Date: Sun, 30 Jul 2017 17:33:04 +0000 (UTC)
From: Chunky Chains <chunkychains@yahoo.com>
Subject: Turning Jonny

This story is about male/male relationships and contains graphic
descriptions of sex.

You should not read this story if it is in any way illegal due to your age
or residence.

This is a work of pure fiction. It mixes fictional characters and events
with real people. However any real person mentioned in this work is purely
an actor playing a part. This story in no way is meant to imply anything
about the sexuality, personality, or behaviour of the actual person.

--------------
TURNING JONNY
--------------

Set in the summer of 2003

For DS

--------------

The heat from the shower and the intoxicating menthol smell from his shower
gel finally began to revive Jonny Wilkinson, but he still ached.  He had
been practicing his kicks for the last three hours, and using the same
muscle groups and adopting his famous pre-kick pose repeatedly for so long
had taken its toll.  He was pleased with his accuracy, and had even managed
to successfully kick penalties from some very difficult locations.

He shut off the shower, rubbed the water off his body and out of his hair,
and then grabbed his towel from the hook and wrapped it round his waist.
He wandered out into the empty changing room, quite glad it was peaceful
and quiet rather than full of the normal raucous noise there would be if
the whole team had been there.  That had been yesterday over at Pennyhill
Park, but today he had the whole place to himself at Twickenham, where they
had been kind enough to let him train with the more realistic backdrop of
towering stands behind the goalposts he was tuned to aim for.

He was pleased that he'd told Clive about the aches from doing this sort of
intensive kicking training last time, as his coach had booked one of the
team's sports massage therapists to come over to the stadium to tend to him
afterwards and get him feeling human again.  Grabbing his watch out of the
his bag he saw that the massage was not due for another twenty minutes, so
Jonny settled down on the bench, leant back against the wall, stretched out
his aching legs and closed his eyes.  The changing room was warm, so even
though he was glistening with water from the shower he was comfortable
enough just to relax for a bit.

Jonny's mind wandered back to the Six Nations earlier in the year, when
he'd had an amazing tournament and emerged as the top point scorer.  Since
then he'd had to endure a bit of a media circus, finding himself the
subject of a lot of attention from admirers of all kinds and all sexes.  He
smiled as he remembered some of the notes and letters he'd received, asking
him to do everything from having babies with women to offering up his arse
to a whole host of men.  He had, of course, passed on all the offers,
focusing on the rugby.

He was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of a crash from the
corridor leading into the changing room, followed by a lot of swearing.  He
hauled his aching muscles off the bench and padded down to investigate, and
upon turning the corner saw a man wrestling with a massage table that had
clearly fallen open while being carried.

"Ah for shite's sake" he heard growled in an Irish accent.

"Er, do you need some help?" Jonny called down the corridor.

The man bolted upright and whirled round to face the rugby player, causing
the table to crash open again.  Even before he'd answered Jonny was making
his way down the corridor to assist, leaving damp footprints on the painted
concrete floor as he went.  As he walked down, he took in the features of
the guy who was going to be massaging him.  Tall, probably six-two, perhaps
late twenties or early thirties, jet black hair cut short and lightly
gelled up into a modern style, bright blue eyes, strong jawline with a 5
o'clock shadow, skin darker than Jonny was used to with the Irish, a broad
chest, what looked like some incredible pecs under the tight blue polo
shirt he was wearing, and impressive biceps.  Jonny found himself suddenly
a little intimidated by the size and appearance of this man, and looked
down at the table as he approached.

"Ach sorry" said the man, shaking his head.  "This fecking thing always
does this."

Jonny looked back up and smiled at the therapist as he reached him, and
then made his way round to the other side of the table to help the man
close it and re-attach the warped clasp at the top.  Jonny then crouched
down to do the one at the bottom, but as he stood back up straight his
towel loosened and fell to the floor, leaving him standing naked and wet in
the middle of the corridor.

"Shit" he muttered, twirling round so his testicles were out of sight and
then bending over to pick up the dropped towel.  He stood back up and swung
the towel round him, pulling it a lot tighter than before and tucking it
in.  When he turned back round, he briefly caught the gaze of the therapist
on where his arse had been, before the man looked back up at the blushing
rugby player.

"Ach sure this corridor must be jinxed for dropping things on the floor"
said the therapist, smiling at Jonny with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Er, yeah" said Jonny, rather flustered by having exposed himself to this
stranger outside the normal environs of the changing room.

"So, can ya give me a hand with this fecker?" asked the therapist.  "Just
in case it bloody breaks again."

"Er, sure" said Jonny, turning to pick up one of the handles at the back
end of the table.  He lifted it and turned back to the man, who was still
grinning at him.  The therapist then hoisted up the other end of the table,
lifted his bag from the floor and slung it on his shoulder, and then
started marching forward with Jonny and the table in tow.

