This story was inspired by Vinny Muscle Stallion's story about hiring a masseur.
The stories aren't related, just giving credit where credit is due.
"Devon the Ripped Masseur" by sexyalphawrestler on Gay Demon.
“What the fuck are you saying, slave?”
“I need a break. It’s been fun, but I’m done.” I try to mask my fear with humor, “HA! That rhymed.”
“Shut the fuck up, bitch! We’re back to this little game, are we? Been a few months. I thought I broke you of this bad habit. We both know that I decide when it’s over, not you. Do you remember what happened the last time you tried to quit me? And the two times before that? Are you missing the feeling of groveling to me to take you back? Missing the punishment you earned?”
 |
| Master Steele is not happy with me. |
 |
| The 'me' he's not happy with. |
Of course, I remember begging him to take me back, the last time before our call even ended. But that was then. This is now. I roll my shoulders back and confidently state to the handsome bodybuilder on my 32” 6K Retina display, “This time is different.”
“Uh huh. Boy, Master Steele knows your game. You quit. You beg for forgiveness. Beg to pay me to keep you as my bitch. You’re gonna be punished for this. I’ve been too nice to you. Too softdom. Letting you slide on your bad behavior. How about I add a zero? Take back the key to your cage?” The bodybuilder bounces his pecs. “Strip. Assume the position.”
I hold firm, “You’re not hearing me, Steele. This time is different.”
“Master Steele!”
“Not anymore. I’m taking a break from all this, Santo.” His face goes red as I dare to use his nickname. Santo, short for Santiago. He accidentally shared it on an email and allowed me to use it when we weren’t in full play mode. I knew that he wouldn’t take the breakup well, none of them ever do, but he’s even more upset than I expected. “I really am this time.”
“You really want to be wrecked today, don’t you?”
I stifle a ‘yes’ and stay strong. I lay it on the line, “I know I’ve sent mixed messages in the past. That’s on me. I’ll be clearer this time. You’re fired.”
Santo is shocked by my choice of words. He laughs, “Fired? What? You can’t fire your dom! I don’t work for you! I OWN YOU!”
I recite my speech, “I pay you to dominate me. To get me off. Findoms, for all their talk, are just tools for their subs. You are a great dom. Fun as fuck. Worth more than every penny I’ve paid you. But the guy with the money is the real boss. You have been working for me all along. Providing a service which I no longer need. You are fired.”
“You fucking bitch!” Santo stops himself. He looks at me. “This time IS different. I can feel it.” I nod, relieved that his uncanny ability to understand how I’m feeling through a video call is working in my favor. He asks in a normal voice, still in disbelief, “You’re really dumping me, Brian? Why? I thought this is what you want?”
“Yes. It is. I mean, it was. I’m sorry.” I regret apologizing. I try to keep myself under control. “It’s just time. Thank you for the past six months. Good luck in your future endeavors.”
CLICK!
I sign off. I collapse on my bed. It takes nearly an hour for the blackmail email to come through. Hm. Took longer than usual. I forward it to my attorney. She’s expecting it and will handle it from here on out. Santo isn’t the first guy I’ve paid to dominate me online. And he won’t be the last. I like Vanessa because she doesn’t judge. When I’m done with my doms, she cleans up any mess I leave behind.
Yes, I’m wealthy. Wealthy enough to have a lawyer handle my online dalliances.
I stand up and stretch. Master Steele was so good. Too good. The best I’ve had. The biggest and best looking. 28 years old. Younger, but all-man. Already so skilled. Physically, he’s perfect for me - 6’3”, 250-lbs, bodybuilder, smooth dark brown skin, dark hair and scruff, with a huge cock and heavy balls. And a killer smile. Yes, my dom smiles. My ex-dom, I mean.
 |
| This will be tough to forget. |
Damn, my cock is rock hard. Shake it off, Brian. Forget him, just like all the ones before.
I’m sure he’ll land on his feet. Guys like him can always find money. Maybe not my kind of money, but he’ll be fine. I’m sure jerking off in black leather over a computer while ordering around some loser is better than selling his body to the highest bidder. I did suggest he wrestle for one of those gay video sites. With his mouth and body, he’d be an awesome heel.
I head to the shower. Maybe I can wash off the remorse and guilt. I look myself over in the mirror. I’m white, brunette bordering on ginger, 38, 5’11”, 180. Mustache and stubble beard. I’ve got muscles. Gym-built by my personal trainer and a nutritionist. I’m an artist living on a trust fund, so I can spend the time to stay chiseled with a six-pack. Rich, ripped, and decent looking.
So, why do I pay anyone for anything sexual?
I don’t need to. But emotionally, I’m not the most … available person. Introverted is a nice way of saying it. I’m not looking for love. Relationships suffocate me. Scare me. I’ve tried finding domination in real-life. I have tried clubs and ads and sites. Here in Atlanta and elsewhere. It’s never exactly what I want. And I want what I want. I’m like some kind of weird alpha submissive masochist.
With my online doms, it’s simple. They know their role. I know their role. It’s virtual. It’s like personal performance art where I get off at the end. Transactional. Since I can’t be blackmailed, embarrassed, or threatened, they’re easy to dispose of when I’m done. Well, they’re usually easy to dispose of. Master Steele is different. Was different. I should have been stronger the first time I tried to quit him. Then I wouldn’t be so emotionally drained today.
It’s like Master Steele could sense my feelings. He got me immediately, better than anyone else in my life, honestly. It was like he intuitively knew what I needed. What I wanted. What I wouldn’t tolerate. Call me a gay slur and we’re done. He never did. Rush me or cheat me? Done. He more than fulfilled his side of the bargain. He pushed me to the edge of my boundaries and sometimes just past them, but always in the right way.
I know that he just did what I wanted to keep me handing out cash, but it felt great.
I miss him already, but I was right to cut ties. It was time. Past time, really. I was falling in love with him. I was losing control. That cannot happen. After I learned his name, it wasn’t all domination anymore. We went weeks where he never asked me for money. That was a red flag, but I stupidly ignored it. We talked. Really talked. We know stuff about each other. We share interests. I sent him the perfect gift for his birthday, not because he made me, but because I knew what it would be. Over six months, we’d become … friendly.
The shower feels great. I play happy music through the speakers. Dance a little. Get massaged by a dozen shower heads. Relax in the steam setting while I sit on the bench. Amazing, but it does nothing for my mood. I dry off with my 800 thread count towels. Pull on my plush white robe. I exit my large en suite, through my primary bedroom, and head across my huge Buckhead penthouse to the kitchen.
As I make tea, my phone goes off. It’s Vanessa. That’s odd. She never calls me this quickly after one of my breakups. I hope there isn’t a problem.
“Vanessa. This is a surprise.”
“Brian. How are you doing?”
“Fine. What’s wrong?”
She replies, “Nothing, actually. Nothing for me, at least. I take it that you didn’t read Santiago’s email before sending it to me.”
“I did not. What’s going on?”
“Santiago is not threatening you. He’s not blackmailing you.”
“He’s not?”
“He’s not.” Vanessa sighs, “Santiago is asking you, rather politely I might add, to reconsider. The note talks about how much he enjoyed your time together. Looked forward to it. That you are special. He apologizes for whatever he did that was wrong. And he’s offering to work out something to continue. No money. More money. Clear guardrails. He’d like to discuss it with you. He’s willing to come to Atlanta to meet in person. On his own dime.”
I sit down. “Oh.”
“I can tell him to get lost, but as your attorney, this isn’t something I could keep from you. It’s quite a heartfelt note. I didn’t know that you liked to cook Venezuelan food.”
“I recently learned.” Because of him. “What should I do?”
“Oh, honey, I can’t tell you that. It’s not a legal matter. Discuss it with your psychiatrist.”
I laugh, “Oh, I will. Trust me, I will. Shannon knows all about Master Steele and my feelings toward him. But tell me what you think. As a woman of the world.”
“As a woman, I was moved. It made me smile. Made me feel. I wanted to give him a hug. Maybe that’s a turn off for you. I know you hired him to, well, be dominant. This is not that. This is almost like a love letter. If you want a clean break, it might help or it might not. As your lawyer, I was obliged to tell you. As a woman, I felt like you needed to know. I’d want to.”
I slouch in my chair and stare out the window. “Wow. This is … not what I expected.”
“I didn’t think so. But is it what you want?”
“No, of course not.” I softly add, “Well. Maybe.” I pause. Vanessa waits, letting me process it. What does she care, she’s on the clock. Sorry, that was unkind and unfair. I’m out of sorts. Fortunately, I didn’t say it out loud. I admit, “I don’t know, Vanessa.” I sigh, “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll let you know what I decide to do.”
After I hang up, I march to my office, tea in hand. I hover the cursor over the email. I hesitate. Maybe I should forward it to Shannon first. Let her read it. What’s the point of having a psychiatrist if not to protect you from emotionally traumatizing events. Like a love letter from a man you were involved with for six months. Six months. The longest relationship of my life.
I’m so weak. I open it. If it really is soft and emotional, it might make it easier to forget him. I was attracted to Master Steele, not some emo muscleboy in Houston named Santiago. I read. Oh. It’s not almost like a love letter. It is a real, genuine love letter. It’s the first one I’ve ever received, but I think it’s a great one. No wonder it took him an hour to send it.
I can’t believe it. My ex-findom is smart and sensitive. Six months is a long time for me. Apparently, it was meaningful for him, too. He reminds me of all the interests that we share. He’s willing to end the fin part of our dom-sub relationship. Or up it, if that’s what I want. I should hate this sweet shit, but I don’t. It’s all I can do not to reach out to him. I read it three times. My feelings only get more confused each time through.
What is this guy doing to me?
TWO WEEKS LATER.
“How was your flight, Santo?”
“Good. On-time and they didn’t lose my luggage.”
I laugh, “That’s all we can ask for these days.”
We sit in silence. I’m overwhelmed by him. Even my high-res screen couldn’t do him justice. I’ve seen him naked, but I’ve never been more attracted to him than right now. He’s dressed like a regular guy. Maybe even a bit of a nerd in a loose Superman tee, jeans, and red Chuck’s. No one but me would suspect he’s also Master Steele.
Just like a superhero with a secret identity. My very own superhero … no. Stay strong.
After reading his letter, I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out. I felt I owed it to him. Santo and I had two talks. Master Steele and I had one hot dom session. And now, he’s here. Live and in person. Across the small table in his hotel’s lobby cafe. He did fly to Atlanta on his own dime. He’s paying for his own hotel. And this is a nice one. Stylish. Luxurious. Expensive.
I’ve never had anyone cross the street for me before. My own parents call me once a year on my birthday and have the staff send me a Christmas card. This man flew a thousand miles (give or take, I’m not a fucking map app) to see me. It has me worked up. I’ve channeled my feelings into the best art of my life. Only one piece. Half done. But I’m excited about it.
Shannon thinks this meeting will be good for me. A breakthrough.
At this moment, I think she’s nuts.
Santo speaks, “Thanks for agreeing to meet me, Brian. Lemme start by saying that I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For whatever I did. I know I can be intense. Demanding. This will sound stupid, but I thought I could read you. See into you. Know what you want and need. It felt like a deeper connection than I’ve had with other subs.” I nod. He continues, “I guess that made me cocky. I guess I went too far. With the domination. With the money. But I don’t care about that.”
“The findom doesn’t care about money?”
“I don’t. You found me on the findom site, but I was just on there because I find really good subs there. I’m not some gay-for-pay asshole scamming on guys. I am gay and I’m in it for the experience, not the payday.”
“A man with a heart of gold? C’mon, it was nice to get paid.”
“It was nice for the same reason it was nice for you to pay. It keeps things transactional.” Fuck, he sees right through me. “But I’ve got money. I don’t need yours if that’s the problem.”
I softly ask, “What do you need?” I immediately fear the answer.
