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This is a short story I've written inspired by the "self worship" thread (https://muscle-growth.org/topic/7756-self-worship/) - all about guys who are turned on by worshipping their own muscle bods. Check out this forum member's instagram who is the "Ken" of the story: https://www.instagram.com/ken_austin_fitness/. Ken Ken stood in front of the locker room mirror, his body covered in sweat and his pecs still heaving from the heavy work out. He couldn’t help pulling his pumped arms up into a double biceps pose. “Mmmm….FUCK!” he grunted as river-like veins popped up over his mounds of rock hard muscle. He held the pose, flexing harder and harder as more and more veins exploded under his skin, revelling in the power coursing through him. Soon, his arms were screaming in agony but still he held the flex, pushing himself, almost willing his muscles to grow even bigger. Just as he was about to pass out from the sensation Ken relaxed, letting his arms fall down by his side. A second later though he had pulled down the front of his vest, exposing his striated pecs which he then started to flex and bounce. “Look at these pecs,” he murmured under his breath as he hit each one in turn over and over, enjoying the feeling of the unyielding muscle under his fists. The sweat-soaked stringer vest had to come off. It was like Ken was in a trance as he pealed the vest up his torso and over his head before chucking it carelessly on the floor. He was lost in total self-worship of his amazing muscle body. Next Ken ran a hand up and down his cobbled 6 pack abs, flexing them hard under his fingers. “I’m a muscle God,” he moaned sexually as began to caress various muscle groups in turn – biceps…pecs…shoulders…abs…over and over, his hands continuously moving, his pumped body performing the most amazing muscle dance under his exploring fingers. He started to moan. Totally subconsciously. Lost. His cock was swelling. And swelling. Pressing out against his skin-tight gym shorts. Ken loved his body. He’d worked hard at it for this very reason. He loved being a ripped muscle God. Not caring that someone could walk in at any moment (‘Let them’, a subconscious part of his brain thought), he slipped his fingers into the waistband of his gym shorts and started to ease them down over the colossal mass of his thick tree-trunk-like quadriceps. This was some undertaking and Ken loved seeing the fabric stretch around the huge muscle bulk of his upper legs. Soon though he had them down and kicked off to somewhere on the other side of the locker room. Standing in front of the mirror still, he was now only wearing a jockstrap which failed to conceal the growing bulge of his thick muscle cock. “Look at these quads,” Ken growled as he flexed each one in turn. He loved the diamond shape which adorned the front of them and how they touched in the middle at the top of his legs, pushing his sizeable package forwards. This was why he lifted. This was why he wanted to grow and grow. “Total BEAST!” he roared, each of his muscles jumping out as his animalistic cry echoed around the locker room. He couldn’t wait any longer – the jock strap had to come off too. Ken nearly ripped it in his excitement, eager to be totally naked, everything on display. Soon his hand was wrapped around his growing cock as it quickly swelled to its full length and thickness. He started slowing jerking it, a now continuous stream of groans and moans escaping his lips. Ken’s other hand continued to explore his sweaty, pumped body, lingering over each sweaty striation, every rock-hard mound. “I LOVE MY MUSCLE BODY!” he roared. Surely people in the gym would hear him. Fuck it. Ken jerked his massive cock faster and faster. His moans were getting louder. He was a muscle animal, appreciating his own body. “Look at these massive pecs,” he groaned. His free hand kept coming back to them. Ken loved his pecs. He bounced them over and over under his exploring fingers. “Yes…SO STRONG…SO BIG!” he screamed as his cock erupted. Rivers of cum shot across the mirror, running down to the floor as Ken collapsed in a heap of pumped, sweaty Muscle God.
