Author's Disclaimer: All characters found in this story are fictitious and should bear no resemblance to anyone real or dead, fact or fiction. Please feel free to send fanmail and constructive criticisms to the e-mail address provided.
Armahd and Steve had been great friends for years, even before the Great Revelation had unfurled across the U.S. They had met one day at the local YMCA that Steve worked at as swimming instructor. Their friendship quickly blossomed into a full-on bromance. They could walk into any club and leave with upwards of 20 women's phone numbers... assuming of course that they played their cards right. Armahd understood why he was getting ladies' digits, after all he was a hulking muscular man that looked as a statue had come to life one day. The thing was, Steve was kind of...well...petite some might say. Sure he had a flat stomach and thick round butt that wouldn't quit, but he was short and lanky almost to the point of being gangly. Armahd would try to coax Steve into gaining muscle mass so that he could attract more of the ladies. Unfortunately, Steve would never take the bait which only left him at a disadvantage in those same clubs producing only five phone numbers, four of which Armahd would assume were jokes. This never deterred Steve from being the hunk's wingman, however, chatting up the beefcake's numerous weightlifting and other accomplishments. Most women felt safe around Steve... it was as if he emitted some sort of pheromone that made them more receptive to the brute when his buddy would make introductions. Whenever Armahd would question Steve as to why it was that he didn't mind losing out on so many women, he would simply smile and say, "I haven't found the perfect one, yet. She's out there though,...waiting for me...and all I have to do is keep looking. Besides, I'm sure you'll pay me back one day." The Arab would see that dreamy look in his friend's eyes and knew there was no way to convince him otherwise.
It had been weeks since the Great Revelation and the new Blacklist Laws were in full swing since it was unanimously decided upon. Armahd had somehow managed to avoid being raped (since this all began) by keeping Steve with him at all times. He had awoken this afternoon with one of the most painful erections that he could recall. He looked down at a small puddle that had formed in his bed, straining to recall the previous night's dreams. As he let out a groan, he soon realized the futility of such an endeavour opting instead to slide his hand up and down his nine and a half inch pole. He lost himself in the throws of passion thinking of a particularly buxom blonde chick that he had seen at the club the night before. "What was her name again?" He queried his memory, "Sheila was it? Yeah that's right...Sheila...damn - I wish she'd call me." He fantasized about her perky bosoms bouncing up and down as he imagined her doing jumping jacks. His hand slipping across his bare flesh-sword, balls churning with jism. It wasn't until he pictured her with a pair of black eyes from her boobs smacking her face that he finally orgasmed. Blast after blast arched over his head hitting the wall and drizzling down the backboard. He had long since given up on hiring a Jizz Butler opting instead to do his own cleaning. When it came to the carpet, however, he'd occasionally just let the chips fall where they may as he spent most of his income on clubbing and wooing the ladies.
After jerking off several more times during breakfast, Armahd knew it was time to go and workout at the outdoor weight center. Locking up he made his way to the elevator and down to the ground floor of his building only stopping once to allow another passenger on. An older man, about fifty-five got into the box with him...also on his way out of the building. He was portly with brown, greying hair on the sides of his head and balding on top. A pair of wire frames hung off his nose and ears as a pepper grey mustache clung to his upper lip. He was slimed in a somewhat heavy coating of sweat that exuded excessively from under his armpits leaving his flannel shirt marred with the gut wrenching juices. A pair of denim jeans that look like a pair of arms struggled to keep his gut from spilling out of what could only be described as such a disgusting package. Armahd felt himself dry heave as the man entered the cabin, trying to keep himself from vomiting with revulsion. In every way possible it seemed that this creature was his total opposite. The tenant eyed the slab of muscle taking in every inch of the Arabian's radiant glory. Armahd clocked in at six foot three inches with abs that looked to have been chiseled from the finest marble the world had to offer. Every vein, every bulge had been perfectly sculpted right down to the atom. A light dusting of black silky hair covered nearly every inch of his form with a decently coiffed crop centered around his genitals. His biceps bulged and strained double the size of the average American football seen in sporting stadiums. His nipples, while as wide as nickels, were perky and full of life, accentuating his firm thick pectoral muscles. A fully darkened beard served to promote his cut jawline while showing off his larger ears and nose. Although he did have hair where it should've been, he had taken the time to shave it down to the scalp-line. Nestled perfectly on his flat, taught abdominals was a concave belly button. Between two meaty, powerful, bone-crushing legs lay his nine and a half inch member that did little to conceal his voluminous testicles. The elevator companion chuffed and said, "Tuesdays...amiright?" The doors slid shut concealing what the beefcake was revealing.
