Brat on Vacation Ch 01 - Invitation

After Brad had surrendered himself to me it wasn’t this “happily ever after” where we walked off into the sunset and lived in a castle surrounded by helpful mice and birds who sang songs, no we were college students, so every day was a grind, every class milestone was a hustle, but we had each other.  His room in the frat house most weekday nights, my room in the dorms on the weekends when Kevin was away, sometimes he showed up on Sunday afternoon early and found us cuddled together.  Days turned into weeks.  The worst part was when he had gone away for Thanksgiving break and I stayed on campus because I didn’t want to go home.  It was so boring, though I did figure out how to rob the vending machines so at least there was a little bit of fun.

It was in those few weeks before Christmas break that things changed.  Everyone had that little countdown in their head and this desperation to finish do all of the work needed.  It was a Sunday, and I was down in the basement of the dorms doing laundry.  Kevin had walked in on Brad in his diaper at the desk writing an assignment, and as Brad explained it, well he forgot he was just wearing a diaper.  There he sat typing away trying to make some kind of convincing argument when it finally dawned on him.  They shared a look and laughed it off, but when I got back Brad was in sweat pants much to my disappointment and Kevin was on his second beer and shirtless on his bed reading a book he was supposed to have finished by the next day.  They fell silent when I entered the room with my basket full of clothes.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Kevin said with a mischievous laugh.

“Brad?”

“It’s all good.  He just walked in on me in my, well, diaper,” he answered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kevin said, “I’m thinking of taking off my pants right now.”

I rolled my eyes and thought about defusing the situation by taking Brad to dinner when Kevin told me that he had ordered pizza and that the fridge was full of beer.  I settled for the latter of course and got one out.  So I sat on my bed and sorted clothes, started to put them away, when Brad let out this berp, so Kevin did it too, and they both laughed.  When they start farting and making jokes about it, I told myself, then I know they’re friends.

“Do you think a butt plug hurts?” Kevin asked.

I looked to him where he lay, his two sock covered feet off the edge of the bed, his long legs covered by jeans, the band of his boxers and that soft tummy, a cute roll of fat.  He scratched at himself and shifted on the bed and looked to both of us.  I looked away and Brad pretended like he hadn’t heard.  So Kevin sat up and moved to the edge where his feet dangled off.

“I’m serious,” he said, “hey look, you guys have probably put stuff up there.  I’m not gay but you know, times are changing and I was just curious.  Stop being such a prude.”

Brad and I looked to each other and laughed.  We knew.  We had all the answers and yet as open as we were, as much as we didn’t try to hide our little practice of me putting Brad in diapers, our sexuality, any of it, it still felt like a taboo.  For all of our shared secrets we were a bit prudish, at least when it came to straights.  Kevin got himself another beer, opened it, and began to drink it.  He gave another to Brad and urged him to finish the one by his laptop which he did, then he went into the bathroom and closed the door.

“What do you think that was about?” Brad asked over his shoulder.

“Maybe he’s bi-curious?”

“I don’t think it’s a bisexuality thing.  I mean I don’t think he’s into dudes, but you know, maybe he’s just curious.  Lots of guys are doing it now?”

“Doing what?”

“Playing with their butts,” Brad said.

“Really?  Who?”

“Kevin,” he answered in a whisper and we both laughed.

But we fell quiet when the bathroom door opened and he walked back into the room and went to the sink where he washed his hands.  He was about to go back to his bed when there was a knock on the door and he went to open it.  I got to my feet just in time for him to hand me two pizza boxes as he tipped the delivery person then closed the door.  I set them on my bed and opened both.  Kevin was quick to get himself a piece and retreat to his bed where he sat cross legged and looked back at me.

“Don’t you feel like we should be doing something?” he asked.

“And just what do you want to do?” I replied.

“Something, anything, this is so boring.  I feel like we should be exploring.”

“Explore your book,” Brad said.

“No, I want like a real adventure,” Kevin replied.

“If you drink enough we’ll tell you about butt plugs,” I said.

“Really?”

“Do you want to know or is this some kind of test where you laugh at us after?”

“I really want to know,” he said.

“Okay,” I said.

And I went into a long explanation about how they felt, how they didn’t quite satisfy and yet there was something fun to it, that it wasn’t for everyone, some people, gay or straight, liked the feeling of having it in their butt.  I went into the social context of anal play for some people, the feeling of insertion, and then I talked about how for other people it was annoying, gay or straight, having something in the butt was a bother.  I told him about shapes, sizes, and that a tapered base helped it from going inside too far and getting stuck.  He raised his knees and turned away in mock fear when he heard that, but then he drank some more and asked for more details.

“I’m not sure how much more I can tell you.  Did you try looking it up?”

“It’s not, I mean, I guess, it’s more like personal experience, because you know, it’s like, well…”

“Try sitting on one,” Brad said.

“Hey, are you sitting on one now?”

