Date: Sun, 7 Oct 2012 09:36:54 +0100 From: Rob Armstrong Subject: Spike's Piercing Parlour, Part Seven: Fresh Meat SPIKE'S PIERCING PARLOUR, PART SEVEN: FRESH MEAT THIS STORY CONTAINS THEMES OF INCEST BETWEEN A FATHER AND HIS 18 YR OLD SON, WATERSPORTS AND DOMINATION. THESE CHARACTERS EXIST IN AN AIDS FREE, CONSEQUENCE FREE, FANTASY PARALLEL UNIVERSE AND ARE NOT TO BE EMULATED. PLEASE SUPPORT NIFTY WITH YOUR DONATIONS AND KEEP THIS INCREDIBLE RESOURCE GOING. Summer was nearly over and the fall semester was fast approaching. In order to get ready for the new football season, Clay had started working out with his dad at his local gym. 'Halim's' was where both Spike and Thor worked out. It was a working man's gym in a fairly run-down neighborhood, with few of the modern frills of a fitness centre. Originally set up as a boxing gym in the twenties for the sons of poor men, over time it had developed into a weights workout joint. The gym had been under new ownership for a couple years now, and a dry sauna and steam room had been added to the place's meagre resources. It was Halim's son, Ercan, who ran the place now. Ercan spoke better English than his father had, but still with exotic traces of his Turkish heritage. He was a gorgeous muscle-bear of thirty, who people always took for older. He wasn't very tall, but his bulging limbs were covered with prominent veins, evidence that he was one of his own best customers and a real powerhouse. Ercan's short dark hair was complemented by a lush Turkish moustache, with a nice covering of fur over his chest and stomach. Back home he had been Turkish Wrestling champion for his region, a veteran of oil-drenched phycial bouts with other sweaty he-men. He wasn't a regular at Spike's sex dungeons, but he understood the erotic dynamic between men and indulged it when the mood took him. The mood took him pretty frequently. It was about an hour before closing time one evening when Thor and Clay happened to be hard at work. They were speeding thru circuits, high reps, lower weights, working on definition today. There were only a handful of other people in the gym by this time - a couple of overweight guys doing cardio, an old timer on a cross-trainer, and another father and son pair. It was those last two who caught Thor and Clay's attention. They were a hot duo but that wasn't why. No, they stood out for all the wrong reasons. The father, a man in his forties with what looked like permanent five o'clock shadow, gave the impression of being some kind of Wall Street hotshot. He was the kind of man who probably had an ageing trophy wife at home and a stable of pretty secretaries to blow him under his desk at the office while he was making international deals. His son, who had to be around twenty-three, appeared to be fresh out of college and was almost certainly being groomed to take over the family firm. He was a chip off the old block all right, with the same dark hair and square-jawed handsomness. His eyes were steely and cold, however, excreting arrogance and privilege from every pore. It wasn't so unusual for the well-heeled to slum it at 'Halim's' from time to time, bored with the vapid culture of the more fashionable gyms and in search of a more 'authentic training environment', and these two seemed to be of that mindset. Which would have been just peachy except that, only on their fourth visit, they were behaving in an obnoxious, entitled and bullying manner. They'd already moved the grandpa off a weights machine they'd wanted to use and had been very vocal in their opinions of the fat pair, who had been minding their own business. Now they were monopolising the cable crossover towers, taking their time and even pausing to chat. Thor and Clay had been hovering for a while, frustrated, feeling their pulse rates dropping as they were forced to wait. It wasn't long before Thor decided that enough was enough. 'Hey there, fellas, want to move it along a little? Me an' my boy here are kinda on a speed circuit and we're startin' to cool off...' The father sneered down his nose at the sight of Thor's Mohawk and his tattoos. 'My son and I haven't finished. Why not use some of the other equipment while you're waiting?' Thor smiled. 'Yeah, we USED all the other equipment, fella, an' you an' junior here are STILL chewin' the fat.' The man's face set in stone. 'This equipment's still in use. Suck it up - FELLA.' And with that he turned away to continue his conversation with his son. He was used to getting his way and as far as he was concerned the matter was closed. Clay stepped forward but Thor restrained him, one hand on his arm. 