As soon as we started life at the same college, my best friend Dave and I decided to join the crew team. We had both rowed in high school, and had developed good physiques. I was 6' tall, dirty-blonde hair, and was fit and muscular but sort of on the thin side, with a body a lot like Ashton Kutcher's, but a bit beefier. I rowed a good position in high school, and I thought I was pretty good.
But nothing really prepared me for the challenge of rowing in college. At the school I went to, being on the crew team was big, and looking around at the guys that would try out, I knew it would all be a challenge. Almost all were about my size, where I had expected little competition; I thought, maybe I should join lightweight crew? I decided against it, though, I would take up the fight to be on the more hard-core team. Dave agreed. But of all the guys there, this asshole, Blake Harrison, probably stood out the most, not only because of his physique and looks, but also because he showed off and was so in-your-face (that's why I called him an ass).
He stood about 6'3 and had curly brown hair that he had cut short on the sides, almost shaved, and kept at a low-cropped level on top, and steely blue eyes that seemed able to look through anything. He had a thing about him that he came off as a "natural leader" type and whenever he spoke in his forceful baritone, with a sort of tone that was aggressive, arrogant, and uninterested at the same time, everyone else was quiet and seemed to listen. He seemed like the sort of guy who always got his way, and I resented him for it; I mean, I've got nothing against a guy doing what's best for himself, but I don't like stand-offish strong-arm assholes.
Another thing I disliked about Blake (besides his name--what kind of a name is Blake, anyway?) was that he was so up on his body, or at least was not at all shy, which I sort of was. He always took his shirt off whenever he had the chance, or sometimes he did it just for the hell of it, and his hairless torso of rippling muscles, showing more particular ones than I knew humans had, shone with a sort of glow I thought was as arrogant as he. It's not that he was body-builder-beefy, there were some guys on the team that were bigger, but that he was so well-defined, he could have posed for an anatomical study of human musculature. I have to concede this point, fine, I thought he was good-looking, who wouldn't, and I thought his large muscles all fit in the proper ways, but why always show off? I mean, that's fucking daft. Even his walk, this sauntering strut, I thought was just--"too much."
In the bathroom during tryouts my eyes naturally also wondered over the rest of his body; I was dying to find a fault. I was disappointed though, and I noticed with a tinge of jealousy and admiration that his smooth legs were as muscled, perfect, and proportionate as the rest of his body, that he had an ass of iron with no flab, and--worst of all--he was hung like a maniac.
I mean, I didn't measure it then, but it was easily five, six inches soft, cut, and thick. I didn't look too much, I mean, I wasn't gay, and I didn't want to be caught looking; but he was clearly much larger than I was (or Dave, for that matter, whose body was similar to mine, though I'll talk about him later). All of this worked to sort of reinforce my idea that I was out of my league trying out for this team, and so I disliked this guy for all he was and represented, and I thought he was a pain; but I kept at it, and resolved that I would make the final cut. I kind of despised Blake on another point, since he was so clearly a shoe-in.
At one point towards the end of the tryout season, I ended up talking with a friend who passed by the docks after practice, and then I was late going back to change and take a shower. I shucked off my clothes, took up a towel and headed for the shower room. I was surprised to hear a shower running in the back; curious to see who it was, I peeked from behind the wall.
There, in the back, under a shower head was--who else--Blake. I turned around and lay back on the wall for a second, considering what I should do. Finally I decided to fuck it, and just went in to wash up. I would ignore him, I thought. I took up a shower on the other side of the wall from Blake, and started washing up. And yet, try as I did to keep to washing up and leaving, my gaze kept wandering on its own over to Blake. He was just resting with his back on the wall, the shower stream coming down on his glistening body.
He had an expression of pure relaxation and pleasure on his face, and his eyes were closed. Suddenly I had an idea. I tried to suppress it, but it wouldn't leave me. I had gotten to dislike this guy so much that I wanted somehow to ruin his composure. I had often made sarcastic barbs in the past whenever he spoke in his center-of-attention way, but he always ignored me. Now, I would do something to piss him off, even if it meant I would be annoying. That's it--I decided to be annoying and bitchy, which was so unlike me in general, just to piss him off. So I said,
"Hey Blake, do you mind?"
He sort of came to and turned his head in my direction with an indifferent look on his face. "Huh?"
"I said, do you mind? Aren't you wasting water? Coach said not to waste water."
