Date: Thu, 13 Dec 2012 15:03:37 -0600
From: mt nuda <mtnuda@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Exam chapter One Fifteen

Disclaimer/Reminder: The following story is a work of gay fiction although
based on non-fictional events.  It contains sexual acts involving males in
high school as well as older males.  There are scenes of involuntary
humiliation and torment, some of them graphic.  If this subject matter is
offensive to you or if you are too young to be reading it, please exit now.
Now kid!  You have been warned.  This story is the property of the author
under U.S. copyright laws, and may not be used elsewhere without written
consent.  Otherwise enjoy it to your heart's content.  Emails expressing
interest or wishing further information can be sent to: mtnuda@hotmail.com.

	Chapter 115

	June 29 evening continued


	"Glad y'finally showed up when y'did" Bo watched Jim grab his
gymbag and head for the door.
	"Yeah, I guess..." glancing at Steve.
	"I'll call ya" Steve tossed over his shoulder, the two cops leaving
after their amazing night.
	"Call me" Bo watched the two disappear around the corner, hearing
their muffled conversation until they were out the door.  He turned to see
Stan looking even more rumpled and unshaven after all that had happened.
He wandered and lumbered around the workout area, also making like he was
gathering his stuff and throwing it into his gymbag.  A look of mingled
disgust and confusion was on his wide face seeing the messy sight he had to
smuggle into his house "I'm guessin you're in a big hurry t'be headin out
too then, huh?" Bo asked with measured caution.
	"Might as well... y'know..." shifting his weight from one foot to
the other.
	"Sure as fuck ain't the night y'were expectin I'm guessin?"
	"Fuck no kidding."
	"Y'maybe still tryin t'sort all this out huh?  Tryin t'figure how
yer gonna square all this shit with..." Bo could see the hesitation, the
confusion, the expression of that very conflicted high school bully finally
having to come face to face with his inner demons "so what were y'expectin,
like really expectin t'happen here tonight Stan?"
	"Shit..."
	"Stan!"
	"Seriously?"
	"Yeah..." Bo came over to where Stan stood kicking the floor "we're
all serious here, no kidstuff playactin anymore.  What exactly d'ya think
was goin t'go down here tonight?"
	"I thought..." afraid to make eye contact "I thought... my
reputation and all... something like showing some kid how to ..." nodding
at the exercise equipment "and..."
	"And?"
	"And when he screwed up..." Stan shook his head.  Why was he
bothering to hide it?  At this point his hidden kinky fantasies were the
least of his concerns "when he screwed up... and I was going to make sure
he'd screw up... then... y'know... he'd get his ass handed to him."
	"Rough stuff, huh?"
	"Yeah..." shrugging his thick shoulders "I useta be kinda this big
y'know... terror y'know.  A real bad ass.  The bully who – "
	"Useta?  Y'ain't no more?" Bo walked the short distance over to the
large table retrieving a manila envelope.
	"Shit after tonight like I don't know what the fuck I am..."
	"Real education huh?  Hard way to figure out what's tickin away
inside there, huh?  What really turns yer crank, what gets yer nut, huh?"
	"Damnit Bo!  I mean I can't have people I mean this is not going to
get around is it?" taking the envelope from Bo "I mean... this just can't
get around I mean those guys ain't gonna – "
	"Anymore'n you gonna go shootin yer mouth off about them buttfuckin
with each other right?"
	"No shit..." still the hesitation.  Bo held his ground as well,
	"So I'm guessin y'got a whole truckful of shit y'gotta sort out in
yer head, about what y'saw tonight" lowering his voice to belly rumble
"and... what y'did..." looking at the clock.  Ten sixteen was not that late
"or... maybe what you didn't do.  Huh?"
	"Huh?  What?"
	"That's a big mess of cash y'got there, Stan the Man" Bo held his
gaze "but y'shot yer load, guessin kid like you thinks he only got one shot
in'm, so take yer money and run home before – "
	"Whatdya mean only got – "
	"Before ya figure out maybe yer just a one-hit wonder, a punk kid –
"
	"Hey!"
	"Run home kid, I musta misjudged – "
	"I ain't no – "
	"I need real men t'run this – "
	"I'm big enough I'm man enough!"
	"Are ya?  Are ya really, Stan the Man?  Y'man enough to really..."
Bo saw Stan's face flushed with anger and... what?  Bo gambled it was more
"maybe y'are maybe y'aint but I'm thinkin... just thinkin mind you... if
y'got the balls IF y'got the balls and wantin t'be doublin that cash" his
eyes narrowed "DOUBLE it y'hearin me?  Just you'n me now Stan.  No more
bullshit interruptions, no more extra dudes gettin in the way of – "
	"The way of what?" Stan's hand was shaking more than he hoped was
noticed "look... I'm not ready for... y'know..." nodding at Bo's front
"that!"
	"Why's it dudes always take a look at me and start pissin
themselves thinkin I gonna be rearrangin their insides" that low rumbling
chuckle catching Stan off-guard "y'man enough for one last hour – "
	"Hour?" looking at the clock, knowing he could cover himself until
midnight if need be.  Not like anyone at home would care.  Maybe his
brother.  Only if he got home first, which Stan truly doubted "for what?
Hour of what?"
	"Double your money" Bo knew that much dough was all but
irresistible to a kid that age "and the hour's yours Stan the Man."
	"To do... what?" instead of answering him Bo found the camera and
got it recording yet again.
	"What y'came here for!  All of it!" Bo spun around to face Stan
"and I do mean ALL" waving his arm to encompass the room "all of it!
Anythin n'everythin yer – "
	"You really mean I..." here we go again, Stan told himself.
Another carrot dangled in front of him only to be yanked away at the last
second.  Like he could pull of even half his sicko fantasies.  And with the
biggest dude he ever laid eyes on?  Yeah right "you really telling me I
call the shots for a whole hour?"
	"Smart kid, smart and big" Bo's eyes at Stan's crotch were not even
subtle "if yer up for it..."
	"There's a scene... um... y'know... this hot impossible fantasy..."
looking at Bo "but it gets kinda... rough..."
	"Rougher the better" Bo looked around the room "now sooner we
start, sooner things get..." almost taunting him "rough."
	"Rough?  Like rough rough?"
	"Here's the rules – "
	"See?  Again with these rules, I thought I was – "
	"I got me this password" Bo rubbed his wide wet forehead "in here.
The game now is y'earn that double-money by makin me spill the password!"
	"Say wha?  Password?"
	"And I'm letting you know it's gonna take everything y'got to beat
it outa me" Bo make sure Stan saw his expression for that word "beat."
	"What?" Stan almost stopped breathing for the tongue stuffed down
his throat "y'mean... like serious?"
	"Double yer money only ONLY if yer man enough..." Bo folded his
thigh-thick arms over his chest, cocking his head and squinting at Stan,
knowing the kid was green enough to take the bait "well?"
	"Fuck... fuck fuck... okay... okay starts now – "
	"You man enough?" the look at Stan's crotch was plain as day.
	"Fuck yeah."
	"If yer man enough IF.."
	"I told ya I am!"
	"Then yer man enough to beat that password outa me" Bo jut his chin
out so far Stan had to take a step back to prevent his nose getting smashed
"y'get me to cry uncle y'get t'make me do the next sick stunt.  But..."
grabbing Stan's ear "but if y'make me do somethin without sayin uncle then
I get t'make YOU do somethin!"
	"Wait!"
	"Third uncle and ya the password, got it?"
	"Wait!  That's not what – "
	"Starting NOW!"
	"Okay, okay" Stan put his foot in the bear- trap, hoping he was
finally playing in the big leagues now, damn the consequences "okay okay
we'll see who wusses out first.  But first thing is you taking a shower,
you stink!" Stan growled "and that's not one of the – "
	"Maybe I ain't all eager to drop trou" nodding at the camcorder
"with that on!"