The doors wheezed open as Armahd felt the slightest hint of a slimy hand caressing his perfectly round, juicy bubble cakes. He gave his co-rider a death stare as he exited the lift as the man whistled pretending not to have done anything. Despite the grotesqueness of the situation, Armahd would soon be saddled with another erection as he left the apartment lobby. Shrieks and cries for help assaulted his ears a couple of blocks away from the apartment complex as a sixty year-old Blacklister was being gang raped by a group of twenty year-old Asian boys down an alley. Armahd stopped for a second to make sure the poor schmuck wasn't being killed as that was still somehow illegal, surprisingly. "OH GOD PLEASE," the man begged, "I'M SORRY! I'M SO SORRY! I'LL NEVER LOOK AT YOU AG-AAAAHHHHHH!" The twenty year-olds giggled with delight as the old man screamed, each one taking turns at sodomizing the geezer's hole. Armahd thanked Allah that the group of hoodlums hadn't noticed him or his now leaking erection that blob of fat from his complex had left him with.
"Oh god guys," one of them called out, "his ass is SOOOO much fucking tighter than my girlfriend's pussy."
"Yeah," another chimed in, "we should do this more often!" Armahd scurried away before anyone noticed him, cringing at the fading shrieks.
He once again had made it safely to the workout zone, his throbber ached hard once again forcing him to pay attention to it. Once his adrenalin subsided, the urge to masturbate hit him like a freight train going 100-miles-an-hour. Droplets of precum percolated from the tip of his member, sliding down to the matted, albeit trimmed, patch of pubic hair. A tear of mandew hung off his rising meat orbs, glistening in the sun that tried to burn away his goo. Just as he was about to take care of business, Steve jogged up and gave him a big smile. "Hey man, you doing OK?" A concerned look now pasted his once cheerful demeanor as he looked down at his buddy's bulge. Armahd's crotch meat gave a twitch at the attention that it was receiving...almost like a puppy starved for attention.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Armahd responded, "this guy on the lift caressed my ass on the way out the door. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of watching me bust a nut in front of him."
"Oh man, harsh! Wooooow! People are getting really crazy these days or rather should I say emboldened. Just on the way over here I saw three separate couples going at it like a pair of rabbits in heat."
"Yeah it seems that they don't care with whom either. I saw a group of thugs gang raping this sixty year-old man in an ally."
"REALLY?" an exasperated look of disbelief lit up Steve's baby-face as he crossed his arms. His blonde hair and slightly chubby cheeks should have made anyone swoon.
"Good thing that they didn't notice me or my virgin tight straight ass would've been theirs; anyway, let's get to work!" Armahd gave Steve a light shoulder punch as he made his way over to the barbells.
"Don't - don't," Steve stuttered, "don't you think you should...you know...take care of business first?"
"No man...we're wasting daylight here," Armahd trying to forget the engorgement between his hairy mounds.
Hours passed as he performed various weightlifting and cardiovascular exercises, all the while building up a layer of sweat of his own. Unlike other men, his sweat had somehow managed to be pleasant...smelling of oils or spices from his birth country. Every so often Steve would hand him a bottle of water for him to take a few swigs from, to help keep the stud stay hydrated. After a while of maintaining this routine, Armahd started to feel woozy almost to the point of passing out. "Damn man," he complained, "the sun is kicking my ass today."
"Don't worry about that right now," his blonde buddy encouraged him, "take another shot of water and get right back to it." Steve shoved the water bottle into Armahd's swaying arm. Just as the stud downed another gulp of water, a darkness enveloped his field of vision.
The Arabian stallion awoke to the image of street lamps flickering on, blotting out stars that hung in the night sky. A pounding headache crushed his feeble attempts at freedom. He craned his head around trying to determine what was happening; he was spread-eagle on his back on the barbell equipment. Four larger weights jury-rigged to hold each of his limbs in place at five times what he would normally have been able to lift. A stream of pre-cocksnot wept from his straining member, causing him almost equal amounts of pain that his head offered. "HELP," he cried, "SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!" Steve came into his field of vision as if to respond to his bleats of helplessness.
