The Bully Pt. 07

Every Friday afternoon I would lock myself back into the cock-cage and give John the key. Lela would show up later in the day, blissfully unaware that I was jerking off multiple times a week. It became our little secret, and John and I bonded over it. Of course, despite our burgeoning bromance, John still fucked the crap out of my girl on the weekends, documenting his debasement of her with his new iPhone, and occasionally leaving me a new glossy eleven by fourteen photo to jerk off to.

My transformation into John's fuck-toy was slow, but as he continued to feminize me, it got to the point where I could almost pass for Lela, especially in dim light. The wig came first, an expensive array of long black tresses, made entirely of human hair, cut from a Native American. The color and texture matched Lela's almost exactly, her Cherokee heritage partly responsible for her waist length silky hair.

Once I had the wig on and I was scented in Lela's perfume, I bore a strong resemblance to her, at least when viewed from the rear. I advised John against any violent hair-pulling, but the third or fourth time that he fucked my ass he got carried away, and pulled my wig clean off. I ended up going to a wig shop and purchasing a dozen high quality wig clips. Despite the instructions recommending the use of six wig clips to hold the hairpiece firmly in place, I used the whole pack. By the time I had attached all twelve wig clips, my waist-length hair not only looked and smelled real, but was able to withstand John's most strenuous hair-pulling.

Next up were fake, press-on nail extensions, which looked just like Lela's, particularly when I applied glossy nail polish to them. It was fairly time-consuming though, and I needed an alternative solution to gain feminine looking hands. John and I ended up going to a cross-dressers' boutique together, which not only solved this issue, but provided us with a host of ideas of how to further feminize me.

John spent two hundred dollars on me that afternoon, between the pre-glossed acrylic press-on nails, an exquisite silk choker that hid my Adam's apple, and a silicone gaff. I had never even heard of such an item, but the helpful sales assistant assured us that they were commonly used by cross-dressers to hide the male anatomy. There were a variety of options available, and they all achieved the desired look by tucking the flaccid penis under the body. John chose a see-through, mesh-fronted gaff with a silicone vagina insert, that not only tucked my manhood away securely, but provided him with a perfectly realistic appearance of a female pussy. When John made me wear it under some latex booty-shorts, it even gave the appearance of a camel-toe.

Encouraged by the startling transformation that the gaff provided, we went back to the store and purchased silicone breast enhancer pads, and some silicone butt-lifter pads. In the right form-fitting clothes, with a push-up bra, I suddenly took on a very feminine shape, and John was ecstatic with my new look.

Make-up came next, along with hours spent watching YouTube tutorials on its application. About two months after he freed me from the cock-cage, under the right lighting I looked very similar to Lela.

As the months went by, John seemed happy to get his needs met exclusively by Lela and myself, and the three of us settled into a routine. Lela was unaware that I was free from the cock-cage five days a week, and I always made sure to get myself securely locked in before she showed up.

Surprisingly, after an extended period of forced chastity, one Saturday morning she said we needed to talk.

"I want us to start dating again, Mark," Lela said sweetly, as John looked on approvingly. "I think you have truly learned your lesson, and it has been nearly five years since you lost control of yourself, and tried to force yourself on me. I have forgiven you, and want us to move forward from it. Starting today, I am going to free you from the cage, and I want you to take me out every Friday night, on a proper date."

After being relegated to the friend zone for nearly five years since my sexual assault of Lela, dating her was a dream come true. I quickly came to realize though, as we sat opposite each other in a nice romantic restaurant, that it would also be an exercise in restraint. Being freed from the cock-cage, combined with the promise of increased sexual activity was just too much stimulation for me, and I was erect all of the time.

Initially Lela thought my involuntary reaction to being in close proximity to her was cute, but after three dates she decided enough was enough and I feared that I was going to be put back in the cock-cage. After a brief discussion, during which I begged her not to put me back in chastity, we reached a compromise that worked for both of us.

