This story is about male/male relationships and contains graphic descriptions of sex.
You should not read this story if it is in any way illegal due to your age or residence.
This is a work of pure fiction. It mixes fictional characters and events with real people. However any real person mentioned in this work is purely an actor playing a part. This story in no way is meant to imply anything about the sexuality, personality, or behaviour of the actual person.
-------------- TURNING JONNY --------------
Set in the summer of 2003
For DS
The heat from the shower and the intoxicating menthol smell from his shower gel finally began to revive Jonny Wilkinson, but he still ached. He had been practicing his kicks for the last three hours, and using the same muscle groups and adopting his famous pre-kick pose repeatedly for so long had taken its toll. He was pleased with his accuracy, and had even managed to successfully kick penalties from some very difficult locations.
He shut off the shower, rubbed the water off his body and out of his hair, and then grabbed his towel from the hook and wrapped it round his waist. He wandered out into the empty changing room, quite glad it was peaceful and quiet rather than full of the normal raucous noise there would be if the whole team had been there. That had been yesterday over at Pennyhill Park, but today he had the whole place to himself at Twickenham, where they had been kind enough to let him train with the more realistic backdrop of towering stands behind the goalposts he was tuned to aim for.
He was pleased that he'd told Clive about the aches from doing this sort of intensive kicking training last time, as his coach had booked one of the team's sports massage therapists to come over to the stadium to tend to him afterwards and get him feeling human again. Grabbing his watch out of the his bag he saw that the massage was not due for another twenty minutes, so Jonny settled down on the bench, leant back against the wall, stretched out his aching legs and closed his eyes. The changing room was warm, so even though he was glistening with water from the shower he was comfortable enough just to relax for a bit.
Jonny's mind wandered back to the Six Nations earlier in the year, when he'd had an amazing tournament and emerged as the top point scorer. Since then he'd had to endure a bit of a media circus, finding himself the subject of a lot of attention from admirers of all kinds and all sexes. He smiled as he remembered some of the notes and letters he'd received, asking him to do everything from having babies with women to offering up his arse to a whole host of men. He had, of course, passed on all the offers, focusing on the rugby.
He was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of a crash from the corridor leading into the changing room, followed by a lot of swearing. He hauled his aching muscles off the bench and padded down to investigate, and upon turning the corner saw a man wrestling with a massage table that had clearly fallen open while being carried.
"Ah for shite's sake" he heard growled in an Irish accent.
"Er, do you need some help?" Jonny called down the corridor.
The man bolted upright and whirled round to face the rugby player, causing the table to crash open again. Even before he'd answered Jonny was making his way down the corridor to assist, leaving damp footprints on the painted concrete floor as he went. As he walked down, he took in the features of the guy who was going to be massaging him. Tall, probably six-two, perhaps late twenties or early thirties, jet black hair cut short and lightly gelled up into a modern style, bright blue eyes, strong jawline with a 5 o'clock shadow, skin darker than Jonny was used to with the Irish, a broad chest, what looked like some incredible pecs under the tight blue polo shirt he was wearing, and impressive biceps. Jonny found himself suddenly a little intimidated by the size and appearance of this man, and looked down at the table as he approached.
"Ach sorry" said the man, shaking his head. "This fecking thing always does this."
Jonny looked back up and smiled at the therapist as he reached him, and then made his way round to the other side of the table to help the man close it and re-attach the warped clasp at the top. Jonny then crouched down to do the one at the bottom, but as he stood back up straight his towel loosened and fell to the floor, leaving him standing naked and wet in the middle of the corridor.
"Shit" he muttered, twirling round so his testicles were out of sight and then bending over to pick up the dropped towel. He stood back up and swung the towel round him, pulling it a lot tighter than before and tucking it in. When he turned back round, he briefly caught the gaze of the therapist on where his arse had been, before the man looked back up at the blushing rugby player.
"Ach sure this corridor must be jinxed for dropping things on the floor" said the therapist, smiling at Jonny with a slightly raised eyebrow.
"Er, yeah" said Jonny, rather flustered by having exposed himself to this stranger outside the normal environs of the changing room.
"So, can ya give me a hand with this fecker?" asked the therapist. "Just in case it bloody breaks again."
"Er, sure" said Jonny, turning to pick up one of the handles at the back end of the table. He lifted it and turned back to the man, who was still grinning at him. The therapist then hoisted up the other end of the table, lifted his bag from the floor and slung it on his shoulder, and then started marching forward with Jonny and the table in tow.
