This story is fantasy, though it could serve as a warning to those who sneak footage of the wrong person !The characters are imagined and not based on anybody in particular, though as I was writing, they seemedto take on a life of their own. I hope you enjoy my story. Any comments welcome to Futzman@yahoo.com
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Bodybuilder's Revenge
I love bodybuilding contests. I live for them - regional, national, international. And when I can, I like to video. I don't get my rocks off there and then, like some guys I've seen, quietly jacking off in the audience, once the lights have gone down. I like to film, and I like to make a good job of it. Admittedly some bits - well yes, to be honest, quite a few bits, get edited later into something I can jack off to at home, but most of the guys I film without any ulterior motive. Why, I even film the women body builders, when I am impressed with the quality of their presentation. The last few days before any contest begins I start getting excited, thinking about all the big guys I'm going to see. I start reading up about any guest posers who may have been invited, especially if this includes any of the big names.
And part of the anticipation is in wondering what sort of blokes will be in the audience.Because that for me is part of the pleasure. A large percentage of those guys sitting out front will be bodybuilders themselves. Most of them will not be in peak condition, because they won't be competing, which means that they won't be needing to get lean or cut down on carbs.They can be as big and as beefy as they like, and I enjoy that bigger "off season" look.Those on the stage will always include a few I'd gladly die for, but as often as not, I'll be just as turned on by the off-season hunks sitting just a few feet away. I love the ones who have really bulked up, the ones who sit there wearing body hugging clothes, tucking into their plastic containers of brown rice and tuna. And I really get off on seeing the numerous "roid freaks", who turn up on these occasion, those who have gone on "the gear" in order to pack on extra mass and muscle. You can often pick them out because they develop bad skin, although even that. I have to admit, can sometimes turn me on too.
One day, however, the temptation to secretly video some of these guys from the audience got me into a whole load of trouble.
It was the day of one of the big contests. Athletes had travelled from all over the country, guest posers had flown in from abroad. The auditorium was packed. The atmosphere was electric.We had seen the "Juniors", the "Masters", the lighter weight categories and the women, and now we were settling in to watch the heavyweights. Everyone was looking forward to the Super Heavyweights, the guys over 100 kilos, who always draw in the crowds, but, before them, there were a couple of weight classes that can sometimes turn up a few good surprises of their own.We had come to the guys between 90 and 100 kilos. An unusually large number of contestants had weighed in for this category, and about thirty guys filed on to the stage. Thirty beefy hunks, who stood in a long row flexing their muscles, most of them wearing little more than sexy posers and the habitual body tan. Half of the men were already sweating profusely. The air was heavy with testosterone.I was adjusting the settings on my camcorder, (I still think that camcorders are better for close-ups than smart phones) and so I hadn't yet paid full attention as to who was coming on to the stage. As I began to slowly pan and get in closer with my lens, my jaw must have dropped. There was a guy on stage, who was not as tall as most of them, but God, was he built ! He had a dark complexion and very dark hair and eyes. I guessed that he had to be of Middle Eastern origin - Turkish maybe, or Lebanese. He had that look about him. I can't say he was all that handsome - his nose was quite large, and his jaw, though strong, was bearded. But his shoulders and chest were hugely muscular, his lats were wide. They tapered down to a narrow waist, and of course there was an enviable six pack.His legs grabbed my attention right away - wide sweeps and broad strong quads, making his thighs look massively thick and powerful. He had no tattoos or hair on his body, though my guess was that he would have been naturally very hairy indeed. Body hair is the first thing that has to go when they're competing..I held my breath, quickly checking that my camera was running, and waited for those magic words: "Quarter turn to the right. Rear double bicep."And then I saw what I was waiting for: a real man's bubble butt that stuck so far out from the base of his spine that you could have shelved your bottle of beer on it. Had his thighs and calves not been as strong as they were, his arse might have appeared too big, but he had the weight and the bone structure to carry it all. His glutes were the size of beach balls; his high cut posers could only cover part of them. The rest were on full view, and the middle part of his posers was jammed