By AbsMan420


As much as the Cop likes being part of the Bodybuilder's Stable, loves getting the gifts from the clients, loves being worshipped by these rich business men, he aches for the unbelievable orgasm of his MASTER'S cock, the Bodybuilder's fuck. The Athlete sympathizes. He's been fucked by the Bodybuilder twice, once when he was recruited, and once for reward of bringing the Cop into the fold. He confides to the Cop that it's better the second time, then smirks. He knows that will irritate the Cop, and maybe bring out some of his innate competitiveness. Even though in truth, it had been better the second time.

The Cop knows that to get fucked a second time himself, he's gonna have to bring a new recruit to the Bodybuilder, someone to join him and the Athlete in the Stable. "You'll know the type," the Bodybuilder had said, "when you meet them."

The Athlete concurs, and the two of them practice saying The Words to each other every night, searching for the correct pronunciation, creating the correct vibratory tone, the buzz -- as it were -- that makes the magic, so that they can gather Recruits themselves. It's difficult. The two of them sit there on the edge of the Athlete's bed and take turns leaning into each other's ears and practicing. Most of the time, it doesn't work. It's just a voice half-whispering, "You must submit to muscle."

Then, all at once, the Cop gets it right. He realizes how to hold his jaw, how to flex his throat, where to place the tone on his soft pallet; it feels very natural, like learning to whistle, easy to do but impossible to describe. He just HAS it. Just like that, he whispers "YOU MUST SUBMIT TO MUSCLE," to the athlete, and all at once, the Athlete's eyes glaze over, his cock springs to immediate attention, and he savagely beats it off, while the Cop watches, pleased with himself.

The Athlete falls back onto the bed after he cums, mumbling, "Oh, yeah. You got it. Oh, yeah," with a kind of drug-stupor smile on his face. He asks, "How?"

"I dunno," says the Cop. "I just leaned into your ear and TALKED LIKE THIS." He smiles, as the Athlete suddenly becomes erect again.

"Oh, shit," the Athlete says. "You did it again. Oh, man." The Cop clearly sees him trying to resist, but ultimately the compulsion wins out, and the Athlete jerks off again. "Fucker," he says to the Cop as he pounds. "This is just mean." He screams when he cums, and completely collapses on the bed.

"Perfect," says the Cop, getting up to leave, "I'm gonna go find me a new recruit."

"Wait a minute," says the Athlete from the bed, climbing slowly to gain a footing, exhausted and drained. "I'll come with you."

"No," says the Cop. "I wanna do this alone. Besides," he says, switching to the correct tone, "YOU'VE GOT SOMETHING ELSE TO DEAL WITH. AND THIS IS THE MOST POWERFUL YET."

The Athlete actually says, "You fucker," before his cock throbs to life. The Cop leaves the Athlete there, kneeling on the floor, savagely stroking his now painful erection. The Cop drives quickly to the gym -- and not his normal gym, the muscle-head gym -- but to a new gym in town, the one built near the big suburban high school. The Cop is looking for new blood. Young blood.

He wears spandex shorts and a muscle shirt, and his prime musculature pumps and plows through his workout. Well, he's not really serious about working out, he's just pumping up, trying to look impressive. Which, he does. With his tan and his cuts and his sheer size -- both muscularly and sexually -- he dares anyone to take him on.

The men in the gym watch him in awe. Some openly, some hiding in the maze of machines, but they all look, straight and gay. The Cop loves it. He's certain he'll pick up a few clients today, at least.

There's one. Almost exactly what the Cop is looking for. Five-six, five-seven, compact, with big shoulders/ traps, strong legs, tight ass, he's obviously a wrestler -- one sport where the Cop's pal the Athlete doesn't excel -- and the Cop has been searching for a small gymnast or wrestler type. And this one is good-looking, too. Strong jaw, pretty eyes, long lashes. Hardly a whisker or chest hair on him, maybe eighteen, but with a fine, tight body, a hungry look, and a cocky walk.

