The Bull

"We need to talk, Stephen," John was saying into the phone.

"I'm not sure that we do," Stephen replied.

"Stephen, I've already talked to Melanie, she's down for it."

What John was not telling him was that Melanie and he talked every day. At this point it was a ritual that the two of them enjoyed, they had become friends. John would demand to know if Melanie had provided Stephen with any sexual satisfaction, and she would reply that she hadn't. They would talk about other subjects, and John would subtly reinforce his control over her in ways, having her perform simple tasks for him, things like that.

Not that she minded: she was growing to love the satisfaction she got by completing an assignment from John. And she wasn't resisting his control over her.

John had forbidden her to orgasm without his express permission. But he would make her wet with his words every day, tell her what a good girl she was being, how hard she made his cock. He had made her email him some photographs that were very specific in nature. He explained that her obedience to his words was more sexy than any other thing, and he would sometimes look at them and pull on his cock until he came, then tell her thank you and hang up.

This never failed to make her pussy a panty soaking mess. But she obeyed, and didn't cum.

And when she was allowed to beg and cum, she did.

"We'll all talk, Stephen. Get everything out in the open. OK?"

Stephen sighed. "OK, John. We can talk. Friday it is."

John laid back, and pulled his shorts down. His heavy cock slapped hard against his belly. He gripped it with his hands, and pulled on it.

I already have the wife, he thought. Soon I'll have the husband. Two little slaves for me.

John's cock head flushed to a dark purple, the skin pulled taut as he stroked himself.

The bastard has no idea how I'm going to humiliate him, John was thinking, as he began to shoot thick streams of semen all over his hairy belly. Humiliate him for making me work for it.

On Friday, John arrived, and was invited in. He took a seat while Stephen and Melanie sat together on the couch. Nobody was saying anything.

John asked if they had any beer, and Stephen was surprised to see Melanie pop up and get him one. She yelled from the kitchen did he want a glass with that. He didn't.

And so she brought him a Heineken, and sat back down. John already knew that it would be a Heineken.

Stephen felt a little differently about the beer. He'd been seeing it in his refrigerator for some time now, and each time he did he felt a little funny. He didn't drink it... he preferred wine... and he didn't throw it away.

He just felt a little funny when he saw it in there.

"So, Stephen, thanks for having me over."

"Sure, John. Look, about the other day..."

But John held up a hand.

"Here's the thing, Stephen. I want you. I want the both of you. I want to have complete control over the both of you."

Stephen was dumbfounded. It was a one time thing... never to happen again. Right? Could John really be saying this? Stephen looked to his wife, but she was just sitting there, listening as if this was normal, her hands folded in her lap. When she did look to her husband, she smiled and nodded reassuringly. What did that mean?

John continued, "Your lives will be the same, basically, as they are for the most part. Except that the two of you will have a new Master who will periodically want things from you. I'll want to talk to you both, same as I do with Melanie every day now."

Stephen looked at his wife, shocked at that. He didn't know they had been talking, not nearly that much. Melanie just looked back at him, no real expression on her face.

"She's my wife, John..."

But John cut him off again.

"And she always will be. She loves you. I don't want to marry her, or you, or you both, or move in here. Nothing about that changes."

John got up, and walked over to the couch, and sat down between them. He put his hand gently on the couple's shoulders. For Melanie, the touch was ecstasy... for Stephen, he recoiled from it.

John sighed, and put his hands back in his lap.

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this," he said, and with a quick motion, reached over and grabbed Stephen's dick. He leaned in, and put his face close to Stephen's, who looked away, his face disfigured from the pain.

"Now you listen to me, Stephanie," he said, but then he turned his head and said simply, "Melanie. Mouth."

Melanie leaned forward, and put her head in John's lap, and started to undo his belt.

John turned his attention to Stephen again.

"We can do this the hard way, or you can just submit now, Stephanie. I don't care either way. I know you want to be what I want you to be, and you're going to be it one way or the other. It's already been decided."

Stephen had been out for a run, and John pulled his shorts down a little bit. John lifted his hips to allow Melanie to slide his pants down a little bit as she got her lips around his cock.