right up into the cleft of his meaty crack. I couldn't take my eyes off him.When he turned round again, I looked to see how much he was packing in front. No disappointments there either. It was clear he was all man !As he went through all the obligatory poses, I hardly bothered to film any of the other athletes. When other contestants were called forward for comparisons, he stood watching from the wings, close to the edge of the stage, just above where I was sitting. Whenever the judges called for him to come forward to the centre of the stage, I would zoom in on his magnificent arse, and focus on the two great spheres of muscle rubbing up against each other as he walked. And when he was on his way back towards me, I'd film that bulge. I really like a man with huge balls, and this fucker's pair were more than ample. His posers, in fact, could barely contain them. When he was back in his position at the edge of the stage, quietly flexing his biceps and triceps above my head, I was getting the ideal worm's eye view from below. Hungrily my camcorder lapped up every square inch of that full, round butt. His bulging package and powerful thighs provided further food for my lens. So much was I into my filming, that I did not hit upon the fact that he had clocked what I was doing.There I was, zooming,panning, keeping a steady hand as I filmed, but not noticing how he was looking straight back at me, and that he had a somewhat puzzled and even worried expression on his face. Bodybuilders like attention, and they expect people to film them when they're posing, but, when they're just standing there flexing, it's another matter.After I had realised that I'd been rumbled, I tried to start filming the other contestants. But he was like a magnet to me. My lens kept going back to him, and almost every time he caught me at it.
The comparisons ended, and it was time for each contestant to take the stage individually to present their own routine. I filmed his posing from beginning to end, of course, not forgetting to film his final walk away to the far side of the stage (God, I was going to spend hours in the future salivating over that bit !).It was now the turn of the Super Heavyweights - the ones everybody had been waiting for. Incredible giants of solid muscle. Bronzed supergods. The crowd went mad ! I enjoyed videoing them too, of course, but half of me was still thinking about the bodybuilder from the preceding category.He had been the man of the night for me.
There came a break. people abandoned their seats and headed out to where there would be refreshments.Various other stands had been set out. They were selling protein powders, supplements, sports gear and the like. A couple of the guest posers, famous men and women on the bodybuilding circuit, were sitting at tables, signing posters or photos of themselves for their eager fans. I settled down with a coke and a sandwich, and surveyed the scene around me. It was amazing; in everyday life I could go months on end without seeing a single man who attracted me, but here there were scores of them. But that was why I was here: I only get off on bodybuilders. Not that I am anything like a bodybuilder myself. I'm told I have a "swimmer's body", quite a nice one in fact, but it is altogether different from a bodybuilder's physique. Some of these guys were enormous, and there was no shortage of great arses. And that's the other thing about me: I am an arse man. There is definitely no doubt about that !
Some of the competitors had put on track suits and come out front to join their friends in the coffee bar. You knew right away who the contestants were, because their hands and faces were still that orangy brownish colour rubbed into them back stage. There were a few famous faces dotted around; champion bodybuilders I knew from the internet or from fitness magazines. One or two of these really big bodybuilders would be coming on during the second half as guest posers. Filming those guys was always a highlight for me and for many other members of the public, because of lot of them would have phones with cameras..Two guys lining up for drinks really caught my eye. Both had sizable bubble butts and, like many of the guys here, they weren't shy about showing them off. One of these guys wore a really tight tank top. It made his arms and shoulders look massive . He had a broad, slightly pockmarked face and closely cropped fair hair.You could not help noticing his many tattoos and one thick single earring. He looked tough. His olive coloured slacks hugged his thighs and bum cheeks. They jutted out so much that my mouth watered.His mate was no less impressive. He was clad in a well worn pair of faded cut-off Levis, and his legs were super hairy and powerful. His big arse stuck out just as much as the first guy's, and he was wearing a white skin-tight wife beater, which clung to every muscle of his broad back and lats. He had less tattoos than his friend, but his head was shaved into a Mohawk.These two studs were as hot as hell. I would have given anything to lick or sniff their amazing arses.