'Dad, you're not going to...' 'Shhhhh....' Thor hushed his son and nodded at the door to the changing rooms. Ercan was lounging in the doorway there and had noticed everything that had transpired. He shot Thor a look and Thor answered with a wink. 'See, son,' Thor said quietly, 'here's the thing. We got a way of dealin' with assholes like those two here at 'Halim's'. They don' need a reasoned argument - they need teachin' a lesson.' Clay's smile spread slowly across his face as he understood. 'An' of course, you realise,' added his dad, 'this means WAR...' It was decided that Clay tackle the dad whilst Thor took on the son. They didn't have to wait very long before the two split up - Senior going to sit in the sauna for a spell, while Junior did a little more work on his quads in the weights room. By this time the other three members had left and there were only the two fathers and sons present. Only Thor and Clay knew that Ercan had locked the main exit doors. Because it was a men-only gym, clothing was considered optional in most areas except the workout spaces proper. Nevertheless, Aaron Jonas Wilby III prefered to wear a towel in the sauna. Who knew WHAT germs and bacteria might lurk in a rundown dump like this place? He had only been in there for a couple of minutes when he was irritated by the blast of cold air that announced the door being opened. Who was that coming in? Oh. It was that blond boy with the sideburns, the one whose father had the nerve to take him to task out in the weights room. Another bug he'd squashed beneath his heel today. Good God, the boy had come in naked. There he was, sprawled on the upper bench, sweat gleaming from his, admittedly, superb physique - it was remarkable what the work-shy, underacheiving classes could accomplish when they lacked discipline in every other avenue of their existence. Yes, there he sat, displaying himself. Wilby had been ready to leave the crushing heat, but he wasn't about to give that boy the satisfaction. He could outlast him, no matter what the discomfort. It was all a case of mind over matter. Ha. He was standing up to go! Oh, no. Pouring a few drops of oil of some kind onto the coals. What was that? Olbas? Didn't have much scent. Then the boy was ladling water all down himself to cool off. Huh. Pussy. If you can't stand the heat... Look at him. Rubbing his hands all over his body like that. Blatantly. Feeling up his muscles. Rubbing the sweat slowly off of his ass... His round, firm ass... Little slut... Little blond slut. But then what could one expect? Look at that great thuggish boor of a father of his. Barely one step removed from mountain folk. Little better than animals, these people. Eating. Shitting. Fighting. Rutting. Screwing their own daughters, no doubt. Or sons. He wouldn't be surprised if this whelp were his own father's sex toy. Gay, straight, animals didn't make a distinction... As if he could ever look at AJ, his own son, that way. Wilby had to adjust the towel on is lap. Things were getting tight down there. Then the blond boy was climbing practically over him to get out. His buns parted right in Wilby's face, flashing him an eyeful of his hole. Yeah. Looked puffy. Puffy and used. Little queer. Probably taking it from his own father. Disgusting. Still, he'd better be getting out too. Keep an eye on that boy. Make sure he didn't try to break into his or AJ's locker or something. Damn but his dick was hard... In the weights room, AJ reached for his sports drink. Where the hell had he left it? Oh. There it was, still by the cable crossover. He retrieved it and spritzed a couple of shots into his open mouth. Ugh. Nuangg... yech... tasted kind of oily. He hadn't noticed that before. Some kind of crud must have gotten into it somehow. Seemed to sink straight in through his tongue and the walls of his mouth. Again, yech. He'd have his dad call the health department and get this toilet closed down. He was sick of it anyway, with its permastink of man sweat and its array of dripping showers. Hmmm... felt kind of good, though. Maybe just another quick shot of the sports drink... And a few more squats in front of the mirror, barbell across his shoulders... That big blond biker dude with the Mohawk was sitting on a nearby bench, staring at him. What was his problem? Surely not still sore about earlier... Oh, no, the guy was smiling at him. Okay, friendly enough. Handsome guy, in his way, same age as his dad... AJ found he was unaccountably hard in his sweatpants. Uh-oh. Better not