Santo blurts out, “You. What we had. I looked forward to it. To seeing you. To spending time with you. You don’t know this, but you helped get me out of a bad place.” I fight the urge to ask about that. And the urge to dive onto the floor and kiss his crisp sneakers. Santiago says, “You are the best relationship I’ve had in three years.” Oh fuck, he always knows what to say to me. “Do you know my favorite moments, Brian?”
I shake my head, afraid to speak.
“When we’d just talk. Like people. Like friends. You learned to appreciate my favorite foods. I got into pro wrestling for you. Remember when you told me about the opportunity to work for the wrestling sites? I loved that. It felt like you were looking out for me. Like trying to help me.”
I whisper, “I was.”
This was a bad idea. Meeting him in person. It’s not fair, you know. Him showing up as Santo. He’s so much more gorgeous than I expected. He’s saying all the right things. He’s being so nice that I don’t want to hurt him. But I have to. I don’t want this. I don’t want romance and sweetness and understanding. I want him to grab me. I want him to drag me to the restroom, shove me in a stall, fuck my brains out, and then go away forever.
That’s what I want. That’s all I want.
Isn’t it?
Santo says, “This was a mistake, wasn’t it? I can read it on your face.”
I’m shocked, “What? What do you mean?”
“Showing you the real me. Coming to you as Santo. Showing up as my normal self. Not marching in here in leather. Acting like Master Steele. I thought about having you come up to my hotel room. Meeting you in gear. Forcing you to strip in the hall for me. Kneel. Crawl into my room. Kiss my black boots. I knew that you wouldn’t be able to resist me.”
“I wouldn’t. So, why didn’t you?”
“Because I figured it wouldn’t last. We’d have a fun afternoon, but it wouldn’t change your mind. I’d leave town and you’d dump me for good.” He’s right. “I wanted to come to you as me. As Santo.” He breathes in deeply. “I’m still Master Steele. I can be that for you whenever you want. But I can be more, Brian. I believe that we can be more. What do you think?”
I don’t answer.
Santo states, “You’re scared.” I nod. He asks, “Why?”
I laugh, “Why not? Why shouldn't I be scared about falling for a character in an online game?"
“I recently learned.” Because of him. “What should I do?”
“Oh, honey, I can’t tell you that. It’s not a legal matter. Discuss it with your psychiatrist.”
I laugh, “Oh, I will. Trust me, I will. Shannon knows all about Master Steele and my feelings toward him. But tell me what you think. As a woman of the world.”
“As a woman, I was moved. It made me smile. Made me feel. I wanted to give him a hug. Maybe that’s a turn off for you. I know you hired him to, well, be dominant. This is not that. This is almost like a love letter. If you want a clean break, it might help or it might not. As your lawyer, I was obliged to tell you. As a woman, I felt like you needed to know. I’d want to.”
I slouch in my chair and stare out the window. “Wow. This is … not what I expected.”
“I didn’t think so. But is it what you want?”
“No, of course not.” I softly add, “Well. Maybe.” I pause. Vanessa waits, letting me process it. What does she care, she’s on the clock. Sorry, that was unkind and unfair. I’m out of sorts. Fortunately, I didn’t say it out loud. I admit, “I don’t know, Vanessa.” I sigh, “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll let you know what I decide to do.”
After I hang up, I march to my office, tea in hand. I hover the cursor over the email. I hesitate. Maybe I should forward it to Shannon first. Let her read it. What’s the point of having a psychiatrist if not to protect you from emotionally traumatizing events. Like a love letter from a man you were involved with for six months. Six months. The longest relationship of my life.
I’m so weak. I open it. If it really is soft and emotional, it might make it easier to forget him. I was attracted to Master Steele, not some emo muscleboy in Houston named Santiago. I read. Oh. It’s not almost like a love letter. It is a real, genuine love letter. It’s the first one I’ve ever received, but I think it’s a great one. No wonder it took him an hour to send it.
I can’t believe it. My ex-findom is smart and sensitive. Six months is a long time for me. Apparently, it was meaningful for him, too. He reminds me of all the interests that we share. He’s willing to end the fin part of our dom-sub relationship. Or up it, if that’s what I want. I should hate this sweet shit, but I don’t. It’s all I can do not to reach out to him. I read it three times. My feelings only get more confused each time through.
What is this guy doing to me?
TWO WEEKS LATER.
“How was your flight, Santo?”
“Good. On-time and they didn’t lose my luggage.”
I laugh, “That’s all we can ask for these days.”
We sit in silence. I’m overwhelmed by him. Even my high-res screen couldn’t do him justice. I’ve seen him naked, but I’ve never been more attracted to him than right now. He’s dressed like a regular guy. Maybe even a bit of a nerd in a loose Superman tee, jeans, and red Chuck’s. No one but me would suspect he’s also Master Steele.
Just like a superhero with a secret identity. My very own superhero … no. Stay strong.
I’ve never had anyone cross the street for me before. My own parents call me once a year on my birthday and have the staff send me a Christmas card. This man flew a thousand miles (give or take, I’m not a fucking map app) to see me. It has me worked up. I’ve channeled my feelings into the best art of my life. Only one piece. Half done. But I’m excited about it.
Shannon thinks this meeting will be good for me. A breakthrough.
At this moment, I think she’s nuts.
Santo speaks, “Thanks for agreeing to meet me, Brian. Lemme start by saying that I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For whatever I did. I know I can be intense. Demanding. This will sound stupid, but I thought I could read you. See into you. Know what you want and need. It felt like a deeper connection than I’ve had with other subs.” I nod. He continues, “I guess that made me cocky. I guess I went too far. With the domination. With the money. But I don’t care about that.”
“The findom doesn’t care about money?”
“I don’t. You found me on the findom site, but I was just on there because I find really good subs there. I’m not some gay-for-pay asshole scamming on guys. I am gay and I’m in it for the experience, not the payday.”
“A man with a heart of gold? C’mon, it was nice to get paid.”
“It was nice for the same reason it was nice for you to pay. It keeps things transactional.” Fuck, he sees right through me. “But I’ve got money. I don’t need yours if that’s the problem.”
I softly ask, “What do you need?” I immediately fear the answer.
Santo blurts out, “You. What we had. I looked forward to it. To seeing you. To spending time with you. You don’t know this, but you helped get me out of a bad place.” I fight the urge to ask about that. And the urge to dive onto the floor and kiss his crisp sneakers. Santiago says, “You are the best relationship I’ve had in three years.” Oh fuck, he always knows what to say to me. “Do you know my favorite moments, Brian?”
I shake my head, afraid to speak.
“When we’d just talk. Like people. Like friends. You learned to appreciate my favorite foods. I got into pro wrestling for you. Remember when you told me about the opportunity to work for the wrestling sites? I loved that. It felt like you were looking out for me. Like trying to help me.”
I whisper, “I was.”
This was a bad idea. Meeting him in person. It’s not fair, you know. Him showing up as Santo. He’s so much more gorgeous than I expected. He’s saying all the right things. He’s being so nice that I don’t want to hurt him. But I have to. I don’t want this. I don’t want romance and sweetness and understanding. I want him to grab me. I want him to drag me to the restroom, shove me in a stall, fuck my brains out, and then go away forever.
That’s what I want. That’s all I want.
Isn’t it?
Santo says, “This was a mistake, wasn’t it? I can read it on your face.”
I’m shocked, “What? What do you mean?”
“Showing you the real me. Coming to you as Santo. Showing up as my normal self. Not marching in here in leather. Acting like Master Steele. I thought about having you come up to my hotel room. Meeting you in gear. Forcing you to strip in the hall for me. Kneel. Crawl into my room. Kiss my black boots. I knew that you wouldn’t be able to resist me.”
“I wouldn’t. So, why didn’t you?”
“Because I figured it wouldn’t last. We’d have a fun afternoon, but it wouldn’t change your mind. I’d leave town and you’d dump me for good.” He’s right. “I wanted to come to you as me. As Santo.” He breathes in deeply. “I’m still Master Steele. I can be that for you whenever you want. But I can be more, Brian. I believe that we can be more. What do you think?”
I don’t answer.
Santo states, “You’re scared.” I nod. He asks, “Why?”
I laugh, “Why not? Why shouldn't I be scared about falling for a character in an online game?"
The gorgeous bodybuilder looks hurt by the comparison.
Master Steele backs up. He commands, “Slowly look up, boy. Take me in. Take all of me in.”
I start at his toes. His feet are huge. Not a surprise. The boots look so fresh. Never worn. The black laces crisscross up his shins into tight bows. His calves are so thick. Maybe 20” of muscle. Fuck. Black knee pads lead my eyes to his bare upper legs. Smooth. Sculpted. As thick as tree trunks. I can only imagine the pain and ecstasy of my head being locked between them in a firm scissors.
I follow the tips of the dangling laces back to his trunks. I’ve seen his cock and balls, but wrapped in spandex, it all looks even bigger. I want to lean forward and lick it, but I know I can’t. The trunks hang low, weighed down by his manhood. The smooth, flat Apollo’s belt is flawless, with deep cuts on either side. I count his abs in my head. Eight. Each one stacked like bricks.
I have to pause. I swallow. Okay, I’m ready to take in his pecs. His perfect pecs. No sculptor has ever made better ones. They’re not bricks, they’re rolling hills. His nipples are dark and erect. Master Steele bounces them for me. I groan, “Yes. Sir.” He knows the effect that that has on me on a computer screen, but in real-life? I could shoot just watching his chest move.
His shoulders are boulders. His traps angle up. And now, I’m at his handsome face. No mask for him. No beard or facial hair to hide his chiseled features. He has such a strong square jaw. Those glistening white teeth. That Roman nose and dark brown, almost black eyes. They’re so intense. He keeps his black hair tightly cropped. I sigh that my trip up his body is over.
“Did you enjoy that, boy?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I can tell.” Master Steele puts his boot against my tenting pouch which is wet with pre-cum. “Stand up and come to the mattresses. It’s time.”
I shake my head to regain my focus. I can finally see the room. Oh. It’s a suite. I guess he was telling the truth. He does have some money. There are two mattresses on the floor against the sofa. The other furniture is pushed to the sides, out of the way. He stands with his hands on his hips on the far side of them, facing me. He looks like the hottest wrestler I could imagine.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look hot, but nothing compared to him. He knew that I’d wear pink for him. He knows me so well. I look back at Master Steele. The bodybuilder looks like the perfect heel. I look like an erotic wrestling jobber. Why?
“Here’s your one job. You can choose to accept, or you can get dressed and leave. You said you wrestle. Even bragged a little bit about how good you are. Time to prove it. You’re going to teach me how to wrestle for those sites you told me about.”
No. No. No. I look at him. I look at my reflection. I look back at him. You son of a bitch. I didn’t think it possible, but he’s found the perfect activity. If he’d only been Master Steele. But no, he had to come to me as himself and now as a sexy wrestler. I can’t resist this. No man could. Fuck! I breathe in, lifting my chest. I roll my shoulders back. I step forward and nod.
“Yes, Sir.”
THE WRESTLING LESSON.
“Lift your arms, Sir. We’ll start with a collar and elbow lockup.”
Master Steele gets into position. We lock up. “Now, you have a choice. If you’re at a place where the wrestling is real, or you’re doing a squash, you can use your full strength. Power me into a hold. Or run me into the wall. Then you can take control. Like if you push me into the wall, you could gut punch me. Throw me on the mattress. Dominate the match by manhandling me, put me in sexy, brutal holds, and ultimately make me submit whenever you want.”
“What’s the other option?”
“If you’re somewhere where the matches are more staged, more even, or you want to extend the action, you would hold back. We’d just push against each other, building a pump, grunting. One of us would take over, but not for a minute or two, and maybe that would be me. You’d match my strength, and we’d go slower, trading holds. You’d sell whatever I do.”
