Long Form Roleplayers

11:25 DerekDrake: At the gym, about 2am. It's when I like to workout best. I keep strange hours, cause I don't have a flashy job. I'm self employed, a thief, sometimes bouncer, and more and more, getting gigs for the local mafia to shake down fuckers for their protection racket. Not having had a normal childhood, I was on the streets from 14 years old, and learned how to take care of myself. I started finding ways to earn money, while managing to keep the law from tracking me down.

Ending up on the wrong end of my first couple of streetfights, I didn't cry about it, but pushed myself to adapt and grow. Using my criminal earnings, I invested heavily in my body, getting a gym membership, eating right, building up my body till I looked like a greek god.

To complete my investment, I joined an MMA gym, learned how to groundfight, streetfight, and fistfight, earning myself a black belt at the academy by the time I turned 20. I didn't lose many fights anymore, and my skills with my feet and fists were gaining such reputation in shady circles that even though I wasn't a big bruiser looking man, bars wanted to hire me as a bouncer.

Building my body, learning to fight, earning my way, built me into a utterly self-confident male specimen, with an attitude of taking what I wanted. I could smooth talk people when I needed to, or trash talk them, or ignore them. But I am in reality, a ruthless self-centered bastard with a streak of sadism a mile wide, and a horny fucker to boot. I never really developed a taste for chicks, I'd tried 'em once or twice, but I prefered to take my fuck holes hard and brutally, and nothing made my nuts churn like the prospect of a hard, hot fight followed by raping my defeated man six ways to sunday.

Sometimes I wondered what it might be like to have a dude around I could fuck whenever I liked, train with, workout with, beat up when I got bored, but I hadn't spent much time bothered about it. Why should I? I’m 22, on top of the fucking world, cocky, arrogant, strong, in control and loving what I do, namely dominating everyone who gets in my way.

I finished my workout in the gym, benchpressing a hefty 150 kilos and making it look easy for three reps. I racked the weights, then made my way back to the locker room, pushing open the door. I looked around, there was a young, stocky, thickly muscled dude who was just changing. Must have entered just a minute ago. Other than him, the gym, and the locker room were deserted. My dick twitched slightly, thinking about how hot it would be fuck that beefy muscle up, but it was too late, maybe another time. I turned and pulled off my t-shirt, then opened my locker door, and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the dude looking at my perfect muscle.

I grinned. Maybe it wasn't too late. "Hey Pussy boy, what the fuck do you think you are doing, checking me out? Never seen a real man before?" I flex my muscle casually, giving off waves of cocky, muscled in your face attitude.
13:17 StockyJock: It’s hot in my building. I’m lying in my bed, wide awake, sheets tangled around me. It’s like almost 2am and I can’t sleep. Had lots of shit on my mind recently. I call the girl I’m kinda into to see if she’s up for a late night booty call, but she’s mad that I’ve woken her up and says something about me being too into myself and just taking all the time – fuckin bitch. So what? I know I’m good looking, no point lying to myself. Some could call it narcissism, I call it honesty.
I’m angry and my mind is racing. I decide to go to the gym, cool off. It’s only a block away from my College dorm and it’ll be empty at this time. I could use the university gym, it’s shinier, but I prefer this one. The dudes here are more serious about lifting, getting swole, sharing tips. I don’t fight much, unlike most of the regulars, but I can get supps to boost my performance easily enough and they got better weights. Besides, patrons are allowed access 24/7 which helps with my early morning anger issues.
I pull on some gym shorts and t-shirt I got lying around. They could be a little fresher, but I’ll be the only one at the gym, so who gives a fuck. I slip on a hoodie, it’s a little tight around the chest and arms, but I like that. I check myself out in the mirror as I walk out my room, smiling at my own reflection, feeling my own cock swell a little. I’m not like a bodybuilder, but I’m proud of my square, fireplug physique. Dudes don’t tend to mess with me, and it’s fun to mess around with
As I expected, the street is quiet and the gym looks deserted, even the early morning crowd don’t usually start until like 5.30 or 6am. I make my way to the locker room and pull off my hoodie, when a dude walks in. Tough looking fucker, he’s a little taller than me, but not as big overall. When he takes off his t-shirt, I notice his fuckin shredded back – this guys got some serious regime going. I wonder if it’s hard muscle or…
Then he starts mouthing off, calling me a pussy, accusing me of checking him out! Flexing a little, trying to make it look casual. As if?! I’m like 110% straight. I was just starting to calm down, but he’s riled me.
“Fuck off bro. Not into that shit.” I say through clenched teeth, trying not to sound as pissed as I feel, as i shove my hoodie into a locker. I turn to leave the locker room.
15:56 DerekDrake: I stand there, my muscles rippling as I take in your response. I smile harder. Oh hell yeah, I think to myself, we are gonna have fun tonight. I stand up and step in front of you, deliberately blocking your way. I say to you, in a casual, cool voice, "Not your 'bro', fuckwad. You don't tell your 'bros' to fuck off. And you don't check out your 'bros' bods without asking first, PUSSY. I think I need to teach you some proper manners. You probably won't like the lesson, but I will."
16:30 StockyJock: Douchebag, you are really starting to push my buttons, dumb smile on your face, patronising tone, threatening me. I pull off my T-shirt, puffing up my beefy pecs. I’m not as ripped, chunkier than you, but I got size. I step right up to you forcing my pecs into yours. “Move” I say, I pause before adding “bro”.
19:03 DerekDrake: I look down at your pecs, then slowly move up to your face as I stand there, feeling your beefy pecs against mine. Gotta admit, your beef is pretty sweet. Wouldn't mind taking it for a test drive. I sniff for a second, then I smirk at you, "Fuckwad, you are RANK." My dick twitches just a bit though, 'cause there is something about the deep smell of a man's sweat that gets my nuts tingling. "Something crawl up your ass and die?"

I push you back gently, then suddenly my powerful muscle erupts into violence. I grab your right wrist, thrust it up, turn and drive my back into your muscled pecs. I yank your muscular right arm down over my shoulder and heave forward, judo flipping you brutally over my shoulder to land BAMMMMMMMMMM on the hard tiled gym floor, the motion wrenching your arm in the process.

Then, I finally answer you, "No, not gonna move 'bro'. What do you plan to do about it?"
20:05 StockyJock: I don’t like to admit it, but I liked the feeling of my pecs against yours, skin on skin. I know I kinda stink right now, was planning on having a shower after my work out, but you sound like that bitch I was seeing when you whine about it. What’s wrong with smelling like a dude is supposed to?

I have no time to think though, as you whip me over your shoulder and I crash into the cold, hard floor. Fuck me, you’re quick and my right arm is killing me. Lying prone on the ground, all I can do is scramble to my feet while you’re mouthing off again, adjusting my package in my shorts.

“I’m going to fucking kill you motherfucker” I yell at you, losing the douchebro persona, as I charge forward at you, my big ham-like fists flying at your head. I don’t like being humiliated, especially by dudes smaller than me, however much training you might have.
03:37 DerekDrake: You yell at me, losing the rag, charging at me, while I keep my cool. You are a big boy, but I like big boys. Your aggression and rage is turning me on, and more than that, something behind all that bluster. My sharp eyes take in everything around me, all the time, especially in the middle of a fight. That's street smarts. And I noticed how you adjusted your package as you scrambled back to your feet. Very interesting. My dick twitches again.