The Bodybuilder had been right, the Cop just FEELS that this kid is the correct choice. He's definitely aggressive -- the Cop discovers that by watching the Kid workout -- and he's into his looks. This is gonna be easy.

The Cop approaches the Kid while he's getting a drink. When the Kid turns around, he's blocked by the wall that is the Cop. "Hey," the Cop says, smiling a tiny bit.

"What's up?" says the Kid, who may have been surprised by the Cop's presence, but recovers quickly. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Not too much, buddy," says the Cop. "Just catchin' a pump." He flexes his biceps there between them, and the Kid is impressed, but tries to be cool.

"You're a big guy," says the Kid. The Cop nods, with a "no kidding" kind of shrug.

"I was your size once," says the Cop. "Then I learned a secret."

The Kid laughs. He knows he's being patronized. "Oh, yeah?" he says, not about to play the fool. "Lay it on me. Tell me the big secret: 'Eat right and exercise;' 'Don't do drugs.' Right? Lame."

The Cop leans into his ear and whispers The Words, "YOU MUST SUBMIT TO MUSCLE," using the Voice. He pulls back, glancing at the Kid's blank face, then turns to get a drink while the Kid finishes absorbing what he's said. He can feel the Kid's eyes on him, his mass, as he bends to drink, and he gives the Kid a good, long look at his ass, round in its spandex, before he stands up.

The Kid is frozen, staring at the Cop, while his dick grows in his shorts. The Cop smiles, and says, "You better go take care of that," while he adjusts his own package in his spandex. The Kid mumbles "yeah," and starts to play with himself right there, grabbing a handful of cock and shorts. The Cop quietly says, "Maybe in the locker room." The Kid vacantly says, "yeah," and trots off toward the men's locker room, one hand holding his erection through his shorts, a need growing on his face.

The Cop wanders back to the free weight area, doing reps on the seated calf machine. He's just starting to get into the pump when the Kid reappears, leaning against the weight rack, a stupid, lusty smile on his face as he watches the Cop.

Remembering how great his first time had felt, the Cop smirks and says, "How ya feelin'?"

The Kid unconciously touches his package as he answers, adjusting his already larger cock -- though he doesn't know it, yet -- "Feel really great. I'm Justin." He extends the same hand he'd been beating off with toward the Cop.

The Cop shakes it, entertained by the Kid's awkwardnes, enjoying the first physical touching between the two. "Hey," he says. "You can call me Joe." That's not the Cop's name -- truthfully, he doesn't actually remember his real name -- but it's the name he uses on his web page, to advertise for clients, so it feels right to use it now.

As they shake hands, the Cop's tiny cell phone chirps, attached to the waistband of his spandex shorts. "Hold on," he says to the Kid, although he still holds the Kid's hand while he grabs the phone with the other. "Yeah?" he answers, his voice suddenly dripping lust. "Yes, sir, that's me. Yeah, tonight at 8:30 is fine. Uniform? Excellent. Usual place? Okay, see you then. Yes, sir. Goodbye."

He's been holding the Kid's hand the entire time, and as he re-attaches the phone to his shorts, he squeezes it, saying, "Sorry about that kid. Business."

The Kid asks, "What business are you in?" He suddenly pulls his hand from Cop, realizing that he's had it there too long. He's embarrassed, but enticed.

"Wish fulfillment," says the Cop, standing up until he's towering over the Kid. He starts to leave. "See you around."

The Kid is confused. "Uh, yeah," he says, then steps after the Cop. "Hey," he calls. "uh, when… when do you normally work out?"

"I come here every now and again," the Cop lies. "I'll be back, kid. Hope you're here when I do. Think about what I said." With that, he leaves, tossing his bag in his car and driving off.