I don't write very often because I feel like I have nothing new to contribute to the genre, but I start to feel guilty about just consuming, once in a while, and want to write something. Here goes. It was almost 5:30 and I was starting to get steamed again. I’d been the wrestling coach at this college for almost 10 years and I’d never been shown so much disrespect. I was more than ready to show the little pipsqueak not to fuck with my authority ever again. It all started a few weeks ago when my star wrestler, Cory, flunked an important test and got his stupid ass at risk for academic ineligibility. I managed to ‘persuade’ his professor to change the grade—he was used to being the big man around campus, bet he thought he was pretty tough always grading the athletes in his class so severely. He was about 6’1” and pretty muscular, but he nothing compared to me. When I visited his class one day as all the students shuffled, I could see his eyes get wide. I’m pretty used to getting that reaction, I’m 6’5”, got wide fucking shoulders and boulders under the skin for biceps. My chest is huge, and juts out in front of me and leads the way when I need to deal with some little man who’s trying to pull one over on me. I could see the cocky professor watching my chest with wide eyes as I stepped up to him. I heaved both my pecs under my tight white tank, let him really get a look. “Up here,” I said, my chest practically pressing against his. He looked UP into my eyes and visibly gulped. I’ve got a chiseled jaw and just the faintest hint of a beard, thick, scratchy stubble, and right now I was scowling down on him. “C-can I help you?” “You might be new around here, I’m Coach Peterson. Wrestling head coach.” “N-nice to… umm,” his eyes again traveled down my body. I knew he could see my rock hard stomach through the fabric of my tank. Was he trying to look at my bulge? “M-m-meet you… Sir.” Sir? Nice. This was going to be easy. Who am I kidding, it’s always easy. “Let’s cut the bullshit. You failed one of my wrestlers on the last test. You’re going to give him a ‘D’ and he’s going to pass this class. Am I understood?” “B-but I c-c-can’t…” He stuttered. I grabbed him around the waist and, easy as anything, lifted him up, practically throwing him down to sit on the desk. He gasped and I saw his hand drift down to his crotch. “I’m not going to tell you again. I’m going to get what I want, and I don’t want to hear any more about the wrestling team getting failing grades. Otherwise I’m going to get hostile, and you don’t want me to get hostile.” I looked down at the bulge hardening in his slacks. “Or maybe you would.” But I didn’t come here to fuck some bitch, although it would’ve been easy with this muscled up professor. I just strut out of the room, flexing my shoulders as I walked, letting him see the muscle on my back explode. In the end? He gave Cory a ‘B’. Pathetic. So what’s got me so pissed off today? Well, the brush with losing his eligibility meant that Cory needed to take mandatory tutoring. That meant he had to leave practice 10 minutes early to meet his one-on-one tutor: already bad enough. To make matters work, I received a formal request from his tutor that he wouldn’t see any improvement in his grades without a lighter work load on the team. I ignored it, of course. Some pip squeak college nerd tutor wasn’t going to pull away my best wrestler. But then the little pip squeak (Stephen was his name, if I remembered right) filed an official request with the director of athletics for the college, and I was going to be under all kinds of scrutiny unless this kid dropped his request. So “in the interest of helping Cory’s grades,” I invited the tutor kid to meet with me in my office at 5:30 when he was done with Cory’s session. Of course, I was going to ‘persuade’ the kid to drop his request. There was a knock on my door promptly at 5:30. I shouted a gruff “Come in” in as deep a voice as I could. If he wasn’t shaking already, I wanted him intimidated by the time he walked in. In walked the pip squeak. He was small, about 5’9” and skinny. He wore khakis and a tucked in polo that was obviously too big on him. It looked like he was wearing his big brother’s clothes. For what a pip squeak he was, he had a handsome face, I had to admit. Face still smooth from youth, but something about the little smirk on his face made me want to wipe it right off. “Thanks for meeting with me,” he held out his hand to shake mine. I grabbed his hand and squeezed. Hard. Not hard enough to cripple the kid, but hard enough to let him know he wasn’t dealing with some weedy academic types like he was used to. “My name’s Stephen Solis.” “I’m Coach Peterson,” I answered. I tightened my grip, since it didn’t seem he was reacting to the squeeze. His hand was so fucking small in mine, it’s a wonder I didn’t crush him. He took a seat across the desk from me, didn’t even check to see if his hand was alright. Usually a guy has to kinda wave it out when I shake his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Peterson.” This kid had some nerve. Getting off on the power of his position as a fucking student tutor. I was going to show him real power. “Coach,” I growled. “Let’s cut the bullshit. You filed a request with the head of athletics, isn’t that right?” “Yes, it certainly is.” “You’re going to drop it. You’re going to tell anyone asking that Cory is doing great on his schoolwork and doesn’t need any tutoring. Am I