The Bully Pt. 24

My hands were shaking as I texted Crystal. Predictably, since the young teen was at my beck and call, immediately upon receipt of my message Crystal switched off the treadmill and began to remove her AirPods.

"Gender-neutral restroom, now," I texted to Crystal. "I want you naked, bent over the bathroom countertop," I instructed, as I headed to the desk where the trainer was doing his paperwork.

"Quiet night in the gym?" I said to the trainer, stating the obvious as I slipped him a twenty dollar bill. "Let me buy you and the cleaning guy a coffee."

The trainer, apparently no stranger to being asked for a little privacy, graciously accepted my proffered tip, and after rounding up the cleaner, the two of them left the facility to take a well-deserved break. My phone dinged once again as I closed the distance between myself and Crystal, as she waited obediently in the restroom.

The latest photo did answer one of my questions. A seemingly happy Lela, with a huge smile plastered on her face and a mouth full of semen, was holding her tits skyward as she allowed Pete's ejaculate to dribble from her mouth onto her breasts. There was no caption on this picture although Lela sent me an immediate follow-up text.

"I will meet you in two minutes in the parking garage if you want to lick Pete's load from my tits, Mark," Lela goaded me via text message. "Otherwise I am going to rub his warm cum all over my chest and neck and just let this young man's semen dry on me."

My wife's taunts only served to increase my arousal, and I fumbled with my zipper as I entered the gender-neutral restroom. Predictably, because I owned the gorgeous teen, Crystal was butt-naked bent over the bathroom countertop. Her underwear were on the floor on top of her workout clothes, and I reached down to grab them as I simultaneously lowered my zipper.

"My panties might be a bit sweaty, Mark," Crystal informed me, as I raised them to my nose for a quick sniff. "I have been on the treadmill for the last thirty minutes."

A few seconds later, buried to the hilt in Crystal's tight teenage pussy, and with her moist panties hanging around my neck, I placed my iPhone on the counter in front of us. Then as the frustration of being cuckolded washed over me, I began to pound furiously into my girlfriend, in desperate search of release.

"What's got you all riled up, Mark?" Crystal asked playfully, as I forcefully fucked her.

Almost in response to my girlfriend's line of questioning my iPhone dinged, and then Crystal giggled as she saw it was from Lela.

"Now I know why you are so worked up, Mark," Crystal said without any hint of jealousy. "It's the CumSlut. Is Lela texting you the details of her date? I fucking love that woman."

Even though I was balls-deep inside my girlfriend's vaginal-cavity, it wasn't enough. I needed to read Lela's latest taunts in order to maximize my climax. Opening up the message in such a way that Crystal could also see it, I viewed the attachment first, another photo of Pete and Lela in the Four Seasons bar.

I can only assume that this picture was taken by their waiter, as Pete and my wife were seated next to each other in the dimly-lit booth. Pete had a satisfied look on his face, bordering on smug actually, which I planned to make him fucking regret. Lela in contrast was beaming, smiling broadly for the camera as the waiter captured the happy couple. The low ambient lighting of the booth automatically triggered the built in flash of Lela's iPhone 15. This addition of artificial light made Lela's tits and neck glisten with a sheen, which to the uninitiated probably appeared to be body moisturizer. However, I knew definitively that this milky reflective liquid was Pete's seminal fluids as they slowly dried around Lela's chest area.

Crystal quickly reached that conclusion too, knowing full well that Lela only sent me pictures designed to thoroughly emasculate me.

"Doesn't that guy work for you, Mark?" Crystal began hesitantly. "And isn't that the Four Seasons bar?"

"My wife is upstairs in the bar as we speak," I cried out, my shame and desire both threatening to envelope me. "On a fucking date with one of my subordinates."

"Looks like your underling gave your wife a pearl necklace, Mark," Crystal whispered seductively, knowing that her provocative choice of words would greatly enhance my orgasm.

"That pussy didn't last long, Crystal," I informed my girlfriend. "Look at the time stamp on the pictures. Pete blew his load six minutes after Lela dropped the spoon."

"What a wimp," Crystal said derisively. "What kind of sissy comes that quickly?"

"Lela wanted me to meet her in the parking garage, Crystal," I cried out, as I felt my nuts constrict. "She was going to let me lick Pete's ejaculate from her tits."