He doesn't return to the gym for nearly a week, and he thoroughly enjoys the tease he's being. He knows the Kid is there, probably everyday, working out hard and praying the Cop will appear. Aching for the Cop to appear. So, when he does -- for the sport of it -- he wears a wrestling singlet under a baggy t-shirt. It hugs his balls and the crack in his ass.

He's been pedaling on the bike just long enough to break a bead of sweat when the Kid comes through the door. Even though it's only been a week, the Cop can see the Kid's improvement -- he's probably gained ten pounds in his musculature, mostly in his legs. The Kid sees the Cop while checking in and nearly runs to the bikes, skipping the locker room. He drops his gym bag on the floor.

"Hey! Joe!" he says, smiling broadly. "You're here!"

The Cop smiles. "Hey, kid," he says. "You gonna work out with me? Chest day."

The Kid lights up. "Yes!" he says enthusiastically. "I mean, I gotta change." He starts to leave, then starts back, grabbing his bag, his energy is scattered, like a puppy.

"Relax, kid," says the Cop, pedaling. "I'm still warming up. Go change and get back out here." As the Kid starts again to go, the Cop says, "Hey," and the Kid turns back. "What are you wearing?"

The Kid shrugs. "I don't know. I've got a bunch of gym clothes in here." He smiles. "Can get kind of smelly."

The Cop motions to the bag with his head. "You got a singlet in there?"

The Kid shrugs shyly, looking down. He holds the gym bag between them. "Yeah," he says. "I think so."

"Wear it," says the Cop. "And a t-shirt like this." The Kid looks up to see the Cop pulling at his own baggy shirt. "If we're gonna be training partners," the Cop says, "I wanna look like partners."

The Kid comes back a few minutes later, dressed in a blue singlet -- to the Cop's red one -- and a baggy white tee. His legs look really good, the Cop thinks. And his ass is spectacular.

They go to the free weight area and stretch, neither saying much but for the Cop showing the Kid how to do something correctly. He takes many opportunities to touch the Kid, enjoying the way the Kid struggles with the contact, trying with difficulty to keep his cool. When they actually begin the workout -- flat-benching first -- the Cop straddles the Kid's head while he spots. The Kid doesn't go heavier than 225, but the Cop is impressed that the Kid gets that, and for six.

The Cop settles on the bench for a set with the Kid's 225. When the Kid moves into spotting position, the Cop almost laughs, but instead of saying anything, quickly grabs the bar and reps out twenty quick ones. He re-racks the weight.

"I guess you didn't much need me," the Kid says. "I wasn't much more than decoration."

The Cop says, "But nice decoration." He and the Kid lock eyes, a moment of understanding. They smile together, then the Kid looks down and away. On his next set, the Cop loads four plates on each side of the bar -- four hundred and five pounds -- and reps out five. The Kid is impressed. "That's what you'll do when you're as big as me," he says. "C'mon."

They move on to Hammer Strength Inclines. The Cop removes his shirt and lays it against the back of the seat, allowing the Kid to look at him in just his singlet, check out how his huge pecs spill out. Quick flex. Couple of bounces. He encourages the Kid to remove his shirt, too. "So you can see your chest working," he says. Finally, the Kid does, removing it like it's a game of strip poker, almost ready to say "no peeking."

He's nervous about the Cop's assessment, and the Cop senses this. Truth is, the Kid has a great body, lean and cut. His chest is kind of weak, but he makes up for it in shoulders and legs -- like most wrestlers. Of course, the Cop outweighs him by at least a hundred pounds, if not more. But the Kid is a tasty morsel, and the Cop is an over-baited hook. They dig into their workout. The Kid's probably never been this intense.

They finish a little over an hour later. The Cop has worked the Kid hard, and it shows. He's exhausted but pumped, little veins jumping up under his skin. The Cop escorts him back to the locker room, and starts to flex in the mirrors. Pose after pose, working the chest shots hard. The Kid just watches at first, until the Cop teases him into joining. The Kid has no experience posing at all, and the Cop takes this chance to show the Kid how, standing behind him and moving him into the correct positions, telling him how to flex this muscle group or that. Showing him when he has to.

