Part 1 of 2
So, there I was in my gym on a lazy Wednesday mid-morning. It had a higher percentage of gay men because it was a men’s gym in a gayer part of Chicago. After my usual workout, I liked my alone time in this large redwood room. The photo of me does not show it, but this sauna is long and narrow and could easily hold 20 guys. But few members were ever in there when I used it in the daytime.
I was drifting off, reflecting on my body gradually becoming more muscular. I wasn’t “big,” but I was well on my way to a nice toned bod. I stretched out naked on my back. I placed my hands under the back of my head to cushion it from the hardwood bench. It’s supposed to be a dry sauna, although guys pour water on the hot-rock heater to make it steam. In those steamy times, you could barely make out any people sitting near you. I didn’t care one way or the other, wet steam or dry heat. Nice. I closed my eyes and zoned out. I heard the door open and close a few times, and I felt the wet steam hissing as the steam built up and filled the room. I inhaled deeply and relaxed more. I heard a few whispers at one point and heard more hissing as someone doused the hot rocks with water. I refused to open my eyes and leave my precious, well-deserved mental space.
I heard the rocks sizzle again, but the sound was more continuous this time. Some people really want solid steam. Nice. I envisioned myself totally enveloped in dense, wall-to-wall steam. There was some creaking noise, like people were readjusting their seated position on wood benches. I remained flat on my back, and my head still cradled in my palms, making my elbows jut out to either side.
I heard an “Shhh” sound, which I dismissed as another blast of steam being released, but then … in my sleepiness, it seemed close to my head. Without any time to react, I suddenly felt a very firm pressure pushing down on both my elbows, and at the same time, someone else quickly sat on my legs. Of course, my eyelids shot open, and in the dense steamy haze, I saw two partially naked figures in blurry shadows. Then, another “Shhhh,” which I now understand was a signal to me to be quiet and still. Was this some sort of a prank? They were not hurting me, but on the other hand, these two guys held me down very firmly. The upper guy was kneeling on my folded arms, folded since my hands were under my head and my elbows were sticking out, giving him a place to kneel to secure my arms.
Then he leaned forward and extended his belly, which I saw was round and fat, to place it close to my upturned face. I felt that at any time he could push his big belly completely over my mouth and nose and stop me from breathing. I jerked my body. I heard him giggle as if he was having fun showing me his power to interfere with my air supply. I thought angrily, “What kind of a sick game is this?”
Why didn’t I scream - my mouth was not covered? But … there were at least two of them. They seemed large and could have a knife or something to injure me. Were they going to hurt me? I mean, I am a big, strong, muscled guy, but did they have a weapon? I didn’t want it produced as proof. More water was poured onto the rocks, which confirmed the presence of a third person, perhaps a lookout, near the door where the heater was. I tested their ability to hold me down by trying to lift my legs and found that they had me well-anchored with their body weights. They rocked a bit with me, but I could not free my legs, as strong as I was. It was just the awkwardness of my position and my weakness from the moist heat.
The lower guy was not causing me physical discomfort, either. You’d think that when someone sits on your knees, that bony mass would be harshly pushed into the wood beach. But he had actually positioned his ass so that one cheek was above my knees and one was below them. Where my knees caps jutted out was nestled in the crack of his ass.
“Shhhh,” whispered the lower guy sitting on my legs. But I tried again to push them off, this time by attempting to lift my chest up. Still, the upper guy simply adjusted his position to more securely kneel on my folded arms, with my hands neatly trapped under my head. I had no leverage. Both applied only the pressure they needed to keep me still. I felt they did not want to cause me pain, but they hadn’t.
No one spoke. I didn’t speak because I was obeying their “Shush.” Why provoke them when I was not being hurt? I was dazed in all this heat and sweat. I shook my head to clear it and thought, fuck, I’m no one's rag doll. I’ve been working out at this gym for years. I’m as strong as an ox. I tried to get up a third time, this time trying to shake them off as I grunted loudly. It only caused the upper guy to lean over me and place his hand on my hips to thwart my further attempts to lift my butt off the wooden bench. So he was now on all fours, his knees in my arms and his hands on my hips. And he was a big guy - even through the clouds of steam, I could sense he might be 250 to 300 pounds. They held me at strategically perfect points as if they had planned this and maybe even had done this before to others.
