Teen Bodybuilder -- Part 3 by email@example.com
This story contains references to sexual contact between teenaged males. If you do not enjoy such stories, or it is illegal to read such stories in your jurisdiction, please do not continue reading. The following story is a work of fiction.
Teen Bodybuilder -- Part 3
It's funny how forever never lasts long enough. Monday morning arrived with a 5:30 a.m. alarm, and I tried to extricate myself from Ty's embrace without waking him, but to no avail. Tyler was a `sleepin' somebody' -- no alarm, no hallway racket, no knocking at the door could awaken my sleeping giant once he had drifted off into dreamland. But once I pulled away from him, he would open his beautiful eyes sleepily and search the room for me, as though my departure from his side was taking away a part of himself.
I had 6 a.m. swim practice, so had to get up, dress, grab a granola bar or two, and ride my bike to the pool. "Have a good practice, Eric," Ty said dreamily, then was back to sleep before I'd even closed the door behind me. Oh, those early morning practices -- our guys and girls had swum maybe 7,000 yards, had breakfast, and were finished their first class or two before the majority of students on campus were even out of bed! What a life -- and I loved it! There was such camaraderie amongst our team, deep friendships, and that powerful bond that hard athleticism builds between young people. Our practices were getting tougher as we entered October, preparing for the first meet only a few weeks away. This morning's sets were brutal -- coach decided to test us with some lactic sets -- where we swam sets of 100s as hard as we could, with long rest periods to recover in between. This builds lactic acid in the blood , which improves our endurance. The sets were physically exhausting, and we all felt whipped as we dragged into the locker room to change. Just before leaving, I remembered Jimmy's interest in serving as our team manager, and I went to talk to the coach.
Coach Wilson was a tough but good-natured man, and his office door was always open to us. "What can I do for you, Donnelly?" he asked as I poked my head in. "Coach, I have a friend who was interested in helping out as team manager, if the spot was still open." "Oh, great --bring him in this afternoon if possible , we still need someone," he answered enthusiastically. I hurried back to the dorms, arriving by 8:30, just in time to rouse Tyler for his 9 a.m. history class. That boy could sleep through anything! Doors were slamming, music playing up and down our floor, Ty's clock radio -- set for 8 -- was blaring a rock tune, and there he slept, dead to the world!
"Ty, Ty, wake up," I said, as I gathered my books for class. Still he slept. I couldn't resist -- I began to gently caress his muscular form, stroking his rippled abs, caressing his powerful chest, softly tickling his lower sides where his small briefs had slipped so tantalizingly low on him. His morning erection throbbed in his briefs, tenting the tight fabric. I absentmindedly fondled his male organ through the cotton fabric, watching it harden and lengthen even more, reaching to touch him there again, only to be stopped when he playfully grabbed my wrist and said, "You little tease -- you know I have to get to class!" "Good morning, sleepyhead," I said to him, and smiled. He arose, grabbed a cold pop tart, and started dressing.
On my way back down the hall, I ran into Jimmy, and told him to come to the pool at 3 p.m., when our afternoon practice started, to talk to the coach. He was immediately excited, and promised to see me then. I went on to a quick breakfast, then to class. At 3, as I walked onto the pool deck from the locker room, I saw Jimmy enter the pool from the lobby doors -- in a shirt and tie, just like he was going to a real job interview! I had to chuckle at his enthusiasm before introducing him to the coach. After we'd been given our first sets, Coach took Jimmy to his office. Through the glass window, I could glimpse them talking earnestly, and saw them shake hands. At the end of the afternoon, Coach told me how grateful he was that I'd "found" Jimmy -- he was impressed with Jimmy's serious approach, his interest in and knowledge of swimming, and his excited attitude. Jimmy was the perfect guy for team manager! Jimmy would not be there for the mornings, just help out in the afternoon practices, starting the next day.
That evening, Tyler and I had dinner at the dining hall, and he mentioned something I had completely forgotten. "Eric," he said, "um...I know you spend loads of time at the pool, but I was wondering if, well, if maybe you might have some time to help me with the butterfly stroke? Remember that first week on campus when you said you would?" "Sure, Ty," I said, excited that he was interested in improving his swimming. We made plans to have a lesson the upcoming Saturday, since the weekdays were too occupied with classes, my regular practices, library time, etc. We returned to our room and hit the books. Tyler's math was much improved, but now he was struggling with English 101 -- freshman writing. I suggested he ask Jimmy for some help, since I knew Jimmy was a good student and getting good grades from what I heard. Tyler ran down the hall to Jimmy's room, and soon the two of them were back, Jimmy full of ideas Tyler could use as fodder for the endless stream of papers the class demanded. This week's assignment was to write a step-by-step approach on how to do something -- perform a task or accomplish a goal. Jimmy made a suggestion: "Tyler, why not write about your preparations for a bodybuilding contest? You know, how you change your workouts one month before, or alter your diet -- give week by week accounts of what foods you eat or avoid, what sets you change, what you do to psych yourself up the day before, how you calm yourself when you walk on stage -- you know, a step-by-step guide to entering a competition?"
"Man, that's a great idea!" Tyler exclaimed. "Will you read over it when I'm done and help me fix it up?" "Of course," said Jimmy, "I'd be happy to help you, Tyler." Tyler got to work outlining his paper, and Jimmy headed back to his room. I noticed Jimmy stop as he opened the door to the hall, and glance back almost longingly at Tyler. He stood for several seconds, just admiring the buff bodybuilder, though Tyler was hunched over his paper, unaware of his admirer. Then Jimmy saw me watching him, and he bolted quickly out of the room, a blush spreading across his cheeks.
That night, it was decided we would sleep in our own beds -- I felt guilty about awakening Tyler so early each morning when I left for practice, and told him so. "Eric, I don't mind. I fall right back to sleep," he said. Then I told him truthfully, "Ty, I also need my rest. Our training has picked up in intensity, and to be honest, I have trouble falling asleep next to you. Sometimes, I just lie there quietly, thinking about you, and watching you, and...well...wanting to touch you in your sleep." Tyler smiled warmly, and said, "Well, I have to admit I can fall asleep anytime, anyplace. But I do dream about you when I'm asleep," he said in defense of himself. We agreed that weekend nights would be ours to share, but Monday through Thursday should be spent in our own beds.