We laughed nervously.

“Is that what you were trying to ask?” I said.

“No, well honestly kind of, but not to embarrass you, but because I am legitimately curious.  Just like when I saw you in the diaper and I made that joke about being able to drink as much as you want without going to the bathroom because you could just go in your diaper.  It’s just one of those things.”

“What do you mean one of those things?  Is that what you meant when you said you wanted to go on an adventure?”

He blushed and covered his face with his hands so I looked away and tried to think up some reason to break up the party.  I mean it felt awkward and yet there was this kind of bond between us, this kind of fun energy.  Mostly, it was the alcohol.  Kevin drank some more and we let the silence pass.  For a moment I thought one of us would think of a new subject, one of us would decide our fates that night, one of us would return the social norms.  But we didn’t, because Kevin was the first to speak.

“I wish I had some hard alcohol,” he said, “I’ve been sober all week and I spent two days with my parents.  They don’t let me drink around them.  I had to convince my older brother to buy a case of beer when he dropped me off.”

“There’s hard liquor at the frat house,” Brad said.

Oh no, I thought, Sunday night is turning into a drinking party, that’s not a good way to start the week.  Well, I’ll stay sober, I thought, and Kevin, well Kevin’s poor life choices are his own.  But when Brad stood up and stretched and I heard the words, “fuck it,” from his lips, I knew it was going to be a long night regardless of my maturity because they both wanted to get drunk.  And just like that with those words we were on a mission to get liquor.  Brad pulled on a shirt, retrieved his keys, wallet, and phone from the dresser by my bed, Kevin put on some shoes, and we were out the door.  We walked the paths to the frat house with barely a word between us and when we got there Kevin hesitated for a moment before he stepped inside.

Frat life wasn’t for him.  He had quit soon after joining, so he was a bit of an unwanted guest, but there was barely anyone home so with a shrug of his shoulders we all went inside.  Brad was quick to raid the supply in the kitchen and took two half-full bottles of vodka and a bottle of whiskey with no label.  He handed them to Kevin in a grocery bag then we all went up to his room.  I knew that Kevin didn’t want to be left alone and cornered by one of the frat brothers.  Brad apologized for his messy room and started to look through his drawers.  He tossed a couple of diapers on the bed, some clothes, then he pulled out something and covered it with both hands as he moved to Kevin.

“Put out your hands,” he said.

He did.  And Brad placed a butt plug, his butt plug, there in his palm.  At first he was fascinated by it in his drunken stupor but then he realized what it was and where it had been so he dropped it and pretended to be disgusted.  At least in part he pretended because he really hammed it up with all the cries of disgust and wiping his hands on everything.  He was about to step away and walk from the room when I decided to joke with him a little and wrapped him on the arm to get his attention.

“Pick it up,” I said, “it won’t hurt you unless you put it up your butt and even then it might feel good, don’t be so scared.  You were the one asking all the questions.”

He looked to me then the plug, eventually he picked it up, handed it to Brad, then he wiped his hands on his jeans and walked from the room.  Brad showed it to me with a grin before he stuck it in his overnight bag.  I shook my head and we both laughed.  Kevin waited just outside the room and we all walked out together.  When we stepped out into the cool Fall air it felt like we had committed robbery, like we had gotten away with something.  The frat guys would never notice the missing liquor, but it still felt like we had done something bad.

By the time we made it back to the dorms we were all laughing and joking with each other with those little shoves and pulls guys do. When we got to the room we spilled inside and were cracking up about nothing.  Brad set the first bottle on the desk, followed by the second and third with this resounding thud for each one.  He poured shots with the vodka and we downed them.  He poured again and we downed them.  When he started on the third round I refused and Kevin drank it before going to his bed with a slice of pizza.  He ate greedily and made a mess of himself with toppings falling all over his chest and sauce at the corners of his mouth.  Brad looked to me and we shared a laugh.

“I’m so drunk,” Kevin said, “this is the best.  Who would have thought having a gay roomie and his boyfriend could be so much fun?”

“I won’t take that as an insult,” I said.

“You know what I mean,” he said, “this is great.  I just have to pee.”

Then Brad did something I didn’t expect, he took a diaper out of his bag and tossed it to Kevin.  It landed in front of him and he stared at it.  I watched as the different parts of his body flushed and changed color.  His lips turned red.  His hands turned red.  The cheeks on his face, red.  I shook my head a little and thought to change the way this was going when he took hold of it and began to rub the plastic material with his fingers.  I could tell he was interested.  He just wanted to know, to have the experience, tomorrow it might all be a memory but right then as we sat together, it felt like this given that he would do it.  I expected him to go to the bathroom and do it himself but instead he looked to us.

“One of you has to put me in it,” he said.

“Which?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter, Brad,” he said.

“Okay, strip down,” Brad said.

“Do you think this is going too far?” I asked.

“Have another shot,” Kevin replied.

