Date: Wed, 8 Feb 2006 13:58:58 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Muscle Jocks For Domination 13

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 os
age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed
to tread this story by law. This is fiction. Do not
forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety
matters'; got condom?

"Muscle Jocks For Domination" 13
wriTten by T. Chase McPhee

%

"Feels good, Steve... real good."

With his back to Matt, Steve turns over.

"How did you get up here, you little ragamuffin!"

Laughing his ass off, Steve watches as Rajjie is
licking Matt's tricept, little snakey tongue almost
touching his tuft of pit hair.

"Oooooh no!" Matt suddenly startles out of a sound
sleep, rolling over onto his blades.

"Woof!" Raggie replies.

"Ooooh, you scared him!" Steve scolds.

"Yeah sure. Some rude awakening," Matt complains.

Grabbing up the pup in one hand, Steve too falls
victim to lying on his back, seeting Rajjie on the
taut plateau above his bellyhole.

"Ugh."

"What?"

"How do you know how clean he is Steve?"

Reaching down to Matt's cum-stained abs, he replies,
"No dirtier than where you shot your hot load last
night, my love!"

Forgetting the cleanliness aspect, Matt stretches out
every fiber of muscle, hands going behind his head, a
satisfied grin abounding his facial features.

"Yeah," he sighs. "Yep, that sure was great."

"I agree. Care to go a second round tonight?"

"Nice invitation, Steve."

"And tomorrow night, the next night, the next, next
and next?"

"Whoaaaa. Slow down Steve. I can't count that high."

"Hee hee... that's okay. In the mail room you don't
have to count at all."

Poking the pillow with his left elbow, his right hand
reaches out to Steve'e tummy, zeroing in on petting
Rajjie.

"Would that give me gym privileges?"

"Along with shower, lockerrom, etc.," Steve winks,
"etc.," another wink followed by a flutter of
eyebrows, "plus lunch together?"

"I'll cant he lunches till I can accumlate some
wealth."

"No problem there. I'll order salad-for-two and we
split."

>From softly petting Rajjie, Matt's hand falls victim
to feeling up the rigidity of his cum-crusted belly
hair.

"Wow! Must've been some load I shot last night!"

Falling once again backwards, into the man-scented
sheets, Matt crunches to look at his stomach, peeling
away that the hardened manjuice.

"No wonder, the hot fuck I got from your ass chute."

"I know. How long do you think you massaged my
prostrate, Steve?"

Blowing out his breath, he replied, "Geez! Had to be
at least a coupla hous. Hell, we both sweated like a
coupla sweathogs."

"I know. Hot... real hot!"

Turning his fact to the sheets, Matt takes a whiff.

"And what does Mr. Clean have to report?"

"That after my first class, I'm coming back home to do
laundry."

"Home?"

"Did I say that?"

Rajjie slipped off Steve's bod, as he turned to kiss
Matt.

"Oops! Dog overboard!" Steve called out.

Realizing the time, the two hustled to get ready for
work and college. Both reported to the jon for cum
cleanup.

"Um, you didn't fill the tub with clothes yet, did
you?"

"Nah. There's really not that much. Steve?"

"Yeah, Matt?"

"Are you serious about me... Living here, making it my
home? Moving in?"

"Sure. I mean, we've only known each other for a day
and a night, but I think we can grow on each other.
What do you think?"

"Oh, I've already grown on you Steve, like a grape to
a honeyvine."

Closing in on each other, the two kissed.

"You can go first," Steve obliged. "I've gotta take
Rajjie out anyway."

"Okay. But don't make it a habit, Steve. Especially on
weekends?"

"It's not like Rajjie is going to be around forever,
Matty. As soon as Raavi is all better, he's going
right home with his master."

"Tell you the truth, Steve..."

"What' that?"

"I'll miss the little guy."

"Me too."

Then, after giving Matt a pich, as if measuring his
bodyfat, Steve heads out.

"Any change?" Matt asks, reaching for the faucet.

"More sex!" Steve replies.

Quickly donning the sweats he wore last night, Steve
opens the front door.

"Brrrrrr!" he senses the cold nature of the morning
atmosphere. "Cold out there, isn't it little fella?"
He asks Rajjie.

Stepping back inside, Steve grabs his overcoat from
yesterday. With one hand on the leash, the other goes
in his pocket. He finds a crumbled up piece of paper.

Mid-step into the dog walking, he stops, shuttering,
telling himself, "Oh noooo!"

As Rajjie lifts his leg, Steve unravels the tad of
paper.

