Date: Sun, 5 Aug 2007 14:03:26 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Smith <enslaved2str8@yahoo.com>
Subject: Bred by Matt--Chapter 5

Steve's shouted words broke through the queer's fucked-up head and the
queer realized the teenage bodybuilder was ordering him over to his
sleeping bag.  The faggot's sweaty, fully clothed body responded
automatically to the instruction, even as his head seemed stuck in neutral.
As the queer crawled on his hands and knees toward the rank-smelling
dominant older boy, his mind was telling him to get the fuck out of the
tent.  His body, though, just took another hit of the older boy's
incredible smell.  The resulting high seemed to disable his protesting
head.

The queer paused when he reached Steve's sleeping bag.  His inhibitions
suspended by the older boy's incredible funk, the queer allowed his eyes to
range over the bodybuilder's body without embarrassment.  The sight only
added to the faggot's sex high.  Steve's chest was awesome: broad, muscular
and hairless.  His arms were just as wonderful: wide and strong.  The queer
could smell the power and strength radiating from the older boy's muscular
body.  As he stared in admiration, the queer's brain registered how
pathetic his own little body was in comparison to this strong, muscled
16-year-old boy.  This is what a real boy is supposed to look like, he
thought to himself.  His gaze fixed on the crotch of Steve's white boxers.
His sex-stoned head felt pulled toward the natural source of Steve's
masculinity and power: his cock and balls.

Steve just laid back on his sleeping bag, eyeing with satisfaction the
queer who obviously couldn't take his eyes off his beautiful body.  The
older teenager spent many, many hours in the gym building his young body.
He was a narcissistic boy who liked being admired.  Steve knew his muscles
helped him score with girls, who seemed drawn to the strength and power of
his body.  A special compartment in his head, though, also enjoyed the
looks he got from other boys.  When he began in junior high school to get
serious about body-building, Steve started noticing two kinds of admiration
from other boys: Some boys would openly admire his powerful body and
comment directly to Steve on how they wished they could be as big as him
because they knew it would help them score with girls.  The other type of
boy was initially a mystery to Steve.  These boys tried to get their
admiration in surreptitiously.  When he would be lifting weights, Steve
could feel the eyes of one of these boys on him.  Every time he would look
over, though, the other boy would look away quickly, pretending like he
hadn't been staring at the sweaty, powerfully built teenager.  Those boys
were typically timid and unathletic.  Steve initially assumed they so
covert because they were embarrassed at being so physically inferior to
him.  The teen bodybuilder's understanding of this kind of boy was however
transformed one day after a particularly long workout in the junior high
school gym.

Steve had stayed late after school lifting free weights in preparation for
a teen bodybuilding competition in a few weeks.  Whenever he worked out,
Steve wore only a brief pair of nylon athletic shorts, exposing almost all
of his awesome body to the admiring stares of others.  The powerfully built
teenager could stop a conversation mid-stream just by walking by a group of
guys or girls.  Something about the big build on such a young teenager
commanded the attention of all kinds of people.  Although others could not
always articulate -- or even admit to themselves -- the pull the
beautifully built boy had on them, Steve instinctively felt and craved the
admiring attention of others.  Without it, he knew he would never be
willing to spend the long hours necessary to build up his young body.

When he finally finished his workout after two-and-a-half hours, Steve
entered the school lockerroom to find it quiet and apparently empty.  As he
usually did after a long, hard workout, Steve stopped at one of the
full-length mirrors in the lockerroom to openly admire himself.  Staring at
the muscular, sweaty young body appearing in the mirror, Steve at first
admired the broad, powerful, hairless chest of the teenager displayed
before him.  He then began to flex his large biceps before the mirror.  He
flexed the rockhard bicep of each arm and then reached over with his other
hand to feel the power contained in it.  Fuck, yeah, touching his own
powerful body like this made the narcissistic boy rockhard in his nylon
shorts!  I'm a fucking awesome stud, Steve would think to himself as he
flexed and touched himself admiringly.  Sure, his cock may not be
especially big -- about six inches long when hard and of medium girth --
but his big, powerful body seemed to make up for any insecurity he felt
about that.

As Steve continued to flex and admire himself from chest to legs, he
suddenly heard something drop.  Looking in the mirror, he noticed someone
in the towel cage behind him.  The older boy was a little startled, but was
not in the least embarrassed that someone may have witnessed him flexing
his beautiful body.  After all, at bodybuilding competitions he had spend
many hours standing before men and women, and boys and girls, as they gazed
admiringly at his powerful young body.  Nothing fucking wrong with that!
Steve knew.

