By beeflover2001

I don't know why I hated the kid, but I did. Well, that's not true exactly. I did know why. At maybe 24 or 25, he was at least 20 years younger than I was, with a build no one his age should have had; certainly a body I'd never have. He was maybe 6'2", with blond hair and baby-smooth skin, probably almost 300 pounds of rock solid muscle. He was hot and he knew it too.

He'd come to the gym wearing nothing but spandex shorts and a wife-beater two sizes two small. It dug into his traps, making his mighty shoulders seem all the more impressive, and hugged his pecs like a second skin. Vein-encrusted arms hung meaty and thick from his shoulders and he'd twitch his biceps for fun. You couldn't help but follow the shirt down the ridges of his abs to where it tucked into his lycra shorts. He dressed left, quite obviously, and it was fortunate that his shorts reached almost to his knees. Any shorter, and the head of his dick would have been sticking out. The shorts were tight enough to show what religion he was and fabric rippled and puckered as it caressed the muscle separation in his thighs. I couldn't understand why the management let him dress in such a blatantly sexual manner. The only thing I could figure is that the kid was letting the manager blow him or worship him.

I tried not to, but I couldn't help looking. No one could. He compelled you to watch him. He'd come in to do arms, and grab the heaviest dumbbells the gym had, then proceed to bang out 15 or 20 reps, complaining that the weight was too light. He'd make sure the gym would be looking at him as his already huge arms pumped up even bigger. "Fuck!" he'd grunt, trying to squeeze the last rep out of his screaming muscle. Then he'd drop the 'bells with a bang and raise his arms into a tremendous double bi, peaks bursting, back stretching his wife-beater so much you'd think it was going to tear in half. "Bam! What'd you think of these guns?" he'd say to the hapless on-looker whose gaze he'd caught. "Big fucking musclestud, right, guy?" The flustered man would make some inane remark and at the kid's contemptuous look, creep away.

That morning at the gym, I was the hapless on-looker. It was pretty deserted when the kid came in. Sometimes I liked to work out in the morning because it's empty. There were a few retirees, the old guys who were trying to stave off Father Time for another few years, and few like me, maybe with the day off or a business meeting later in the afternoon. At 45, I wasn't exactly in bad shape - I'd played some football in college, but only started hitting the gym again last year, so while I had some residual muscle from my jock days, it wasn't as hard and firm as I'd like, and I had more of a gut than I wanted.

The kid came striding in, muscles bristling. Once again in a wife-beater, this time in cherry red lycra shorts. Christ I hated that kid.

"Hey, Pops," he called out to me, before I had a chance to look away. "You ready to see some serious muscle work today?" The arrogance just dripped from him, and his sneer as he looked down at me made me even angrier. "Come on, Pops," he continued, then bounced his massive chest for a few seconds. "You know you like looking at this fucking muscle. Shit, all you old guys like looking at a hot young musclestud. Don't be so uptight."

He laughed at my discomfort and began to load plate after plate on the bench press. I turned away in disgust. "Hey, Pops," he called to me in the mirror. "Don't go too far, I might need some spotting. Although I'm not sure how much help you would be to me."

With an ease born of years of practice, he slid himself under the laden bar and began pumping out rep after rep, until his pecs began to inflate under the undershirt and pull at the ribbed material.

I was trying to do some dumbbell curls but I kept staring at his reflection behind me, watching as those huge mounds would bulge into melons with his arms extended, then flatten (although they were so thick, they were never truly flat) as the bar bounced off his torso. He came up behind me, standing off to one side and bounced his pecs, while his eyes bore into mine. "You know, Pops," he sneered into the mirror, "you're never gonna put on any muscle if all the blood keeps rushing down to your dick."

"Listen, you little bastard," I started, turning around to face him. He lifted a thick finger and put it to my lips. The audacity of this stupid ass punk, I thought.

"Hey, take it easy, old man," he said. "I'm just fooling with you." He pressed his finger against my lips and to my horror, they parted to accept it. As my tongue reached out to touch his finger, he smirked and pulled it away before I could lick it. I was mortified at what I'd wanted to do.

The kid turned around and headed back to the benchpress, swiveling his head to make sure I paid attention to how big and wide his lats were. As he began cranking out reps again, I stormed off to the cardio room, nursing what could have turned into a major boner. ................................

I didn't see the kid again when I emerged from running five miles on the treadmill. I showered, changed into my suit and tie, and headed out the door into the bright summer afternoon. What had happened in there? I was used to being in control. I'd owned my own company for 15 years, was boss to over 100 people, yet I had wanted to submit to this punk kid without a whimper.

As I rounded the corner heading back towards the parking lot, I heard a voice call out, "Hey, Pops." My blood chilled as the kid stepped in front of me, still in his tight wife-beater and lycra shorts. "Where you going?" he asked with feigned indifference.