“Let’s do that, boy. Let’s go slow for now.”
I nod and push against him. Steele matches my strength. I grunt. He grunts. I push harder. He actually backs up a step but pushes into me. I go back two steps to the edge of the mattress. His muscles feel amazing. And his power. The bodybuilder is the strongest man I’ve ever wrestled. If he knew what he was doing, I wouldn’t stand a chance. But he doesn’t.
I suddenly twist. He falls forward, enabling me to spin and lock on a side headlock. UNH! I hold his head against my side. I squeeze hard, working it. Steele’s left arm wraps around my waist. His right arm flails. He groans and grunts. FUCK! I smile as he feels the hold. A vein in his forehead appears, his dark skin turning redder. He finally pushes on me, sliding free.
Steele stands tall. He puts a hand to his forehead and shakes his head. I take advantage. I lift my barefoot into his unflexed abs. WHOMP! OOF! He bends forward. I leap up, coming down with my leg behind his head. He goes down, face-first into the mattress. BOOF! He stretches out on his stomach. I roll him onto his back and mount him. He looks up at me, surprised.
I ask, “Never wrestled? Not even Greco-Roman in high school? Or in bed with someone?”
Steele admits, “No. I’ve been watching it the past few months, since you told me about pro wrestling. You know, so we could talk about it. This is my first time doing it.”
I ignore that he started watching wrestling just for me. It makes me want to lean down and kiss him. Instead, I say in a cocky tone, “So, you’re a virgin and I’m popping your cherry?”
Steele surprises me by simply saying, “Yes.” I nod, shaken by his admission and willingness to stay under me right now. He’s not mad at my surprise attack. Not throwing me off. He’s just calmly letting me be in control. The big bodybuilder asks, “What’s next?”
I grin at the handsome bodybuilder. He waits patiently as I shift my legs so I’m sitting on his magnificent chest. It easily supports my weight. He’s so powerful. I grab a handful of his hair. pull his head up and roll to the left. He obediently follows, his face sliding up to nestle against my bulge. I close up my legs, lock my ankles, and extend my legs. Santo finally gets it.
“This is a head scissors. You get the pressure by sticking your legs out. Feel them flexing around your ears and temples? You can do it the other way, but I like to bury my opponent’s face in my bulge. Gives you something to smell, see, and taste while I crush your skull.”
Santo moans, understanding the trouble I’ve put him in. He feels up my quads and thighs. It’s nice. His dark brown forehead turns a little redder from the force of my legs. His moaning has my dick swelling. I wonder if I could submit him right now? That’d be a lesson. Instead, I remind him, “You’re supposed to break these holds. Yes, suffer a bit, but it’s time to escape.”
The musclehunk growls and pushes on my legs. That doesn’t work. He tries to roll me. I fight to keep him down, but Santo is too strong. He gets me on my back with my legs up. The big bodybuilder manages to rise up to his knees. I’m arching back, my shoulders and head are my only body part on the mattress. He plants one foot and I think he’s going to stand. I don’t want to be hanging from his neck, so I open up, letting go.
Santo shakes out his head. I draw my knees to my chest then kick out, hitting him in his stomach. WHOMP! OOF! My bare feet sink in, and all the air leaves his body. The sudden and surprising impact sends him back. His plant leg goes back, and he gasps on hands and knees. I reach up and grab behind his head. I pull him forward, driving his head into the mattress. BOOF! I secure a front facelock and add a controlling body scissors.
“Have to keep those abs tight at all times, boy.” My eyes go wide as the ‘boy’ just slips out. I don’t know where it came from. Surprisingly, the big bodybuilder doesn’t react. I hold him and he just takes it. On my back, I crank on his head. I look up his broad back as it arches to relieve the force on his neck. He’s kneeling and hunched, his hands resting on either side of me.
After a minute of enjoying his helpless moaning, I tell him, “C’mon, you’ve been trapped long enough. At least try to break free. Last time I’m going to remind you. Next time, I’m just going to submit you and go home.”
Maybe it’s my authoritative tone or the threat of leaving, but that gets a reaction from the big bodybuilder. Santo puts one hand on my left bicep and easily forces it to the mattress. He grips my right shoulder. He pushes up. I fight to hold him, but the force on my arm and shoulder hold me down. His head pops out. I open my legs and he slides back, shaking out his head.
I decide not to wait. The kneeling muscleman doesn’t attack, so I do. I kick him in the gut again. WHOMP! This time, he’s flexing, so he barely feels it. I crunch up and swat his head. WHACK! Annoyed, Santo instinctively reaches for my hand, which is exactly what I wanted him to do. I grab his wrist and fall back. As I pull him to me by his wrist, I lift my legs and wrap them around his head.
“You’re trapped, boy. This is called a triangle choke. Give or go out.” Santo growls and flexes his arm. He curls it, overpowering my two arms with his one. He plants a foot and rises. I’m lifted off the mattress, hanging off him. Okay. I can’t put him out and he’s not going to give.
I pull my head up higher then let go of his arm. I propel my torso down. I fall into a handstand as I crunch and pull with my legs using all I’ve got and gravity. The bodybuilder could probably resist, but he doesn’t have any wrestling savvy at all. I successfully flip Santo. He somersaults over and lands on his back. BOOF! I land back on his chest, looking down at him with a grin.
Santo bridges up and throws me off. I fall onto my side. The bodybuilder tackles me down. I can’t stop him, it’s like being hit by a Mack truck! He easily manhandles me onto my back, sitting on my stomach and pinning my wrists. His incredible cock is tenting trunks. I’ve seen it many times but being this close to it is so much better. I want him to fuck me so bad. Fuck!
Am I making a mistake? Should I let him dominate me from here on out?
I say, “You’re on top, but this doesn’t really do anything. What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know. At least you’re under control while I’m figuring things out.”
I’m feeling cocky, seeing the gorgeous muscle god confused and questioning himself. “If you want more time, you could sit on my cock and fuck yourself while you think. I’d love to see you bouncing on my dick, boy.”
Santo looks down, “Don’t think I’m not hearing you call me ‘boy’, boy. I just don’t care at this particular moment. We both know if I wanted to, I could have you begging me to fuck you.”
“You don’t want to fuck me?”
“Oh, I’ll fuck you. After you’ve finished your job.”
I take that as a challenge. Like I’ve said, I’m a sub-bottom, but I’m a weird alpha version. I’m the expert on wrestling. All Santo has is lots and lots of sexy muscle. He doesn’t know how to use it. I bring my leg up and hit his butt and back with my upper leg. THUD! THUD! THUD! It doesn’t hurt him, but after three, he turns. That lifts his hands. I easily pull my arms free.
Santo turns back. I grab the sides of his huge pecs. My fingers dig in. He grunts and grips my wrists. I smile up at him, “Pec claw. Be glad I didn’t go with my first choice.” I bounce my eyebrows, “Balls.” The bodybuilder grunts. Yes, he can handle this. However, I realize that he’s not just a complete novice, Santo is also easily distracted by whatever I’m doing at the moment.
I plant my feet and bridge. I can’t get his 230-lbs too high, so I bounce him. I taunt, “Not too late to hop on my cock, boy.” Santo stops trying to pry my hands from his pecs and looks down at me. I bet he’s hard, but I can’t look. I need to stare into his beautiful eyes. One. Two. Three. I thrust up, twist my hips, and pull on the pec claw. Santo falls off me and I roll on top of him. With a new angle. I amp up the pec claw on the big bodybuilder. UNH! He feels it.
I lean into the hold. Sliding my hips back, I go for a direct challenge. I push my package down onto his and pump my hips, dry humping him. He’s hard as a rock under me. Santo meets my challenge. He pushes back against me. His mouth is agape, his jaw slack and I see a little drool in the corner. He moans as we mash cocks. His chest unflexes and I dig my fingers deeper.
Santo is whimpering under me. My alpha is folding. He’s really giving into my control. I don’t know if it’s my teacher role or what, but I can literally feel how much he’s loving my dominance. I twist on the pec claw. OW! The muscleman looks shocked at the pain, remembering where he is and what he’s doing. He easily bucks up and throws me off. I lose the claw, but it’s okay.
The beautiful bodybuilder rolls up to his knees. He pauses to adjust his amazing manhood in his trunks. Fuck. I teach him another lesson. “No timeouts in wrestling, boy.” I tackle the unprepared muscleman to the mattress. WHAM! BOOF! He throws me off and rolls over. I’m on him immediately. He tosses me away. I come back at him. He retreats. I attack.
There’s nowhere for Santo to go. I’m relentlessly keeping the pressure up. I grab an armlock. He powers out. Headlock. He suffers for a moment but powers out. Back to his arm. He flexes and I can’t get a hold on. A choke. He flips me off. Santo crawls away. He’s sweaty and breathing hard from the fast-paced attack. I grab a leg. Ankle lock. A cry of pain before he escapes by kicking his mighty leg.
Santo tries to stand. I clip his knee. He crashes down. PLOP! The bodybuilder gets onto hands and knees. I come in hot. I jump on his back rolling us with me on my back under his 230-lbs. I force him into a full nelson and wrap my legs around his waist in a controlling body scissors. His shoulders are loose, and I manage to lock my fingers behind his head.
I squeeze with all I’ve got. His shoulders are so thick that I can’t break them, but maybe I can be a pain in his neck. I mean that literally. I’ve got his chin pressing into his body. I am pushing on the back of his head. And he’s not fighting me. Santo is suffering. He’s groaning. And breathing heavy. His sweaty body is limp in the hold. I ask, “Giving up, boy?”
A firm, “No.”
Santo’s not giving, but he’s tiring and helpless. He finally flexes his upper body. A double bicep flex with a lat spread and my fingers are pulled apart. The muscleman brings his arms to his side, pinning my forearms between his triceps and lats. He leans his head to the right. I slide mine to the left as he relaxes on me. I kiss his neck and ear. He moans happily.
As much as I’m enjoying this, we’re wrestling and I’m winning. My competitive spirit kicks in. I tighten my body scissors. He moans, but in a way that loves it. I order, “Sit up, boy, I’m not your mattress.” He groans in disappointment, but he obeys. With him sitting, I change the position of the body scissors. I squeeze and he gasps in shock and pain. He grips my shins.
Santo whimpers, “How?”
I taunt him, “Every guy, even you, boy, has a soft spot somewhere under the ribs. I just needed to find yours. Bearhugs. Scissors. Just needed to find your weak spot.”
The big bodybuilder doesn’t know what to do. He tries to pry my legs apart, but my ankles are locked. He could grab a toe, but he doesn’t think of that. I enjoy looking at his broad back while listening to his pained grunts as he desperately searches for a way out. I make him feel it as much as I can, but he’s not going to give to this. I think I can get a submission out of him in a couple more moves, though.
I punch his kidneys hard. THUD! My fists bounce off his back, not penetrating the muscle. That’s okay, because he reacts by twisting and reaching back. I grab his right wrist and force his arm up into a hammerlock. ARGH! The musclebound hunk isn’t flexible. He cries out, feeling it as I force his hand to his shoulder blade. And unlike Santo, I’m able to do two things at once, so I keep the body scissors tight.
At this angle, my two arms are stronger than his one. When I squeeze harder on the body scissors, he arches his back toward me. Santo’s lack of experience serves me again. I’m able to hold the hammerlock with one hand while I whip my other arm around his neck and pull him back down on top of me. I can pull my hand away, because the hammerlock is locked in, sandwiched between us, his arm pinned by his own weight.
I slap on a rear naked choke. With his one free arm, Santo tries to pry my arms from his neck, but he can’t. I growl in his ear, “Sorry, boy, I’ve fallen behind on the lessons. That’s a hammerlock tearing up your right shoulder.” I squeeze my legs, “By now, you understand the body scissors. But what you really need to worry about is the chokehold I’m applying.”
