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 Seven
As Patrick ascended the stairs, he weighed his decision to confront Matthew. If he said nothing, he would never get the chance to dominate the bodybuilder or have the pleasure of opening Matthew's mind to new possibilities. Matthew was completely ignorant of his own submissive nature, unaware that he was really just a muscular pussy -- Patrick was sure of that. Alternatively, if Patrick spoke to Matthew, explaining that the big man's behavior proved his latent submissiveness, then Patrick could help Matthew face his newly discovered need to please and expand their relationship to meet more needs, particularly the newfound dominant streak Patrick had discovered in himself.
Matthew was on his cell phone as he answered Patrick's knock at the door. He waved in the smaller man, who sat on the couch waiting for the call to finish. As he sat there, Patrick was getting impatient that Matthew wasn't getting off the phone. It was obvious he was talking to his girlfriend. Patrick endured the wait for as long as he could. He thought, "Time to start acting like the master around here. Time for Matthew to start showing me some respect."
"GET OFF THE PHONE, MATTHEW!" Patrick shouted, his voice cracking a little. The bodybuilder stopped talking, eyes wide with amazement.
"What the fuck...?" He cut his conversation short with Samantha and hung up the phone. "What's going on, Patrick?" He sounded almost concerned. "Where's the laundry?"
"I won't be doing your laundry anymore, Matthew. In fact, it's time you did mine." Patrick's thin voice sounded a higher pitch than he wanted. "You see, Matthew, I'm calling your bluff."
Matthew looked intrigued. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked.
"You're not really a dominant guy. That's what I'm talking about. I've noticed that you only make me do things that you know I already want to do. You're really just trying to please me. When you give me orders, you're doing it because you get satisfaction from meeting my needs."
Matthew dropped to the loveseat where Patrick had sat on that first visit to his apartment, when the lawyer had first submitted to the bodybuilder's demands.
"I'm submissive? I want to please you? Is that what you're saying?"
Patrick became bolder. "You bet, big boy. You spanked me because I chose to get spanked -- you knew I wanted it. You made me crawl to you in the bedroom, but only because I said I would crawl -- you knew I wanted that too. You make me suck your cock because I'm gay and you know I like to do that. You've been meeting my needs all along, Matthew, because you're really a pleaser, and you want to please me. And that's going to continue. In fact, you're going to stand up and strip off your shirt for me right now! Do it!"
Matthew stood up. He maneuvered his hulking mass over to stand directly in front of Patrick. The little man was totally turned on by Matthew's obedience. He was about to order this bodybuilder around, boss his big body into doing all sorts of degrading acts. Matthew would be his doggy, his slave, his stripper. He'd make Matthew fuck him every day and break up with Samantha. Patrick's mind was wild with the possibilities.
"Strip, you muscle freak! I said strip!" Patrick stood up facing Matthew, just inches from the mountainous man. He pointed his finger at Matthew. "Give in, boy. It might be hard for you, but give in to your submissive needs. Obey me and you'll find out how good it feels to be honest with yourself."
Matthew smirked, then threw back his head and laughed outright. "Good god! You're fucking crazy! You are absolutely fucking delusional! You think I'm submissive? You think I'm going to obey you?" He effortlessly shoved Patrick backward, and the tiny frame folded up onto the couch. "Look, little man. I only make you do things that you want to do because I don't want you running out the door. I don't want to scare you off. If I'm going to get what I want, which is to dominate your little ass, you've got to be here, don't you?"
Patrick looked bewildered. Matthew continued: "You're already submitting more and more to me each time, Patrick. You worshipped me and begged me, and then you crawled to me. You've even started to do chores for me. I'll keep taking you further and further, Patrick. Before you know it, you'll be begging to do things you find repulsive right now. But you'll crave it. You'll beg to do disgusting things, Patrick. Things far worse than you're doing now."
Patrick looked uneasy. The bodybuilder went on: "You can trust me, Patrick. You won't be doing things for me that you don't want to do. I'll always make you want it before I make you do it. You're a valuable resource for me, Patrick. You're very submissive. Very submissive. That's rare. I saw it in you from the beginning. I'm a dominant man, and I'm exploiting that resource in you. I'm tapping your submissiveness for my own purposes. I'm using you, Patrick. Get it? Because you happen to like it is only important to me because it makes you stay.