"Look, kid," I said. "I don't have time for your bullshit, OK? Get out of my way." I started to push past him, but he was bigger than I by at least 100 pounds - all of it muscle - and five inches. My head just about reached his chin. With barely a twitch of his massive physique, he pushed me against the wall, with his marble thigh rammed between my own. I had to spread my legs to accommodate the bulk of his quads. He held my arms above my head with one of his own. This close, I could tell he hadn't showered after his work-out and the pungent scent of muscleman assaulted my nostrils.

"First off, Pops," he said. "My name's Todd, not 'Kid.' Second, you're not really in a position to tell me to do anything." To emphasize his point, Todd pressed his thigh harder against my basket and lifted his leg slightly, just enough so that I had to rest more of my weight on his quad. Despite myself, I felt my dick start to thicken, even as Todd increased his crushing pressure on my crotch. He sneered down at me, just as he had in the gym. "Feels like someone likes being manhandled, eh, Pops?"

"First off, Todd," I retorted. "My name's not 'Pops,' it's Mr. Randall."

"Oh yeah, 'Mister Randall,' that's a good one," he snorted. "I think you call someone by their last name only as a sign of respect."

I tried to continue as if he hadn't interrupted me, but it was hard (as was I, and I knew it was all too evident to Todd).

"Look, Todd, what do you want?" I asked. I was getting uncomfortable with his thigh between my legs, because more and more, I wanted to start humping it like a dog.

"I'm thinking, Mister Randall," the way he said it was so contemptuous that I felt like a school child being chastised by his teacher. "That maybe you'd like a private viewing of my muscles. You seemed to be enjoying them in the gym and you should see what I can do in the privacy of my own home." Keeping the pressure between my legs, and his right hand holding my arms above my head, he raised his left arm in a massive single biceps. It swelled up like a balloon. "Man, that's some big fucking muscle, isn't it, Mister Randall?"

He lowered his arm and then flexed the leg rammed against my crotch, making his muscle bounce. Each bounce of his quad made my crotch throb in time. I desperately wanted to look down and watch his sinews in action but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. I was getting close to cumming from the pressure and Todd moved in for the kill.

"You really, really like my fucking leg between your thighs, don't you, Mister Randall." It was a statement, not a question. "'Fucking leg' is right," he laughed, bending closer to me to run his tongue along my ear and exhaled hotly. I arched my back and moaned. "Oh, yeah, Pops, you like this fucking muscle son totally dominatin' you, don't you?"

I knew I would shoot at any second and my lust for this muscle punk was mixed with my anger at his power over me. I struggled a little, but now Todd was actively fucking my crotch with his leg. He continued to hold my arms above my head with no strain at all. "Oh yeah, Daddy, come on, shoot that load for me," he breathed hotly, his tongue snaking in and out of my ear.

With a groan, I thrust my dick against his leg and shot in my pants for the first time since I'd been a teenager trapped in gym class. I kept humping away until the inside of my underwear was slick and slippery. Todd continued to press his leg against me, smearing the cum all around so that a huge wet spot soon showed through the crotch of my trousers.

Now the old sneer was back, as he kept me pressed against the brick wall. I was angry again: at myself for shooting in my pants like some sex-starved teenager, and at Todd for driving me to it. Casually, he raised his left arm again, made it swell and bounced it a few times.

I struggled, but he kept me pinned against the brick wall, my arms still above my head and going numb, a smug look on his face in the aftermath of my orgasm. He leaned to my ear, licking the lobe and whispered, "It was good for you, Mister Randall." Not a question, but a statement of fact. He ground his crotch against my hip and I felt the bulk of his dick throbbing. "It'll be my turn soon," he promised.

No way was I going to give him that satisfaction. I continued to struggle against his massive frame, tears of rage and humiliation starting to flow. Who the fuck was this kid who had reduced me to this? With a mighty effort, I pushed back and, partly to my surprise, managed to flip him around, ramming him against the wall.

"Now how do you like it?" I cried, slapping my hands hard against his huge chest. "Leave me the fuck alone!" And I pulled away.

Or tried to. I discovered I could not step back because Todd's arms were around me, running up and down my back, preventing my escape. Through my tears, I looked at him and saw his by-now familiar smug smile playing around his lips and eyes, as he leaned casually against the bricks.

"What's the matter, Daddy?" he asked, his hands reaching under my jacket and pulling my dress shirt from my pants. He slipped his calloused hands inside my shirt and started stroking my back. "Can't tear yourself away from me?"