understood?” He took a moment to breathe in, rested his elbows on the chair’s arms and folding his hands. He seemed like he was sizing me up, trying to figure out how serious I was. He probably was trying to decide if I’d actually beat him to a pulp if he said ‘no’. He didn’t look scared, though. I honestly couldn’t read him. I got more frustrated. “No. I can’t do that, Mr. Peterson. Cory was done a huge disservice in his high school education, and I won’t let that to happen to his college education, as well. It’s my responsibility to make sure students are doing the best they can. That’s why I tried to put in my initial request with you.” “Listen here,” I was practically shaking I was so mad. “You don’t understand how this works. This kid is the reason we’re going to win the title this year. I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure he’s on the mats.” “I’m sorry Mr. Peterson, but no. I’ve made my decision. It’s the best for Cory. That’s my concern.” It had been years since anyone said ‘no’ to me. It surprised me, then it infuriated me. If the kid wasn’t going to obey, I’m pretty sure I could control anyone coming to ask questions about my hurting this pip squeak. “You little pip squeak, this isn’t a discussion—“ “You’re right. I’ve made up my mind. Goodbye, Mr. Peterson.” He stood up and made for the door. I was up like a shot, taking the walk to the door in three big strides. I slammed it back closed just as he tried to open it, I held it closed. My chest was right in his face, and I was standing so much taller than him. When he looked up at me, he was still smirking. Not for long. “I don’t joke around, pip squeak.” “No. I’m sure you don’t.” He grinned up at me. “I like that. You know what? I think you’ll do.” “What the fuck are you—“ There was a sudden squeal of metal. I guess I must have gotten lost looking him in the eye, I didn’t even realize when he reached out, grabbed the metal frame of the door and bent it in, effectively pinning the door closed. I blinked twice. I tried to pull the door open, it wouldn’t budge an inch. I put my hip against the wall and tried wrenching it open. Nothing. I looked at the twisted metal, I could see the individual indents where his fingers had sunk into the metal. I touch the metal. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. “I have a feeling you have a need deep inside you, Coach.” He said the word so dismissively. Who the fuck did this little pip squeak think he was. I tried to bend the metal back, my biceps bulged and my forearms became a map of blood vessels and hard muscle. The metal wouldn’t bend at all. The pip squeak had walked back over to my desk while my mind tried to make sense of what had just happened. “You get so much out of having those big, show-off muscles. Bet it’s a long time since you’ve even had to give that body a challenge. Long time since you had to think about what real strength was.” “You piece of shit, I’m gonna choke the shit out of you.” I started after him. Was honestly going to punch the smirk off this kid’s handsome face. I barely had time to process what happened. With the most casual laugh, he stooped down, grabbed the leg of my desk, then he stood back up, bringing the entire desk with him, lifting it into the air so smoothly it might had been pulled up on wires. Then he swung the desk, one handed, like it was some kind of baseball bat. The impact threw me across the room and splintered the desk! He dropped what he was still holding and stepped over all the papers and things that had spilled off my desk. “I have a way I’d like to choke you, Coach,” there was that tone again. “I don’t usually do things like this, you know.” I scrambled up and threw the hardest punch I could. He caught it easily before it could connect with his jaw. That tiny hand against my big fist was… so fucking strong. I grimaced as it felt like that hand was going to crush my fist. “Augh!” I screamed, thought the bones in my hand were going to break. I tried to knee him with all my strength. He just batted my knee back down to the ground, causing me to collapse into a puddle on the floor. Except my torso was being held up by that rock-hard grip still holding my aching fist. “L-let go of me.” “That’s not a very polite way of asking for something, is it?” He squeezed harder and I couldn’t help the shout that came out of me. “Fuck you.” “You see Coach, I’m pretty strong. Insanely strong, actually. But I don’t feel the need to go around trying to push people around.” He walked towards a chair, dragging me behind him by my fist and outstretched arm. I couldn’t seem to find my legs, tried hard as I could to pull away. Instead, my body just slid across the floor. “Though I’ve got to admit, it feels fucking awesome to be able to show off, once in a while.” “Who the fuck are you?” I