let anyone else see that. But why not? He was Aaron Jonas Wilby IV. What did he care? Besides, the blond dude was watching. He seemed nice... Bet it would turn him on, seeing him tent out his sweats.... AJ didn't question why this was important to him, as AJ never doubted himself or questioned ANY of the things he wanted. Instead he sat back down on the leg press so he could look over at Mohawk guy. He went thru the motions of a few reps, but was mostly checking out the older man. The guy was grinning at him from ear to ear. He was lifting up his singlet, flashing hairy abs at him, while stroking his left thigh - where his hard, leaking dickhead was poking out the side of his shorts! Shit! AJ nearly lost control of the machine and the weights slammed back into place with a clang. He was mesmerised. His own member throbbed. Did his dad's dick look that mouthwatering when hard? He bet it did... He wanted to copy the guy - he wanted to be the one now to do something daring. He got off the leg press, stripped out of his sweats so that his ass was naked in his jock, picked up the barbell and started doing squats again... He relished the air on his crack as he stooped for each rep, thrusting his butt out. He kept his eyes glued to the blond stud in the mirror... In the locker room, Wilby took his time laying out the stuff for his shower. It gave him a chance to keep an eye on that damn boy. Theiving little cunt... Probably... And talking of cunt... why was the kid spending so much time smoothing body lotion into his buns and up his ass - he seemed to have some kind of itch up there, kept poking at it with one finger - when he was about to shower it all off anyway? It sure as hell wasn't easing his boner situation, that was for sure. Fact was, he was starting to drip. Huh, figured. With Diedre away from the office on leave he hadn't gotten any snatch in a week or more. For some reason his mind drifted back to his college days. He'd thought about poking his share of queer asses when whichever girl he was dating turned frigid on him and wouldn't put out - he knew many straight fellows who had - but he had always resisted the temptation. Mind over matter. Besides, he'd never had to go without a woman for very long. He wondered if AJ had tried the queer substitute thing? College was a time for experimentation... His dick throbbed. Hard. Damn this boner. And damn that blond kid... Oh, he was gone. Headed into the showers. Wilby got up and followed him, completely forgetting in his haste to take his soap or his towel . He only noticed the omission when he'd gotten to the open showers. Damn. He would have to make do with the courtesy shit from the dispensers on the wall. 'Cos there was no way he was taking his eye of that kid... Christ! Look at him. All soaped up and slowly... sensually... rinsing it off his muscles. Suds cascading down every ridge and contour of his powerful young body... revealing the tan flesh beneath... Wilby took up under the head next door. In a trance he showered, watching Clay, and never once thought to cover up his throbbing dick or even try to disguise the fact that he was watching him. Standing as close as they were, Clay accidentally brushed up against Wilby now and then. Wilby shivered. Then finally the boy bent over to soap his feet, one hand to support himself on the tiled wall. His ass brushed against Wilby's aching dick. Once... twice... The kid didn't appear to notice. Then he switched to the other foot. Wilby closed in slightly. Here came the ass. Brush... Brush... Wilby could stand it no longer. He seized Clay by the shoulders and pushed him face-forward into the wall. 'Goddamn little tease...' he growled. 'Sir?' The blond kid's voice came out in a surprised squeak. 'Sir? What are you do...?' But that was as far as the kid got - because the thrust of Wilby's fat dick up his luscious cunt momentarily took his breath away... And then he started screaming. Wilby just clamped a hairy paw over his mouth and grunted as he pumped the boy's ass mindlessly. All he could think about was how good that tight, tight fleshy glove felt on his dick... smooth, silky... Wilby had no idea that men's asses were slick and wet as pussy... unless the kid had lubed his hole or something in anticipation... Ridiculous! He couldn't have known what was coming. Even if it was all his fault for being such a little tease... No, this was him, Aaron Jonas Wilby III, asserting his manhood over lesser men and taking what was his by right. By birthright! Oooh, and boy ass felt so good. God! Tighter than any pussy he'd ever fucked. If he didn't know better he'd swear that the kid was wiggling himself back onto him and using his ass muscles to milk him dry... He thrust and thrust, enjoying the boy's muted whimpers... 