You come in like a bull, telegraphing yourself a mile off. I drop down low as your ham-like fists miss my head by a mile, cocking my right fist as I drop down, flexing my hard, tight bicep, power rippling through my muscle as I drive my right fist forward right into your gym-shorts covered package. BAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

Ooozing cool, cocky, confidence, I speak up again, "Damn, nothing wakes you up like getting your baby makers mashed up, does it bro?" My cock tingles again, starts to stiffen now in my own gym shorts, as I stand back up, fists at the ready, an evil, horny light in my eyes as my face is twisted into a sadistic, half-smile.
07:22 StockyJock: Your fist feels like solid steel. I practically run my own nuts into it, my momentum and weight adding to the incredible force as you connect with my privates. I gulp a couple times as my dull mind struggles to take in the sheer pain radiating from my penis and testicles. My hands go to nurse them, and I drop to my knees, as I see you rising and standing over me, spouting something.
I’m not the most perceptive judge of character, but even I know the look in your eyes, and the tone of your voice. I know it because it’s how I feel when I’m having sadistic fun, humiliating those who deserve it, showing others who is boss. I know, and it frightens me to be on the other side of it.
I try desperately to ignore the throbbing pain in my groin. I scramble back against the lockers and raise my fists to defend myself against whatever you’re planning.
07:45 DerekDrake: My cock is raging now, feeding off your fear, your pain. My eyes are drinking in your muscle as I see the look of fear in your eyes. I recognize another bully. Hell, I'm a bully. The difference is I'm a bully and a MAN. You are just a bully and a BOY. Maybe... I think briefly, maybe this one might be a keeper... Not sure where that thought came from, but I push forward, the sadistic gleam in my eyes at the thought of dismantling your body and your mind fills me with it's usual thrill.

My cock is obviously rock hard. I watch you raise your fists to defend yourself, then suddenly spin on foot, driving my adidas sneaker in a spinning back kick, my weapons-grade muscled kick blasting like a missile into your thick, muscled abs, smashing your hot muscle between my foot and the locker behind you, ignoring your raised fists all together.
09:09 StockyJock: I know now I’m being totally outclassed by you, you’re clearly a fighter, and clearly a tougher dude than you look. You’re standing between me and the only escape route and I’m not sure I’d outrun you anyway, I’ve never been fast. These thoughts are trivial though, as I’m in no state to even get up.

The lockers give a deafening clang and buckle behind my back as you drive into my abs, your foot almost reaching the metal behind as my insides are brutally compressed. Being a solidly built dude, I’m pretty strong in my core, but this caught me off guard and my muscle gut wasn’t flexed.

I slide against the hard metal lockers and collapse onto my side, my big left arm holding me up, my right arm, painful from the wrenching, outstretched. I’m spitting a little blood from god knows what internal injury. My stomach churns and I struggle to keep hold of my dinner. “Please bro.” I plead. “Enough! What do you want?” I moan.
10:08 DerekDrake: My cock surges as I feel how deep my foot sinks into your muscled core. Fuck, I caught you totally off guard, you didn't even have the street sense to keep your abs tight in a fight! I realize then that you are fucking totally all bluster, all hot air, with almost nothing but some hot gym built muscle to back up your attitude.

My foot snaps down, retracting and snapping back to the ground next to my other foot as I trace your progress as you slide down the lockers, and collapse onto your side, still favouring your well-built right arm from the earlier judo-toss induced wrenching.

You even spit up some blood, and I know with that one kick, combined with your utter lack of fight sense, I've really fucked you up bad, broken right through your bluster and attitude. And what I'm seeing now is the real you. The vulnerable you.

My cock twitches again, and fascinated, I reach down, and almost gently wipe the blood away from your mouth, and smear it across my chest. When you plead with me, the tone and quality of your voice, the emotion it delivers sinks right into my guts.

I smile then. I awnser your question then, honestly, "I wasn't sure at first ,bro, but now I am. I've got a job to do. Teaching a boy who thinks he's a man the difference between illusion and reality. And by the time I'm done, you'll have earned the right to call me bro. Not through any efforts of your own. But through my choice." It's not the kind of thing that most people would expect out of a self-taught, utterly self-centered, street criminal. But then, I make a point never to live up to others expectations. Only my own.

"Let's start the process by taking a look at what you are packing." I reach down, my tight, thick arms rippling with power, and grab the waistband of your fucking stinking, dirty gym trunks. My nose wrinkles, but I yank hard, ripping your trunks down, and your underpants, in a single explosive move, exposing your cock and balls. I check out what you are packing, and I was right.
10:37 StockyJock: You crouch down to me and I flinch away, trying to shield my face, but you’re weirdly gentle. The look on your face doesn’t suggest kindness exactly, more like intrigue. You wipe my mouth and even your fingers feel strong, moving with a confidence that I envy. I get mad and I lash out, unable to control my feelings. You seem in total control. That you rub my blood on your body is kinda creepy, but also makes my cock swell a little.

You talk of teaching me, that I’m not a man. The way you deliver it, it sounds kind, altruistic, but you’re pressing my buttons, working on my insecurities and this makes me nervous. The slight against me is real and my blood boils inside. I control the bubbling urge to smash your face for now, but I will teach you a lesson in humility.

I see your attention shift, your eyes travelling down my body from my face, stopping at my shorts... A look of horror crosses my face, Oh god! No!

But I’m not quick enough as you pull down my shorts (no underwear, I go commando) to my knees. There is a nasty, musky smell as you reveal one of my biggest secrets. I may have a huge, bully body, but my cock and balls don’t match up to that size, looking even smaller even because of my overworked gym swollen muscle. I cover up my groin with my free hand, but I know it’s too late. The knowing smile on your face tells me you’ve seen.

“Look bro. It’s... I’m... ummm... FUUUUUUUUCCK!” I yell at you, losing control of my emotions again. Struggling to my feet, desperately trying to pull my shorts, bunched around my knees, up and over my trunk like quads.
15:30 DerekDrake: I drink in your reaction completely, your shame, your embarrassment, your humiliation like a nectar to my inner sadist.

I step back and stand up, fists in place as I watch you scramble, trying to offer some kind of broken, incoherent excuse for your pathetic manhood. I laugh, "Shit bro... have you EVER even been with a chick? Would they have even notice if you did fuck them? Man, I bet your girl would be better off using a toothpick."

Then you scramble, the shame causing you to temporarily surge up, overcoming your injuries and fear. You start to pull your shorts up, when they get up around your thighs, I act, "Nuh Uh bro... Why try to hide it? You can barely see it anyway." My foot kicks out, the top of my foot snapping up in a quick, precise kick, smashing your small package up against the pubic bone. Simultaneously, my hand shoots out and the palm of my hand smashes into your chest, holding you upright so you won't be able to double up after I kick your nuts, with enough pressure to keep you from sliding down the lockers behind you if your legs should give out.

Then I snarl, "Fucking man up bro." I cock my free right hand, and blast it forward in a hard, savage cross the CRUNCHES deep into the side of your jaw, savagely snapping your head to the side.
17:44 StockyJock: with a chick. I’ve always made some excuse at the last moment like a big game the following day, or being tired from the gym. Sure, I get blue balls and frustrated, but this feels like the sacrifice I have to make to keep my secret.