finally found my feet and tried to stand up and wrench my fist away. It didn’t budge. He chuckled. “I told you who I am, dummy.” “Wh-what are you?” All I could think about was getting my fist out of the crushing pain it was experiencing. He smiled for a minute and stepped up to me, wrenching my fist so it raised up above my head and then pushed me back to my knees. My poor fist! I would do anything, I couldn’t afford to lose my hand! “I’m the Man,” he answered, simply. I looked UP at him from down on my knees, up into that fucking smirk splitting that handsome face. “P-please let go…” I said quietly, the pain causing my voice to shake. “I can’t hear you.” “Please let go of me!” “You’re new to begging, so I’ll give you one more chance.” With that, the pressure on my fist must have doubled and I cried out in pain. “Please let go of me, Sir! Pleeeeaase!” “If I let go of you, you’re going to do what I say, or you’re going to feel this power of this hand crushing something else.” He put the toe of his dress shoe between my thighs and lightly tapped against my balls through my gym shorts. “Are you going to do what I say?” “What the fuck do you want---AUUUGHHH!” He squeezed again. “’Yes Sir’ is the answer we’re looking for here, Coach.” “Y-yes Sir! Fine! Yes Sir! Just let me go!” “Tell me your name. Your first name.” “Curtis!” “Hmm. I’ll call you ‘boy’ instead.” With that he let me go and I cradled my sore hand to my chest. I didn’t even get off my knees, trying to process what had just happened. The pain went away pretty swiftly, and I could suddenly realize that a bruise was forming on my side where I’d been hit by the desk. Also, I felt a stirring in my pants. What the fuck? “I see that excited you. Good. I knew you’d be the one.” “I’m not excited you fucking pervert!” I growled, but still didn’t get off my knees. I wasn’t ready to admit to myself yet that it was a lie: I’d been rock hard in my pants the minute I realized I couldn’t pull my hand free of his grip. “Oh, my poor little boy.” He strode over to the other side of the room and plucked one of my college wrestling trophies off the shelf. It was a big golden cup attached to a thick marble base. I kept it polished to a shine. “Don’t be shy, it’s a perfectly natural reaction to realizing you’re over-powered.” I looked away when he tried to catch my eye, afraid to stand up because my big hard cock was tenting my shorts. One of his small hands took my chin between thumb and forefinger and I flinched. He tipped my head up to look him in the eyes. My neck strained against him, but it was like he didn’t even feel the resistance. Once he was sure he had my attention, he held up the big golden trophy. He put both small hands on it, and then he crushed it. Not just crushed it, rolled the metal up into a ball like it was so much aluminum foil. The gold plated metal squelched and squeezed between his fingers like it was made of putty. He took the marble base in hand “Watch your eyes,” he said softly. Then the marble exploded under his grip, crushed to absolute dust and letting it fall to the floor. The whole remains of the trophy could fit in one of his palms. “Holy fuck,” I felt my big cock lurch in my pants. I didn’t like that feeling: I got hard dominating other muscle brutes. This little college pip—er, guy was not getting me hard. He wasn’t! But damn fuck, he was so strong. It was unbelievable. “Like I said, boy.” He reached out and started feeling my chest, rubbing his hand over the broad expanse of my pecs. “All this muscle is just for show, and I’m going to teach you some respect. And you’re going to thank me for it.” He pinched a nipple and I gasped, my hard cock dribbling some pre-cum into my shorts. “You’ve got some pretty tits, boy.” “I-I’m not… I don’t’… I don’t swing that way. I’m no queer.” I tried to call him pip-squeak but the word died on my tongue when I met his eye and saw the look of total possession in his eyes. I felt like I was going to come. “Now now,” he gently slapped my hand and I flinched again. This guy could have probably knocked my head off. “I don’t like it when my boys lie to me. You might try to hide it from your team, but I can see how much you like men. Probably never thought what you really needed was a real man to take control. I’m going to do that for you.” “No… I…” I gulped, he was now running his thumb over my lips, holding my face in one hand. I couldn’t budge, he was pushing me down so hard. Not that I could’ve stood up if I wanted to, my legs were still jello with how hard my cock was. “I’m a top…” “Not for long.” He stuck his thumb in my mouth. It pushed past my lips despite me keeping my mouth shut tight. He stroked the pad of his tongue gently over the tip of my tongue. My eyes started to close. No! I wasn’t going to put up with this! I bit down hard, at