Santo whimpers, but he can’t do anything but moan. I feel him trying to free his trapped arm, but that just means he stops fighting the choke. His legs are the most powerful muscles he has, but he doesn’t use them. They’re just lying on the mattress like fallen redwoods. Basically, it’s me with three holds versus him using one hand, all his muscle and power neutralized.
“Some people call this choke a sleeper. As you can see, your strength is useless, boy. There are only two things you can do. You can tap like a good boy, or you can wake up alone after a nice nap. Your choice. I’ll give you five seconds to decide.”
Santo doesn’t need even one second. He taps my arm, submitting to me. I immediately release him from the choke and scissors. I push his body and he rolls off me, lying on his stomach. He’s unmoving, just a sweaty, muscular carcass.
I admire his amazing body, even though I’m confused by my behavior and his. Santo finally rolls onto his back. His cock is rock-hard in his black trunks.
What’s going on?
THE BREAK.
Santo moans, “I didn’t realize that wrestling is so complex. There’s a lot going on at once.”
“I didn’t believe you when you said that you’d never wrestled. I figured you must have, even if it was just play with friends. Or partners in bed. You said your brother is only two years younger, so you and he might have scrapped. But I believe you now. You’ve really never wrestled.”
“I haven’t. Watching the WWL and AWL on TV is the first time I really seen it. I also bought a few videos from those sites you told me about. BIGBeast, Lightning’s Ring, and that superhero-themed one. It looks easier on the videos.”
“Yeah, guys at those sites who are half your size would eat you alive.” The bodybuilder looks away, ashamed. I feel bad. My dom looks more like an adorable puppy dog than a big bad master. “I’m sorry if that sounded harsh. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“It’s okay. I need to hear it. I deserve to hear it.” Santo asks earnestly, “I’ve been trained to focus in one way, but wrestling is the opposite.” Wait. What does that mean? “I have to reset my brain. Do you think there any hope for me to learn?”
I smile, “Well, muscle jobbers who get crushed are popular, too.” He frowns. Fuck, he’s so cute when he pouts. I reassure him, “Don’t feel bad. A few months of watching wrestling doesn’t prepare you for anything. You have to try it. Practice. Learn. Just not in an afternoon.” I ask, “Never even in a fight? I thought big guys like you got challenged all the time.”
“I can box a little. I throw one punch and guys back off, even if I miss. But mostly, I’ve stayed out of trouble my whole life.”
“Good for you.”
The muscleman says seriously, “It was for survival. I grew up in a part of Chicago where guys don’t fight. They shoot.” My eyes go wide. He says, “And I grew up undocumented. Came here when I was five. I’m a citizen now, but my parents told me to avoid trouble at all costs. It meant I had to back down and run from fights most of my life.”
“Wow, I’m sorry. I guess I don’t think enough about what other people have gone through.”
“Don’t apologize.” Santo says, “It’s how I ended up as a bodybuilder. The gym was my safe space from the gangs, the law, and depression. I’d go to the gym after school for hours. Watching. Working out. Hanging. Guys were really nice. A lot of them wanted to fuck or be fucked, which suited me. School, gym, church, and home. That was my entire world.”
I can’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t sound stupid. As we sit in silence. I look around the hotel room. This suite must be expensive, even if he got a weekend deal or something. And the flight. His food. Transportation. Shit, he really invested in this trip. I don’t know how much cash I have on me. Maybe I can make a deal at the front desk to pay for the room on my card.
Santo reads my mind, “Don’t even think about it, Brian. I told you that I don’t need money.”
I nod, “I’m sorry.” I have a million questions for him, but I don’t ask. He’ll tell me if he wants to. I tell him, “Thanks for sharing all that. I can tell it still affects you.”
“It does. It will always be a part of who I am, but I’ve been … I don’t know the right word to describe what I’ve been through. I’ll just say that things have changed. I can take care of myself, my parents, and my brother now.”
“I’m happy to hear that.”
Santo sits up, “What can I do about the wrestling?”
“There are lots of power moves you can do, but a lot of them are meant for a ring.” I slide over and straddle his waist as I push him down. BOOF! I sit on his cock. He lets out a small moan. “Here are a couple of tips. One, you’ve got to try harder. You’re tentative. You don’t resist the hold. It’s sexy, but you need to keep struggling. And eventually, you need to escape. As you saw, your power alone will counter most holds, even if you don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I can do that. I enjoyed being in most of the holds. Until you threatened to knock me out. Could you really have done that?”
“Yes, I could have, but I wouldn’t. Two, use your legs. They’re tree trunks. Keep them moving.”
Santo nods, “Okay. I just know how big I am. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I appreciate that, so I’ll add tip number three. Don’t be scared. I’m not fragile. I’m not easy to break. You need to hurt me a little if you expect to win. I’m not submitting to you sitting on me.” Santo nods. I pat his pecs, “Ready to go again? Best two-out-of-three.” Shit, he’s really wrapped me around his finger. I’m offering to keep going instead of just leaving.
The muscleman agrees, “I’d love to try again. In the porn wrestling, the loser often gets fucked. Would you be open to that? I’m on PrEP and tested before coming here.”
I’m surprised, “What if I win?” I feel his cock twitch under me as he smiles. I shrug, “Okay. Sex stakes. I’m ready to go, too. I thought we might end up … well, I didn’t expect wrestling, but I’m ready, too.” I roll off him and help him rise. I see what I was sitting on. Fuck. I playfully run my finger along the outline. “Your trunks are going to rip if you don’t control that monster.”
Santo laughs, “If they do, they do. I don’t think there’s any hope for me controlling it.”
I trace my finger up his abs. “Oh, you have something on your chest.” The bodybuilder looks down. I whip my finger up under his nose. FLICK! His head pops back. I grin, “Tip number four. Don’t ever trust your opponent, let your guard own, or fall for obvious tricks or distractions.”
I feel like shit and immediately correct myself, "I mean, I know you’re not a character in a game. You’re a man. A real man. An amazing man. But Master Steele is a character for you." He nods, admitting it. "And he was a character for me. Our whole thing. It’s called play for a reason. It’s not life. Our relationship wasn't supposed to be real. Games should be diversions. Nothing more. If they start to interfere with life, they need to end.”
“If you feel that way, why did you agree to meet with me?”
I sigh, “Why do you think? Because I’m weak. Because you’re amazing. Perfect, to be honest. I never expected to find anyone like you. The others were all musclebound idiots and ‘straight’ assholes. Easy to drop them after a few sessions. I never came close to loving any of them.” Santo opens his mouth to speak, but I stop him, “I said, ‘close’. I’m not in love with you.”
“Close doesn’t make you curious?”
I warn him, “If you make me love you, you will end up regretting it.”
“Would you be happier if I went upstairs, flew home, and never reached out again?”
“Happier? No. Definitely not.”
“But you still want me to do that? To go away and out of your life.” I nod. “Fine. I will. But first, I want you to do something for me.”
“What?”
“Come upstairs.”
I shake my head, “No, you were right. That is a bad idea.”
Santo stands up. “Come upstairs, boy. See what I want from you. If you're not interested, you can always leave.”
I turn my head to avoid looking at him and softly reply, “We both know I won't.”
“Look at me, boy.” I turn and lift my head. He bounces his pecs under his Superman tee. I groan. He commands, “I have one job I'd like you to do. Come with me.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy.”
SANTIAGO’S HOTEL ROOM.
The elevator ride up takes so long. My cock throbs inside my jeans. My underwear pouch is soaked with pre-cum and it’ll soon move through the denim. Maybe it already has. I’m afraid to look. When the door opens, I hesitate. Santiago turns with a raised eyebrow, “Coming?” I nod, but don’t move. "Do I need to carry you?" I nod. The bodybuilder grabs me and lifts me over his shoulder, carrying me caveman style. I’m groaning the whole walk down the hallway. Of course he's in the last room.
It’s so humiliating and so hot.
My ex-findom carries me inside. He kicks the door shut. He lowers me to my feet then pushes me face first against the door. SLAM! His weight presses on top of me. I moan. He grinds his bulge on my ass. Owns me. For real. His hot breath hits my ear. “One job.” I nod. When he backs off, I relax on the door, I close my eyes. A mask comes over my head. I open my eyes. Everything is black. Santo spins me around. I grip his arms for stability. “Relax, boy. You will strip. Leave only the mask and your underwear on. Take four steps forward. Kneel. Wait. Are you good?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m good.”
Master Steele grabs my left wrist. He puts my palm on his pec. I whimper. My hand shakes. It’s so solid. He slides my hand across his chest then out to a wall. “If you get twisted while stripping, feel for the door and feel for this wall. You won’t hit anything if you follow this wall. There is a couch cushion on the floor for you to kneel on. You will feel it. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir. Where will you be?”
“Not far. I have to get changed, boy. It will take me longer to get ready than it will for you to get naked. Kneel. Wait. Silently.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I take my time stripping down. I untie my shoes, rather than kicking them off. I brace myself as I peel off my socks. I remove my belt, rather than doing it with my pants. As I work, I can’t really hear him, but he must be able to see me. Santo watching me get ready in-person turns me on. I get down to my pink briefs that are open in back. He always loves me in bright colors. Pink is his fave.
I find the wall and walk forward. Four normal steps. My foot finds the cushion. I lower myself to my knees because he ordered me to. Hands behind my back. I bow my head and breathe in and out. I’m glad my mouth is exposed. Slowly. I relax. My cock is straining my briefs. I can feel the wetness on its head. I’m such a slut. An afternoon getting dominated. Good. Games are much better than reality. Play is better than talking.
I hear him moving toward me. Heavy steps. He’s in boots. I love his boots. I hope he chose black. I hope he lets my polish them with my tongue. I breathe in. I feel his boot slide under my balls. He lifts the toe and bounces them on his boot. I gasp. He pulls up on the mask, raising my head. The tapping under my balls continues as he caresses my head. It’s heaven.
Master Steele says, “You’re in my room. The room I paid for. Like you said, the man who pays is the real boss. I don’t work for you anymore, boy. This afternoon, you’re gonna work for me.”
The mask comes off. I’m staring at his crotch. His bulging, massive cock and balls. He’s wearing black spandex briefs with white laces hanging out the front. Almost like wrestling trunks. “Head down.” I drop my head. He’s wearing tall, lace-up, black leather boots. They’re shiny and tight on his calves. They’re pro wrestling boots. I own enough pair to know.
“If you feel that way, why did you agree to meet with me?”
I sigh, “Why do you think? Because I’m weak. Because you’re amazing. Perfect, to be honest. I never expected to find anyone like you. The others were all musclebound idiots and ‘straight’ assholes. Easy to drop them after a few sessions. I never came close to loving any of them.” Santo opens his mouth to speak, but I stop him, “I said, ‘close’. I’m not in love with you.”
“Close doesn’t make you curious?”
I warn him, “If you make me love you, you will end up regretting it.”
“Would you be happier if I went upstairs, flew home, and never reached out again?”
“Happier? No. Definitely not.”
“But you still want me to do that? To go away and out of your life.” I nod. “Fine. I will. But first, I want you to do something for me.”
“What?”
“Come upstairs.”
I shake my head, “No, you were right. That is a bad idea.”
Santo stands up. “Come upstairs, boy. See what I want from you. If you're not interested, you can always leave.”
I turn my head to avoid looking at him and softly reply, “We both know I won't.”
“Look at me, boy.” I turn and lift my head. He bounces his pecs under his Superman tee. I groan. He commands, “I have one job I'd like you to do. Come with me.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good boy.”
SANTIAGO’S HOTEL ROOM.
The elevator ride up takes so long. My cock throbs inside my jeans. My underwear pouch is soaked with pre-cum and it’ll soon move through the denim. Maybe it already has. I’m afraid to look. When the door opens, I hesitate. Santiago turns with a raised eyebrow, “Coming?” I nod, but don’t move. "Do I need to carry you?" I nod. The bodybuilder grabs me and lifts me over his shoulder, carrying me caveman style. I’m groaning the whole walk down the hallway. Of course he's in the last room.