Tuesday afternoon's practice was hard, but our guys were pleasantly surprised to hit the locker room afterward and find it neat and clean. Jimmy had taken it upon himself on his first day to straighten up for us, removing the stray kickboards or hand paddles that ended up on the floor, gathering up the moldy towels that were piled in corners and returning them to the towel room for washing, and making the room orderly for the first time in ages. Exclamations of "Hey, this is nice!" and "Whoa, who cleaned up around here?" were heard from many of my teammates. Jimmy was out on the pool deck rinsing out our Gatorade coolers when I brought a bunch of the guys to meet him. Jimmy was extremely shy, almost bashful, around the guys. He shook hands, but only rarely made eye contact. Several of them thanked him, and welcomed him to our team. The girls on our team took to him instantly, and within days had him blushing and rolling his eyes when they joked about taking him out on dates, and hinted at things that might occur on said date. The guys warmed to the shy kid as well, or at least most of them did. But a few days after he started, I did hear Pete and one or two others making snide remarks about the "fairy" who cleaned up after us. I started to cut Pete down, but Timmy was quicker.
"Pete, you are so full of crap sometimes. Here's a kid who's done nothing but he helpful and nice to all of us, and you have to start ripping him. Why don't you keep your ignorant remarks to yourself, mate?" Several of the other guys supported Timmy, and Pete grew silent, glaring at Timmy, but saying nothing more.
Our days grew ever busier with classes, practice, term papers, etc. Tyler had reduced his strenuous workouts for a couple weeks -- he explained he needed to "load up" on his carbs for awhile, then start working out intensely in mid-October to get the extra weight "in shape" for the Junior Nationals in November. Oh, he still did some training every day -- but mainly just lighter lifting and cardio to keep toned. College budgets being what they are, neither Tyler nor I had lots of spare change for laundry. The one advantage to this was that Ty did not want to sweat into his shorts and tees, so he continued to exercise in just his tight little bikini briefs. Oh, what a shame -- being forced to watch him pumping, flexing and strutting that buff, musclebound body around our tiny dorm room -- in such close proximity to such a hot, nearly naked stud -- it was murder on my study habits! And I didn't mind a bit.
Friday night arrived, and when I returned to our room from some late hours at the library, I found Tyler setting up our mattresses on the floor. I had a 6 a.m. practice the following morning, so the two of us simply enjoyed some cuddling time, making small talk and laughing and giggling like a couple of ten year-olds. Though I constantly craved Tyler -- always wanting to touch him, feel him -- I was also happy just to lie next to him, whispering and scheming, listening to his soft breathing, knowing he was safe and warm with me.
After the morning practice, I met Tyler for breakfast at a local bagel shop. While I hungrily slathered on cream cheese, he chose to eat a plain bagel and some healthy fruit! We went back to the dorm, studied for a couple hours, then headed to the pool for his butterfly lesson. I took Tyler into the Varsity Swim Team locker room, which was empty at that hour, and we stripped down and put on our suits. Tyler still had the little red Speedo I'd given him previously, and he still filled it out just as nicely. I was going to put on a looser `drag' suit, but opted for a tighter-fitting Speedo with a colorful pattern, just so Ty wouldn't feel like he was the only guy in a "bikini" suit. The pool was relatively empty, and we had a lane in the shallow area to ourselves. As before, longing gazes and hungry stares followed Tyler along the pool deck -- the lifeguards and few swimmers could not help gawking at the powerful muscleboy in the revealing, eye-catching suit. I was pleased and surprised to notice a few eyes turning in my direction also. We hopped into the water and swam a few laps to warm up.
"OK, Ty, the secret to a good butterfly is undulation," I told him. "What do you mean?" he asked "Well, you need to swim like a dolphin -- have you ever seen film of them -- the way they go up and down in the water? You need to flex your hips, your abs -- almost like a humping motion -- this gives you power from your body core, and really helps your arms and legs move you forward." I had him work on some dolphin kicking with fins so he could practice his body movement. Then he did some arm drills with the fins. But when the fins came off, he was struggling, so, standing in the waist-deep water, I had him float on his stomach while I placed my arms under him. My left arm was under his chest, my right under his thighs. Even in the water, he was heavy -- muscle is the heaviest part of your body, and he was loaded with that! He practiced some one-arm drills, then worked on flexing and undulation
It secretly thrilled me to have him lying in my arms, humping and squirming. My mind started to wander to a nasty place, and I started to become aroused in my small suit, so quickly had to refocus on the lesson! One guard, and I think it was the one who nearly drooled over Tyler when we'd been there weeks ago, was in the chair staring open-mouthed at us. He kept reaching down to his lap, trying to adjust himself -- trying unsuccessfully to hide his own throbbing erection which was tenting his red shorts. I couldn't hide my smirk, proud that others were aroused by the site of Tyler -- my Tyler. Fly is not something a beginner learns in one day, but at least he got some of the basics down. We agreed to work some more the following Saturday, so headed back to the locker room to change. I was startled to walk in and find Jimmy there, alone, posing like a "muscleman" in front of a full-length mirror. All he was wearing was a brief swimsuit, and I recognized it as one of the new team racing suits our coach had received just a day or two ago. In fact, the suits hadn't even been distributed yet - they were still in coach's office. Jimmy must have sneaked one out. Jimmy just stood there, frozen, a look of shocked horror on his young face. He quickly dropped his small arms from his biceps pose and placed his hands discretely in front of his groin area, as though embarrassed to have us see him so undressed. "Jimmy, what are you doing?" I asked. He stuttered and stammered, "Uh...I...um...I...well um, I...", then just dropped his eyes to the floor, and fell silent. His face was ashen, and he trembled slightly. I had no idea what was going on, or what to say, but finally asked, "Isn't that one of our new team racing suits you're wearing?"
