The Bully Pt. 07

John sauntered into the room as if he owned it, which at that precise moment in time was an accurate assessment.

The lighting in the room was fairly dim, but John immediately noticed Lela's silk dress and my belt lying in a pile in the middle of the room. Unsteady on his feet, John walked towards the discarded articles of clothing, and picked up my leather belt. Folding it in half, he held it firmly by the buckle for dramatic effect. My head sank reflexively as I recalled enduring a violent assault with a very similar make-shift weapon.

"Come here, Mark," John instructed me as I slinked out of the bathroom.

I am sure Lela could see the look of fear on my face as I approached him. I was shirtless and the small room reeked of Lela's vaginal secretions, so he must have known what we were up to. Approaching him cautiously I was relieved when he lowered the belt to his side and started to engage me verbally, rather than physically.

"Graduating Law School is important to you, isn't it Mark?" John said cheerfully.

Without waiting for my response he continued his line of questioning.

"That was a rhetorical question, of course," he added coldly. "As many years as you have spent getting this far, I am sure that the last thing you would want would be to come up short of the finish line. You would probably be astounded at the starting salary of recent Stanford Graduates," he continued, his slurred words attesting to his level of intoxication. "Any guesses from the two of you?"

Lela and I reminded passively silent, not wishing to provoke John in any way. Truth was, I knew exactly how much I could expect to receive for my first year's salary, and if I graduated second in my class, I could expect multiple offers, maybe even a bidding war.

"Can you imagine the poor sap who fails the California BAR Exam?" John said with a smirk on his face. "Or the unfortunate guy who can't practice law for some other reason?" he added, alluding to my situation. "I imagine you would do just about anything to be permitted to even take the BAR, right Mark?"

I knew that John held my professional career in his hands and so I nodded agreeably, but remained silent.

"And you Lela?" John added, turning the heat up on my girlfriend. "Are you still willing to do whatever it takes to help Mark be an attorney?"

Lela nodded her head to affirm that she was still playing John's game, although I could see the stress was getting to her as she bit her bottom lip.

"I see Lela took her dress off," John continued. "Did you get my slut wet for me, Mark?" he asked, as he moved towards the two of us.

"Lela is aroused, John," I said, with as much diplomacy as the situation allowed.

"Take her panties off," John instructed me. "Unwrap my gift nice and slow."

I saw the familiar look of disdain cross Lela's face briefly before John demanded an immediate attitude adjustment.

"Smile, Lela," he ordered. "I want to feel as if the most important thing in your world is my sexual gratification."

Spurred into action by his directive, Lela smiled broadly at John, the transformation in her attitude reminding me of the official music video for Aerosmith's "Amazing" in which Alicia Silverstone goes from pouty bitch-face to enthusiastic love-struck teenager in a split-second.

"Good girl, Lela," John said condescendingly, as I reached for the waistband of her panties in order to remove them. "Wiggle your hips, girl. Let me know that you are available for my use."

In Lela's defense, despite being horrified at this latest demeaning request, she remained in character, her smile beaming as she shimmied and gyrated for John's amusement, while I slowly lowered her panties. Even in the dimly-lit room, the sheen around the opening of the crotchless panties was clearly visible as she stepped out of them. This evidence of her elevated level of arousal was due to the fact that I had spent nearly an hour with my face between her legs, but because John is an arrogant asshole, he attempted to take credit for it.

"Look at that dirty slut, Mark," he said cruelly. "I know one that day she will be your bride, but that bitch has been creaming her panties waiting for me to get home to fuck her."

Lela's eyes started to glaze over under John's verbal abuse, and it was apparent to me that she still totally got off on it.

"Assume the position, Lela," John ordered before turning his sights on me. "Do you know what a fluffer is Mark?" he asked with a chuckle.

I think most college-age males were familiar with the term due to our over exposure to pornography. However, a cursory nod of my head to affirm that I knew what John was talking about was not going to suffice tonight. John had enjoyed several beers this evening, and his desire to humiliate and belittle the two of us had surfaced.

"Well?" he said impatiently. "What does a fluffer do, Mark?"

"A fluffer gets the main talent ready to perform, John," I said with as much deference as I could muster.