“Hey, don’t say-“

“I’ve been warned all of my life and what good did that do me?  I ended up repressed and hating myself,” Brad said, “let him enjoy it.  Now strip.”

Kevin got to his feet and swayed for a moment then steadied himself before he pulled his pants and underwear down to his ankles.  He stood up and put his hands out in victory as he stood before us with his little penis on display amongst a nest of pubic hair.  It was cute just like him.  I rolled my eyes though at this situation and I was glad it wasn’t me having to put the diaper on him when Brad pushed him backwards onto the bed and took hold of his feet when they popped up into the air.  He pulled off my roommie’s shoes, his jeans, and his underwear, then he pulled him to the middle of the bed, lifted the other young man’s knees into the air.  He sat between those legs, looked down over Kevin’s naked body and he shook his head as he laughed.

“Is this the way it’s done?  I bet you look real cute on your back,” Kevin said, “a big frat boy like you with all those muscles.  I’d like to see that.”

And there it was, this kind of admission, this feeling that he’d had, this fantasy of Brad on his back, a jock boy through and through, yet there he was just like Kevin with his knees in the air.  It was the fantasy that got me excited every time we did it.  Brad interrupted my thoughts with a playful slap to Kevin’s belly.

“Keep being a smart ass and I’ll have to give you a spanking,” he said.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Kevin replied with a ring of challenge to his voice.

Brad spanked him, three times on the same cheek, but he spanked him.  Kevin laughed.  He actually laughed while being naked on his back in a room with two young, gay men, his knees in the air, his hole exposed.  He laughed.  Brad was quick to reposition him and place the diaper under his butt.

“Do you want the full treatment?” I asked.

“What’s the full treatment?”

“I’ve got lotions and baby powder in my drawer here.  It’ll really make the diaper experience memorable,” I said.

“Trust me,” Brad added.

“Hell yeah, give it to me daddy, I want it,” Kevin said.

Brad spanked him again, this time it hurt and Kevin said so.

“I’m not just going to let you keep spanking me,” he said.

“Then behave yourself,” Brad replied.

I got bottles from the drawer and handed them to Brad, then I stood there and looked down to Kevin who waited.  I watched his tummy rise and fall with each breath, studied the way his cheeks were still rosy, and his nipples hardened at the ends of soft pectoral muscles.  He was quite the sight as Brad put the powder on him first, then he held up the lotion for Kevin to see.

“This next part, it’s not about gay or straight, it’s to protect your little butt from dry skin.  Do you want me to put it on you?”

“Yes please,” Kevin said.

A note of civility, for all the play, for all the antics, he had found some sense of maturity in this little adventure of his.  Brad spread lotion over his ass and the crevices of his thighs.  I knew Brad was turned on by this.  I was turned on by this.  And yet we knew there were limits, this wasn’t someone we had picked up in the bar, this was my roommate.  Brad fastened the diaper and pushed himself from the bed, stood next to me.  We both looked down at him.

“I feel like I need a pacifier,” he said.

“Do you want to try the butt plug?” Brad asked.

“No, nope, too far, I’m good,” he said.

I looked to Brad, whispered for him to strip down and he did.  He stood there in his puffy diaper and rubbed the material for a moment absent mindedly.  Kevin reached down to touch the crotch of his diaper and hesitated for a moment before he saw Brad doing it so he did the same.  He rubbed the outside, front and back, just to feel it.  We all laughed it off and I returned to my bed, Brad returned to the desk.  Kevin moved to the wall where he placed a pillow and picked up his book.  It was over.

The adventure was over, I thought, but it didn’t have to be.  Just what was I thinking?  I wasn’t sure.  Three drunk guys, two of them wearing diapers, on a college campus, Sunday night.  Brad stretched and poured himself another drink.  Kevin slipped a hand down the front of his diaper, just a little, just a few fingers, but it was there.  We were bored.

“What about going on a little adventure?” I asked.

“I’m game,” Kevin said.

“Me too, I can finish this paper in the morning, just let me save it.  What did you have in mind?”

“A little walk around campus,” I said, “but, and here’s the but, you have to walk around in a diaper and a t-shirt, no pants.”

“No pants?” Kevin asked.

“No pants!” Brad shouted in celebration.

And we did, they did.  We stepped out of the dorm room a few minutes later with both of them in white t-shirts and shoes, no pants.  In the light they looked foolish and for a moment I considered making them take the elevator when the bell rang and some other people from the floor got off in conversation.  We all considered running back inside the room but they went down a different hallway, but I could tell the sudden realization of being exposed, well they were both sweating, so I told them we could take the stairs.

Walking around a college campus at night is one thing, but doing it as we were, well it was something else.  We didn’t mean anyone harm, just the opposite.  We were so focused on ourselves and each other that it was this joke between us.  We made it down the stairs and onto a path between the dorms that barely anyone ever used.  We walked towards the woods, and it would have been easy to get lost amongst them, but there would also be the risk of being seen by passing cars and the few neighbors who lived near the college and who were always complaining about stuff like this, usually it was the frats, but that night it was us.  So when I got the opportunity I steered us back toward campus because I figured if campus security saw us they’d probably laugh it off.

