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" 19 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"All I can say is, well I sure didn't figure when I got up this morning that I'd be in bed with another guy."
"Tell me something, Jordan?"
"What's that Josh?" the twenty-five year old inquired.
Looking up from his savoring of the tiny nip, embedded in the black chest fir, Jordan Soto smiled. The original question became vague, as Josh took in the adorable facial features. Instead of alluding to the question prepared, regarding this a.m., he opted for another subject.
"You're enjoying my body a lot, aren't you?"
Turning his face from Josh's, his hands firming up both of the twenty-four year olds incredibly hairy pecs, Jordan gives the hairy mass only one lick.
"I--I've only dreamed of having a guy my age with this amount of lush body hair to run my tongue through, Josh."
As he said it, Josh's eyes followed Jordan's, gazing over the fine black hair that began at the top of Josh's shoulders, the base of his neck, to where his body met Jordan's own partially smooth chest.
"Y'know Jordan, that's the sweetest thing a guy has ever said to me?"
"Really, Josh?"
"No. Just yankin' your chain!"
For the prank Josh played on Jordan, he received the punishment of having his tender left nip vice-gripped between Jordan's teeth and stretched.
"Oooooh no-no-no-no-nooooooooo!" Josh chimed out.
Literally rising to the occasion, Josh did a mighty crunch, to alleviate the stretching of his nip beyond the mass of chest fur, partially lifting Jordan's bod, too.
"Le'go. le'go, le'go," hands to the sides of Jordan's face, Josh pleaded.
"Hee, hee, hee," Jordan giggled, releasing the stretched nub. "Heeey, get away," he then brushed away Josh's hand from touching the stinging nip.
"Sadist!" Josh accused.
However, Jordan countered the verbal attack, his hand slipping between bodies, "Hmm... doesn't seem like all your body parts agree with that assumption?"
With no choice, but to give in, now that the evidence presented itself with the truth, Josh lay back, hands behind his head, resigning to the fact.
Eyes widened, Jordan gazed upon the tufts of thick pit hair, "Aaaaaaaaah!"
"You into hair or something?" Josh continued the onslaught of accusations.
"Oh yeah... and I'm not letting you out of this bed until I've licked every inch of your muscled, hairy bod, Joshua Courson!"
"Hmm... I shave my balls."
"Every hairy inch... And then some!" Jordan amended his decision.
"Then you better get busy, muscleman," looking to the invisible watch on his wrist, Josh replies, "it's only six hours till daylight arrives."
"My shift doesn't start until eleven."
"Mine starts at eight and I've never been late."
Giddy, Jordan says, "There's always a first time, you know?" Then with a more sexy attitude, he informs Josh, with a lick here and a lick there, "there's just soooooo," lick, "sooo much," lick, "hair adorning," lick, "this luscious," lick, "hairy body."
The last lick, to the side of Josh's pec, brought Jordan inline with the left arm pocket. Towering over Josh, instead of behaving like the submissive bottom, the muscle jock hovered, holding both of Josh's wrists above his head, as if preparing his pits for a tongue workout.
"Um, do me a favor, Jordan?"
"No favors," Jordan replied, as if holding the reins in the balance.
"I was just going to suggest that we get in a few lip-locks before you start eating out my sweaty pits?"
"Mmmm... Free condiments?"
"Oh man, you've got it bad, jockboy!"
Jordan really did have it bad... real bad, for Josh's body hair. Both sweated profusely, as the room temperature, but also body temps. The hair around one of Josh's nips, thoroughly wet down from the lush tonguing, saliva grooming the swirled hair around the small brown nub, served as the beginning of the long night of oral pleasuring. But there was one thing that Jordan didn't mind giving into first, as his mouth covered Josh's, in the few short seconds following the requested action.
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As the clock in the hallway struck twelve, Matthew Diggles collapsed, all sweaty, onto Steve's chest, having come to fruition of the hottest fuck he's ever encountered.
"Oh man, you're so fuckin' tight, Steve."
"Does that mean you're claiming the top position?"
"Most of the time," Matt informed him.
"All I can say," Steve stopped, midsentence.
Both hands massaged up and down the twenty-four year olds lats, massaging both shoulder blades, to the small of the back, then taking in some glute action, the dense sweat providing the lube to slide his hands.
"What, Steve?" Matt replied, half-conscious.
"I like you a lot, Matt."
"Like, Steve? I thought we traveled beyond that."
"You're right. I can't believe that I'd be saying this, I mean at such a young age and...."
