inadvertently described the attack in graphic detail. While I might avoid a custodial sentence due to my status as a first-time offender, any prosecution would certainly derail my chances of a career in law. The two of them had me over a barrel, and if John showed up in thirty minutes with three of his fraternity bros, I needed to assume the position and make myself available to them. It was an impossible predicament, made worse by the fact that John also regularly fucked my dream girl, and future wife.

As I stewed in my own juices fatigue finally set in. I had endured a terrible encounter with John, and under the circumstances, I guess it was not surprising that I fell asleep. When I awoke it was five in the morning and it was evident that I was off the hook as far as John's sexual needs were concerned. I kicked my heels off, and fell asleep in my silky lingerie.

John never came home that weekend, and I can only imagine that he spent most of Saturday and Sunday balls-deep in my girl. It seemed like Samantha's unavailability due to illness shifted the responsibility for his sexual needs to Lela and I. I did the heavy lifting on Friday night, taking two of John's loads in my anal passage, as he sought to erase the fact that Samantha was absent for their regular Friday night hook-up. It appeared that Lela stepped up for the rest of the weekend, providing John with three fuck-holes in which to drown his sorrows.

As the hours drifted by, I came to terms with the fact that John was using my girl as his fuck-toy, and the reality of my situation cut me to the core. I truly loved this woman, and intended to make her my bride and start a family. I was fully prepared to join a prestigious law firm after I got my license to practice, and if I had to work eighty hours a week to provide Lela with the life that she deserved, I was okay with that.

John however, wanted all of the fun, without any of the effort. Blessed with an impressively-sized member, some otherworldly stamina, and unbelievable talent in the oral-sex department, John had his pick of the chicks at our college. So, it shouldn't have been surprising to me that when he set his sights on my girl, she surrendered to his charms immediately, making herself completely available to him, for whatever he desired.

Years later, shortly after Lela and I were married, she opened up to me about some of the things that John had subjected her to as a young college co-ed, and despite applauding her honesty, the revelations made me sick to my stomach. One night, after several glasses of wine, Lela was particularly forthright and as I listened on in horror, she catalogued the demeaning encounters that she endured. I knew from personal experience that John had enjoyed unfettered access to all three of Lela's orifices, had been gifted unlimited blow-jobs, had tit-fucked her on numerous occasions, blowing his load across her face as she lay passively beneath him. However, I had no clue that John had forced Lela to eat Amanda's ass, before enjoying a two-girl blow-job in the glass shower enclosure. Or that John had fucked my wife in the ass, and then after his cock softened, had pissed in her anal-passage.

Lela told me that this wasn't their only foray into piss-play either. I would later learn that John urinated on my wife numerous times in the shower after we graduated college, reveling in the fact that she would return home to me soiled by another man.

Several drinks later, as her stories burrowed into my skull, I finally reacted.

"Lela, you were a fucking slut before we got married," I blurted out. "You disgust me."

I could tell by the crestfallen expression on her face that I had hurt her deeply, and from that day forward Lela, under the impression that I hated her slutty behavior, severely restricted my sexual options, limiting me to the missionary position, hand-jobs, and heavy petting.

Of course, no such restrictions had been placed on John when we were roommates in college. By the time he returned to our shared accommodation late on Sunday night, he took a quick shower and then crashed out on his bed. Apparently he hadn't slept much during his time with Lela, and fourteen hours elapsed before he emerged from his deep slumber, well-rested and completely unapologetic for his subjugation of me.