It’s so humiliating and so hot.
My ex-findom carries me inside. He kicks the door shut. He lowers me to my feet then pushes me face first against the door. SLAM! His weight presses on top of me. I moan. He grinds his bulge on my ass. Owns me. For real. His hot breath hits my ear. “One job.” I nod. When he backs off, I relax on the door, I close my eyes. A mask comes over my head. I open my eyes. Everything is black. Santo spins me around. I grip his arms for stability. “Relax, boy. You will strip. Leave only the mask and your underwear on. Take four steps forward. Kneel. Wait. Are you good?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m good.”
Master Steele grabs my left wrist. He puts my palm on his pec. I whimper. My hand shakes. It’s so solid. He slides my hand across his chest then out to a wall. “If you get twisted while stripping, feel for the door and feel for this wall. You won’t hit anything if you follow this wall. There is a couch cushion on the floor for you to kneel on. You will feel it. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir. Where will you be?”
“Not far. I have to get changed, boy. It will take me longer to get ready than it will for you to get naked. Kneel. Wait. Silently.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I take my time stripping down. I untie my shoes, rather than kicking them off. I brace myself as I peel off my socks. I remove my belt, rather than doing it with my pants. As I work, I can’t really hear him, but he must be able to see me. Santo watching me get ready in-person turns me on. I get down to my pink briefs that are open in back. He always loves me in bright colors. Pink is his fave.
I find the wall and walk forward. Four normal steps. My foot finds the cushion. I lower myself to my knees because he ordered me to. Hands behind my back. I bow my head and breathe in and out. I’m glad my mouth is exposed. Slowly. I relax. My cock is straining my briefs. I can feel the wetness on its head. I’m such a slut. An afternoon getting dominated. Good. Games are much better than reality. Play is better than talking.
I hear him moving toward me. Heavy steps. He’s in boots. I love his boots. I hope he chose black. I hope he lets my polish them with my tongue. I breathe in. I feel his boot slide under my balls. He lifts the toe and bounces them on his boot. I gasp. He pulls up on the mask, raising my head. The tapping under my balls continues as he caresses my head. It’s heaven.
Master Steele says, “You’re in my room. The room I paid for. Like you said, the man who pays is the real boss. I don’t work for you anymore, boy. This afternoon, you’re gonna work for me.”
The mask comes off. I’m staring at his crotch. His bulging, massive cock and balls. He’s wearing black spandex briefs with white laces hanging out the front. Almost like wrestling trunks. “Head down.” I drop my head. He’s wearing tall, lace-up, black leather boots. They’re shiny and tight on his calves. They’re pro wrestling boots. I own enough pair to know.
Master Steele backs up. He commands, “Slowly look up, boy. Take me in. Take all of me in.”
I follow the tips of the dangling laces back to his trunks. I’ve seen his cock and balls, but wrapped in spandex, it all looks even bigger. I want to lean forward and lick it, but I know I can’t. The trunks hang low, weighed down by his manhood. The smooth, flat Apollo’s belt is flawless, with deep cuts on either side. I count his abs in my head. Eight. Each one stacked like bricks.
I have to pause. I swallow. Okay, I’m ready to take in his pecs. His perfect pecs. No sculptor has ever made better ones. They’re not bricks, they’re rolling hills. His nipples are dark and erect. Master Steele bounces them for me. I groan, “Yes. Sir.” He knows the effect that that has on me on a computer screen, but in real-life? I could shoot just watching his chest move.
His shoulders are boulders. His traps angle up. And now, I’m at his handsome face. No mask for him. No beard or facial hair to hide his chiseled features. He has such a strong square jaw. Those glistening white teeth. That Roman nose and dark brown, almost black eyes. They’re so intense. He keeps his black hair tightly cropped. I sigh that my trip up his body is over.
“Did you enjoy that, boy?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I can tell.” Master Steele puts his boot against my tenting pouch which is wet with pre-cum. “Stand up and come to the mattresses. It’s time.”
I shake my head to regain my focus. I can finally see the room. Oh. It’s a suite. I guess he was telling the truth. He does have some money. There are two mattresses on the floor against the sofa. The other furniture is pushed to the sides, out of the way. He stands with his hands on his hips on the far side of them, facing me. He looks like the hottest wrestler I could imagine.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look hot, but nothing compared to him. He knew that I’d wear pink for him. He knows me so well. I look back at Master Steele. The bodybuilder looks like the perfect heel. I look like an erotic wrestling jobber. Why?
No. No. No. I look at him. I look at my reflection. I look back at him. You son of a bitch. I didn’t think it possible, but he’s found the perfect activity. If he’d only been Master Steele. But no, he had to come to me as himself and now as a sexy wrestler. I can’t resist this. No man could. Fuck! I breathe in, lifting my chest. I roll my shoulders back. I step forward and nod.
“Yes, Sir.”
THE WRESTLING LESSON.
“Lift your arms, Sir. We’ll start with a collar and elbow lockup.”
Master Steele gets into position. We lock up. “Now, you have a choice. If you’re at a place where the wrestling is real, or you’re doing a squash, you can use your full strength. Power me into a hold. Or run me into the wall. Then you can take control. Like if you push me into the wall, you could gut punch me. Throw me on the mattress. Dominate the match by manhandling me, put me in sexy, brutal holds, and ultimately make me submit whenever you want.”
“What’s the other option?”
“If you’re somewhere where the matches are more staged, more even, or you want to extend the action, you would hold back. We’d just push against each other, building a pump, grunting. One of us would take over, but not for a minute or two, and maybe that would be me. You’d match my strength, and we’d go slower, trading holds. You’d sell whatever I do.”
“Let’s do that, boy. Let’s go slow for now.”
I nod and push against him. Steele matches my strength. I grunt. He grunts. I push harder. He actually backs up a step but pushes into me. I go back two steps to the edge of the mattress. His muscles feel amazing. And his power. The bodybuilder is the strongest man I’ve ever wrestled. If he knew what he was doing, I wouldn’t stand a chance. But he doesn’t.
I suddenly twist. He falls forward, enabling me to spin and lock on a side headlock. UNH! I hold his head against my side. I squeeze hard, working it. Steele’s left arm wraps around my waist. His right arm flails. He groans and grunts. FUCK! I smile as he feels the hold. A vein in his forehead appears, his dark skin turning redder. He finally pushes on me, sliding free.
Steele stands tall. He puts a hand to his forehead and shakes his head. I take advantage. I lift my barefoot into his unflexed abs. WHOMP! OOF! He bends forward. I leap up, coming down with my leg behind his head. He goes down, face-first into the mattress. BOOF! He stretches out on his stomach. I roll him onto his back and mount him. He looks up at me, surprised.
I ask, “Never wrestled? Not even Greco-Roman in high school? Or in bed with someone?”
Steele admits, “No. I’ve been watching it the past few months, since you told me about pro wrestling. You know, so we could talk about it. This is my first time doing it.”
I ignore that he started watching wrestling just for me. It makes me want to lean down and kiss him. Instead, I say in a cocky tone, “So, you’re a virgin and I’m popping your cherry?”
Steele surprises me by simply saying, “Yes.” I nod, shaken by his admission and willingness to stay under me right now. He’s not mad at my surprise attack. Not throwing me off. He’s just calmly letting me be in control. The big bodybuilder asks, “What’s next?”
I grin at the handsome bodybuilder. He waits patiently as I shift my legs so I’m sitting on his magnificent chest. It easily supports my weight. He’s so powerful. I grab a handful of his hair. pull his head up and roll to the left. He obediently follows, his face sliding up to nestle against my bulge. I close up my legs, lock my ankles, and extend my legs. Santo finally gets it.
“This is a head scissors. You get the pressure by sticking your legs out. Feel them flexing around your ears and temples? You can do it the other way, but I like to bury my opponent’s face in my bulge. Gives you something to smell, see, and taste while I crush your skull.”
Santo moans, understanding the trouble I’ve put him in. He feels up my quads and thighs. It’s nice. His dark brown forehead turns a little redder from the force of my legs. His moaning has my dick swelling. I wonder if I could submit him right now? That’d be a lesson. Instead, I remind him, “You’re supposed to break these holds. Yes, suffer a bit, but it’s time to escape.”
The musclehunk growls and pushes on my legs. That doesn’t work. He tries to roll me. I fight to keep him down, but Santo is too strong. He gets me on my back with my legs up. The big bodybuilder manages to rise up to his knees. I’m arching back, my shoulders and head are my only body part on the mattress. He plants one foot and I think he’s going to stand. I don’t want to be hanging from his neck, so I open up, letting go.
Santo shakes out his head. I draw my knees to my chest then kick out, hitting him in his stomach. WHOMP! OOF! My bare feet sink in, and all the air leaves his body. The sudden and surprising impact sends him back. His plant leg goes back, and he gasps on hands and knees. I reach up and grab behind his head. I pull him forward, driving his head into the mattress. BOOF! I secure a front facelock and add a controlling body scissors.
“Have to keep those abs tight at all times, boy.” My eyes go wide as the ‘boy’ just slips out. I don’t know where it came from. Surprisingly, the big bodybuilder doesn’t react. I hold him and he just takes it. On my back, I crank on his head. I look up his broad back as it arches to relieve the force on his neck. He’s kneeling and hunched, his hands resting on either side of me.
After a minute of enjoying his helpless moaning, I tell him, “C’mon, you’ve been trapped long enough. At least try to break free. Last time I’m going to remind you. Next time, I’m just going to submit you and go home.”
Maybe it’s my authoritative tone or the threat of leaving, but that gets a reaction from the big bodybuilder. Santo puts one hand on my left bicep and easily forces it to the mattress. He grips my right shoulder. He pushes up. I fight to hold him, but the force on my arm and shoulder hold me down. His head pops out. I open my legs and he slides back, shaking out his head.
I decide not to wait. The kneeling muscleman doesn’t attack, so I do. I kick him in the gut again. WHOMP! This time, he’s flexing, so he barely feels it. I crunch up and swat his head. WHACK! Annoyed, Santo instinctively reaches for my hand, which is exactly what I wanted him to do. I grab his wrist and fall back. As I pull him to me by his wrist, I lift my legs and wrap them around his head.
“You’re trapped, boy. This is called a triangle choke. Give or go out.” Santo growls and flexes his arm. He curls it, overpowering my two arms with his one. He plants a foot and rises. I’m lifted off the mattress, hanging off him. Okay. I can’t put him out and he’s not going to give.
I pull my head up higher then let go of his arm. I propel my torso down. I fall into a handstand as I crunch and pull with my legs using all I’ve got and gravity. The bodybuilder could probably resist, but he doesn’t have any wrestling savvy at all. I successfully flip Santo. He somersaults over and lands on his back. BOOF! I land back on his chest, looking down at him with a grin.
Santo bridges up and throws me off. I fall onto my side. The bodybuilder tackles me down. I can’t stop him, it’s like being hit by a Mack truck! He easily manhandles me onto my back, sitting on my stomach and pinning my wrists. His incredible cock is tenting trunks. I’ve seen it many times but being this close to it is so much better. I want him to fuck me so bad. Fuck!
Am I making a mistake? Should I let him dominate me from here on out?
I say, “You’re on top, but this doesn’t really do anything. What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know. At least you’re under control while I’m figuring things out.”
I’m feeling cocky, seeing the gorgeous muscle god confused and questioning himself. “If you want more time, you could sit on my cock and fuck yourself while you think. I’d love to see you bouncing on my dick, boy.”
Santo looks down, “Don’t think I’m not hearing you call me ‘boy’, boy. I just don’t care at this particular moment. We both know if I wanted to, I could have you begging me to fuck you.”
“You don’t want to fuck me?”