Jimmy slowly looked up and nodded somberly, but said nothing. I was clueless, but Tyler -- so helpless in math and English -- was far, far wiser in the subject of human nature. He said quietly, "Jimmy, are you posing in that suit because you want to imagine being a varsity swimmer -- pretending to be one of the swimming studs on Eric's team?" Jimmy ever so slowly raised his eyes to meet Tyler's, and again nodded his head, looking like he would burst into tears at any second. Then he turned to me and spoke, almost in a whisper. "I am sorry Eric -- I borrowed this suit from coach's office, just to pretend to be someone I'm not, and never could be -- a real athlete. I wasn't going to steal the suit, I was going to put it right back, I swear. I know I have no right to even touch one of these racing suits, not to mention actually wear one. I just wanted to see what it would be like to be a real person on this campus instead of the nobody I am." He pursed his lips and squeezed his eyes shut, then fell silent again.
I was astounded at this turn of events, but then Tyler said, "It's OK Jimmy -- no harm done. We all like to pretend sometimes, even engage in role-playing. I have my own fantasies, and I'm sure Eric does as well. It's not a big deal. Actually, you look like a real swimmer in that suit!" Recovering from my shock, I added, "Jimmy, it's cool man. Coach orders plenty of extra suits -- guys are always losing `em, ripping `em -- whatever, and always needing replacements. Nobody will miss that suit -- if you want to keep it." "Really?", Jimmy asked excitedly. He raised his hands somewhat in his excitement -- enough to allow Tyler and me to notice what he'd been trying to hide -- Jimmy had an erection, which the brief swimsuit could in no way hide. Tyler grinned and said, "Now we see why they call them `boner suits'!"
Jimmy quickly dropped his hands back in front of himself, trying to shield his swollen maleness from our sight, a look of embarrassed dread on his face. "It's OK, Jimmy," said Tyler -- "we're all guys here -- hell, we all get woodies sometimes. Why are you so embarrassed?" "I...I've always been shy about stuff like that, Tyler. Gee, I'm not like you guys -- you've both probably had like a hundred girlfriends and you guys both have these great bodies and are used to showing them off -- but not me. I'm really shy I guess."
I realized how true his words were -- when visiting other dorm rooms, you always saw guys in just their boxers, or maybe briefs, or at least shirtless. But Jimmy was always fully dressed whenever I saw him -- I started to wonder if he slept with his clothes on! Wanting to help him conquer his shy insecurities, I told him to come over and let me see how his suit fit. He walked hesitantly toward me, still trying to cover his privates. I told him to drop his hands to his sides, and he reluctantly did so. His erect shaft was obvious in the small suit, pointing upward and leftward, the head nearly reaching his hip. I was a little surprised at how well-endowed the kid was -- he certainly wasn't lacking in the "male equipment" area. He stared at the floor until I lifted his chin with my hand and told him to look forward, not down. Both Tyler and I complimented him on his trim physique -- certainly not as muscular as Tyler's or even mine, but he was in good shape none the less. I asked him how the suit felt, and he said great. It fit him like a glove, and was rather flattering on his lithe frame. He jumped slightly when I placed my hand along the waistband in back, checking the snugness of the suit. It fit him perfectly, and both Tyler and I told him a little more exercise could easily help him fill out his chest and arms.
Ty and I had some late afternoon studying to do, so we all decided to head back to the dorm. Jimmy went to a corner of the room and, facing away from us, began to peel off the suit. "Jimmy," Tyler said, "don't be so shy -- come over here and change with us!" Jimmy turned toward us just as we both stripped off our Speedos -- and his eyes naturally went down our bodies before locking on our exposed genitals. His eyes widened momentarily, then he grinned slightly and peeled off his own suit, revealing a healthy, semi-hard cock that was nothing to be ashamed of. "Tyler?" Jimmy asked. "How come you have almost no pubic hair?" "Well, Jimmy," Tyler answered, "I shaved most of it off before the hot bod competition -- as you might recall, my posing suit was quite small and revealing -- and pubic hair all over the place just doesn't look cool." "Wow," Jimmy barely whispered, "you shaved your bush -- that's so fuckin' hot..." We three casually dressed, chatting about this and that, while furtively "checking" each other's assets without being too conspicuous. Once dressed, we headed back to the dorm. Jimmy agreed to come by after dinner and help Tyler with an English assignment.
Knowing Jimmy would come by around eight o'clock, Ty and I decided to help Jimmy get over his nervous inhibitions. "I think the kid just needs some male-to-male bonding -- some hang-time with the dudes, you know?" Tyler stated. "Yeah, I agree," I replied. "Let him see the male body is nothing to be ashamed of, or to be hidden from view." We both agreed to dress casually -- Tyler would wear his baby blue string bikini under his split-up-the-sides shorts, and I'd just hang in my FTL briefs. When Jimmy arrived, he seemed a little taken aback by our revealing attire, but within minutes was becoming more relaxed as he sat on Tyler's bed next to the muscleboy and they compared notes and ideas on the class assignment. I worked on some questions from my History book, and the room grew warm as we quietly talked and wrote. Jimmy eventually took his shirt off, but kept his jeans on. It was actually a good time to work -- Saturdays found many of the dorm residents out on the town, and the building was often fairly quiet until they started stumbling in around midnight or later. Sometimes I would glance over at the two of them, and I caught Jimmy gazing longingly at Tyler when the bodybuilding stud was unaware. If Tyler needed another pen, Jimmy would jump up to find one. If he needed more paper, Jimmy was there to serve him. I thought it was sort of cute, observing Jimmy and the crush he obviously had on Tyler. By 9:30, we were done with the homework, and just started to talk. Jimmy asked me about some of the guys on the team -- what were they really like, were they good students -- stuff like that. I noticed he did not ask about any of the women's team members, which I found odd. We talked about some personal things, events from our younger days, etc.
"Tyler," Jimmy asked, out of the blue, "you said earlier today that we all have fantasies -- that we all like to pretend. What kind of fantasies do you have? Would you tell us?" Tyler looked suddenly uncomfortable, and started to squirm slightly. "Well, I don't know. I...I ...well, I just don't think I want to say." Jimmy persisted -- "I bet I know. It involves two girls -- no, THREE girls, and they are doing something really wild and freaky with you!" Tyler chuckled and said, simply, "Well, not exactly." I expected Tyler to silence Jimmy by coming up with some half-lame "fantasy" -- maybe he would be kidnapped by a tribe of Amazon women, and kept as a breeding stud, to be used by them at their whim! Like the way ranchers or farmers keep a stud bull for breeding, so these women would keep Tyler enslaved!
