The Bully Pt 09

As Graduation Day loomed John and I were focused on our studies, albeit to different degrees. I was immersed in mock tests and spent most of my days in the Law Library. John still gamed incessantly, relying on my diligent studying to get him over the finish line, academically speaking. In the evenings John would switch his Virtual Reality headgear from online games to pornography, and as he sat at his desk immersed in three-dimensional titillating movies, I knelt between his legs and pampered his cock.

Blowjobs became his new obsession, and under the additional stimulation of porn John was able to enjoy three or four orgasms over the course of an evening. I did at least get spared this indignity on the weekend, as Lela was always there to worship John's cock.

Once a month during Lela's menstrual cycle, I was called into action. John would dress me up in some demeaning, overtly sexualized outfit and butt-fuck me in front of my future wife. He typically used his down time between cum-shots to reassert his leverage over me, by rehashing versions of the five million dollar question. By keeping my potential earnings loss fresh in my mind John was able to continue his subjugation of me, and by association, Lela.

As John's birthday approached, I was full of trepidation. Over the years that fucking asshole had made a habit of thoroughly demeaning Lela and I on his big day. We both knew that this year would be no different, and I was dreading the thought of which scenario he would dream up.

As it turned out, on his birthday John made me watch as Lela rode the Sybian machine for his amusement. It was an incredibly erotic sight watching this expensive sex-toy bring my future wife slowly to the boil. From the second that Lela lowered herself onto the oscillating phallus, I was erect. John cracked open a beer and watched on impassively as he controlled the Sybian machine using the app on his iPhone. Lela was putty in his hands as he skillfully varied the intensity of the sex-toy, her nipples hardening almost immediately under the stimulation. John brought Lela tantalizingly close to orgasm several times as he sipped his beer. His total control of her body was impressive to watch, and as her stomach tightened for the umpteenth time, signaling her close proximity to orgasm, Lela finally broke down and asked John for release.

Of course, because John is a complete and utter asshole, he made Lela beg before he magnanimously granted her request with a subtle nod of his head. Lela experienced a phenomenal orgasm, throwing her head back in sheer ecstasy as John toyed with the remote control on his iPhone. Lela's stomach was taut as she climaxed, her abs visible under the physical stress of her orgasm. She cried out John's name right as she climaxed, which was a kick in the nuts to me. Then, seconds later, immediately after her release Lela slumped forward, breathing heavily as she struggled to compose herself.

"Again, slut," John commanded as he fired up the oscillating phallus.

John ran Lela ragged that day, and as I unwittingly witnessed the sight, sounds, and aroma of my future wife enjoying multiple orgasms, I have to admit that I was fully erect the entire time. Lela was sweating profusely, and her breathing was rapid and ragged as she coated the saddle with her vaginal secretions.

Finally, in much the same way that she had begged him for her first release, Lela pleaded with John to end the session as she was a blubbering mess. John raised his iPhone in a theatrical manner and silenced the Sybian with one touch on the screen. Lela slumped forward unable to hold herself in an upright position, and as she tried to compose herself, John extricated his erect cock from his pants, stood over her in a commanding manner and started to jerk off.

Lela was still struggling to arrest her breathing and would have clearly liked a few moments to recuperate. However, as John began to stroke his erection she seemed to anticipate his every need, and looked up at him with a huge smile on her face, thereby signaling her complete availability to him.

"Happy Birthday, baby," Lela cooed seductively. "How are you going to enjoy your first orgasm?"

"What are my options, slut?" John countered aggressively, as he increased the cadence of his strokes.

"As always, baby," Lela said as she looked up smiling at him. "Whatever you desire. Would you like me to suck you off while Mark watches on in abject jealousy? Would you prefer to blow your load on my face? Or perhaps butt-fuck me while Mark licks your asshole?"

I knew that Lela was just using her words to get John off, but the memories of my future wife offering herself to my nemesis in such graphic terms haunted me for years. Predictably, her continued taunting of me had John on the road to release, and I saw the signs of his impending orgasm several moments before it occurred.

Lela remained impaled on the Sybian machine as she offered herself up to my roommate in a multitude of demeaning scenarios. Finally, as he approached his climax, John turned his attention to me.