"Don't worry buddy, I'm right here," Steve cooed to the disabled hunk.
"Oh thank Allah, Steve! Someone tied me to this - this thing and I-I-I don't know why or who or when or why!" Armahd's mind raced as he tried to make sense of what was happening and why someone might do this to him.
"Ya know," Steve chuckled, "I was somehow expecting you to have figured it all out by now: why I'm always single...why I'm always so willing to help you out at a moment's notice, why I am so good at talking you up in the clubs night after night after night." Steve let out a sigh as he feigned a sense of frustration.
A look of horror and betrayal blossomed into Armahd's face as things clicked into place... the words painting everything in their shared past into a new light. He gasped as the feelings of deception bubbled to the surface hitting his gut harder than anything he had ever felt in his entire life. "Still, we won't let that ruin our wedding day now will we?" Steve jeered.
Just then a justice of the peace glided into Armahd's field of vision, somehow signifying what was about to take place. The man was tall, dressed in black, carrying a black bag filled with who-knows-what inside it's jowls. "Your certificate sir," the Justice's syrupy voice calmly broke the silence as Steve reached into the duffel bag that he always hauled to Armahd's workout sessions. The Arab wrestled with his restraints in hopes of loosening them, ANY one of them, up in hopes that might be able to make his escape. Steve watched as his husband-to-be struggled in the vain endeavour of achieving liberty from the makeshift shackles that he had so carefully constructed. It didn't take long for the man to give up the hope of breaking his constraints and start yelling. "Do you Steve Anderson take Armahd Maluuf to be your legal husband?"
"Yes, yes...a thousand times yes!" Steve joyously affirmed.
"And what of you Armahd Maluuf do you take Steve Anderson to be your husband?"
"FUCK NO! SOMEONE, ANYONE, HELLLLLLLLLP!"
The Justice shrugged, "unless someone here has a qualifying reason to lay claim on Armahd Muuhk'tar, I now pronounce you husband and husband." The black robed man reached into his bag removing a pen to sign his name signifying the legal proceedings as having been ordained unbreakable even in the highest of courts. After notarizing it, he returned the pen to the bag and fished out another device. It too looked like a pen of some sort with a compact motor attached to the back-end and a long black tube that ran back to the bag. A humming and hissing sound signified that the machine had been brought to life as the Justice knelt and inched himself to Armahd's left wrist. A look of terror splashed across Armahd's face as the man brandished the needle, pressing it to his wrist. The motor hummed as the Justice went to work, a slight buzzing sound filling the warm salty air.
"No, don't do this, please," Armahd begged as Steve smiled. "I'll - I'll give you money, jewels, my apartment, ANYTHING! Just don't go through with it!"
Steve feigned a moment of thought as he pretended to reconsider what was about to happen. "Nawwww," a look of defiance crossed the blonde's face as the Justice chuckled to himself. "You see, I already have everything I ever wanted. All of your assets are just icing on our proverbial wedding cake," Steve grinned, a look of bemusement taking over as he slapped the stud's bare flesh.
"FUCK YOU!" Armahd lobbed the biggest loogie he could muster at his new husband feeling even more helpless than before. "YOU'LL BURN IN THE FIRES OF JAHANNAM FOR THIS ABOMINATION! SHAYTAAN WILL MAKE SURE TO TORTURE YOU HIMSELF!"
"Ouch babe," Steve looked to the man in the black robes as he continued tattooing the stud's left wrist. "See how he treats me? I mean, I have given him years of loving devotion and all he can do to repay my kindness is to condemn me...condemn us...and on our wedding day of all days. How does that strike you?"
The Justice chuckled again, "yeah man, that's marriage for you. Don't worry though, he'll eventually come around to it. My first one did; took him three years, but now he can't imagine being with anyone else."
"Three years? I thought the Blacklist Laws were only enacted about a month or so ago."
"Yeah, well, let's just say I had a few friends in high places to help me with that, if ya know what I mean."
"Awwww, nice"
"There, done; give it a few days and it should heal up nicely."