	"Do it!" Stan grabbed the weight belt off the floor and before Bo
could dodge the blow gave him a hard wallop across his thigh "move or y'get
twenty of these!" whacking the belt against his hand.
	"Twenty ain't shit!" Bo folded his arms, the giant weightlifter
defiant enough to make Stan reconsider his position.  Before he lost his
nerve he grabbed Bo by the huge arm and twisted him downwards, a bit
surprised the big guy toppled so easily.  When Bo felt the full force of
that first blow across his hip he gave out a bellow "not so hard!" and the
second was even harder "damn!" and down came the third across his wide ass
with better aim.  When Stan yanked the back of those sweat-stained pants
down past those hard purple glutes and gave the belt his full strength, Bo
toppled and struggled to one foot "damn boy!"
	"On your knees!  Now!" like Bo would give in so easily "you gonna
strip down or I gotta – " and again the strap came down with all his
might.
	"Okay okay" and Stan got in yet another hard crack with the belt
before Bo pulled away, his butt beginning to show the nasty marks from the
vicious hits.
	"Strip!"
	"Yessir!  Uncle" and Bo started pulling that smelly stained
sweatshirt up to his chest, his full round belly and muscled torso again an
eye-opener for Stan's eager gaze.  Did he really have this huge goliath
totally at his command?
	"When did I tell you y'could – "
	"Y'said I needed t'take – "
	"You don't listen do ya?" and just like Stan backhanded Bo's face!
He needed to see how Bo would react, if he was serious about this.  When Bo
did not start swinging, instead just thrust his jaw out, a huge defiant
giant, Stan started to realize the game was on.  If he had the balls to
pull it off.  This big muscle stud just might let him push him around
"what's the password?"
	"Fuck you!"
	"Night's young and I'm warming up!" Stan again brought that belt
across that broad back "on your knees!"
	"Put it away!" Bo dropped down, lowering his head.
	"Then tell me the password!" but Bo only leaned forward more "time
you learn who's boss around here!" Stan grabbed Bo's sweatshirt and gave
the top seam a hard yank.  There was a ripping sound loud enough for Bo to
jerk upwards but the old material gave way, past those wide flexing traps,
all the way down to where his spine made a dent in his muscled lower back.
When Stan saw that exposed expanse of flesh, knowing all those three
hundred some pounds of black muscled flesh were his to do with as he
pleased he brought the belt down hard across those bared huge shoulders
"what's the password?"
	"Ain't sayin!" whack!
	"Who's the boss?"
	"Y'want me t'strip or not?" whack!
	"On your hands and knees!" whack!
	"Damn!" Bo leaned forward, his ass jutting out.  The belt came down
on his thick rump still covered with those sweat pants with a loud whack!
and Bo spasmed almost toppling down.  He felt Stan's hand running all over
his hard exposed glutes, now openly fondling his butt, even sliding into
that sweaty crack slightly.  Bo closed his eyes, a deep moan rolling out of
his huge chest pressed to the floor.  He felt the hand return to his still
greasy crack with a bit more nerve and then the waistband was yanked down
in front as well.  The cool air on his crotch was followed a second later
by a violent blow from that leather belt "owwww!" he yelled, falling
forward.
	"Back on your knees!  Now!"
	"Not so hard... boss!" whack!
	"Thought you wanted it rough?  What's the password?" whack!
	"Can't tell you!" whack!
	"Either you strip naked for the camera or twenty more of these!"
whack!
	"No more!  Please boss!"
	"You learning who's is charge now?" whack!
	"You are boss!" whack!
	"You gonna take orders now?" whack!
	"If I gotta show dick, only no more beating."
	"Say uncle!"
	"Already did!"
	"Say it again!"
	"Okay Uncle!"
	"Now get that stinkin ass in the shower!  Y'didn't take your twenty
and your first first uncle!  Got it?  So move!" which is what Bo did.  The
torn sweatshirt was half off his back and his pants around his knees as he
waddled half-crawled towards the back of the room.  Over his shoulder he
was not too surprised to see Stan wheel the camera along behind them.
Again Bo was all but naked, all those huge black muscles and heavy
equipment displayed to the camera.  Stan nodded towards the shower area,
keeping several feet away, far enough to keep him and his ever present
friend dry.  With Bo standing under the spray, letting his soggy clothes
fall to the floor, he knew maybe just maybe Stan was getting his cues
straight.  He began a long obscene soaping of all those wet glistening
muscles, Stan began rubbing his crotch unconsciously before he realized
this was only the warm-up.  It began to dawn on him Bo was naked and
covered in soap suds masturbating for his benefit alone, to get him as
horny as reckless as he knew how.  Bo was pumping the blood into Stan's
dick without even touching it.
	"Clean your junk up real good" Stan pointed at Bo's heavy hanging
cock and sore balls "now!  Or that strap's gonna – "
	"Okay okay boss!" Bo applied even more soap to his front, knowing
exactly how the white suds displayed his black muscles.  He scrubbed his
front and worked back down to his thick meaty cock and low hanging turkey
eggs, pulling and yanking them, skinning his foreskin, squeezing the head
to make it swell.
	"Keep going..." Stan growled, rubbing himself watching Bo's jacking
himself harder and faster "yeah keep doing that." Surprising himself how
much fatter his own cock was getting, even though he was barely rubbing
himself and he had shot a load not a half hour ago?  And there was Bo
standing in front of him yanking himself so hard his bicep muscle was
bulging thick and fat, his hips were rocking and flexing with the motions.
	Bo pulled and yanked at his eight plus inches of thick hose,
feeling it thicken and harden.  For the third or fourth time he pulled the
skin back and started cleaning the head, making it turn purple for Stan's
approval.  He yanked and jacked for several minutes, getting it as thick as
he could but showing Stan it would only get so hard.  When it was curving
down and another two inches longer he spread his arms and gave Stan a
double biceps pose, fully aware Stan was boning like mad.  Like the horny
teenager Bo was gambling on.
	"I want you clean and dressed out front in five minutes" Stan
huffed like he had been running for hours, amazed how quickly and
thoroughly this was getting him cranked all over again "make that two!" and
he disappeared, leaving Bo alone with his one-eyed companion.  By the time
he rinsed all the sweat and soap off his acres of flesh he heard "and put
these on" turning to see a half-naked Stan spin around and disappear
through the door again.  Bo turned off the water and stepped into that
too-small jockstrap still damp from whose sweat and cum? and struggled to
pull up those tight running shorts over his damp thighs.  When he yanked
the white tank-top over his head and tugged it down his thick damp torso he
knew it was ripping in places.  Just as Stan wanted, he hoped.
	Bo made his way back to the work-out area, not knowing what he
might find.  When he saw Stan wearing street clothes Bo feared he had
changed his mind, worried he was all cold feet and not hot dick.
	"About time you showed up... Butch" Stan went over and completely
shocked Bo by shaking his hand "I'm Steve, your new... um... trainer."
	"Trainer?" Bo looked at him, before the gears clicked "uh yeah,
trainer, I been needing one" letting his eyes travel up and down Stan's
clothes, a puzzled expression enough to get Stan to explain.  His
explanation was a nod towards their silent friend humming away in front of
them.
	"Yeah, I just got here, I know I'm late so we gotta get started
right away.  No jackin around" pointing at the weight bench "let's see what
y'made of, let's see if you're as good as they say you are."
	"Yes sir!" Bo loaded the bar for bench presses before Stan
interrupted him,
	"No Butch I wanna see shoulder presses from you" loading a mere two
plates.
	"But I can do more – "
	"You do what I tell ya, got it?" Stan growled "no wonder your last
trainer quit.  He told me you ain't real good at taking orders."
	"You the boss..."
	"That's right I'm the boss." Stan shoved him onto the bench "and
we're gonna make us a little movie of you working out!"
	"No!  I hate cameras!" Bo lied "ain't right showing..."