"The name's Sean" said the man, slightly turning his head back.
"Er, Jonny" replied the rugby player.
"Aye" said the man, "that I knew."
A short while later, Jonny was face down on the now-sheeted table, with his face in the cushioned cradle and a towel draped over his naked bottom. He listened as Sean got his things together, using his ears and the shadows on the floor to follow the man round the table.
"Will ya be wanting some of that twinkly music?" Sean asked.
"Er, no" replied Jonny, "I'm OK."
"Good" said Sean, "that crap gets on me nerves after a while."
Jonny was a bit perplexed by what was going on. Whenever he'd had a massage before it had all been a calming, relaxing vibe, with the therapist speaking in soft tones. This guy here today seemed more like he'd stepped straight off a construction site.
"Right" said Sean, "all ready. So what do ye need doing?"
"Er" coughed Jonny, "I guess everything, but particularly my back, my legs and, er, my glutes."
"Well OK" said Sean. With that, he poured some comfortingly warm almond oil on to Jonny's warm, put some more on to his hands, placed them on the rugby player's back, and started to gently rub.
Jonny instantly relaxed with the contact, pleased to feel that Sean's big, strong hands were warm and soft. The gentle spreading motion being used to distribute the oil soon turned to a comfortable pressure as the masseur began to work the knots out of his back, kneading his skin as he went. Jonny closed his eyes as he felt himself drift off into a comatose state. Sean worked him over, moving on to his shoulders, neck, head and arms, before turning attention to the rugby player's troublesome legs. The knots here were much tighter, and there was some pain as the masseur worked them out, but Jonny remained calm and relaxed, eyes closed and not uttering a sound.
Soon Sean had worked over most of Jonny's legs, and began to head back north. He pushed the towel up to gain access to Jonny's backside, starting to rub and push the glute muscles. It was at that this point that the rugby player noticed his masseur's hands were going where none had before during one of these sessions, slightly pushing into the crevice between his tight cheeks. Still, the massage felt amazing, and he could really sense that his aches and pains were dissipating with each passing minute, so he just breathed out and continue to relax.
Then Jonny emitted a moan of pleasure as one of Sean's fingers grazed his hole, sending electric tingles up and down his body. It happened again, and again, and each time he could not help himself from reacting. He felt himself getting aroused, and shifted a little to release his penis from where it was trapped under his waist as it tried to grow. Yet, as things were happening to him that had never happened before, he did not resist and kept his eyes closed, now almost out of body as Sean's expert hands continued their visitations to his rear end.
Jonny was startled out of his when he felt some oil being poured into his crevice, followed shortly afterwards by some pressure on his hole as Sean began to push a finger in. He tensed up slightly, but found he could not find whatever it was he needed from within himself to resist. He moaned loudly when the finger popped in to his hole.
"Shhhhh" whispered Sean, using his other hand to gently rub over Jonny's back. His middle finger was now embedded to the first joint in Jonny, and he gradually pushed it further in, getting more mild moans from the rugby player. He slowly withdrew the finger, and then pushed it back in again.
"Uuuurrgh" moaned Jonny, breathing out deeply.
Again and again, Sean probed in and out of Jonny's hole, and then took things up a notch by adding his index finger to the mix. The rugby player still did not protest, accepting the extra invasion with yet more gentle moans. Spurred on by the apparent receptiveness of his client, he started to push the two fingers in deeper than he'd gone yet, firmly holding his other hand on the small of Jonny's back to steady and comfort him. His fingers were soon buried up to the knuckle, and he then began to pull them in and out while also starting to stretch them apart to open up Jonny's channel.
Sean then pulled out both his fingers, and was pleased to see Jonny respond to the emptiness by slightly raising his arse up almost to beg for penetration. Sean took this as a good sign, and this time bunched his ring finger with the other two and pushed back in. Jonny groaned loudly this time, tensing as Sean pushed in as far as he could comfortably go. As before, he then proceeded to finger-fuck the rugby player's hole, stretching him open.
Jonny was completely delirious, with one part of his head screaming at him to wake the fuck up and stop this, but the rest of him lost in the amazing sensations of having his arse violated for the first time since childhood visits to the doctor. He moaned and groaned as Sean's three fingers thrust inside him, stretching him open and causing him a pain that he found unbearable and exhilarating in equal measures.