Your foot crunches my dick up into my groin, sending indescribable pain through my weakened body and simultaneous you push into my chest. My back is against the lockers, pinned with my busted cock and balls hanging out. I try to break free of your hold, but then you crash your fist across my jaw. I feel something give as my skull feels like it’s been hit by a missile, my thick neck and well developed traps no match for your brutality.

My legs give way, but your palm, pressing hard into my chest, holds me up. My body dangles, limp, and I feel ribs starting to crack from the force of your palm on my sternum. I manage to smack your hand away, or maybe you wanted me to, and I collapse onto the floor. I start crawling in the only direction I can see that is away from you. Stupidly, I’m making my way into the showers. The truth is that no, I haven’t ever really been...
19:23 DerekDrake: I look into your face and read the shame that my words cause. Your cock is truly pathetic. My own cock, 8" long and dubbed the "beercan" by those privileged enough to feel it up their ass, could swallow your tiny cock whole.

You swipe your hand up across my hand as I've got it pressed against your sternum. I'm impressed... you still have some spunk left. That makes my dick hard, cause it means I get to beat it out of you. I don't resist, wanting to see what you do next. So battered that you can't even walk, you collapse to the floor and crawl like a puny worm. I pace you for a few feet as you try to make it to the showers. "So bro, you finally going to do something about that rank odor?" Lean down and sniff as you crawl. I move my head a bit closer towards your ass between your legs. "Fuck you bro. That smell is coming from your junk. That is truly skank." But my dick hardens a bit. I keep myself pretty clean, but the truth is, the smell of rank man sweat always gets my nuts churning. Wierdly, I like your smell, but I'm not gonna let you know that.

Then, I reach down with my right hand and grab you by your package, having to grip really tight to keep the puny little orbs and cock from slipping out of my grip. My other hand grabs you by your right wrist, the same arm I fucked with earlier in the little judo demonstration.

Then, by that arm and your nuts, I drag you bodily into the showers. I drag you across the floor of the slick tiles, then twist, and with a "1" and a "2" and a "3", heave your muscled ass across the slick floor, watching your body tumble until you crash into the wall beneath one of the showers.
12:01 StockyJock: I don’t know why I’m crawling away from you, I know it won’t make any difference really, but something instinctive makes me want to get away, I can’t help it. You follow me slowly, taunting me about how disgusting I am. You don’t need to say it, I know I am. I’ve avoided public showers after working out for such a long time that I’ve grown to like my own body odor. There is something about the smell of a gym, of sweaty dudes changing after sport, of a jock on a hot day, that gets me hard, I can’t fucking help it! It doesn’t mean anything.

As I’m slowly moving along the floor, you get a grip on my sack, cruelly tightening your hand around my junk. I can’t pull away and you add to your control by pulling at my injured right arm. I scream in pain and try to shake you off but you ignore my protests and drag me across the floor, slide me against the wall.

I hit my head on the hard tiles, a small cut opening up above my eye. I scramble up, my back against the wall. Only now do I realise my mistake, I’ve totally backed myself into a corner. I start yelling out “FUUUCK! SHIT!” cursing myself for my own dumb stupidity. I then turn to you, my voice quivering, a pathetic, dumb look on my otherwise cute face. I try to speak but no words come out, only heavy breathing, my wide chest visibly rising and falling with stuttering breaths.
13:55 DerekDrake: I stand in front of you, watching carefully as you yell out in anger? Fear? A delicious mix of both most definetly. I reach out with one fiinger and trace the small trickle of blood working it's way down your cheek. I hold it in front of your eye, then wipe it on my chest. For no other reason than to fuck with your head.

I look at you standing there, trembling. All the hefty, gym built muscle was made to look at, not to be used in a real fight.
I grin, and almost in a friendly manner, slap your muscled chest a time or two. Then I check out your arms, feeling up your biceps. I nod in appreciation of the thick beef.

I examine your face carefully, noting that you really are a pretty cute dude, good looking, handsome even. But the pathetic wide-eyed look of stupidity and fear on your face really shows me what you need. Your whole body is trembling, your broad, thick pecs your arms, your beefy abs. All trembling with fear.

I speak up then, "Bro... you really need to grow a pair." I cock my fist, my tatted bicep rippling with fight-trained power, pops into definition, as big and hard as a baseball. Then, I drill that fist forward, burying it to the hilt in your guts.

I step forward, letting you crumble like a house of cards, except I don't, not exactly. I snap my foot up as you are on the way down, and the kick I deliver underneath your jaw is wickedly savage. Your head snaps back at a severe angle, might have given you whiplash. Your downward momentum temporarily arrested, you snap back up, then... in slow motion topple forward again at my feet.
17:18 StockyJock: I’m practically paralysed before you, too afraid of making any move that you could exploit. Sure I’m big, but I don’t usually have to actually use my size, picking on those much smaller than be, bigger dudes assuming I’m going to beat them to shit if they mess. You’ve called my bluff, exposed if for the lie I know it is.

I stand and weakly let you touch me, wiping my bloody face, smack my chest, squeeze my arms. I can’t lie, your hands feel electric on my skin, each touch a terrifying thrill. My exposed cock twitches and shamefully grows solid. You’re gradually breaking down every element of what it really means to be me, my secrets and my fears. Literally exposing me and breaking me mentally as well as physically. I just don’t know when it’s going to end.

With a suddenness I should now be expecting, you punch my abs, now softened and broken, hard and straight. I double up, wanting to crawl back onto the floor. But you don’t allow weakness, and I feel my jaw connect with your foot, or perhaps the other way around, a jolt so sudden that I feel a burning in my neck and my back spasms and locks. I have a surprised look on my face, seeing stars, as I am upright and then I fall, straight down, like a felled tree. My still hard cock hitting the ground first and painfully squashing up into my pelvis. My head hits the floor with a loud crack and I am knocked out cold.
19:09 DerekDrake: I stand there as you topple like a tree, feeling an enormous sense of satisfaction when you crash into the floor, knocked the fuck out cold. It feels so good to have broken your body so spectacularly and savagely. My cock is raging so hard that my shorts are tented. I kneel down, and rub my hands up and down your back, digging my fingers into the thick beef. I take my hand down your to your naked ass. I poke my index finger around your hole. Time to explore that soon enough.

I wedge my hands underneath you, one under your thigh, the other under your chest. I heave you over onto your back, with my finger I trace the contours of your cute face, drag my finger through the fur of your sexy little beard. I admit quite honestly to myself that I am becoming.... taken with my prey. It doesn't happen often, but there is about you such a delicious mix of innocence, masculinity, bravado, and vulnerability that somehow appeals.

I hear you start to moan, and I wipe some of the blood off your face in a nearly gentle gesture. My cocky, half smile naturally comes back into place as your eyelids start to flutter open. As you wake up, one of my hands casually reaches down and grabs your pencil thin, but quite noticably hard cock.

I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart, I know what makes people tick. Your mouth and your attitude were saying one thing, but here is your cock telling me the truth. Interesting. My other hand is gently covering your left pec, providing just a small taste of body contact, while my pinky is gently flicking your left nip back and forth. As you wake up, the first thing is my eyes staring into yours. Challenging you. Fucking daring you to deny the truth.