But straight-shooting, honest-as-the-day-is-long Tyler would never have made up something such as that. He was probably incapable of such far-fetched storytelling. Instead, he tried to ignore Jimmy, but to no avail. "Please, Tyler," said Jimmy, "can't you tell us a fantasy you have? I mean, you both know mine -- you caught me at it today! What does a real-life bodybuilder fantasize about?" Ty looked uncomfortable, and began to sweat slightly. He glanced from me to Jimmy, and back, finally stating, "Well, I sort of have a fantasy, but have never shared it with anyone."
Now, I was intrigued. He'd been my roommate for a month or more, but we'd never talked of things like "fantasies", so I became curious, and joined Jimmy in urging him to share. Tyler pursed his lips, and looked uncertain, but then quietly said, "Well, I have a sort of weird fantasy -- sort of embarrassing really. I sometimes like to imagine a couple of guys...well...having power over me. I mean, here I have this strong, muscular body, but I wonder what it'd be like to be at the mercy of someone weaker -- or a couple of weaker guys." Jimmy and I both held our breaths, waiting for him to continue. "I imagine them making me do a gut-wrenching workout -- I have to do whatever reps, sets, exercises they tell me. They work me to total exhaustion, then, when I'm weakened and defenseless, they...well...um...they maybe tie me up and do stuff to me." Jimmy was totally reading my mind as he barely squeaked out, "What kind of stuff?" Tyler turned beet red and stared at the floor. I didn't think he was going to answer, but then he whispered, "Well, you know, like...um...well, I guess like touch me, abuse me a little, even when I plead for them to stop, they even, well, humiliate me...sexually."
The breath I'd been holding escaped in a small gasp. Jimmy let out an "Ohhhh", that was more a groan than a word. Finally, Jimmy said softly, "Shit, Tyler, that's the wildest fantasy I ever heard. Who...I mean...would you...I mean...who do you imagine might do something like that to you...uh...I mean for you?" Tyler shrugged his broad shoulders, still staring at the floor and refusing to meet our eyes. "I don't know -- it's just a dumb fantasy," he said, "it's not going to be a reality. I'm ashamed I even mentioned it -- it's sort of disgusting, even perverted. Please, just forget I ever mentioned it."
Like that was going to happen! I could see a look of excited anticipation sweep across Jimmy's face, and quite honestly, he probably saw the same on mine. Jimmy's shyness and insecurities seemed to disappear as fast as an April snowfall. He got down on his knees so he would be at eye level with Tyler, who was seated on the bed, and spoke plainly. "Tyler, would you maybe like it if I...we...well, helped you fulfill your fantasy?" Tyler looked at him and said, "You guys? Oh, well, I don't know...I didn't mean for you guys to feel that, well, to think that...oh hell, I don't know what I was thinking! Why did I even say anything about this?"
It was my turn to speak. "Tyler," I said quietly, "is that something you might want to do? You know, have me and Jimmy boss you around, make you work your body to exhaustion, then...well...tie you up and be masters over you?" Tyler looked at me almost shyly, but didn't speak. Instead, he slowly nodded his head. I couldn't believe it. Tyler, who until just days ago had been as virgin as I had been, was now indicating his desire to participate in make-believe fantasies, replete with restraints, sexual domination, and who knew what all. My mind was reeling at the thought, yet my cock was stirring in my briefs, and within moments, my hard-on was impossible to hide. Tyler looked at the obvious swelling in my groin, smiled, then looked into my eyes and said, "Seems the idea is more than a little appealing to you, too!" I stared him in the eyes and replied coolly, "So, Tyler, you got any plans for the evening?"
It all started innocently enough. I said, "Tyler, strip off those running shorts, but you may keep your bikini on -- at least for now." "Yes, sir," he answered almost meekly. He slipped off the shorts and stood before us in his revealing little string bikini, the pouch obviously full with his man-meat. "Now", I continued, "set up your workout bench." He obeyed, pulling it out from under his bed and quickly setting it up. He retrieved his weights and arranged them nearby, then awaited his next command. Jimmy was sitting on Tyler's bed, staring wide-eyed in disbelief at these proceedings, but saying nothing. Then I said, "Jimmy, since Tyler and I are stripped to our underwear, it seems only appropriate that you do the same." Jimmy blushed furiously, then slowly stood up and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, dropping them to the floor. He was still wearing the small racing suit from this afternoon! And, for at least the second time that day, the tensile strength of the lycra fabric was being sorely tested by his enlarged, straining penis that was as hard as steel. Jimmy looked like he wanted to die, but Tyler just smiled and said, "Cool." Jimmy relaxed a little and smiled back. Next, I told Jimmy, "Give the musclestud his first assignment." Jimmy spoke softly at first, then gained his courage. "I...I want you to incline the bench and do 25 -- no -- 50 crunches." Tyler adjusted the padded bench and stretched his muscular form on top, hooking his bare feet under the rungs, and did as he was told. He placed his hands under his head and began his crunches. Jimmy and I could see his lats as they flared, and the cut obliques along his sides. Ten, fifteen, twenty -- Tyler did his assignment with relative ease. But at twenty-five, Jimmy walked to the head of the bench, kneeled, and placed his hands on Tyler's bulging delts. He squeezed those cannonball muscles while simultaneously applying downward pressure on Ty's shoulders. Now, the crunches were more difficult, and Tyler had to work at completing the last twenty-five. "Now, " Jimmy said, "do another fifty while I examine your ab development." Tyler began again, this time with me pressing down on his delts, creating resistance. Jimmy placed his hands on Tyler's cut abdominal muscles, feeling them flex and burn with each rep, digging his fingers into the solid flesh and tissue, creating even more resistance Tyler had to overcome. After one hundred crunches were done, it was my turn. "Stand up and pick up the barbell. You will do 50 curls." I had no idea how much weight was on them -- I guessed maybe eighty pounds or more. Tyler squatted and picked them up and began to do as he was told. Jimmy and I stood on each side, and we each began to feel and fondle his bulging biceps, squeezing down on them in a hopeless attempt to keep them from popping and peaking. "Oh, man, feel his triceps," Jimmy said, with awe in his voice.