The upper guy whispered, “Shhhhhhhh.” It was like a warning. I thought I heard the two guys giggle. What was so funny? I was indeed freaking out. Then as if it was all so perfectly preplanned, every action of theirs for a purpose, the upper guy slowly and firmly lowered his sweat-dripping belly a little firmer onto my face. Now I really started to panic. It was not due to any pain but rather because I now felt like he could take away my ability to breathe by simply pushing his big fat belly more firmly against my nose and mouth.
Was the lower guy calling the shots? In the haze, I noticed he was on the thin side, not thin, just without muscle mass. He still had enough body weight to hold my legs down. He giggled effeminately again, sounding like a schoolgirl. What? A silly, skinny queenie guy is subduing me? Fuck this shit! A fat elephant and a skinny queer are holding me down and controlling me? Me! A pumped-up bodybuilder? Who the fuck are these twerpy assholes who think they can toy with me, play with me! I immediately started to resist.
My efforts just as quickly ended when the upper guy took a few deep breaths and pushed his belly firmly into my face each time. These guys may be Fatso and Queer Boy, but they seemed to know what they were doing. The fat guy pressed his belly firmly into my face, and I could no longer take a breath. It was only for brief moments, but it was enough of a clear signal for me to know they were in control. I felt like, no … I understood that he had the power to stop me from breathing. I'd be dead if he applied even the slightest pressure to seal my nose and mouth with his soft belly fat.
I immediately twisted my head to one side so my right ear was upward and my mouth and nose were completely unobstructed. I was staring at the inside of Fatso’s huge thigh. Maybe it was all the heat, the steam, his body sweat dripping all over me, but I think I heard a low whisper: “Good puta.” Was he doing stuff to maneuver me into this position? Did I imagine his cleverness?
Now, faced sideways, I was able to breathe. It seemed like the more I read their signals and complied, the more comfortable I was allowed to be, and the sooner this – whatever “this” was – would be over.
Even with his belly resting on the side of my head, holding it still, I could hear some stuff if I concentrated. I heard the door open and immediately a voice saying, “Sorry, the sauna is closed. There’s broken glass in here,” Followed by, “OK, no problem,” and the door closed. I was right; the third guy was a lookout. His voice sounded like that of a young black man. He was preventing anyone from disturbing their plan. Then I heard more steam. I suppose the fact that the door was glass meant that they did not want anyone seeing anything from the outside or if someone started to come in, and steam was the obvious smoke screen.
There must have been a lot of steam accumulating on the ceiling; I could feel it dripping on me everywhere. It didn’t burn. It tickled. The way the lower guy pushed my legs together before sitting on them must have caused my dick and balls to be pushed upward so they would sit on top of my legs rather than be squished between them. I could feel the water droplets trickling onto and down my balls. At first, it was irritatingly itchy, but it later seemed more like a tickle.
I was thinking that under other circumstances, the droplets would feel erotic, but not with me so completely immobilized. This was not funny. How the fuck could I get these guys off me? There was more steam, more sweat, and now droplets hitting my dick. I wanted to just get a hand free and wipe off my dick. It tickled, but my hands were pinned under my head and held there because my elbows were being kneeled on gently but very firmly.
I felt droplets precisely on my right nipple too. God, that’s odd, I thought. A moment later, they were precisely hitting my left nipple. It was almost like a tickling fingernail flicking lightly across them. I felt it more and more, now on both my nipples. Did I feel my dick bounce? Shit, with my head buried between this fat guy’s thighs, I could neither see nor move. My dick bobbed. This time I was sure of it. Hopefully, no one saw it in this dense steam. I wanted my freedom. Then both my nipples were pinched at the same time. “Fuck,” I said aloud as I finally realized I was not feeling drops of water but rather these two guys intentionally tickling me, and now they were pinching and pulling my nipples shit! Stop that!” I yelled. One or both chuckled at my defiance. Fucking shit, these guys are fucking playing with me. I’m not going to be their fucking play toy. Fuck no! I’m no one’s fuck toy! Am not. I can’t be. It’s not who I am. How can that ever be possible? No one can make me....
My attention was brought to my dick - they were teasing it. Fuck! My balls were tickled and lightly scratched while a hand was slowly moving up and down on my semi-stiff dick. I did not want to yell again. I did not want the third guy to come over and help them hold me down. I thought I should quietly gather my strength to make one huge push to get them off me.