"Correct," he responded enthusiastically. "I have had a few beers too many, Mark," John said candidly, his speech still fairly slurred. "I might need a little fluffing tonight. But first, I need to take a piss. Follow me."

My heart sank as I realized that John was talking to me. Lela was busy making the final adjustments to her required position, and we made eye-contact briefly as John staggered into the bathroom. Lela gave me an empathetic smile and mouthed the word "sorry" as I followed John's unsteady steps into our shared bathroom. John extended his left arm towards the bathroom wall in order to steady himself, and then glared at me expectantly.

"Unzip me you pussy," he said forcefully. "I am too drunk to hit the bowl."

My hand was shaking as I lowered it onto the zipper of his jeans. Over the years I had known this asshole, he had put me through every conceivable humiliation, but now as I slowly lowered his flies, it seemed like he was going to taken me to a new low. Once his zipper was undone, I still had to reach inside it and fish his semi-erect cock out from within the confines of his underwear. John was breathing heavily from the effects of the alcohol, and was swaying gently as he struggled to support himself against the wall.

As soon as his cock was out in the open, he released the flood gates. John had consumed numerous beers, and the resultant pressure exerted on his bladder caused him to expel his urine with considerable force. I got the flow under control almost immediately, but not before he had pissed all over the toilet seat and the carpet to the right of the bowl. Once I had directed his steady stream of urine directly into the toilet bowl, John began to taunt me.

"Did you ever think you would be holding another man's dick while he took a piss?" he mocked.

I never took the bait, cognizant of the fact that he was easily riled up when intoxicated. After John had emptied his bladder, he looked at me once again with an expectant gaze. I reached for the toilet roll holder but he stopped me in my tracks.

"Kneel," he ordered. "Right there," he added, pointing directly at the damp spot on the carpet.

John knew that I had no fight left in me and watched intently as I lowered my knees onto the urine-soaked carpet. John waited until I was kneeling by his side and then rotated slowly until his cock was right in front of my face.

"Come on then you little fluffer," he said cheerfully. "Get me hard so that I can fuck your girlfriend."

I could see one large droplet of urine emerging from his meatus, and traces of piss all over his glans. I wanted to retch at the thought of engaging in such a disgusting and demeaning act, but fully aware of John's capacity for humiliating Lela and I, I closed my eyes and took his damp cock-head between my lips. The taste wasn't that bad, a slight salty, not too acrid moisture. However, knowing that it was John's urine that I was ingesting made me want to puke.

"My piss is an acquired taste," John said with a chuckle. "Over time you and Lela will learn to enjoy it," he added ominously.

John got off on emasculating me, and moments after he entered my warm mouth, his cock hardened to its full potential. I could feel the warmth emanating from it as I fellated him, and after several moments of forced oral-sex, John withdrew from between my lips and informed me that he was ready to fuck.

"Crawl behind me," he instructed as he entered the bedroom.

I felt like a total pussy as I got on my hands and knees and crawled behind my roommate. Fortunately for me we approached Lela from behind so there was no way for her to witness my predicament. However, because John is a complete asshole, he did two laps of the room with me at his heel like an obedient puppy undergoing training. Once he was satisfied that Lela had witnessed his display of dominance, he scooted in close behind my girlfriend and lined the tip of his cock up with her well-lubricated pussy.

I had done a great job of bringing Lela to the boil earlier, and she had enjoyed several vocal orgasms. Not only was she still wet from our earlier encounter, but a strong scent of arousal was permeating from her sex.

"Like a fucking bitch in heat," John said coldly, as he slid into the depths of Lela's love-canal.

In contrast to my earlier tender, gentle caresses of Lela, John began to fuck her with a vengeance. He wrapped her long, black hair around his fist, pulled it tight as if it were reins, and started to pound into her. I watched on in silence, the only sounds in the room being Lela's grunts as John impaled her, and the slapping sound of his thighs hitting the back of her legs as they fucked. I don't know quite how John was able to get so deep inside Lela's head, but she appeared to crave his rough touch. Once it was evident that Lela was on the road to orgasm, John started to periodically slap her ass, adding to the sounds in the room. The verbal abuse came next, as Lela started to moan and whimper under the sustained assault.