I realized that I hadn't flipped Todd around, but that he had chosen to switch places. I still struggled against those iron pillar arms but I was going nowhere fast as he pulled me in closer. He straightened up and with a savage force, twisted us around again, ramming me hard into the wall this time, knocking the breath from me for a second. My arms were pinned at my sides now and he raised his massive hands to frame my face. I squeezed my eyes shut and the tears overflowed.

"It's about time you understood something, little man. I call the shots from now on and always," he said coldly. I noticed he had called me "little man," which I liked even less than the mocking way he called me "Mr. Randall." With a gentleness that belied his tone of voice, though, he reached out a thumb to wipe the tears from my cheek. He held his thumb against my lips, which I refused to open. I was going to maintain some dignity, no matter how small.

He chuckled and pressed his thumb harder. I still refused. With a sigh of exasperation, he leaned closer and breathed in my ear. "Open up for me, little man." He continued stroking his tear-wet thumb against my lips. "Accept it, Daddy and surrender to me."

I parted my lips but only to hiss through clenched teeth, again, "Leave me the fuck alone!"

Todd ignored me and kept on stroking his thumb. He exhaled into my ear again, his breath hot, yet I shivered and my nipples started to throb. "Oh, little man, don't you think I know when someone's crying out for this? I've had my eye on you for a long time. It's time to admit it. You want to be dominated by a big strong son."

I was trapped, and while no amount of fighting him would get him to release me, but I refused to listen to what he was saying.

Just then, we both heard a car drive around to the parking lot. I opened my eyes in a panic and Todd's eyes captured mine. I didn't want anyone to see me like this, trapped by this big muscleman. I realized with a sinking feeling that my panic had played into his hands.

He chuckled. "Open up, Daddy," he said in my ear, "and I'll let you free." The thumb still played around my shut lips. "Otherwise, everyone will know you for the submissive you really are."

Even though I knew it was useless, I tried to pull myself free again. Todd shook his head. "Mister Randall, I'm patient, but even I have limits." He moved his thumb and holding my head in his right hand, twisted it to the left so I could see his left arm. He grabbed hold of a loose brick in the wall and started to work his fingers into the mortar.

"How long will it take you to learn that I control you now?" he asked, as I watched the muscles in his massive forearm writhe and pump up. Steel-like fingers clawed through the edges of the brick. His forearm seemed to get bigger and bigger as he muscled his way around the red stone.

I heard a grinding noise as mortar crumbled and with a small grunt, he pulled the brick free. Looking at me, then back at the brick, he began to squeeze. My breath caught in my throat as I watched his fingers sink into the brick, red dust barely escaping through them. His forearm was huge now and crisscrossed with thick veins. I couldn't believe it when the brick suddenly cracked in two and fell to the ground. Todd held his dirty hand up for my inspection.

He turned my head back to face him and wiped his thumb against my still-damp cheek, leaving a trail of brick dust. He put his thumb against my lips again and pushed harder. We heard car doors slam and I knew that whoever it was would be rounding the corner in seconds. Todd bent his head to my ear again.

"They'll be here any second, little man. Open up to me and I'll let you go." His voice was insistent now, not cajoling as it had been. Still I resisted, but I was started to feel a throbbing in my crotch.

"You know what," he sneered, "maybe to teach you a lesson, I'll fuck you in front of them." He flipped me around so I was facing the wall and pressed his crotch against my ass, humping twice for effect. "Any second, Daddy..."

Still I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Todd humped some more and I felt his dick harden. My own stiffened in response. He continued to lick my ear, breathing hot and heavy now, stabbing his thick wet tongue in my ear. Before I could stop myself, I moaned and he shoved his dirty thumb inside my mouth.

"Good boy," he said, stepping back, letting me free. I felt curiously heavier without the bulk of his muscle pressing against me, but I quickly suppressed that feeling.

I turned around to wipe my eyes and start fixing my disheveled clothing. I didn't want to adjust myself because Todd would know I got excited again.

Two men rounded the corner. I had chatted with them once or twice, but had always been in awe of them. One was even older than I -- Lou I thought was his name -- but built so huge that he was incredible not only for a man in his 50s, but for any age. Silver hair topped a handsome craggy face and massive muscle strained a t-shirt and sweat pants. He and Todd locked eyes as they passed and I realized with a start, it was one alpha male acknowledging the presence of another.

I bent down to gather my gym bag and started away. Todd snapped out a hand to grab my arm. Just loud enough for the other man to hear, he said, "Just a moment, little man."

My heart started to pound. The other alpha turned around and with a jerk of his thumb (which made his huge bicep bulge), sent his companion inside the gym. He stood there, watching us dispassionately.

"What do you want?" I asked, barely keeping the petulance out of my voice. This boy had humiliated me when we were alone and now he was doing it in front of an audience. "I did what you wanted."