I managed to lift my chest off the bench, but only about an inch, then I applied every ounce of strength to lift my shoulder to try to quickly wiggle my elbows out from under the big guy’s knees. As I began my struggle, he increased his pressure on my arms. He never exerted more pressure on me than was needed to keep me still. My body shook and trembled from that momentary physical exertion. I moved one elbow a tiny bit and continued to push.
Although it must have seemed as if they were riding a wild animal, they held their positions without too much effort. Perhaps they were expecting my resistance and knew what was coming. Then one guy removed his hand from my hardening dick and calmly placed his thumb and forefinger on my nose to tightly close my nostrils. What the fuck! I opened my mouth wider to breathe. It was weird. My head was turned fully to the side just so I could breathe, the upper guy’s belly was weighing my head down so it would not move, and this other guy sneaked his hand to my face and closed off my nose, forcing me to breathe only through my mouth. It freaked me out.
He was allowing me to breathe his way. I started frantically jerking, twisting, and speaking up to tell him “no.” Then he very calmly whispered, “Shhhhhhh,” to tell me to stay quiet and motionless. While still pinching my nose closed, he brought the palm of his hand down fully over my mouth and eliminated my ability to breathe altogether. Before I could react in a renewed desperate struggle for my very life, he uncovered my mouth, letting me breathe freely again, but left his two fingers pinching my nose closed. I breathed in deeply. I took it as a warning to behave. I stopped all my movements and tried to relax. I did not want to do anything that would upset him and cause him to suffocate me. I was confused, thinking of myself as their mere captive. He continued to pinch my nose closed.
The guy who remained kneeling on my folded arms removed his hands from my hips and placed his palms firmly on my head, so instead of his belly holding my head down and to the side, now his hands did that. It did not hurt since my own hands were still trapped under my head as a cushion. This allowed him to kneel more relaxed, in a fully upward position. So caught up in my nightmare, it never dawned on me that I might now move my waist.
Since the lower captor was still sitting on my legs and holding my nostrils closed, they thought I would not dare try to break free. They rightly assumed that I’d be too emotionally consumed by my fear that they could easily take away my air supply.
Once again, the captor pinching my nose moved his palm over my mouth and shut my air off completely as he whispered, “Shhhhhh.” I tried to stay calm, thinking he would allow me to breathe soon, and he did, though he made me wait a little longer. I did not even notice him using his other hand to very slowly work my dick up and down. All the heat, steam, sweat, and smells that filled the room made it difficult for me to focus on anything. I knew my dick felt good, but I didn’t know why.
I wanted to look at him, but the upper captor tightly held my head down and still. I could only stare at the one fat inner thigh before me. I heard the door open, and the lookout partner dismissed the intruder, saying there was broken glass in there and the sauna was closed for the day. Yes, the lookout guy did sound like a young black man. He’s probably the one pouring water on the hot rocks, creating steam continuously. Or… was there a fourth captor in here? The dense steam prevented me from seeing any details (if I could move my head to look around) and prevented anyone from seeing anything from outside the glass door. Of course, I realized none of this. Still, the constant hot steam and my focus on needing to breathe were probably the key factors in my inability to think clearly.
I did realize that the lower captor had worked my dick into a stiff, ridged pole. I wanted to buck my hips to help him make me climax, and maybe I did unconsciously. Then, as I figured, he covered my mouth with his palm once again like I was waiting for it to happen. I wanted to yell, “Please stop!” This time he didn’t utter “shhh” I guess he thought that was no longer necessary. He waited a long time before letting me breathe. What seemed like minutes must have been only 30 seconds. I was in a steam haze and more and more disoriented as I gasped loudly as soon as my mouth was allowed to open.
I heard them laugh like silly, childish queens, but it was as if they were laughing excitedly, seeing me behave and submit. I was their captive, their plaything. How in the fuck could this be? I worked for years to build up my muscular, powerful body. I wanted to yank my hands free from under my head and push him off my dick and off my body. It was the lower guy - I sensed he was the boss - who must have leaned forward to my ear. I could feel his breath on my face as he whispered, “Tell me you are my puta muscle bitch.”
I could not even think what that meant. I was so confused and felt the room spinning just a little. I said nothing. Then slowly, he placed his palm over my mouth. I thought he’d remove it without too much delay, as before. Still, I unsuccessfully tried to suck in air through any gaps around his sealed palm on my face. But I could not. I frantically nodded, jerking my head “yes”... “okay”... in acknowledgment. He allowed me air through my mouth and spoke again, “Tell me you are my muscle-bitch puta boy.” Again, I nodded quickly.