"The name's Sean" said the man, slightly turning his head back.

"Er, Jonny" replied the rugby player.

"Aye" said the man, "that I knew."

-------

A short while later, Jonny was face down on the now-sheeted table, with his
face in the cushioned cradle and a towel draped over his naked bottom.  He
listened as Sean got his things together, using his ears and the shadows on
the floor to follow the man round the table.

"Will ya be wanting some of that twinkly music?" Sean asked.

"Er, no" replied Jonny, "I'm OK."

"Good" said Sean, "that crap gets on me nerves after a while."

Jonny was a bit perplexed by what was going on.  Whenever he'd had a
massage before it had all been a calming, relaxing vibe, with the therapist
speaking in soft tones.  This guy here today seemed more like he'd stepped
straight off a construction site.

"Right" said Sean, "all ready.  So what do ye need doing?"

"Er" coughed Jonny, "I guess everything, but particularly my back, my legs
and, er, my glutes."

"Well OK" said Sean.  With that, he poured some comfortingly warm almond
oil on to Jonny's warm, put some more on to his hands, placed them on the
rugby player's back, and started to gently rub.

Jonny instantly relaxed with the contact, pleased to feel that Sean's big,
strong hands were warm and soft.  The gentle spreading motion being used to
distribute the oil soon turned to a comfortable pressure as the masseur
began to work the knots out of his back, kneading his skin as he went.
Jonny closed his eyes as he felt himself drift off into a comatose state.
Sean worked him over, moving on to his shoulders, neck, head and arms,
before turning attention to the rugby player's troublesome legs.  The knots
here were much tighter, and there was some pain as the masseur worked them
out, but Jonny remained calm and relaxed, eyes closed and not uttering a
sound.

Soon Sean had worked over most of Jonny's legs, and began to head back
north.  He pushed the towel up to gain access to Jonny's backside, starting
to rub and push the glute muscles.  It was at that this point that the
rugby player noticed his masseur's hands were going where none had before
during one of these sessions, slightly pushing into the crevice between his
tight cheeks.  Still, the massage felt amazing, and he could really sense
that his aches and pains were dissipating with each passing minute, so he
just breathed out and continue to relax.

Then Jonny emitted a moan of pleasure as one of Sean's fingers grazed his
hole, sending electric tingles up and down his body.  It happened again,
and again, and each time he could not help himself from reacting.  He felt
himself getting aroused, and shifted a little to release his penis from
where it was trapped under his waist as it tried to grow.  Yet, as things
were happening to him that had never happened before, he did not resist and
kept his eyes closed, now almost out of body as Sean's expert hands
continued their visitations to his rear end.

Jonny was startled out of his when he felt some oil being poured into his
crevice, followed shortly afterwards by some pressure on his hole as Sean
began to push a finger in.  He tensed up slightly, but found he could not
find whatever it was he needed from within himself to resist.  He moaned
loudly when the finger popped in to his hole.

"Shhhhh" whispered Sean, using his other hand to gently rub over Jonny's
back.  His middle finger was now embedded to the first joint in Jonny, and
he gradually pushed it further in, getting more mild moans from the rugby
player.  He slowly withdrew the finger, and then pushed it back in again.

"Uuuurrgh" moaned Jonny, breathing out deeply.

Again and again, Sean probed in and out of Jonny's hole, and then took
things up a notch by adding his index finger to the mix.  The rugby player
still did not protest, accepting the extra invasion with yet more gentle
moans.  Spurred on by the apparent receptiveness of his client, he started
to push the two fingers in deeper than he'd gone yet, firmly holding his
other hand on the small of Jonny's back to steady and comfort him.  His
fingers were soon buried up to the knuckle, and he then began to pull them
in and out while also starting to stretch them apart to open up Jonny's
channel.

Sean then pulled out both his fingers, and was pleased to see Jonny respond
to the emptiness by slightly raising his arse up almost to beg for
penetration.  Sean took this as a good sign, and this time bunched his ring
finger with the other two and pushed back in.  Jonny groaned loudly this
time, tensing as Sean pushed in as far as he could comfortably go.  As
before, he then proceeded to finger-fuck the rugby player's hole,
stretching him open.

Jonny was completely delirious, with one part of his head screaming at him
to wake the fuck up and stop this, but the rest of him lost in the amazing
sensations of having his arse violated for the first time since childhood
visits to the doctor.  He moaned and groaned as Sean's three fingers thrust
inside him, stretching him open and causing him a pain that he found
unbearable and exhilarating in equal measures.