Lela took me to the mall and after much consideration we agreed on shaping panties, in the maximum coverage boy-shorts style. Made by Spanx, these undergarments were designed to shape and hide stomach fat. They were nude in color, skin tight, and did an effective job of containment and concealment of my ever-present erection. They weren't particularly comfortable to wear and peeing was a protracted affair and a major hassle. However I was not going to complain as my restroom breaks were far less emasculating than they had been with the cage.

I still leaked pre-cum constantly in her presence, which Lela found very flattering as it proved to her that I found her attractive and sexually appealing. John had reached a point in their one-sided relationship where he no longer complimented her, and didn't put any effort into foreplay. Consequently Layla found my permanent hard-ons flattering and appreciated my attention to her every need.

After a few days of trying to hide my ever-present wet-spot, we modified the Spanx boy-shorts with a self-adhesive absorbent panty-liner. We found that by placing the pad along the front of the boy-shorts my pre-cum would be absorbed and contained within it. Once we had removed the possibility of a wet-spot and all the embarrassment that would cause, Lela felt comfortable with my level of arousal. In fact she actively encouraged my hard-on and the resultant flow of pre-cum through her persistent teasing.

Of course, as Lela struggled to juggle John's rapacious sexual appetite with my need for dignity, there was soon a second modification made to the Spanx. Lela cut a small hole in the rear of my shaping panties, directly behind the entrance to my asshole. She lined this with satin so that John could enjoy the additional stimulation provided by the ultra-soft material whenever he butt-fucked me. The gentle breeze that would waft across the exposed hole was a reminder to me that John could enjoy my asshole whenever he saw fit. John made me wear those accessible panties as a tool of subjugation and in his mind this was more demeaning than just a sex-act.

John still used Lela as he saw fit, often busting a nut inside her two or three times a day. However, as he no longer had any desire to initiate foreplay, the task of preparing Lela for intimacy fell to me. Lela and I would enjoy extended make-out sessions, and as her level of arousal was elevated, she would allow me to slowly disrobe her. As I kissed and licked her all over her upper body, Lela would succumb to her desire, and would permit me to remove her panties and perform oral sex on her.

I imagine that you would get proficient at just about anything if you practiced enough. Over time, through extensive trial and error and sustained feedback from Lela, it got to the point where I could bring Lela to climax with my tongue every single time. If John had been paying more attention he would have realized that I was putting myself into position to challenge him with regard to his ownership of Lela, but it seemed as if he was only concerned with busting a nut inside one of her three completely available orifices. Inexplicably, despite the fact that Lela responded favorably to my extended fore-play sessions, she came the hardest when being abused by John.

At this point in our path to becoming attorneys, our grades were much more dependent on essays and thesis work, with only a smattering of multiple choice assessments thrown in for good measure. Continuing our pattern of the last several years, I did the heavy lifting of our homework, writing two very different essays and allowing John to pick which one he wanted to take credit for. When we were faced with a multiple choice test, I allowed John to copy my answers so he began to get complacent and studied less and less, becoming more consumed with gaming.

John's obsession with online gaming developed rapidly, until it became his predominant recreational activity. Having purchased a Play Station 5 and some high-quality headphones, John would disappear into his own world, barely acknowledging the existence of Lela and I. The addition of Virtual Reality glasses enabled John to zone out the rest of the world, and he would sit with his back to Lela and I, completely immersed in his PlayStation 5. At first I was reticent to make out with my girlfriend while John was in the room, but as focused as he was on his online competitions, we became invisible to him.

Occasionally, John would surface from his three-dimensional fantasy world, and announce that he had other more salacious needs.

"Get my bitch wet," he would instruct me as he stowed his gaming paraphernalia. "I'm ready to bust a nut."

By this point in their fucked-up, one-sided relationship, Lela had a deep-rooted resentment towards John, but she craved his rough touch and verbal abuse. She also continued to submit to him for my sake. Knowing that I was so close to graduating Law School that I could taste it, Lela didn't want to do anything that might jeopardize my career as an attorney, so she catered to John's every whim.

