Disclaimer: This story is a fantasy involving power imbalance expressed
through consensual sexual activity between adult men. Humiliation and body
worship are main elements of this story. Stop reading now if this content
is offensive to you.
-----
Begging a Bodybuilder - Part
Three
Matthew roughly pushed Patrick away with his foot. He turned and
sat on the couch, legs spread wide. "Okay, you puny fag, on your knees
between my feet and lick my thighs."
Patrick complied with instant
obedience. This man was allowing him to do something he'd craved for so
long. He was determined not to mess up. He arced his tongue in long
swabs from the thick teardrop of the bodybuilder's lower quads all the way up to
his briefs. His lips tickled along every striation, tracing out a path of
sensual friction for his master.
"That's it. Lick me. Taste
me. Such a good little slave." Matthew groaned as tension left his
body. This submissive man was quickly becoming his favorite plaything, an
object with expert talents at the sensual art of worship. His brain swam
in a rising pool of pleasure. He grasped a large handful of hair on the
back of Patrick's head and mashed his face against the hard flesh. Muffled
moans escaped from Patrick's throat as he continued to wash the bodybuilder's
legs for the next several minutes.
"What are you thinking about, little
man? My power? How nice I am to let you worship my body? What
I might make you do next? Are you frightened of me, you pathetic little
queer? Answer me, boy."
Patrick looked up into the probing eyes of
his superior. The stud appeared to be enjoying this immensely, sporting a
pleased half-grin. His demeanor was calm and calculated. Patrick
replied honestly: "I'm not thinking at all, but I am feeling intense
gratitude."
Matthew contemplated the response for a moment, and nodded.
He was pleased. He said, "Gratitude...I like that." His
pleasant look passed and he commanded, "Now, climb up on my legs and play with
my pecs."
Matthew interlocked his fingers behind his neck and thrust his
large chest forward. He closed his eyes as he prepared for the sensual
onslaught. His chest was very sensitive, especially when pumped up to its
current proportions. Small hands gripped his massive pectoral muscles.
His big slabs were squeezed and caressed, pressed and prodded, and
manipulated with an urgency that betrayed Patrick's lust. The little palms
heaved them upward, testing their weight. Patrick let them fall heavily,
enjoying the way they shuddered. Patrick repeated the process over and
over, timing his manipulations to accent the rise and fall of the aroused
muscleman's deep breathing. The barest sheen of perspiration began to form
on the skin of the heaving body.
For Matthew, the sexual thrill of being
objectified as nothing more than a hulking mass of muscle for the lust of
another man brought him ever closer to a complete state of sexual bliss.
The squeezing and the light scraping of fingernails was
beautifully erotic on his flesh. Patrick's fingers were clutching and
groping the chest, kneading and satisfying.
Matthew smiled as he looked
down at the smaller man's face. Patrick's intense concentration showed his
determination to please his musclestud. The small frame and slender
musculature underscored his vulnerability, which Matthew found erotic.
Matthew could break him like a pencil. He reached down with both
hands and effortlessly ripped Patrick's briefs from his skinny hips, throwing
them to the floor. Patrick moaned into the flesh of Matthew's big body as
the callused hands of the bodybuilder aggressively groped his
nakedness.
Patrick had not yet attended to every detail of Matthew's
wide, smooth chest: Matthew's big nipples were aching to be licked. His
tits were blood-engorged pebbles, erect and begging for attention. Patrick
leaned in and extended his tongue. Space barely separated tongue and
nipple. Wickedly, Patrick paused, looked up doe-eyed into Matthew's face,
and waited.
"You little shit! Lick me!" Matthew croaked
desperately. Patrick flushed with pleasure, pleased with his small
victory. He used his lips first, pulling tenderly at the sensitive nubs.
Then, he lightly nipped them, sending shocks to the overloaded brain of
the muscleman.
"Oh, you cunt! Keep that up. That's so
fucking good!" Matthew's cock responded anew to the stimulation of his
nipples. His briefs tented obscenely as his dick inflated to its full
size. Matthew groaned and began to involuntarily gyrate his hips in a slow
rhythmic motion, giving Patrick a sensual ride as his bare bum rested on the
bodybuilder's upper thighs. The big man was on the verge of eruption.
He abruptly pushed Patrick away from his chest, gripping the small body
vice-like as he struggled to stave off his impending orgasm. Not
yet.
Matthew instructed Patrick to return to the floor, his back
against the couch. As Patrick sat there waiting, Matthew recovered, got
up, and maneuvered his hot body over to the other side of the room in front of
weight bench. "If you could watch me do one exercise, what would it be?
I know you want to see me use this body you little queer. Presses?
Curls? Shrugs?"
"Squats," challenged Patrick. "Deep
ones."