At this, Blake just got back into the position he was when I came in, shaking his head a bit and smiling. I kept lathering and washing off under the shower for another minute. Fuck it, I thought to myself, I went this far; I mean, I knew I was being really annoying, but I decided it's OK to stoop to this level once in a while, just to piss off this asshole. So I started singing to myself in this really nasal voice. I did this for maybe thirty seconds before Blake finally surprised me, saying,
"Hey Mark, shut the fuck up." I looked at him for a moment, but then back at the wall, and kept singing. I mean, what was he going to do? I felt I could carry myself in a fight--he was bigger, but size doesn't matter all that much in a fight--and besides, if he so much as hit me, we both knew he'd jeopardize his entry on the team. But suddenly I heard steps and felt someone coming towards me. I turned to see Blake a few arms' lengths away, and closing in. The light in the room played on his broad shoulders and the deep cleft that ran down the middle of his rippled abdomen. I was expecting a face to face "stand-off," where he'd try to tell me off. Instead, he just walked up to me and took my wind out with a powerful punch in my stomach. I doubled over. "I told you to shut the fuck up, shithead," he said, without much emotion. Catching my breath, I started raising my head up again, and, still bent over, looking into his burning eyes, I said a faint,
"Fuck you, Blakeshit!"
At this he just smiled slightly and shook his head; the next thing I knew I was down on the floor with a bloody lip, dizzy. He had just back-handed me accross the mouth. Mother-fucker, I thought. I was on my side and I wiped off my lower lip and the running water was washing the blood away. Then I started raising myself on my palms, but at this point, I felt a powerful grasp on my head, and my neck was bent back. Fuck! I thought...this guy was going to break my neck. But Blake just raised me by my hair until I was on my hands and knees and he was behind me, standing astride, with his calves brushing against my sides. I tried to get up off my hands, but he pushed me down forcefully, until with a whimper I was back down on all fours, still resisting.
"I'm fuckin' tired of your shit, Mark," he said, now in that aggressive, domineering deep voice. Suddenly, I felt it, SLAP, SLAP! Two loud slaps on my ass, and I squealed in pain and surprise. "You got that you little fuck? You fuckin' stand up to me, I'll redden your ass like a baby, dipshit."
I had tears of pain and humiliation in my eyes, and I struggled to get free and get back at this prick. But this only got him angrier. Blake kept holding my hair tight with his left arm but drew me further, my head bent back more and more, as he walked a step behind me, and then, with his right palm, slapped alternately my left and right ass-cheeks. I burned with shame and rage and tried to get free, but on my knees, and with his fingers gripping the back of my head, I could only bend my middle forward, and inch and slide down the wet surface.
"Beating your ass like a little boy, Mark! Shit! You better fuckin' behave from now on, dumbass, or I'm gonna do this in front of the whole team!"
I shuddered at the prospect of Blake spanking me in front of the entire team--I knew he would do it. But I thought I still had a chance at winning; pretending to put up less resistance, Blake predictably relaxed his grip on my hair. At this I took my chance and forcefully pulled forwards until I was free. I leapt forward, stood up, then turned, ready to give him a forceful sock-punch right in the nose. But by the time I turned he was already in my face and easily blocked my blow; he promptly took my breath out again with a powerful thrust to the stomach.
This time I fell to my knees in front of him, coughing and gasping for air. I felt something on my face, and realized that it was the sole of Blake's right foot; he pushed on my face until I fell backward on my ass, finally getting back some air in my lungs. Blake was standing there in front of me, arms crossed, muscles standing out, shining in the dim light of the room, looking like a powerful conqueror. At this not only did I realize I would not be able to win a fight against him, but something else--something deep, a pang of shame, jealousy, but also admiration, and yes...desire. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I...
Suddenly Blake grasped my hair again, cutting short my stream of introspection. He wheeled me around like a rag doll until I was on all fours again, and he was standing now on his knees behind me. Pushing back and still resisting a little, I froze at feeling something rub up and down around my ass--and I realized soon enough that, not being hand (I was expecting another round of spanking) it must have been Blake's hard cock. At this I froze. Blake could tell my reaction.
"Better relax, you little bitch...you wanna act like a bitch? Huh? I'm gonna show you what it's like to be a bitch, you wimp-ass fuck; my bitch."
I desperately tried to lunge forward hearing this, but the incredible pain of Blake's grasp on my hair put a stop to my effort. Blake beat his rock-hard cock several times on my ass cheeks and ran in up and down on my crack before he easily found the entrance and started applying pressure. I couldn't believe this was happening! This guy whose guts I couldn't take hadjust beat me up, spanked my ass red, and was about to fuck me! This was the lowest, most degrading thing that could happen to a guy...to be made another guy's bitch, to be beaten and fucked--and Blake was about to do it to me! I hated the thought of this guy winning, period; I hated the thought of losing to him in anything with a passion; but this...for him to win over me in such a complete way! Fuck! I pleaded with him,
"No, no, please Blake...please, don't fuck me, I promise I'll do anything, listen to me..." but he just kept pushing against my hole. "Blake...listen to me, wait a second, just listen...OK?"