I looked back down at my camcorder, resting now on the table next to my coke. It crossed my mind that some footage of these two mega butts would be great to have, but damn risky to get. Filming in the coffee bar where it was full of people, some of whom might well be friends with these guys, carried a certain amount of danger. But at that moment I was feeling just a bit too greedy for arse; I let temptation get the better of me. I lifted up the camcorder and pretended to be adjusting the settings. I got my two subjects centered and in sharp focus, pressed the record button and gently placed the camera back on the table with it still running and pointing in their direction. Nonchalantly I took a sip of my coke.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
I looked up in surprise. Standing in a track suit, right in front of me, was my Middle Eastern bodybuilder, except he wasn't sounding too Middle Eastern. He sounded much more like a Londoner, and a rough one at that.He was glaring down at me, and he didn't look too friendly. He called over to the two guys I had just started filming:
"Tom, Craig, get your arses over here !"
He turned back to me: "Listen, you jerk. I saw you filming me back there on stage. Your fucking camera never left my arse for a second, and now you're filming my mates' arses too. What the fuck do you think you're playing at ?"
By now his two friends were also standing over me, and other people were beginning to look. I broke into a cold sweat and my mouth went dry.
"Well," I started, "it's because I thought how good you all look, and I just wanted......"
"Bullshit," he snapped, grabbing the camera up from the table. He ran back a few frames, and a sort of half twisted smile came to his lips."Look at this, boys. Look what this fucking perv's been doing. You could get locked up for this, you know."
I was dying on the spot.
"I'm taking this," he said. "You'll get your camera back after the show........well, maybe. I'll have to think about it. If you come back here afterwards, we might give it back to you.I'll have to talk it over first with my mates. We're going to have to teach you a fucking lesson, mate."
Sheepishly I went back for the second half of the show. I can't say I enjoyed it. The scene that had just occurred was turning over and over in my mind. I was worried sick. I didn't want to lose my camera. I didn't want to get into trouble.I was in a right fucking state...............................................................................................................................................
The show was over. The prizes and trophies had been handed out. My Middle Eastern guy had come second in his weight class. Second out of thirty was fucking good, I thought, but would that put him in a better mood? Or would he just be pissed off that he hadn't come first?As everyone filed out of the hall I wondered if, indeed, anybody would be waiting for me in the coffee bar. Maybe I would just have to wave my camcorder goodbye.But they were there waiting, all three of them. And they weren't smiling.
"You're coming with us," said the Middle Eastern guy. During the contest they had names all the competitors, so I now knew his name was Kemal. "We've got a score to settle with you. We'll discuss the camcorder later."
I was taken across the car park to an old mini-van. I was shoved into the back of it, and the three of them sat in front.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"To the gym," was the answer I got.
"To the gym?" I thought. "It's gone eleven at night !"......................................................................................................................................................
For the next half hour or so we drove across town. Nobody said anything more to me.I almost began to think that they had forgotten that I was even there. They were talking among themselves about the evening's contest, and then about some women they had fucked, or were intending to fuck. From what I understood, all three were straight, but they sometimes shared their women. It sounded as if they liked group sex, and a woman was just something else that you shared with your buddies. I sensed that they had a very close bond. Tomasz, the pock faced muscular guy with the tattoos, turned out to be Polish. The hairy guy with the cut off Levis and the Mohawk was Craig. He sounded American.Kemal himself was indeed of Middle Eastern origin (I found out later he was half Turkish) but he sounded as London as could be.We came to a run down sort of area I didn't know so well. and stopped outside a low brick building with the name of a gym outside. It looked all closed up.Kemal took a bunch of keys out of his pocket, and began to unlock a series of heavy padlocks. I guessed that he had to be the owner of the gym, or, at the very least, the manager.It wasn't what you'd call a sparkling fitness centre. At first glance it was a spit and sawdust sort of a place. On the walls there were yellowing photographs of male and female bodybuilders, some of whom had been well known in their day. The photos, like the rest of the place, needed updating.There were plenty of free weights and benches. Barbells and dumbbells were scattered around untidily on the floor. There were wall bars and pulleys plus a number of heavy multi-gym machines. The place was heavy duty.There was also a boxing ring, something you don't get in many London gyms nowadays.I was pushed into the ring and made to strip down to my underpants. Then I was instructed to wait there.I was beginning to feel very uneasy.
