Fictional Story: The roommate

[BadBoy21 687]

I hope you enjoy this story.  Honestly it sort of came to me in a dream, if you can believe that.  When I woke up I desperately tried to write down as much as I could remember. Sadly, the final product was nothing compared to the way my dream made me feel.  My dream was greatly influenced by my actual friend Justin.  Truth is stranger than fiction after all, hope you will settle for half truth-half fiction.  Or maybe 2/3 fiction, 1/3 truth?  I don't know.  But regardless, I hope you like the story

 

Losing your job is probably one of the most assaulting thing to one's ego.  Granted company downsizing isn't quite the same as being fired for poor performance but nevertheless, makes you feel replacable.  I am a software designer, I know there is a new job for me out there somewhere.  But for whatever reason finding a new job has proved quite difficult.  I had no choice but take on a temporary job working at Five Guys.  I remember I used to work in fast food when i was going through college, how much I hated it.  Well, turns out I still do.  It's been a few months already with still no luck.  Though my other bills I managed to stay afloat, continuing to pay for my condo was not going well at all.  I realized that if I wanted to eat and still keep this place, I would need some help.  So I took on a roommate.  Actually, this was not a perfect stranger.  Justin and I were from the same group of friends back in college.  But as what normally happens, friends come and go.  When he called me to answer the ad for a roommate, we instantly reconnected.  We reminisced on old times, and things were going great, at first.  But unfortunately I had a real stand offish encounter with truly one of the worst "Karens" I ever had to deal with.  Long story short, I got fired that day.  Fired from Five Guys...wow.  I told Justin what happened.  All I know is that I was eternally thankful that at least I had him, now my only viable source of income.  At least until I find a new fast food job.  Justin was a good sport about all of it too, he assumed the role of financial provider, covering the condo, utilities, food, practically everything.  He had a good job as a personal trainer.  You wouldn't think a personal trainer would be such a profitable endeavor.  Needless to say, he was perfectly in shape.  Blond hair, green eyes, 6'3", his physique was breath taking, not like steroid-freak physique but just very fit, beautiful defined abs, big pecs, the works.  The way he walked around the house all day in his underwear when he was home, I just couldn't look away.   And he knew it too.  Of course he was straight.  HE would have girls over  sometimes but normally he went to their place.  The sounds he could make come out of a woman, made me so jealous.  Yeah, he's a stud.  The other thing, which I am a little embarrassed to say, was that he has the most perfect, beautiful feet I've ever seen.  I was obsessed.  I mean, he didn't walk around barefoot as much as in his white (should I say yellowish and grey) socks.  His feet really smelled strong, but I couldn't get enough of them.  Sometimes I would just find a pair of discarded socks, usually laying around in the common area and just sniff.  When we sat and watched TV in the living room he would just put his feet up on the ledge of the couch I was sitting at, his feet practically inches always from my face.  Trying to not seem truly obsessed, I would joke about him needs to move his socks they stink. 

"Ahh dude, your feet stink man!"  He laughed and actually didn't bother moving them.  The thing about Justin, he is a huge slob.  He leaves clothes everywhere, he doesn't wash dishes ever, and god the way he misses the toilet whenever he takes a piss, I wonder if he even tried aiming at all. Sometimes when I was in the bathroom getting ready, he would just come into the bathroom and take a piss.  If I was using the toilet, he would just use the bathtub.  I could hardly complain though, for he was practically paying for me at this point, so I just assumed the role of cleaning up after him.  I would sometimes bring it up, in passing, trying not to be pushy about it.  Again, he just sort of laughed and said yeah he knows he's a slob, and thank god I was so good at cleaning up.  