"No way, boy," Blake said now, in a low voice. "I don't fuckin' want to hear your shit again, and I'm gonna make you know it. I know you're going to do anything I say anyway, dipshit; check this," and he quickly passed his hand on the underside of my cock; I was hard! I couldn't believe it! Was I enjoying this? "You're fuckin' hard, you wimpy fuck, just as I'm knocking at your door...gonna bust you wide open, pussy. Get it?" I got it. In the most certain way possible, Blake was going to show me who's boss.
I was never going to resist him or stand up to him again after this. "Besides, you've got a fine ass, bitch...gonna make you my boy, take your firm ass up with my cock like I would any girl's, pussy! Damn, I bet it's so fuckin' tight..."
Blake's words petered off now, as, with greater and greater pressure, the spearhead of his cock broke through the entrance to my ass. His powerful penetration knocked the wind out of me, just as when earlier he had subdued me with punches to the stomach. But the forceful, sudden penetration of the next few inches of his massive weapon almost made me faint with pain. After that, Blake let go of my hair and firmyl grasped my shoulders. My back arched to take in the length of his cock that was now inching up my ass, spreading me wide and going deeper, but slower. I gasped now with a mix of pain, humiliation...but again, there was something else; my hard cock pulsed and I got now, more distinctly than before, a wave of sharp pleasure from my cock. Blake kept pushing in; he spat several times on his cock, and the sound of his spitting made my cock twitch for some reason. I gasped again.
"Push out, faggot, it'll make it easier on you," Blake orderred, and all of a sudden, I complied. I was still resisting; I terribly wanted to get away and defeat him. But on the other hand, it was getting harder and harder to deny the pleasure...slowly, as Blake's cock conquered my ass inch by inch, the pleasure was taking me over, and my gasps were unwillingly turning into moans of ecstasy. "That's it bitch; I knew you'd fuckin' like this shit. You know your place bitch, don't fucken' deny it again...pussyboy...fuck, what a tight hole, boy..." And I did, I was starting to love it, to push back my ass and my ass muscles, to take up the length of his throbbing, massive weapon; I was feeling like I never had before--physically split in half; and shamed as hell at taking pleasure, intense ecstasy at the large cock breaking through my ass, the strong hands gripping my shoulders, the sound of Blake spitting so he'd ram me easier, the idea of so totally submitting to this asshole, this rich-boy hunk who had just spanked me silly and was now, as I could see in the reflection of the tiles in front, his muscular physique mounting me like he would any of his girls, making me his pussy.
Finally Blake's hips slapped against my ass, and I could feel his pubes scratching my cheeks.
"Aaall the way in, baby, that's it...fuck yah, your ass is mine now, Mark; nothing's ever gonna change that," Blake said as he slowly scrunched his hips forward, moving the rod-length of his cock up inside me while my ass adjusted to the incredible girth. "You're officially my bitch now, boy, my fuck-toy! Gonna fuck your ass silly, you dumb pussy, you're not gonna be able to walk for a week," and he chuckled as he took me with a long stroke.
I whimpered in shame, jealousy and pleasure; I would never, in any way, be able to challenge Blake again, I would always be his bitch after this, he would always win anything between us; the thought of this filled me, again, with jealousy, admiration, resentment, and, with his thick cock now sending shock-waves through me by ramming out my ass, intense pleasure. Blake's thrusts became faster and more forceful, and the feel of his muscular thighs slamming with each in-thrust against my hamstrings drove me wild--I could feel his powerful strength taking me over. With each lunge of his cock now I was moaning like a bitch. Finally, I couldn't help it; between moans, I whimpered, timidly,
"Uh...fuck Blake...this feels so fuckin' great, fuck me, man...shit...your cock's so fuckin' thick, Blake, take me," and I grunted a couple of times as he took a stronger hold on my shoulders and thrust twice up my ass with strong, short strokes, "make me your pussy, I'm your pussy, Blake, fuck me, fuck me harder, man!" Blake banged down his cock in my ass at this with such force that I yelped with pain and surprise.
"I'm gonna fuck you until you can't see, faggot; I turned you into a pussy fag, and I'm gonna take my time with your ass as I like it, Marcia..." I shuddered now on all fours, taking in the power of his thrusts, moaning incoherently..."You got that, boy?"
"Yes...yes...sir," I managed to utter, instinctively...