the same time I punched up with all my strength to nail him in the crotch. It wasn’t a clean fight, but I was fighting for my survival, here! My fist was again trapped, this time between his thighs. God, they felt like granite! It was the first time I happened to look at his crotch. Something in his loose khakis jumped. I thought I could just barely make out something snaking down his leg. This was all foreplay to him. Oh Christ! My eyes closed, my cock strained, leaking a wider wet spot on the front of my shorts. “No, no, boy.” He released my fist from between his rock hard thighs and resumed pushing his thumb into my mouth. I no longer tried to fight him, sucking on the thumb as a familiar feeling built up in my balls. “You don’t cum without permission.” “Can’t… can’t help it… gonna cum,” I said past the thumb in my mouth. “You mean this little pip-squeak is going to make you cum without even touching yourself?” “I’m sorry! Sorry I called you…. Unnnnf… pip-squeak!” “So you’re going to be a good boy, now?” It was so degrading, I was sucking on his thumb like it was the last thing I’d ever do, on my knees in my own office, harder than I’d ever been. I was so humiliated. I was so turned on. A part of me screamed to get up! I tried to spit the thumb out of my mouth, but of course I couldn’t. My big cock strained. “You can beat the shit out of me, but I’m never going to be your boy!” I said, though I couldn’t believe the voice that came out of me. I didn’t sound certain at all. But I could take a licking, my muscles weren’t for show. They weren’t! If I can’t beat this guy, I can take whatever he throws at me… couldn’t I? “You’re already my boy,” he laughed. He lightly slapped my face again. “You’re going to like this a lot more once you submit.” “Never!” Never? He pushed my head down till my face was right in the crotch of his slacks. I could catch his scent, being this close. God, it smelled like muscle sex. The kind of scent that takes over everything else in the room, the scent that sticks around when a powerful man’s gotten what he wants, whether it be a hard workout or a tight ass to fuck. My head was swimming, I couldn’t take my eyes off what I thought might be his cock, my shoulders relaxed and I sagged. I wanted to bury my nose between his legs, but I was so afraid to touch him. Partly because I was afraid what it would say about me, but I have to admit, it was mostly because I hadn’t been given permission. “I think you can be a good boy,” he lectured. “I’m the man to show you what a good boy you can be. I always get what I want, but I know you want it, too.” I didn’t even notice he had taken his hand off my head, I just stayed exactly where he put me. He stroked my hair. Like I was a fucking pet. “Don’t you?” I grunted, I didn’t know what I wanted, anymore. My grunt came out more as a gasp as his small hand massaged the back of my neck. “Use your words, boy. You want me.” “I… I…” “You what, boy?” “I do. I want it. Fuck, what the fuck is happening to me?” “You’re finding your place,” he chuckled. “And good boys get rewarded.” He pushed my face roughly into his crotch, I buried my nose in the fabric drawn tight by his hard-on. Fuck, that scent! I had my mouth open, gasping in the stud’s scent. I’d never felt anything like this. “You’re going to be a good boy?” “Yes. Yes!” My tongue lolled out of my mouth and I licked at his balls beneath the khakis. “Yes Sir!” “Tell me that you’re going to be a good boy.” “I’m going to be your good boy!” I said, loathe to take my mouth off his package. The next thing I knew, he was pulling back, I chased him with my tongue, but he held me back with a hand on my forehead. There was no way I could move, now. I whimpered. I whimpered? Oh fuck. “Stand up.” He stepped back and sat himself down in one of my chairs. I slowly got to my feet, I felt self-conscious. I felt defeated. I felt horny as hell. I tried to straighten my shoulders as I came to my full height, but looking at the stud smirking up at me made me cower a little bit. My big cock was peeking out the top of my shorts, and the wet spot had spread to the hem of my tight tank. “Time to learn how to show off those muscles for your man. Take off your clothes.” I stammered, but my hands were already working to pull my tank off of my torso. “Stop,” he said calmly, and I stopped immediately. “You’re going to show off. Don’t make me repeat myself, boy.” “Yes Sir.” The words just came out. I started again, running my hands over my rock hard stomach as it was exposed. This stud got turned on dominating me. Dominating me! I wanted to show him I was still hot, even if he was the better man in the room. I needed to prove I was worth something, even though I couldn’t match his strength. He had called me a show-off… god, he was right. Everything I wore, every way I