'Mmmmf... mmmmff... mmmfff...' 'Gngh...gngh...gngh...gngh...' Forget the women from now on. He'd fuck the intern boy. He'd fuck the boy from the mail room. He'd drag the young gardener into the pool house and do him... And then there was AJ. He'd walk into AJ's office, lock the door, throw his son down across the desk... 'Ooooh, Dad...' came his son's voice in his head, '...what you doing...?' Thought he was ready to take over the firm from the old man, did he? Fill his father's shoes? 'No, Daddy, noooo...' Well he'd show the young buck. Take what was rightfuly his. Rip his pants down and FILL HIS TIGHT ASS...! 'Aaaargh.... AAAAAARGHHHHHH.....' That last image pushed Wilby over the edge and he savagely pounded his load into the blond boy's hole... He stood there for a second, his chest heaving, the boy still sandwiched in between him and the wall. Then the kid must have realised his ordeal was over, as he finally used those impressive muscles to fight Wilby off and beat him back a little. The kid slipped in his haste and landed with a splash on the floor of the shower. He sprawled there, tears in his eyes, looking up at Wilby. 'You... you fucking RAPED me you godamn motherfucker...' Wilby just laughed down at him. 'Why don't you PROVE it, you little blond slut?' But the boy wasn't letting it go. He scrambled to his feet and backed away, pointing an accusing finger. 'You... you fucking RAPED my ass, man...' And with that he fled. Alone with his thoughts, Wilby suddenly didn't feel quite so smug. Sure, he'd fucked a boy's ass, that in itself wasn't illegal. If the boy wanted to press charges he'd be up against Wilby's own crack legal team and they would destroy him utterly. But the scandal. And right now, he and AJ were stuck here in this hole of a blue collar gym. If that boy alerted his hulking father... such people rarely allowed the niceties of the law to prevent them from dealing out rough justice. Wilby was panic struck. He hurried out after the boy into the locker room and grabbed his towel from the bench. That boy was nowhere to be seen. 'AJ?' Wilby called, 'AJ, grab your things, we're leaving.' Damnit, where WAS his son? Surely not still preening out in the gym in front of those mirrors like a queer? Wilby threw his towel round his waist and set off to find him. The place seemed deserted. As he passed back thru the corridor where the sauna was located, the door to the steam room burst open violently and Wilby yelped in spite of himself. A cloud of steam billowed out into passageway... and out thru it appeared AJ, apparently stark naked, crawling on his hands and knees, his eyes wild and his hair a dishevelled mess. Wilby could only blink down at him unbelievingly. His son held up a hand, pathetic and pleading. 'Dad... help... help meee...' he whined... And then something in the mist must have got hold of his unseen nether regions, because he jerked as if in shock. There was a wet smacking, suckling sound back there... AJ's eyes rolled up in his head a little and his whimpers changed to a gasp of pleasure... ...as he was dragged back bodily into the steam... Wilby just stood there, staring at the patch of floor where his son had been begging for help just a moment ago. He wasn't used to dealing with physical danger... The police. He'd run and get help. But by that time? Judging by the awful moans and groans, something was happening to his son and it was happening right now. Wilby swallowed down bile. Every limb trembling, he stepped thru the open door into the steam room to help his son... It was a boiling wet fog in there. Wilby felt his way forward carefully, following the noises... the awful noises... 'Unghhhh... unghhh... unghhhh.... unghhhhhh.....' Squelch... squelch... squelch... squelch... Flesh against flesh... flesh WITHIN flesh... The smells of sex - and that oily residue from earlier... Fear was making Wilby erect again. Well. It was probably the fear. Then the steam cleared in parting curtains, enough for him to see. His son, his heir, his firstborn and only child, was writhing in ecstasy as he sat impaled on the rampant dick of the blond Mohawk thug. The man had AJ by the hips and bent him forward as he vigorously sodomised him... ...but AJ seemed now a willing participant... His son didn't even seem aware of his father's presence. 