Then, once again, the fingers were suddenly removed.  However, this time
they did not come back, and Jonny found himself lifting his head to try to
see what was happening behind him.  However, as soon as his face was out of
the cradle, he felt his body being pulled and turned sideways by Sean's
powerful hands.  Before he knew it, his legs were over the side, his feet
on the floor, and his arms and head hanging off the other side of the
table.

He then felt a new pressure on his rear end, different to the fingers.  It
pushed and pushed, and he somehow, instinctively, subconsciously, pushed
back.  With that, Sean's mammoth penis entered him and started its journey
up into new depths inside him.

"Ohhhhhhhh" moaned Jonny in one long breath, until he felt roughness on his
arsecheeks and no more pushing from behind.  He was stretched, filled, in
pain, but still placidly slumped over the massage table.  He started to
breathe in deeply, and in time the dull pain lessened.  He found the
muscles up inside his bottom starting to twitch, investigating this new
invader, and the more he flexed and tightened the more aroused he got.

"That's right boy" said Sean.

"Unh" muttered Jonny.

"Now tell me what you want."

"Unh".

"Come on now boy" said Sean, a little louder.  "Tell me what you want."

"Fuck" growled Jonny quietly.

"What?" asked Sean.

"Fuck" Jonny growled again, a little louder.

"Pardon?" said Sean.

Jonny lifted his head.

"I want you to fuck me!" he yelled, thrusting himself backwards to somehow
push Sean's cock deeper in to him.

"Good." said Sean, "It's good that you now know what you are."

He took hold of Sean's hips, and then began to thrust in and out.  He moved
at a steady, moderate pace, aiming to gently but firmly induct his quarry
in to the world of being a cumdump for other men.  Jonny Wilkinson would be
a good addition to his roster.

Jonny was even deeper into his delirious state, now drowning out all the
protesting voices in his head by focusing on just how good this felt, and
how right it had seemed to demand this fucking.  His whole body was alive
with Sean's rhythmic pulsing back and forth, and his hole felt so amazingly
full.  It was all he could do but to moan his appreciation.

Sean kept up the steady pace until he felt his excitement levels growing,
at which point he began to pick up speed.  Jonny responded by moaning even
louder with each thrust inwards, and then out of nowhere his cock erupted
on to the floor.  The pulsing in his channel as he orgasmed was too much
for Sean, and he rammed in harder several times before exploding inside the
rugby stud, giving him the first of what he expected would be many
breedings.

The masseur came down from his orgasm, and pulled his cock out of Jonny's
dripping hole.  He decided that he may as well get the boy up to speed on
all his future duties, so he made his way round the table to the other side
where Jonny's head was hanging off, eyes closed and mouth open.  Sean bent
his knees gently to line up his cock, and then pushed it into the open
mouth.  Once again, somehow, Jonny did not repel the invader, but instead
opened wider to allow the cummy dick in.  He instinctively began to suck,
lick and service the cock that had just been up inside him, not knowing
what was the taste of Sean and what was from his own backside.

Jonny slurped on Sean's dick until the masseur was satiated, at which point
he pulled it out and stepped back to admire his work.  Jonny Wilkinson, the
toast of English rugby, was slumped over the massage table, his tongue
hanging out almost as if he wanted the cock back, and cum still dripping
from his arse.

"You did good boy" said Sean.  "Very good."

"Thank you" Jonny whispered.

"Now get yourself off me table so I can pack up."

"Yes sir" said Jonny, not knowing where the `sir' came from in his mind.

Sean smiled, amazed at how easy this had been.  As he watched the rugby
player ease himself off the table, he couldn't help but feel aroused again.
He busied himself with removing the sheet from the table, folding it up and
then putting all his other supplies into his bag, all the while noticing
that Jonny was just standing there in the middle of the room, with a lost,
glazed look over his face.  This was too much for Sean to bear, as his dick
began to grow again.  He paused a moment, and then began to take off his
clothes until he was as naked as Jonny.

"Right boy, into the shower with you" he commanded.  "Time for me to fuck
you again."

Jonny glanced at him, then nodded before heading into the showers where he
had been just an hour before.  He heard Sean moving behind him, and without
thinking, just headed over to the wall.  He bent forward, putting one arm
and his head on the tiles, and pushed his arse out backwards.

"Man alive" said Sean, "you're practically begging for it.  Such a natural
cumdump."

"Yes sir" Jonny whispered, feeling the first stab of humiliation at what
was happening to him.  What had gone before had been practically coercion,
but now he was making it clear to the masseur what he wanted when he barely
even understood it himself.