acted, all to show off this body. This weak fucking body that had never been defeated before on the mat or otherwise. When my pecs were exposed, I cupped them each in my hands and flexed, running my fingers through the thick hair. He looked pleased and my cock jumped in excitement. I hadn’t had to impress anyone since I started wrestling in high school, wanting to prove myself to my coach. This was like that, but different. I always wanted my coach to respect me. I knew the stud sitting in front of me could never respect me like that. So what did I want? “You’re going to earn this cock after all, boy.” Fuck. His cock. My mouth started to water, but I couldn’t admit it to myself. “Turn around and take off those shorts.” “Yes Sir,” I said, turning around. I didn’t know what to do, if I wanted to earn his cock, I needed to show off. I’d never shown off my muscle ass before. Everyone was always focused on my huge cock. I pulled down the waistband of my shorts and sort of rocked my hips. God, would he be pleased by my ass? I had never felt so shy. But I’d been ordered. I slid the waistband down below my ass cheeks, the were being held up just by my powerful thighs. I reached back with a trembling hand and took hold of one of my muscled ass cheeks, giving it a squeeze. “All the way off, boy.” I slid my shorts the rest of the way down, I wasn’t wearing underwear, so now I stood in my own office buck naked at the command of the 5’9” stud who had to be the strongest person in the world. The stud who had made me his boy. I looked down and saw how red and hard my cock was. I just knew he’d be impressed by my cock… maybe he’d just want to suck it and then he’d let me get dressed. I could still pretend like this never happened. “Everything’s changed, now, boy.” His voice gave me chills. He was right. There was no going back. This man was going to lead me wherever he wanted me to be. “Turn around.” I slowly turned around. He was leaning back in his chair, running his hand over the fat bulge in his pants. He looked me up and down like he was choosing a steak. Then he stood up. He pointed to the ground in front of him and I scrambled to kneel there, back in range of his manly fucking scent. “Guess what this man is going to have his little boy do next?” He said, voice low with lust. “S-suck your cock?” I asked, almost begging. “Good boy.” He unzipped his pants and pushed them down, pulling aside the band off his underwear too. I could see the base of his cock, bent uncomfortably into his pants. He was… thick. He was so fucking thick! He had to fish into his pants and cant his hips to free the rest of his cock, hauling it out and letting it bob in front of my face. He wasn’t fully hard yet, and his cock was the biggest I’d ever seen. Even in porn. Even in my wildest dreams, I didn’t have a cock that big. “Holy fuck…” I gasped. There was a glimmer of pre-cum on the tip where it was peeking out of his foreskin. As I watched in awe, his cock raised up to finally harden at an angle to his torso. How the fuck could he even hold that thing up? I reached up to touch it, mesmerized. “Not till your told.” And I lowered my hand again. I moved to take hold of my own dick, but stopped because I hadn’t been ordered to. Instead I tried to focus on that scent, flooding my senses now that his pants were open. He took his cock in hand, his small hands couldn’t even close around the base. How did he jack off? I gulped when I realized he probably didn’t need to jerk off. This man used a boy when he needed to get off. I was the latest conquest. Fuck! He lifted his cock and slapped my face with it, hard, five times. The fleshy bat whacked against my cheeks, left a streak of pre-cum in my stubble. I didn’t realize I had opened my mouth until his cock slapped against my tongue. “If I wanted to, I could knock you across the room just by swinging my big cock at your face.” I didn’t feel threatened, I felt electrified. Imagined what it’d be like to be knocked to the ground just by a real man’s cock. “You know what to do.” Oh god, I did know what to do! “Please, Sir, can I suck—can I worship your fucking huge fucking cock?” I bravely looked up into his eyes, he was smiling at me affectionately. There was no challenge in his gaze. I was no challenge to him at all. “That mouth is mine,” he declared. I stuck out my tongue and nodded hastily. “Prove it.” I fell on his cock like I was starving for it, trying to fit the head in my mouth. It was hard as steel and pulsing against my tongue once I got it in. But the head wasn’t even the thickest part of his cock, and my lips were stretched as he pushed in. There was nothing I could do to stop him, so I tried to please him. Tried to wriggle my tongue into his foreskin, I got a thick taste of this MAN. The head of his cock battered into the back of