"Oh shit! Mr. Verraros' phone number!"

After letting Rajjie do his thing, Steve reaches down
with the plastic bag inside out. He correlates the
picking up of the dog poop with how his boss could
react when he gets to the office.

"What's wrong, Steve?"

"Plenty."

Of course, the sight of Matt, emerging from the jon,
towel wrapped around his waist, hair sopping wet, body
hair darker in color, gracing that hot bod, sidetracks
him temporarily.

"Well?"

"I was supposed to call my boss last night."

"For what?" Matt inquires.

Reluctant to discuss the nature of the call, for fear
Matt might fun away, Steve says, "To finish up on some
unfinished office work, from yesterday."

"So, what's the big deal? Weren't you visiting a
friend in the hospital?  I'd call that an emergency,
wouldn't you Steve?"

"Yeah, I guess you could call it that, though it might
prove a weak excuse to Verraros."

Letting Rajjie off the leash, he runs over and starts
licking Matt's lightly hared leg, still wet.

"Hee hee.... you're not the only one that likes the
taste of me, Steve."

However, Steve's mind is dead-set on the thoughts that
Max Verraros might be hafing about why the no-call.
Highlights of yesterday play through his mind, the
improper stripping of his shirt, on his knees, the
muffin dropping into Verraros' briefs, the removal of
the muffin, the hard cock in it's place, Verraros'
demeanor. All of it adds up.

"Um, Steve? Yo! Earth to Steve!"

"Huh?"

"Wnat to talk about it?"

"Um," he thought for a brief second, then decided,
"Nah."

The, Matt adds, "Why is it that I'm the always in the
buff and you have your clothes on, Steve?"

"Blame it on the pup," Steve adds a slight smile.

"Taking the easy way out, Steve?"

"Huh?"

"Come on now, Steve. If we're going to shack up
together, we have to be honest with each other. Don't
you agree?"

"Um, sure," Steve wholeheartedly agrees.

To what point does telling the truth fall into saying
something that might be too kinky for the other half
to accept, without jeopardizing things, causing the
other to run long distance, in a split second?

"Steve?" Then, throwing the term around casually, Matt
adds, "I don't care what kinky stuff you do."

"How did you know?"

"Know what, Steve?"

It then dawns on Matt the converstaion could have been
flavored with.

"Okay, Steve. I'm not letting you out of my sight till
you spill it.. and hurry. I've got a class soon."

During his shower, Steve found himself whistling.
Somehow, spilling his guts to Matt healed the latter
thoughts of how things would go when he got to work.
Instead of freaking out, Matt bolstered his thoughts,
giving Steve regimens of concrete reasoning of why he
had not contacted his boss last night. While drying
himself off, he toweled a circle in the middle of the
three-part mirror, about the vanity. So high was he
that he decided not to shave, turning his into three
day old stubble.

"Breakfast is ready when you are, Steve."

"Hmm, so you found some clean clothes, huh?"

"Yeah. I think we are the same height. A little baggy
though, on account of your bulky musculature, Steve?"

"Get over it, Mary!"

"Hey, wait till I start hitting the gym, Steve. Pass
you up in no time."

As the talked, Matt closed in on the buff, slightly
wet bod.

"Feels funny."

"What does Matty?"

"You, Steve, in the buff. This time I'm the clothed
one."

"You mean 'my' clothes?"

"Hey. Don't get so possessive, Steve. I mean who else
are you going to get to clean up this rat trap for
nothing?"

"Rat trap?"

Matt laughed, as he headed out the door, Steve
following, towel around the waist.

"Yeah. Breakfast was a snap. Getting ready to cook it
was the real challenge. Steve, didn't your mother
teach you anything about being organized in the
kitchen?"

"Nope. Didn't have one to teach me."

Matt stodd there, feeling like a real sap. Steve'e
pouty lips told the whole truth.

"Hey... sorry 'bout that, Steve," Matt's welcoming
arms folded around the moist bod.

"It's okay," Steve chided. "You didn't know."

"I don't have time to listen now, Steve, but tonight I
want to hear all about it, okay?"

"Yup," the pouty lips remained, until Matt's addition
to them, cheered Steve up.

The whole kitchen returned to the glitter of
happiness, when Steve noticed Rajjie finishing up his
kibble. The Mickey Mouse era returned.

"Heeeeeeey! You finished eating, little guy? Oh my
what a little belly you've got!"

Picking Rajjie up, Steve patted the chubby underside.

"Take him to work with you Steve and put him on the
treadmill!"

"You're right."

"I am? You're taking Rajjie to work?"