"Now that I would love to watch, Mark," Crystal taunted as I felt my sap rise. "My cuckold boyfriend eating another man's still-warm load from his wife's neck. How many more of your employees do you think the CumSlut has fucked, so far, Mark?"

I grunted loudly as I unloaded into Crystal's tight vaginal-cavity, and my girlfriend, having garnered an understanding of the mechanics of a cuckold, ceased to taunt me and remained passively bent over the bathroom countertop. Of course, Lela was also intimately aware of the mindset of a cuckold, but she didn't care that I wouldn't want any further communication from her after I blew my load. Lela's intent was to humiliate and emasculate me, and so long after Crystal and I had showered and retreated to the sanctuary of our Executive room, my wife continued to send me updates on her date with Pete.

'Another man gets to enjoy my new breasts,' one caption read, attached as it was to a photo of Pete's cock thrusting between my wife's mammoth, well-oiled tits.

Over the course of several hours, the CumSlut texted me pictures of Pete balls-deep in all three of her orifices. Another high-definition shot showed my subordinate giving my wife a facial as she knelt directly under him and nibbled his nuts. There were photos of Lela rimming Pete, artfully taken using the large mirrors in the bathroom, as my wife knelt behind my coworker. There were even a few pictures of Pete urinating on my wife in the shower enclosure, as she looked up adoringly at him, and egged him on. Fueled by the graphic photos and descriptive captions, I ended up fucking Crystal three times that evening.

In an embarrassing turn of events, despite my derisive comments about Pete's lack of self-control, I lasted mere seconds each time we coupled, due to the extremely titillating nature of the photos. Knowing that the cuckold in me thrived on humiliation, Crystal was quite vocal about my premature ejaculation.

"Fuck, Mark," Crystal sighed after our next abbreviated session. "That performance was truly pathetic. Six minutes would be greatly appreciated right now."

I really tried to make it last the third time that Crystal and I fucked, but by this time in our relationship, my girlfriend had burrowed deep inside my head. With a few well-chosen words, and the lewd images of my wife and my coworker seared into my short-term memory, I was powerless to control myself, and ended up with another pitiful performance.

Finally, at Crystal's behest, I turned my phone off just before 2am, right about the time that two things became evident. Firstly, Lela was planning an all-nighter with my subordinate, and true to her word, Pete wasn't going to make it to work tomorrow. Secondly, I didn't know how much more of this overt, in your face cuckolding I could stand. It was one thing to watch my wife get all dolled up for a client, knowing that when she got home I could enjoy sloppy seconds. However, to watch Lela entertain and pamper my subordinate, with no possibility of any release for me, was downright demoralizing. To add insult to injury, my wife was currently staying in the same hotel as I was, although sleep was apparently not on her agenda.

I endured a fitful night of sleep, tossing and turning as I wallowed in the thought that my wife was undoubtedly being given a thorough fucking by my coworker. When I finally woke up just before 8am, feeling far from rested, I checked my phone and was dismayed to see that I had missed eighteen text messages from Lela, most of which had lewd photos attached.

The final text, sent just after 6am was a real kick in the nuts.

"Pete finally threw in the towel, Mark," Lela's text message began. "That young buck is sleeping like a baby, contentedly snoring having had his nuts completely drained. Needless to say, Pete won't be at work today. I am going to turn off my phone now so that I can sleep for a few hours. I will be back at it tonight with another mystery man. Our dinner reservations are for 8pm tonight. We will be in the Four Seasons lobby right before we eat if you want to say a quick hello, and learn the identity of tonight's lucky bastard."

I knew that there was absolutely nothing I could do or say to persuade Lela to cease and desist her disturbing quest to fuck everyone in my universe. However, Pete was a different matter. I was his direct supervisor, and as such had control over his work assignments, schedule, office placement and a few other incidental things like bonuses. Pete was going to pay dearly for his complicity in Lela's actions, and I was already formulating a plan. My intent was to move him from his office to a cubicle, give him all of the crappy work assignments, and severely limit his ability to earn any bonuses. I would also fuck with his schedule, adjusting it so that Pete worked every Saturday, and never had the same day off each week. My recommendations would take about two weeks to be approved by my supervisor and the Partners, due to the extensive hierarchy of our organization, but I knew definitively that they would be accepted without pushback.