my throat and I whimpered. I wanted to prove I could take him all the way. I wanted him to make me take him all the way. He was taking pleasure from me faster than I could willingly give it to him. It was true domination. My little dick lurched and my balls churned. He lifted the hem of his loose polo and I balked. The incredible hair at the base of his monster cock led up into a treasure trail of blonde hairs up to his belly button, and what appeared to be the deepest cut abs I’d ever seen. I couldn’t believe it, he was so small and looked so skinny. I reached up to brace myself on his thighs and once against felt the steel hard strands of his muscle there too. I whined because I thought I was going to cum right there. But I couldn’t: I hadn’t been ordered! “Starting to get an idea of what real power looks like, little boy,” he lectured, taking control and pushing his cock into my throat, gagging me. “Who’s choking whom, now, boy?” I choked and gasped and my eyes watered as that big head pushed deeper in my throat. “You’re pretty inexperienced at giving blow-jobs, but the enthusiasm is appreciated. Don’t worry. This Man’s going to make sure you learn what you need to learn. No matter how long it takes.” My head was swimming and I was almost losing consciousness, but I was so grateful he was going to train me how to take his cock. He pulled out and I hollowed out my cheeks trying to keep his monster cock in my mouth desperately, but of course I was no match for him. He pulled out and his cock was now shining with spit. He reached his hand down, gently collected one of my tears on his thumb, then fed it to me. I sucked onto his thumb like I was auditioning to be his cocksucker. “That’s a good boy. Crying around my cock.” He pulled out his thumb and put his leaking cockhead back against my lips. “If your team could see you now. Showed you your place.” God imagining my team watching me! It wasn’t fair, though! They didn’t know what it was like to serve a real man! Anyone would go to his knees for this stud! I was lucky he chose me as his next notch. Team be damned if they couldn’t understand that! I sucked his cock again vigorously, but it wasn’t long before he took control again, fucking my face. Tracing the outline of his cockhead in my throat with one teasing finger. I just drooled and cried and whined. “Not a man. Just a fucktoy,” he laughed after a few minutes, once I finally pressed my wet face against his steel hard hips, his cock completely inside me. We stayed like that for a moment, him grinding my nose into his pubes, that scent causing my throat to lock down and massage his shaft. “I know just how to play with you to get what I want.” He reached down and twisted my nipple on my bigger but weaker tits with his small fingers. I whimpered and tried to stick out my tongue to wash his balls while he dominated my mouth. He pulled out and left me coughing, but staring him in the eye, tongue out, ready to be used again. “There’s something you want to say to me, isn’t there, bitch boy?” “Yes Sir…” “Say it.” “Th-thank you, Sir! Thank you for making me your f-f-fuck toy.” “And what else?” “Use me however you want,” my chest heaved as I took in sharp breaths. My naked body was coated in a sheen of sweat, big tits rising up and down, muscle packed stomach pushing in and out. “Didn’t I tell you I get what I want?” “Yes Sir!” Despite being so much bigger, I had never felt so small. This freshman college kid, barely had stubble on his face, was using me as his private fuck toy, and I loved it! In the next moment he had hauled me to my feet. He pulled his shirt off and I marveled at his body. He was rock hard everywhere. His biceps were small and cut, his chest was so hard I could see every striation of his taut muscle. It looked like his nipples could cut glass. I mumbled out a feeble ‘Oh Sir!’ and longed to touch him, but I hadn’t been ordered. He stooped and put his arm between my legs, flexing his rock solid bi against my taint, lifting me off the ground with one arm like I was lighter than a feather. “I’m going to use that hole, boy. Going to make sure that pussy I own is trained before I go.” “Oh fuck!” He carried me across the room, my feet dangling between his legs. I was going to cum! I was going to cum! But I couldn’t, I had to impress him, I had to prove myself to be a good bitch. I knew I’d never cum again without thinking about this stud. He set me down on the remainders of my desk, laid me on my back like a Daddy putting down his baby boy. “Want to see your face the first time I use my fuck hole.” I screamed when his lubed up cockhead slid past the ring of my ass. He was moving so slow, but his entry was totally inevitable. I clenched down my hole, I tried so hard to open up for him, but my body knew what he really wanted: to conquer my