"No. I mean, what are we going to do with him while
we're away?"

"Well, I've gotta go, Steve. Have a nice day, babe."

"Yeah. Thanks Matthew!" Steve replied, accepting the
peck on the cheek, then smirking at Matt, as he
exited.

Then, quickly running after Matt, toweled at the
waist, he yelled, "Wait! Come back!"

"What? You wan want another kiss, Steve?"

"That too. Here. A key to the place, in case you come
back before I do."

"What? Cute Sam doesn't have one?"

Matt eaned a swat on the ass, for his comment.
Everywhere Steve went, little Rajjie was underfoot. As
Steve dressed, he used the pup as his fashion
consultant, addressing the question as if Emmet on
QAF.

"The black and blue tie or the blue? Blue? Okay, if
you insist," Steve took the advice of the fashion
canine, on the choice of ties.

Looking in the mirror, Steve rubbed over his three day
old stubble. As if talking to his boss, he stenly
spoke, "Fuck you if you don't like it, pencilneck!"
Then, looking down to the floor, he picked up Rajjie,
saying in the opposite manner, "Ooooh, sorry about
that little fellar!"

As he brushed his teeth, the reflection in the mirror
showed Rajjie, toying with a white sock, jumping up to
claim it from the hamper. With his toothbrush in his
mouth, Steve bent over to help the pup grab at it.
While plaing with the sock, Rajjie tried jumping for
the turquioise handled brush. Reaching into the vanity
draw, Steve produced a brand new, orange colored
toothbrush. Undressing the wrapping, he made it
Rajjie's toy, along with the white sock. Leaving a
little dish of water, some newspaper on the kitchen
floor, hoping the little guy was paper trained, the
sock and toothbrush Steve pivoted a heavy armchair p
against the kitchen door.

"Hope you don't know how to pull it open," Steve said
out loud. Then, more jokingly, added, "Geesh! I hope I
didn't give the little fellar any ideas!"

Steve grabbed his laptop and headed out to his car.
Parking space number 37 was empty.

"Oh shit!" Steve cursed, remembering his car was left
at Raavi's mansion.

"What the matter, Steve? Hey! Where's your car?"

"Fogot."

"At the shop?"

"No. Left it at a friend's place last night."

Sam had his suspicions, but never rightly felt
inclined to voice them.

"Well look, Steve. Jason is on booth duty and my shift
is over. I wouldn't mind dropping you at work, or if
you want to up your car now?"

Steve thought about it. To get to Raavi's mansion and
then back downtown, would prove a mighty hassle,
arriving to work on time, as well.

"You wouldn't mind driving downtown, would you, Sam?"

"No problem here, Steve. It's on the way to my second
job."

The other thing Steve thought about, which carried
over, upon entering Sam's 4x4, was Sam!

"So, you're pulling two shifts, Sam?"

"Yeah. Can't make ends meet on the measley salary I
pull here at the condo. Not that I make a mint at the
other place."

"Downtown, is it?"

"Town hall. Court security. Mainly, I man the metal
detectors."

"Very important job, no?"

"Oh, you bet. You'd be surprised at what people are
packing these days."

Steve wondered what Sam was packing!

"Fun part is that everybody gets treated fairly."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. It's a panic humiliating the hell out of some
of these bigwig lawyers. Hee hee... take for instance,
Carter MacAvin. Know him?"

"I know the name. Very prestigious, isn't he?"

"Hee heee... yeah. Made him take his dentures out one
day."

"Noooo!" Steve said, astonished. "Are they obligated?"

Watching Sam tell the story, Steve never would have
guessed that this over six foot, mild mannered
security officer could make a distinguished attorney,
the pompous epitome of justice, submit to such
humility. In a way, it made his own experience seesaw,
between the dominant and submissive aspects.

"His face turned red, but even when my boss came out,
he wouldn't let the 'fuck' get away with his sweet
talkin'. Hell, my boss commented later how I had guts
to take on MacAvin, congratulating me on standing up
to him."

"Made you feel good, did it, Sam?"

"Yeah. Have you ever seen him in person, Steve?"

"Nope. Heard a lot about him."

"Oh, then you don't know how intimidating he can be.
He stands about 6'3, weighs in the neighborhood of
210, husky build. I guess you can say that I could get
my rocks off telling this fucker off," Sam ended with
a gleeful snicker.

Steve's rocks started to feel a bit like the ocean
lapping at them, churning up the sea within.

"Does he workout?"

"Workout? You kidding, Steve? He's probably never seen
the inside of a gym, like you and I have."