I casually flex my biceps, causing them to ripple enticingly, the muscle in my body tight, hard, chiseled, perfect.

I speak then, that grin on my face, totally, utterly comfortable with the situation, drinking up the total mindfuck you are in, "Hey 'bro', did I give you permission to check me out?"
01:08 StockyJock: Slowly, I start to wake up though my concussion. My head is throbbing with the mother of all headaches. I look around through blurry eyes, feeling a cold tiled floor beneath my ass... FUCK! Where am I? I know this place. Why am I naked in the gym shower room? I see a dude gently touching my head and playing with my pecs. Why is a dude touching me? Am I dreaming? But then your face registers a little, I know you, you seem familiar, I can’t place a name... And I realise I don’t know your name, but I know where I am and I freeze as I feel you touch my dick.

You seem preoccupied, playing with my body and don’t seem to notice I’m awake, so l take a chance to look you over. Fuck you’re hot. Almost comically perfect body, it’s a cliche but you look like you’ve been cut from granite. Huge, smooth biceps with sexy as fuck tatts, a hard face but young, not unattractive but not “cute” either. I shouldn’t allow myself to have these thoughts, but I can’t help it.

I’m taking you all in when I lock eyes with you. You’ve seen me looking and I know you’re fucking with me when you flex. I don’t know what to say or do, so I stay silent, and allow you to break the tension with a question, or was it a threat? It’s the kind of thing I’d say to any dude checking me out as a threat, but then you’re feeling me up and I think I can see your big cock growing, which makes me question your motivation. I know I can play this one of two ways, and I’ve got to get it right, you seem like a fucking psycho. But, to deny or to admit?

“No... no permission... s...” I answer, trying to sound confident, catching myself before I say sorry, “I couldn’t help it. You’re impressive bro. I’d like it if we could lift together, if you know what I mean.” Hoping I’m telegraphing my meaning without saying it out loud. I reach up to squeeze your bicep, which feels rock solid, my breath stuttering as I do.
04:19 DerekDrake: I stand there, staring into your eyes without answering, just keeping up the gentle body contact, the seconds ticking by, more and more of them, making you wait. Making you guess. What am I gonna do? What am I thinking behind that enigmatic, cocky, arrogant half smile. When I do move... I slither down your body, straddle your beefy thighs, and bury my face in your skank crotch. I take in a deep breath, then stand up, a look of pure pleasure on my face.

My cock is actually twitch, and a little drip of precum is staining my shorts. I'm telling you in a very visceral way what I really think about your skank, sweaty crotch odor. Then finally, I speak, "Bro.. I just beat you down like a little bitch without breaking a sweat, and you ask if we could lift together?" I chuckle, a deep throaty noise, "Dude. " I kneel down, and bend a bit towards you. I flex my fists, and shadow box a time or two, my blows just stopping short of your quivering torso. "If I were you, I'd be asking if I could teach how to fight like me."

I stand up straight then, feet on either side of your beefy chest, hands on my hips, my cock tenting out the front of my gym shorts like a coat rack. I look down into your eyes for a moment, I look at my shorts, then I look back at you.

"Bro, you wanna see what's under here? Well, my shorts ain't gonna take themselves off."
08:11 StockyJock: Anxiously waiting for your reply, the prolonged silence is killing me. I’m trying to control my shaking. The floor still feels cold but I’m sweating a lot now, like I’ve run a marathon - not that I could. It’s a mix of nerves and excitement, droplets forming around my hair line, my palms moist, armpits damp.

Perhaps intentionally, your reaction surprises me. I hold my breath as you move down to my crotch, wondering if you are going to blow me, pound me or what. But you take in a deep breath, your face right up close to my pathetically hard cock, and you smile.

I cant fight you, I don’t think you get my clumsily codex meaning when I said “lift” together, another failed attempt at speaking a language I don’t really understand. I envy your confidence in being able to do and say whatever you like.

Your shadow boxing is designed to make me flinch, I know that. I try with everything I’ve got not to, but my face betrays me and I wince each time your fists get close.

I want to see what you’re packing, but I’m feeling broken, humiliated. You’re mocking me and I hate that - being made to feel... small. I eye your tenting shorts, your cock clearly impressive, so much bigger than mine, something you don’t have to hide. It’s given you a natural confidence I don’t share. You’re good looking, you’ve got a great bod, you run rings around me intellectually and to top it off, god gifted you a huge package. And I hate you for it. I slowly reach up to pull your shorts down and then slam my left fist into your nuts.
08:55 DerekDrake: I stand over you, smiling down and waiting for what I had assumed would be obedience. But, rare as it is, it turns out I was wrong. You reach up to pull my shorts down, and slam your left fist into my nuts.

It truly, honestly, shocks me, catches me off guard.

You see, for just a moment, the cocky, arrogant expression, with my trademark half grin, vanish. In it's place you find unfiltered, sincere pain, shock, surprise, and..... pleasure?

I groan as my nads are mashed up against my pubic bone by your beefy arm and fist. I double up, and sink to my knees, straddling you. My head bows, and my muscle trembles as I fight to master the sickening rising of the gorge that wants to see me lose my lunch. You have a good fist. I am a strange one though, and have a wierd love of taking nut shots, having my balls worked over. But that's not something I want you to know. Yet. Maybe. Haven't decided what your presence in my future will look like.

When I lifted my head, and looked back into your face, my eyes are flashing, and my face is cold as ice. It is a bit of an act, but not entirely. My gaze is hard, cold, ruthless, the kind of gaze you would expect from a dude in a dark alley asking for your money or your life. "Serious miscalculation, 'bro'" I answer in a steel hard tone.

Suddenly, my body drops on top of yours. Chest to chest, hard steel muscle against your thick beefy muscle. I spin in place on the tiled floor, and my legs splay out to the right of you. I grab your left wrist with my right hand and pin it to the floor of the shower. then, I worm my left arm under your tricep and through to grab my own right wrist.

Having locked in a classic kimura lock, I grunt, twist to my side, and heave you up off the floor of the shower to make space as I wrench your thick, beefy gym built arm back behind you. Your arm is in real danger of being broken.

(Visualize it here: https://drive.google.com/open?id=1EmH8VyjDsiuNa3mFhLpAhZlv-HM-6uLF )

I snarl, "Let's start your fight training now 'bro'. Lesson one, NEVER FUCK WITH A DUDE WHO CAN BREAK YOU LIKE A FUCKING TWIG!!" I grunt, then with a snap, force the thick beefy arm backwards. Tendons strain and pop with little noises, then CRACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKk
Your arm breaks.
10:15 StockyJock: I feel, with sick pleasure, your cock and balls crumple against my big fist. I watch, captivated as I see your grin turn into a look I can’t quite fathom as you bow your head for a second. Is it pain? It doesn’t look like the normal look my usual bullying (I admit it) victims have.

You compose yourself in an instant and your visage and tone morphs into one that brings back a chill. Fighting back for a moment felt good, but I now know I should have just played your sick game. Here we are, just you and I, trapped in a deserted gym shower room. I don’t like it when you call me bro. From me it sounds douchey and affected, when you say it, it just mocks me.