The three guys disappeared into what must have been a changing room, and came back wearing boxing gloves. Kemal was carrying a fourth pair of gloves. He handed them to me saying: "Put 'em on"
I was terrified and shaking like a leaf. The three of them began closing in on me, putting up their gloves and punching at the air in sharp jabs. It looked as if I was going to be expected to fight all three of them at once. Or become a punch bag.Apart from the fact that they were all twice the size of me, I'd never really punched anybody in my life !I just stood there are gawped at them.They lowered their gloves and peered back at me.
"Put the gloves on. Fight, you fucker," the guy with the shaved Mohawk shouted, pushing me roughly in the chest with his glove.
Kemal shrugged his shoulders and looked at the others:
"It's no good,"he said, "this ain't going to work. Look at him ! We've got ourselves a pussy boy. I think he's about to cry"
I was indeed close to tears. Scared out of my wits and trembling all over. A sort of glint came into Kemal's eyes.
"I think we'll have to resort to humiliation," he said.
The gloves were taken off and I was led out of the ring, over to some wall bars. They forced me down on to a rubber mat and made me sit against the bars, my hands behind my back. They bound my wrists to the bars.
"So, you liked our arses, did you, you little fuck?" said Tomasz, bringing his big olive clad backside down over my face and letting out a loud humongous fart.Kemal and Craig stood by and sniggered with approval.
"Give him another one, Tom," said Kemal, and Tomasz obliged with another he-man fart that was even louder and just as smelly.I writhed in shock and asphyxiation. I couldn't believe that this huge Polish bodybuilder had just farted through his trousers all over my face.
Now Craig was standing over me, placing his feet wide apart and rubbing his faded denim shorts up and down my face, getting his arse cheeks on either side of my nose."Yeah, smell this one, baby," he chortled, and after giving me one strong blast through his shorts, he unbuttoned his Levi cut-offs, pulled down the back of his underpants and, sticking his hairy, sweaty bum hole back over my nose, he gave me another one twice as potent.
"Now it's my turn," said Kemal with glee and satisfaction. "Okay, little perv boy, you liked my arse enough on stage, let's see how much you like it now." And pushing his giant, prize winning mega glutes over my face, making sure that my nose was well up into his stinking crack, he cut a thunderous, vibrating fart that was loud enough to wake the dead.
My eyes watered and my head span from the appalling stink, but my cock was beginning to get aroused. There was no way I could hide the fact that part of me was enjoying this. I had to be careful not to be too obvious, otherwise the boxing gloves might go on again.I sat there on the rubber mat, wrists tied to the wall bars behind me, pretty well naked and looking up at these three big strong musclemen, all of whom were looking back down at me with sneers on their faces.
"What a fucking wimp," said Tomasz. "I can't believe how he just took our farts.He's just fucking pathetic." And with that, he whipped out his dick and began to piss all over my belly and underpants.
"Yeah, fucking little wimp," echoed the other two, laughing, taking their cocks out and spraying me with bodybuilder piss.