"Damn, whore, you moan like a bitch in heat," continued Blake. The dominating teenage classmate continued fucking me on all fours for another few minutes, slowly, deliberately, asserting his superiority and dominance over me. With each thrust I realized I moaned or made a high-pitched yelp, and could hear Blake chuckling. From time to time he slapped my ass. The sounds of his muscular hips slamming against my ass, of his slaps, and of my uncontrolled moans and yelps filled the shower room and resounded off the walls. Blake had won.
I was sort of surprised, and was waiting to see what would happen next. I realized I was out of breath and totally drenched in sweat; Blake grabbed me by my sides and buried his cock up my ass to the hilt. Then he lay back and dragged me along, until he was sitting, with his back to the shower wall, and I was sitting on his hard-rock prick.
"Spread your legs, faggot," Blake curtly ordered, and I obeyed.
Blake placed his powerful, smooth legs in between mine; the round muscles around his knees seemed to glow with power as they flexed. Blake, grasping my sides, started to raise me up and down the length of his cock, and I started going wild with the feelings his fucking was causing me. This was amazing; this guy I couldn't stand, and maybe because I coudlnt' stand him, was making me love the fact that he had beat me, spanked me, and was now fucking me like a girl, just like that. The feel of his arms on my sides, the strength of his hips when I took his cock completely on the way down, the heat, sweat, and smell emanating from his rubbery skin, all of it was driving me insane with desire.
"You like this, you fuckin' little wimp? Not so tough now, huh? And you thought you could stand up to me, pussy? Huh, pussy? Pussy?"
Blake slammed me down on his cock every time he called me a pussy. The sounds of his voice was just about enough to make me cum. Now he ordered me to place my feet on his thighs, and I did, feeling the smooth skin and strong muscles underneath; totally supported by Blake's body, and his cock ramming my ass, I was sort of losing my breath with ecstasy; every time I took his cock all the way in my ass, I yelped sharply; every time he raised my body on his cock, I grasped at it with my ass muscles and moaned slowly. Blake continued talking in my ears, calling me his boy, his bitch; he was enjoying the feeling of my tight ass on his cock, but most of all, I knew, he was enjoying the turn-around, the fact that only hours before I was mouthing off sarcastic bits in public to him, that he and I were just two of the guys, and now I was hopping on his cock, his total butt-bitch...
"You gonna be a good bitch from now on, Mark? Huh? You fag? You like the way I turned you into my pussy, like a little girl, huh, Mark?"
"Oh Fuckin' God, Blake," was all I could mutter, "You're so fucking strong!"
I screamed as he slammed me down on his dick again. I grasped two pipes, one at each side with my hands, tightly. Blake released my sides as I now willingly and roughly sat up and down the length of his weapon cock that had conquered me and turned me into his bitch. Blake instead reached around and squeezed my nipples hard. We continued like that for several minutes, me fucking myself on the girth of this dominant god's cock, as he squeezed my nipples tightly and lightly slapped my sides and ass, playfully enjoying his conquest. Then he started flicking his fingers around the head of my cock, lightly slapping my dick up and down with hs fingers.
"Got a fuckin' hard clit, baby...hard clit and tight ass-pussy, Mark, you fag...you like being my bitch?"
"Oh fuck Blake..." I continued gasping, yelping with the force of his cock, "I fucking love it! I'm gonna fuckin' cum! Oh fuckin' holy shit, I'm gonna fuckin' cum without touching myself, your cock ramming out my pussy...." my words petered incoherently as I started to erupt.
At this Blake grabbed my sides again, lunged forward until he was on his knees and I was also on my knees in front of him, bent over; the feeling of my fucker's hard, muscular body and thick cock deeply buried in my ass was more than amazing as I was coming and half-passing out; Blake held me with one hand around my firm, fit midriff, and with the other he grabbed my head by the top of my hair; with a roar of power and victory he exploded in my ass, and I could feel his throbbing cock pulse and burst loads and loads, one, two, three, five times. Blake came loads in my ass as my own semen spurted on the ground, proof of my natural submisson to the force of his body, cock, and personality.
After he came, Blake released my hair, and my head drooped; I felt exhausted. We stayed in that position for a few minutes, until his cock softened some, and then Blake pulled out of my ass and I fell forward. I was a mess, on the ground, in my own cum, as Blake stood, muscles glistening with sweat and water, a few feet away, chest out, the rippling muscles in his chest and abs expanding and contracting with breaths. He just smirked at me,
"Clean up, faggot," he said, pointing at the ground. "Then get the fuck out of here."
Blake went back to his shower to wash off.