I could get incriminating evidence on you Patrick. I could video you groveling. I could get pictures of you sucking my cock. Your career would be over if I did that and went public with them. But that's not my style, little man. You see, I want you to be running back to my body because you can't fucking get enough of it, not because I've got a blackmail video. I won't chain you to me, Patrick. You will chain yourself to me. You'll keep coming back to this incredible body because you can't get enough of it, because you're addicted to my power, my muscles, my commanding attitude, which you absolutely crave. So...you can walk away whenever you want. But of course, you'll be walking away from this..." Matthew stripped off his shirt and flexed his pecs and shoulders powerfully. "Think you can walk away from me? I won't stop you. Go ahead. Walk out the door, Patrick. There's no incriminating video. You're completely free to go."
Patrick felt the conversation had gone all wrong. He felt he'd walked off a cliff and fallen a long, long way down. He felt crushed, his plans and dreams of becoming a real man dashed to bits. Matthew was really not submissive after all? Or did Matthew just not want to admit his latent feelings? Patrick couldn't think, and the flexing, bulging muscles towering over him didn't help his concentration at all.
Matthew struck a different pose, forcing his bicep muscles right into Patrick's face. "I thought so," he said, noting how transfixed Patrick was, how the greedy eyes devoured his physique. "I've got powerful muscles, but the power isn't just in physical force, the power is in your intense desire to submit to me. My muscles aren't even touching you, but you still can't walk away from them. You're as helpless as if I had you in a full nelson, or in a cage for that matter."
"It's interesting that you tried to give me orders, Patrick. Think you've got a bit of a dominant streak in you, do you? Maybe...but you won't exercise that dominant streak with me. Find yourself some muscle faggot to boss around, but forget about trying to tell me what to do. But here's another possibility, pussy boy: you're merely uncomfortable that I'm pushing your boundaries, and you're rebelling a little. Part of you resents doing my chores. You're a little angry about that, and even more angry that you're allowing yourself to submit to doing them. Of course you want to tell me what to do! But that's not being dominant, my little man. You've deluded yourself. I think you're just a big-time wimp reacting to how I'm manipulating your compliance."
"Think about what you want to do, Patrick. Decide how big your need to submit really is. Maybe take a little walk downstairs and finish my laundry. If you don't return, I'll have my answer."
As Patrick unloaded the clothes from the dryers, he fought with himself. His whole fantasy of dominating Matthew had been a sham. Or had it? It was definitely erotic. Did he have a dominant streak or not? Should he find a submissive muscle guy to boss around? It didn't seem that could happen with Matthew as he had hoped. "Should I go back upstairs?" he muttered. Matthew's insight into his very soul had been humiliating. He couldn't hide from this man. He felt exposed and vulnerable. Matthew had said that Patrick would always want to do what Matthew was making him do. So far, that had been true. But should Patrick allow himself to desire things that now seemed repulsive? What could those things be? Patrick felt uncomfortable.
Patrick thought about the smooth muscles, the dominant way Matthew spoke to him, the beauty of the bodybuilder's face, the erotic way he walked, and finally the ass and cock that made his knees weaken and buckle, dropping his body to the ground in worship. Patrick picked up the laundry and trudged back upstairs.
Matthew smiled as Patrick reentered the apartment. He knew the man would return. He was such a pussy.
"Here's the deal," Patrick said as he set the laundry down. "You said I could trust you. Can I really?"
"Sure," Matthew replied with a grin. "You can trust me."
"Well, I'm vulnerable. I believe you've got the power to make me start wanting things that will really not be good for me. I want to set some ground rules. I want you to promise that you'll never make me want to do certain things, like quit my job, or tell my family about what I do for you. I really do want to be submissive to you, Matthew, but I don't want you to make me ruin my life. I don't want to have long term regrets. I'm scared of what you might make me do."
"I'll make a list of things that you must promise you'll never make me want, and if you agree to them, I'll stay. If not, you'll lose your precious resource. You'll not have access to this talented tongue again." Patrick smiled at his own attempt at arrogance.
Matthew was pleased that he scared the little man. "It's a deal," he said, still smirking. "You see, it's easy for me to agree not to ruin your pathetic little life, Patrick. Your submissiveness is my resource to exploit, and like any resource, I've got to protect it. If I wreck your life, I lose my pussyman who gives me what I want. And don't worry, I won't make you lose your job; your income is useful to me. But know this, little man, your boundaries will be pushed to the limits. You will crave to worship me in ways you've never dreamed about." Matthew unzipped his pants. "In the meantime, all this talk about exploiting you has made me horny, and I'm going to fuck you. I know that won't be on your list." Matthew's pants fell to the floor and his big prick sprang up, slapping his abs. The thick cock made Patrick drool, and he was compelled to sink to his knees.