"So, you get your rocks off feeling up muscle boys who are doing a workout?" Tyler stated unexpectedly. "You little fags like touching my hard muscles, feeling my hard body?" Jimmy and I were both surprised by his tone, but he winked at us and whispered, "Come on, play along." I realized this was part of the fantasy -- Tyler wanted to put us down, shame us, defy us, though he knew in the end we would win. "Ha! You call these muscles?" I exclaimed. "A schoolgirl has more muscles than this! Keep pumping!" Tyler glared at me in mock anger, and redoubled his efforts, curling at a furious pace. After he'd finished that set, Jimmy made him get back on the bench and use heavy dumbbells for a series of butterfly arm sets. "Faster, faster," Jimmy yelled, as the sweat began to glisten on Tyler's body, and the room gained a smell of man-sweat that I knew was Tyler's own sexy scent. Then, it was back to a standing position for leg squats. Jimmy and I again stood to each side, applying downward pressure to his enormous delts and traps every time he tried to raise up. We made him do thirty, then another twenty, then ten more for good measure. Then, Jimmy ordered him to the floor for push-ups. They went smoothly until Jimmy sat on Tyler's broad back and shoulders for the last ten. I didn't think Tyler would complete them, but he did, and I was amazed at his true strength. "You pansies gotta do better than that to get the best of me," Tyler said defiantly, though he was now breathing heavily.
"Back on the bench," I ordered. "More butterflies! With heavier dumbbells." Tyler did as told, really straining this time through a wrenching set of forty. "Now, forty more squats, holding those dumbbells above your head!" Tyler continued, but I could tell he was starting to weaken -- just a little. His body was now covered in sweat, and his little string bikini had large splotches of dark where the sweat was staining the fabric. His sex organ hung heavily between his legs, the weight of it actually forcing the waistband downward, low enough to actually expose the top hairs of his small, trimmed bush. Jimmy then said, "Back on the bench for a series of leg lifts, with us pushing down on your legs." Tyler obeyed, commenting aloud, "You're just looking for an excuse to feel my legs up, you little fairies!" "Silence!" yelled Jimmy. "Do as you are told." Tyler lay down on the bench and began to lift his legs, while Jimmy and I placed our hands on his bulging quadriceps, pushing against the direction of movement. It felt wonderful to squeeze and fondle his thighs -- to feel his powerful muscles as they worked and strained. I glanced at Tyler's crotch, expecting him to be as hard as I was, but no, he still appeared rather flaccid. Then I realized all his blood was pumping to his muscles -- there wouldn't be much extra to inflate anything else.
The muscle-bound youth struggled through the leg lifts -- then it became an endless cycle of curls, squats, crunches, flies, more crunches, more leg lifts, until I was exhausted just thinking about it. Tyler would occasionally utter some words of defiance, but they became less and less frequent as his breathing became harder. His skimpy bikini was now completely soaked, and virtually see-through. His bench work had tugged the back of the small thing down until about a third of his cute ass crack was exposed. In the front, the bikini was tugged so low we could see nearly all of the small patch of pubes he still proudly possessed. Another half-inch lower would have exposed the very root of his cock shaft.
By now, Tyler's body was red with exertion, and I knew his muscles burned and ached. Still, we had agreed at the beginning that a solid hour of "torture" was what he needed, and we still had ten minutes to go. I ordered him to the floor on his back, then told Jimmy to "fall" on top of him. Tyler would have to "bench press" Jimmy ten times. As he lowered Jimmy, their cocks would press against each other, then Tyler would strain to push Jimmy up and off himself. Push away and lower to touching, push away and lower to touching. I heard Jimmy gasping in short breaths, while Tyler labored for any breath at all. Seated on the floor next to them, I could see Jimmy's dick getting harder and harder with each contact with Tyler's slightly chubbed male organ. Tyler's upper arms were quivering with the strain, while Jimmy's cock was apparently doing likewise. All at once, at number eight, Jimmy let out a gasp and I could see his cock pumping in the tight suit -- gobs of his semen squirting through the fabric. Tyler, unaware of what was happening, lowered Jimmy again, and some of Jimmy's seed was smeared onto Tyler's bulging bikini pouch. They completed the ten presses, but Tyler remained unaware of what had transpired in Jimmy's swimsuit.
Jimmy ordered Tyler to stand and do more squats. By now, Tyler's head was sagging, his breathing shallow, but he began the squats. His hamstrings and quads were quivering and shaking -- in fact, his whole body was shaking -- as he struggled to squat and stand. More curls, and Tyler was grimacing with pain, biting his lower lip until it bled slightly. His eyes were watery, tears of exhaustion beginning to spill down his cheeks. And still he pressed on -- groaning with pain with every curl. Two minutes left, and Jimmy ordered him to do more push-ups, with me on his back. Oh God, he tried and tried to push himself up, but he simply had no strength left. He was done, his beautiful male body had finally given out, and Tyler lay on the floor sobbing with exhaustion and relief as the clock read ten-thirty.
I gently rubbed his shoulders while Tyler hoarsely whispered, "I'm so thirsty. Jimmy, could you maybe bring me some cold water?" Jimmy said, "Of course, Tyler -- I'll be glad to." He donned his pants and ran down the hall to a water fountain to fill Tyler's water bottle. As soon as he was gone, Tyler whispered to me, "Eric, I'm sorry. I should have asked you if you minded sharing me -- sharing my body - with someone else -- just for this one time." I gently ran my fingers through his short hair and said, "Just this once, Tyler, just this once." Jimmy returned then and handed the water bottle to me while he removed his jeans again. Tyler sipped thirstily at the cold liquid and weakly thanked Jimmy for it. Tyler may have forgotten there was more in store for him, but Jimmy and I hadn't. As we helped Tyler up to sit on the bed, he noticed the white splotches on the front hip of Jimmy's suit. "What happened to you?" he whispered. Jimmy blushed and said simply, "You did." Tyler smiled knowingly.