He's showing the Kid a side-chest pose, the Kid literally eye level with his massive pec, when he abruptly says, "Look at that. Big, isn't it?" The Kid nods. "You wanna touch it?"

The Kid tries to resist -- excited but nervous -- but finally says, "Yeah," and looks to see if anyone's around -- of course no one is, not at this time of day -- then tentatively reaches up. He lays his fingers flat against the Cop's big chest, reaches under to take the mass of it in his hand, gingerly circles the nipple with his finger. The Kid is so shaky.

"You like that?" asks the Cop. "You like my big pec?"

The Kid is having trouble drawing breath. "Yeah," he sputters, focused on the mass of muscle.

"Why don't you suck it?" asks the Cop, and with his hand on the back of the Kid's head, pulls him into the bulk of his chest, until the Kid's lips barely touch his nipple. "I've never," says the Kid, but doesn't struggle to stop.

The Kid is tentative at first, tonguing a little and nibbling. "Nice," says the Cop. "Good boy. Take it." And with that, the Kid falls on it like a dying meal. The Cop moans. The Kid works the tit, chewing and suckling. "Yeah," he says, encouraging. "Yeah." He then leans into the Kid's ear, while the Kid draws, and says, in The Voice, "YOU MUST SUBMIT TO MUSCLE."

Though he never stops suckling, the Cop can feel the Kid's cock harden against his thigh, inside his little blue singlet. Gently, he presses his massive quad into the Kid's package, and soon, the Kid is eagerly humping his leg, while chewing the Cop's tit. "Yeah, kid, get off on me," says the Cop, as the Kid sucks, and rubs, and thrusts his hips. "Get off on my big muscles."

The Kid gasps just before he cums, and the Cop feels the orgasm against his leg, safetly contained in the Kid's singlet. The Kid collapses against him as he shoots, involuntarilly flexing once or twice more, thrusting. Then all at once, he raises his head, as if he's had an idea, and pushes himself away from the Cop's torso. He addresses the Cop matter-of-factly. "I must submit to muscle," he says.

"You heard the words," the Cop says, smiling. Damn, that was fast. It had taken the Cop three or four times before he'd heard the message of The Voice. Maybe because he'd been straight before the change. The Kid clearly had not been so limited.

He dreamily smiles in return. "Yeah," the Kid says. "I get it now. I must submit to muscle. I must." He slides down the Cop's body, until he's on his knees, hugging the Cop's thick leg as if holding the trunk of a tree. He wraps his arm around this redwood, holding the big hamstring -- right where the muscle meets the ass -- the other on the diamond bulk of calf. He runs his tongue along the cuts in the Cop's quads, up and down, skin to singlet.

The Cop likes being licked through the material. The Kid is between his legs then, happily taking his singlet-covered package in mouth, his arms around the Cop's legs, holding the Cop's huge ass. Trying to force the Cop into an erection. The Cop is having a hard time resisting. "Please," the Kid says, licking the outline of the Cop's big cock. "Please get hard. I must submit to muscle."

The Cop would like to, it would be so easy. He'd love to fuck this Kid hard and give the Kid that submission orgasm, that perpetual climax, that intense monster, but he gets a better reward for giving the Kid up.

He'll get fucked, himself.

He grabs the Kid by the back of the neck and pulls him to his feet. They look in each other's eyes. "I must submit to muscle," the Kid says, his eyes beginning to water. The Cop kisses him then, pulling the Kid in close, their two singlet-clad bodies pressing together as their tongues explore each other's mouths. The Cop holds the Kid's tight ass, until the Kid shifts his weight and the Cop's fingers slide into the Kid's crack. The Kid shamelessly rubs his hole against the Cop's hand. "Please fuck me," he says, a bitch in heat. "Please! I must submit!"