In much the same way that I carried him through our shared educational journey, I took over the heavy lifting when it came to preparing Lela for his enjoyment. Tonight had been no different. I had taken Lela to see a live music act, and we had consumed a couple of drinks which always made my girlfriend more receptive to my sexual advances. As we rode home in the Uber, we began to make-out in the back seat, and by the time we got back to the room that I shared with John, I could smell the scent of Lela's arousal.

Lela was wearing a form-fitting silk dress, and as always, at least when she was on campus on the weekends, had selected a garter-belt and stockings as her preferred choice of undergarments. There was no sign of John when we entered my room, which wasn't surprising as he often hung out in bars until closing time. Sensing an opportunity for us to enjoy some alone time, Lela seemed receptive to my continued advances, so we laid down together on my bed, and I began to tenderly caress her neck and shoulders.

Lela responded favorably to my gentle touch, and as she continued to exhibit the signs of arousal I lowered my lips to her neck and begin to kiss this sensitive area. In direct contrast to John's touch, which these days was rushed and focused on the end game of him busting a nut, mine was slow and sensual. I paid no attention to the end result, preferring to focus on the slow, yet continual build up of Lela's pleasure.

Lela let out the occasional moan of delight as I licked and kissed her neck and the area just behind her ears. Very slowly, in order to keep her sense of anticipation engaged, I moved towards her shoulders, nibbling them tenderly as she arched her back with pleasure. I spent several moments there, even as Lela placed one hand on the top of my head and tried to encourage me to move further down her torso.

"Loosen my dress," she instructed me as she struggled to suppress her desire.

Reaching underneath her, I found the zipper that held the silk dress up, and as Lela lifted herself slightly from the bed as if to convey her consent, I slowly lowered it until the front of the dress was no longer form fitting. As the dress loosened, thereby allowing me increased access to her lithe form, I lowered my lips to her breasts. Lela was wearing a silky push-up bra, which did a wonderful job of forcing her tits skyward. As soon as my lips brushed across her exposed bosom, she let out another moan and issued her next request.

"Take my bra off, Mark," she whispered seductively. "Your touch feels amazing."

I had come a long way since my first fumbling attempt to unclasp Lela's bra, and while I hadn't mastered John's one-handed technique, I was able to reach beneath her and unfasten the push-up bra without any visual assistance. Freed from the confines of the silky undergarment, Lela's erect nipples came into view, giving further insight into her level of arousal. I lowered my lips until they were just above one of the rigid nipples, and blew lightly across it. Lela whimpered softly before arching her back as if to offer her breasts to me.

I didn't take the bait, preferring to continue to tease her, even as she attempted to raise her nipple to my lips. After a few more teasing breaths, I brushed my lips lightly across her nipple, which elicited another moan of delight from her. I teased Lela for several moments before I finally parted my lips and lowered them onto her fully erect nipple. Running the tip of my tongue slowly around her areola until it was glistening with traces of my saliva, I finally engulfed her breast between my lips, lightly biting her nipple as I did so. I pampered Lela's breasts for several minutes alternating between kissing, nibbling, licking and sucking them until she finally asked me to remove her dress.

Lela raised her upper body from the bed to assist me with disrobing her, and as my hands moved slowly down her lithe frame, she lifted her ass-cheeks to facilitate the removal of her form-fitting dress. Clad only in her panties, garter-belt and stockings, Lela spread her knees further apart, another clear sign of her availability to me, and her consent for me to continue. I was still fully dressed at this point, but Lela reached one of her dainty hands towards my stomach, and began to pull the hem of my shirt out from my jeans.

"You have way too many clothes on, Mark," she whispered with a giggle, as I started to unbutton my shirt.

Once my shirt was off, Lela ran her hand across the crotch of my pants, and after ascertaining that I was also aroused, she tugged playfully at my belt-buckle. I didn't need a second invitation, and as she watched on intently, I removed my leather belt, tossing it into the center of the room with a theatrical flair. Lela flashed me an approving smile, and brushed the palm of her hand across my erection, which was constrained by the Spanx shaping panties that I was still wearing. I felt my cock throb as Lela briefly caressed it, and a glob of pre-cum was expelled from its tip into the absorbent panty liner that was affixed inside the Spanx.