Then, once again, the fingers were suddenly removed. However, this time they did not come back, and Jonny found himself lifting his head to try to see what was happening behind him. However, as soon as his face was out of the cradle, he felt his body being pulled and turned sideways by Sean's powerful hands. Before he knew it, his legs were over the side, his feet on the floor, and his arms and head hanging off the other side of the table.
He then felt a new pressure on his rear end, different to the fingers. It pushed and pushed, and he somehow, instinctively, subconsciously, pushed back. With that, Sean's mammoth penis entered him and started its journey up into new depths inside him.
"Ohhhhhhhh" moaned Jonny in one long breath, until he felt roughness on his arsecheeks and no more pushing from behind. He was stretched, filled, in pain, but still placidly slumped over the massage table. He started to breathe in deeply, and in time the dull pain lessened. He found the muscles up inside his bottom starting to twitch, investigating this new invader, and the more he flexed and tightened the more aroused he got.
"That's right boy" said Sean.
"Unh" muttered Jonny.
"Now tell me what you want."
"Unh".
"Come on now boy" said Sean, a little louder. "Tell me what you want."
"Fuck" growled Jonny quietly.
"What?" asked Sean.
"Fuck" Jonny growled again, a little louder.
"Pardon?" said Sean.
Jonny lifted his head.
"I want you to fuck me!" he yelled, thrusting himself backwards to somehow push Sean's cock deeper in to him.
"Good." said Sean, "It's good that you now know what you are."
He took hold of Sean's hips, and then began to thrust in and out. He moved at a steady, moderate pace, aiming to gently but firmly induct his quarry in to the world of being a cumdump for other men. Jonny Wilkinson would be a good addition to his roster.
Jonny was even deeper into his delirious state, now drowning out all the protesting voices in his head by focusing on just how good this felt, and how right it had seemed to demand this fucking. His whole body was alive with Sean's rhythmic pulsing back and forth, and his hole felt so amazingly full. It was all he could do but to moan his appreciation.
Sean kept up the steady pace until he felt his excitement levels growing, at which point he began to pick up speed. Jonny responded by moaning even louder with each thrust inwards, and then out of nowhere his cock erupted on to the floor. The pulsing in his channel as he orgasmed was too much for Sean, and he rammed in harder several times before exploding inside the rugby stud, giving him the first of what he expected would be many breedings.
The masseur came down from his orgasm, and pulled his cock out of Jonny's dripping hole. He decided that he may as well get the boy up to speed on all his future duties, so he made his way round the table to the other side where Jonny's head was hanging off, eyes closed and mouth open. Sean bent his knees gently to line up his cock, and then pushed it into the open mouth. Once again, somehow, Jonny did not repel the invader, but instead opened wider to allow the cummy dick in. He instinctively began to suck, lick and service the cock that had just been up inside him, not knowing what was the taste of Sean and what was from his own backside.
Jonny slurped on Sean's dick until the masseur was satiated, at which point he pulled it out and stepped back to admire his work. Jonny Wilkinson, the toast of English rugby, was slumped over the massage table, his tongue hanging out almost as if he wanted the cock back, and cum still dripping from his arse.
"You did good boy" said Sean. "Very good."
"Thank you" Jonny whispered.
"Now get yourself off me table so I can pack up."
"Yes sir" said Jonny, not knowing where the `sir' came from in his mind.
Sean smiled, amazed at how easy this had been. As he watched the rugby player ease himself off the table, he couldn't help but feel aroused again. He busied himself with removing the sheet from the table, folding it up and then putting all his other supplies into his bag, all the while noticing that Jonny was just standing there in the middle of the room, with a lost, glazed look over his face. This was too much for Sean to bear, as his dick began to grow again. He paused a moment, and then began to take off his clothes until he was as naked as Jonny.
"Right boy, into the shower with you" he commanded. "Time for me to fuck you again."
Jonny glanced at him, then nodded before heading into the showers where he had been just an hour before. He heard Sean moving behind him, and without thinking, just headed over to the wall. He bent forward, putting one arm and his head on the tiles, and pushed his arse out backwards.
"Man alive" said Sean, "you're practically begging for it. Such a natural cumdump."
"Yes sir" Jonny whispered, feeling the first stab of humiliation at what was happening to him. What had gone before had been practically coercion, but now he was making it clear to the masseur what he wanted when he barely even understood it himself.