“No, speak it to me.”
“Yes, I’m your puta muscle bitch.” I meekly added, “Please let me breathe.” I mumbled out a pathetic plea, which caused them to giggle in delight. I wondered if more begging would help. Maybe if I asked nicer and apologized for whatever, or said whatever the fuck he wanted to hear from me. I heard a soft “Shhhhhhh” from him. His lips were resting on my ear because I could feel his lips move as he shushed me. I didn’t move or speak, thinking that was what he wanted.
But didn’t he want me to say stuff like, “I’m sorry?” Why did their lookout keep generating more and more steam? It’s hard to breathe as it is. Should I thank him for giving me air and express my appreciation? Maybe he wanted me to do the opposite, nothing. Say nothing, think nothing, respond to nothing, be nothing. Is that it?
There was a short silence. Then he said, “There, that’s better.” I assumed he was referring to my relaxing my body. He must have felt my body surrender, yet neither he nor my upper captor lets go of me, not even of my pinched nose.
Then he said, “Most athletic guys think of me as a brainy college nerd. I take that as a compliment. They are so stupid they don’t even realize that they are admitting that I am smarter than them. I certainly am. I don’t need to out-muscle anyone to win control. You have muscles, but you are as helpless as a little boy. You can’t even breathe without my permission, can you?” I shook my head, agreeing that he was right.
“You will bulk up much more, not for your benefit, but for my use and pleasure. I want a big-muscled bitch on my leash. I want my own personal powerful, strong, puta-whore at my service. And that is you, or it will be if you continue to develop your body as I require. Soon you will learn you cannot function without my approval.”
This can’t be true, can’t it? Why is he saying these things to me? I’m an adult, a bodybuilder, and powerful … My thoughts were interrupted. “When I say ‘go,’ I want you to hold your breath as long as you can. I know it’s hot in here. I know you won’t be able to hold it too long, but your job is to please me. Hold your breath as long as possible, and when you need to breathe, I will allow you to have only one deep inhale. Then hold that for as long as you can. And keep doing it.”
“Oh, God. Why are they fucking with me like this!” I wondered to myself. They’re going to kill me anyway, aren’t they?
His Muscle Bitch
Part 2 of 2
One worked on my balls, and the other my dick. But the steam was so hot and smoky; I could not tell much about what was happening. Next thing I knew, I was on my back, and a hand was over my mouth and nose.
I couldn’t think. I labored to try to breathe in this hot steam, but I could not inhale. I felt held down and moved around. The steam and the energy I spent resisting were causing weird feelings, like hallucinations or dreams.
I envisioned my buddies in here teasing me, manipulating my limbs, and playing with me. I imagined I was in here with a group of my gym buddies. We were having an orgy, a blast. Everyone was manipulating everyone else, touching and playing with everyone’s body. I was so light-headed. I just needed to breathe. Why can’t I breathe? I was getting dizzy. I could move my arms. I opened my eyes, but the steam blurred the room. There were two blurry bodies on me, but they were unfamiliar.
Then I heard a threat. I would be suffocated if I didn’t behave. The hand uncovered my mouth, and I inhaled deeply. Oh, thank God! But that was it. The hand was replaced. The steam cleared a bit, and I saw the self-proclaimed nerd who was proud of it. He thinks he can control anyone, even a muscular bodybuilder like me. It’s his nature to practice brains over brawns and continually push that practice to daring levels, even in a public sauna. He and his fat cohort sneaked up and sat on me when I was in a restful kind of trance. Then this physical weakling of a nerd started to tell me how he wanted to own me like a fucking dog. I couldn’t push them off me. I tried. I was so worn out with my struggles to break free. The one guy, the queeny guy in charge, kept pinching my nose closed and momentarily covered my mouth to stop me from breathing. I had no choice but to nod my head in agreement to do as told. Yet, they never hurt me. I sensed that they wouldn’t as long as I admitted I was their captive muscle bitch, as he put it, his puta.
In his monotone, confident voice, he continued, “You will keep your eyes shut tight. And you will not move, not even twitch. You will not speak a word. You are not worthy to speak to me.” I nodded quickly and submitted totally, and he released my nose again. I kept quiet and still. I found my body relaxing into a state of surrender. It’s like I had no fight or resistance left in me, not physically and especially not mentally. My mind came to no conclusions except that I was given the most important job of my life, to breathe as he directed me to.