That is sort of the segue to how things progressed in time.  He became more and more, shall I say, dominant.  He was nice to me and everything, but he just became more and more careless, about everything.  He would track mud in with his sneakers, he no longer makes any effort to limit how much he belches or farts around me.  Gym bros are notorious for the amount of protein they eat, and his farts could make the wall paper peel.  He also got more comfortable being naked around me.  Coming out the shower, he liked using my shower because its bigger, he just strolls out past me in my room, butt naked.  Some morning, he comes out of his room, completely naked, and would just walk around like it didn't matter that I was there, sometimes holding a conversation with me too, full frontal.  I understand, typical guy behavior, but it was more than that.  He was pushing the limits of what he thought he can get away with.  The newest addition was when he would start pissing in the kitchen sink.  I remember the first time, I was shocked.  We were watching TV and he just got up and walked over to the sink, pulled out his dick and started pissing.
"Bro, the fuck man?  Bathroom is right there,",  He looked at me, just shrugged 

"what's the difference?".  He would piss all over the dishes in the sink, sometimes filling the cups with piss, not bothering to rinse it out.  Rather, he would just say hey clean those would ya?  And I would.  Slowly the pissing thing would progress.  STarted out with sinks and dishes, next it was pissing in the banana leaf tree in the corner. It's amazing how fast those plants died.  Then, he would just pick a wall and start to piss on it.  I can remember that first time, watching him, me wide eyed with terror.  It's like I could see the future, of how things were going to progress.  He would look over at me while he was pissing and give the biggest, most malicious yet sexiest smirk I have ever seen him make.  "Guess you better clean this before it stains"  

I found myself spending practically all day cleaning up after him: doing his laundry, scrubbing piss stains off the walls, shampooing the piss out of the carpet. The amount of Febreze I spray in this place because the smell of his feet was unreal, all the time.  Even for someone like me, it was too much to deal with.  As time went on, he became less friendly about everything and much more aggressive and dominant about it.  He never hit me, nothing like that, but he just had this energy about him.  It got to the point where I was just too unwilling to say no, contradict him or argue with him in anyway. I gave up trying to ask him to clean up.  I mean again, I really had no leg to stand on.  If it weren't for Justin, I would be homeless.  It felt more and more like this was his place and I just lived here.  And he knew that too.  In a way, he had me where he wanted me.  I was trapped and he made sure I felt it.  He eventually moved to using my bed as a urinal too. Sometimes I saw him do it, sometimes I just found my bed wet and reeking of piss.  One time I came out of the bathroom and he saw him just pissing all over my bed, swaying left to right. I couldn't hold my tongue, 

"Come on bro, of all the places, why my bed?".  He just looked at me, slight annoyance in his tone and face.
"what's the big deal, its just piss, it cleans off."  One particular night I would never forget. I was sitting and reading on my bed and I hear him come in through the front door, and I hear him moaning a bit.  Before I realized it, he came barging into my room.  I see him unbuckling his shorts in a hurry, "sorry man but I am going for a  record today,"  Filled with terror, I asked,

"What record?" As if I already didn't know.  He pulls out his dick and walks over to one corner before he answers me,
"longest piss ever.  I'm gonna flood this entire room bro," and then let loose with the biggest gush of piss I ever heard.  I watched him start at the wall, trailing along, hitting my shoes and slippers on the ground, he started opening my clothes drawers, one by one and filled them with piss.  I could see the piss drip from the drawer above spill into the one below.  He opened my closet and piss on everything that was hanging. "One minute bro, still going strong," he exclaimed, impressed with himself.  He stood at my book shelf and arched his back, aimed his piss to the top, zig zagged his way down, getting every single book.  I will mention that his piss was very very yellow. I could see the books turning yellow.  He moved over to my desk, aiming for all my picture frames, his stream so forceful it knocked a couple of them over.  He finally made his way to the opposite side of my bed and aimed his hose at my bed.  I frantically rolled off the bed, landing barefoot into the piss soaked carpet.  I hadn't paid attention to the carpet, it was so filled with piss it couldn't absorb anymore, just forming puddles throughout.  I got up slowly and just watched him swaying his hips left to right, completely soaking my bed.  He spent an entire minute and a half on my bed alone.  The comforter was dripping puddles of piss onto the floor. I couldn't believe how much he could hold in him.  Finally the fountain slowly subsided, making a grand total of 3 minutes and 40 seconds of non stop piss. I couldn't even believe it was possible.  He was hooting and hollering, so fucking proud of himself.