Matthew was pleased. He liked fags paying attention to his
big ass. Somehow it seemed the proper place for them to focus. He
set the bar, added the weights, and obediently began a set of deep squats as Patrick had requested. He could
feel Patrick's eyes burning into his meaty butt. His briefs hitched up
into the deep crack of his ass, and he pounded out an explosive set of twelve
reps, massive thighs straining with each rep. He returned the bar to the
rack with a clattering of metal on metal. He turned around to face
Patrick, chest heaving from the exertion.
"Add two plates and do another
set of eight," Patrick spoke up. His voice surprised both of them.
Emboldened by the big man's obedience to his first instructions, Patrick
pressed him further: "And this time, do them
naked."
Patrick's orders simply fed Matthew's inflated ego. These
instructions confirmed the guy wanted to feast his eyes on every last inch.
If this queer boy needed to see all his naked muscles flexing, how could
he blame him? He was a fucking stud by any standards, and he knew
it.
But Matthew would tease his little victim first. "You don't
deserve...to see my cock," he panted. "You know better than...to ask for
that, Patrick. I gave you a gift. I let you watch me squat, ...and
now you're asking for more?" The bodybuilder folded his big arms across
his heaving chest and smiled, waiting for Patrick to figure out what he needed
to do. It didn't take long.
"Please, Matthew. I really need
to see your cock. I want to worship it. I want to suck it and stroke
it and kiss it and lick it. For as long as you tell me to. I promise
I'll make you feel good! I promise to behave and do anything you say.
Please, just use me for the pleasure of your cock. I want to be a
slave to your enormous body. Please, I'm begging you!"
"That's a
good start," Matthew said, "but I need more from you than that."
Patrick
continued: "You goddamn fucking stud! You're an absolute god of
muscle! I want to obey the power of your muscles, the power of your body,
the power of your cock. Be my master. Control me with your fucking
hot body. Your bulging muscles are so big, so beautiful..." Patrick
fought desperately for words to heap praise onto this man, but his rant sounded
so inadequate. He couldn't think what else to say. Words were
insufficient. He wanted to use his tongue in other ways to demonstrate his
devotion to this man.
"Describe your own body for me,
Patrick."
Patrick was momentarily taken aback. He hesitated, then
realized what Matthew wanted. Shame rose in his cheeks once again.
Feeling debased for the pleasure of this man made him so hot, but to have
to say it out loud - that was exceedingly humiliating. He struggled as he
thought how to verbalize his own inadequacies.
"I'm - I'm skinny,"
Patrick started. Matthew stood large and imposing, still positioned by the
squat rack, mammoth arms still folded across his chest. He was smiling.
He looked so hot, so superior, so smug.
"Go on."
"I'm
pathetic. My muscles are puny. I'm a fucking weakling.
I'm...I'm a wimp compared to you."
Matthew nodded encouragingly.
"And...?"
"And...I'm a puny, worthless, piece of crap that...that
doesn't deserve to even look at you, to even...to even taste your shit or drink
your piss!" Patrick's face flushed a deep red, and hot tears of frustration
and desire rose to the brink of his lower eyelids. Where the fuck did those
words come from? Patrick was thoroughly embarassed. Matthew was
thoroughly pleased. Patrick felt a weight lift from his shoulders.
He'd given all he had, and somehow the admission of his worthlessness made
him feel a sense of freedom.
Patrick continued to plead: "I'm so queer
for your body, Matthew. "Please make me behave, make me obey you and
please you. Please, please, please, let me please
you."
Matthew was finally satisfied. The puny bitch deserved
something for his humiliation.
Matthew removed his red briefs, and his
enormous prick sprang up, hard and throbbing. Patrick's eyes bugged out.
Such a beautiful cock attached to such a beautiful body! Patrick's
body ached with longing. He watched as Matthew turned away from him and
prepared for his next set.
Matthew paused. "Like my ass?" he asked
over his shoulder.
Patrick couldn't respond. He sat almost as
though in a trance as his eyes devoured the naked muscularity of Matthew's
entire body. Head to toe, the man was perfect as a statue, every muscle
defined and hard.
Matthew's wide body pressed up and down. His back
appeared three times the width of his narrow waist. His buttocks bulged
obscenely on his narrow hips. His thighs flared outward dramatically to
nearly the width of his waist, contrasted by the narrow joints of his knees.
Matthew did eight reps as Patrick had asked. The reps
served to pump up his ass muscles even more. They rode full and round on
his impressive frame, jutting beautifully. He swaggered over to where
Patrick was sitting on the floor. The muscleman's hips were rocking as his
pumped legs paraded his massive frame across the room. He sauntered up to
Patrick, turned around, and stood with his ass right in Patrick's
face.