My captor continued to taunt me, “Imagine, a college nerd has your life in the palm of his hand. But I don’t want to hurt my property. I want to own you. I allow you to breathe one breath at a time, but only after you hold it until you think you will pass out. Understand my terms, my puta muscle bitch?” Again, I nodded that I’d do as he required.
I was breathing slowly and deeply, trying to relax more since he did not say to start yet. I was wondering how long I could hold my breath. It was hot. I was dripping sweat like a pig and a little light-headed. I think he knew all of that. Then he said, “Go.” I inhaled as much air as my lungs could hold and held it.
Staying calm was the key. I was trying to let myself be a dead weight on the sauna’s wooden bench as if I were a sack of potatoes. Then I felt something wet and slippery on my balls. My eyes were tightly closed as ordered, so I only guessed that the lower captor was licking my ball sack. Was he? Nothing touched my dick, but I could only focus on holding my breath. Then there was something wet on my dick. I did not know what it was. I had difficulty holding my breath as my belly muscles started moving in and out, trying to suck in air. My belly muscles demanded I open my mouth, but I resisted.
I heard, “Good puta bitch.” I feel a bit of pride. I pleased him. But why the fuck do I need to please anyone? I started to let out air slowly in anticipation of inhaling again soon. I was not even aware that the lower captor was no longer sitting on my legs. I was fucking trying to do my fucking job, holding my breath.
Then I realized that the wet sensations on both my dick and balls were two mouths. I released all the air in my lungs and loudly gasped as I inhaled sharply in one huge intake. I could not believe this! A skinny nerdy weakling sitting now between my legs and a fat slob kneeling on my arms were the two guys Mastering me! How in the fuck did this happen? The mouth on my balls was now engulfing and gently pulling on them. I wanted to see what was happening, yell, stop, squirt, grab my dick, regain ownership of my body, and do whatever I wanted! But fuck, I had the job of holding my breath. Nothing else was any concern to me.
I felt my dick swallowed up by the upper guy. He must be leaning over and owning my dick. It was all the way in his mouth and hitting the back of his throat. I wanted to jerk my body upward to force my dick further down his throat. Why not? I realized that no one was holding my legs down. Couldn’t I easily lift up my strong, powerful, muscular legs and scissor-lock the upper captive between them? But I was told not to move a muscle, not a twitch.
Fuck, why didn’t he just suck me off? I’m his muscle-bitch puta! Go ahead, finish me off. For God’s sake, damn you! I got angry thinking these thoughts. I wanted to choke the bastard by pumping my fuck load down his gullet. But my body just lay there, obeying orders not to move. He gagged a bit but continued deep-throating me at a very gentle, slow pace. I had no say. I was his suck toy, his amusement.
Shit, I couldn’t shoot off with all their fucking prissy gentleness. Don’t they know that? I need to feel a firm friction on my dick to blast off. Nobody fucking cares! The mouth on my balls moved lower and was now vigorously and playfully licking all around, even drifting onto my perineum. I was sweating profusely, and my head seemed to be spinning.
I felt my right knee lifted gently and held up firmly toward my right shoulder. Doing that also lifted my ass part way off the bench. Only then did I realize the lower captor must have changed positions at some point. My left leg was straight, flat down on the bench behind him, and my right leg was bent at the knee and held up out of the way toward my right shoulder. My legs were like opened scissors.
With my legs stretched in opposite directions, one up and one down, my dick, balls, and ass were now most vulnerable and fully accessible. It did not even concern me. Who the hell cares what a fuck-up, boned-up puta thinks? It had long since been made clear that my dick, balls, mouth, and ass were for my captors’ use. My belly pushed in and out, pleading for me to take a breath, causing my Master captor to say, “Such a wonderful muscle-bitch cunt, aren’t you? Surrender every ounce of energy you have to your nerd Master. That will please me.”
Fucking shit! I was so happy I inhaled deeply and felt proud of my job. He was pleased, and I was hot and sweat-soaked, dripping and very light-headed, and now holding my breath once again, feeling a great sense of relief and pride. “Oh, thank you, God!” I said to myself. The tongue was searching my asshole, teasing and taunting me. What the fuck! I felt that tongue make large circles. Then, he lifted my other leg fully up to my left shoulder. Both legs were held up and outward with my knees bent and pushed to the outsides of my shoulders, forcing my ass upward.