You drop onto me, and in spite of the predicament, I like how hard your body feels against mine, your real muscles easily outperforming mine. You quickly manoeuvre me into a complex hold, grabbing my left arm as I frantically try to pull you off me, clawing at your body, feeling the still power in your muscles.

You talk of ‘training’ but this feels like demolition, humiliation and punishment, whatever you say, you’re no teacher. I feel you forcing my arm, unnaturally, against where I want it to go. My thick muscle tenses and flexes against your pressure, but I haven’t got it in me. There is a pop and a crack and I only feel heat and pain in my left arm. You have truly started to break me. I try to push you off me, but my right arm has little strength, from your earlier wrench.

“OH FUCK! YOU BROKE MY FUCKING ARM! YOU BASTARD!” I scream, while my body is flooded with endorphins, trying to dull the pain which I know will only take seconds to flood in. I kick and scream underneath you, my left arm now limp and useless. Terror and anger personified in one big package of confused and incapacitated meathead.
10:47 DerekDrake: You scream at me, cursing and I see that anger, that rage and terror rise in you. Your body kicking and screaming beneath me. That is my goal. I'm going to fucking beat every last ounce of resistance out of you. I want to get back to that vulnerable you. The soft squishy center of who you are. This you, this ballless bully who can't back up his talk with the real shit, this fucking illusion, is on my hit list. And I will beat it the fuck out of you until you give me what I want.

I loosen the kimura, and scramble up to my feet, maintaining the grip on your broken arm. You scramble as I yank on it, using it to force you to your feet against your will, frantically trying to keep me from pulling on the savaged limb.

I throw you then, into the corner of the shower room, wedge you in tight, my hand on your face, smashing your head into the corner where the walls meet. Then with my left fist, I draw it back, power rippling through my fight-forged muscle, and with a satisfying thrust, smash my fist into your short ribs on your right side.

CRUNCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Your broken right arm dangles, you can't even cover up. I growl in your face, fierce, eyes flashing, my cock stiff as a railroad spike at the beatdown I'm administering, "YUP, BOY, I DID. WHAT THE FUCK YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?" No more bros for you, you get your real and proper title, boy. "YOU PRETEND WANNA BE HARD DUDE? YOU ARE A FUCKING WASTE OF SPACE WITH A COCK SO SMALL, I NEED A GODDAMN MICROSCOPE TO FIND IT." I cock my fist and slam another hard, bone snapping fist deep into your righthand ribs, my muscle driving it in like a sledgehammer.

"YOU MAKE ME SICK, YOU SKANKY FUCKER, WITH YOUR SHOW MUSCLES AND YOUR EMPTY DOUCHEBAG WANNABE PUSSY ASSED HARD MAN ATTITUDE." I cock my fist again, and drive it hard with a savage uppercut, driving it into your seriously fucked up righthand ribs again. CRUNCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
11:12 StockyJock: My mind starts to go haywire, I can’t think straight, I can’t compute what’s happening to me, it’s so unlike any experience I’ve had before. Sure I’ve got my little insecurities, but I’ve never felt this helpless before.

You yank me around, holding my useless broken arm, throw me down into the corner. I know the drill, I’ve been on the other side before. I cower, like a victim. Only I’m not a victim, I’m as mean and nasty as you, just in a real different way.

Your strong hand smothers my face, crushing my nose, fingers pressing into my eye, forcing me to breathe through my mouth, my injured jaw aching as it hangs open.

You scream at me, reminding me how pathetic I am, playing on every one of insecurities and you brutally focus your rage on my right hand ribs, sending thrust after thrust into them. Not testing me, not holding back or “training” me, just lethal, brutal, intentional punches. I close my eyes as I feel my ribcage ache first, then crack, then a cloud crunch as it gives way, ribs snapped and floating free, impaling organs.

I open the eye I can, looking you in the eye again, no words just a splutter as I cough blood, trying and failing to clutch my stomach.
12:47 DerekDrake: My chest heaves, my veins are surging with intensity, the fight lust surging through me. I stop myself with a conscious effort when you cough up some blood, spattering in my face and on my chest. My goal is to fuck you up, but not to kill you.

I hold you there, keeping you upright, and push my face into yours. I pin your head in place forehead to forehead, nose to nose, mouth to mouth. My tongue flicks out and licks the edges of your lip, tasting some of the blood you coughed up.

I speak then, in a low fierce whisper, intense, serious, and utterly ruthless. "Do you want to fucking play some more, BOY?" I reach down with my other hand and grab your balls and your dick, easily holding them in my left hand. I push my right arm into the wall beside your head, the bicep looking huge, baseball thick, peaked and steel hard, and practically in your face. "I've had enough of your fucking shit. This is what is gonna happen. You are going worship my god-like body. You are fucking going to enjoy it. I am going to fuck you with my man sized dick up your ass and split you a new one. You will enjoy that as well. Do you understand what I am telling you boy? Or..." I grab tighter on your cock and balls, yanking them up, stretching the ballsac out. "Do I have to FUCKING RIP YOUR PUNY LITTLE NUTS OFF AN SHOVE THEM DOWN YOUR THROAT?"
14:07 StockyJock: Your face spattered in blood is a strangely good look for you. It suits the sadistic vibe you are so carefully cultivating. I realise that, regardless of what genetic gifts you may have been given, you’re just a sad fuck up like me, putting on a mask as a shield against the real world. You wouldn’t admit it, even to yourself, but you’re just a pathetic act, but one which has gone too far.

I feel your hot breath in my mouth as you lean in to me. I can practically smell the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You’re on a natural high. My heart skips a beat as you lick my lips and once again I struggle to reconcile the fear and pain. with the lust I’m feeling.

I groan, deep and low, when you grab my package, enjoying and fearing your touch, a feeling that only intensifies when your tight, engorged bicep flexes up close to my face. The smell of testosterone from your body mixing with your warm breath, creating a fog in my head. I can’t cope with this confusing mix of emotions but that, I know, is exactly what you want.

You say I must worship you, threaten to fuck me or you’ll rip my balls off. I don’t want to play anymore. I want to wake up in my bed and go for a run, go to the gym. Go back to normal. But I don’t want to be fucked, I’m the one worthy of worship, my muscle body so much bigger than yours. Sure, you’ve put in time for training, but to get my herculean size takes god-like effort. I’m a fucking classical statue. I start laughing at you, you might be a sadist but I’m a goddam narcissist. I flex my weakened right arm - my massive bicep, maybe not as solid as yours, makes you look small.

As you yank up, stretching my ball sack and threaten to rip it off or something, I retch and spit in your face. Bloody saliva sprays all over you and I brace for impact.
17:33 DerekDrake: I'm hovering there, in your face, stretching up your puny little balls and threatening to rip them off if you don't listen to me. And what the fuck do you do, you flex your right arm at me. Then you retch and spit in my face. I let go of your balls, and wipe some of the retch off my face, and wipe on your chest. But other than that, there is no impact. Just a look in my eyes, indecipherable.

