The following story is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature, and is not meant to accurately depict, nor reflect upon persons in towns, cities, or governmental areas, in which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story by law. This is fiction. Do not forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety matter'; got condom?
"Muscle Jocks For Domination" 18 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
"Hey, this is really good! What's in it?"
"A little bit'o'this'n'a little bit'o'that, Steve. Like it?"
"Very tasty," Steve replied.
His eyes focused on looking across the table, he eyed up the two brown, perky nips, nestled against the blonde chest fur.
"Are you always this horny, all the time, Steve?"
"What on earth do you mean, Matthew?" Steve smiled, well knowing what Matt meant!
"More wine?"
"A little."
"Two much is not good for the testosterone levels, you know, Steve?"
"No more, then!"
"Hee heee.... Not a proven fact though, so indulge."
"Hmm... I'd rather indulge in something else!"
"Oh and don't I know it, Steve."
Looking about the room, Steve says, "You did a nice job in here. How do you do it so fast?"
"I have a confession to make."
"Uh-oh."
"Not so bad. I skipped class today."
"You what? Maaaaaatt!"
"Don't get your balls all twisted up, Steve. It was my second clase, not anything I can't make up."
"Oh. Well you know best." With a forkful of spaghetti, Steve warns, "but don't go making this a habit."
"Yes, father!"
Matt leans on the table.
"Can I tell you something, Steve?"
His arms crisscrossed, Matt blocks out Steve's view.
"Do I have a choice?"
"If you don't want to know, I don't have to tell."
"Do tell."
"Nah. Not that important, I guess."
Placing his fork in his plate, purposefully rattling the fork against the white, Corelle plate, Steve sucks his teeth.
"Alright, what is it?"
Humiliating Steve enough, with his silence, Matt replies, "I like living here. I hope you're not going to ask me to move out."
"Why would I do that, Matthew?"
Knowing Steve began to get more in a serious mode, he replies with the simple truth, "Steve, I'm really beginning to like you a lot and... " looking around, "I want to make this a home for both of us."
Looking at Matt, this time Steve didn't perceive him as a sex object. Real feelings penetrated his inner being, as he sat there, staring into eyes that spoke back to him.
"Y'know, I'd like that, Matthew."
Reaching across the table, Steve extends his forearms as well. Their hands, as if understanding their heartfelt feelings, entwined.
"Steve... I know it's only been like a day that we've known each other, but I...."
Before a rational explanation could follow, Steve gave in also, saying, "I want you too, Matt."
"You do?"
Grinning, Steve continued, "I....."
However, their emotions flowing on an all time high, begged for more than words could tell. Both rising from the table, met at the end of the marblesque surface, hands still interlocking, until arms caressed. Lips began to slowly seal their contract, as their palms played up and down each other's backs.
%
"What are we going to do about that Luis kid, Paul?"
"Do? Nothing. The kids scared shit. Besides, he's a dumb little faggot. Who's going to believe his word over ours?"
"I suppose, you, being with the company since it almost started."
"We've got nothing to worry about, Chuck."
"By the way, I was talking with Jed Pierce this afternoon and he agrees that there's way too many faggots working here."
"From the boss right on down as I see it," Paul Vrabel, the forty-five year old security chief informed. "Wasn't like this in the olden days."
"In those days, if they were faggots, they just didn't tell."
"Right. So, what does Jed have to say about all this?"
"He wants in. Says he's got a cousin that knows how to deal with queers."
"Oh? And how does that go, Chuck?"
"Got himself a nice little setup in his basement."
"Oh?" Paul grew increasingly interested, as he sat up in his swivel chair, withdrawing his hands from behind his head.
"Yeah. His cousin is a member of a kind of secret society that's set on riding the world of the vermin."
"When do I get to meet this hero of justice?"
Smiling, Chuck saw this as a feather in his cap, both in Paul's eyes, as well as the group, particularly Jed's cousin's favor. He knew the group had ranks of leadership. The aspect of satisfying his power-hungry desires made him indulge in the greedy trait.
"Tonight, after we get off. That soon enough?"
Even though totally straight, Paul's cock twitched at the thought.
"Not soon enough, but we're tied down until then, so that will have to do. Tell me more about this cousin. What's his name?"
"Pete. Pete Morgan. Around your age. Tall and built."
"A man with muscle."
"Works out in his basement. His gym doubles as a meeting place for `the group'."
"Tell me more about this group."
"I don't have many of the facts, never having met with them before."
"What do you know, Chuck?"
"About ten or twelve guys, interested in eradicating the faggot population."
"Sounds like a group of guys that I can affiliate myself with."