Turning around, he saw a boy standing frozen, imprisoned in the metal cage
that held the clean towels and athletic equipment.  Steve recognized the
boy as the kid who handed out towels to the older boys after they showered.
He also knew this was one of those kids that liked to sneak a peak at his
body; one of those timid boys that Steve always assumed was simply
embarrassed at being so much weaker than a powerfully built boy like Steve.
Only this time, when Steve turned toward him, the kid didn't look away.
The boy just kept staring at Steve's muscular, almost naked, body,
seemingly transfixed by the sight before him.

Steve didn't say anything right away.  As much as he liked looking at
himself in the mirror, being admired by someone else was a much bigger
turn-on for him.  The young kid looked stricken as he gazed at Steve's
powerful young body.  It was as if the kid knew that he shouldn't be
staring, but couldn't help himself.

After a long minute, Steve spoke to the kid.  "Hey, man.  I didn't know
anybody was still here."

Steve's voice seemed to startle the boy, forcing his admiring eyes to jump
up from Steve's chest and arms to look directly into Steve's eye.  Fuck,
Steve thought, the kid looked like a deer caught in the headlights of car:
transfixed, fearful or uncomprehending -- or some combination thereof.

Steve knew he liked the kid's intensely admiring gaze and didn't want to
scare the motherfucker away.  He tried to think if he knew this boy's name.
He saw the kid just about everyday in the lockerroom, but had never stopped
to talk to him, except to mutter an occasional "thanks" when the kid handed
him a large white towel through the metal cage after Steve had hit the
showers and scrubbed down his powerful young body.

"You still cleaning up, man?"

No response.

Steve continued.  "I was just finishing up my workout.  Hey, what's your
name, again, man?" Steve asked, as if he had bothered to learn it before
but it had slipped his mind.

The young boy seemed to struggle to get his mouth open.  When his mouth
finally opened, he uttered something totally inaudible.

Steve was getting a little pissed off that the kid was not responsive.  He
briefly considered just ignoring the kid or maybe stepping into the cage
and shoving him down onto the hard cement floor just for the fun of
demonstrating how much more of a man he was than this pathetic kid who
couldn't even get his own name out of his mouth.

In the next moment, however, the muscular teenager had the thought to
suppress his anger in favor of a different plan.  This kid was obviously
very into Steve's powerful body, but seemed too shy to act on it.  Steve
thought maybe he could change that -- making it good for both of them.

"What's that, man?  What's your name?"

"Uh . . . I . . . Billy."

Billy.  OK, freakboy, that's progress, Steve thought to himself
dismissively.

"Hey, that's great, Billy," Steve said enthusiastically, as if the kid
deserved praise simply for being able to say his own name.

"I'm competing in the regional championships in three weeks and trying to
add some extra bulk by then.  What do you think, man?  Do you like my
build?"

When Steve started flexing for the towel boy's benefit, a weird transfixed
look came over the kid's face like he was witnessing the appearance all at
once of Santa Claus, the Easter bunny and groundhog Punxsutawney Phil!

Shit, yeah, Steve thought as he flexed and carefully watched the expression
on the kid's face.  Steve LOVED the adoring look of other people -- and
this kid was obviously and totally taken up by the teenager's powerful,
rockhard body.  The young boy seemed totally absorbed by the sight before
him, trying to draw in through his wide-open eyes as much of the older
teen's powerful body as he could.

For several minutes, no words passed between them as the two boys were as
if one: Steve, the perfect specimen of young teenage manhood, and the towel
boy, an unassuming, timid kid deeply craving the awesome sight of the
muscular older boy openly on display before him.  Steve's powerful muscles
felt even stronger to him as he flexed and put on a private bodybuilding
demonstration for the kid who still stood perfectly still in the towel
cage.

"Come on out of there, man."

It took the young boy a second to tear his eyes off Steve's muscular chest
and arms and look him in the eyes.  Steve could see fear quickly appear in
the boy's face and he knew the kid was intensely embarrassed in that moment
of intimate contact.

"Hey, man.  It's cool.  Why don't you come over here and get a better
look."

The kid was frozen in place, again looking like a deer caught in
headlights.