"I said, 'Like my ass?'" the bodybuilder repeated cockily. Patrick
was in heaven. A freshly pumped bubble-butt, solid and gorgeous, was there
for the worshipping. The massive globes of forbidden flesh waited, ready
to be plucked and devoured.
"They're gorgeous, sir." Patrick leaned in, taking a deep sniff of the fine ass,
noting the soapy clean scent mixed with the heady aroma of warm sweat. He waited for the invitation to indulge.
"Then
eat, you faggot."
Easier said than done. More full and
rounded glutes Patrick had never seen. The turgid, pale globes pressed
firmly together, denying Patrick's first attempts to part them. He changed
his grip for better purchase and again tried to separate them, wanting to see
deep into the crack of this musclegod's most intimate place.
"Fuck you're
slow!" roared Matthew. "Let me help you out." With that he bent
slightly at the waist and backed up, forcing Patrick's head back against the arm
of the couch. His butt pressed, mushing Patrick's face squarely into his
butt crack. Patrick felt surrounded by flesh. He had the image of
his whole head being swallowed up by the brawny butt flesh, happily drowning in
a sea of ass.
"Mmmph! Pffmm!" Patrick's muffled voice sounded
surprised with only a touch of panic. Matthew was so turned on. He
was going to use this puny guy's talents to the max.
"I said eat!"
The first swabs of Patrick's tongue on his asshole sent shivers throughout
his beefy body. The licking turned to probing, and finally sucking.
"Yeah, suck on my asshole, you... you asshole!" At Matthew's words, the
ridiculous cliche 'You are what you eat' flashed through Patrick's mind.
If he'd been in any position to laugh, he would've done
so.
Matthew's rant continued: "That's it. Oh, god! That's
sooo good! Eat my ass. Worship me, you goddamn faggot." The
words were an aphrodisiac to Patrick's brain. He loved the crudeness and
redoubled his efforts to please the man.
The bodybuilder watched himself
in the mirror, Patrick's tiny form furiously feeding at his ass. The
sensations were incredible. Waves of stimulation coursed through his body.
He raised his big arms and posed. This time the muscular display was
just for himself. Rounded and full and sexy, his muscled body was the
proper place for this faggot's worship. Geez, I'm so fucking
hot!
Munching and slurping, Patrick grasped the bodybuilder's hips
for purchase as he pulled the man back even harder onto his smothered face.
This is what Patrick deserved. He had been a good boy pleasing his
master and deserved this reward. At the same time, his puny body and
complete inferiority to the man he worshipped compelled him to assist in his own
humiliation, to service the most disgusting place of a man: his shithole.
Indeed, this is what Patrick deserved.
A little downward pressure
from Matthew's hips sent Patrick slipping down all the way to the floor.
He lay there on his back, looking up at the huge creamy ass hovering over
him. "I need to keep sucking your asshole, sir. Please let me suck
you more! Your bodybuilder asshole. I've fantasized about your ass
for months. Please don't deny me the honor of sucking
it."
Matthew gave in to the pleading, squatting his butt down onto the
face of his worshipper. Patrick lapped happily. Matthew occasionally
lowered his butt to cut off Patrick's air for awhile. He enjoyed the
gasping of the little man as he released him from the smothering. He was
controlling the very life of this pathetic wimp.
It came time for Matthew
to attend to the needs of his cock. The foreplay had made his erection
painfully large. His cock was throbbing excitedly, ready to explode at the
least stimulation. He turned and collected Patrick from the floor,
hoisting him playfully into the air above his head, and pumping the man up and
down in a series of shoulder presses. "You dumbbell," snorted Matthew,
pleased at his little pun, "I'm going to fuck you."
Matthew carried
Patrick into the bedroom. The double bed seemed almost too small for
Matthew alone, let alone both of them. "I like your little body. It
makes me feel incredibly huge," Matthew admitted. He knew Patrick's little
asshole would be tight. He thought of invading the helpless man, of making
him simply an appendage to his own enormous mass, and his cock leaped.
He
placed Patrick face down on the bed and squeezed both ass cheeks in a single
hand. Patrick wiggled his butt seductively. "Please, sir.
Please fuck me." More begging, without even being told!
Matthew was pleased. The boy was naturally submissive to muscle.
Retrieving some lube, Matthew slathered it liberally on his cock until it
glistened. His balls tightened at the stimulation, ready to eject their
contents. Matthew managed to hold off.
Patrick pleaded: "Fuck my
ass. I need to feel your cock in me. Please fuck me good.
Please split me open. I want to give you pleasure,
sir."
Matthew mounted the quivering body, covering the insignificant size
completely. He used his massive arms to prevent himself from completely
crushing Patrick, but even so, the smaller man struggled for air at the weight
of Matthew's overdeveloped build.
The first pressure on his ass was
intense. "Oh god. So huge! I don't
know..."
"Shut up," Matthew commanded. "Just take it."