Jimmy went to my desk and pulled out the chair, then carried it to the middle of the room. Then he went to my bureau and picked up some shoelaces I'd left there. Then he looked at Tyler and said, "Come sit down in this chair. Now." At first Tyler looked confused, then he remembered -- there was more action yet to come, and his evening was only beginning. He weakly rose from the bed and staggered to the chair, then sank heavily into it. Jimmy took the first lace and began to tie Tyler's right ankle to the chair leg. Then the left ankle. Then, he firmly pulled Tyler's massive arms behind his back, while the young bodybuilder sat helplessly, his massive buffed body being manhandled by the nerdy kid from down the hall. Tyler's biceps and triceps were so huge, and so swollen from the night's exercises, that it pained him to have those oversized arms pulled so far back. He groaned audibly, so I helped Jimmy arrange his big arms so they were tied behind him, but not so painfully. If Tyler was at full strength, the laces would probably not be strong enough to restrain him, but since he'd agreed to this, I assumed he wouldn't struggle too forcefully. And besides, neither Jimmy or I had any rope anyway -- we had to make do with what we had.
The few minutes of respite had allowed the muscled freshman to regain some of his strength, some of his defiance. He was bound to the chair, wearing only a tiny, soaked string bikini. With arms behind him, his chest jutted proudly, magnificently forward. His rippled abs were rows of sweat-filled ridges as they led downward to his belly button and beyond. His legs were firmly tied to each chair leg, but his bulging calf muscles and thighs looked so powerful that I was certain he could easily free them from their lace bonds if he so desired. Then he started to taunt us.
"Well, well, now what you guys gonna do? Here I am all tied up, but still unbroken. I'm so much stronger than you two girls! Why, if I wanted to, I could just..." His words were cut short by a firm, but not painful, slap across the cheek, administered by Jimmy. "You will be silent," Jimmy stated emphatically, "and do as you are told. Your muscles will do you no good now, you pumped freak. You are at our mercy." Tyler threw his head back and glared at the two of us, wondering what would come next. Moments later, Jimmy stepped behind the chair and placed his hands on both of Tyler's shoulders, then started to softly massage the huge delts and traps, causing Ty to squirm. Jimmy began to mumble, "Yeah, Mr. Muscle Boy thinks he's so big and strong and tough. Yeah, these huge delt muscles are big -- so rounded and packed with power. Yet look, Eric, look how he shies away from my soft touch -- his big shoulders shouldn't even feel my little puny fingers, yet look how my easy touch is affecting him." Jimmy reached down along Tyler's huge chest, smacking his granite-slab pectorals -- feeling the rock-hard muscle under the taut skin, saying, "These pecs -- so fuckin' big! So huge and solid! Yet watch how my fingers can make them quiver. Jimmy reached a little farther down until he had Tyler's pointy, hard nipples between his fingers, then began to squeeze, pinch and scratch the hard nubs. Tyler's head flew back, twisting from side to side as his chest did indeed begin to quiver and shake. "No, no, not my nipples," Tyler cried out, "they're so sensitive. It's not fair -- damn you little dirty fag -- playing with my nipples like I'm some whore with tits! Get your filthy paws off my chest!"
But Jimmy only smirked, then nodded at me to come over and help. I had been mesmerized watching the scene unfold before me, wondering how one as apparently shy and inexperienced as Jimmy would even know about nipple play! I came over, and Jimmy told me to take his place, standing behind Ty and letting my hands work over his chest and nips. I began flicking the pointed nubs, then scratching them and squeezing them. Then, I'd grab the overhanging hunk of pec muscle and squeeze it hard. Meanwhile, Jimmy was now leaning in front of Ty, playfully punching his ripped abdominals, pinching them, smearing the sweat on them, jabbing their firmness, running his fingers along and between the ridges. "Yeah, keep dreamin' you little jock and Speedo sniffer," Ty said to Jimmy, "you'll never have abs like the washboard I have!" Jimmy dug his fingers into those muscles hard, causing Ty to flinch briefly. Then Ty looked up at me standing behind him, and snarled, "You too, you little guppy swim boy. You'll never be the man I am -- you don't even have a bulge in the front of your Speedo when you put it on -- ha!" I was momentarily hurt by his remark until I caught Tyler winking at me.
Tyler's arm muscles were bulged to the max -- his triceps huge and swollen. From his position, he couldn't pop and flex his biceps, but that didn't matter -- his arms were simply huge, with powerful, snake-like muscles coiled beneath the skin. Jimmy wrapped his fingers as far around Ty's upper arms as he could, squeezing and kneading the hard tendons. Tyler kept up a patter of "dirty" talk, meant to goad Jimmy onward. "Yeah, feel those big arms, nerd -- my arms are as big -- no, bigger -- than your legs! You are so puny and small next to me. Go ahead, feel those guns, little boy, feel what a man's arms are really like!" Jimmy continued squeezing and rubbing those monumental upper arms, feebly attempting to squeeze the muscles back to a normal size. But nothing could diminish the size of those power-packed arms -- Tyler's upper arms were literally as big around as Jimmy's thighs, if not bigger.
Jimmy made his small hands into little fists, and began to pound the unyielding pecs -- timidly at first, then harder and harder. Tyler scoffed at this silly attempt to beat him into submission -- "I think I feel a mosquito hitting my big, strong chest!" he sneered. And then, Jimmy went for his legs.
Jimmy knelt beside the chair and began to rub and stroke Ty's quivering calves, the muscles bulging under the skin, almost ready to pop out. And then, he moved north, going for Ty's weakest spot -- his oh-so-sensitive thighs. Tyler jumped and bucked when Jimmy first began stroking -- very, very gently -- his throbbing quadriceps. Jimmy spoke quietly, saying, "How does that feel, muscleboy? You seem to be rather sensitive here? Are you? Is this a soft spot on your otherwise hard-as-steel body? Does it arouse you, excite you when I run my fingers along your exposed thighs? What about along here -- your inner thighs? Are you sensitive here as well?" Tyler had gone from rock-hard to almost limp, reacting to the soft touch Jimmy was giving him. "Mmmm...mmm," was all Tyler could utter as the stroking continued. But while Ty's muscles had seemed to soften, there was one part of his anatomy that had become rock hard -- his cock. His thighs were an area of sexual stimulation, as I had discovered in our previous encounters. Now, Jimmy had made the same find. The small little baby-blue sting bikini was quickly being stretched as Tyler's shaft lengthened, pushing his purple mushroom head upwards as though attempting to stab through the thin fabric. With his legs tied to each chair leg, his thighs were pulled apart, allowing Jimmy to gain entry to his very manhood. And Jimmy, no longer the shy, insecure kid from down the hall, was ready to take advantage of his helpless, muscle-packed boytoy.