John changed his grip on Stephen's dick. He kept one hand on Stephen's testicles, but his other hand began to gently stroke Stephen. Stephen was looking away, looking away from what was happening to his own penis, away from his wife sucking the other man. John pulled Stephen's shorts down.

"That's it, Stephanie. Your little dick knows what it needs. It hasn't squirted in a while, and do you know how I know that? Because I forbade it. I told your wife not to make you cum."

Now Stephen looked at John. He was amazed at how much had been happening without his knowledge, how far it had gone.

And he realized how hard he was in John's hands. John was still stroking him gently, and Stephen felt powerless in John's hands. John dropped his other hand from Stephen's testicles.

The pressure gone, John's hand had a firm grip on Stephen's dick. John was pumping his dick up and down. It wasn't a hard grip... in fact it was gentle and just right... but it might was well have been a grip of steel. There was no force in the world greater than the one that was pulling on his dick, making it hard, making it feel like it was absolutely where it needed to be.

"That's it, Stephanie," John was saying. "Just give in to it... your wife already has. You can hear her slurping at my cock, she knows how good it feels to obey. Now I want you too... I want you to cum. I want you to cum on my hand."

Stephen was lost to his own pleasure. He needed to cum so bad. He whimpered as his cock was being pumped... he wanted to explain, I just need to cum. I need to cum so bad. It's been so long, please, I just need to cum. Once I cum, I'm sure we can all sort this out, I'm not a slave, I'm a married man, a lawyer, who likes pussy, my

wife's

pussy, please let me cum, I'm not a slave...Stephen leaned forward, all he could think about was cumming, he was about to press his lips to John's chest.

"No, Stephen!" John yelled. "I'm not your fag boyfriend. I don't want to dance with you. Just sit back, submit, and cum for me."

Stephen sat back into the couch. It felt so good, he just wished that John was a little nicer to him, that John would understand that this wasn't

him

, it's just that it felt so good. He needed to cum so badly, words couldn't describe how badly even if he could get his mouth to do more than whimper, there was no other thing he needed to do except to do what he had been told and cum in this man's hand. He began to realize, to his horror, that it was happening again. And that this time, there might not be any turning back.

Stephen's dick didn't care. It didn't care if there was any turning back or not, it just stiffened, and began to cum. It shot all over John's hands, and his forearm, and up to John's elbow. Stephen had been backed up, hadn't had any release in so long, he slumped over, stunned from his own orgasm at the hands of a man who wanted to possess him.

John grabbed Stephen's hair, and pulled his head to John's arm.

"Clean that up, Stephanie," he told him. "Lick my arm clean."

And Stephen did it. His mind went blank, he was no longer thinking about his marriage, or how wrong this was, or wondering if this meant he was gay, or anything. His mind only knew obey, and he began to lick his own cum off John's hairy forearm.

Finally, when he was done, John told him to stop. John said it was time to go upstairs.

"Stephanie, I want you to lead the way. Take me by the cock and lead me up to your bedroom, where I'm going to fuck and use your wife."

Stephen wrapped his hand around his new Master's cock. He wasn't ready to use that word yet, but it still was the case, whether he new it or not.

They all reached the bedroom. John pulled Stephen to him by the shoulders and the two men stood face to face.

"You were a bad little pussyboy, Stephanie. And you are going to learn your place. What are you?"

But Stephen couldn't answer.

"What are you, pussyboy?"

"I'm your slave."

"What is your slut wife?"

"She's your slave also. We are your slaves."

"Good. Melanie, get me some of your panties."

Melanie fetched a pair of simple panties. She didn't have any that were very sexy. John looked at Stephen, and told him to put them on. Stephen did.

John stood back, amused, as Stephen slipped into his wife's panties. He looked ridiculous. His testicles were hanging out of either side. His cock was, inexplicably, getting a little hard again.

Not that he was going to be able to do anything about that, John thought.

"Looks cute. Melanie, why don't you put some lipstick on this pussyboy."

Melanie got a dark shade of red, and Stephen flinched when she put it to his lips. What was happening to him? Why was he allowing this?

But he was, and he did. When his lips were a nice red, he was ordered to stand facing the corner.

"You can listen and wriggle in your panties while I enjoy your wife, Stephanie." John turned to Melanie.

"It's time for me to break you."