'AJ?' Wilby said, appalled, 'AJ? Son?' The man who was fucking him looked up and grinned at him slyly. 'This equipment's still in use. Suck it up, fella.' Wilby was barely aware of the door to the steam room closing beind him, trapping him in here with this scene of horror. Nor was he conscious of Clay and Ercan as they emerged from the steam behind him and started groping his body. 'Thanks for the wild ride, mister,' Clay whispered in his ear, 'You throw almost as mean a fuck as my daddy, there.' But Wilby was deaf to his taunts. All he could do was stare at his son being deflowered by that magnificent blond animal, at the way his son writhed and moaned like a whore and his erect dick bobbed up and down with nobody paying it any attention - the words of the Mohawk daddy ringing in his ears... 'Suck it up, fella...' And so Wilby did. He got down on his hands and knees and took his son's rock hard phallus in his mouth. And he sucked it up. Later on the image that proably stuck most in Clay's mind was of Wilby standing braced in that steam room, holding his son upside down, the boy with his legs wrapped round his father's head and his hands braced on his thighs, as the two of them engaged in a hot 69. By then, of course, Thor had his dick lodged deep up Wilby's hole and Ercan already had four fingers stretching out AJ's cunt. And here they all were now, hours later, the star attraction at Rubber Fetish Night down in Spike's dungeons. Ercan had relented and agreed to try out the place. Now he was here both Clay and Thor could see he would be back. His eyes were wide at the sights and sounds around him. He had always enjoyed mansex but had clearly never suspected the variety of pleasures it had to offer. But he himself had to be the greatest attraction here tonight, up on his stage at the centre of the leather room - a gorgeous young Turkish musclebear dressed in his borrowed rubber pants and vest, with a long fisting glove on each arm. Ercan was a gifted master of fisting - a natural at working on the tightest, most virginal manhole and turning it into spandex... And right now he wore a Wilby on each arm... Wilby Senior rode his right fist, and AJ the left. Both Wilbys were stark naked. Father and son's wrists were bound behind their backs and their rampant dicks were strapped tightly together, pulsing piss-tube against piss-tube, as they frenched, hungry as if the other's face were their last meal on Earth. Cruel metal teeth were clamped on each nipple, chains connecting father to son, each movement of their writhing torsos pulling them taut. The two Wall Street magnates were reduced to a sluttish, enslaved spectacle. They moaned whorishly as Ercan worked his Crisco slathered gauntlets in and out of their hungry chutes, churning and twisting, the corded muscles of those hairy forearms bulging as they worked. The pressure on their innards had already caused father and son to void their bladders over each other at least half a dozen times by now. The crowd of spectators cheered each time they did so. Spike alowed certain favored regulars to join the performers on stage and add to the Wilby's humiliation by showering them with piss and cum. Wilby would release his son's mouth each time, so that they could both drink deep of the bodily fluids that rained down upon them. AJ savored the variety - the watery beer piss of a young skinhead, or the strong, tart brew from the polar bear with the furry gut. Occasionaly a fleeting look of doubt would flicker thru their eyes. Weren't hey supposed to be somewhere else? Was this really who they were? But then Ercan's thumb would graze a joyspot, or another load of piss would surprise them, and their firing lust would glaze them right back over and they would be drooling, panting cumsluts again. Another cheer went up as AJ's dick fired off its third volley of cum of the night. It was getting thinner by now but it still gave father and son's faces a nice frosting. When the Wilbys were finally spent they were hauled away to serve in adjacent slave cages. Ercan flexed his gloved hands and then was ready to go again as Thor and Clay replaced the Wilbys on his talented fists. As each Larsen squatted down, to rapturous cheers from their devoted fans, Thor shot Clay a wink. 'See, son? That's how we deal with... unghhh... assholes. We turn them INTO assholes... ooh, yeah Ercan, buddy, open me up...' 'Yeah, Dad? Unghh... well right now Ercan's got four fingers up mine, so shut up and get your tongue in my mouth!' 'Hehehe... anything for my boy... Oooof!' 'Ooooof...' And the rest was the wet smacking of tongues... END OF PART SEVEN