Obscure

On Thursday afternoon, Luke called me from work.

"Brian, we're wrapping up the Neilson case today," he said. "So I want you to get busy moving my stuff over from the apartment. I want everything done by this weekend, so I suggest you hop the bus down here and pick up the key to my apartment. I'll leave it with my secretary." Without another word, he hung up on me.

I spent the entire weekend moving Luke's stuff. For a bachelor, Luke sure did have a lot of shit! He must've had 10 bookcases full of legal books in his library. And he has almost as many clothes as Natalie! Rows of expensive suits hung in his closet - and he has a pair of shoes to match each suit.

Luckily, Natalie waived her "no-driving" rule for the weekend and allowed me to rent a moving van. Thank God - I can't imagine how long it would've taken to move everything if I had to take the bus!

Luke didn't help at all. He didn't pack any of his stuff; I had to do everything. Friday night, while I arduously sorted through everything and put his belongings into boxes, Luke and my wife went out for dinner and dancing. Luke spent the night at our house, while I slept on the couch at Luke's apartment.

It took two days of exhausting work, but by early Sunday evening I had everything moved into our house. There wasn't enough space in the closets upstairs for all Luke's clothes, so he commandeered my closet in the basement. My clothes were relegated to a box under my bed.

My life changed immediately after Luke moved in. I had to get used to waiting on Luke hand and foot now, as well as Natalie. Luke reveled in his role as king of this new household, and he demanded to be treated accordingly. He's very bit as vain and arrogant as Natalie, with the same unwavering air of superiority about him.

I love Natalie, so it's easier to put up with her bitchiness. But having to accept Luke's frequent slaps across my face is another thing. It's only been a little while since he moved in, but my spirit has been completely broken. I'm afraid to look at Luke or Natalie in the eyes anymore, and I try to avoid Luke whenever possible.

For a man who is so meticulous in his dress, Luke is an absolute slob around the house! Since he moved in, my workload has doubled. He just throws shit everywhere - then Natalie gets mad at me if there's a wet towel left in the bathroom, or if his underwear are left on the floor. I struggle to pick up after him constantly.

Luke keeps leaving the toilet seat up, which annoys Natalie something fierce. So now it's my job to make sure the seat is down after Luke goes to the bathroom. He always seems to splash a little urine on the rim of the toilet when he goes, and I have to make sure that's wiped up, too.

But it's not just the extra work that bothers me. Ever since Luke moved in, Natalie has been treating me even worse than she did before. She sees the lewd things Luke does to me, and that prompts her to go even further. They both seem to feed off each other's cruelty. It's like they try to out-do each other by thinking of new, outrageous ways to shame me.

One night after Natalie took her shower, she walked naked into the bedroom toweling her wet hair. I was on my knees in the walk-in closet vigorously polishing Natalie's shoes, while Luke was lying on the bed reading. When my wife came into the room, I lifted my head and drank in the magnificence of her limber powdered body. Unfortunately, Luke caught me gawking at her.

"Hey, I think the fag likes looking at your kitty," Luke said, laughing. "He's been staring a hole right through your pussy, Natalie!"

My wife looked over at me and sneered. "Well, him stare...that's all the pussy the little homo is ever gonna get!"

They both cracked up. Natalie sauntered slowly toward me until her pussy was right in front of my face.

"Look, honey," she said to me, prying open the soft pink lips of her sacred vagina. She was so close I could smell the shampoo on her freshly-washed hair.

Natalie grabbed me by the ears and pulled my face even closer. "Can you smell it, wimp? How long has it been since you've got to put that little dick inside this pussy? Tell Luke how long it's been!"

"Uh...it's been three years, sir" I could barely whisper.

"And tell Luke why I don't let you have sex with me, Brian," she continued badgering me.

"Uh...because...because I slobber all over her, sir" I told the smirking Luke.

Natalie clapped her hands in sarcastic applause. "That's right, Brian! Because you slobber all over me! I don't like having sex with wimps, Brian - and you're the biggest wussy of them all, aren't you?"

"Y-yes, Natalie."

Luke feigned sympathy. "Awwww, it's a damn shame the faggot doesn't ever get to have sex. It just isn't fair! Wouldn't you like to have sex at least once in awhile, Brian?"

"Uh...y-yes, sir, I would," I droned.

"Well, we'll have to see if we can't fix that," he said mysteriously.

What was he up to? He certainly wasn't concerned about my lack of a sex life, I knew that! But he had something in mind.

I found out what it was a couple days later when Luke came home from work carrying a large box.

"This is a present for you, Brian," he said. Natalie was curious; she didn't know what was in the package either.

I opened the box apprehensively. My heart sank when I was the contents of the package: it was a plastic blow-up love doll!

Natalie laughed until the tears were streaming down her face when she saw the absurd doll, with its mouth puckered up into a wide "o". Luke stood by with his hands on his hips, smiling broadly.

"Her name's Lu-Lu," Luke declared. "Go ahead, Brian: blow 'er up."

I felt like I was going to die from embarrassment. As my wife and her boyfriend looked on, I began blowing up the ridiculous-looking doll.

When it was completely inflated, Luke snapped his fingers.

"You know what to do next: show us how a real man makes love, Brian," Luke chortled. He grabbed Natalie's hand and they both sat on the couch, getting comfortable for the show. "Show us how it's done, queer," Luke said. "Maybe you can teach me a thing or two!"

I closed my eyes and slowly began to mount the doll. "Not yet, you asshole," Natalie interrupted. "You're forgetting about foreplay! Don't you know anything about women, you dickless little wimp? A woman likes to be caressed...and held...and licked from head to toe. That's what a woman likes. Now do it right, Brian, and stop thinking about your own little peter!"

Fighting to hold back tears, I began to kiss the plastic doll all over. I tried to block out the squeals of laughter coming from Natalie and Luke as I began sensuously kissing and licking the doll's synthetic skin.

"Lick her ass, Brian," Luke called out. "Get your nose dirty!"

"Give her a nice French kiss," Natalie piped in.

After about 10 minutes of "foreplay," I suddenly came without even touching myself. While I spewed my pent-up frustrations all over the carpet, Luke reached down and snatched the doll away. He angrily pulled the air plug, and Lu-Lu started to deflate.

"You have got to be the sorriest piece of shit I've ever seen in my life!" Luke said, shaking his head. "A premature ejaculation - with a goddamn love doll! You blew it, Brian. From now on, you aren't even allowed to fuck Lu-Lu - how's that, you little faggot?"

"I guess it just isn't in the cards, is it, Brian?" Natalie giggled. "Now clean up your mess and get out of here, you pathetic homo!"

I broke down and cried.

THE END... until the next chapter.