ass the same way he conquered my muscles. And he did, he slid into me without stopping until he was buried to the hilt. My world exploded with pain, but my cock drooled more pre onto my hairy abs. “That’s what I like to see. Don’t worry, bitch, your Daddy’s got you.” He laughed and slid his cock slowly out before pushing back in. All of the sudden the pain disappeared. I felt full. So incredibly full, like I’d never been. God what had I been missing not bottoming before now? But it didn’t matter, I knew nobody could ever fill me up like this ever again. What use was there bottoming to inferior men? But what use was there pretending to be a top anymore, either? Oh god, he changed me! The head of his cock brushed against my prostate with each push in, and I moaned like a whore. I fought to keep my eyes open—he wanted to see my eyes while he plowed me—but it was so hard. He reached up and twisted my nips again, I clenched down hard on his shaft. He was playing me like an instrument, knew just how to make me give him more pressure, knew how to open me up. He knew me better than I knew myself, he knew how to make sure he got what he wanted out of a willing bitch. That was me. Christ, that was me! I was his bitch! “Thank you Sir!” I shouted out as he powered in and out of me. “I know, bitch boy. I know.” God I loved that cocky smirk, it made me blush and made my hole pulse just seeing it. God I’d dream about looking down the length of my built body to see this Alpha smirking down on me. He fucked me for what felt like hours. It got dark outside and he was still coaching me on how to be a better bitch for him, still twisting my nips and slapping my face, spanking my ass until it was red. Anything he had to do to make me tighten my pussy here or open it up here. No matter how much I clenched down it must feel like nothing to that strongman cock, but I tried anyway. “Lucky you can’t get pregnant, boy. Cuz I’m going to shoot such a load in you.” “Breed me! Please Sir!” “I know you want it, my dirty little whore. Know what a slut you are for my big cock and huge load.” He stroked the fur on my abs. I was sobbing now, eyes foggy with tears. I’d never felt anything so good. “I fucking need it, Sir! Need it… need it…” “I know. Trust Daddy.” “Yes, Daddy!” God he was everything. He changed his angle and started ramming into a new spot inside me. My little dick lurched, my balls drew up. “Cum, bitch. Now,” he commanded. I obeyed. It felt so good to obey! I shouted and hit myself in the face with the load that rocketed out of my dick. My face was dripping and I was crying softly and trying to catch my breath when the last spurt landed on my tits. “Little load from a little boy,” he growled, every muscle on his perfect torso was flexing in sharp relief. Maybe someday he would let me worship his chest… “Here I cum, bitch.” “Please, Daddy! His body went rigid and his eyes closed, then I felt a warm, wet pressure in my pussy as he bred me. God he was shooting so hard, buried to the hilt inside me, making room for his cum. He thrust as he came, making the desk screech across the floor with me on it. If I felt full before, it was nothing compared to this. After nine hard shots, he pulled his cock out of my pussy and it fountained cum up into the air and down onto my chest, my face, into my mouth. I could feel the cum pouring out of my stretched hole while cum rained down on me, burning hot. I clenched my hole to keep it inside, and I stuck out my tongue. When he stopped shooting, his cock was still hard, rampant and huge compared to my own softening little dick. He chuckled again and smirked down at me. He let my legs fall and strode over to the other side of the desk. He yanked me so my head hung down off the desk upside down, then he put the wet head of his cock between my lips and I sucked and sucked and tried to clean him as best I could. He played with my nipples like I’d been a good pet. When he pulled his cock from between my lips, he strode over to where I’d dropped my clothes. He picked up my tank top and used it to dry the rest of the spit and cum off his cock, dried off his sweaty balls. “You’ll wear that tank tomorrow to work. I suspect you’re never going to want to wash this thing, anymore.” I was so weak I could barely muster a ‘yes sir.’ But I did, because that’s what my owner expected. “I plan on using that pussy again, bitch boy. And I might not be so gentle next time. Keep that pussy ready for me.” With that, he walked back to the door and bent the frame back into place, opening the door and walking out like nothing had happened. He left the door open. It was good almost everyone had gone home, otherwise they would have seen me lying naked and soaked and leaking cum, without the strength to even cross the floor of my ruined office and close the door.