I wasn't planning on going to the office that morning, but I needed to see if Pete showed up to work. If he was absent without authorization, I needed to make sure that Samantha and the Partners were aware of it. This would also give me a valid reason to implement the aforementioned disciplinary actions. I wasn't going to tell Samantha that Pete had enjoyed a free overnight session with the CumSlut, but I was planning to let her know that he was drinking in the Four Seasons bar the night before.

Predictably, Pete failed to show up for work, presumably because he was still sleeping like a baby, contentedly snoring having had his nuts completely drained, as Lela so succinctly described it. Samantha was extremely irritated by Pete's unscheduled absence. However, she became incandescent with rage when I embellished his importance to my project, and informed her that I was going to miss one of our deadlines due to Pete's failure to attend.

Having thrown Pete under the bus, I assured Samantha that I would double down my efforts that day, and make sure that we hit the deadline. That evening, after a long day in the office, I arrived home around seven-thirty. I tried to stay in my Executive room, fully aware that nothing good would come from hanging around in the hotel lobby to greet Lela and her mystery man.

Crystal was very supportive, even going so far as to offer me an impromptu threesome to take my mind from Lela's antics. Even as we scrolled through Crystal's phone trying to select my desired partner for the evening, the cuckold in me surfaced, and the lure was too hard to resist. Just before eight o'clock, as if on auto pilot, I descended three flights of stairs to the lobby, in order to avoid bumping into Lela at the elevator.

With her new 38 E cups threatening to bust out of her tailored Fendi suit, and her jet black hair cascading down her back, Lela would have been immediately noticeable from a distance in the refined and uncrowded environs of the Four Seasons hotel. As I quickly surveyed the lobby, the bar entrance, and the elevator vestibule, I was confident that the CumSlut was not in the hotel, and I let out a sigh of relief. Maybe Lela had been fucking with me when she informed me of her date at eight o'clock tonight.

The stress of waiting to see which one of my co-workers my wife planned to fuck next had been taxing on me. I was sweating slightly and I decided to splash a little water on my face and then head upstairs to my room, if Lela didn't arrive in the next few minutes. As I entered the guests-only bathroom adjacent to the Four Seasons lobby, I bumped into my cousin Martin. He was in the process of acquiring some condoms, which were free from the wall-mounted dispenser. Martin was the son of my Dad's younger sister, and we were very close, both as kids and continuing into adulthood.

I moved in for a hug, but Martin's demeanor was very awkward, and he seemed mortified to see me. We had a brief uncomfortable exchange, during which Martin would not make eye-contact with me, and tried repeatedly to hide his recently acquired prophylactics. I didn't connect the dots until we left the bathroom together and ran right into Lela. My wife was dressed in the same Fendi suit that she had promised me exclusive rights to, and upon seeing Martin she entered into his close personal space, and kissed him tenderly on the side of his cheek. It was at that precise moment that I knew that my days at the Four Seasons were numbered.

"I am so sorry that you and Lela broke up," Martin began nervously, as my wife hung all over him like a devoted girlfriend. "Lela called me and invited me for a drink at the bar. Would you care to join us?"

While the offer itself was embarrassing for me, my humiliation increased when Lela spoke up.

"I came here to have a drink with you Martin," Lela said firmly. "Not to socialize with my soon to be ex-husband. Let's go to the bar and enjoy a few cocktails. I am already checked into the hotel so you can stay the night if you get too tipsy to drive."

"I managed to acquire some condoms, Lela," Martin blurted out nervously, clearly overwhelmed with desire. "Just in case we end up spending the night together."

"First of all handsome," Lela responded flirtatiously, as she looked at me to gauge my reaction. "Premium hotels will bring condoms to the room, on request, and free of charge. Also, there is a reason that I came to your office and took a blood sample to test for STIs. Martin, I am happy to inform you that your battery was negative across the board, so you can enjoy me bare-back tonight. But first, let's have some drinks."