"My feet are itching like fuck," said Craig, looking down at me. "They've got all sweaty. They must be really stinking by now. I reckon somebody is going to have to lick them clean"
Kemal ambled over to the juice bar and came back with two stools and a big smirk on his face.Then he went back for a third one. Even then, wrists bound and totally at their mercy, I couldn't take my eyes off Kemal's arse as he walked back for the third stool.They sat, all three of them, perched on stools, towering above me, They all took their boots off and began flexing their muscles. Seen silhouetted against the spotlights in the gym ceiling, they looked even more massive and muscular than ever. From where I was sitting their thighs looked huge. I didn't know what they had in store for me, but humiliation sounded better than a broken nose. Craig waggled his foot under my nostrils. His socks were damp and smelt like over-ripe cheese. He began pushing his toes against my lips, trying to force open my mouth with his big toe. I knew all attempts at resistance would be pointless, so I put my tongue out and started licking the ball of his foot. He wiped his stinking nylon socks over my mouth several times. God,his feet were so sweaty ! Dominating me from above, a masterful sneer on his lips,he idly fingered the growing bulge in his cut-off Levis. As he dragged his foot backwards and forwards across my mouth, I thought that, even with that Mohawk hair cut, he could have been a powerfully built drill sergeant in the U.S. Marines. With his shaved head and bull neck, I could imagine him bullying and dominating subordinate men, making them do whatever he wanted. I could see him standing there naked, feet wide apart, forcing the men in his platoon to sniff his big sweaty arse and balls. I fixed my gaze on his Mohawk and then on his hairy powerful legs. I felt that maybe I should lick even harder.
"Yeah, that's the way to do it. Uh-huh," he said, still with a sneer in his voice. He bent forward and removed his putrid socks, rubbing them a few times firmly over my nose and mouth before tossing them aside."Lick my toes," he commanded, waggling his foot again under my nose. I took the big toe into my mouth and sucked on it slowly."Mmmm, fuck yeah. Now all the other toes, lick 'em nicely, one by one," he added more softly.I complied. Each toe I sucked as if it were my favourite. I was even beginning to savour the rich salty taste of his foot sweat. As I got into my work, I could feel that his determination to humiliate me was giving way to the pleasure he was getting out of what I was doing to him. "Now in between," he murmured, and I rolled my tongue into the crevice between each toe, licking each one out, sucking the foot cheese slowly and deliberately, as if it were the finest foot cheese that money could buy.
While I busied myself on Craig's feet, Polish Tomasz slid down from his stool and placed a foot under my crotch. He got his toe into my piss soaked underpants, and began to lift me slightly, by placing his foot under my arse crack. Then he began to massage the crack, slowly rolling his foot to the left and to the right. My balls moved up and down with every contraction of his calf muscles.I could see that he was enjoying the power he knew he had over me. He looked down and removed his foot from my bum hole, and placed his heel firmly but softly on my balls. He wasn't hurting me, but he was making it abundantly clear that he could. His lip curled and a semi-sadistic smile spread across his face. He was playing with me, letting me know how easy it would be for him to use me as his slut.
Kemal watched all this and then went over to the bar. He came back with an i-phone in his hand.
"I've got a great camera in this phone. Does videos as well," he said meaningfully. "Now it's our turn, camera man, We've got plans for you tonight, and it's all going to be recorded. We'll have enough to blackmail you for life. Don't doubt me,"....................................................................................................................................................................................
There were more farts, more humiliation. There was more toe sucking and plenty of pissing. It seemed to go on for hours and it was all recorded on the phone.I don't know how much of themselves would have been on there. I guess it was mostly close ups of me.I was untied from my sitting position against the wall bars. My piss soaked underpants were stripped off and my face wiped with them a number of times. Finally they were stuffed into my mouth and I was made to chew on them for yet more photos.In the meantime the three of them removed their pants, though they still kept their vests or t-shirts on.My ankles were then bound together and I was forced to kneel on the rubber mat with my hands tied behind my back..
"Now show us what a cock sucker you are for big guys," said Tomasz, and whacked me across the mouth with his thick uncut fuckpiece.The violence of it obviously excited him as his cock rapidly began to grow. He whacked me across the mouth with it again, and I fancied I even saw a bit of pre-cum ooze out.It soon became a huge throbbing monster and I was told to take it in my mouth.Tomasz smirked "You see what a cock suck he is for Polish guys" he said proudly, but he was wrong.I gagged. Try as I might,he was just too big for me.I had gagged before we had even started to get going.With a grunt of disapproval, Tomasz took his weapon out of my mouth and glared down at me, frowning. The other two were laughing,
"Open," he barked angrily. "Open wide, and keep open"
He aimed a stream of hot golden piss straight down my gullet. Some of splashed over the sides of my mouth.