I guess one of his knees was re-positioned partially under my tailbone to elevate my ass even more, almost doubling me over, but it was not uncomfortable. The fact that my knees were spread wide apart gave the upper captor plenty of room to work my dick as he wished. They were enforcing their desires to become my desires. I accepted that I had no role to play or decision to make, nothing to affect, request, or deny. All were out of my control.
Now, my upper captor stopped sucking my dick but let his mouth over it. It was odd. He held his mouth wide open and fully covered my hard shaft, but he was careful not to let the sides of his mouth or his tongue touch my dick. Shit! Can’t he see I need to cum? I need some friction. But I had no right to communicate my desires, nor even to have desires. I was not permitted to move or even to open my eyes.
I couldn’t hold my breath any longer. I took a deep breath and felt faint, but I fought that sensation off as I stayed posed as positioned by my captors. I felt my asshole pulsing as it learned to respond to the commands of the tickling tongue and some fingertips that were spreading my ass cheeks apart. My hole seemed to be opening and closing without my will. I couldn’t stop it. How dare I consider stopping it?
Then he whispered, “Oh, my sweet cum-dump bitch.” His mouth was so close to my asshole that I not only felt his breath, but I could feel his lips on the surface of my asshole as he spoke to me, or rather, talked to my hole directly. “Yes, my stupid whore fuck hole. How you please me. Your surrender makes me so fucking proud. I own this hole like I own these balls.” As he said that, I felt him yank on my balls, stressing his power and control.
I did not understand much, but what I was putting together in vague thought was suddenly disrupted. I felt warm breaths on my dick from the mouth it was jutting into. That mouth that engulfed my dick still refused to suck or tongue it. The mouth stayed still like a silo housing my dick rocket. My dick began to bob back and forth on its own, and made contact with that hot wet saliva-leaking mouth, top, then bottom, then top, and then bottom, nonstop. It was as if the mouth was training my dick how to acquire erotic, fleshy contact, and my dick was learning that the more it bobbed, the more wonderful wet touches it received.
So focused was I on my uncontrolled bobbing dick I was unaware when my Master captor’s tongue entered my asshole and was licking the inside of my muscular hole. It must have entered me so gently because he taught my ass first to relax open. I was thinking or trying to think about my bobbing dick and how wonderful it’d be if allowed to explode. But it seemed to be lost in its own erotic, bobbing dance, totally uncaring if it would blast off or not. What I did feel next was a stiff dick of my Master. I guess he scooted his body closer when my hips were lifted off the bench as he firmly pushed both my knees more firmly to the outside of my shoulders, spreading my thighs and holding them up.
I felt his stiff dick rubbing against the side of my body. He had a huge boner which I was denied seeing. My eyes were to remain closed, as instructed. As he enjoyed eating the asshole of his muscle bitch, his dick was rhythmically rubbing against me, and it was wet with leaking ooze.
Then they got off me and had me stand up and flex. I was to parade my big boner for them to show it off. They required me to pose and flex and stand with muscles all tensed up as if I was their fucking trophy!. This last burst of steam billowed clouds of white “smoke,” and I could not see much again, but I remember hands pulled me back onto the sweaty bench. I guess they were finished posing me. I know my dick was hard, but no one was touching it at the moment.
Fuck, why won’t they just let me cum? Don’t they know what I need? Fuck, fuck, fuck! I sobbed, and my body trembled in the process, and like a confused and lost little boy, I babbled nonsense and wept at how my big, solid hard body was no more than a drag-doll toy to them. Its function was to be manipulated to their every whim. “Yes, bitch boy, let it out. Release all your emotions, and with emotions, release every last bit of your self-control. Your power is all drained away. I relieve you of all decision-making. You are my sweet dumb muscle bitch, and I will take care of you.” No input was required or wanted or allowed from me, nothing but complete non-involvement. Even my slightest twitch or involuntary muscle movement might cause this Master to disallow me air, or worse … might cause them to disown me and leave me. I’d be a bitch with no Master, no user.