	"Do it!" which is what Bo did.  He sat beneath the bar and started
his shoulder presses, his muscles filling out the blatantly tight tank-top.
The way his traps and delts grew almost looked fake, like he was using an
air pump to make them fill out like that "before y'cool off, biceps curls!
Use that same bar!"
	"Too much weight!" Bo protested, racking the barbell again.
	"Get behind the bench" Stan got up behind him, knowing how obscene
his crotch was boning.
	"This gettin ya... y'know?" Bo nodded at Stan's arousal "not sure
it's cool, guys getting all worked up by this..."
	"Tough!  Okay grab the bar!" forcing Bo to lift the bar off the
rack "let's see some biceps curls!"
	"Too much weight!" Bo did one curl and right on cue his cantaloupe
biceps swelled out at the same time those huge pecs filled out.
	"Just hold the bar, don't more!" Stan came behind him, pressing his
hardon into Bo's ass "yeah, just like that!"
	"Hey!" Bo tried to pull away but the weightbench was in the way
"y'gettin kinda raw back there!"
	"What?  Oh... um..." pulling his cock away from Bo's crack fast.
	"Don't be pullin that shit!  I ain't that way!"
	"Ain't..." willing his hardon to go away "what way?"
	"C'mon!  I got a wife and kids!" the slight nod towards the camera.
	"Big dude, all muscles and attitude!" Stan suspected he might have
gone too sexual too early.  A half hour ago he and that Steve guy made Bo
do all sorts of nasty shit, but now the big musclehead was getting all
touchy on him.  Was Stan calling the shots or not?  Or was Bo just mugging
for the camera?  How serious was this trainer-student game to be played now
that Stan set the stage? "y'gonna hold that bar or not?"  Stan had to take
control of the situation or his "hour" might slip through his fingers.  He
reached around and grabbed the barbell "hold it like this!" Bo's arms
locked in place, the bar held waist level "keep it there and don't move"
Stan reached behind him and grabbed the scissors "don't you dare move!"
	"What ya doin?  HEY!" Bo tried to jerk forward as first one then
both of the straps of his tank top were cut.  Stan used his free hand to
pull the stretched material down past those huge pecs, rubbing the two nubs
as he did "hey!  That's getting real personal there Sta – I mean Steve!"
	"You got all these huge fuckin muscles y'might as well show the
camera your hard work!"
	"That ain't right!  Showin flesh n'all like..."
	"Yeah show some skin while you're working out" pointing the camera
at Bo's front "big fuckin pecs almost as big as girls' tits!"
	"HEY!" Bo tried to twist and protest but Stan squeezed him further
into the bar.
	"Okay getting clearer why your other trainers think you're trouble!
This is what we're gonna do, tonight you do what I tell ya or next time
maybe I'm gonna make you do this buck-ass naked in front of all your
workout buddies!"
	"NO!"
	"Bet they'd hoot and holler seeing ya stripped and made to look
like a pussy for everyone to see.  You'd hate that right?"
	"Damn straight I would!"
	"Then we keep this between just us two got it?" this time Stan
reached over and grabbed the bottle of oil "grab those two dumbbells!
Those!" pointing at the two twenty-fives.
	"What ya planning on..." Bo expected worse.  But he dropped the
barbell and picked up the two medium weight dumbbells "these ain't shit!"
	"Okay ya got all these huge muscles, let's see them in all their
glory.  ALL their glory" Stan was all but hyperventilating, hoping he could
pull this off.  When it was the three of them before, Bo would do anything
Stan told him to.  Like he got off on public humiliation.  But with just
the two of them, Bo was another story, all reluctant and gruff stubborn
hostility "okay swing up those guns and hold them straight out to your side
– "
	"Dumbass exercise."
	"Until I count thirty!"
	"Thirty?!"
	"Now!" Bo swung them out, his shoulders and arms locked crosswise,
bulging and swelling.  When he felt a greasy hand rubbing all over his
pecs, and starting a serious rubbing and twisting on his two nipples he
swore and almost lowered the weights until Stan yelled at him to close his
eyes.  Stan massaged and oiled and rubbed again those muscles bulging with
the growing strain of keeping those dumbbells straight out "dude that's
kinda..."
	"Kinda intense ain't it?" Stan wanted nothing more than to pull out
his cock and jack off another load.  But he had this irrational doubt in
the back of his head Bo would call it quits once that happened "some dude
getting all personal with your bod like this, huh?"
	"Ain't right" Bo squeezed his eyes closed "you rubbin a guy like
that."
	Stan's fingers rubbed and pulled at Bo's nipples, feeling them
harden the rougher he yanked.  When he pinched them with his nails, Bo
gasped.
	"Now you gonna start paying attention to your trainer?" Stan ran a
greasy hand down Bo's thick belly to the waistband, knowing he was pushing
the limits.
	"Hey!  That ain't right..."
	"Okay just you and me this time, but next time a room full of guys
watching you get taken down a peg or two" seeing the corded muscles in Bo's
arms and shoulders straining and losing the battle against that bitter
enemy gravity "okay weak punk, up over your head!  Now!"
	"No way!"
	"NOW!" Stan swung his fist hard into Bo's gut.  Bo screamed and
lurched forward but when he did not go off on Stan that was the
encouragement he needed to bark at Bo again and yeah, the big goliath swung
the dumbbells upwards until his arms were raised to the ceiling "and hold'm
there count of ten, y'hear me?"
	"Yes... yes coach."
	"One" Stan started counting off, with each number he gave Bo's big
gut another hard slug, but now Bo tensed up, expecting them.  Stan was
almost surprised to feel those hard serious abs beneath all that
flesh. Bo's ripped tank top was little more than a narrow band around his
waist and at the nine-count Stan tugged it down further, past those thicks
glutes "okay straight out like before!"
	"Fuck!" Bo yelled and again brought those thick guns down and
straight to his side.  As he did Stan made a point of rubbing his greased
hands all over those bulging biceps and arms, making them shiny in dramatic
relief, the growing tension shredding his arm muscles into thick swelling
corded black pythons.  And again Stan's fist slammed into Bo's gut, but
this time Bo was braced.
	"Again!  Back up!"
	"Damn you!" Bo screamed as his sore arms raised them upwards yet
again.  Stan's fists took turns slamming hard into Bo's flexed stomach
muscles four more times.  When it looked like Bo might grunt uncle Stan
gasped,
	"Now curl them back behind your head and hold them there!"
	"Fuck!" those huge guns barely moved.
	"Now!  Do it" Bo's triceps bulged thick and menacing as he bent
those arms backwards, almost too thickly muscle-bound for that angle to be
comfortable "hold'm there!  I mean it!" and with Bo's arms pinned behind
him, Stan went to work digging his fingers into those spasming abs, making
a big display of inching both shirt and waistband of those skin-tight
stretched shorts lower down his hips, until his crack was showing in back
and his pubes and even the root of his cock were revealed in front.
	"NO!  Don't do that no more.  I can't be lettin you pulling down my
shit!"
	"Okay show me ten triceps curls, turn around as you do'm!"
	"What?  Why?"
	"Just do it!"
	"This is messed up, coach.  This work out's gettin too fucked up
for me by a long shot!" but Bo turned his back to the camcorder, curling
the dumbbells up to his head and back down until ten were done, his arms
getting even more huge.
	"Ten more!"
	"No fuckin way!"
	"I said ten!  Lean forward when you do!" Stan's hand on Bo's lower
back threatening to go lower.
	"Watch that hand!"
	"This one?" Stan's hand slid into Bo's crack downwards, pushing the
waistband past his glutes.
	"Don't you fuckin dare!"
	"Ten! Now!" slap!
	"HEY!"
	"DO IT!" as Bo struggled to do even the first curl.  After two
more, Stan's hard wallops to those shiny globes became more and more
intimate.
	"Fuck you!" and somehow Bo finished the last eight, ignoring the
alternating slaps and rubs to his ass.