"Years from now, when you are married to this dirty CumSlut you will be unable to get these visuals out of your mind," he said confidently as he made eye contact with me. "Until that time, I am going to enjoy your lovely Lela in every conceivable manner."

"You tell him John," Lela added joyfully. "I am yours to use as you see fit. Come for me baby. I am ready for your first load."

I wanted to look away as John's orgasm rapidly approached, but truth be told it still excited me to watch Lela get used by another man, particularly my roommate. I knew I would regret it later, but I watched transfixed as John maneuvered himself into his desired position. A few moments later John erupted, blowing his load across Lela's inner-thighs and stomach, whereupon it dribbled between her legs and mixed with her secretions.

After he ejaculated John told me to fetch him another beer and Lela took a shower. As Lela dolled herself up for round two, John consumed three beers in rapid succession and decided that it would be fun for him to watch me ride the Sybian.

"Be a shame to waste the fact that it is already well-lubricated," he taunted, as we both looked at the attachment that was slick with the combination of my girlfriend's vaginal secretions and John's ejaculate.

It was humiliating to strip in front of this asshole, particularly as I was completely erect and leaking a copious amount of pre-cum. Despite the fact that John butt-fucked me regularly, the Sybian was still a painful ordeal for me to endure, and by the time I had lowered myself completely onto the oscillating phallus, I was in a considerable amount of discomfort. It felt like the Sybian was tearing me a new asshole as John watched on in amusement, but his level of empathy seemed inversely proportional to his level of intoxication.

"Lela, get your ass out here," John yelled as he cracked open another beer. "You need to witness this. The pussy is getting reamed by the Sybian."

I really didn't want Lela to see me in this humiliating predicament, and as I focused on my impending embarrassment, two things occurred. Firstly, as I diverted my attention from the Sybian machine my anal passage relaxed, and the physical discomfort diminished considerably. The experience still wasn't pleasurable, but I was no longer in pain. Secondly, as my anus became accustomed to the persistent violation, some of the tension in my lower body dissipated and I felt myself getting impaled even deeper as I relaxed. Moments later I began to feel the tip of the oscillating phallus gently graze my prostate gland, which I can't deny felt fantastic.

A few moments later Lela emerged from the bathroom in a beautiful white lingerie ensemble that was clearly intended as wedding night intimates. She was also wearing a bridal veil, long white satin gloves, and her lips were frosted in a pure white lipgloss. Angelic didn't even begin to describe the way that she looked, and I felt the familiar pang of jealously as she walked seductively towards John telegraphing her complete availability to him.

John looked briefly at the floor, and Lela seemed to instinctively understand his needs. She leaned forward in a very alluring manner and gathered up his empty beer cans. After depositing them in the trash can, she sashayed back over to him, lowered herself to her knees in front of him, and waited passively for his instructions.

John whispered something in Lela's ear that was inaudible to me, and she let out a girlish giggle. Nodding her head in agreement, she rose seductively from her kneeling position, and approached me as I knelt astride the Sybian getting impaled.

"John is feeling magnanimous on his birthday," Lela said playfully, her eyes hidden by the bridal veil. "He is going to allow you the pleasure of release," she added, taunting me as the humiliation of it all washed over me.

Evidently John had given Lela specific instructions, because she knelt to one side of me, placed one of her gloved hands on my shoulder to hold me firmly in place, and then reached out with her other silk-encased hand and lightly grazed the tip of her fingertip across my frenulum. I tensed up immediately under the sexual stimulation, and Lela let out another giggle before looking to John for approval.

"Good girl, Lela," John said quietly. "Use the softest touch possible and let the Sybian work its magic."

As Lela pressed down on my shoulder to ensure maximum penetration from the oscillating phallus, she also expertly teased my frenulum with one silk-clad fingertip. I was fighting a losing battle, and all three of us knew that my orgasm was imminent. I had already endured the visual provocation of watching the love of my life getting fucked into oblivion by the Sybian machine, but under the joint stimulation of my prostate and my frenulum, I felt my sap rising and looked across at my future wife.