My expression is slightly, lightly amused. I step back, and reach over, turning the closest shower on. "C'mon boy, let's clean off that blood and bile. It smells like dead fish. What the fuck did you eat for dinner?" I don't really give you a choice, grabbing the wrist of your weak, but not yet broken right arm, and with a quick twist and yank, hammerlocking back up behind your back. I frogmarch your ass over under the shower, and stand behind you as the water sprays into your beefy pecs, running down your savagely bruised abs and broken ribs, even down over your skanky crotch. "Bet it's been about a week since you cleaned up your grody little baby nutsack, ain't it boy?" I take some soap in my hand, and press my body against your back, keeping the hammerlock on tight. My dick, rock hard is wedged up tight against your naked ass through the now soaking material of my gym shorts. You feel my beef flexing and rippling as I scrub you down with soap, not going deliberately out of my way to hurt you, but also not trying to avoid it.

I push you forward then, and press your chest against the wall of the shower. I figure you are in a lot of pain, broken ribs, broken left arm, ravaged abs, sore balls, but you'll live. I mutter in your ear, "Bet you are a virgin, boy, aren't you? There ain't no way a chick has ever had that in her, I mean, she'd take one look at it, and fucking piss herself laughing. And I'm sure as hell no man has ever fucked you, I mean, one sniff of that sewer smell coming from your junk would put them off their lunch for a week." I make and adjustment, and step out of my shorts, kicking the wet shorts off to the other side of the shower. Then, one hand wrapped keeping the hammerlock tight,

I spread your legs by wedging my own in between your thighs. Then, I guide myself to the tip of your ass, and start to hump. My dick is pretty hard. I just shrug, you got something that makes my dick tingle, and I'm not one to argue with what my dick wants. I speak up again, wrenching up the hammerlock to keep you locked in tight as the water runs down our bodies, "Well, sorry boy, but my dick has decided that it wants a piece of your ass. I don't usually argue with my dick, I mean, look how big it is right? Best just to give it..." I grunt, and push hard, starting to rip my dick into your ass, forcing past the sphincter muscles bit by bit, "..what it wants." I grunt, and hump forward again. My other arm is around your body, and just to test, I tweak your nip gently in my hand, and rub my hand down your torso, and give your cock just a bit of a stroke.
14:10 StockyJock: You hold my arm behind my back, I could try to resist, but the dull ache from my flaring traps, down through my still bulging bicep and tricep and into my forearm reminds me that it would be pointless. I stumble obediently towards the shower spray, slipping on the now wet tiles and jerking my arm, for a demeaning soaking, you making it very clear that despite my good looks, my nauseating exterior reflects my ego, an act of deliberate self-sabotage on my part?

I moan as you soap up my body, lathering all over, the soft white foam highlighting how far my apparently strong body has fallen. Your hands sliding and massaging over my aching muscles feel good. Paying particular attention, it seems, to my shrunken nuts, you are rough, but causing no more pain than I am in anyway and my cock remains hard. You’ve all but broken me now, my attempted bravado vanishing with each degrading smear of soap. You finish giving me my forced wash and your demeanour changes. I wince as you press me into the wall, my shattered body and mind in a constant state of torment.

I don’t resist as you spread my legs. I know what’s coming, I feel your superior cock on my ass. I’ve been waiting for it. You are controlled by your dick, just like I am imprisoned by mine, two sides of the same fucked up coin. It hurts crazy bad, like nothing I’ve felt before as you push into my, the only solace to me being the soap easing your way in.

I want to fight back, I’m supposed to be the alpha, the top dog, the big man. Except I’m not and I never could be really. I deserve to feel what a man feels like, a real man, not an empty musclebag like me. As you pinch my nip, I realise my cock is hard and throbbing and that somewhere, deep down, I’m enjoying this. I try to relax and, as I do, I feel your cock slip deeper into my hole. I am giving you what you want, and perversely, what I want too. You win.
17:51 DerekDrake: I feel my cock start to plumb the very center of your innards, my tightly packed, cut and chiseled pecs and abs pressing against your back and your hammerlocked arm. Then... FUCKKKKKKK MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.. your little weiner gets stiff as a nail.

The feel of your body responding to my... let's be honest... rape, hits my nerves like a fucking bolt of lighting. You feel an almost electric shiver pass through my beef, and all the points we are touching, as the hot water washes down us, slick and moist, but not all of the heat is coming from the shower. My face is flushed, and I feel tingling flashes of pleasure spreading from my nuts up and down my spine as my cock continues to delve the inside of your ass. I hold your stiff small rod in my hand, gently toying it with, pushing up against your muscled abs, rubbing it back and forth, exploring it, seeking the different touches, different kinds of strokes, tuning in to your body, slowly but surely reading the small signs of physical feedback that guide to making this feel as good for you as I can.

These moments are utterly silent, there aren't any need for words. The rythym and motion, the reaction of our bodies is the only language we need right now. I gently, oh so gently, release your left arm from the hammerlock and guide it down and back planting your palm on my hard ass and thigh, inviting you to touch and explore as you like. My hard chest and cut abs now plant themselves firmly against your back, feeling through the contact every little quiver and shiver of your muscle.

Then, finally, my dick seeks it's target, as I drive my man sized dick against your prostrate, and reading the reaction of your body to an unexpected source of pleasure gets a little moan from me, right in your ear. I lean my head forward then, nibbling at your ear, your neck, tasting the wet, sodden hairs of your sexy little beard.

Then suddenly, I ask myself, what the fuck am I doing? What the hell is my dick after with this empty musclebag, all show, with no real grit, no real balls, nothing but pathetic bluster? A dude who was so ashamed of his teeny weeny cock and balls that he didn't even try to keep himself clean, that was afraid to let anyone get close, afraid that they'd see him, the empty, pathetic limp dicked worm that he really was? And yet, even as all those thoughts raced through his head... he kept fucking this dude, stroking this dude's chest and muscled abs, nibbling his ear, moving in rythym with his body, building him up to probably the best fucking orgasm he'd ever have. But why?

Then I remembered something that you said earlier in our little encounter.. when you asked if we could maybe lift together. For a moment, there was a small window into the empty man inside, all the bluster and bullying torn away, but it wasn't empty, it was lonely, it was uncertain, it was afraid, and it was utterly authentic. It was his soft squishy, vulnerable bit in the middle. Up till that point, I realize now that I just wanted to fuck you up a bit, intimidate you, maybe rape your hot ass, but after you asked me that question, I wanted something quite different.

And then it hit me, like some kind of fucking light going off in my head, this dude right now, was just like me. Not the me of now exactly, but the me that I was, lost, lonely, frightened, uncertain, trying to hide it all behind big words and a big attitude. That little centre squishy bit was just like mine. Fuck me.

That me was still there... I still sometimes felt all those things that this muscled fucker tried to hide. The difference was I was more than that. I'd taught myself to stand up for myself, I'd taught myself to earn my way, I'd taught myself not to give a fuck about what anyone else thought about me. That was all fucking true. And it was also true that I still had that soft squishy bit in me.

I was a fucking bastard. I knew it. I was an arrogant little shit that loved to fuck with other men, loved to give them shit, loved the feel of making them piss themselves when I looked them with my LOOK. For fuck's sake, I lived by less than legal means most of the time, I was a goddamn crook and a criminal. But I was a man. I knew it. But I hadn't started that way.

Me, a fucking self-centered egocentric vicious bully bastard, Me, myself, I .... wanted this dude to succeed. I wanted this dude to find his manhood. My dick wanted that. But why the fuck??? why? Because he was just like me. That's all the reason I needed.