"What are you to me Lela?" John taunted.

"A dirty CumSlut," Lela whispered softly as she struggled to catch her breath. "Somewhere warm to deposit your load."

"Who are you going to fuck next, Lela?" John continued, as if to demonstrate his control over the woman that I loved.

"Whoever you tell me to, John," Lela responded raggedly. "You own my ass."

"You are nothing but a cum-receptacle to me," John told her as he slapped her ass more forcefully. "A dirty CumSlut. I am going to make you get a tattoo identifying yourself as such."

It was the prospect of being permanently branded as "a dirty CumSlut" that took Lela over the edge, and she cried out John's name as she climaxed all over his cock.

"Where do you think is the best placement for Lela's badge of honor, Mark?' John asked me. "Back of her neck. Her labia perhaps? Or somewhere more visible like her forehead. Try explaining that away at Thanksgiving dinner. Hi everyone, this is CumSlut."

Under that final verbal abuse Lela cried out once more, and enjoyed a second, more vocal orgasm, as I watched on in disbelief. Turning his attention to me, John slowed the pace of his thrusts and ceased slapping Lela's ass.

"I was thinking about your future tonight, Mark," John began ominously. "If you are forced to drop out of Law School and re-evaluate your career path what will your chosen vocation be?" John continued as he slowly eased in and out of my girlfriend's pussy. "Bearing in mind that a lot of doors will be closed for a convicted sex-offender."

I swallowed hard as I processed his words. It was as if we were running a marathon and I had just passed the mile 26 marker. With a mere 385 yards to traverse before I cross the finish line, some insurmountable barrier appeared to thwart any further progress. I had endured this man's torment for almost seven years, allowing him to take every conceivable liberty with me and my girlfriend just so that I could cross the finish line. Now with the end in sight, he was constantly pushing my limits, seeing just how far I would go to keep my career as an attorney a viable option.

"Moral turpitude is a tough one," he continued with a flourish. "You wouldn't be able to work in the financial field, in Law Enforcement, or the medical profession with such a conviction. In fact, nearly every job that requires a credential would be off limits to you. Do you think you could work in construction?" he asked cheerfully. "Maybe drive a bus?"

"What else could you possibly want from me, John?" I said with resignation in my voice. "You have already taken everything I have to offer you."

"I just need you and Lela to accept your place," he responded quietly. "To submit completely to my every whim, no matter how perverse."

I couldn't imagine what else John could take from the two of us. Over the years we had accommodated John's every desire, with minimal pushback. What more could we give?

I never verbalized my thoughts but it didn't matter as John was moving on.

"I want to blow my load in Lela's ass," John said as he withdrew his cock from her well-fucked pussy. "Line me up, Mark."

By this time I was so conditioned to obeying this man, that it didn't even seem weird to wrap my fist around his cock. Soaked as it was with Lela's vaginal secretions, it was in need of no additional lubrication, so I lined it up with the entrance to her asshole.

"Help me in buddy," John said through ragged breaths, as I placed one hand on his butt-cheek and exerted a little pressure to ease him inside Lela's anal passage.

Once he was inside her anus, Lela let out a sigh of relief, and seemed to relax her sphincter to allow John to get balls-deep. John had a look of intense pleasure on his face as he began to rock slowly forward, and focusing solely on his needs he issued his next directive.

"Crawl beneath us, Mark," he whispered. "Suck my nuts while I fuck your girl."

It was at moments like this that I truly began to rue the day that I ever met this prick. However, knowing that he held my professional life in his hands I scooted beneath the two of them, and as John increased the intensity and cadence of his lovemaking, I raised my head from the bed and enveloped his swollen nuts between my lips.

"Fuck yeah, Mark," John cried out enthusiastically. "Right there, bitch."

Under normal circumstances, balls-deep inside my girl's tight anal-passage with the additional stimulation of me sucking his nuts, John should have been an easy come. However, with the alcohol dimming his senses and his desire to subjugate the two of us elevated by his intoxication, it took forever. I tried to vary my technique alternating between kissing, sucking, nibbling and licking his balls, but it wasn't until John verbalized his desires that I knew what I needed to do.