“Oh, I’ll fuck you. After you’ve finished your job.”
I take that as a challenge. Like I’ve said, I’m a sub-bottom, but I’m a weird alpha version. I’m the expert on wrestling. All Santo has is lots and lots of sexy muscle. He doesn’t know how to use it. I bring my leg up and hit his butt and back with my upper leg. THUD! THUD! THUD! It doesn’t hurt him, but after three, he turns. That lifts his hands. I easily pull my arms free.
Santo turns back. I grab the sides of his huge pecs. My fingers dig in. He grunts and grips my wrists. I smile up at him, “Pec claw. Be glad I didn’t go with my first choice.” I bounce my eyebrows, “Balls.” The bodybuilder grunts. Yes, he can handle this. However, I realize that he’s not just a complete novice, Santo is also easily distracted by whatever I’m doing at the moment.
I plant my feet and bridge. I can’t get his 230-lbs too high, so I bounce him. I taunt, “Not too late to hop on my cock, boy.” Santo stops trying to pry my hands from his pecs and looks down at me. I bet he’s hard, but I can’t look. I need to stare into his beautiful eyes. One. Two. Three. I thrust up, twist my hips, and pull on the pec claw. Santo falls off me and I roll on top of him. With a new angle. I amp up the pec claw on the big bodybuilder. UNH! He feels it.
I lean into the hold. Sliding my hips back, I go for a direct challenge. I push my package down onto his and pump my hips, dry humping him. He’s hard as a rock under me. Santo meets my challenge. He pushes back against me. His mouth is agape, his jaw slack and I see a little drool in the corner. He moans as we mash cocks. His chest unflexes and I dig my fingers deeper.
Santo is whimpering under me. My alpha is folding. He’s really giving into my control. I don’t know if it’s my teacher role or what, but I can literally feel how much he’s loving my dominance. I twist on the pec claw. OW! The muscleman looks shocked at the pain, remembering where he is and what he’s doing. He easily bucks up and throws me off. I lose the claw, but it’s okay.
The beautiful bodybuilder rolls up to his knees. He pauses to adjust his amazing manhood in his trunks. Fuck. I teach him another lesson. “No timeouts in wrestling, boy.” I tackle the unprepared muscleman to the mattress. WHAM! BOOF! He throws me off and rolls over. I’m on him immediately. He tosses me away. I come back at him. He retreats. I attack.
There’s nowhere for Santo to go. I’m relentlessly keeping the pressure up. I grab an armlock. He powers out. Headlock. He suffers for a moment but powers out. Back to his arm. He flexes and I can’t get a hold on. A choke. He flips me off. Santo crawls away. He’s sweaty and breathing hard from the fast-paced attack. I grab a leg. Ankle lock. A cry of pain before he escapes by kicking his mighty leg.
Santo tries to stand. I clip his knee. He crashes down. PLOP! The bodybuilder gets onto hands and knees. I come in hot. I jump on his back rolling us with me on my back under his 230-lbs. I force him into a full nelson and wrap my legs around his waist in a controlling body scissors. His shoulders are loose, and I manage to lock my fingers behind his head.
I squeeze with all I’ve got. His shoulders are so thick that I can’t break them, but maybe I can be a pain in his neck. I mean that literally. I’ve got his chin pressing into his body. I am pushing on the back of his head. And he’s not fighting me. Santo is suffering. He’s groaning. And breathing heavy. His sweaty body is limp in the hold. I ask, “Giving up, boy?”
A firm, “No.”
Santo’s not giving, but he’s tiring and helpless. He finally flexes his upper body. A double bicep flex with a lat spread and my fingers are pulled apart. The muscleman brings his arms to his side, pinning my forearms between his triceps and lats. He leans his head to the right. I slide mine to the left as he relaxes on me. I kiss his neck and ear. He moans happily.
As much as I’m enjoying this, we’re wrestling and I’m winning. My competitive spirit kicks in. I tighten my body scissors. He moans, but in a way that loves it. I order, “Sit up, boy, I’m not your mattress.” He groans in disappointment, but he obeys. With him sitting, I change the position of the body scissors. I squeeze and he gasps in shock and pain. He grips my shins.
Santo whimpers, “How?”
I taunt him, “Every guy, even you, boy, has a soft spot somewhere under the ribs. I just needed to find yours. Bearhugs. Scissors. Just needed to find your weak spot.”
The big bodybuilder doesn’t know what to do. He tries to pry my legs apart, but my ankles are locked. He could grab a toe, but he doesn’t think of that. I enjoy looking at his broad back while listening to his pained grunts as he desperately searches for a way out. I make him feel it as much as I can, but he’s not going to give to this. I think I can get a submission out of him in a couple more moves, though.
I punch his kidneys hard. THUD! My fists bounce off his back, not penetrating the muscle. That’s okay, because he reacts by twisting and reaching back. I grab his right wrist and force his arm up into a hammerlock. ARGH! The musclebound hunk isn’t flexible. He cries out, feeling it as I force his hand to his shoulder blade. And unlike Santo, I’m able to do two things at once, so I keep the body scissors tight.
At this angle, my two arms are stronger than his one. When I squeeze harder on the body scissors, he arches his back toward me. Santo’s lack of experience serves me again. I’m able to hold the hammerlock with one hand while I whip my other arm around his neck and pull him back down on top of me. I can pull my hand away, because the hammerlock is locked in, sandwiched between us, his arm pinned by his own weight.
I slap on a rear naked choke. With his one free arm, Santo tries to pry my arms from his neck, but he can’t. I growl in his ear, “Sorry, boy, I’ve fallen behind on the lessons. That’s a hammerlock tearing up your right shoulder.” I squeeze my legs, “By now, you understand the body scissors. But what you really need to worry about is the chokehold I’m applying.”
Santo whimpers, but he can’t do anything but moan. I feel him trying to free his trapped arm, but that just means he stops fighting the choke. His legs are the most powerful muscles he has, but he doesn’t use them. They’re just lying on the mattress like fallen redwoods. Basically, it’s me with three holds versus him using one hand, all his muscle and power neutralized.
“Some people call this choke a sleeper. As you can see, your strength is useless, boy. There are only two things you can do. You can tap like a good boy, or you can wake up alone after a nice nap. Your choice. I’ll give you five seconds to decide.”
Santo doesn’t need even one second. He taps my arm, submitting to me. I immediately release him from the choke and scissors. I push his body and he rolls off me, lying on his stomach. He’s unmoving, just a sweaty, muscular carcass.
I admire his amazing body, even though I’m confused by my behavior and his. Santo finally rolls onto his back. His cock is rock-hard in his black trunks.
What’s going on?
THE BREAK.
Santo moans, “I didn’t realize that wrestling is so complex. There’s a lot going on at once.”
“I didn’t believe you when you said that you’d never wrestled. I figured you must have, even if it was just play with friends. Or partners in bed. You said your brother is only two years younger, so you and he might have scrapped. But I believe you now. You’ve really never wrestled.”
“I haven’t. Watching the WWL and AWL on TV is the first time I really seen it. I also bought a few videos from those sites you told me about. BIGBeast, Lightning’s Ring, and that superhero-themed one. It looks easier on the videos.”
“Yeah, guys at those sites who are half your size would eat you alive.” The bodybuilder looks away, ashamed. I feel bad. My dom looks more like an adorable puppy dog than a big bad master. “I’m sorry if that sounded harsh. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“It’s okay. I need to hear it. I deserve to hear it.” Santo asks earnestly, “I’ve been trained to focus in one way, but wrestling is the opposite.” Wait. What does that mean? “I have to reset my brain. Do you think there any hope for me to learn?”
I smile, “Well, muscle jobbers who get crushed are popular, too.” He frowns. Fuck, he’s so cute when he pouts. I reassure him, “Don’t feel bad. A few months of watching wrestling doesn’t prepare you for anything. You have to try it. Practice. Learn. Just not in an afternoon.” I ask, “Never even in a fight? I thought big guys like you got challenged all the time.”
“I can box a little. I throw one punch and guys back off, even if I miss. But mostly, I’ve stayed out of trouble my whole life.”
“Good for you.”
The muscleman says seriously, “It was for survival. I grew up in a part of Chicago where guys don’t fight. They shoot.” My eyes go wide. He says, “And I grew up undocumented. Came here when I was five. I’m a citizen now, but my parents told me to avoid trouble at all costs. It meant I had to back down and run from fights most of my life.”
“Wow, I’m sorry. I guess I don’t think enough about what other people have gone through.”
“Don’t apologize.” Santo says, “It’s how I ended up as a bodybuilder. The gym was my safe space from the gangs, the law, and depression. I’d go to the gym after school for hours. Watching. Working out. Hanging. Guys were really nice. A lot of them wanted to fuck or be fucked, which suited me. School, gym, church, and home. That was my entire world.”
I can’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t sound stupid. As we sit in silence. I look around the hotel room. This suite must be expensive, even if he got a weekend deal or something. And the flight. His food. Transportation. Shit, he really invested in this trip. I don’t know how much cash I have on me. Maybe I can make a deal at the front desk to pay for the room on my card.
Santo reads my mind, “Don’t even think about it, Brian. I told you that I don’t need money.”
I nod, “I’m sorry.” I have a million questions for him, but I don’t ask. He’ll tell me if he wants to. I tell him, “Thanks for sharing all that. I can tell it still affects you.”
“It does. It will always be a part of who I am, but I’ve been … I don’t know the right word to describe what I’ve been through. I’ll just say that things have changed. I can take care of myself, my parents, and my brother now.”
“I’m happy to hear that.”
Santo sits up, “What can I do about the wrestling?”
“There are lots of power moves you can do, but a lot of them are meant for a ring.” I slide over and straddle his waist as I push him down. BOOF! I sit on his cock. He lets out a small moan. “Here are a couple of tips. One, you’ve got to try harder. You’re tentative. You don’t resist the hold. It’s sexy, but you need to keep struggling. And eventually, you need to escape. As you saw, your power alone will counter most holds, even if you don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I can do that. I enjoyed being in most of the holds. Until you threatened to knock me out. Could you really have done that?”
“Yes, I could have, but I wouldn’t. Two, use your legs. They’re tree trunks. Keep them moving.”
Santo nods, “Okay. I just know how big I am. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I appreciate that, so I’ll add tip number three. Don’t be scared. I’m not fragile. I’m not easy to break. You need to hurt me a little if you expect to win. I’m not submitting to you sitting on me.” Santo nods. I pat his pecs, “Ready to go again? Best two-out-of-three.” Shit, he’s really wrapped me around his finger. I’m offering to keep going instead of just leaving.
The muscleman agrees, “I’d love to try again. In the porn wrestling, the loser often gets fucked. Would you be open to that? I’m on PrEP and tested before coming here.”
I’m surprised, “What if I win?” I feel his cock twitch under me as he smiles. I shrug, “Okay. Sex stakes. I’m ready to go, too. I thought we might end up … well, I didn’t expect wrestling, but I’m ready, too.” I roll off him and help him rise. I see what I was sitting on. Fuck. I playfully run my finger along the outline. “Your trunks are going to rip if you don’t control that monster.”
Santo laughs, “If they do, they do. I don’t think there’s any hope for me controlling it.”
I trace my finger up his abs. “Oh, you have something on your chest.” The bodybuilder looks down. I whip my finger up under his nose. FLICK! His head pops back. I grin, “Tip number four. Don’t ever trust your opponent, let your guard own, or fall for obvious tricks or distractions.”
"Makes sense."
"And last tip ... don't ever underestimate your opponent. You're big, but sometimes 'big' isn't enough." I flex. "You see this? You like this? These are muscles, too. They can kick the shit out of you if you're not careful. You going to respect this hairy hunk?"
“Yes …”
I get the feeling he suppressed a ‘sir’, but I must be imagining that.
WRESTLING AGAIN.