Watching the scene play out before me had made me completely aroused. My own dick was hard as steel, barely contained in the soft fabric of my FTL briefs, which were already soaked in front from my own sexual leakage. Now, I watched eagerly as Jimmy slowly, tentatively reached between those massive thighs and began to fondle and diddle Tyler's nutsac where it rested on the chair bottom. "No...no...don't touch me there, you little perv," yelled Tyler, trying to squirm this way and that to avoid Jimmy's grasping fingers. "You have no right to touch me there -- leave me alone or I'll...or I'll...unhh...unhh." Tyler's defiance quickly disappeared as his desire grew, his words replaced by grunts of lust and need. "There, there, muscleboy," Jimmy cooed, "I'm not hurting you, am I? A big, strong lad like yourself ---all bulging, swollen muscles and raw power -- a little tenderness here doesn't bother you, does it?" Now Jimmy began tracing his finger tips up and down the length of Tyler's eight-inch shaft -- still wrapped in the bikini - stroking teasingly along the sensitive underside while Tyler gasped for air, his head lolling backward. I looked down into his beautiful eyes, and recognized the longing there -- the need to climax, yet the desire to control his own body. Tyler smiled weakly at me, then began a new tirade at Jimmy.
"You little sick prick -- I should have known you would go for my cock -- I should... should...unhh...unhh...have known you wanted my dick for your plaything. Take your filthy hands off my sex organ -- it's not ...unhh... something for you to mess with." But Jimmy had his own retort ready. "Why, what's this? Look, Eric, there is a big drop of fluid emerging from the tip of Tyler's dick! Does little boy have to pee-pee? Oh wait, it's not pee -- let me see." Jimmy placed his index finger right into the large drop of fluid and began to smear it, swirling his finger around and around Tyler's cockhead, soaking the bikini fabric with Ty's precum. Tyler groaned again. Jimmy allowed one hand to continue lightly brushing the big boy's thighs, then poke and tease at his scrotum. Tyler was starting to sweat again, and his head thrashed from side to side as his arousal began to build. Jimmy now had Tyler right where he wanted him, aroused and helpless to protect himself.
Jimmy again started to brush his fingers up and down the exposed underside of Ty's shaft, milking drop after gooey drop of precum from the overheated bodybuilder. Jimmy smeared these drops along the shaft, making the thin cotton fabric wet and sheer. The turgid pink flesh of Tyler's cock was plainly visible through the bikini, and, where his mushroom-shaped cap pressed against the fabric, it was easy to see his piss-slit gape open again and again to release more and more drops of his sexual lubricant. To see my bodybuilder -- my Tyler -- so stimulated and so turned on -- it was simply too much for me. I shuddered once, and felt my own cock simply explode in my underwear, uselessly shooting my own seed into the dampened briefs I wore. My own grunts of pleasure attracted Jimmy's attention for a moment, and he smirked at the sight of my penis twitching and shooting in my briefs. Then, he returned his attention to Tyler. Jimmy was like a man possessed -- touching and fondling the buffed champion at will, pleasuring both himself and his prisoner. He reached into the low-cut front of Ty's bikini, tickling and tugging at the small pubic bush still crowning the cock root. He gently rubbed and teased Ty's lower abdomen, his thighs -- anyplace and everyplace sensitive or sensual.
Every muscle in Ty's body was straining and stretching -- every nerve ending had become sensitive to the touch of Jimmy's hands and fingers. Still, Tyler fought back, saying, "You freaks -- trying to get my ...unhh... big muscled body all worked up... unhh.. trying to make me come like a little boy who has no control ov...unhh... over his own body. No! No -- I won't let ...unhh... let you control my sex organ...control my ejaculation. I can resist your evil temptation!" But we all knew his resistance was futile. Poor Tyler's sexual desire was now in overdrive, and he was totally helpless to prevent what came next.
Jimmy hooked his fingers under the waistband of the tiny bikinis, and skimmed them over the protruding dick and then down, hooking them under his testicles. Now, his raw, naked cockflesh was exposed to us -- leaking its load of syrup, the shaft red and angry and throbbing and pulsing, twitching with every beat of Tyler's proud heart. And still, the precum flowed, drizzling down the length of his mighty shaft, puddling around the base, and even in the small tuft of pubes I'd allowed him to keep unshaven. "You WILL surrender your sex to me, Tyler Bradwell," Jimmy hissed. "I control your body -- all of it."
I could tell the poor boy was at the end of his endurance. His head lolled back, slowly rolling from side to side, eyes closed. He was breathing hard, panting in time to our attack on his exposed and now vulnerable body. From between his legs thrust his mighty sex stalk, towering as if reaching for the sky. His rod looked angry -- swollen almost to the point of bursting. As Jimmy continued to whale away on that thrusting shaft, it turned even redder, the large head blushing a deep shade of purple under its drizzling coat of sticky, gleaming precum. I was absolutely amazed as the fecundity of Tyler's gonads -- pumping and pumping what seemed to be an endless flow of sex syrup up and out his aching shaft. I'd never imagined one male body could produce so much pre-orgasmic fluid, but then again, I'd never imagined a teenaged male could ever possess a body as totally masculine and virile as Tyler's. The precum just flowed and seeped from his gaping piss lips, though the color was now milky white as his supercharged body began releasing his little swimmers into the mix. I bent to his ear and whispered, "Tyler, are you OK?" He opened one eye to look at me and breathlessly replied, "Oh yeah, oh yeah."