	"Okay Butch, Bull, whatever your name is..." Stan adlibbed "those
were sloppy-ass bad. Drop the weights."
	"Bout time!" the dumbbells hitting the floor with loud bangs "now
what?"
	"I... um..." looking at the clock.  Half hour at most left until
that Steve guy would fly out of that office and send them both packing.
Stan's brain was spinning in so many directions it was grinding to a halt.
What was he to do?  Bo lured him into this last hour with the promise he
could call all the shots and do anything ANYTHING! he wanted.  But as soon
as Bo left the showers and came back out to the work-out area, he was all
grumbling and arguing.  Like he actually was not keen on doing this.
Especially with the camera running.  And a part of Stan was growing more
troubled he might overstep some weird unspoken boundary.  Bo would then
turn on him and Stan would be roadkill fast.  Stan looked around the room
almost seeing the four of them still naked and doing sex stuff Stan only
imagined in porno movies, so his horniness continued to grow forcing the
issue enough to tip the balance by an inch or so "I um..."
	"You what?" Bo's voice dropped to that menacing deep register
"maybe y'ain't the coach they told me y'was" and he pulled his shorts back
up to a respectable height again, daring Stan to say boo!
	"I ain't?  Y'think I'm some punk wuss?" but Bo only glared at him
"okay, fine your funeral.  I thought those curls were sloppy and your
penalty is..." Bo laughed at him "yeah, penalty!"
	"Penalty huh?"
	"Yeah penalty."
	"Why t'fuck should I do a penalty?" Bo reared up, almost filling
the room "y'hear me say uncle?" folding his thick arms and cocking his
head.
	"N-n-no but – "
	"Some coach you are!" Bo literally spat at Stan's feet.  Stan saw
the balance shifting fast and had to regain control or else.
	"Cause I ain't never said uncle, that means I decide what goes down
next!" Bo swelled up to twice his size "and next I'm sayin that g-d camera
gets turned off!"
	"I say it stays on!"
	"Don't cross me... Steve" and that was it.  Stan heard that and
knew – or rather was gambling the whole pot – that Bo was still
playing him.
	"Maybe you scared off all those other coaches but you ain't ever
messed with a bad ass like me... Butch!" Stan was sweating and shaking but
this time he knew he was not backing down "so your penalty is ten whacks of
the belt on your bare ass!  Bend over that bar!" pointing to the barbell at
the weightbench.
	"You and what army!"
	"Do it now!" Stan grabbed the twenty-pound ham of Bo's left arm and
tried to swing him around.  This was the moment when Bo would either send
Stan flying across the room or go along with the game.  Stan heard their
heartbeats beating and filling the room, watched the sweat run down Bo's
forehead for four then five then six seconds.
	"Think yer tough guy, huh?" and that's when it happened.  Bo yanked
his arm free and walked over to the barbell like it was his idea all along.
He bent over the bar and flattened his hands down on the seat below him.
	"F-f-f-fuck" Stan swore under his breath, waiting for his brain to
catch up.  Bo did it!  He was playing along!  Like you ever doubted he
would? said Stan junior in his shorts.  In a half-second flat Stan grabbed
that lifting belt with one hand and yanked down the back of Bo's shorts
with the other "one!" he screamed and swung it down hard on that dark
flesh.
	"Ungggh!" Bo bellowed but his hands did not leave the leather seat.
	"Two!"
	"Damn!" Bo screamed "go easy!"
	"Three!"
	"Bastard!"
	"Four!"
	"Fuck..." Bo twitched and straightened up "enough!"
	"Get back down!"
	"Think yer gonna gimme all ten?"
	"Hell yeah" Stan raised the belt high for the next blow.
	"You hit me with that again y'better deal with the consequences."
	"Tough!" and down came the belt before Bo could react.
	"Okay y'think yer so tough" Bo straightened up, rubbing his bare
butt.  He made a point of keeping his front away from both Stan and the
camera as he felt the reddening sore flesh below "y'man enough to beat my
ass – let's see ya do it outa those clothes!  Make me naked for the
camera – now yer turn!  Y'think y'can beat my ass I think y'can do in
wearing nothing but yer jock!  Big man!"
	"Y'want me to do what?"
	"Y'heard me!  Strip off!  Let's see how you like showing flesh for
the camera.  Either strip to yer jock or the camera gets turned off!"
	"Camera stays on!" Stan knew this was a bluff.  And a lame one at
that "I'll take my penalty" and off came his sweatshirt and shorts before
Bo started again.  When Stan stood there stripped and sweaty, Bo sneered,
	"Fuckin homo perv for a coach I got here!  Whippin a dude and
gettin bone doin it" nodding at Stan's obvious hardon "fuckin what kinda
fucked up workout is this..."
	"This kind!" and the belt came down twice as hard, hitting Bo on
his broad back "we'll see who the homo perv really is" going over and
opening one of the drawers.
	"What the fuck you – "
	"Turn around and just keep your fucking eyes on that camera!" Stan
brought something in his hand, greasing it as he came behind Bo "just keep
those hands on the bench and your eyes on that camera."
	"What y'think – damn!" Bo yelled as he felt the buttplug press
between his ass cheeks "don't you fuckin dare!" as the end found his hole
"you muthuhfucker!" Stan pressed hard and with little effort it popped in
and was lodged in that already slick butt.
	"Don't you fuckin move!" Stan swung the belt and landed it right on
Bo's ass "eight!" he lied, daring Bo to correct him.
	"Sick fuck!"
	"Nine" again the belt landed right on the end of that plug "and
ten!" the last more for show than to inflict any more pain.
	"Get that sick shit outa me!" Bo straightened up, then lowered
himself down again.
	"Okay stand up straight, hands on your head!  Do it Butch!"
	"Go to hell!" but Bo straightened up, slowly raising those beefy
arms to his head.  As he did Stan and the camera both saw the effect of the
belt and the plug on Bo's front "y'happy now, ya sick homo?"
      "At least I don't get wood getting my ass whipped" Stan lied "but
we're burning time here!  The next exercise is gonna make you wish you
never messed with me!"
	"Impress me... coach" Bo spat out the word.
	"Grab that barbell again.  You're gonna do bent row lifts for your
audience now!" nodding at Bo's protruding crotch then the camera.
	"Oh yeah?" Bo folded his arms, huge flexed cannons "how's that?"
	"We're gonna see you grab that barbell and lean forward, then raise
it up to your chest.  And lower it down past your sorry-ass knees.  Just
like rowing.  Those puny-ass lats on you need some work."
	"That's all?" Bo grabbed the barbell, testing the weight.  He knew
the weight was not the issue now.
	"And... and... one more thing" Stan knew this was it "if I'm wearin
only this jock, so are YOU... NOW!" moving the camera so it was angled at
Bo's behind "do it!"
	"No fuckin way I'm doin anythin even half way like that bare ass!"
re-racking the bar and pulling his shorts back up "you white boys all
fuckin crazy" both of them aware what was still lodged in Bo's ass
"y'already made me do more homo shit than y'gotta right to... coach..."
	Stan heard that last word and there it was.  Bo was playing Stan
for all he could.
	"Up t'you Bull.  Either y'do it this way or I get all your big
muscle buddies and they watch you do it.  Then they decide what kinda homo
shit this really is?"
	"This is totally fucked up" Bo grabbed the bar again "cept I
guessin I can't what with my hands all full here... coach."
	Bo lifted the bar to his oily stomach and narrowing his stance,
almost daring Stan to do it.  Stan was sweating and boning enough for both
of them.  Did he really honestly have the balls to take on this guy three
times his size, just the two of them alone, knowing Bo could break him in
two if this last stunt went south.  Maybe that is what Bo was doing,
backing Stan into a corner where there was no turning back, where he stuck
his neck so far in the noose Stan would be so fucked by what he did that he
could never ever go back to being the closeted high school bully, knowing
he crossed the forbidden line.  Again Stan's dick took over.