"God dammmn bro, I done fucked up your room didn't I?"  I just stood there, looking around at the damage.  My jackets were dripping, my books were soaked, drops cascading down the lacquered shelf, the carpet was completely swimming in it, my white comforter was totally destroyed.  I don't think I will ever get the yellow out.  And god help me the smell, I felt like I was going to faint.  I lost it right then and there, all the months of frustration coming out,  I fell to my knees, splashing to the ground, and started to cry.
"Why are you doing this to me man?  Please man, what did I ever do to you?"  I could hardly bring myself to look him in the eye, feeling so pathetic, sitting there spalled out in his puddle.  He walked over to me, flicking his dick right in front of my face, splashing me.

"Because I wanted to.  Cause this is my house and you better fucking deal with that."  That was it, he said the words I was expecting...his house.  He had taken over completely.  I didn't know what to do at this point except get up to get started with cleaning my room.  Suddenly he motioned for me to stop, his dick still outside. "Nah, clean it tomorrow.  It's not too bad for you to sleep in here right?"  His stern look, what else could I do but nod with agreement.  So that night, I got into my sopping wet bed, my hair soaking up the piss from his pillows and tried to sleep, eventually getting used to the ammonia lingering in the air.  

Months gone by, and nothing has changed.  I still can't find another job.  My only job these days is cleaning up after Justin.  I find myself always scrubbing one part of the floor and Justin standing two feet away, pissing on another section of floor, sometimes flicking it over at me.  From the moment he walks in, he picks a new spot to piss on.  NO matter how much I cleaned, the house still had the faint aroma of piss, piss and feet and sweat. Justin never seems to mind the smell.  Besides the smell out there was nothing compared to the smell from my room.  Though he pisses everywhere, he hand picks my room as his special project. Him and all his friends who come over.  My god, every one of them can piss practically as much as Justin can.   Whenever the need arises, they just pick a corner, or a closet, a pillow or a shelf and just let loose.  His one friend Luke, he especially loved pissing on my books.  He just gets up off the couch, looks over at me and says how my bookshelf is calling him.  Which the other guys would laugh their asses off at.  His new favorite thing to do. wake me from my sleep by pissing all over my face, always managing to swallow a good mouthful by accident.  Pissing on me became a regular occurrence eventually as well. We would be eating at the kitchen table and suddenly I felt him pissing on my leg.  Sometimes though, I would stand up to him,
"Stop fucking pissing on me!"  He would just look at me with that annoyed, convinced I cant do a thing about it look, take a bite of his cereal,

"how about I piss in your fucking coffee?"  His booming, domineering voice instantly made me back down, while I just sat there, as he continued pissing on my legs. What did I actually expect would happen?  Sometimes you rehearse these fleeting plans of action, play them out in your head, only to be reminded of your reality, reinforcing that terrible truth that haunts your thoughts, that this was your life now.  Often I spend my nights in my room, trying desperately to read the damp and yellow stained pages of my ruined books, wondering what I ever did to this man for him to treat me this way.  I lay at night, panicking, wondering if I can ever get out of this situation.  Would I ever get my place back?  Would my life ever be the same again?  All my clothes forever smell like piss, no matter how much I wash them.  Whenever he borrows my car, he repays me back by pissing all inside the interior.  I watched him once through my window in broad daylight piss all over my seats, people passing by, not saying a word to him.  He is pretty intimidating after all, who would ever think to try and stop him?    

Not me.  

[Kevin 690]

Wow this story is so fucking hot !! Great work !!!

[nutinfancy 613]

Hot Story!!! Hope you continue on with it!!!

[TylerHasFun 1,121]

I always liked ur stories bro.  Fuck yeah this was good as any of em.  U told me about Justin before, he really like that?

[BadBoy21 687]

51 minutes ago, TylerHasFun said:

I always liked ur stories bro.  Fuck yeah this was good as any of em.  U told me about Justin before, he really like that?

Thanks man.  Justin is similar to the Justin of this story, but only in the good ways.  He's not abusive in any way to me, we're best friends.  He does these things because he knows I like it.  I actually think he gets off on it a little, being dominant with me, not that he is into piss.  But he never goes too far.  For a straight guy, he's very open and understanding about it all actually.  Surprised me at first.