Sean wasted no time, stepping up behind Jonny and pushing himself in, using the remnants of the massage oil and cum left in there from last time as lube. Once buried, he immediately began a much more powerful fuck, gripping Jonny's hips and slamming the player's body back into his own as he fucked. Jonny grunted as Sean's dick sawed through his guts, feeling more pain than last time but somehow enjoying it all the same.
For Sean, this was a fuck-and-dump, and as he pounded into Jonny and thought of all the things the boy would probably now do at his command, he felt his second orgasm building. He sped up to a furious pace, and then rammed in one last time as he erupted and filled Jonny with his second load of the day. Once he had finished spurting, he pulled out and stepped back, waiting to see what would happen. With delight, he watched as Jonny straightened up, turned around and then went down on to his knees immediately to clean off Sean's dick. He sucked and licked until the last of the cum was gone, and then dropped back to sit on his thighs. Sean patted him on the head, and gently pushed to encourage Jonny to look up at him.
"You're a cumdump now, do you understand?"
"Yes sir" said Jonny, his eyes like those of a dog gazing up at its master.
"You're my cumpdump now."
"Yes sir."
"Good" said Sean, "you should know your place."
"Yes sir" replied Jonny, finally being overtaken with the humiliation and despair he had been keeping suppressed through the whole ordeal.
Sean turned on a shower and got under the spray.
"Come and wash me boy" he commanded.
Jonny looked up and paused, then got to his feet and made his way over. He used the dispenser on the wall to fill his hands with shower gel, and then began to gently rub it in to Sean's body. As he washed, he started to realise he liked how it felt to be moving his hands over the tight muscles of another man like this, and started to really take care and attention over what he was doing. He washed Sean's arms, torso and back, then worked his way down to do his legs. He then moved up, and gently caressed around his bottom and between the legs. He then set to work gently and carefully washing Sean's generous penis and low-hanging balls, resisting the urge to lean forward and take them into his mouth. What was happening to him?
He finally got back on his feet and encouraged Sean to turn round so that he could wash his hair, and then when done he gently massaged the flowing water across the masseur's head to clean off the foam. Sean then turned off the taps, and turned around and looked into Jonny's face, pleased that the rugby player reached up to swab away any water that was going to go into his eyes.
"Good boy" he said. "Now kiss me."
Jonny stood and stared into the man's handsome face. He knew then that this was something he wanted to do, not just now but again in future. A wave of euphoria swept over him, and he found himself smiling for the first time since this had all begun. He leaned forward and craned his head upwards, with the taller man leaning down slightly so their lips could meet. It was a hesitant kiss at first, but then Jonny relaxed and allowed himself to let go, doing with Sean what he had only done with women so far. He probed the man's mouth with his tongue, allowed Sean to do the same to him, loving the feeling of the masseur's unshaved face rubbing on his own smooth skin.
Sean then pulled back, and looked at his new boy. Jonny no longer looked pained or glazed over, but was instead staring back at him with something verging on adoration.
"Thank you boy" said Sean, a little less sternly than his previous utterances. "You know how to please me."
"Yes sir" replied Jonny, smiling.
They gazed at one another for a few moments more, and then Sean moved away towards the changing rooms.
"Get yourself clean boy" he commanded, "and then go on home. I'll let you know when I need you next."
With that, Sean was gone. Jonny stood for a while longer, his gaze lingering on the doorway Sean had just gone through. Eventually he moved under the shower, turned on the tap and let the hot water fall on him. He stood for some time under the hot spray, his mind starting to try to make sense of what had just happened to him, before he snapped out of it and set to washing himself clean. In time his fingers found their way to his well-fucked hole, and he touched and prodded around his back end feeling himself stretched in a way he never had been before. He was sore, but somehow he felt right. He applied some gel to his fingers and probed up inside himself, keen to clean the rest of the two loads of cum Sean had dumped in there, and then he finished up rigorously washing his hair and face.
Stepping from the shower and finding his slightly damp towel on the bench, he got himself dried off as best he could before putting on his underwear, T-shirt, trousers, socks and trainers. He stuffed the rest of his things into his sports bag, and then made his way over to the sinks to use the mirror to sort his hair. There, for the first time, he looked at the reflection of a man who had changed. He dropped his bag to the floor and then just stood, staring at the mirror and the image of himself, almost not knowing the man who stared back at him.
"I'm a cumdump" he whispered. "I'm a cumpdump!" he then said a lot louder. He smiled as his voice echoed around the changing room, before reaching down, grabbing his bag, doing one last check of his hair and then setting off home.
TO BE CONTINUED
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