	"You are the sorry-ass worst scrawny ass wuss I ever coached!" Stan
went over and grabbed Bo's waistband.
	"You're gonna be sorry you did that!"
	"Oh yeah, how?"
	"You so hot to make me do homo shit, the only way I do it if that
stays on!"
	"Huh?" Stan gulped out the words before he realized he screwed
himself.  Bo was reminding him both their necks were in the noose now.
	"This goes down then you loose that!" Bo nodded at Stan's jock
"seein as how y'already waving that bone around.  And to show the whole
world what a complete perved out homo you are, if you can't lose your bone
when I do these the next penalty is mine.  I'm callin ya out, y'got me?"
	"Fuck..." Stan was already hard and staining his jock.  And putting
on that cock ring before was a stupid move he realized "I'm the coach and
you're – "
	"Do it or we quit here and now!"
	"You really wanna do shit with all your friends watching?"
	"Knew you'd chicken out... coach..."
	"Fuck..." Stan's hardon took over "you win" and down came his
jockstrap and when the cockring came into view as well, Bo smirked.
	"Okay guess I'm losing these" nodding down at his torn t-shirt and
shorts "coach..."
	Stan quickly tossed the jock to the side, his hefty uncut cock
pointing straight at his target.  He went over yanked at Bo's clothes
pulling them down past his thighs with a great effort and down to his
ankles.  When Bo lifted one foot, Stan crouched down and pulled it free as
Bo lifted his other foot and made Stan remove them completely.  He turned
to see Stan's thick hardon encircled by the cockring.
	"Okay coach, y'got yer dick all wrapped up like y'been wantin
t'show it off all night so I call the shots now."
	"Now wait!"
	"Ya obviously get off on dudes, coach" Bo flexed the barbell up to
his chest, standing there is his too-tight jock, his own balls spilling out
as well, his thick meat still swollen from the plug trapped inside him
"making guys do homo shit and getting crazy-red boners doin it, no don't be
denyin it!  Okay ya don't be need be hidin yer shit no more.  And your
penalty – "
	"Thought that was!"
	"Penalty is you got this huge straight bodybuilder stud all but
naked in front of you doin kinky ass homo shit, and you all boned and hot!
Camera or no camera!"
	"What?"
	"Cause that be what ya been planning, to get me all bare-ass and
jack yer meat watchin me – don't deny it!  So I do this dumb-ass rowing
shit, y'watch me you all hot pervin on my muscles, well tough
luck... coach!  Penalty is y'can't do shit about it, got it?" Bo lowered
the bar to his crotch rubbing it against the pouch watching Stan's eyes
like a hawk "yeah, just as I thought, y'can't keep yer pervy eyes off my
big stud junk" up and down the bar went "that cock of yours showin all your
story... coach.  Y'might as give up... coach, too late t'be hidin yer shit
anymore.  You been called out!" Bo boomed in a voice no one could argue
with.  He stood there as huge as a truck, sweaty black muscles as big as
anything, veins popping, ripped and corded as that bar rubbed an inch up
and down over his bulge.  He nodded again "ain't happenin til y'admit
it... coach."
	"Fuckin shit..." watching Bo's eyes, Bo's crotch, Bo's flexing
arms, Bo's bulging chest "fuck..." Stan's hands went to his wrist-thick
uncut dick all bright red and swollen almost twice its size from that metal
ring.  It pointed straight at Bo, too heavy to lift any higher.  He
scratched as his newly-shaved crotch making it bob for Bo's comment "okay
okay y'win okay?  I'm a total red-blooded dickhead!"
	"Young kid sure as fuck gotta man size dick on him..." Bo narrowed
his eyes "that's for sure.  Real shame it ain't ever felt no pussy on it –
"
	"Hey I get lots of – "
	"Yeah, and I'm the King of Broadway" Bo's eyes never leaving Stan's
crotch "just as I thought.  Coach here admits once and for all he fuckin
gets off on pervin on my muscles, can't keep that bulldick down it he had
to.  Okay I proved my point" the barbell lifted up to his chest, making his
full crotch more prominent "so now it's time for you t'do the hard penalty.
All this sweaty work-out shit ain't about working out – it's about you
shootin yer load watchin me, gettin off on pervin on me, big turn-on for a
kid like you, ain't that right?  So penalty is y'grease that fuckstick up
and NOT jack it!  Y'hear me?"
	"How the fuck I supposed – "
	"Yeah just as I thought!  Y'wanna drool over me doin these naked
posin shit and sit there jackin yer cock, kid... coach" correcting himself
"you are so called out!  Here!" producing the half-empty tube of lube "do
it!" nodding at the camera "on the record!"
	"Why?"
	"T'prove my point is all!"
	"I can't, not without – "
	"Do it!" somehow Stan's plan for a memorable evening continuing the
fun from when those other guys were around – well this was not what he
had planned.  Without thinking he slicked up his newly shaved balls and his
greased hand slid up his greatly swollen shaft when Bo barked at him to
knock it the fuck off!
	"Sorry-ass poor excuse for a coach you are!" Bo groused "still
hopin t'be jackin yer meat and expectin me t'be doin the hard stuff!"
	"Okay then pick up that damn barbell!" Stan pulled his hand away
from his throbbing bobbing bright-red cock with swift angry motion "pick it
up!  Now!"
	"Finally!  Maybe y'can be a real coach when y'ain't thinking with
yer dick!" Bo yanked the bar off the floor and began to curl it up to his
great big chest, a smug expression on his sweaty face.
	"Fuck no!  Not like that!" Stan grabbed a towel to clean all that
grease off his hands "grab it over-hand!"
	"Huh?" Bo set it back down and shifted his grip "like this coach?"
	"Yeah, now pull it straight up t'yer chest."
	"Lame shit" Bo tugged it upwards, the muscles in his back and
shoulders popping out with the strain "man..."
	"Bend forward!"
	"Huh?" Bo twisted his head sideways, hiding his smirk.
	"Fuck I gotta show ya gotta explain everything!" Stan came up
behind him until his freshly lubed groin was pressed into Bo's ass, those
huge muscled glutes outlined with that tightly stretched jockstrap "now
bend forward until your shoulders are even with your..."
	"This ain't no real exercise."
	"Do it!" Stan pressed down on those mile-wide shoulders until Bo
was all but bent in half "okay now lemme see ya pull that bar up!  Pull it
up to that gorilla chest of yours!" feeling Bo's deep groan echo through
the room "they hurt, don't they?  These're called parallel rows.  I wanna
see twenty for starters!"
	"Twenty?" Bo gasped and bent forward a bit more "you fuckin with
me?"
	"Do it!"
	"Can't bend that far!"
	"Do it!" Stan pushed him down farther until Bo's back cracked under
Stan's scalding palms.  With his hands holding him down Bo pulled the bar
up to his chest with a great big loud grunt and slammed it back to the
floor.
	"Y'doin it wrong! Maybe this'll help" Stan grabbed Bo around the
waist, and before Bo could react pulled that plug free of that bent ass.
Bo spasmed and almost lost his balance but as soon as the plug was tossed
away, Stan's hands were back on those wide hips steadying him once more.
As he did he felt his ringed cock pressing into the steamy moist crack
right there, an inch from his shaved crotch.  He thrust his waist tighter
into that warm muscled flesh "again. This time y'better keep that bar up a
full count of ten, then lower it down another count of ten!"
	"What y'doin back there!" Bo growled "don't even think about gettin
no freaky homo ideas back there!  So completely fucked up what yer tryin
back there!" but Bo lifted the bar slowly off the ground, up almost as far
as his chest and struggled to hold it while Stan counted off.  He lowered
it slowly as Stan leaned over his broad back, keeping Bo bent forward for
another count of ten, the heat radiating up from Bo's huge frame.
