That night I watched Luke penetrate Brooke anally, vaginally and orally -- what she later described as "the triple threat" posed by his enormous cock (speaking very much like someone who enjoys being threatened, I might add). But it wasn't only his cock that he used to penetrate her, it was also his fingers and toes.
After he threw her onto the bed, Luke said to me, "Prof, your wife and me shouldn't be the only ones to get some cardiovascular exercise tonight, especially when you're the one that needs it most. Stand at the end of the bed and run in place."
Resisting the impulse to correct his grammar ("wife and I"), which I didn't think would be particularly well received, I simply asked, "Now?"
Luke replied, "No, next month. Of course, now. Get your lazy, fat ass moving!"
Brooke giggled. Feeling ridiculous, I started running in my panties as the two of them undressed.
"Raise your legs higher, up to your waist. If I wasn't busy at the moment, I'd give you some motivation with my belt."
"I'm trying, sir."
Positioned on top of Brooke -- I won't say lying on her, because Luke was in a state of perpetual, frenzied motion whenever he was in the act of intercourse -- he inserted himself in her vagina, and stating pounding her. He pushed her right leg up far back behind her head and placed his large left hand around her throat. I was worried that he was choking her, but she definitely sounded more aroused than distressed. As she started moaning louder he slapped her face four times, alternating cheeks, with his right hand. The slaps weren't hard exactly, but they weren't soft either. I'm sure they hurt, but I suspected they hurt my ego more than they did her face. Though I was to witness many similar scenes of Brooke being degraded by Luke in the months and years to come, I never really got used to them. What sort of knight would allow the lady he cherishes to be so mistreated? What kind of husband could be so impotent as to obey the commands of the man who was simultaneously violating his wife in such a humiliating fashion? Only a truly pathetic and contemptible one, that's who. Me. Professor Walter Rollins. Cuckold.
I felt completely ridiculous running in place with my cock and balls bouncing around in my panties. I was erect at first, but as I grew increasingly fatigued, I grew increasingly limp. Eventually, I got so winded that I had to kneel down on the floor to catch my breath.
This did not escape Luke's attention. "You're tired already? You've been running for what, like three minutes? That's sad, prof. Go in the bathroom and get yourself some water and then get back out here. Hurry up!"
"Yes, sir. Thank you sir," I said, panting heavily.
When I returned to the bedroom, still struggling to breathe, Luke said, "Speaking of my belt, take it out of my pants and toss it to me." I did as he commanded, fearful, of course, that he would strike Brooke with it.
Instead, he said to me, "Now get down on the floor and give me 50 situps." I had managed to catch my breath somewhat, but I'd always been terrible at sit-ups push-ups, or pretty much any other kind of exercise one could think of.