We walked all around campus that night, mostly stayed out of the buildings, just kind of hung around in different places, mostly stayed to the shadows.  It was funny to see them run between buildings with just their shirts to cover them, and hide when they heard someone.  But the only time we almost got caught was when we got closer to the dorms and we heard security making their rounds.  Brad and Kevin hid behind a half wall, stood as close to it as possible and I just sat there on it trying to act like we didn’t have any other place to be.  The security guard barely noticed us, but after he passed there were a few whistles and cat calls from the windows of a dorm, by the sound of it a woman.  Both of them flushed with fear and ran.  I tried to see what window, who had done it, but couldn’t make it out so I just shrugged my shoulders and followed after them back to the room.

Once again we burst into the room full of energy, but this time it died off when we got inside and felt warm again.  Each of us went back to doing something, Kevin read his book, Brad wrote his paper, and I surfed the internet.  But all we had to do was look at each other and we’d start laughing.  The most awkward moment though was when Kevin stood up to use the bathroom.  He looked to me and I shrugged my shoulders but when Brad noticed he shook his head.

“Try it,” Brad said.

“I can’t,” he replied.

“Do you mean you haven’t used it all night?” I asked.

“No, well yeah, I mean I peed a little when we were out, but like this time I really have to go and I don’t want to do it in front of you guys.”

“Don’t worry about,” I said.

“Wait, hold on, it’s the best feeling,” Brad said, “knowing and being there with a friend, someone you love,” he looked to me, “it’s wonderful.  Just give it a try.”

He closed his eyes tight as he stood there and for a moment I didn’t think it would happen then we heard it, that unmistakable sound of someone pissing in a diaper.  We laughed at it for a moment, then he farted, then he ran for the bathroom.  Brad and I looked to each other and laughed it off.  There are still some boundaries between friends.  When he came back the diaper was barely clinging to his hips as he had pulled it off then back on after doing what he needed to do.  Kevin was about to get into bed when Brad told him to wait.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

“Not yet, but if you go to bed in a diaper like that you’re asking for spills.  Pissing a diaper is one thing but pissing the bed is another because you have to do all these sheets and blankets, the mattress is ruined.  I think you need a change.”

“Could you do it?” Kevin asked.

Brad was quick to jump to his feet.  He finally had someone else to change.  This time he waited for Kevin to get into place before he got into position and just like the last time he made him hold his knees in the air with his little dick pointed towards his belly and his hole exposed.  It seemed so routine, so ordinary I didn’t watch and went back to surfing the net.  I heard a few little whispers, giggles, and for a moment it caught my attention but I was getting tired and the alcohol was working on me so I didn’t think too much about it.  So when Brad made his way over to me and crawled into bed, and he wrapped himself around me, put his lips to my ear and whispered that Kevin had asked him to put the butt plug in him I was surprised and for a moment disappointed that I hadn’t seen it, but just the thought of it, of him, there in his bed, my straight roommate with a butt plug in him and wearing just a diaper, well that was enough, and we fell asleep.

The next morning we were all awoken by the buzzing and ringing of Brad’s phone, and it was a good thing too, because we had all slept through our alarms.  Brad rubbed the crusties from his eyes as he answered it.  Kevin rolled over onto his back and for a moment I saw a look of panic on his face, then relief as I’m sure he pissed his diaper again.  Brad looked to me though with renewed fear in his eyes, he held the phone away from his mouth.

“It’s my mother,” he said, “and she wants you to come home for Christmas break.”

“I’m not ready,” I whispered back.

“Too bad, you’re coming,” he said.

“No one will be coming if we both go to your home for Christmas,” I said.

“That’s kind of the point,” he said, “my parents want to meet you.  Will your parents mind?”

I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head, my parents wouldn’t mind, they’d kill me, well not literally, but I hadn’t gone home for Thanksgiving.  I had promised I’d be home for Christmas.  But I could live with disappointing them, so I told him they wouldn’t mind and that I’d go.  He looked relieved and told his mother as he went into the bathroom for privacy.  Kevin sat up and threw his pillow at me and hit me.  He ran his hand through his hair, looked down to his diaper.

“No regrets,” he said, “the butt plug feels weird, especially to wake up with it.  Did you hear me jerking off last night?  It felt so good when I was drunk.”

“I’m glad,” I replied with a groan of disgust.  But the truth was all I could think about was Christmas break with Brad’s family.  What kind of hell could this be?

Hard Sell Pt 08 - The Personal Trainer

[Are you still interested in getting into better shape?]

Mark looked around again.

[Yes, very.  Do you have something, someone in mind?]