I’m not sure when it happened, but I realized now my head was moved to face fully upward, and at the same time, I guess, it was also tilted back to open my throat. The upper captor rose up a bit and moved his crotch just above my forehead. He must have pushed the head of his dick down to my closed lips, holding it there, patiently waiting for me to take another deep breath. When I inhaled a huge gasp, he easily slipped it in like a baseball bat being inserted into a sewer line. I didn’t cause it or prevent it.
I sucked it and worked it like a starving sex addict. I tried to seal it in my mouth with my lips, still trying to hold my breath. When I inhaled, I sucked the air in around the sides of his fat dick and then re-sealed my mouth holding the dick deep inside.
The Master captor tonguing my asshole was moaning louder and louder. My dick was still obliviously dance-bobbing in a mouth that engulfed it. I can’t make it shoot. His tongue won’t move to tease it to climax. The tongue in my ass is plunging in and out, flicking faster and faster. I felt spurts of cum hitting the side of my lower torso. It was the hot wet cream of my nerd Master coating me, marking me as his muscle bitch property. My arms and hands were no longer being held down. They were now also free to move. When did that happen? I wanted to reach down and feel the sticky ooze that tagged me, but I knew the positions of my limbs were only for important people to move and adjust. It’s not something a puta is allowed to do.
I worked the dick in my mouth with renewed vigor and desperately desired to please my captors. I now had no thought of my climax; it had absolutely nothing to do with me. The heat, billows of steam, sweat, my inability to move my limbs, the fading in and out of dizziness, my eyes shut tight, my asshole still being tongue-fucked, my mouth being trained to please a dick, and the knowledge that my body was squirted with my Master’s cum, were all sensations happening to me, not for me.
The upper captive exploded with volley after volley of cum down my throat. I had never consumed any cum before, I long wondered how it would taste, but I still didn’t know. It squirted directly down my throat without letting me sense the flavor. Shit, did I please both captors? The mouth working on my asshole stopped and removed itself. The dick in my mouth slid out as well. Fuck! Oh God! I hope I was of some use, some amusement to them. I hope they had approved of their bitch in heat, still properly fully boned up, assuming that that was their desire. I pleaded inside my own soul, “Please find me worthy of use. I promise to work out more, bulk up more, and double my workout time.”
“My big fucked-up bitch. You want me to find my muscle-putas useful and worthy, do you puta?” Master whispered, more loudly this time, to wake me from my moment of near deliriousness. Shit! He heard me? Master heard me. I thought I was mumbling to myself, but it was audible. I was so fucking humiliated.
“Good boner bitch. Yes, I agree. You will double your workouts, increase your body mass, become stronger, so I will someday find you worthy to serve me. You want to come now, don’t you, my muscle bimbo. Don’t you?” I nodded “yes” and then shook my head “no.” How do I signal to say, “Whatever you want?” I was so confused and felt my body start to tremble on its own. The other guy still had his mouth fully over my stiff dick, yet he never moved his mouth to touch my dick.
“Of course, you want to shoot your big load, but the mouth on your ridged dick is not your slave. It’s not going to give you what you want. It’s not going to give anything or do anything for you. We don’t please you. You, my sweet pile of muscle shit, must please us. The heat must be too much for you. It’ll cool you off a bit, so you will not be such a greedy pig by only thinking of self-gratification. Only when you come to realize your wants mean nothing will I allow your dick to release his pent-up load of bitch juice.”
Then I felt a gentle stream of water tickling my body. Master was cooling me down by using a squirt bottle of some type, but I could not open my eyes to see. I was told not to. It was like a continuous bead of warm water. The pleasant stream was now hitting my asshole and then directed all around it and onto my balls. The non-sucking mouth, which still contained my dancing, fully hard, rod, must be getting splashed with the water too. I understood. It was my own erotic torture with no help coming from the mouth. My dick twitched and jerked around the inside of that wet orifice, bumping into the sides of it, which kept it in constant motion.
The water felt soothing, hitting me everywhere from my thighs to my chest, and all around my belly and more on and around my asshole. I moaned. They laughed, more aloud this time.
“Puta. Think about your need to improve your body for me so I will fully enjoy the fruits of your most vigorous workouts. Sweat like a pig until every muscle in your body aches, and then keep working out. I require that. Think about your need to please only me as I continue peeing all over you, my piss-drenched puta bitch.”