Lela looked incredible in her snow white lingerie and matching bridal veil, and even though I couldn't see her eyes, I could tell by her lips that she was smiling broadly. The frosted lipgloss was very erotic and I briefly imagined how the traces of it would look all over my cock if she were to blow me while wearing it. It was to this image that I reached my climax, crying out in pleasure as I erupted all over Lela's white silk glove. I was half-expecting her to pull away in disgust, as John was the only person in her life who was permitted to soil her with his bodily fluids. However, after briefly glancing at John for approval, Lela simply adjusted the position of her silk-encased finger and continued with the frenulum stimulation.

To my surprise, as the Sybian machine continued to graze my prostate gland, Lela's touch felt phenomenal. In contrast to my previous experiences, where enhanced post-orgasmic sensitivity made any touch feel uncomfortable, this continuous stimulation was greatly appreciated. Inexplicably, even as my cock slowly softened, it felt like I was on the road to a second orgasm.

Apparently I was the only one in the room who was unaware of the power of the prostate gland, and as Lela expertly caressed my frenulum with just the tip of her silk-clad finger, I expelled another glob of semen. Even though the expulsion lacked the power of my first orgasm, it still felt incredible as my milky fluids ran down the shaft of my semi-erect cock.

Lela completely drained my balls that day, and it was a full forty-eight hours before my cock was able to transform into something remotely resembling an erection. I lost count of how many times my semen was expelled from my nutsack, and by the time John switched off the Sybian machine, my balls ached from the excessive stimulation. It was my turn to slump forward now, and Lela, realizing that her work was done, moved back over to John and knelt before him.

"Are you ready for your birthday blowjob, baby?" Lela asked rhetorically as she removed her satin white gloves and the lace veil.

I heard John inhale sharply as Lela lowered her frosted lips to his erect cock and I watched on jealously as she pampered my roommate. Predictably it took John several minutes to blow his load, by which time there was a copious coating of the white lipgloss all over his cock and nutsack. As John approached his release, he rotated my girlfriend so that I had a better view of her upturned face. Then, after flashing me a look of complete disdain, he erupted all over Lela's face as she egged him on.

"Fuck yeah, you dirty bitch," John exclaimed, as Lela sucked the last remnants of his semen from the tip of his cock.

After he composed himself, John issued his next command.

"Put your bridal veil back on, Lela," he instructed her. "Be a good girl and wait for me in the shower. On your knees."

I watched as Lela left the room obediently, and then John turned his attention to me.

"I am hungry, Mark," he announced. "Make us a sandwich."

I had made lunch for my roommate on numerous occasions and I knew exactly how he liked his sandwich. However, as we sat across from each other my mind drifted to Lela and her current predicament, kneeling patiently in the shower enclosure as John and I enjoyed our lunch. John consumed two more beers with his meal, and as he downed the final remnants he slowly arose from the table.

"Fuck me, I need to piss like a racehorse," he announced loudly. "Put the clean one on Mark," he ordered, pointing at the white satin gloves that lay in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Obeying him instinctively I reached for the unsoiled glove, the other of which was still covered in my semen. As we walked through the bathroom door Lela came into view. She was on her knees in John's desired position, with her head bowed submissively. Lela was wearing her bridal lingerie and the lace veil, and she had reapplied a fresh frosting of the white lipgloss.

"Look up at me, girl," John said quietly. "And smile."

Lela raised her face to look up at John. Her eyes were obscured by the lace veil, but I could tell that she was smiling broadly by the shape of her lips. John unzipped his pants and withdrew his flaccid cock from his underwear. There was a coating of Lela's white lipgloss all around John's glans, a clear indication that she had pleasured him orally.

"Hold my cock for me, Mark," John instructed me. "I want you to aim right at the bitch's veil."

By this point John had consumed more than half a dozen beers, and we all knew he was going to give my future wife a thorough soaking. John let out a contented sigh and then relaxed his bladder and began to expel its contents onto Lela's upturned face. I can't be certain but it seemed like John was deliberately altering the strength of his urine stream so that I had to constantly adjust my aim in order to hit the veil directly.

Thirty seconds later, with Lela's face, hair and upper body completely soaked in the acrid smelling liquid, John instructed me to kneel next to my girlfriend. As I lowered my knees onto the piss-soaked shower floor, I felt another wave of revulsion and rage sweep over me. John had enjoyed his birthday jollies and now that his bladder was empty why did he feel the need to humiliate me further?