[You kinky bastard, I do.  His name is Apollo.  He’s a personal
trainer I know.  I’ve been telling him about you, nothing specific, no
names, yet, but what we’ve been doing.  He said he’s interested in
starting a regimen with you.  Are you interested?]

Oh god, Mark thought, a personal trainer.  This could be another thing to mark off his bucket list.  He found himself nodding even though no one was there to see and he stopped himself before quickly sending back a text.

[Yes, please, sir.]

He grinned and gave himself points for the sir part.  Oliver replied
with name, Apollo and an address, time and date, he was disappointed it would be Friday evening but it had him wanting it even more.  There was another text from Oliver telling him that he should buy something to wear, namely a jockstrap, a tank top, and a pair of shorts, short shorts like athletes wore.  Mark licked his lips at the idea and replied that he would get everything and be there on time.  He had one night to kill but he didn’t want to do it alone.

[Since it’s not going to be until tomorrow do you think we could, you know, get together?]

[I’m a bit busy this evening.  I want you to do something for
yourself.  Your ass will be mine soon enough.]

Soon enough?  It was never soon enough.  Mark sighed and sent a
message back that he understood even though he didn’t and left it at that.

He pulled into the strip mall parking lot and made his way to the back where he found one remaining business amongst several others that had been closed for months, possibly years.  He was surprised when he spotted three other cars parked nearby.  Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad if there were other people here exercising, he said to himself.  He looked up to the window to see a sign for Apollo’s Fitness.

This is the place, he told himself and slowly exited his car.  He made sure he had everything he needed in his bag: a jockstrap, shorts, and a tank top.  The outfit would be more revealing than he might be comfortable wearing, especially in front of clients, but he took a deep breath and assured himself this is what Oliver had asked him to do before he locked his car and walked to the front door.  He opened it causing the familiar sound of bell on the door that he hadn’t heard in years.  He stepped inside to a small reception area where he saw a young man sitting behind a desk.  He was handsome, thin, and well dressed.  The receptionist looked up to him with a curious brow.

“Hi, I’m here for a three o’clock appointment,” Mark said.

“You’re a little early,” the receptionist replied, “but Apollo is just
finishing up with his previous client so please take a seat and I’ll
let him know you’re here.”

Mark looked to the seats.  They were just comfortable to sit for
fifteen minutes, a half hour at most.  He sat and watched as the
receptionist finished whatever he had been doing on his computer
before getting up and walking to the back room.  He noted that man was a bit light in the loafers and smirked to himself.  Moments later the man returned and said that Apollo would be with him shortly after finishing with the previous client.  He thanked him in response and looked around the room.  He wasn’t surprised to see a few motivational posters on the walls and read over each of them to pass the time.  He had never been one for self-motivation much less motivational posters and he just smirked to himself and rolled his eyes.

After he read over them several times he looked to the receptionist
who showed no interest in even acknowledging him so he double checked his bag, even thought about going back out to his car, when he heard voices approaching from the back room.  He looked up to see two men step through a curtain.  The first man was fit, dressed in a tank top and shorts, Mark assumed he had a jock underneath, no bag.  He picked up his keys from the receptionist. The second man, the second man took away Mark’s breath at first sight.

He was six two or six three and muscled, black skinned, and dressed in shorts and tank top that looked too small for his body.  His thighs were thick causing the shorts to ride up.  His tank top looked more like a skimpy piece of cloth.  He gulped when he spotted the bulge between the man’s legs and held his breath when the man passed him and he saw his muscled butt.  He forced himself to look up to the man’s head but could barely get his eyes above the man’s shoulders there was just so much of him.  He walked the previous client to the door.  They talked like old friends and he patted the man on the shoulder as he exited.  His hand alone was big and meaty.  Mark thought he might crumble under a touch like that and no matter how much he tried to prepare himself he was still taken by surprise when the man, Apollo, turned to him.  But his face broke into a smile making Mark feel a little more at ease.

“Are you my three o’clock?”

“Yes, uh, yes sir,” Mark stammered out.

“Good, well, I thought you’d be dressed and ready.  No matter, come on back and we can take care of that.”

Mark hoped his briefs held his erection in place as he got to his feet and walked ahead of the man to the back room he had indicated.  He stepped through the curtain to see a simple four walled room, not very big but full of exercise equipment.  A rack of weights, an exercise bike, a rowing machine, a weight bench, and even one of those rubber balls.  He spotted a large, storage chest against one wall.  There was one door at the back of the room and he wasn’t sure if it was an exit, an office, or just a restroom.  He looked to Apollo as he stepped into the room.

“Well, let’s see what we’re working with,” the man said.

Mark stood frozen.  He looked around at the room.  It was obvious,
right there was all of the equipment, and then he realized the man was talking about him.  Did he want him to strip down?  Was he supposed to change right there?  Or was it just that he was talking about the soon to occur challenge of exercise?  He tightened his grip on his gym bag.