* * *
Months later, Patrick was again up in Matthew's apartment. As Patrick looked at the stud, he knew that he would always be submissive to Matthew, but he also felt that would love to dominate a big, muscular guy. He'd love to boss around someone twice his size, to take revenge for all those times when he was overlooked and the jocks got all the attention. He decided that he must find another bodybuilder, a totally submissive pussy to be his slave. He needed a plan to find one.
Meanwhile, Matthew was still giving the orders. As Patrick watched, Matthew began one of his self-indulgent rants: "I'm a fucking god, Patrick. I am enormous! Love my muscles? My big hulking body?" He kissed his huge biceps, licking and slobbering on them until they were slick with a viscous sheen. He rubbed them over his face. He raised them in an imposing, impressive display of arrogance, a sneer on his face.
"Such a hot body...my muscles deserve your worship, Patrick, you disgusting little slave. You will obey me." Patrick's obedience was more fervent than ever. His growing trust of the big man made him want to show even more how much he appreciated the beautiful body, how eager he was to defile himself.
Matthew had grown even larger over the months, his body taking on a more symmetrically balanced form as he concentrated on the body parts that required special attention. Patrick's continuous cooking and packing of lunches for him helped him stick to his nutrition plan. Patrick was acutely aware that his submissiveness was helping increase the size and power of the big man's body, and it turned him on fiercely. He begged for the opportunity to clean, to shop for clothes, to do anything that freed up time for Matthew to increase his workout time. The bodybuilder could never be big enough for Patrick's intense cravings. The lust of both men -- one for dominance, one for submission -- propelled their symbiotic connection ever forward.
Matthew was naked apart from a thong, his beautiful white body darkened from the new summer's sun. He came at Patrick quickly, lifting the little body from the couch like a rag doll. He held Patrick at arms length in front of him, huge hands gripping the tiny torso firmly. He raised and lowered the weakling repeatedly, blasting out a set of 10 front raises, his broad shoulders bunching with each movement like living bowling balls under his skin. The bodybuilder then lay down on the floor on his back and proceeded to bench press Patrick, corded triceps and protruding pectorals flexing as he pressed the man up and down. He stood, slung Patrick across his shoulders, and effortlessly performed a set of twenty-five squats, his huge thighs pumping up to unbelievable proportions. It aroused Patrick to know that his little body was helping build the mass of the bodybuilder.
"Get on my back," Matthew commanded as he lay face down on the floor. Matthew completed a set of pushups, giving Patrick a ride on the back of his wide frame. Matthew then instructed Patrick to lay face up on the floor. Matthew covered him, positioning his crotch right above Patrick's face. Matthew completed another set of pushups, his thong-covered cock mashing down onto Patrick's puckered mouth with each rep. With each pushup Patrick kissed the full pouch, relishing the fact that his kisses were controlled by Matthew's movements.
"Time for some serious begging, Patrick," Matthew declared as he rolled off his little servant.
Patrick was ordered to lie on the bench, and Matthew squatted over him, positioning his ass a few inches above Patrick's face. "Like that ass, little man? You wish you had an ass like me? Yeah, you want a big muscular butt, one that turns everybody on, one that people stare at and drool over. A tight ass in a tight thong...is there anything a cocksucking fag like you wants more? Worship my ass, Patrick. Stick your face in there and breathe deep...inhale the smell of a real man."
Matthew lowered his hips, and Patrick thrust his face into the crack of the bodybuilder's masculine ass.
"Intoxicating, isn't it? Your puny little face in my bodybuilder ass. Feel helpless? Feel like the humble servant you are? Please my big ass, you faggot. You're so queer for my ass that you can hardly control yourself. Well, weakling, kiss me. Yeah...use your lips, little man. Use your lips to kiss my ass, the ass of your dominant master. It's where your fucking mouth should be, right between my big muscular cheeks.
"Pull my thong down with your teeth." Patrick struggled with this latest command, but he was determined to please his muscular stud. His teeth gripped and lost the stringy cloth several times before he successfully dragged the strap down over the bulging glutei. The thong still covered his master's cock, but the big rear was fully exposed. Patrick again thrust his face between the big man's asscheeks, enjoying full access without the thong's impedance.
"Good boy. Now make love to my asshole."
Patrick slurped and munched and licked and tongued and nipped and nibbled. Matthew groaned with the sensations, his lust rising and his eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Worship my asshole, you faggot. Yeah, lick my shithole. How disgusting, how low you are, you worthless slave, craving to clean a shithole with your mouth."