"C'mon, man.  Get the hell out here."

No response.  Steve's anger again started to flair.  This time, though, he
didn't suppress it.  He wanted this kid to openly admire his superior
physique and personality and didn't want to have to work so hard to get a
response.  This slender idiot was lucky to be able to eyeball a real boy
and needed to get with the fucking program!

"Goddamnit, asshole!  Get the fuck over here."

Shit, Steve thought to himself as he saw the poor shithead in the towel
cage start to visibly shake.

"Oh, hey, Billy.  Sorry about that.  I didn't mean to yell at you, man.
It's OK.  Look, I'm gonna strip down and take a shower.  If you want to
take off, that's totally cool.  But if you do want to check me out some
more, be standing right here next to my locker waiting for me with a towel
when I get done with my shower.  OK?"

No response.  Fuck, this kid was a fucking moron -- or probably just
fucking scared out of his mind.  An angry scowl came across Steve's face
before he dropped his nylon athletics shorts to the lockerroom floor and
headed to the showers.  Yeah, as he walked he could feel the kid's hungry
eyes tracking every movement of his powerful body.

Steve took a leisurely hot shower, slowly soaping and rinsing each part of
his strong young body.  Yeah, he loved feeling the results of his long,
hard hours lifting weights.  Steve had a fuckingly powerful physique for a
young teenage boy and it made him feel strong and confident to feel his
muscles.  As often happened when he was feeling his own body, the
teenager's soft cock began to harden.  After just a minute, the teenager's
manhood was totally erect and jutted out rigidly between his powerfully
built thighs.  Fuck, everything about my body is rockhard! Steve thought
with a satisfied smile.  His soapy right hand reached down and grasped his
rigid tool.  Steve debated whether to jerk off right there in the shower.
He figured the terrified towel boy probably got the hell out of there as
soon as Steve disappeared into the shower.  Steve decided to whack off a
quick load.  As his right hand quickly stroked his soap-slick hard young
cock, his left hand gently rubbed his powerful pecs.  Shit, yeah, it felt
great to feel up his own powerful chest as he stroked himself.  In a few
minutes, Steve felt the cum start to rise in his balls.  A moment later, he
moaned quietly as he pumped a huge load of hot teenage spooge down the
shower drain.

Nothing felt better to Steve than a hard workout followed by a hot shower.
Well, almost nothing.  After a workout and shower, Steve loved to get on
top of a girl and fuck her lights out.  Hearing a girl moan in pleasure and
pain as he used his powerful body to fuck her into submission made Steve
feel great!  Unfortunately, his last girlfriend refused to do more than
just give him handjobs, so Steve unceremoniously dumped her.  It had been a
couple of weeks since Steve had been on top of a girl fucking pussy.  He
seemed always to be horny and needing to get off, especially after his
workouts.  Many girls got off on his body, however, and he knew it wouldn't
be long before he would be scoring some more eager pussy.

The hot shower and quick jerkoff made Steve feel relaxed.  As he turned off
the water, he started thinking about the party he and his buds were going
to that night.  Yeah, he figured he soon would be hooking up with some
drunk skank who would have no problem having his big, hard body on top of
her fucking her long and hard until he dumped a load of his bodybuilder
spunk into her tight, juicy cunt.

The thought of climbing on top of some girl and using his powerful body to
fuck her breathless brought a smile to Steve's face -- and renewed hardness
to his cock.  As he headed back to his locker, his cock was again rigid
between his strong thighs.

Steve had forgotten all about the towel boy until he turned the corner
after reaching the row containing his locker.  Steve stopped in his tracks
at the sight before him: the kid was standing right next to his locker with
a big fluffy clean white towel in his hands, just as Steve had told him.
Jeez, he must have been standing there for 15 minutes waiting for me, Steve
thought.  What would make a guy stand around waiting for an older boy to
finish showering just so he could hand him a clean towel?

As Steve walked closer to where the kid was standing, he got his answer.
The boy was shaking gently and looking down in shame at the cold cement
floor where Steve's athletic shorts had been carelessly discarded.  In
between the boy's slender legs Steve could see a distinctive bulge.  Fuck,
the kid's little dick was completely rigid in his jeans.  Steve thought he
detected a slight spot of wetness where the head of the boy's small hard
dick had been trapped for 15 minutes waiting for Steve to return from his
shower.

To be continued. . . .