	"Better watch the fuck wha y'doin back there... coach..."
	"Still doin it wrong!"
	"Fuck I am!"
	"Again!" Stan kicked at Bo's left foot "wider!  Widen your stance!"
	"You crazy?"
	"Do it!" Stan kicked again until Bo's foot went sideways a good
foot.  When Stan kicked at Bo's other foot as well, Bo almost lost his
balance "again!  This time count of twenty hold, another twenty down!"
	"No way!"
	"Way!"
	Bo leaned forward, his thighs spread as wide as his muscle-bound
hips could go, his ass pressed backwards as Stan stepped between those
spread legs again pressing his crotch into Bo's ass, leaning forward over
that muscled back, pressing into that crack spread so wide his glutes were
actually rippling with the strain of keeping his balance, his hole now
stretched open and backwards into Stan's crotch.  Bo grunted and swore but
lifted the bar up to his chest, panting and moaning as Stan did the longest
slowest twenty count he could.  Stan knew this was the moment of truth.  He
had the huge powerlifter stud's cheeks spread and his ass jutting
backwards, all but waiting for the inevitable to happen.  But Stan never
fucked anybody, not a girl, not a guy, and definitely not some huge black
bodybuilder twice his size!  Up to that point he had bluffed and postured
his way through all those bully-boy situations, the distant possibility of
forcing some punk to at most get his face rubbed in Stan's crotch.  But
tonight he actually had a guy take his cock in his mouth and when he did
Stan blew like he had been saving his load for years.  Which was not far
from the truth.  But now the moment of truth was here; and was he really
big and tough enough to make a guy take his cock up the ass?  Before
tonight the concept was so foreign it was not even jack off material.  He
could barely keep up with these accelerating events, barely hanging on by
inches and now here he was, boned and all but pressing into a dude's ass!
If he tried to penetrate this huge guy and ended up misreading all these
signals, this black giant could wipe the floor with him.  Did he really
have the balls to try this?  What if he did it wrong?  What if he tried to
force his freak of a cock into that hole and this guy just went ballistic
on him?  What if?  What if what if?  Stan held onto that thick sweaty waist
feeling Bo's muscles tensing with the effort to keep the barbell up as Stan
almost forgot to keep the count going.  The moment of truth hung in the air
four, five, six seconds, Stan's cock pressing forward into that burning hot
crack.  It was now or never, the moment for Stan to step up and be a
man... was... now!  With the smallest of motions he lined up his forward
jutting cock into Bo's crack and as he tightened his grip around that huge
waist, his cockhead found the still greasy stretched ring!
	"NO!" Bo bellowed loud enough to echo through the entire warehouse
as that thick teenage cock found his hole and pressed against it "what the
FUCK!"
	"Lower... the... bar..." Stan panted, feeling the hot flesh begin
to swallow his tight swollen cockhead "one!"
	"NO!" Bo felt himself pushed off-balance, his stance so wide his
torso toppled forward.  Only Stan's grip around his waist kept him and the
bar from falling entirely.
	"Two!" Stan inched his cock in another inch.
	"Get that away... from... my ass... what the... FUCK?" Bo gasped as
that thick hard tube was eased into his lubed hole, inch after incredible
inch.
	"Three" Stan felt the ring loosen, his cock breaking through.  He
grabbed tight and lunged, gambling everything he could do this; he could
pull off the greatest gamble of his young stupid life.  Even if Bo did a
complete one-eighty on him and decked him for this stunt, he would know his
dick finally FINALLY felt THIS! lunging forward until half his cock was
buried in that greasy hole!
	"Fuck!" Bo screamed as his hole was stretched by that six and a
half inch round thick uncut piece of horny teenage battering ram.  He held
the bar half off the floor as his ass rocked backwards into that cock,
feeling the widest part of that adult-sized bazooka pass the tightest part
inside him and then the whole damn torpedo was rocking into him, sliding
forward to the hilt!
	"Five!"
	"I'm gonna kill ya punk!  Ya rapin me!  Coach!  No don't!" Bo
pressed back until he felt those shaved pubes rubbing against his muscled
glutes.
	"Nineteen!" Stan gasped as he pressed forward until there was no
more room, he was squeezed all the way into that burning hot hole, his cock
encircled by the tightest hottest slickest thing he could ever imagine.  If
this is what fucking, REAL fucking felt like, he would never go back to
anything else "twenty!" he gasped, every nerve in his cock telling him he
was going to explode with all those sensations if he didn't do something
fast "okay" grunting out the words "lower... it... down... slow... ly!"
	"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Bo's back was a sweaty furnace burning Stan's
front as he leaned forward lowering the barbell down to the floor.  As he
did his hips rocked backwards yet again, shoving his ass back into Stan's
cock, impaling himself completely on that rock-hard monster.  The angle of
his ass as he bent in two only tightened the grip around that cock, already
swollen and drum-tight from the cockring.  So when Bo dropped the barbell
to the floor and lowered himself to his hands, he began a slow rhythmic
tightening of his ass muscles around that cock and began a barely
perceptible rocking back and forth, feeling Stan's hip muscles respond with
a counter thrusting.  Stan began a serious fucking motion into that muscle
ass, his cock on autopilot.  Even if the place blew up around him, Stan
could not have stopped the steady fucking into that perfect muscle ass if
his life depended on it.  He had barely matched rhythms to Bo's squeezing
and rocking motions when his cock swelled even more!
	"Don't you fuckin dare!" Bo growled beneath him, the deep bass
vibrating through his stomach into his crotch and into his cock "y'better
get that outa me!  Don't ya fuckin dare even think about shootin – " and
that did it!  Stan screamed as his hips jerked and shivered, his cock
exploded a hundred missiles erupting from his balls, the granddaddy of all
orgasms rocking Stan off-balance and almost off Bo's slippery back, but Bo
grabbed Stan's ass and held him tight as his bowels filled with that
scalding liquid, Stan blowing load after load deep inside Bo's chute, his
entire body writhing and spasming out of control.  His cock blew itself
inside out as his hot cum scalded its way out his splayed-wide cockhead,
now so sensitive it felt like his skin was rubbing off.  He tried to pull
out of that hole gripping him tight "no y'don't Studman!  No you don't
coach!" Bo held him in a vice grip "you goddamned emptied yer nuts in my
ass!  You shot off in me!"
	"Oh fuck oh fuck" Stan grunted and jerked, barely able to think
much less speak.
	"You blew yer wad in my ass!  What the fuck!"
	"Fuck! Fuck" he almost said: it was almost an accident but knew
that bullshit was miles away now.  He had turned the corner and there was
no going back.  He did it!  He fucked the big dude!  Now there was hell to
pay! "yeah, I came I came up your ass!  Don't care if – "
	"Ya think I invited you over t'fuck me?"
	"Feel this?" Stan gave another shove into that burning hot hole,
surprised he was barely losing his hardon "feel my dick up yer ass?"
	"Real stud coach all of a sudden, huh?"
	"Yeah!" Stan gave a few more thrusts, but felt his dick was way too
sensitive now.  But still he stayed hard!  What the hell was going on?
	Bo released his grip and Stan staggered backwards, his dick sliding
out of Bo's ass with a wet pop.  Stan looked down at his cock, expecting it
to be slimy and gross, but instead it looked like nothing he recognized.
His cock was bigger and redder than he'd ever seen.  He gave it a squeeze
as the last glob of cum oozed out of his wide slit, the foreskin pulled
back thick and puffy.  He raised his head to see Bo struggling vertical,
knowing the next few seconds would decide his fate.  He braced for Bo to
lunge at him, but instead saw him stagger over to that padded table and
roll his bulk onto it like so much dead weight.
	"Are... are... you okay?" Stan was expecting Bo to smash him to
pieces and instead the big hunk looked like he was ready to collapse.
	"Get... over... here!" Bo growled out of breath.