Lela ran the tip of her finger across the zipper of my jeans, before allowing her hand to come to rest on my stomach. I was fairly lean by this time in my life, although as Lela gently tickled my abdomen with her manicured nails, before moving her attention to my pectorals, I was acutely aware that I lacked John's physicality. I knew that Lela could see it too, however at this precise moment in time she had but one thing on her mind, and it wasn't my lack of physical presence. Lela grabbed one of my nipples, and using it as a way to exert leverage over me, pulled me towards her.

We kissed passionately for a few seconds, and then directed into her desired position by Lela's firm touch, I lowered my lips to her abdomen. Lela allowed me to lick and kiss the area around her belly-button before placing her finger and thumb firmly on my earlobe, and guiding me into place. Lela still had her silky panties on, although the matching bra had long been removed. She had evidently stepped into her panties after fastening the garter-belt and stockings, a lesson that John had taught her on the night of our Winter Formal all those years ago.

This strategic move would have enabled me to have slid Lela's panties down without any adjustment of her garter-belt or stockings, and now that it was me that would benefit from their easy removal, I was appreciative of John's insight. I never had time to make that decision, as Lela forcefully guided my lips onto her sex, the aroma and moisture of which had thoroughly permeated her silky delicates.

Lela let out a little giggle at almost exactly the same time that I realized the panties she was wearing were crotchless. As she raised her knees up from the bed to facilitate my entry, I slipped my tongue through the wet hole in her underwear. By this time in their one-sided relationship, John no longer put any effort into Lela's needs, and consequently she had responded favorably to my extended efforts at foreplay. In fact, such was her level of arousal that it took but a few moments for Lela to enjoy her first orgasm, courtesy of my rapidly moving tongue. I knew exactly how she liked oral sex, and by sustained and rhythmic stimulation of her swollen clitoris, I was able to bring Lela to climax several times in quick succession. She even cried out my name a couple of times, which was profoundly complimentary.

"Fuck, Mark! That was incredible," Lela cooed as she slowly came off the boil. "I came so hard I was seeing stars."

As we lay together quietly, I felt a strong connection to this incredible woman who would one day be my wife. I could feel goose bumps across Lela's buttocks as I softly caressed them, and I asked her if she was warm enough.

"You are so considerate," she said cheerfully, as she flashed me a smile. "Pass me your shirt."

After Lela put on my oversized shirt, we continued to relax until she had composed herself and gained control of her breathing. Seemingly satisfied, she leaned in for a kiss.

"I want you to make love to me, Mark," Lela whispered seductively in my ear. "You can come inside me whenever you are ready."

My heart soared as I processed her words. Despite our frequent intimacy, making love was a rare treat for me, and freed from any expectations of a protracted session, I had been given the green light to ease inside this beautiful woman, and blow my load.

"I need to pee first," I said quietly. "Give me a couple of minutes."

Even though what happened next was extremely disappointing, when I reflected upon it later I realized that it could have been so much worse. As soon as I entered the bathroom I got the first clue that the evening was going to take a turn for the worse. I could hear John cursing as he fumbled with the key in the lock of our room. Lela flashed me a look of genuine concern as we arrived at the obvious conclusion at about the same time. John had been out drinking and would be looking to assert himself over the two of us.

It wouldn't have been the first time that John, emboldened by the alcohol, put us through our paces, but we both knew that his capacity for violence and desire for retribution increased exponentially with each beer he had consumed. I guess it was lucky timing that Lela and I happened to be in different rooms, even though I was topless, and Lela's dress was lying on the floor. We both looked nervously at the door, trying to appear as if we our interaction had been innocent. When John finally stumbled through the door, he had a vacant stare on his face and an obvious bulge in the front of his jeans.

"Hi baby," Lela whispered seductively, in an attempt to reduce John's aggressive demeanor. "I missed you tonight."

"You look pretty comfortable, Lela," John responded firmly. "Very cozy. I don't think I was missed at all."

"We have just been studying, John," I countered nervously. "Would you like to join us? I was just about to take a shower."