"Thanks padre"
The Justice shrugged his shoulders before stashing his equipment back into the bag. "Don't mention it...it's all part of the services that the county office included in the marriage license. I'll swing by later and check in on you two love birds. I got another couple that's wanting to elope just like you two." The Justice lifted the bag before turning his back to the newly wedded couple. "I'll even get some help with moving him when you're ready," he gestured towards Armahd.
"Sure thing...that'd be just swell!" Steve beamed.
"FUCK YOU ALL," Armahd tried to spit at the Justice's back but it failed and instead hit the ground.
"Tisk, tisk babe," Steve mocked, "that's only for you and me." The blonde swimmer dropped his pants to the ground bending over to remove his shoes. "Let's see, first we'll get you off, then we'll get me off, and theeeennnn...we'll get me off. Maybe getting a few loads out of your front and into your back will alleviate all that tension." Steve straddled his new husband's massive furious hadron collider moaning loudly as each inch slid into his eager hole. Armahd's pole had provided the perfect amount of lube, via precum, in the time it had taken for the Arabian boy toy to sleep off the effects of the toxin. Armahd also let out an uncontrolled groan as waves of pleasure crashed over his rage at this indignity. Steve smiled as his husband's face was twisted into an expression of erotic passion, the hunk's mouth agape and eyes firmly sealed shut. "See baby? Doesn't that feel good?" Armahd instinctively nodded forgetting for the briefest of moments as to what was happening while the sensations overtook every nerve in his body. The Arabian bodybuilder slowly surrendered to what was happening to his loins, cursing himself for feeling this way. Steve slid up and down on his docile lover's loins egging him on with the same words of encouragement that he would use when the stud lifted weights.
"Oh god, oh god," Armahd called out. "Oh my sweet Allah in Firdaus! This is amazing! This is the best thing I have EVEEEERRR felt in my entire life."
"I'm glad babe," Steve smiled sweetly, "and don't worry, it'll be my turn soon enough."
"OH SHIT, OH SHIT," Armahd panted, "I'M GETTING CLOSE...I'M GETTING CLOSE!"
"That's it babe; just let it all out. I'm a big boy...I can take it!"
"SWEET ALLAH OF FIRDAUS AND ALL THE PROPHETS ON HIGH BLESS ME NOW!" Round upon round of splooge rocketed into Steve's rectal cavity as he too howled in ecstasy. The blonde swimmer laughed with delight as he felt each moist wave of his husband's man chowder paint his guts. "OK, I'm done...I'm done," Armahd wheezed, having evacuated every ounce of seed deep within his ex-friend's backside. "You can let me go now, and I promise not to hold any of this against you."
Steve let out two sharp clicks, chastising him, "remember what I said? First you get off, and then I get off; after all it wouldn't be fair if only one of us got a release."
Another look of terror bolted across Armahd's face as Steve got off his lover's hairy body. "What - what are you doing? What do you mean?"
"Oh you'll see sexy!" Steve repositioned himself in between Armahd's thick beefy legs, his own eight by eight inch love monster now oozing with delight. The Arabian man lifted his head as high as it would go in hopes of seeing what it was his captor had planned. The blonde let loose one of the most wicked grins Armahd had ever seen, leaving the stallion gulping air.
"Don't - don't...please...I love you! I'll do anything for you...just not that!" With that Armahd felt a fat stabbing pain careening throughout his body, forcing a scream to erupt from his lips. "AGGGHHHHHH! SOMEONE, PLEASE, HELP ME! HE'S RAPING ME!"
"Oh babe," Steve cooed, "don't worry I still love you. Besides I'm barely in you; this is just the tip of the head."
"NO, NO, NO, NO," Armahd's head swam with this new information. "FUCK YOU!"
"You already did!" Steve smiled at the recent memories, methodically forcing his way deep into his husband's love cavern. Inch by inch tore through his lover's sweet rectum, relishing in the sensations that enveloped the swim coach. "Oh man, you are so fucking tight babe."
Armahd kept screaming begging for someone to assist him, "OH GOD - SOMEONE...ANYONE... HE'S SODIMIZING ME!" He tried tightening his rectal muscles in an attempt to force out the intruder, but it made it far more painful than he could imagine. Armahd screamed out in torment, his body ablaze with suffering. "PLEASE SOMEONE, PLEASE HELP ME! WILL NO ONE HELP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" The pain reached a fever pitch as tears rolled down the stud's cheeks and onto his cut jawline.