"Hear about the two college guys that disappeared a few months back?"
"Yeah. Big investigation."
"Caught in the park, in the jon and brought before `the group'."
"Yeah? And?"
Then looking about the security office, Chuck leans in, as Paul does the same.
"Y'see, Jed's cousin knows of this underground slavery ring."
"Slavery?"
"Yeah. The group helps recondition the faggots, then they sell them off to this slave trader."
"Nah. In this day and age?" The head chief of Advantage security questions.
"For real. I'm telling you straight, Paul."
"You mean to tell me they snatched two college jocks and sold them off to a slave trader?"
"You got it."
"But why do they need to meet as a group and decide this? How come Jed's cousin can't just sell them off, straightaway?"
"Training."
"Training?"
"More like, broken."
"Broken?"
"Their wills. I don't have the whole gist of all this, but that's generally what it's about, Paul. Interest you?"
Under the desk, the tent in Paul's security uniform could tell the truth.
"I wonder how much a head?"
"Selling off the slaves?"
"Yeah."
"Five grand a piece, I thought I heard Jed say."
"Shit! Five grand a head?"
"Yup."
"Damn, we could fuckin' retire with that kind of dough, from all the faggots around here!"
Paul saw dollar signs in front of him, instead of Chuck, sitting across the desk.
"It's not that easy, Paul. Too many guys disappearing from the same place would look kind of suspicious."
"You're right. No, we've got to plan this carefully. One at a time. Hmm... Bet it would be hot breaking Max Verraros' ass!"
"The Chairman of the Board? Isn't that starting a little too high on the totem pole, Paul?"
"You're right. No, we've got to start out with some inconsequential little faggot."
"How about Luis?"
"Yeah. That would be a good start. The little prick wouldn't know what is happening to him until it's too late, the dumb fuckin' spic!"
"Tonight we can bring his name up."
"Yeah and we'll make ourselves a nice little list, to follow."
"You know, Paul, it would be fun taking down Verraros."
"Yeah. Thinks he knows who he is, throwing his ass around here like he's God!"
"Would be cool seeing him on his knees, begging for mercy."
"Yeah. Work him over a little. Yeah, bet he could be fun."
Chuck couldn't see through the desk, as if xray vision, but if he could, he'd detect Paul stroking his cock through his pants, the long snake poking down his pants leg, ooze building up inside the dark blue fabric.
"Get Jed on the phone. We've gotta talk!" Paul ordered.
%
"That hurt?"
"Not much Avery. No, not at all."
"I'm trying to be as gentle as possible."
"Feels kind of funny having each of my nips bandaged up like this."
"I gather you have very sensitive nips, Sam?"
"My crotch fill your mind with those thoughts, Avery?"
Looking away from Sam's gaze, Avery's hand felt up the dark treasure trail, then traveling south on the three inch path, tunneling under the beltline.
"Ooooooooh!" Sam cried out, arching his back.
"Never mind the painkiller, eh Sam?"
"I'm yours!" Sam replied, surrendering his raging erection to Avery's jerk off tool.
"Not yet."
"Ooooooh!" Sam came down from his temporary high.
Releasing the pent up shaft, Avery slipped his hand out from Sam's pants. As quickly as unbuckling the belt buckle, he rebuckled.
"That's it, Avery?"
"The rest is a matter of time, Sam."
"Um, do you think my nips will heal up, Avery?"
"Oh sure. One of the more resilient parts of the body, but I will suggest one thing."
"I know. Refrain from anymore harsh, extra curricular activity."
"That and..." bending over the short distance to Sam's lips, he quickly pressed against Sam's lips, releasing and replying, "daily checkups?"
"I don't know. I'm a busy guy. The hospital is kind of off the beaten track for me."
"Oh no. I've got to keep checking up on this. Wouldn't want your nips to get infected. Oh yes, infection can be a tricky thing."
"Then, what would you suggest?"
Avery could see that Sam still hadn't caught on.
"I think you should stay at my place, until you're fully recovered."
"But I have an apartment."
"I have a house."
"So?"
"Sam, are you stupid or just dumb?"
"Moving kind of fast, aren't you Avery?"
Cleaning up, Avery replies, "A man sees what he wants, he seizes the opportunity, before it fades."
"Deep, man."
"Oh, you don't know how deep, Sam."
"Hmmm... suppose I shouldn't pass up this great opportunity to see `how deep' now, should I?"
A few things excited the hell out of Sam. One, the dominant attitude he picked up instantaneously from Avery. Also, to boot, the similar trait of loving and caring. To `top' it off, pardoning himself from formulating the unintentional pun, the physical being alluring to him as well.