Pee? Master was urinating on me! “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fucking shit!” I sobbed loudly, not knowing why. These two Masters giggled and sounded pleased with me as my body jerked and every muscle involuntarily spasmed. “My Master’s peeing on his bitch!” I yelled out. At that moment, with no help of the mouth encompassing it, my bobbing-dancing dick finally spewed splat after convulsive splat of cum in a slow, rhythmic, hard-pumping motion. My upper body was doing crunches to meet my now uplifted legs, held in a “V” shape. One crunch for each fierce squirt of cum I ejected into the hungry mouth that waited so patiently for what it created. Even after I stopped spewing semen, my body involuntarily continued its forced, slow-motion convulsive sit-ups like dry heaves to ensure I was totally void of any more cum.
At some point, I emotionally and physically collapsed. My captors must have arranged my body in a restful position on my white towel. I dozed off deeply.
When I awoke, I thought I had dreamed it all. I reached down to feel my body, it was moist, and my white towel was soaked and reeked of piss. The sauna was clear of steam and people. But how could I have stayed in the heat for so long? Of course … the sauna is now cool, and I guessed that the heat was turned off much earlier, probably long before I climaxed. Obviously, they were protecting me from getting ill from being overheated. I looked around, feeling weak and drained. I wondered exactly who they were. Certainly, patrons of the gym, at least the Master captor, had to be. But what did he look like? What did any of them look like? I saw dick, thighs, belly, and ass close-up, but the steam blurred everything else. I remembered that the lookout sounded like a young black guy, but other than that, I hadn’t no clue who any of them were. There was a large unopened bottle of water next to me, which I greedily drank half of. I felt exhausted, but weirdly, there was this sense of pride, of … … worthiness. I staggered to the glass door and exited the sauna. I noticed a hand-written note taped to the outside glass. “Sauna is broken. It will be fixed tomorrow.” This is why no one else entered the sauna while we were in there.
I took my water bottle and my piss-soaked towel, which I gripped with two fingers. I held it away from my body and ambled to my locker to get ready for a badly needed shower. It was odd. As soon as I opened my locker, my cell phone went off. This was weird. I looked up to check out if anyone was nearby. No one. I pulled the phone out of my gym bag and looked at it. There was a text. What the fuck! It was addressed to “My Muscle Puta Bitch.” My heart sank, and I gasped as I read it, “You will not shower here. Wipe the piss-soaked towel all over your body, face, and hair. Let my piss mark you as mine. Then get dressed in your sweaty clothes and leave. You will wear my scent and your sweat home. Your new task is to double your workouts. You will send me weekly nude photos showing your progress. I may or may not respond, but if I do, it will be to give further instructions. When you prove yourself to me, we will meet. This is only the beginning.”
How did he get my phone number? Did they get into my locker? I am not doing what they want. Never! That floored me. My captors were gone. I was free, free to do as I fucking wish. Free to reclaim the ownership of my own body. I re-read the text and felt weak in the knees. I didn’t have a clue how I would respond to this. How I was going to text back, “Fuck off!” I thought momentarily and figured I felt too unsteady on my feet to shower. I gathered up my things from the locker and placed them before me, my clean clothes in one pile and my dirty workout clothes in another. I was trying to clear my head, packed my clean clothes in my gym bag, and put on the dirty, sweaty clothes I worked out in, starting with my filthy jockstrap.
“What the fuck am I doing?! Shit, look at me! I can’t do this!” I said to myself in silent disgust as I shook my head. Then I removed the dirty jock and stood there naked. I pick up the piss-soaked towel.
Without thinking, I rubbed that smelly damp towel all around my dick and balls, over my legs, around to my back and ass crack, up to my chest, around my neck and along my arms and hands, and finally, all around my head, face, and hair. Then I brought it up to my face, pushed it tightly over my nose and mouth, and took several deep breaths to capture the manly scent of the piss. My dick started to become firm again. I packed the towel in my bag, not concerned that my clean clothes in there would also be wet with piss. I put on the sweaty, stinky jock and the remainder of my damp workout clothes and left a bit dazed. As I exited the gym, I immediately and accidentally bumped into a young black guy who smiled at me, saying, “Nice strong cologne you got there. It smells a little pussie piss, doesn’t it? Hope you like it.” “What?” “In fact, I know you’ll love it, since you’ll be wearing it from now on.” the youthful black lad told me. What an odd thing for him to tell a stranger. I wonder what he meant. Anyway, we each went our ways. It was just an unintended meeting of two strangers. Right?
The End
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