Sean wasted no time, stepping up behind Jonny and pushing himself in, using
the remnants of the massage oil and cum left in there from last time as
lube.  Once buried, he immediately began a much more powerful fuck,
gripping Jonny's hips and slamming the player's body back into his own as
he fucked.  Jonny grunted as Sean's dick sawed through his guts, feeling
more pain than last time but somehow enjoying it all the same.

For Sean, this was a fuck-and-dump, and as he pounded into Jonny and
thought of all the things the boy would probably now do at his command, he
felt his second orgasm building.  He sped up to a furious pace, and then
rammed in one last time as he erupted and filled Jonny with his second load
of the day.  Once he had finished spurting, he pulled out and stepped back,
waiting to see what would happen.  With delight, he watched as Jonny
straightened up, turned around and then went down on to his knees
immediately to clean off Sean's dick.  He sucked and licked until the last
of the cum was gone, and then dropped back to sit on his thighs.  Sean
patted him on the head, and gently pushed to encourage Jonny to look up at
him.

"You're a cumdump now, do you understand?"

"Yes sir" said Jonny, his eyes like those of a dog gazing up at its master.

"You're my cumpdump now."

"Yes sir."

"Good" said Sean, "you should know your place."

"Yes sir" replied Jonny, finally being overtaken with the humiliation and
despair he had been keeping suppressed through the whole ordeal.

Sean turned on a shower and got under the spray.

"Come and wash me boy" he commanded.

Jonny looked up and paused, then got to his feet and made his way over.  He
used the dispenser on the wall to fill his hands with shower gel, and then
began to gently rub it in to Sean's body.  As he washed, he started to
realise he liked how it felt to be moving his hands over the tight muscles
of another man like this, and started to really take care and attention
over what he was doing.  He washed Sean's arms, torso and back, then worked
his way down to do his legs.  He then moved up, and gently caressed around
his bottom and between the legs.  He then set to work gently and carefully
washing Sean's generous penis and low-hanging balls, resisting the urge to
lean forward and take them into his mouth.  What was happening to him?

He finally got back on his feet and encouraged Sean to turn round so that
he could wash his hair, and then when done he gently massaged the flowing
water across the masseur's head to clean off the foam.  Sean then turned
off the taps, and turned around and looked into Jonny's face, pleased that
the rugby player reached up to swab away any water that was going to go
into his eyes.

"Good boy" he said.  "Now kiss me."

Jonny stood and stared into the man's handsome face.  He knew then that
this was something he wanted to do, not just now but again in future.  A
wave of euphoria swept over him, and he found himself smiling for the first
time since this had all begun.  He leaned forward and craned his head
upwards, with the taller man leaning down slightly so their lips could
meet.  It was a hesitant kiss at first, but then Jonny relaxed and allowed
himself to let go, doing with Sean what he had only done with women so far.
He probed the man's mouth with his tongue, allowed Sean to do the same to
him, loving the feeling of the masseur's unshaved face rubbing on his own
smooth skin.

Sean then pulled back, and looked at his new boy.  Jonny no longer looked
pained or glazed over, but was instead staring back at him with something
verging on adoration.

"Thank you boy" said Sean, a little less sternly than his previous
utterances.  "You know how to please me."

"Yes sir" replied Jonny, smiling.

They gazed at one another for a few moments more, and then Sean moved away
towards the changing rooms.

"Get yourself clean boy" he commanded, "and then go on home.  I'll let you
know when I need you next."

With that, Sean was gone.  Jonny stood for a while longer, his gaze
lingering on the doorway Sean had just gone through.  Eventually he moved
under the shower, turned on the tap and let the hot water fall on him.  He
stood for some time under the hot spray, his mind starting to try to make
sense of what had just happened to him, before he snapped out of it and set
to washing himself clean.  In time his fingers found their way to his
well-fucked hole, and he touched and prodded around his back end feeling
himself stretched in a way he never had been before.  He was sore, but
somehow he felt right.  He applied some gel to his fingers and probed up
inside himself, keen to clean the rest of the two loads of cum Sean had
dumped in there, and then he finished up rigorously washing his hair and
face.

Stepping from the shower and finding his slightly damp towel on the bench,
he got himself dried off as best he could before putting on his underwear,
T-shirt, trousers, socks and trainers.  He stuffed the rest of his things
into his sports bag, and then made his way over to the sinks to use the
mirror to sort his hair.  There, for the first time, he looked at the
reflection of a man who had changed.  He dropped his bag to the floor and
then just stood, staring at the mirror and the image of himself, almost not
knowing the man who stared back at him.

"I'm a cumdump" he whispered.  "I'm a cumpdump!" he then said a lot louder.
He smiled as his voice echoed around the changing room, before reaching
down, grabbing his bag, doing one last check of his hair and then setting
off home.

-------

TO BE CONTINUED

chunkychains@yahoo.com

-------

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