"No, Daddy, I'm afraid you didn't," Todd said, shaking his head. Glancing over at Lou, he remarked to me, "You were supposed to surrender to me and you didn't."

It was useless to try and pretend nothing had happened. "Yes I did," I said.

Todd sighed. "I told you to open up for me and you resisted all the time," he lectured. "You opened your mouth because my tongue in your ear made you." He stepped closer to me and I felt threatened. "That's not surrendering, Mister Randall, and for that, you need to be disciplined."

I was starting to panic, but his iron grasp on my arm prevented me from going anywhere. I looked wildly over at Lou, but he remained impassive, mighty arms crossed over huge pecs. Somehow I knew he wouldn't interfere with another dominant male's reprimand of his submissive. Oh God, was that what I was? Todd's submissive boy?

Todd bent down and grabbing my legs, hoisted me up and flung me over his right shoulder. I squirmed against the big hard deltoid. It felt as though a rock-hard beach ball was pushing against my middle and I was fully hard now. I knew it was obvious to Todd that he had made me hard again.

He turned us around so we both faced Lou. Todd grinned at the other man. Lou inclined his head towards me. "Trouble?" he asked in a gruff tone.

Todd shook his head. Laughing, he said, "Nah, just the first day on the job for him."

They were talking about me as though I were Todd's possession; hell, they were talking as though I weren't even there. I felt Todd's big hand run up my leg possessively to grab my ass surprisingly painfully.

"Hey, buddy, how's it hanging?" Lou asked, coming closer to where Todd stood, me over his shoulder. They both laughed.

"Say hello to the man, Mister Randall," Todd ordered. I kept silent and hung my head. "You're not being very hospitable."

"Mister Randall?" Lou asked, as he squatted before me.

"Yeah, he thinks because he's older than I am, he should be in control."

"Is that so, little man?" With a nod up at Todd, he grabbed my chin in his fingers and held my eyes prisoner to his own. "I think you need to re-assess your situation. You're folded ass up over a man's shoulders. It's not about age, it's about control and you, my little man, are not in control, nor should you be."

I tried to pull my head away, but Lou's grip on my chin was too strong and I had no leverage on Todd's shoulder.

Lou stood up and said to Todd, "Looks like you got your work cut out for you with this one."

"Oh, I like a challenge," Todd said condescendingly, squeezing my ass with a hard grip. "By the way, I'm Todd, man." He hoisted me a little farther up his shoulder and held his hand out.

Lou grasped Todd's outstretched hand and shook it firmly. I could tell that a weaker man's hand would have been crushed to dust. "Lou."

Lou nodded towards me again. "I've seen this one around the gym. If I hadn't been training a new boy myself at the time, I might have taken a crack at him."

I suppose I could have felt some kind of pride that two of these dominant men wanted me, but I was too upset over what how my life had been thrown upside-down in a morning. Literally. "You know, Lou," Todd said, "if you still want that chance at my little man, you're welcome to join us."

Lou ran his hand down my back, grabbed the back of my neck and squeezed. Hard. "Ow," escaped my lips, as he released his hand.

"I'm not somebody's piece of property, asshole," I hissed, struggling again against Todd's hold on me.

Lou remained silent, but Todd reacted. I couldn't see what he was doing, but all of a sudden, I felt the weight of his strong hand on my ass. He spanked me!

"Little man, if you ever speak to me or anyone in that tone of voice, using that kind of language, I will beat you," he snarled, winding up and giving my ass another slap. Even though I was expecting it, it still hurt. Maybe even more so because I was being spanked as though I were a child.

Lou continued as if I hadn't spoken, "I won't hone in on another's man property before he's ready," he said. What was this, I thought, an honor code among alpha males? "But once you've done some basic training, I'll be glad to put him through his paces. Here's my number."

He didn't have a piece of paper, so he pulled up my shirt and wrote his number along my back. "Don't lose it, little man," Lou joked.

Todd chuckled too. "I'll catch you later, Lou," he said. Lou headed into the gym and Todd trotted with me out to his car.

It was a big green SUV. Letting me off his shoulder, he propped me against the door, squeezing my crotch until I gasped from the pain. "It seems like someone liked being up on my shoulder," he said.

Continuing, he snapped, "I meant what I said about behaving yourself. I will punish you next time." I could have walked away while he was opening the door, but I didn't. I don't know why I didn't. This kid had humiliated me and made me cry and I stood there waiting while he unlocked his car.

He picked me up and put me inside, fastening the seatbelt around me and closing the door. "You're not going to move, are you, little man?" he asked. I remained silent. "I didn't think so," he laughed.

Coming around the front but keeping an eye on me, he got in and started the engine. "Are you ready for my special training, little man?" he asked as we headed out to the highway.

I could only imagine. •

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