"You workout, Sam?"

"When I can. I mean, I can't afford any fancy gym, so
have my own setup in my bedroom at home. Hey, how
about spotting for me sometime, Steve? Toughest thing
to accomplish, when there's never another guy around."

Steve began adding it up, his mental ideas crossing
with what he and Matt talked about. A bedroom gym and
the word 'male' definitely could be related to his
stirring up of emotions.

"No problem. Come up to the gym sometime."

Steve suddenly realized that he blew it, realizing
he'd be missing out on Sam's bedroom gym.

"At Advantage, you mean, Steve?"

"Sure."

"Awesome! Can I really get to use their equipment?"

"Of course."

Like with Matt, but in silence, Steve added the
lockerroom and shower!

"I'm only a couple of miles from Advantage. Maybe I
could jog over on my lunch hour?"

"Sure What time is lunch for you, Sam?"

"Around eleven."

'Hmm,' Steve pondered. 'Might have to make an addendum
to my own lunch hour.'

"Alright if I let you out here, Steve?"

"Front door? Who could ask for anything more. Thanks
for the ride, Sam."

"My pleasure. Could do the same on the trip, if you
want?"

"Sure. We'll talk about it later."

"Cool! This mean I'll be seeing you when I come to use
the gym?"

"Possibly, Sam. Mention to the security guard at the
door that you want to see me."

"Cool! Sure will Steve. Have good day."

It didn't tkae much convincing for Steve to see to it
he would make all the necessary arrangements fo plan
his day accordingly.

"What happened to you last night, Steve?"

"Happen? What do you know about last night, Rick?"

"I suppose it's no secret to you that Verraros and I
have made a connection."

"Um, yeah. I suppose so."

"Weren't you supposed to call Verraros?"

"Yeah, but I had to visit a friend in the hospital.
You hear about the holdup at the gas station yesterday
afternoon, Rick?"

"Some kid took a gunshot to the arm?"

"Shoulder and yeah, that's it. I went to see that
kid."

"No shit, really?"

"Yup."

"Friend of your's is he?"

"Yeah," though Steve didn't let on how long.

"Well, to prep you, the boss doesn't seem to be too
bent out of shape."

"That's a first. So what happened last night?"

As 26yo Rick Rhodes spilled the details, Steve glanced
up and down Rick. As the walked, Rick took the same
stance, hands in his pockets, as if both held onto
something, his suit jacket behind him, the white shirt
glued to his buff bod, showing off his taut abs and
pecs so boldly, that they silhouetted the two perky
nips on the edges of his chiseled chest. Seeing Rick
in the lockerroom or shower, steve has his features
down to almost every hair on his muscled bod.

"Because you didn't show, I had to play his
muscle-slave, solo."

"Muscle... um, slave?"

"I guess Verraros was saving the explanation till you
got there, Steve."

"Apparently. If I'd known you would be there, I might
have more of an effort. So, what happened?"

"The usual."

"He work over your abs?"

"Yeah. Got a real hot workover, but before that, pulls
out this flogger. Hell, my abs and pecs are all red
this morning from him using my bod for a whipping
post!"

"Tsk-tsk, poor Ricky! How many times did you jerk
off?"

"Steve, that's not the point."

"I know. I suppose you and 'Evil Max' wanted to use me
for your muscle boytoy, eh? That it?" Steve poked Rick
in the side.

"Hey, it's not like I didn't enjoy myself anyway, but
yeah. It would have been fun, Steve."

Entering their shared office, Steve begins to set up
his laptop, as Rick parks his ass on his desk, facing
Steve's quad.

"So, how did it go?"

"Real nice. Matter of fact, Steve, I'm glad you didn't
show. Sometimes I get jealous when Max has other
boytoys there to play with."

"Oh, so this has been a regular thing, has it?"

Smiling, Rick straightened up his concave body, to
report, "Almost since I began my employment here."

"So, you've been meeting with Verraros more than once,
is it?"

"More than twice."

"More than twice, is it?" Steve questions.

"More than ten times," Rick tells him.

With raised brows, Steve replies, "My, aren't we the
kinky muscle slave?"

"Like you weren't getting off, being forced to suck
his cock yesterday, steve?"

"And how would you know classified information like
that, being the two of us had been locked up in the
boardroom, Rick?"

"There's not much that Max Verraros and I don't
share."

"Hmm... I wondered how you got that promotion so fast,
Ricky!"

%

Continued.....

Copyright 2006  T. Chase McPhee
This story may not be sold or made part of any
collection without prior written permission.

The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness!
TCMcP