With his cock now totally exposed, Tyler was completely defenseless -- Jimmy began to rub, fondle, tease and torment the stud's sex organ at will. First he would place his fist all the way around it, jerking it hard and fast. Then, he would lightly tickle the head, smearing the leaking sex fluid here and there and everywhere. Then, he would grasp Ty's nuts in his fingers -- rolling them, feeling them, pulling on them, torturing them. Tyler was now gasping for air, his eyes again shut, his head falling from side to side, chest heaving. I knew Ty couldn't resist much longer -- no normal, healthy male could resist such a blatant, skillful manhandling of his prized possession. Jimmy grabbed the bodybuilder's hard shaft between his thumb and fingers and began the final assault on Tyler's manhood. Jerking and stroking him unmercifully, he refused to release Tyler's cock until that cock gave him something in return. Squeezing, rubbing, tormenting that aching spear, he finally forced Tyler into total submission -- with a long, almost inhuman groan, Tyler's body hardened, convulsed once, then responded in the only way it could. His teenaged cock simply erupted like a fountain of cum, shooting and spewing gobs and gobs of hot, viscous semen into the air. Jimmy and I watched in awe as Tyler sprayed his sex -- coating his chest and abs, his thighs, and Jimmy's shaking hand with what appeared to be a quart of fresh, hot teen spunk.
Tyler's emission seemed to last an eternity, though in reality it was probably no more than thirty seconds. By my count, he shot nine hefty wads of baby batter -- and the room reeked of his sex smell. At that moment, Jimmy let out a small moan of his own, and for the second time that evening, shot his own sperm into the little Speedo he still wore. As if on cue, my own cock twitched again, and released another steaming load of male seed into my sopping briefs.
I looked at Tyler -- his head had fallen forward on his chest, and his breath was raspy. Jimmy, who was also having trouble breathing, took his clean hand and gently placed it on Tyler's shoulder. "Tyler, Tyler," he called softly, "are you alright? Did I hurt you?" Tyler finally stirred, and lifted his head from his chest, smiling weakly at us. "I'm OK, I think," he responded in a quiet voice. "I just need to rest a little while. I'm...I'm just totally exhausted." Jimmy and I quickly began to untie the strapping youth, only to find the "ropes" on his arms had long ago been broken by his straining, flexing muscles. "Tyler, you weren't even tied up!" Jimmy said excitedly. "Yeah, I know. I sorta popped out of my bindings a while ago. But you guys were having so much fun, I didn't want to ruin things for you!" "You little brat!" I yelled playfully. "You'd better just be glad I didn't tell Jimmy how damn ticklish you are." "Tyler's real ticklish?" Jimmy asked, as he began to reach for the bodybuilder's tender sides. "Don't even THINK about it!" yelled the musclestud, as he jumped from the chair and dove onto his bed, trying to get into a corner where he could at least have half a chance to defend himself.
Jimmy and I made a few playful grabs at him, as he weakly fought to fend off our squirming fingers. But we both knew he was ours for the taking, and within moments we had his big but drained arms pinned to his sides. Tyler -- the big, proud bull of our campus, was as helpless as a small kitten, and we easily began to tickle and fondle his sensitive sides, while also sneaking grabs of his nuts, tits, and cock, which itself was already beginning to lengthen and harden once again. The little bikini was twisted around his thighs, making it easier for us to control his weakly thrashing legs. Tyler was now quivering beneath us, giggling and sniffling as our fingers found their marks.
But very quickly, Jimmy and I realized that our proud captive was more than just a plaything -- a giant, muscled sex toy for us to enjoy. He was human, and was at our mercy. Tyler started to beg -- yes, actually beg us to please, please let him go. He gasped that he couldn't breathe -- he couldn't swallow -- he was nearly crying for mercy, begging us not to tickle him any more, admitting his defeat and our victory. "Please, please, do...don't tickle me...I ca...can...can't breathe...Eric...please, I'm beg...begging you." I stopped immediately, as did Jimmy. With my hand still on his wrist, I could feel his pulse racing at an unbelievable speed, and I feared we had gone too far. I sat beside him and pulled his head into my lap, comforting him, as Jimmy held his right hand and said, "We won't tickle you any more, Tyler. We promise." His pulse began to slow, and the bright red color in his face began to recede.
Tyler spoke slowly, deliberately. "If I had more strength, more energy, perhaps I could endure a few minutes of tickling. But Eric," he said, looking up at me, "you know how ticklish I am -- how defenseless I am. I just can't take it tonight. I'm too weak." "Of course I remember, Ty," I answered, "and I'm sorry for pushing you too far." I continued to stroke his damp cheek, and muss his wet hair, then noticed Jimmy smiling awkwardly at us. And it was then that I realized Jimmy had come to understand the special "bond" I shared with the big bodybuilder. I smiled back at Jimmy and nodded my head.
"I always wondered if there was something more than friendship between you two," Jimmy said quietly. "Now I know, and I'm so glad for you both." This last statement took me a little by surprise, and I said, "But Jimmy, I've seen the way you look at Tyler -- the way you always try to please him. I thought YOU had special feelings for him?" Jimmy looked us both in the eyes and said, "Oh, I do -- I mean, like ninety-five percent of the girls on this campus, and a fair number of the guys -- including me -- we all find this big lug to be irresistibly cute and sexy and, well, damn hot! But I've also seen the way you two look at each other, finish each other's thoughts. I've guessed for awhile I was on the outside looking in. I'm just glad you two shared this night with me. I'm honored, really. But to be truthful, I've had my eye on someone else as maybe that `special someone' for me." "Who?" Tyler and I both blurted out simultaneously. "Well, um, I don't think I should say," Jimmy said almost bashfully, his eyes now looking toward the floor. "Is it someone either of us knows?" I asked. "Uh, well, he's kinda on your team, Eric." My mind raced, picturing my teammates, then seeing Jimmy in the corner where he'd wanted to change out of his Speedo alone before Ty and I made him join us. In the corner -- where Timmy, the bronzed Aussie lifesaver kept his locker and always changed. "Is it Timmy?" I shouted on a hunch. Jimmy just smiled shyly and looked toward the window, and the dark night beyond. "But Jimmy," I persisted, "I'm not sure Timmy is even into guys -- he may have a girlfriend for all I know, but he never seems to say or do anything to give a clue, one way or the other." "Yeah," said Jimmy, "he's a real mystery man. But I can dream, can't I?" I couldn't argue with that. Sometimes, as I well knew, dreams really do come true.