"You may kiss the bride, Mark," John said with a chuckle.

Years of submission to this asshole had conditioned me to obey him instinctively, and I reached towards Lela to lift up the bridal veil. While the lace material wasn't particularly absorbent, it was still damp to the touch, and stank of urine.

As John watched on intently, Lela and I exchanged several open mouthed kisses, despite the unmistakable taste of his urine on her lips.

"I want you to wear that lace bridal veil on your wedding day, Lela," John said coldly. "For Mark. He deserves it."

"Whatever you want, John," Lela intoned with little enthusiasm, as John surveyed his latest depravity.

Then, in his intoxicated state, John stumbled out of the room and a few moments later we heard his contented snoring as he had apparently passed out. Lela and I showered together in silence, taking care to run hot water over the veil and the satin gloves. Once we were clean, she perked up. It seemed like she was always able to find the silver lining which was something that I loved about her.

"Moving in the right direction" Lela said excitedly. "John accepts we are to be married and is okay with a traditional bridal veil."

Lela hung the bridal accessories over the wall of the shower enclosure to dry and the two of us slinked off back to her hotel room to lick our wounds. Of course, the second John woke up he texted us to return to our shared dorm room, and it was with great trepidation that Lela and I returned.

John had sobered up considerably, but was still in the mood to fuck with us.

"Lela, I want you naked except for your bridal veil," John instructed her. "Oh, and frost your lips for me. Good girl."

As Lela began to disrobe, John turned his attention back to me.

"I need you to freshen up my bathroom, Mark," John ordered. "It still smells of piss in there."

A few minutes later, after I had opened the window and sprayed air freshener in the bathroom, the urine odor was gone and I returned to the main room. Lela was kneeling by John's side, naked except for the lace bridal veil.

"All done?" John asked cheerfully. "Just the Sybian machine left to clean then. I expect the two of you to get it spotless."

Conditioned over the years to obey this Alpha Male, I started to fetch some wet wipes but John had other ideas.

"Use your tongues," he said with a smile.

I wanted to retch at the thought of this latest indignity. The leather saddle of the Sybian machine was coated with Lela's dried vaginal secretions, my seminal fluids and some of John's ejaculate from where he had jerked off on Lela during her time on the sex toy.

I think Lela must have felt the same way, but the two of us knew that this was going to happen, so we opted for the easy way, complete submission to this fucking prick. Lela still had her veil on so I couldn't see the revulsion in her eyes, which was probably a blessing in disguise. John watched on intently as Lela and I lapped up every trace of our combined fluids from the seat of the Sybian machine. Occasionally, if our heads got in close proximity, I could smell the faint scent of John's urine that had permeated the bridal veil, despite it being rinsed in the shower.

Unfortunately I could also smell the unappetizing odor emanating from the oscillating attachment that a few minutes ago had been lodged deep inside my asshole. Lela must have noticed it too, as she seemed to be stalling with regard to working on that piece of the sex toy. Lela and I lapped away at the saddle, in an attempt to delay the inevitable disgusting notion of cleaning the phallus.

Once the saddle was spotless, John mercifully intervened.

"You may use the wet wipes to clean the attachments," he said pleasantly. "My birthday gift to the two of you."

I could see the relief in Lela's body language as we processed John's generosity. That attachment had been buried deep in my anal passage for a long period of time, and would have been positively disgusting to clean with our tongues. After we were done, John surveyed our work, and as he got close to Lela he seemed to notice the slight smell of urine emanating from the delicate wedding accessory.

"I forbid you to wash your bridal veil before your wedding, Lela," John said with a flourish. "Hopefully for you the piss smell will have disappeared by the time you are ready to tie the knot with some lucky guy. In fact, hand it to Mark, he is just about to leave."

Lela removed the veil, and I could see the shame in her eyes as she gave it to me.

"Beat it, Mark," John said firmly. "I am going to fuck Lela now."

Dejectedly, I headed back to Lela's hotel room, praying that if I ever got to walk down the aisle with Lela, that awful bridal veil would be a thing in my distant past.