“Well?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, um, sir,” Mark replied.

“Strip down,” Apollo said, “you can put your bag and clothes on the chest over there I guess.  Next time you can leave your work clothes in the car, leave your keys with the receptionist.”

“Oh,” Mark replied.

He set his bag on the chest and looked around the room, remembered the curtain, there wouldn’t be much privacy, he said to himself.  He started to strip and looked to Apollo who moved around seeming to put things away.  He folded his clothes carefully, set them atop the chest: his shirt, his pants.  He set his belt and socks on top, his shoes beside his clothes until he was down to his briefs and he looked to Apollo who didn’t seem to be paying attention.  He was getting something out, a weight scale.  He carried it to the middle of the room.  Mark turned to his bag, pulled off his underwear, opened the bag and took out his jock.

“Actually, why don’t you come over here just like that and I can get an accurate weight,” he said.

Mark dropped his jock, covered his dick and balls with his hands, then turned to the man who waited patiently.  He walked to him, looked down to the scale, carefully he stepped onto it.

“Hey, Steve would you come in here with a chart for a new client?”

Apollo called out.  Mark took a deep breath and looked to the muscled man with pleading eyes.  

“Is there something wrong?”

Mark shook his head.  There he was naked, his hands over his crotch, and the man walked into the room through the same curtains he had walked through, carrying a clipboard and pen.  He moved to stand beside him, bit at the end of his pen and looked over Mark as if he were evaluating him.  He felt his nipples harden, a chill in the room he hadn’t noticed before, but there was nothing he could do about it.

There was nothing, if he was honest with himself, he wanted to do
about, except give in to this.

“Weight, 170 pounds,” Apollo said, “now let’s get some measurements that way we can really show improvement over the next couple of weeks.”

“I’ll be right back,” Steve said.

Mark stepped off the scale and Apollo moved it back to the corner of the room.  He looked to see Steve step into the room with the same clipboard and a roll of measuring tape just like the tailor had used on him.  He didn’t know just how personal this was going to get but he suspected it would get very intimate.  Apollo took the measuring tape and quickly set about wrapping it around and touching it to Mark’s body, chest, biceps, waist, thighs.  He called out the numbers each time and Steve quickly wrote down the numbers.  When he was done he handed it back and to Mark’s surprise Steve walked out of the room.

He felt a little bit of relief to be left with just Apollo until the
man said he wanted him to get his jock, and only his jock.  Mark
walked back to the chest, picked it up, stepped into it and pulled it
into place, adjusted his dick inside and felt a little bit of ejaculate
on his fingers.  He quickly licked it from his fingers before turning
back to his trainer.  The man smirked to him and motioned for him to step back into the middle of the room.  He did.

“Ten jumping jacks,” he ordered.

Mark laughed off his nervousness and set about the task. Pushups, burpees, run in place, more jumping jacks, he quickly put him through a calisthenics test, told him to adjust pace and form each time.  Mark felt his lungs begin to burn, his heart possibly beat the fastest it had done in years except for maybe during sex or
masturbation.  Sweat formed all over his body, across his back, his
face, and it began to run down the middle of his back.  For one
routine he felt like he had done everything perfectly because after it
he felt so tired he wasn’t sure if he could keep form no matter how
much he tried.  And just when he was about to fall to the floor in
exhaustion Apollo told him to take a break after sit ups so he just
lay there and caught his breath.  He heard the man move around, bring over some weights.

Still on the floor Mark looked up to see Apollo standing over his
head.  He could see up the man’s shorts, a flash of white jock strap, then he set weights down on either side and ordered him to pick them up.  He picked up one in each hand and set to the task of pressing them above his chest.  He realized he was flat on his back, knees in the air, his dick covered by a thin white fabric, the straps around his butt.  Apollo walked around him observing him from every angle.

His dick started to harden, strained against the band.  Apollo kept at him, put him back through the exercises, added weights with different positions until he was exhausted, covered in sweat, one knee up, flat on his back, his head to the side.  Mark panted for breath.

“Please,” Mark cried out.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I’m about to puke,” Mark replied.

“Okay, let’s take a little break,” Apollo replied.

Mark looked to the man truly grateful for being given a reprieve.  He
fell to his back and took several deep breaths until his heart slowed. He realized just then how read his skin had gotten, how hard his nipples felt.  He wanted to touch himself all over, especially his dick and his nipples, maybe slip a finger between his cheeks, but as he lay there under Apollo’s tutelage he just bit at his lip and told himself he had to keep it professional.  Just when he thought his body had almost returned to normal he heard his trainer clear his throat.

“Yes sir?”

“Just one more thing,” Apollo said.

“What’s that?”

“Cool down,” he replied.

“I’m okay,” Mark said.

“That wasn’t a question.  It’s a requirement, now get your ass up,” he ordered.