"Look, Sam. Let me tell you straight. You turn me on. It's not only your hot looks. Sure, you've got a bod that's obviously seen the inside of a gym more than once and I find that incredibly sexy in a man."
"I see. Anything else, Avery?"
"Only other thing is... this..."
Even though Avery's chest pressed against his patients' bandaged sides of his pecs, Avery showed Sam what else lured him. First, it began as a kiss, but then Avery shifted his body, to give him leverage to hop up on the table, covering Sam's body. At first, Avery's clothes, scraping along the bandages on his sensitive, tormented nips, but as their crotches made the connection, the pangs of pain surrendered to total pleasure.
Pressing up, elbows anchored between the sides of Sam's body, between pecs and biceps, Avery replied, "So, what do you think?"
"I think in about an hour you should check my nips to make sure they're healing up properly!"
A smile from Sam gave the deciding factor.
Hopping off the table, Avery directed Sam, "Get dressed. We leave in five minutes."
Sam's emotions already reeled beyond the `liking' stages of a relationship.
%
"What do you want to do this weekend?"
"Whip this place into shape?"
"I thought is was `whipped'?"
Entering the bedroom, Matt replies, "Now those don't belong there."
Sideswiping Steve, Matt heads for the pants hanging over the chair.
"It's a start for me, though."
Smiling at Steve, Matt says, "I know it is. I'm real proud of you, Steve."
"You are?" The face lit up from the temporary frown.
"Yep."
After hanging the pants in the closet, Matt began to show Steve how proud he was of the two hundred and two pound muscled jock.
"Matt?"
"Yes, Steve?"
"Let's get into bed. I want to run something by you."
"Would that be your ass?"
"Hmm....." Steve gestured, wiggling his eyebrows. "Later."
Both watched, as each thumbed their briefs, stripping them down over their thighs. Each held them up, as if to say `where do they belong?'
"Here, I'll take them tonight."
As Steve surrendered his briefs, Matt took a whiff of the crotch.
"Kinky, are we?" Steve joked.
To Matt though, not at all. He loved the scent of man-briefs. He dropped his briefs into the hamper first, no big deal. But before letting Steve's low rise 2xist's drop, he brought the part that touches his shaft up to his nostrils and breathed it in deeply.
"Mmmmmmm!" He savored the aroma.
"Maybe we should have it canned into air freshener?"
"Yeah, okay," Matt replied, knowing Steve came to fetch him.
A foot to the pedal brought the lid up and the scented fabric dropped into the bin. As Steve turned to report back to the bedroom, Matt followed the sexy glutes. Thinking about the rear form, his cock twitched, his hand keeping it firm. His thoughts switched to the spoils of war; invasion, capture, conquer.
As they climbed into bed, Matt informed Steve, "Whatever it is you want to say to me, Steve, you had better hurry."
With a grin that resembled an 88 key grand piano, Steve's hand made an assessment of the situation.
"That was fast."
"I can't help it if you have a hot ass, Steve."
"Like I have a choice?"
"Well, you could save what you had to say, till later."
"I suppose what's fair is fair."
"And that's supposed to mean what, Steve?"
"It's not like I gave you a choice last night, now did I Matthew?"
Again Steve wiggled those eyebrows, creating a clear message. A small amount of lip-locking and Matt had Steve flat out on his back.
"Um, you're going to be gentle.. um, right?"
"I'm shorter than you, Steve."
"I'm 8.5. What are you?"
"You know how long you are, Steve?"
"I measured."
"How kinky!"
"At least I don't go around sniffing crotches."
That gave Matt a wicked, wicked idea. So, he was a few pounds lighter, but still had the element of surprise in his favor. Jumping upon Steve, his ass on his chest, he surrounded the muscle jock's shoulders with his knees, pinning him to the sheet.
"Heeeeeey.... What's this? What about fucking me?"
"After we get a little `kinky'?"
"Kinky? What tha...."
Actually, Steve thought it erotic, to have Matt's hairy balls lying right on top of his nostrils.
His hand reaching behind himself, massaging Steve's balls, Matt found no coercion necessary, demanding, "Sniff my crotch!"
"Oooooooooooooh!" Matt sighed.
Sensing Steve's following up on the order, the twenty-four year old began enjoying the wet tongue being forced in between his jock balls. His hands moved to his own thighs. Leaning back, Matthew's barreling 8c really began to feel the pressure to his left ballsac, lodged in between Steve's lips, as he sucked on the luscious treat.
"Ooooooh that feels so.. soooo awesome!" Matt complained of the sweet torture.
About five minutes later Matt drew up a new score of complaints.
"My turn!"
%
Continued.....
Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.