"Now swallow," he commanded firmly.
Once again I followed his orders, accepting the punishment from his piss-hose as a just and fitting penance. I had failed to give him what he had wanted. I needed to make amends.
I knew that Kemal and Craig were watching intently, and that it was all being recorded. As a conciliatory and clearly submissive gesture, I looked up at Tomasz, leaned forward slightly, and very deliberately extended my tongue to lick his balls.I saw him raise his eyebrows slightly and turn to look at the other two.
"Bring a weight bench over," said Tomasz.
Kemal brought one over. Tomasz looked at me sternly and then turned his back to me. He put his hands on either side of the weight bench to give himself some support and stability and presented his big white manly arse for inspection. Conscious that this was a reward on his part (and for me a dream come true) I placed my nose into his crack and sniffed audibly.It stank. The aroma was rich and heavy, intensely sweaty and male. Nevertheless his arse was clean, even around his pucker hole..I ran my nose several times up and down his deep inviting crack, sniffing loudly all the time to show my total appreciation. Tomasz gave a contented sigh and settled into position.I inserted my tongue very slowly but assertively into his waiting shit hole. I wanted him to know that this was something I really knew how to do. Tomasz began moving his arse slowly up and down, as if he were wiping his arse on my face.My tongue poked even deeper into his man hole and he moaned a little. I licked and sucked with enthusiasm, knowing that his friends were recording how this big Polish stud was getting his arse eaten out. I wanted it to look good.I must have eaten Tomasz's butt for a good half hour. The other two left us to it, going away probably to discuss what form the humiliation was going to take next.
A short break was what came next. Kemal got some cold cans of drink from the juice bar, and I assumed that part of my humiliation would be to remain kneeling and tied up, having to watch the three of them quench their thirst, while they got ready to piss on me all over again.But no, the restraints on my wrists were taken off, and I was allowed a can of drink too.There seemed to be a slight change in the way in which they were treating me. They seemed less angry. They seemed now to be getting a certain amount of perverted pleasure out of what they were putting me through.. More and more I sensed that these three men, despite being heterosexual, harboured something that was subconsciously homo-erotic in the intense bond that they felt for one another. The humiliation that I was being subjected to, even the anxiety that I had been made to feel, was beginning to feel like a privilege, an initiation into a closely guarded sexual secret.I had often thought how ironic it was that straight male bodybuilders enjoy admiration mainly from other men. Outwardly the bodybuilding world is emphatically heterosexual, but there are certain truths that are rarely referred to.
"Don't go anywhere," said Kemal, as the three of them went off again to the locker room.Hoping that it wouldn't be boxing gloves again, I waited obediently. What emerged was unexpected.All three of them had stripped. They came out wearing only boots and jock straps.Before my eyes was a cavalcade of superhuman muscular perfection: massively developed pecs, arms and shoulders, unbelievably thick and powerful thighs, mouth watering humongous glutes.Here were three veritable musclegods to be worshipped.
The three muscular bodybuilders surrounded me and pressed up close with their hot hard bodies, allowing their hands to wander down to my cock and balls, and over my arse crack and buttocks.
"Yeah, piggy in the middle," one of them joked.
Craig, the American with the Mohawk, put his hand behind my neck and pulled me down to his armpit.
"My pits stink, man," he said."I liked the way you cleaned Tom's arse hole, and I loved what you did to my feet. Now get down under my fucking pits and make them sweet again."
I sniffed under his arms and sucked the thick hair in his armpits. The odour was strong; he hadn't showered for days..
"Oh yeah," he murmured, " we've got ourselves a real pig this time boys. Come on, pig, lick out my big sweaty pits. They're real ripe and nasty, man. This is real man stink, the stuff you faggots dream of.. I didn't have time to shower after my last few workouts. I must have been waiting for a pig like you to come along and lick me clean."He drew me across to the nipples on his big hairy pecs, telling me to suck on those too.Then he raised his other arm: "Take in more of that bodybuilders stink, you little fucker. Get your face into my big unwashed armpit,"He spat in my face and made me sniff and lick his second pit, before pulling me back to his nipples once again.