Mark forced himself up to his knees, then to his feet.  He watched as Apollo moved to the chest, set aside his bag and clothes, then opened it.  He reached one hand down inside and took hold of something, he pulled out a silver chain, a dog chain, pulled until it reached its maximum length and then he was pulling on something, a black rubber covered head emerged, someone, Mark told himself.  He watched as Apollo pulled a man from inside the chest, naked except for the rubber mask, a leather harness, cuffs on his wrists and his ankles.  He was completely hairless from the neck down, no hair anywhere so his hard dick stuck out obscenely from his body.  It was eight, no nine inches long, and the tip was red, that’s when he noticed the cock ring.

Apollo led the gimp slave across the room to in front of the exercise
bike and told him to get on his knees.  He watched as Apollo walked into the back room for something.  The gimp slave didn’t look his direction at all.  Was it the receptionist under there?  Had he stripped and been placed in the chest while Apollo was making him workout so hard?  He looked to the doorway and saw his trainer was carrying something, he moved to the bicycle and carefully attached it, a fuck machine, Mark realized, normally it was powered by an electric motor but he had a feeling this one was powered by the bike.  He was going to be on the bike, he realized.  He felt his dick harden and watched as his trainer moved the slave gimp into position and slowly worked the machine into position with the other man until the dildo on its end was inserted into him, then he tied him off by the chain on his neck, his cuffs.  He was stuck there.  Mark unconsciously licked his lips.

“Come over here,” Apollo said.

“Yes sir,” Mark replied with renewed enthusiasm.

“This is going to be like our own little spin class,” he said, “but
with a change.”

Mark nodded to the man.

“There’s just one more thing,” Apollo said before walking away to the back room again.  He came back moments later with another dildo in his hands, this one had a metal shaft attached to its base.  He moved to the bike, took off the seat, and replaced it with the dildo.

“You can’t be serious,” Mark blurted out.

“Strip and ride this thing, that is if you want to give this little
piggy, gimp slave the fuck of his life.”

Oh, he wanted to do it.  He really wanted to do it.  This stranger who had been kept in the chest, there he was bound and naked, a hard dick between his thighs, little chance of getting off, and getting fucked in the ass by the dildo fuck machine attached to the bike he’d be powering himself.

He looked to the dildo.  Apollo smirked at him before picking up the
same lubricant he had used on the gimp and applied it to the dildo
that had replaced the seat.  He greased every inch of it, then
motioned for Mark to move in and get onto it.  He stepped over the
center bar, put a foot on each pedal causing a slight movement of the wheels, the dildo, which caused the gimp to whimper.  He smiled at the notion of what he was about to do.  Apollo placed one hand on his stomach and took hold of the dildo with his other, slowly he eased him back until it entered his hole.

For just a moment he wanted to stop as he felt it dilate his
sphincter, so big he thought it would somehow split him in two but his sunk further down it.  He could feel each inch push up inside of his body.  His hole felt like it would never close again and he didn’t
want it to because even the pain felt like pleasure.   Eventually he
sunk to the base and let out a groan, felt sweat on his brow that he
wiped away with the back of his hand.  But the most surprising thing was his dick as he felt it harden like a rock.  He looked down to it, red and swollen, his balls tight.  He just wanted to touch it so
slowly he lowered his hand but Apollo saw him and slapped it away.

“Please sir,” he begged.

“No, get that ass moving,” the man replied.

Slowly he began to pedal and he looked to the machine as it increased in speed and he heard the gimp whimper so he slowed but Apollo was quick to spank him on the butt and he picked up speed again.  The gimp before him, his thighs, narrow waist, the way his balls and dick was tucked between his thighs completely helpless.  He felt another spank on his butt and picked up speed again, watched the dildo machine fuck him faster and faster until it reached its maximum speed.  He was pumping as hard and fast as he could, tried to use the motion of the pedals to his advantage.  Apollo reached around from behind and began to play with his nipples, two hard little points that became so sensitive that he began to twist at just a little touch.  He could smell himself.  He could smell the lubricant.  His own heart felt like it would seize in his chest.

And the gimp, that poor gimp was secured in place getting rammed by the machine, relentless and persistent.  There was no stopping it.  A dildo very much like the one inside of Mark’s asshole was also in that gimp and it pounded him mercilessly.  Mark’s thigh muscles strained, his feet felt heavy, his arms weak he leaned down onto the bike to try and find some comfortable position causing the dildo to shift.  His balls rubbed against his thighs and if only, just only a few more inches something might touch his dick that leaked ejaculate.

Just when he was about to slow, about to give up, he felt Apollo leave him.  He listened as he walked over to the chest then come back.  He stepped into his sight, a flick of the wrist and Mark saw the little bull whip in his hand.  “Oh no,” Mark cried out, and Apollo smirked before stepping into position and whipping him across the back.  The first few times didn’t feel like much, a passing sensation, but as the man continued to whip his back he felt it build and that’s when the man struck him more quickly.  He pushed harder against the pedals until the whip fell in synch with each time around.  His dick.  His back.  His hole.  His heavy feet.  Sweat covered him.  And that gimp, the sounds of the gimp as he struggled against his bonds somehow fueled him more, his groans almost became recognizable pleas.