"Soon enough, kid," the Cop says. "I'm gonna take you now to the god you'll serve. Then you're submission will be complete."

They walk to the Cop's car. Arm and arm through the lobby, the Kid gazes adoringly at the Cop. The guy behind the desk watches the two of them leave, the massive hulk of the muscle man, and the smooth athletic graze of the kid, both in their colorful singlets, unashamadly together, and thinks, "Lucky little fucks. Why can't I meet a man like that?"

The Cop dials the Bodybuilder's number on his speed dial while he starts his car, while the Kid snuggles up in the crook of his arm. "Please hurry," the Kid moans. He massages the Cop's package to tease him, suckles the Cop's big exposed nipple.

The Bodybuilder answers his phone, and the Cop says, "I've got a recruit to bring you. He's heard the words. Yeah. I don't know." He addresses the Kid. "How old are you, kid?"

"Nineteen," the Kid mumbles, hard at work on the Cop's pec.

"Nineteen," the Cop says into the phone. "Wrestler/ gymnast type. Great ass. You'll like him. Yeah, I can be there in five minutes." He hangs up to the phone and kisses the Kid on the top of his head. "Here we go, boy. You're gonna love this."

They arrive at the Stable a few minutes later; the Kid almost has to be carried in the door, he's so weak from need. The Bodybuilder, dressed only in posing trunks, meets them in the main room. "What do you bring me?" he asks, his voice deep and melodious.

The Cop pushes the Kid forward. The Kid is in awe of the muscle god before him -- the Bodybuilder is easily a third again the size of the Cop -- he's a living, breathing god. The Kid takes a tentative step forward, then throws himself to the floor, kissing the Bodybuilder's feet.

"This is what I bring," says the Cop. "He needs to worship you. As I do."

The Kid looks up at the Bodybuilder, the mass towering over him. "I must submit to muscle," the Kid says.

"You've heard the words," says the Bodybuilder. "Then join us. Assume the position, as you know how."

The Kid rips the singlet from his body, anxious to be free of it. Naked, tight and ripped before the Bodybuilder, the Kid turns and bends over, exposing his hot little ass, spreading his cheeks for easier entrance. "Now, submit," says the Bodybuilder, as he lowers the front of his posing trunks, his thick, lengthy cock rolling forward, hardening quickly. The Cop finds himself drooling, jealous of the Kid. He simply leans against the wall and watches, grabbing his own package.

The Kid experiences the bliss as soon as the Bodybuilder is inside him. He moans and screams and starts shooting almost immediately, one powerful orgasm after the next. "Take it," said the Bodybuilder. "Submit to me."

The Kid rides it like a bronc, and it goes on forever. The Cop remembers losing track of time when he'd submitted to the Bodybuilder, but he's certain that he didn't last as long as the Kid. After a little over an hour of constant fucking, the Bodybuilder orgasms, putting his load deep into the Kid's ass. He grunts right before he shoots, the only way the Cop knows it's cumming. The Kid collapses in a puddle of his own jizz, spent and exhausted. The Cop knows from experience that he'll sleep for hours.

"Clean him up and put him to bed," the Bodybuilder commands. "Then come to my chambers for your reward. I'm very pleased." He smiles, putting his big cock back into his posers, then ambles away toward his suite.

The Cop does as he's told, quickly taking care of the Kid and nearly sprinting to the Bodybuilder, anxious for the fuck he's about to get. When he enters the Bodybuilder's chambers, the muscle god waits for him on his throne, casually spread-legged and pumped, primed. The lights come from above, highlighting the curves of the Bodybuilder's mass. The Cop is in awe, beholding perfection. "Enter," says the Bodybuilder. "Kneel and worship."

The Cop does, starting with the feet. Soon, he's of the same opinion as the Athete -- it IS better the second time around. Much better. ------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he awakens the next morning, still with the glow of orgasmic bliss, he stretches while lying on his bed, as the sun streams in across his body. He feels so good, after the Muscle God's fuck, without a care in the world.