	Stan knew that tone and just like that waddled over to where Bo had
thrown himself on his back.  When Bo lifted his legs backward and shoved
his ass out to the edge of the table Stan could barely get the words out,
	"You... you... you want me to...?"
	"You forgetting somethin?"
	"Huh?  What?" Stan stayed out of arm's reach just in case.
	"Trickin me into sex shit like that huh?" Bo grumbled then there
was a faint wink.  When Stan saw that, he knew he was home clear "got me
off balance so I couldn't defend myself, then overpowerin the big lug when
my back was turned, huh?  That how y'do things where you come from?"
	"Wait!  I mean – " Stan had nothing to lose so he decided to
play along "I mean it was an accident.  It slipped!" all but rolling his
eyes at the corniness of it "but..."
	"Seems t'me ya did yer fuckin damnest t'get that password outa me"
Bo shifted his weight, but keeping his legs up like that left little to the
imagination "and I do mean fuckin damnest!  C'mere coach!" pointing at his
crotch "y'bent me over and even fucked me in the ass, still I ain't said
uncle – "
	"Wait, but I mean" Stan took a few steps forward until his slowly
deflating cock was resting on those thick purple bull-balls hanging out of
Bo's pouch.
	"So that means now I call the shots" Bo narrowed his eyes "you do
exactly what I say" reaching over to the bottle of lube at the end of the
table.  He lubed his huge paw and grabbed that over-stimulated tube hanging
from Stan's smooth crotch "yeah, fuckin stud meat" beginning a slow greased
stroke up and down its length "penalty is we now gonna match each other
stroke for stroke.  Guy who gets hard first gets to – "
	"Gets to what?"
	"Lube my dick!  Now Stan!" when he heard his real name, Stan knew
this was for real.  The lube was shoved into his right hand and with the
camera a few feet from the activities Stan pulled that enormous slab free
of Bo's jock and started lubing it like it was his own.  Like his own but
bigger, the adult-sized model of his, but darker and more gnarly.  Once his
hand was on that monster dick but if the damnest thing didn't happen!  Bo's
hand on his own cock was easing the blood back into his shaft, like the
giant orgasm he had moments ago barely counted "yeah, looks like this fuck
tool is enjoying our fun time tonight, ain't that right?"
	"Damn..." Stan looked down at the joined crotches, their two cocks
being jacked in rhythm.  As fast as his cock was responding, he could feel
Bo's cock also tightening and filling with blood.
	"Feels like we got ourselves a tie here" Bo began rocking his
crotch into Stan's fist "like we gonna hafta come up with a way t'fuck each
other, huh Stan?"
	"No wait!  I can't" but the terror of that image only pumped more
hardness into his red dick, the cockring tightening and keeping up a steady
progress towards full blown bone.
	"Since y'still ain't got that password outa me... Stan..." Bo
nodded over at one of the end of table "get those eggs back out... both of
them!" which is what Stan did.  He hoped he was stalling to keep Bo from
raping his ass the way he did Bo a few moments before.  He returned with
the same rubber eggs that were shoved up that football-stud of a cop
earlier as well as Bo, simultaneously plugged like two abused twins.  It
seems like years ago the four of them "okay turn around Stan!" Bo had one
already lubed "lean forward!"
	"C'mon Bo... I mean..." Stan knew anything up his ass and all bets
were off "I can't take your huge cock up me!"
	"All the more reason's we gotta get ya ready.  Penalty time for
Stan the Man!" and Stan was not very gently turned around and bent forward.
He moaned and protested but the egg found its new home deep inside Stan's
puffy hole.  Again Bo's brain registered all the images of the long history
of Stan being forced to be on the receiving end of "now your turn to finish
what ya came here for" Bo resumed his position on his back and pulled his
legs up and apart.  It could not be plainer what he wanted Stan to do with
the second egg "y'thinkin just because y'popped a load – two loads
studman – y'think we're finished here?" with one hand he pointed his
half-hard at Stan's face "gonna take more than a quick poke to make my
spill that password!" spreading his cheeks wide "do it Stan!  Just like
y'did before.  Gettin it now Stan?"
	"Bo – I mean Bull I mean Bo" Stan stalled "this thing feels like
a watermelon inside me, and it's gonna be worse for you right?  After what
I – "
	"I'm gonna hafta suffer then huh?" Bo's eyes went around the room
to various items "think yer tough enough to make me suffer?  Let's see how
hard y'really are.  I mean hurt me Stan!  Push it, give it all ya got!"
	"You mean y'really want me to – "
	"Less jawin more doin!  Do it!"
	Stan wanted to convince himself he was too squeamish for half of
this, but standing there with the hardon that would not quit, a softball up
his butt, and its twin already greased and aimed for that same hole his
cock had invaded moments before, Stan had to laugh at his childishness.  He
rubbed the egg up and down Bo's crotch into those bull balls, noticing the
egg was not much smaller than one of Bo's nuts.  He pressed it into that
wrinkled pucked and Bo gave a deep gasp and then next thing Stan knew both
the egg and two of his fingers were inside Bo's ass!  A split second of
disgusted shock was replaced with a certain sadistic glee as he shoved the
egg as far as his fingers would reach, marveling at the feeling of his
fingers inside another guy!  He kept them inside that hot chute, feeling
the slime of his cum there, wallowing now in the sick nastiness of it all.
	"Do it Stan!  Finish what y'came here for" Bo's eyes were shut, his
head thrown back, gripping the end of the table with his lube-shined hands
"make me talk!"
	"Fuck you are the biggest" Stan lined up his cock with his fingers
"meanest" rubbing the tip alongside them and easing it back into that
amazing hot slick hole "hottest" with a shove he pushed inside "fuck pig!"
and Stan was balls deep inside again, his fingers rubbing the underside of
his cock, all pressed together inside Bo's ass "I ever laid eyes on!" and
this time he was slamming into the hole with all his might, his fingers
twisting this way and that, pressing into his cock then into the lining of
Bo's rectum "y'want it rough huh?" Stan grabbed Bo's nuts with his free
hand and gave them a tight yank "like this huh?" Bo yelled but that only
drove Stan to speed up his hard thrusts "I'm gonna fuck I gonna cum!"
	"Not... so... fast!" Bo grunted between thrusts.  He reached over
to the controls almost out of reach on the end of the table where it had
been discarded before.  He punched a button or two with his eyes blurry
with tears and then Stan felt it – both his butt and the end of his cock
were buzzing in unison.
	"Holy... FUCK!" but Stan did not know which was more amazing.  The
sensation vibrating all over his midsection or the sight of what was
happening to Bo's front.  With each pulse coming from the vibrating plug
and each thrust of Stan's tormented cock, Bo's cock was starting a major
serious response to the combination of fingers, egg and dick inside his
ass.  With each lunge Bo's cock swelled and thickened, and continued to
swell and thicken, growing inch by inch until it was way past his navel,
and still it kept hardening "dude your cock!"
	"Harder!  Harder!" Bo's fingers were playing with the control box,
sending more and more wild vibrations deep into both their bodies.  The
muscles in his neck were popping out with the strain of what was being done
to him "yeah, yeah, like that!"
	"Rough stuff huh?" Stan had to get those controls away from Bo
before he went nuts.  With a great lunge he managed to reach over and grab
those straps still tied to the corners of the table, almost coming
uncoupled in the process "getting beat and fucked ain't rough enough for
ya, huh?"
	"No wait!" Bo's eyes flew open.
	"Password bullshit!  Penalty bullshit!  Rough stuff bullshit!" Stan
got one hand tied back and then with one hand twisting those huge eggs away
from that stained pouch, Bo was distracted enough – or pretending to be
– Stan got the other hand tied as well.  When Stan really took in the
sight of Bo pinned and helpless on the table with his ass being tortured
but good, he realized this was not the first time Bo had been tied up in
this position.  The whole fucking room was designed for this!  For Bo to be
tied up and tortured!  But by whom?  Not those guys – those rent-a-cops
from earlier.  But it was becoming obvious all of this, all of these
arranged fake work-out was for Bo's ordeals.  The drawers full of sex toys,
the padded benches, the ropes and straps hanging from the ceiling, the
whole fake work-out cum dungeon stage was designed just for Bo's benefit.