My arms wrapped around your muscled chest, pulling you up against me, then leaned forward into your ear and whispered, in a tone that was just as much the real me as when you asked if we could lift together, "I got you bro." Then I tilted your head up towards me, and kissed you.
11:49 StockyJock: As soon as I feel my ass unclench and guide you deeper, I know I’ve given in to you, let my mask slip. It wasn’t much of a disguise, you saw through it quickly.

Emotionally and physically this is painful, so fucking painful. More than I could imagine. Even if I want this now, I know you are raping my ass, not caring for my reaction. I hoped if I went with it you’d be gentler, less brutal, but you continue, as hard as before. I can’t say I don’t understand, in my life as a bully, I can get carried away with the erotic thrill of domination.

I feel your ripped core sliding wet against my skin, stimulating me all over, getting my stubby little cock harder than ever before, leaking my nasty little rivers of pre. Even your hard body putting my puffy, overdeveloped muscle to shame. Everything about you - your awesome body, your powerful psyche, the superior virility of your cock - eclipses me. I want to escape, I desperately want to beat you, to prove you wrong, but most of all, I want you to beat me.

And then something about your touch changes. I feel a shiver through my whole body as you play with my nub, rubbing, jerking, massaging, pulling. Sure I’m an adult, but you are the first to touch me like this, as I’ve protected myself from ridicule for so long. I get into a rhythm, undulating my aching muscles in time with you, feeling you silently guide me in what I’m supposed to do. You release the painful hammerlock and allow me to explore you as you have me. I get a lump in my throat as another guy lets me explore their body willingly - not needing to beat on the nerds and freaks just to get the thrilling touch of male flesh. Your ass feels amazing under my palm, so solid, and I pull you into me, guiding your sword deeper into my hole, even as it smashes my insides up.

You feel almost tender now, moaning low into my ear, your tongue exploring my neck, my face, the angles of my square jawline.

Then suddenly, I ask myself, what the fuck am I doing? What the hell is my dick responding like this to this crazy motherfucker who has broken me? A dude who I’ve just met has me, the alpha gym bully, the genetically superior muscle mountain, mewling like a kitten. And yet, even as all those thoughts race through my head I let you keep fucking me, driving me ever closer to my first man-to-man orgasm, ‘bro’gasm. Even after the brutal attack, the aggressive rape, I feel strangely safe with you - the first man I’ve ever been close to.

I collapse against the wall, the realisation of all this too much for my dull mind to handle, a breakdown in the gym showers - horribly ironic. A complete rewriting of my self. Shaking, I am still urging you to punish me for the pathetic loser I was, or am. I could never be half the man you are, but I could try.

I feel you, looking down on me - both superior and protective - and lean into me, your strong arms wrapping around my shaking body. “I got you bro” you say to me and I feel safe. For the first time since I slipped that mask on, I feel safe.

You kiss me and my mind flips. Your lips are hot on mine, but powerful and rough, not the soft submissive kiss of a woman. Like so much today, it feels right. I respond with my tongue, hungrily and awkwardly licking at you. Looking up at you through puffy eyes, through the water I see a real man.
13:22 DerekDrake: I keep my eyes open as I kiss you tenderly, deeply, The intense and powerful surge of passion ripping through me suddenly like a fucking hurricane of emotion. What the actual fuck.... Well, when a hurricane came calling, the only thing to do was to ride it out, surf the wave, and go where it lead me.

As I kissed you with strength and force, me, and arrogant fucking self-centered asshole, was suddenly concerned about not hurting you anymore. The strength of my kiss was intense, but restrained, quivering, but not violent. I'd jacked your jaw pretty good, and I was suddenly aware of all the places on your body I'd hurt, and somehow instantly internalized that knowledge so that my every movement took it into account, even to the degree of how much pressure I put on your mouth from my kiss.

My hands wrap around your body, under your armpits, and around the front of your torso. I'm playing with the smooth skin of your thick pecs, gently stroking the muscle. My hands linger over your nips, tweaking them softly, gently. And the whole time my dick moves in a smooth, sensual rythym I've got your measure now, I've found your prostrate, and my cockhead stimulates you from the inside out. Your little dick held in my hand, as I work it softly twitches in time with the contact with your prostrate as I'm inducting you into the new realm of bro sex. Teaching you how men can find incredible pleasure in each other's bodies. I'm feeding off your pleasure now, not your pain. Each stroke of the rythym that takes you closer to your first bro-gasm is transmitted through a thousand points of contact, the shuddering of your muscle, the trembling in your lips, the quivering of your cock in my hand. Each reaction from you feeds my own passion and need, building up back and forth man to man, bro to bro.

Then, another realization hits me like a shit ton of bricks. There is this sense of .... protection, of keeping safe, of defending you that flares up inside me like a fire, fierce and undeniable. Primal even. It's why I internalized knowing where every one of your injuries was. And I knew that if any mother fucker tried to fuck with you, they'd have to answer to me. But.. I didn't feel the slightest sense of guilt about having fucked you up so bad. Isn't that fucked up? But it wasn't.... I knew, my dick knew, the sneaky fucking bastard, that the only way to get here, where we were now, was to break your fucking body, rub your goddamn face in all the stupid lies you were telling yourself about how tough you were, till all that crap was as shattered and broken as your body, till you had no defenses left, nothing left to hide behind when I came looking for you. My savage beating had been entirely necessary, and I had no regrets. FUCK ME. But I'd fucking rip the nuts off of any man who tried to do it to you again.

And now.... I felt myself riding a hurricane of emotion, tenderness, protectiveness, a desire for you to succeed, and a desire to help you experience an incredible brogasm. Besides, you were one cute, sexy fucker, when you weren't trying to bullshit me.

The rising wave was taking both of us now, and my nuts began to tingle and vibrate with the need to unload my man seed deep up your ass. And again, as the rising surge grabs my nuts in the beginnings of one of the most authentic brogasms I've ever had, I think..... How the fuck did I get here? How did a selfish, self-centered, asshole like myself get here? Maybe... my dick twitched at me... because you needed the experience you are having right now as much as this dude needs his experience. Maybe.... it's time to become a better man.... maybe it's time to care about something other than just yourself.

I was wracked with emotion as the rising urge to erupt grew in my nuts, wanting so bad to fill your ass with my seed, but holding back, waiting for you.
13:42 StockyJock: As we kiss deeper, I look at you and feel your eyes on me. It’s intense, like they’re reading me, searching my soul and interrogating my past actions. I squeeze my eyes shut, protecting myself from admitting too much, protecting myself from this vulnerability, protecting myself from you. I have no choice but to give in and your touch is less violent now, but my hurting body is a constant reminder of what you’re capable of. It didn’t have to go like this and I still don’t trust you.

You pull my body in tighter against yours, effortlessly using your power over me. I feel your hands massaging my chest, it feels both delicious and humiliating - proving that in sex as in battle, you are bigger. You work your cock up inside my ass, giving me just enough pleasure to stop the fight in me. A voice inside my head still says this is wrong, but it feels too good to resist.