Martin and I exchanged a very awkward glance, and then a brief handshake. Ever the gentleman, my cousin escorted my wife towards the bar, with one hand resting on her lower back. Lela looked back at me over one shoulder, before placing her hand atop Martin's and sliding it down until it rested on her pert buttocks. Encouraged by my wife's apparent availability, my cousin gave Lela's ass a playful squeeze, which elicited a giggle from her, and a flirtatious shimmy of her derrière. I stood there forlornly with a throbbing erection, like a wimp cuckold, as my wife and my cousin entered the Four Seasons bar.

I probably should have seen it coming, but it was a complete shock to me when Lela sent me the first of numerous text messages that evening, each accompanied by a lewd photo. The first high-resolution picture showed a man, who I now knew was my cousin Martin, fucking my wife's well-oiled breasts as she held them together for the sole purpose of his enjoyment.

My initial reaction was one of betrayal. I had known Martin since we were kids, and we had enjoyed many shared moments as we transitioned into adolescents, and then adults. It was demoralizing that my cousin felt the need to rub my nose in his sexual encounter with my wife. Then I remembered what a manipulative cunt Lela was, and how, under the right sexual provocation, men will do whatever they are instructed to. Judging by his blood-engorged cock, and the pre-cum pooled around its tip, Martin was in such a state of arousal that he simply obeyed my wife's directives.

In a similar fashion to the photos that Lela had sent me of Pete, there was an air of anonymity about this latest set of pictures. It was only because I had met both of Lela's paramours just prior to being sent photographic evidence of the lewd acts, that I could ascertain their identities. None of the photos showed the faces of Lela's lovers and I took solace in the fact that I didn't have to know who Lela was fucking, if I didn't want to. I just needed to get the hell out of the Four Seasons hotel.

It was one thing to be aware that Lela was fulfilling her promise to systematically fuck her way through my entire universe. However, to be openly cuckolded, and to have my nose rubbed in her infinitely was demeaning, and the following morning I informed Crystal that we were moving into corporate housing.

Our new home was not as opulent as the Four Seasons Hotel, but it provided me with some respite from Lela's threats. Unfortunately, the corporate housing had some slightly different legal conditions to the hotel, and I learned that Crystal, being over eighteen, was required to co-sign the short-term lease. Before we signed the lease agreement together, I sat Crystal down and told her in no uncertain terms that our relationship was contingent upon three simple rules. First and foremost, Crystal was not permitted to use any drugs. Secondly, she was required to have her iPhone on her at all times, with no exceptions. Lastly, I wanted to reduce the likelihood of Crystal relapsing, so I strictly controlled her access to cash.

"I want you to have some financial independence, Crystal," I told her as we hashed out my conditions of us cohabiting. "I will designate you as an authorized user on one of my credit cards. It has a five thousand dollar limit, but if you need more we can certainly discuss it. You can buy anything you need with the credit card. No one carries cash any more anyway," I added.

I had already installed the 'Find my phone' app on Crystal's iPhone, so that I could track her movements. It seemed a little controlling, but I justified it by saying that I had adopted a somewhat parental role, and was fully within my rights to know where my young charge was. In truth, the literature that the rehab program provided upon release stated unequivocally that the recidivism rate for drug addicts was close to ninety percent. If Crystal were to remain in the desired ten percent, then I needed to monitor her movements and restrict her access to cash. Crystal readily agreed to my conditions, and we leased a four bedroom luxury apartment, on a month to month basis, for six thousand dollars a month.

Shortly after Crystal and I began to cohabit, I informed Samantha of my change of relationship status, and she was ecstatic for me.

"You need to be in a relationship where you are in control, Mark," Samantha told me. "John owned you sexually for close to seven years. Lela put you through the wringer, and I was always going to end up pegging you if we had stayed together. Take charge of this young girl, keep her on a short leash, and show her who is the boss. This can be accomplished without being disrespectful, Mark," Samantha added.

I blocked Lela's number after her humiliating dalliance with my close cousin, Martin. This action backfired spectacularly, as Lela reacted by sending me lewd photos from the phones of her dates. This was far more emasculating because I knew exactly who my wife was fucking on any given night. In addition, I was powerless to block most of the numbers because we were coworkers, and needed to communicate via text or email during work hours.

I had to withdraw my recommendations that were designed to punish Pete, too. So many of my co-workers were getting treated to a complimentary no-holds barred session with the CumSlut, that it was impossible to punish all of them. In retrospect, it didn't seem fair to fuck with Pete's life just because he had gone first with Lela.