"Steve, cut the crap and say it?"
Smiling, he gave in, pronouncing each word, "I... love... you, Matthew Diggles."
"Hmm."
"What?"
"Nothing. I just didn't expect to hear a proposal of marriage so eloquent, Steve."
"Pra-proposal of marriage?"
"Yeah. And just think of it..." Matt replied, his convex bod now alert, belly to belly, elbows perched on Steve's lightly haired, blonde chest, "after only two days. I didn't think I'd snag a guy in that short a time. I thought meeting a guy and falling in love with him took longer."
"Oh yeah? Haven't you ever heard of love at first sight, jock?"
"Jock? Oh no. Don't ever accuse me of that, Steve."
"Why not?"
Then, sitting up, his ass sitting on the wet mess Steve's cock had made, shooting his load onto his own stomach and pubes, Matt began lecturing.
"This," Matt proceeded, running his hands over Steve's tight abs, his smaller digits massaging the nooks and crannies of Steve's ribs and abs, "is what you call, worked out'." Then, his hands going to his own body, he grabbed up his own love handles'. "This, is not exactly what you would call `jock'."
"Oh?" Steve replied, both verbally and adding his thumbs and fingers to pinching the inches, "Seems to me that all the work you did around the condo, has decreased the body fat some."
Matt appreciated the gesture, falling back down on the cum-slopped stomach, pairing up lips with Steve.
Breaking off the lip-lock, Matt tells Steve, "All I can say is that I'm doing it once and only once."
"I thought you liked my tight ass?"
Rolling his eyes, Matt replies, "Not your ass, doofus! I meant cleaning up this pigstye."
"Oh.. oh... oh... yeah, I knew that," Steve tried the cover up.
Then, in a more dominant mode, Matt says, "As for your tight ass chute, you can count on me massaging the velvety interiors on a daily basis!"
Steve didn't have to say a word, as Matt's own pubes, lying over his lover's got jolted with an intense twitch. He also sensed their love making hadn't quite approached the winning stretch, at the end of this night's marathon.
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"Real nice set up you have here," Paul Vrabel admired, handling one of the four leather straps attached to the top, left of the bondage table.
The forty-five year old homophobic security guard, at Advantage Exercise Equipment, went on to compliment the creator of the basement dungeon, in the private dwelling of Pete Morgan.
"Tell me, Paul," Jed Pierce, the forty year old cousin of Pete, asks, hand on his shoulder, "have you ever set foot inside the walls of a dungeon?"
"Um, no."
"Then I take it you've never experienced playing with a man's body?"
"Well, not other than working a guy over."
"Working a guy over, you say?"
As Paul stood there, chatting away with the six foot, four inch Pierce, he eyed up the black attire, new to his mental vocabulary.
"Sure. You know, Chuck here holds the guy's arms in a full nelson and I work over his gut," Paul described, gesturing the deliverance of his fists, on impact with a hot set of abs.
Jed laughed his ass off.
"What's so funny?"
"Working a guy over with your fists, Paul?"
"Sure. Feels real hot when my fist makes impact."
"Bullshit compared to what we do here. Ever see one of these, Paul?" Jed inquires, holding a leather collar, with three chains hung from it.
"Not really. What's it for?"
"Lots of ways to use it. Care to witness it's use?"
"Where? How?"
Reaching down, Jed grabs, point blank, at Paul's crotch.
"Hey! Watch the fuckin' hands. I'm no queer!"
"As if any of us are, Paul?" Jed lies. "Ain't that why you're here?" Jed questions.
"Yeah, but... you... you grabbed at my balls."
"I thought you wanted to see a live demonstration?"
In reality, slated a homophobic' group, Pete Morgan got the gist of Chuck Merritt's drift. Two security guards coming down on homosexuals. Talking it over with Jed, Pete thought it would be best to rid the world of two more homophobic men, just like they did with the two gay-bashing college jocks. Jed Pierce had a passion for men's bodies. Using them to their full potential. The forty year old eyed up Paul Vrabel, upon his descent into the dungeon. Immediately he sensed some fun to be had with the security guard. At first, the uniform turned him on, but when he began to see the shirt stretched across the pecs, the tight crotch, silhouetted with what spelled out a good time to be had, well his mouth watered for some action. Gay victim or not, Jed Pierce wanted something. Whatever his victim sought after wasn't on his agenda. It was all about what he' wanted.
"So, you've lost interest, I take it, Paul?"
"No. I'm still interested in your club."
