Date: Sat, 25 Feb 2006 05:03:08 -0800 (PST)
From: T. Chase McPhee <survivalgame@yahoo.com>
Subject: Muscle Jocks For Domintation 19

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

%


"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.

%

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.

%

"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.

%

Continued......

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