Matthew's cock ached, and he submitted to its demands for stimulation.
"Okay, you fucking pervert, get ready for a real fuck." Matthew
loved talking dirty, and no more so than when in the throes of
ecstasy.
"You little useless shit. You deserve a good fucking,
don't you? Coming up here to my apartment and turning me on with your
pathetic worship. Your begging, your pleading. You've got me so
fucking hot I can't hold back. If this fuck hurts, it's your own fucking
fault. You think you can worship me and not suffer for the privilege?
You'll be begging for me to stop before this is through, I tell
you."
Patrick craved the thought of Matt's big cock up his ass, and he
resolved right then not to complain no matter how much it hurt. That was
part of his worship, the acceptance of whatever punishment the god decided to
bestow on his pathetic little life. He expertly relaxed his ass, allowing
the huge invader to enter. He was stretched to the limit; the cock was
powerfully huge.
"Oh! Oh!" Patrick involuntarily uttered.
"Hurt me. Make me feel it. Use me. Dump your cum in my
ass you big stupid fucker!"
Matthew's hips rocked in a steady rhythmn,
his butt clenched, his breathing accelerated. The motion of Matthew's hips
was accompanied by a "Please! please! please!" with every thrust. The
little guy was still begging for his body! He seductively whispered in
Patrick's ear: "I AM enormous! I AM a musclegod. Beg me. Need
me. Worship me, you freak."
"I'm going to fill you up," he finally
panted. "Get ready for my cum!" Patrick felt completely helpless,
completely used, and completely satisfied. He was fulfilling this man's
need to get off, and he was the receptacle. At this moment, he was the
most important object in this musclestud's life. His ass was the purpose
of the big man's existence.
The rhythmic friction of Matthew's cock
slicing in and out of the tight ass under him caused his nuts to contract.
The squeezing of his penis with each thrust into the tight, smooth,
deliciously hot shitter was sending tingling sensations to the most primitive
parts of his brain. He felt like an animal.
That familiar
feeling of constriction at the base of his balls increased to a horrible state
of tension. He stopped his rocking and the onslaught onto the ass below
him. His whole body went rigid, the naked muscles frozen in place.
For several seconds Matthew's flexed body was immobilized by the impending
eruption, every bulging muscle tight with anticipation. The room was
silent and still. Everything seemed suspended.
The fluid in
Matthew's balls gathered with incredible force. He was conscious of
nothing but the sense of being huge, of conquering a worthy subject, of forcing
his seed upon another. "Ah, ah, ah..." escaped from his throat.
Finally, Matthew threw his head back and roared, "Take it, you cunt!"
Semen exploded into Patrick's ass, a long, steady hot stream followed by
shot after shot after shot. The filling of Patrick's ass was the final act
of domination. The bodybuilder had exerted his power completely. He
had conquered.
Patrick's body was shoved ruthlessly toward the headboard
as Matthew finished off his orgasm, his hips pummeling the man with a few last
forceful thrusts into the limp form. Finally satisfied, and completely
drained, Matthew rolled off and laughed with involuntary release. "Such a
tight hole, aren't you? That was the ultimate fuck."
A while later,
Matthew, still buzzed from the sex, offered, "Okay. We both know you don't
deserve shit," he grinned and winked, "but how do you want to get
off?"
Patrick was ready. "Tease me. Make me beg. I want
you to put on your tight jean shorts, and flex and pose for me while I jerk
myself off. I want to watch you feel up your own beautiful
body."
"But how do you know I've got jean..." Matthew hesitated.
"Oh yes," he said, "you're my little stalker. Maybe you'd like some
more pictures for that collection of yours?"
Matthew loved having his
picture taken. He was totally into the idea of posing for his new little
submissive friend and his camera. He had found at last someone compatible
to satisfy his most primitive instincts to perform, dominate, humiliate, and
demand worship. But of course, Matthew wasn't quite ready to give little
Patrick the chance for some pictures. He sensed he could get even more
from this submissive little man. He would make Patrick work for the
privilege of worship, for the privilege of some photos. He'd push Patrick
to the very edge, wringing out every shred of obedience the little man could
give.
Matthew's grin transformed into a cruel smirk, a wicked glint in his eye. "Unfortunately, you'll have to wait for another time, Patrick. I'm finished with you for tonight. It's time for you to go home." No amount of begging would help Patrick this time.
As Patrick dressed, he knew
he was defeated. Matthew called the shots. If he ever hoped to
please Matthew again, he'd better obey. But deep down, there was something
delicious about being denied his orgasm. Somehow it was simply another act
of worship.
END OF PART THREE
This was originally planned as the final part. Some readers have sent notes of encouragement, so I've decided to write a few more chapters. Thanks for the appreciative comments!
tpcteacher@yahoo.com