Patrick's tongue thrusted and probed and speared. Matthew settled his ass more firmly down onto the face of his little victim, smothering him in the ass flesh, feeling the little man struggle to please the hole, and then the frantic struggle for air. When Matthew released him, Patrick gasped and choked, finally regaining his breath after a minute. "Please smother me again, sir," he pleaded.
Matthew's ass descended again, his muscular globes pressing firmly against the bones in Patrick's face, forcing the head harder into the bench padding. "How long can you keep this up, little man? I wonder what the record is for ass worship? Think you can beat it?
Patrick renewed his efforts to please. His hands gripped the narrow hips and tried to pull the massive bodybuilder's midsection even harder onto his eager lips and tongue. Matthew let more of his massive weight rest on the submissive man's head, getting off on the notion that he was quite able to crush the head with his big ass. He relished the waves of pleasure radiating from his hole.
Patrick sucked the asshole as hard as he could, his cheeks caving inward. The harder he sucked, the more debased he felt. He felt wicked, disgusting, craving the participation in his own humiliation. His satisfaction was all-consuming as he considered the power of his master, how a little man was praising a big one.
"Eat my ass, boy. Eat my fucking hot ass. You know how lucky you are? How many fags would die just to eat me?" Patrick ran his tongue around the tight ring of muscle, enjoying its taste. "I am a goddamn stud, muscular perfection, a masterpiece of sculpted flesh, and you are simply an appendage to me...a little leach that I occasionally entertain when I feel charitable. God knows you don't deserve even the crap from my ass."
Patrick felt lightheaded as the muscleman's ass deprived him of oxygen again and again. He gasped, then recovered, and gasped for air again. He loved how the man's ass controlled his breathing, deciding for him when he could get air and when he must wait. He probed his tongue as deeply as he could, knowing this is would be the closest to fucking this straight stud he would ever be allowed to get.
Finally, Matthew rose from the bench, stripped off his thong, and turned to face the other way. He again straddled Patrick's face, but this time it was Matthew's huge balls that hung for worship. "Bull balls," thought Patrick. "Beautiful."
"Beg for balls, Patrick. You know you crave them."
Patrick wasted no time. "Your big balls are so hot, sir. Please let me wash them with my tongue. Please let me worship them and make them feel wonderful. I will obey your balls, sir, whatever they command me to do."
Matthew was amused. What would his balls demand of Patrick? He lowered them onto the waiting face and they covered eyes and nose. Patrick loved Matthew's balls. He knew that just inside there was a load of straight stud juice, thick milky cream that had the power to impregnate. He imagined a future where Matthew was the father of several grown boys -- boys spawned from the very balls resting on his face, the very nuts he desperately craved. He imagined himself as the personal servant to all of them. He would service the whole clan, a slave to an entire family of muscular, dominant men. Matthew's wife wouldn't have to lift a finger, for Patrick would beg to do all the work. He'd beg for the boys to use him, to defile him, just as their father used him. Matthew's sons would abuse him, taking their turns fucking him with their developed, masculine, young bodies. Patrick would be instructed to wash them, lathering them up in the shower, cleaning every inch of their physiques. He'd shop for them, buying expensive designer clothes with his own money, tight clothes to show off their hard work in the gym. He beg to shine their shoes with his tongue. He'd beg...
"Pay attention, you scum," Matthew interrupted. "I said take them into your cocksucking mouth."
Patrick tried to obey, but could take only part of each at a time. He sucked them, breathing through his nose to stay alive. The big, snakelike cock followed the curve of his forehead and scalp, the cockhead resting on the bench behind him.
Matthew felt so potent, so virile, so masculine. His own personal faggot attended to the needs of his scrotum. His little queer slaveboy, so infatuated with his big balls that he would do anything to get his tongue on them. Patrick's desperation to please and serve him made Matthew feel kingly, a god who commanded frail mortals. It made him want to humiliate Patrick and dominate him even more.
It was time for the ultimate act of domination. He would own his slaveboy's ass with his cock. He would fuck the little man, making him cry out his allegiance, profess his profound need to serve the enormous cock with his tight little asshole. The boy would squirm and beg to be fucked and used, a human cumrag for the snot from his magnificent cock.
The key in the door startled neither of the men. It was seven o'clock; they knew it would be Samantha. She had become a regular witness to Patrick's humiliation at the hands of her boyfriend. She enjoyed watching the power her Matthew had over the little man, and she enjoyed the money Patrick willing provided to her and her bodybuilding boyfriend. She knew she could have a good life with Matthew, and knew that she would benefit from Patrick's involvement. She knew that the submissive man heightened Matthew's sexuality, made him more virile and dominant, and she loved that. In some ways she saw Patrick and herself as a team; they each met some of the needs of the complex man they both adored.