Santo raises his arms for a lockup. I match him. I take the lead, advancing. Suddenly, I dive down, sliding under his arms. I grab behind his legs and pull with all I’ve got. His feet come forward and he crashes onto the mattress, landing on his back. BOOF! I rise, holding his legs. The muscleman looks up at me, frozen. I lift my foot, driving it into his abs. THUD! OOF!
I step over, flipping him face and chest down. I sit, locking in a Boston crab. ARGH! I explain, “You’ve probably seen this. It’s a crab. Lots of variations. But that’s how you apply it. Lift legs, step over, and sit.” I lean back. Santo moans in pain as he feels it in his back. Yep, big man, but not flexible. Very susceptible to these types of holds. I hold it, enjoying his grunts.
“Want to give?”
“NO!”
I stand up, keeping hold of his legs. I step back, flipping him onto his back. I look down at the sexy hunk, “You’re beautiful, you know that?” Santo smiles proudly, but he doesn’t try to escape. I’m folding his ankles over my right leg and he’s letting me. I twist and flip him back over, this time in a sharpshooter. “I like this version, especially when Bobby Babylon does it.”
Santo moans. I ask playfully, “Do you like it?” He grunts a denial. I tease, “Is it better or worse than the Boston crab I had you in?” He growls, taking the pain. I know that this one is worse. And it’s harder to escape, because his legs are immobilized. Not that the beautiful bodybuilder knows how to escape anyway, but this one is tougher. However, he’s resilient, I’ll give him that.
“Maybe bodybuilder jobber is your calling, boy. You’re a sexy sufferer.” Santo groans. I rise and flip him back over. He’s 260-lbs of wrestling dummy, not doing any better than he did before. I open his legs and slide my foot onto his bulge. The muscleman arches his back and lets out a long moan, loving it. “What have I told you that might be helpful in your current situation?”
The big bodybuilder looks at me, “Never stop moving. Tighten my core. Use my legs.” He frowns, “Sorry. I just … well, I wasn’t thinking. I guess I should add, ‘don’t get distracted’ to the list of things I should’ve done.”
I lift my foot and drive it into his abs. He flexes just in time, tightening his midsection into a concrete slab. STOMP! My bare foot bounces off. I’m not sure he even felt that. I go back to rubbing his manhood. He starts to kick his legs. I can’t hold them, but I can push them out to the side hard and fast. FUCK! He feels it in his groin, rolling onto his side, moaning.
I nudge his ass with my foot, “You flexed your abs and kicked your legs. Finally. That’s a start, at least.”
I push with my foot. He is compliant, moving onto his stomach. I straddle his waist, bend forward, and punch his sides. THUD! He reaches back, still reacting instinctively. I grab his wrists, put my left foot in the middle of his back, and lift his arms up until they point at the ceiling. Santo suffers in the surfboard as I torture his shoulders. He resists, but I manage to hold his arms in place.
I slowly lean into it. Even in this position, Santo is remarkably strong. He actually pushes against me. His feet kick up and down. He moans and writhes, shifting his ass around to try to get a knee under him. Maybe he is learning. I tell him, “You would be so hot doing a torture rack. You know, laying a guy across your broad shoulders. Pulling on his chin and leg.”
Santo moans, “I’ll try that.”
I laugh, “If you ever get free, you should. You could do great backbreakers. Over one shoulder. Over your knee. You seen those?” He grunts that he has. I notice his legs have stopped. So easily distracted. “Of course there’s body slams, power slams, suplexes. You could make those really hurt. Hell, you just splashing down on a guy could finish them off, boy.”
“Yes …”
Santo starts moving his legs again. I’m rock hard in my pink briefs as I dominate the beautiful bodybuilder. We’re having a role reversal and I think we’re both enjoying it. Santo is getting closer to freeing himself. I let go of his wrists. His arms drop and he slides them along the mattress, reaching out forward to work out his shoulders. I step off his back, straddling him.
I leap up, coming down with a splash. SPLAT! OOF! The air leaves his body from my 190-lbs landing on him. He starts to push up. I know he can throw me off, so I decide to hump his ass. My hard cock grinds on his ass. The pink and black spandex protects his hole, but the muscleman gets into it. He lifts his hips into my dry humping and moans excitedly.
I shouldn’t be surprised any more, but I am. I knew he was getting submissive, but the way his ass is going, he’s practically begging me to fuck him. I plant one hand on the back of his head, pushing his face into the mattress. MMPH! I grind hard now, really moving against him. The bodybuilder is still moaning and lifting up into me. Fuck! I might cum right now.
Santo suddenly pushes up. He throws me off and crawls away to the opposite side of the other mattress. He rises to his knees. I casually rise and move around him. I ask, “You want some water, boy?”
“Yes … that would be nice.”
I wonder when he’ll start adding in the ‘Sir’ he’s so clearly omitting. As I pass, I suddenly slip behind him. I drive my knee into his back. WHACK! He grunts in surprise. I grab his hair as I drop down behind him. I pull him backward into a dragon sleeper. “I never said I was going to get water for you, boy. You just never learn. This is called a dragon sleeper. It’s my favorite.”
Santo reaches up to push me away, but I lift up. He groans into my armpit and his hands fall away. I reach my free hand out, sliding it over his chest. The bodybuilder groans. I cup his pec and shake it, “Woof! This is more than a handful, boy!” I go exploring. I start by pinching his nipple. He reaches up and grabs my forearm, but he doesn’t pull my hand away. Nice.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you, boy?” I feel his head try to shake, but I have him locked up tightly. “Liars get punished, boy.” I bring my forearm down hard across his pecs. WHOMP! UNH! Santo’s black trunks are hanging low, weighed down by the power of his erection. I see a shiny wet spot forming at the tip. That’s not sweat. My dom has a submissive streak.
I slither my hand down his abs then dig them into his muscular stretched out stomach. I pull up, raking the hard flesh. The bodybuilder’s whimpering has me hard as a rock. I lift my arm then slam the side of my fist into the abs. THUD! OOF! I see Santo tense his sixpack. I hit the muscles again. THUD! This time my hand bounces off. “A little late for that now, boy. I got you.”
“Yeah, way too late. I own you.” I rub his pecs. “These sexy slabs? Mine.” I poke my index finger into each of his abs, “These six perfect bricks? Mine.” I twist slightly, stretching my arm down to his trunks. He’s tall and long, but I can grab his cock. “And this big piece of meat? Definitely mine.” I pump the thick meat, “Just look how happy it is.” I jerk it and Santo moans.
I taunt him, “This hold is called a sleeper for a reason, boy. You’re gonna give your new ‘Sir’ what he wants or you’re gonna go out.” Fuck, I’m loving being dominant over him. He whimpers into my armpit. “You admit that I’m your Sir?” A nod. “Gonna give Sir what he wants?” A nod. “Don’t wanna go out, boy?” A head shake. “You give?” He taps my shoulder.
I squeeze his cock hard and pump it. He gasps, still controlled in the dragon sleeper. The mighty muscleman isn’t fighting it at all. I work his thick rod hard and fast. He slides his hands behind him, submissively keeping them out of the way. Fuck, do I own this guy or what? I can literally feel his cock pulsing. He’s crying out, gasping and letting out high-pitched cries.
“I’M CUMMING!”
The bodybuilder erupts inside his trunks. White cum seeps through the black spandex. I keep jerking as his whole muscular body shakes from the power of his orgasm. I can barely hold him in the dragon. Santo’s arms stay locked behind him as I drain my ex-dom (literally) of his load. When he stops shaking, I pull off. I release the big man, letting him collapse onto his back.
Santo is breathing hard as he works his legs out flat, extending them. He lies still across the mattresses as I sit and admire his unmoving body. What the fuck just happened? The bodybuilder looks up at me. He strips off his cum-soaked trunks. I’ve seen his naked body for months. I’ve worshipped his cock virtually. I’ve fantasized about a real meeting between us.
I never dreamed of it going like this.
TAKING STAKES.
The bodybuilder rolls over toward me. “Want me to suck your cock or are you going to go right to fucking me?”
I sit on my ass, pull off my pink briefs and spread my legs. My cock stretches up my abs in anticipation. It’s smaller than his, but that doesn’t matter because my cock is attached to me, the winner. I invite him to go for it, “Go ahead.” Santo moves in. He grabs it with his big paw and goes down. Oh. It feels great. I close my eyes and lean my head back. Oh. It’s so very, very great.
The bodybuilder knows how to suck cock. I open my eyes and look down at him. How the fuck did this dom learn to do this. He’s going slowly, coordinating his hand and mouth perfectly. When he pulls off to lick my balls, his hand keeps my cock throbbing. If I’m not careful, he’ll drain my load. Santos washes my balls with his mouth, and I can only moan. Damn!
The muscleman slides his mouth off, “Is this okay? I don’t want to make you cum.”
“It’s perfect.”
Just like you.
Fuck. Fortunately, I didn’t say that last part out loud. Even him going sub on me hasn’t weakened my lust for him. My love. I think it’s only increased it. Don’t fuck him, Brian. Don’t do it. Just thank him, get dressed and go home.
“Slide off and turn around.”
“Yes ...” Santo rises up. “Lube is on the end table.” He looks me in the eye, “Would you mind if I lied down on my back?”
“Are you sore?”
“No. It’s just that I would like to see your face while you fuck me.”
Mother fucker. I swallow hard, “Okay.” This means that I need to see his face, too.
Santo rolls onto his back. He lifts his legs up and grabs behind his knees. I grab the lube and use my fingers to open him up. He moans from one finger then really moans with two inside him. I find his bitch button and his eyes roll back in his head. I just made this beautiful bodybuilder’s eyes roll back in his head. And it was sexy as hell. I love pleasing him, even from the top position.
The muscleman looks at me, “I’m ready whenever you are.”
I’ve been playing with my cock with my other hand. I’m ready. I move into position and slowly push my cock inside him. The big bodybuilder smiles broadly. He lets out a guttural grunt of pleasure as I sink deeper and deeper. I start pumping. I plow his hole, staring him in the eye the entire time. He never takes his eyes from mine. My load builds up quickly. I’m close.
“Breed me, Brian! Please! Breed me!”
My cock explodes inside the muscleman. Santo smiles as I fill him up. He encourages me to keep going. To give him all I’ve got. The bodybuilder literally begs for me to keep giving him my cum. It’s too much. I feel his hole tighten around my cock. Fuck, where did he learn to do that? I’m fucking him, but he’s milking me. I look down, finishing up. When I’m soft, my cock pops free.
Santo lowers his legs. I fall forward on top of him. SPLAT! I slide to his left. He cradles me with his arm behind my back. I snuggle beside him, putting my leg over his and laying my head on his chest. We don’t say anything, just lie here in this romantic pose. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined anything like this.
What the fuck is happening?
TO BE CONCLUDED IN SEVEN DAYS!
NEW .. CASTING AT THE END OF THE STORY …
Brian = Tyler David Marr (model)
Santo = Jhon Duque (bodybuilder)
I get the feeling he suppressed a ‘sir’, but I must be imagining that.
WRESTLING AGAIN.
Santo raises his arms for a lockup. I match him. I take the lead, advancing. Suddenly, I dive down, sliding under his arms. I grab behind his legs and pull with all I’ve got. His feet come forward and he crashes onto the mattress, landing on his back. BOOF! I rise, holding his legs. The muscleman looks up at me, frozen. I lift my foot, driving it into his abs. THUD! OOF!
I step over, flipping him face and chest down. I sit, locking in a Boston crab. ARGH! I explain, “You’ve probably seen this. It’s a crab. Lots of variations. But that’s how you apply it. Lift legs, step over, and sit.” I lean back. Santo moans in pain as he feels it in his back. Yep, big man, but not flexible. Very susceptible to these types of holds. I hold it, enjoying his grunts.
“Want to give?”
“NO!”