"Oh baby, don't cry...there's only three inches inside," Steve jeered. "We still have five more to go. Besides, I've gotten way bigger in me and I never cried. Wait...that was a lie! You're my second; my first was only three by three."
Armahd squeezed his eyes shut trying to work through the pain, clinching his rectal muscles tightly, still hoping that he could force his rapist's tool out. "AHHHHHHH - FUUUUUUUUUCK - FOR THE LOVE OF ALLAH ON HIGH, I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS! GET THE FUCK OUT OF ME YOU TWISTED DEMON!" Droplets of blood leaked out from his rectum forming a little pool between his awkwardly positioned legs.
Steve relished in the man's sweet suffering as he forced his way deeper into his new husband's backdoor. Inch by agonizing inch tore through his lover while waves of delicious bliss engulfed his own body reaching new heights of joyous rapture. After what felt like an eternity, for Armahd, the full engorgement of Steve's mighty member had lodged itself deep within to Arab's guts. The blonde haired, blue eyed rapist shifted it around like he was trying to get comfortable in the new digs. The tethered stud continued calling out for help, hoping someone would take pity on him. Anytime someone did come into view, they would see what was going on and leave. Those that were on the Black List themselves would hotfoot it away immediately, hoping that they would not draw the attention of his aggressor.
Tears continued to stream as he started to lose all hope of being rescued. All Armahd could do at this point was allow Steve to finish his assault and hope that he would loosen the restraints long enough for him to flee to safety. Steve withdrew his gluttonous man-poker pulling out tissue and blood, forcing a new level of pain for Armahd to grapple with. He looked down at the liberated love-stick and marveled at the glistening wonders it beheld. "Oh look," he dreamily commented, "I've got some of you on me as well as in me."
"You sick fuck," Armahd growled, "I'll kill you and send you straight to Jahannam myself." Armahd found that his mouth had run too dry to sling a glob of saliva at his attacker. Instead he looked up into the night sky hoping an angel would come from on high to liberate him from this personal hell. He wondered what he had done in life to deserve this kind of torment...this kind of suffering...as he lay there, bathed in the street lamps' glow. Was it too many women? Did he not keep the Sabbath holy enough? Did he mislead his best friend in some way or not give him enough girls? He kept thinking, hoping some magical solution would appear that would fix everything. Armahd could feel the warm breeze of the summer night grazing his bare flesh. In all the pain and excitement he had forgotten to look at his own man-toy. Looking down now, a sudden revelation jolted through his mind: he had an erection. It was bigger and harder than he had ever dreamed to be possible. It leaked profusely like a torrent after a flood as it flailed in the ardent winds, flipping side-to-side like a mad man waving a knife. He gulped worriedly, disturbed by the possibility that he somehow had enjoyed everything that was taking place. "OH NO," he thought to himself, "am I actually enjoying this? OH SWEET MERCIFUL ALLAH - am I gay? Will I go to Jahannam when I die too?" Just then, his field of vision darkened once more as he felt a slight prick on his right thigh.
Epilogue
It had been five years since that night and Armahd could still feel everything as clearly as the day it happened. He gazed out the window as the rain battered the glass wondering how differently his life would have been if not for the Great Revelation. Would he be happy? Would he still be spending each night in the club, his youth fading into obscurity? Would he have married a woman that would have been half as loving and attentive as Steve was? Would he have been worshipped and adored? Would he still be burdened with worries about sources of income? Just then the door handle turned, and in burst Steve, umbrella dripping from the downpour outside. "Hey sweetie," he beamed as the bulky muscle hunk came bounding up to him. "Man, it is raining cats and dogs out there. How was your day?"
"It was great! I got all the cleaning done in just three hours," Armahd proclaimed, "and your suit was delivered by the dry-cleaners about an hour ago. Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes. How was yours?"
"Oh quite productive; my boss took the new intern's virginity in the copy room but other than that, nothing noteworthy happened."
"So I was thinking since our anniversary is this weekend, we should invite our friends for a re-enactment of our wedding night. I'll scream for you just the way you like, and everything."
"You always do babe! I love you!"
"Awwwww...I love you, too!"