And to get filmed on top of it!
	"Fuck, what a fuckin idiot I am!" Stan said out loud "fuckin dumb
high school punk!" and just like that Stan yanked his fingers and cock free
of that wide-open hole "big fuckin weightlifter! Ha!"
	"No wait!  Ain't like that!" Bo felt the emptiness in his ass, the
egg now rattling around loosely.  Talk about real torture "wait, come
back!"
	"You want that don't ya?" Stan pressed fingers back into that puffy
hole.  Three of them this time "bet y'want nothing more'n my whole goddamn
fist up there!"
	"No don't!" Bo bellowed, loud enough to bring Larry running around
the corner.  Stan waited a few seconds for the swat team to come to Bo's
rescue but when nothing happened, he had to laugh.
	"Guess he knows better than t'come running when Bo's screaming for
mercy, ain't I right?  No don't need to say shit.  We got you figured out,
big muscle bound gorilla wants it rough" Stan remembered some of the items
he spotted in those drawers.  He sprinted over to one and returned with a
few select models.  Seeing Bo struggling with his restraints Stan decided
to go for broke "man, and t'think I was all scared about you beatin my ass.
What a laugh" Stan was busy untangling the other straps from the table,
looping one around Bo's ankle "big dude wants it bad, wants to be made the
big pussy, so what's the fucking password?"
	"Fuck you!" Bo struggled as his foot was yanked backwards towards
his shoulder.  They both knew Bo could have broken free anytime he wanted
but this was all part of the game.  And Stan was getting into it now enough
to give Bo a serious fight if it came to that.
	"Yeah `fuck' that's the password ain't it?" Stan laughed as the
other foot was tied and yank up and back.  This time Bo's ass was on
display but not so voluntarily like before.  Now he was trapped and pinned
"nope, don't think so" Stan stood back to admire his handiwork.  His hand
went to his hardon as the egg inside him reminded him how much he would
like to just stand there and empty his balls and leave Bo for Larry to find
later on.  But his evil brain was warming up to the task "sure as fuck had
no problem taking my dick up your ass – or that cop Steve before when he
– "
	"Hey!  No names!"
	"Fuck too late for that Bo!" Stan went over to his gymbag and
removed a tube of something Bo could not see "if that is your name.  Bo,
Butch, don't matter now" smearing the cream onto a giant dildo he selected
before.  The damn thing was maybe fifteen inches long and almost as thick
as Stan's wrist.  Bo twisted his head forward and moaned,
	"No not that!  Please don't!"
	"What's the fucking PASSWORD?"
	"I uh I dunno" Bo lied, bracing himself for the intrusion.  He did
not have to wait long.  He barely had the words out before he felt the
blunt cold end of the rubber tube pressing into his exposed crack.
	"Last time!  What's the password?"
	"Fuck YOU!" Bo screamed as Stan gave the head a hard shove and it
ripped into Bo with a deafening scream "AHHHH!" he screamed as Stan began a
slow then more rapid in-and-out motion of the first few inches of the
scary-thick tube.  But Stan's eyes were on Bo's cock, expecting it to
shrivel and collapse with the pain.  When it only continued to throb and
pulse with the thrusts, Stan knew he hit paydirt!
	"Big fuckin stud all tied up, his ass stuffed with dick!" Stan
began to swat at Bo's balls with his other hand, giving his own cock a
breather from the relentless jacking.  This endless hardon was beginning to
arouse his curiosity.  When did Bo slip him Viagra, he wondered "running
outa time here Muscle Dick!" Stan gave Bo's nuts a hard tug downwards
causing that huge boner to bend vertically.  Then Stan noticed Bo's
cockhead was all shiny and leaking a stupid amount of cloudy fluid!
	"Damn get that thing outa me!  It's burning!"
	"The old Bengay trick, huh?" instead Stan shoved another two inches
deeper inside Bo.  To distract him from that, Stan kept up a steady
swatting of Bo's junk, first his tightening balls, then the swollen
underside of that black cock "there's rough, and then there's ROUGH!" Stan
shoved the last five inches deep inside Bo with a nasty glee.  Bo bucked
and flipped on the padded table like a wild stallion but the ropes held.
Barely.  When it looked like Bo was calming down and starting to adjust to
the invader, Stan grabbed the huge dildo and pulled it free.  Boy did that
make Bo scream louder!
	"Say it!  Say uncle!  Say the password!"  Stan's cock could take no
more.  Between the constant jacking and the damn egg inside him, he knew he
could not keep this up.  And knowing he was finally doing what he always
dreamed of, his secret masturbation fantasy of wailing on a dude twice his
size and making them do all the kinky sex shit he always fantasized about
was making his balls ache for release.  He lined up his cock and slid it
back inside that hole, now loosened and smooth around his sensitized
cockhead "fuck yeah!  Fuck this!  Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck!" setting up a
steady rhythm, grabbing Bo's cock for leverage.  He began a steady
relentless slamming into that stretched hole, surprised to feel that egg
still there, bumping against his head everytime he slammed deep.  But his
hand jerking Bo's cock was having just as dramatic effect.  Bo's cock was
burping an endless supply of that pre-cum, the skin sliding back and forth
with greater resistance as the shaft and then the head swelled to their
maximum hardness.  Stan knew the warning signs that Bo was ready to blow!
	"Fuck fuck fuck I'm gonna – "
	"Ya wanna blow your load ain't that right?" Stan's hand flew off
Bo's cock, his own dick screaming to a halt.
	"I'm gonna cum I'm gotta gotta – "
	"Password Bo!"
	"I when I cum, after – "
	"No now!" Stan even turned down the controls to their eggs "there's
torture and there's torture!" withdrawing his cock completely "say it!"
	"No!"
	"Say uncle!" Stan was almost not able to grab those turkey-egg
balls they were pulled up so tight "SAY IT!" managing a tight stranglehold
around them and twisting them mercilessly! "say uncle!"
	"I gotta cum!"
	"Fuck fuck!" Stan felt himself go over the edge and barely got his
cock slammed back into Bo's hole before unloading a long painful burning
cumload, three then four shots, almost blacking out in the process "see
what y'made me do?" Stan pulled free, his cock burning from the Bengay, a
backfire he had experienced before.  He rubbed as much off his cock as he
could, squeezing the last drops of cum from the slit.  As an after thought
he smeared the combined slime onto the exposed cockhead of Bo's throbbing
hardon, rubbing it onto the head with the flat of his palm, an exquisite
torture if there ever was one.  Bo bucked and screamed as the burning began
to invade his pissslit, Stan's other hand jacking the shaft as only a
strong sadistic jock could.
	"Okay okay OKAY!" Bo tried to yank his crotch away from the pain
"I'll tell you!"
	"Now we're getting somewhere" Stan held the dildo in front of Bo's
teary-eyed face "or y'want me – "
	"No no not that!  I'm tellin ya!  Okay, uncle uncle STOP!" his
cockhead being rubbed raw no matter how he tried to pull away "okay the
password is HARRISON!"
	"Damn, I did it!" Stan beamed.  And just like that he turned the
switches for the eggs to full and before Bo could say another word slammed
that dildo back inside his red hole.  Bo screamed as his ass was stretched
to the breaking point and both of Stan's hands began a steady stroking of
that ten-plus pole sticking up from his spasming crotch.  He got maybe five
good strokes in before Bo bellowed and his cock exploded, erupting cum all
over Stan's face, his chest, hands, crotchs, table, even some onto the
floor behind Bo's head.  Only when Larry came running around the corner
after several minutes of Bo's screaming did Stan's hands stop their
torture.