I stand up, keeping hold of his legs. I step back, flipping him onto his back. I look down at the sexy hunk, “You’re beautiful, you know that?” Santo smiles proudly, but he doesn’t try to escape. I’m folding his ankles over my right leg and he’s letting me. I twist and flip him back over, this time in a sharpshooter. “I like this version, especially when Bobby Babylon does it.”
Santo moans. I ask playfully, “Do you like it?” He grunts a denial. I tease, “Is it better or worse than the Boston crab I had you in?” He growls, taking the pain. I know that this one is worse. And it’s harder to escape, because his legs are immobilized. Not that the beautiful bodybuilder knows how to escape anyway, but this one is tougher. However, he’s resilient, I’ll give him that.
“Maybe bodybuilder jobber is your calling, boy. You’re a sexy sufferer.” Santo groans. I rise and flip him back over. He’s 260-lbs of wrestling dummy, not doing any better than he did before. I open his legs and slide my foot onto his bulge. The muscleman arches his back and lets out a long moan, loving it. “What have I told you that might be helpful in your current situation?”
The big bodybuilder looks at me, “Never stop moving. Tighten my core. Use my legs.” He frowns, “Sorry. I just … well, I wasn’t thinking. I guess I should add, ‘don’t get distracted’ to the list of things I should’ve done.”
I lift my foot and drive it into his abs. He flexes just in time, tightening his midsection into a concrete slab. STOMP! My bare foot bounces off. I’m not sure he even felt that. I go back to rubbing his manhood. He starts to kick his legs. I can’t hold them, but I can push them out to the side hard and fast. FUCK! He feels it in his groin, rolling onto his side, moaning.
I nudge his ass with my foot, “You flexed your abs and kicked your legs. Finally. That’s a start, at least.”
I push with my foot. He is compliant, moving onto his stomach. I straddle his waist, bend forward, and punch his sides. THUD! He reaches back, still reacting instinctively. I grab his wrists, put my left foot in the middle of his back, and lift his arms up until they point at the ceiling. Santo suffers in the surfboard as I torture his shoulders. He resists, but I manage to hold his arms in place.
I slowly lean into it. Even in this position, Santo is remarkably strong. He actually pushes against me. His feet kick up and down. He moans and writhes, shifting his ass around to try to get a knee under him. Maybe he is learning. I tell him, “You would be so hot doing a torture rack. You know, laying a guy across your broad shoulders. Pulling on his chin and leg.”
Santo moans, “I’ll try that.”
I laugh, “If you ever get free, you should. You could do great backbreakers. Over one shoulder. Over your knee. You seen those?” He grunts that he has. I notice his legs have stopped. So easily distracted. “Of course there’s body slams, power slams, suplexes. You could make those really hurt. Hell, you just splashing down on a guy could finish them off, boy.”
“Yes …”
Santo starts moving his legs again. I’m rock hard in my pink briefs as I dominate the beautiful bodybuilder. We’re having a role reversal and I think we’re both enjoying it. Santo is getting closer to freeing himself. I let go of his wrists. His arms drop and he slides them along the mattress, reaching out forward to work out his shoulders. I step off his back, straddling him.
I leap up, coming down with a splash. SPLAT! OOF! The air leaves his body from my 190-lbs landing on him. He starts to push up. I know he can throw me off, so I decide to hump his ass. My hard cock grinds on his ass. The pink and black spandex protects his hole, but the muscleman gets into it. He lifts his hips into my dry humping and moans excitedly.
I shouldn’t be surprised any more, but I am. I knew he was getting submissive, but the way his ass is going, he’s practically begging me to fuck him. I plant one hand on the back of his head, pushing his face into the mattress. MMPH! I grind hard now, really moving against him. The bodybuilder is still moaning and lifting up into me. Fuck! I might cum right now.
Santo suddenly pushes up. He throws me off and crawls away to the opposite side of the other mattress. He rises to his knees. I casually rise and move around him. I ask, “You want some water, boy?”
“Yes … that would be nice.”
I wonder when he’ll start adding in the ‘Sir’ he’s so clearly omitting. As I pass, I suddenly slip behind him. I drive my knee into his back. WHACK! He grunts in surprise. I grab his hair as I drop down behind him. I pull him backward into a dragon sleeper. “I never said I was going to get water for you, boy. You just never learn. This is called a dragon sleeper. It’s my favorite.”
Santo reaches up to push me away, but I lift up. He groans into my armpit and his hands fall away. I reach my free hand out, sliding it over his chest. The bodybuilder groans. I cup his pec and shake it, “Woof! This is more than a handful, boy!” I go exploring. I start by pinching his nipple. He reaches up and grabs my forearm, but he doesn’t pull my hand away. Nice.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you, boy?” I feel his head try to shake, but I have him locked up tightly. “Liars get punished, boy.” I bring my forearm down hard across his pecs. WHOMP! UNH! Santo’s black trunks are hanging low, weighed down by the power of his erection. I see a shiny wet spot forming at the tip. That’s not sweat. My dom has a submissive streak.
I slither my hand down his abs then dig them into his muscular stretched out stomach. I pull up, raking the hard flesh. The bodybuilder’s whimpering has me hard as a rock. I lift my arm then slam the side of my fist into the abs. THUD! OOF! I see Santo tense his sixpack. I hit the muscles again. THUD! This time my hand bounces off. “A little late for that now, boy. I got you.”
“Yeah, way too late. I own you.” I rub his pecs. “These sexy slabs? Mine.” I poke my index finger into each of his abs, “These six perfect bricks? Mine.” I twist slightly, stretching my arm down to his trunks. He’s tall and long, but I can grab his cock. “And this big piece of meat? Definitely mine.” I pump the thick meat, “Just look how happy it is.” I jerk it and Santo moans.
I taunt him, “This hold is called a sleeper for a reason, boy. You’re gonna give your new ‘Sir’ what he wants or you’re gonna go out.” Fuck, I’m loving being dominant over him. He whimpers into my armpit. “You admit that I’m your Sir?” A nod. “Gonna give Sir what he wants?” A nod. “Don’t wanna go out, boy?” A head shake. “You give?” He taps my shoulder.
I squeeze his cock hard and pump it. He gasps, still controlled in the dragon sleeper. The mighty muscleman isn’t fighting it at all. I work his thick rod hard and fast. He slides his hands behind him, submissively keeping them out of the way. Fuck, do I own this guy or what? I can literally feel his cock pulsing. He’s crying out, gasping and letting out high-pitched cries.
“I’M CUMMING!”
The bodybuilder erupts inside his trunks. White cum seeps through the black spandex. I keep jerking as his whole muscular body shakes from the power of his orgasm. I can barely hold him in the dragon. Santo’s arms stay locked behind him as I drain my ex-dom (literally) of his load. When he stops shaking, I pull off. I release the big man, letting him collapse onto his back.
Santo is breathing hard as he works his legs out flat, extending them. He lies still across the mattresses as I sit and admire his unmoving body. What the fuck just happened? The bodybuilder looks up at me. He strips off his cum-soaked trunks. I’ve seen his naked body for months. I’ve worshipped his cock virtually. I’ve fantasized about a real meeting between us.
I never dreamed of it going like this.
TAKING STAKES.
The bodybuilder rolls over toward me. “Want me to suck your cock or are you going to go right to fucking me?”
I sit on my ass, pull off my pink briefs and spread my legs. My cock stretches up my abs in anticipation. It’s smaller than his, but that doesn’t matter because my cock is attached to me, the winner. I invite him to go for it, “Go ahead.” Santo moves in. He grabs it with his big paw and goes down. Oh. It feels great. I close my eyes and lean my head back. Oh. It’s so very, very great.
The bodybuilder knows how to suck cock. I open my eyes and look down at him. How the fuck did this dom learn to do this. He’s going slowly, coordinating his hand and mouth perfectly. When he pulls off to lick my balls, his hand keeps my cock throbbing. If I’m not careful, he’ll drain my load. Santos washes my balls with his mouth, and I can only moan. Damn!
The muscleman slides his mouth off, “Is this okay? I don’t want to make you cum.”
“It’s perfect.”
Just like you.
Fuck. Fortunately, I didn’t say that last part out loud. Even him going sub on me hasn’t weakened my lust for him. My love. I think it’s only increased it. Don’t fuck him, Brian. Don’t do it. Just thank him, get dressed and go home.
“Slide off and turn around.”
“Yes ...” Santo rises up. “Lube is on the end table.” He looks me in the eye, “Would you mind if I lied down on my back?”
“Are you sore?”
“No. It’s just that I would like to see your face while you fuck me.”
Mother fucker. I swallow hard, “Okay.” This means that I need to see his face, too.
Santo rolls onto his back. He lifts his legs up and grabs behind his knees. I grab the lube and use my fingers to open him up. He moans from one finger then really moans with two inside him. I find his bitch button and his eyes roll back in his head. I just made this beautiful bodybuilder’s eyes roll back in his head. And it was sexy as hell. I love pleasing him, even from the top position.
The muscleman looks at me, “I’m ready whenever you are.”
I’ve been playing with my cock with my other hand. I’m ready. I move into position and slowly push my cock inside him. The big bodybuilder smiles broadly. He lets out a guttural grunt of pleasure as I sink deeper and deeper. I start pumping. I plow his hole, staring him in the eye the entire time. He never takes his eyes from mine. My load builds up quickly. I’m close.
“Breed me, Brian! Please! Breed me!”
My cock explodes inside the muscleman. Santo smiles as I fill him up. He encourages me to keep going. To give him all I’ve got. The bodybuilder literally begs for me to keep giving him my cum. It’s too much. I feel his hole tighten around my cock. Fuck, where did he learn to do that? I’m fucking him, but he’s milking me. I look down, finishing up. When I’m soft, my cock pops free.
Santo lowers his legs. I fall forward on top of him. SPLAT! I slide to his left. He cradles me with his arm behind my back. I snuggle beside him, putting my leg over his and laying my head on his chest. We don’t say anything, just lie here in this romantic pose. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined anything like this.
What the fuck is happening?
TO BE CONCLUDED IN SEVEN DAYS!
NEW .. CASTING AT THE END OF THE STORY …
Brian = Tyler David Marr (model)
Santo = Jhon Duque (bodybuilder)
Well damn Alex, this must be some of your best storytelling! Brian's development from emotionally unavailable to realizing that he just might be in love with this man is so compelling. And I loved watching Santo turn into a submissive muscle jobber at the hands of his former sub. Can't wait for part two! Perhaps we'll see Brian & Santo make an appearance in the Cave someday?
ReplyDeleteThanks! I appreciate that a lot. This story started in a very different place. As I wrote and re-wrote it, it grew (and grew) into something I really like, but I can never be sure what readers will think.
DeleteAs for The Cave, who’s to say? Oh, I guess I am, but I won’t. ;)
What a sexy story! I love the way the power dynamics shift around
ReplyDeleteThanks! These Encounters stories allow me to try to stretch.
DeleteWow! A very hot story with a lot going on emotionally for both studs. I’m a sucker for any story in which an alpha Dom bodybuilder gets submitted and fucked so it was basically perfect. Thanks for the kind shout out at the beginning and adding the cast at the end! Can’t wait for Part 2!
ReplyDeleteYour story definitely inspired me in terms of thinking about subs paying doms and those dynamics. Brian and Santo evolved a lot where both guys are going through a lot emotionally. The next part actually starts with Santo sharing his story, so you’ll see.
DeleteMy comment posted! I feel like I have to go back to leave some on older stories while it still works. The dynamic between the two was great in both stories, and the action was hot. I like how Santo goes down first, then rises to the occasion. They would be a fun tag team if they came back in the future!
ReplyDeleteWe’re on the same wavelength. Tag team action is exactly how I envision them returning if they do. I really like them which how the story grew to two parts … it was a simple story, but I couldn’t stop!
Delete