A knock at the door. "Yeah," he says, and the door opens. The Kid.

Breathtaking. Spectacular. Still only five-six or so, but heavily muscled, graceful sleek cords running everywhere. He's athletic and smooth now, tan and ripped. His jaw is stronger, his eyes sparkle, his lashes seduce, but he still maintains a youthful innocence. He's naked, and his almost-too-big cock hangs proud. The Kid smiles broadly, seeing the Cop naked, too, but for the flimsy cotton sheet covering him. Even the Kid's teeth have benefitted, white and straight. "You're up," the Kid says, bouncing to the bed.

The Cop lifts the sheet. "C'mon in."

The Kid throws the sheet away and straddles the Cop as he lies there, sitting on the Cop's waist, one leg on either side of the Cop's wide, wide torso. The Kid puts his hands on the Cop's pecs and leans his weight against him. "Wanna see what I can do?" he asks.

"Sure," says the Cop, holding the Kid's waist.

The Kid leans down and tenderly kisses the Cop on the lips. They make out for a bit, the Kid sitting on top of the Cop, then he slides down the Cop's body, over the mass of the Cop's pecs, the strong block of the Cop's stomach, until he reaches the Cop's hardening cock. The Kid takes it into his mouth, expertly. Eagerly. He sucks it hard, until it's pointing straight up at the Cop's face.

"Nice," says the Cop, enjoying the attention.

"That's not what I've got to show you," says the Kid, pulling himself up til he's again straddling the Cop's waist. "This is."

He slides himself down on the Cop's big cock, taking it right inside his ass like it was nothing. He bounces up and down, fucking himself with the Cop's dick. The Cop moans. "Ready?" asks the Kid.

"Oh, yeah," says the Cop, luxuriating in this wonderful feeling. He's been wanting to fuck this Kid since he first saw him.

"Dig this," the Kid says, and begins squeezing his ass, constricting the hole around the Cop's cock, manipulating the muscle that gives the Cop pleasure. Stunning. The Kid's hole is alive around the Cop. The Cop can't help himself -- he shoots almost immediately.

"Holy shit," he says, but the Kid doesn't give up. He works the Cop's cock still, bringing it right back to erection. He manipulates a second load from the Cop, too. "Holy shit."

"Isn't that cool?" the Kid asks, laying down next to the Cop, cuddling up close.

The Cop wraps his arms around the Kid, settling his hand on the Kid's tight, hot ass. The Kid finds the Cop's nipple and begins to suckle. "Nice, kid." They stay that way awhile. "Are you happy, kid?"

The Kid raises his head from the Cop's pec. "Oh, yeah," he says. "Look at me! Look at my fuckin' body! And tell me you don't like my ass."

The Cop squeezes it. "Oh, I like your ass."


They kiss.

Later, the Cop has a client. He leaves the Kid in the Athlete's capable hands while he's gone, reminding them to post the Kid on the webpage, and get him started serving the Muscle God. The Athlete and the Kid both "yeah, yeah" him, but are obviously distracted by each other. When the Cop gets home two hours later, he follows the sounds of the Athlete moaning to find them, in the Athlete's room, fucking doggie style. "Holy shit," the Athlete's saying, over and over. "Holy shit."

Both look up at him as he enters the room, and they smile in unison. "Hey, this kid's tremendous," the Athlete says, thrusting a couple of times more. "He does tricks."

"Yeah," says the Cop. "I know."

"C'mere," pants the Kid, while the Athlete continues his barrage. "C'mere."

The Cop walks over to him, the Kid's face inches from his crotch. "What?" asks the Cop.

The Kid reaches his head up and opens the Cop's pants, unzips them with his clever lips, finds the Cop's growing cock, frees it from it's constraints, and takes it in his mouth. "He's fuckin' insatiable," the Athlete says, laughing. He and the Cop high-five over the Kid's back. •

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