Tomasz, meanwhile, was pressing his fat uncut cock against my arse crack. It felt hot and stiff. His strong fingers were working my tits from behind, twisting them and squeezing them hard. It felt as if he was planning to get his cock up inside me and fuck me hard. I thought how much I'd envy any woman who was lucky enough to be his bitch.
Kemal was slowly pulling on my cock with one hand and gently yanking my balls with the other, as if trying to milk me. He drew me away from Craig's nipples, bringing his face close up to mine, and whispering: "Okay, camera man, my balls need a good wash. I've been sweating all day while wankers like you got off on it. Now it's my fucking turn. Get under me and start sucking my bollocks."
The other two drew back a little. and Kemal stood there with his feet wide apart and his arms proudly folded. I sank to my knees and slavishly licked his huge sweaty balls, juggling them on my tongue, licking noisily for his pleasure. As I licked his balls I looked up at my short but massive muscle god. I was worshipping at the temple of total manhood.
As I did so I got the vaguest whiff of shit from his arse crack, and knew that I wanted more....................................................................................................................................................................................................................
We were back at the weight bench, and I was laying on it, with Tomasz and Craig kneeling at either side of me. Kemal, sitting behind me, had taken hold of my ankles and was pulling them back over my head, like he would with the grips of a lat machine. Tomasz and Craig started fingering my arse hole. Kemal pulled my ankles back even more, so I was wide open for whatever came my way. As the men began putting in more fingers, they told me they were going to share me like a whore and use me as their collective man cunt. As they stroked and teased my hole, they used gobs of spit for lubrication. Then someone remembered there should be Vaseline in the first aid kit.They found a bit pot of it, and started smearing it thickly the whole length of my crack, working it in with their fingers, their elbows and the backs of their hands.
"Slip and slide" said one of them, laughing.
I wasn't that clean. I hadn't had a shit since early morning. The more the two men worked my hole, the shittier the whole thing was getting. It was beginning to feel like a shit massage as well as a multiple finger fuck, but despite the smell, the further they went and the messier it got, the more I was enjoying the physical sensation. I knew I was beginning to stink, but the men seemed completely unphased. They continued to stretch my hole and poke away with their fingers, while Kemal urged them to slap on more Vaseline.From time to time one of them would bring a couple of shit laden fingers to my nose and mouth, saying something like:
"Come on, little shit arse, lick 'em clean !"
Tomasz and Craig worked my arse like that for ten or fifteen minutes, putting their fingers into my hole or slapping it with the palms of their hands. They even started using their forearms to rub in the grease. It felt good, having these burly studs rubbing the grease into my arse crack. I loved the fact that I was completely helpless and in their power.The shittier it got, the dirtier the expression on their faces became. Their language got much dirtier as well. They were really getting into it.They hadn't joked when they had called me their "piggy in the middle".As if I wasn't getting dirty enough, Craig started stroking my cock with a mixture of grease and my own shit. When I tried to touch my cock, though, he knocked my hand away.There was no way that these studs were going to allow me to start cumming. At least not for a while. While Craig was massaging my dick, Tomasz began rubbing shit all over my balls. I felt it beginning to cake on my pubes. Kemal was egging them on all the time.It felt as if something else was about to happen.
Receiving a nod from Kemal, Tomasz and Craig took their hands away and moved round to the back of me. They took my ankles from Kemal, who then came round to the front.With a virile look of total domination in his eyes, Kemal now placed his massive pulsating cock against my shitty fuck hole and plunged it deep inside me.Any pain I might have felt was instantly negated by the excitement of having this brick shithouse of a bodybuilder shaft my man cunt with a cock the size of my forearm.Here was the muscle god I'd always wanted, giving me the kind of fuck I'd never even dared dream about.As far as he was concerned, I was just a wimp, a weaker man who had dared to cross him.He felt he had every right to fuck me.And at the same time, he was re-establishing his authority as alpha male within the group. reminding his two mates that they came lower in the pecking order.