That didn’t stop him.  He looked to Apollo who lazily stroked his own dick with one hand and whipped with the other.  He saw the shape and girth of his dick and recognized it.  It was just like the dildo in him and the one in the gimp.  He had made replicas of his dick and they were being fucked by them.  He pushed himself up, locked his elbows, let his knees just keep going as he began to think of himself as part of that same machine fucking the gimp.  He was just another part, the engine.  Mark felt the pain his back as it gave in to the pain and he arched back and let out a yell, a scream, so primal and intense he barely recognized it was coming from his own body.  That’s when it happened, tears running down his face, Apollo touched his dick, the sensitive head, and he shot, a blinding orgasm, sweat blinded him when he closed his eyes.  And it didn’t stop, not instantly like so many others, it echoed in his body from his toes to his fingertips, from his shoulders to his knees.  He felt Apollo’s arms wrap around him and he fell into his grasp, his entire body held up by the other man who slowly lifted him from the bicycle, the dildo slipped from his hole with a plop.  He would have laughed if he hadn’t been so exhausted.  He felt helpless and used as the man carried him over and laid him down next to the gimp on his side so he could see the stranger, the gimp.

Apollo pulled the dildo from him too, dragged the machine away.  He released the gimp, pushed him to the floor and turned his head to look back at Mark who lay there naked, his limp dick leaked over his thigh. They looked each other in the eye as Apollo pushed one of the gimp’s knees up to his chest to access to his hole.  He watched as the muscled man pushed inside easily and began to pound him.  He could hear the skin slap against skin.  He saw the pain and pleasure in the gimp’s face as the man caused his body to shift with each thrust.

Finally Apollo grunted and moaned as he pushed as deep as he could until it seemed as if the gimp himself had been flattened against the ground.  He could see the perfect outline of his trainer, his thighs, his round butt, his wide back, muscled and powerful.  He wished he could have another orgasm himself right then and for a moment he licked his lips when he saw the gimp take shape again before him, on his back, his dick stuck out from his body.  It twitched in some attempt to just feel something, anything, just enough for the gimp to have his own orgasm.  He watched as the gimp slowly reached down to touch himself only for Apollo to slap his hand away.

“Not today,” the man said.

“Please,” the gimp begged.

“No.”

Mark rolled onto his back and looked up to the ceiling.  He closed his eyes and let himself give in to the exhaustion.  It didn’t matter if
he were naked in Times Square he needed sleep so he just let it
overtake him.  Barely cognizant he listened as Apollo dragged the man into a shower, heard him cry out as the spray hit him and he
complained about it being cold water.  He pleaded to just have an
orgasm but Apollo gave him an ultimatum, one orgasm and he’d be locked it chastity for two months instead of the usual one.  He smirked to himself at the thought of the man in chastity.  No orgasm after all of that, Mark’s mind reeled inside the darkness of exhaustion.  Would that, could that ever happen to him?  He didn’t like the idea but for someone else it was amusing.  Then darkness again, this time broken by the feeling of being lifted and carried into the shower.

Four hands on his body, warm water, the smell of soap, those same
hands washed every inch of him, every inch, even between his toes and he never even washed his own toes, not really.  He opened his eyes a little but the room was dimly lit and he could barely make out the two men’s bodies as they worked.  He felt a finger inside his hole, once to clean him out, once to check for damage.  He was putty to them and didn’t try to fight it.

When they finished they carried him out, dried him off, and even
dressed him.  He felt Apollo lift him from the floor and carry him out
to his car and set him in the backseat.  He listened as they drove
away.  For a moment he thought he was being kidnapped but then he just gave over to the feeling of not knowing and fell asleep.
The car stopped and he awoke.  The door opened, the two men took hold of him, Apollo was quick to put him over his shoulder while the other took his car keys and ran ahead.  Mark looked up to see his neighborhood.  They were taking him to his apartment.  He smiled at the thought of his own bed.  It was quick.  Up the stairs, through his front door, to his bedroom, Apollo set him down, stripped him again, rolled him onto his side and covered him with a sheet.  He felt it cover him, his shoulders, his back, his butt, all of the way down to his feet.  He was home.  And that’s when he heard the most surprising thing, the other man, the one who was the gimp spoke.

“Do you think he recognized me?” he whispered.

“No, I don’t think so,” Apollo replied.

“There was a moment when you were fucking me at the end that we looked each other in the eye and I think he did.”

“Does it matter?”

“I hope not.”

Mark pushed himself up on his elbow, tried to turn to look back to
them, but he heard their feet, the closing of doors as they exited.
What did that mean?  I don’t really care, he told himself.