"Well, in order to get a true perspective of what our gay boys experience, we usually ask our `new members' to get a little hands on experience, if you catch my drift, Paul?"
Even though Pete Morgan, Jed's forty-one year old cousin knew the scam Jed was pulling on Paul, he went along with it. He could see where Jed intended this to lead. Knowing Chuck for a short time, that close friendship had not developed yet. He sensed he could stand to have some fun with the thirty-eight year old security guard, as Jed had fun with his playtoy.
"First, you going to tell me what that thing's for, Jed?"
"This leather collar here?"
"Yeah," Paul acknowledges Jed's inquiry.
"Goes around a guy's balls."
"Around his balls, you say?"
"Yeah." For all intensive purposes, Jed toned down the torturing fun, intended.
"Then what?"
"Anything goes. Weights could be added, a rope cinched to a winch."
"So, what you're essentially telling me is that this contraption...."
"Ball stretcher."
"Yes, ball stretcher...stretches a guy's balls?"
"You got a smart buddy here, Chuck," Pete answered Paul's question.
Chuck smiled. If only he knew what the two, Pete in particular, had planned for him and Paul.
"And you want to use that on me?"
Lying, Pete backed up Jed with, "We all tried it, but Jed didn't apply it to us the way we used it on those college jocks."
Chuck asked, "You had that around your balls, Pete?"
"Sure. In fact it felt kind of nice. Gave me a nice erection."
"Tell them about the big load you shot, Pete," Jed irks him on with the lie.
"Oh shit yeah! The man-juice kept on coming."
"Felt that good, did it?" Paul replied, picturing the orgasm, the white cum shooting out of Pete's shaft.
"So, you up for a little demonstration?"
Chuck, the dope, blurts out, "Hey, would it be alright if I tried it, too?"
Pete looks to Jed, who smiles with a return glance.
"Of course it would be," Jed replies. "What about you, Paul? Interested in shooting a hot load?"
Shrugging his shoulders, Paul replies, "Sure. Why not?"
"Then why don't you boys go on ahead and strip down?"
"Strip down?" Paul asks.
Chuck responds, "Meaning, like take our clothes off?"
"This little doohickey," Jed holds up the ball stretcher, "ain't gonna work through your pants!"
"I guess not," Paul realized, going for the buttons on his shirt.
"While you boys are stripping, Pete and I will get things ready. When you're done, step over to the center of the dungeon, will you?"
As the two security guards began removing their uniforms they chatted, but so did Pete and Jed.
"So, Pete, how much do you think we can make off of these dumb shits?"
"You're not serious, Jed?"
"Why not? Of course we probably wouldn't get top dollar, but they sure as hell look like a lot of fun to train."
"But they're security guards, Jed."
"All the more fun, Pete. In fact," Jed turns and looks at Paul, the hot pecs, worked out abs, muscled biceps, then continues, "fuck, it's gonna be so hot breaking down that muscle god!"
"And I get to break that stocky chump?"
"Hey, if you don't want to workover that gut, Pete, I'll take him on after I'm finished with the muscle stud."
"Oh no. I think I can get my jollies out of playing with him."
It's then that Jed spied Paul lifting the elastic of his briefs, lowering them from his thighs.
"Oh fuck, will you look at the size of them balls!"
"Balls? He's not even hard and he's gotta be packin' a perfect 10!"
"Y'know, Pete, I think it might take quite awhile to break these two slaveboys in."
"Might be fun getting 'Chunky'," Pete mocked Chuck's name, "on the treadmill, a strap to his back."
"That's what I call 'whipping a boy into shape', Pete," Jed, peering at Paul Vrabel, admires, "if it weren't for that jockboy complaining that he was a top, protecting that virgin ass of his..."
Pete finished Jed's statement, "You wouldn't know how good it is porkin' a boy's ass?"
Rubbing his cock, through the codpiece of his leather chaps, Jed replies, "Don't knock it till you try it, Pete."
Then, eyeing up Chuck's bubble butt, Pete tells Jed, "Hmm... might just take my first ass tonight."
"C'mon," Jed informs Pete, hand on his shoulder, "time's a wasting and my balls are churning, cousin."
As they watch Chuck and Paul advance towards them, Jed tells Pete, "Might think about turning Mr. Muscles here into my own personal slavetoy!"
"Never thought about us having our own slaves, Jed."
"Could stand to take ass every night after a hard day's work," Jed states. Then, as Paul gets within earshot, he says, "Ready for some fun?"
Little do Paul and Chuck realize that this is the end to life as they have known it.
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Continued......
Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.