"You know what I'm going to need to blow my load, Mark," he taunted as he spread his knees further apart.

My heart sank as his expectations dawned on me but I knew that playing dumb would only delay the inevitable. So, as he continued to sodomize my girlfriend, I scooted slightly down the bed and began to tenderly lick around the entrance to his asshole. John let out a moan of appreciation as I extended my tongue and focused my attention directly on his rosebud.

"Yeah, Mark," he whispered through his ragged breaths. "Get your tongue up in there, boy."

I hated being called "boy" in front of my future wife, particularly by the prick who was currently balls-deep in her anus. However, in an effort to end this humiliating encounter, I forced my tongue through his sphincter until it was deep inside his ass. I encountered unusually light resistance from his anal-ring, and would later learn that alcohol acts in a similar way to a muscle relaxer, when imbibed in sufficient quantities.

I had been forced to eat John's asshole on multiple occasions over the years, and knew exactly how he liked it. Extending my tongue fully and curving it so that the tip brushed against his prostate, I began to lightly graze the walnut-sized gland in a slow rhythm. This was exactly what John needed to get over the edge, and as he uttered the occasional pejorative, he blew his load inside Lela's asshole. I continued to tenderly massage his prostate with the tip of my tongue until John slowed his strokes to an eventual halt.

"That feels great, Mark," he said as he caught his breath. "Keep your tongue inside my asshole."

After John came the room went eerily silent, the only sounds being John's heavy breathing and the noises associated with my reluctant rimjob. John let out a sigh of pleasure and then addressed the two of us.

"Here's the million dollar question," he began, as I continued my attention on his prostate. "Have you ever tried to quantify the difference between the lifetime earnings of an attorney and a bus driver?"

I wasn't in any position to engage in conversation with John, what with my tongue fully extended and my nose pressed against his rosebud. However, as John continued to pontificate, it became apparent that his question was rhetorical.

"If you go from earning $175,000 per year to making $40,000 per year, what is the total loss of earnings over say a forty year career? Although I question whether being a bus driver is a career, and whether you could even afford to retire at 65 years of age if you were forced into that vocation?"

There was a long, pregnant pause as John allowed his words to wash over me and sink in.

"It is probably actually more of a five million dollar question," he added with a chuckle. "And is it enough money to justify enduring one last humiliation? Ponder this as I release inside Lela."

I was a little confused by his last statement of intent, as I had just witnessed John's release. However, I remained passively silent beneath the two of them, my tongue still deep inside his asshole. A few moments later any confusion that I had about his intent was cleared up as John started to urinate inside Lela's anal-passage.

My blood was boiling as the first drips of his piss started to leak from her gaping asshole, onto my upturned face. However knowing that John held my professional career in his hands, and having been informed that each decision I made could potentially cost me five million dollars, I remained passive. As the stream intensified so did my level of disgust and rage. John was obviously enjoying exerting his control over us, but I was just praying for it to end.

Unfortunately for me, his consumption of several beers earlier that evening ensured that my golden shower was a protracted affair. In fact, it was almost one minute later that John, having deemed his bladder sufficiently drained, told me to take my tongue from the depths of his ass. As I lay my head on the bedsheets, which by now were soaked in urine, John withdrew his sodden cock from Lela's anus.

As soon as it popped out from Lela's tight anal-passage, the rapidly softening organ began to droop until it was completely flaccid and resting across my upturned face.

"Clean me up, Mark," John instructed as he began to address Lela.

As I took his damp member between my lips, his critique of Lela began. Several moments later, after having informed my girlfriend that she needed to lose a few pounds, and also needed to work on her level of enthusiasm when around him, John got unsteadily to his feet.

"I am going to get another beer," he slurred as he reached for his jeans. "Why don't you two freshen up the room and take a shower? Wear something red next. I won't be gone long."

You could feel the tension in the room evaporate immediately after John left us alone. I wanted to hug Lela but cognizant of the fact that my tongue had been buried in another man's ass, and also aware that I had been soaked in his urine, I kept my distance.

"You shower first, baby," Lela whispered. "You really stink of piss."