As Samantha settled in for the show, Matthew ordered her to be naked and fondling herself as he prepared to fuck his slave. She stripped and sat on the couch, while Matthew stripped Patrick and threw him over the preacher curl bench. Patrick's weight rested on his upturned hips, his feet dangling above the floor. The bench was turned to face Sam, so Matthew could fuck Patrick's exposed and vulnerable ass as he watched his girlfriend masturbate.
"Fuck him, big boy," Samantha snarled. She never had to worry about Matthew's cum bank running out. The stud could fuck forever and satisfy them both. She knew Patrick was simply a warm up for her own fierce pounding that she would receive from the muscular stud's powerful hips.
Matthew watched Samantha play with her tits and crotch as he took up his position behind Patrick. Matthew's thick cock pumped up to full proportions as he watched Sam's lewd behavior. The dripping cock was primed and ready to go.
"Do you want my powerful cock, boy? Want my fucking cum inside your ass?"
"Please, yes pleeease," whimpered Patrick, his butt twitching with anticipation. "Impale me, spear me, please fuck me deep, master!"
Matthew smiled at Samantha. She would yet again witness the transfer of power. Patrick would yield a little more of his self-respect, a little more of his autonomy in exchange for the chance to serve, the opportunity to be invaded by the bodybuilder's enormous prick. Patrick would give his service, and Matthew would take the worshiper's ass.
Matthew got hotter and hotter. His prick got harder and harder. The tight, smooth asshole of the submissive man enveloped his cock, caressing the skin and sucking deeply at the cum in his balls. Matthew watched Sam as she sensuously licked her lips and lewdly felt up her body. The bodybuilder groaned as he watched her, transfixed. He thrust his hips in a more powerful, faster rhythm, groin smacking Patrick's ass and leaving red marks that would later become vague bruises, a tender reminder to Patrick of who the boss really was.
Matthew began breathing in gasps. His big body shaking with the exertion of a forceful fuck. His beautiful muscles were flexing and bunching, and Patrick was writhing with pleasure. The big man's body became a fucking machine, an instinctual animalistic contraption designed to deliver buckets of sperm into the eager receptacle. He panted, gripping the smaller man's back with his large hands.
"I'm gonna fill you up, boy. My cum is gonna gush into your ass. You're gonna really feel this one."
The fluid in Matthew's gigantic balls gathered force, assembling for its mission. The pressure built to the breaking point as the ass sucked his cum, coaxing it into delivery, begging for fulfillment. Matthew's wide torso collapsed forward onto the tiny frame under him. His arms gathered around Patrick tightly, squeezing, crushing the man in his powerful grip. As his air was squeezed out, Patrick groaned, "Please, sir, please cum in my ass..."
With a final vicious thrust of Matthew's solid hips into Patrick's tight little rear, the big balls drew up tight. Matthew's groin slapped firmly against Patrick, the big cock lodged miles into the backside of its helpless little toy. Matthew seized up in advance of the impending explosion. He froze, enjoying the contraction of his balls, waiting for the eruption, wide eyes glued on Samantha.
"Oh, baby, fuck him good!" Samantha nearly screamed.
Matthew's face went beet red. He held his breath. The moment was upon him. Then he bellowed out: "Aaah...sh-sh-shit!" A bucket load of cum rocketed from his balls. His thick prick injected a hot, forceful spray directly into Patrick's guts. The throbbing cock squirted and spurted with jet after jet of slime, until Patrick's innards were sloshing, the insides of his ass coated with bodybuilder cum. Matthew had lost control; his balls and cock pumped out his seed of their own accord.
At last Matthew could again move, and his hips pistoned his cock back and forth, emphatic thrusts into Patrick's ass, forcing out more cum, underscoring his virility, and exercising his dominance more completely. He relished the glorious sensations as Patrick's spasming ass gripped his cock, milking it, sucking it sensuously.
Sweat dripped from Matt's forehead onto the back of Patrick's head. The bodybuilder wound his fingers through Patrick's hair and grunted with pleasure. Patrick's head swam with delight. His ass hurt so deliciously. He silently thanked Matthew for putting him in his place. Patrick was a lowly cumwipe, a rag of flesh for his master's wonderful cock, a mere disposal bin for the bodybuilder's excess ejaculate.
When Matthew had recovered, he stood upright, grinning wildly. He slapped Patrick's ass. "Okay, slaveboy, go make us supper. I'm going to fuck my girlfriend."
END OF PART SEVEN