I’m still acutely conscious of my physical shortcomings as you play with my diminutive member. I can only imagine how superior you feel, how you’re laughing at me, how pathetic a man you think I am. I’m burning, angry inside, at you and at the world, and at myself. I want to explode at you, hurt you for how I’m feeling. All these emotions, and yet still the primal urge for sexual release is dominant. My mind flips back to my nuts and I feel them churning, the telltale sensation I’ve only ever felt at my own hand, warning me that I’m on the edge and the throbbing from inside me and your quickening breath tells me you are too.

As I feel the building sensation of orgasm in my dick, I try to pull away from you, not wanting you to breed me like your bitch. But you’re too big, too far inside me. I fight, I thrash around. Opening my eyes, staring straight ahead, I’m suddenly more aware of the grimy tiles, the strip lighting, the water draining away under my feet, my broken arm agonising. “NO!” I scream as I shoot, my jock bitch cum spraying onto your fingers, splattering and sliding down the tiles around us. The most honest and most painful release I’ve ever experienced.
09:07 DerekDrake: I felt it, as we both started building towards an eruption, I felt you start to pull away. A tightness travelling all up and down your beaten up, broken muscle, your eyes squeezing shut, the slight pulling away. All those little signals that are screaming at me, telling me without words how afraid you are, and how angry you are.

But at the same time, as I hold your little cock in my hand, rubbing it, stroking it, your body is still quivering, edging. As I plow deep into your ass, each thrust of my man sized dick up into the middle of your guts gets quivers of pleasure from your body. You are afraid, angry, but you want this and me all at the same time. A wild, crazy mix of shit, a battle inside you, communicated straight to me, you can't hide the struggle from me, either side.

I can fucking play your body like you are my bitch. I feel it, I'm in control of your nuts, your itty bitty cock, I can make you blow your load, I can break your body, and I dominate your fucking sorry ass whenever I want. A part of me likes having that power over you, enjoys knowing you can't fucking resist my pure man power, my massive cock, my natural dominance over a fucking poser like you.

All of that is true. But the one thing I've been in my life is a liar. Not too myself. I've been through too much crap to be otherwise. Yeah, I like to bully puffed up posers like you. Love to beat up other alphas, fuck them up. I admit it, I own it. But I didn't make it this far on my own by labeling myself as one thing or another, by putting myself in a box. That's why I can own that, and I can also own the fact that seeing your vulnerability awakened something new in me. Something I liked, something I'd never considered before. The possibility of caring about something other than myself. That felt good, I wanted that. I wanted to give this fucked up, uncertain, lonely poser who hides behind some faked out tough guy image the thing I'd never had when I was just like him. Someone who can see past all that shit, sees him naked-assed in front of the world, and let him know that despite all that crap, someone else cares enough about you to watch your back, to be a bro. Damn.... I never had that, but maybe this dude can.

Then, I feel you scream out, in anger, denial, and frustration, "NOOO!". Your body convulses as you try hard to pull away from me, but I'm not letting you. I keep myself in your ass tight, my balls churning. Then in my hand, your little pencil dick explodes with a huge surge of cum. Fucking shocks the hell outta me, that such tiny nuts can deliver such a massive load, your jism spattering through my fingers and down the tiled walls, fighting and thrashing even as I unload my own nuts deep into your ass. The feeling is like electricity... our bodies fucking wanted this... one of the most amazing loads I've ever shot, tingling from the tips of my toes to the top of my hair. Even though you are fighting me, thrashing, the feel of your muscled jock body against mine eeks every last drop outta my nuts, all dumped in your ass.

I stand there for a moment, the orgasm fading into the distance. I've fought my battle, I've made my choice. Now it's up to you. I lean down, and kiss you gently on the forehead, as I pull my cock out of your ass. I stand back, the shower water running down between us. The release I felt from my nuts still causing little shivers. But I'm also feeling gutted. I know, that despite everything that has just hit me like a ton of bricks, that what happens next is not up to me. That fucking guts me. I'm so used to always having my own way, taking everything I want. But I can't take this. I can't own this. It doesn't work that way. I could rage and bash you, beat you the fuck up, but it would never be the same for me. Not with you.

I'd always know that behind all that bluster and crap there is a lonely, frightened dude that hates himself. Wouldn't be any fun to beat you up anymore. I'm a pretty laid back dude, I take what comes from wherever it comes, it's how I learned to get through all the shit that happened to me on the streets. But this is big shit, and it challenges me unlike anything I've ever faced before.

Not something I do very often, trying to find the words. Trying to catch your eye. I speak up then, and just go for broke, I mean what else can I fucking do? I know one thing though.... no matter what you say or do, I'm never going to be the same man I was before you asked if we could lift together. Some moments change a man, make him see the world in a different way. That was mine, and nothing that happens next could take that away from me. No matter what. I speak up then,

"Bro, let me take you over to this dude I know who can patch you, set that broken arm, tape your ribs. No questions asked. I'll pay for it." Then, my voice caught, and I knew I needed to say more, I needed to give him something of myself, something authentic. I learned right then, on the spot, that bravery and courage were not all about getting in the face of a dude who could kick your ass. I've always been a fast learner though, and a real man doesn't back down from a challenge, even when it could hurt as much as this one. "Bro, look at me... I'm a dick. An asshole. I know it. No excuses. No bullshit. When I first saw you looking at me, I was only thinking of fucking you up, giving you shit 'cause it's what I do with dudes who write checks their muscles can't cash. But..." I take a deep breath, damn, this is hard for me.... I can't find the right words. "... when I saw what was behind all that, I didn't want to give you shit anymore, I just wanted to beat some sense into you, get past all your bullshit. I wanted to see more of that dude hiding behind your big mouth and jock muscles. I liked him, I like the real you. He's pretty cool, pretty sexy. That's why I got so rough with you dude." There is a vulnerability in my voice, a quality in my tone and speech that's just as raw as yours was when you asked if we could lift together. I speak up again, "You don't have to be alone dude. It's your choice. I can show you some stuff. You wanna lift with me bro?"
15:11 StockyJock: I know it’s going to happen before I feel it. I feel your breathing quicken, your grip on me tightening as I try to pull away, your abs and quads tensing. You’re going to unload your sperm inside me, taking away my masculinity or at least, the version of masculinity I clung to before. You’re changing it. Giving me concrete evidence of where I belong on some stupid sexual power pyramid and part of that feels reassuring. And yet still I try to break away, my mind too filled with conflicting emotion to just let it happen.

I feel it. A hot gush up inside me, your engorged alpha cock stretching my hole as you pump your cum into me. I imagine how it must feel for you, the sense of power, strength, victory over the weaker man. I want all of that. Damn you!

My body goes limp. All that I was fighting against is lost. I never saw things unfolding like this. Not like this. Dammit. Not like this. Anything but this. Please not this. I begged you. But it’s too late.

You lean down to kiss my head. I guess you think it’s reassuring or some fucked up shit. But it’s not. It’s patronising and humiliating. Like you’re some hero coming to my rescue. You’re not. And I truly hate you for it. Exposing me so bare, my physical nakedness a horrific metaphor. You spout some shit about making me see sense. How you like me. It hurts when I hear you call me sexy. It’s the first time I’ve heard a dude, let alone someone as big and hot as you, say it to me. But I can’t find the words to tell you to stop. I’m hurting and tired.

“You wanna lift with me bro?” You ask. “Sure” I reply. I’m done fighting.

Published: 2020-05-16, viewed 143 times.