Either way, this was a fuck made in heaven. My body sucked him in as he thrust deeper and deeper with his huge swollen cock. The fact that I was now thoroughly shitty seemed to put him off not one iota. He just stabbed away at my shit and growled in pleasure, calling me his whore and his pussy boy.
Then he demanded that I lick his cock clean..........................................................................................................................................................................................
"Fuuuck !" said Kemal to his buddies. "Fuuuck, the pussy boy was good !"Whether it was meant as a compliment or another level of humiliation I don't know, but I felt pretty proud of myself.
Craig and Tomasz just guffawed.
Craig said: "Yeah, wait till you see him on the video. Look what a fucking mess he's in !"
Kemal looked down at me and said : "You need hosing down."
They led me into the changing rooms this time and through to the showers. The whole area was pretty compact - just a few lockers, a couple of toilet booths and some urinals.
"Get down on the floor," they ordered.
They stood around me. all three of them, pointing their dicks at me and aiming more streams of piss. Their idea of cleaning me up was to piss on me.My balls, my arse crack, my chest, my face, they were all targets.Then Kemal stopped pissing, but Tomasz and Craig just carried on, aiming their piss at my mouth, telling me it was time to learn to drink "real men's piss" and to learn to enjoy it.Their piss was putrid and sweet at that same time. My eyes stung, my hair was soaking.I felt like a public latrine.Kemal stood back watching it all, a strange smile on his face and a wicked expression in his eyes.
He moved back into one of the cubicles and took a seat on the toilet.He made a signal to the other two, who shunted my body up so that the top of my head was now firmly placed against the base of the ceramic john.On either side of my head were Kemal's feet and his strong muscular legs. I looked up and saw the expression on his face. It was a mixture of triumphal pride and sheer unadulterated lust. He began to fart. The strength of it hit me like an atomic cloud, and loudly, for all to hear, I began inhaling my master's superfarts.Kemal opened his legs even wider and I heard the shit leaving his arsehole, and plopping down into the water.Tomasz and Craig pinned me down as Kemal continued to shit, and then, drawing himself up with a grunt of satisfaction, he stood feet wide apart, so that I was staring up at his glorious shit-laden crack. He already knew that I wanted it.He knew that I wanted to be his slave.But Kemal was not going to be satisfied with letting it stop there,
"Eat my shit, camera man," he hissed. And, rubbing his stinking arse hole all over my willing face and mouth, he opened his anus and started crapping all over again.As his turds piled up on top of me, his two friends watched in silence and admiration.They filmed the whole fucking performance.My cock was raging.
"Okay, go for it, camera man," Kemal murmured, "Beat off !"
I began to jack off, breathing in the stink of my shit master. As he continued to squat with his big shitty arse in my face, I heard his breath quicken, and knew that he was jacking off at the same time. I could hear Craig and Tomasz egging us both on, telling Kemal to shit on me even more, but encouraging me to get my face in there and eat their muscle buddy's turds.The juice came with an incredible rush, like a tidal surge of orgasmic spunk. The feeling seemed to rise up from the very depths of my arse hole and, as I spurted my jizz into the air, Kemal cried out in the midst of his own orgasm, farting loudly in my face as a final flourish.
Just seconds later Craig and Tomasz, who had been wanking over us, covered the two of us with even more thick and creamy spunk.
The air stank.
It took ages to get cleaned up, but after the showers I was handed back my camcorder.
"We don't need it," said Kemal. "We're giving it back to you. Your tape's still in there. We haven't erased it. But before you go getting any bright ideas about posting our arses on the web, just remember what we've got on you now. You won't want any of that ever coming to light."
I have never had sex that could compare with Kemal and his buddies. For these straight bodybuilders, it all just began as an act of punishment, as revenge for something that had infringed upon their macho sense of pride. Somehow it had all got twisted into an extraordinary walk on the wild side, an expedition into a world of unbridled, homoerotic raunch. Something that nobody at the start of the evening could have ever imagined.
I'm sure that nothing like that had ever happened to any one of them before......
Or am I ?