Thor’s Training 1 – Admit It

I’m tall, and used to wear long hair down my back in a big braid. I lived at the gym. My friends called me Thor. I have a nice big, fat cock and know how to use it. I would fuck any hot boy that walked. They often ended up calling me ‘sir’, even though all the master/slave stuff didn’t interest me.

We all get older. We can’t work out all the time. The golden fur curled out from a treasure trail to cover my slightly beefier belly and my muscular chest and arms. My hair is short now and I sport a beard that tends to go gold and red in the summer.

The boys that ignored me in my glory days were waiting for me to get to my 40s. I have numbers for the hottest 20-somethings I could fuck any time I wanted. More often than not, now, I was looking for a date, a scotch and a good talk before I watned to use my skillful hands, mouth, body and cock to get some stud to give up his virgin “top” hole to my thick hungry dick.

My best friend these days is a tall, square-shouldered redhead from work named Rhonda. We traded stories of being dominant with men. She joked with me about my search for a long-term thing, telling me I was turning into a lesbian.

She’d been shacked up with some guy for a few weeks and I hadn’t seen her much. She asked me to meet her out at this place called the Watering Hole for a few drinks, maybe meet her new beau.

The place was a little trashier than I expected. I got some cheap Irish whiskey with lots of ice and leaned againts a wall in my shorts and Hawaiian shirt, watching the undersea ballet of beautiful young bodies grind against each other. Seemed like a tangle of straights and gays. Not too surprising South of Market.

The young made way for Rhonda. She was kind of a Norse queen. She joked the 2 of us were royalty. And you knew what happened to Norse heroes….

We hugged. She was looking radiant, sweaty, happy. We joked with each other. She asked me how my lesbian life was going. I told her to fuck off, but I was thinking about how long it’d been since I’d been the one who’d been swept off his feet. How my ass longed to get fucked even while my brain protested.

“Okay, so I’ve told Lan all about you,” Lan was her guy, apparently, “and he’s dying to meet you.” Her smile was big. That made me a little nervous for some reason.

Rhonda got me a larger glass of cheaper whisky. It was a little cloudy and had a bitter aftertaste. But even on my big body with all my resistance to liquor, it started making me warm and relaxed. I found myself subtly flexing for boys who were noticing me.

She brought Lan back with the third round of drinks. Mine a repeat of whatever strong, crappy whisky she’d gotten me. He was intensely hot. Maybe Italian, or Turkish. Not her usual type, which was mine too: thin, smooth, boyish. This was a *man*. He was little, maybe 5’9, but built. Big shoulders, big pex. A light dusting of dark hair on his arms. He was wearing a black UnderArmor compression top and he looked like a gladiator with his hawk nose, his crop of black beard stubble. He was wearing chinos that showed a big bubble butt and a big package pushed out the front.

I realized Rhonda and Lan had been talking. I felt kind of out of it. I had a huge grin plastered on my face.

“I guess you like him, huh, ‘Thor’?” Rhonda joked at me. She reached over and slapped my dick in my linen shorts. I hadn’t realized I’d gotten hard and was poking out obscenely. At 45, I didn’t really just get spontaneously hard anymore.

“Ya, hey, Lan. Nice to meet you, man.” I stuck my hand out across the table. I was weirdly unembarrased. Not that I got embarrased too often anyway, but with my fat dick tenting my shorts….

He took my hand in that power grip dudes do to power trip other men. He had big hands for a little guy, turning my slightly bigger hand under. My dick throbbed.

“Lan and I have had a really great time, haven’t we Lan?” she smacked his ass hard enough I knew he liked it, and that he wasn’t wearing any underwear – maybe a jockstrap. I could feel my cock splurt onto my linen shorts, getting them wet. Why did I feel 19 again?

“And, ‘Thor’, I told him all about you, and everything you and I have talked about,” she went on, stroking his ass. Was Rhonda offering me her boyfriend to fuck? She knew I wasn’t into the ladies….

“I think he needs a hug, Lan,” she said, stepping back.

He moved around the table and slowly laced his arms around my middle, pressing the big bulk of his little muscle body against my much bigger body. He flexed his massive six-pack against my cock. He was sweating through the UA top and it felt good against me. I sighed and rested my arms around his shoulders. He moaned into my chest hair and then turned his head and squeezed like little guys always do, across my floating ribs. I flexed my abs so I could take the deadly cobra squeeze. It hurt like hell, but my dick jumped against him, squirting precum through my linen shorts onto his already-wet shirt. He’d been dancing.
I kissed the top of his head the way the boys like. He eased up on the squeeze and moved both hands to my big muscle ass and squeezed hard, digging in. I groaned involuntarily.

It was a little while later. I’d lost some time. Rhonda and I were sitting on the couches at the back of the club, screened by a bunch of 8mm strips of celluloid as curtains.

Rhonda was holding the sides of my face. It was intimate, but not sexual.

“You’re so big, David,” she said, using my name. “I wasn’t sure how much to give you, are you okay?”

I felt soft, open, happier than I’d been in years. I’d leaked so much precum my shorts were slick with it all the way down to my ass. I was swimmy and happy. I nodded.

“I know you have trouble letting go. We are so close, I wanted to give you what you wanted. I wanted to make you happy, becuase your advice and your friendship has meant so much to me.”

I nodded, smiling big, wanting to kiss her on the cheek. To hug her. To have a cock up my ass.

“Tell me the real truth, David. Do you really want to let go? Do you really want to feel the other side of that dominant energy you’ve held for so many men over the years to make them happy? Are you really interested in letting go and having a beautiful man take charge of you? David, I really want to know the truth.”

The truth had been slowly busting its way out of me. The truth had been building for 20 years, since I became dominant because so many dudes saw my size and my strength and my strong personality and wanted me to tie them up, fuck them, dominate them, be in charge of their hot little holes.

In a huge flash I saw how I’d really been a kind of submissive the whole time, changing myself to make other men happy.

I looked into her green eyes. She was a queen. But I was no king. I was a hero, maybe. I was a servant, not a ruler. “Oh, my god, Rhonda, for that guy? For Lan, God, yes.” I waited a moment, and the begging came out of me, “Please. Will you let him have me?”

I was horrified at myself in the background. I’d stuck my fat cock in so many beggin boys. And this sounded just like them. I’d always kind of been disgusted by their weakness and turned on by how I was strong… but I was weak. That exact same way. Dominating them all while not being dominant myself made me that way.

Rhonda pulled on my beard. It hurt a little. “David, really? Do you want him to have you? Lan and I figured out that’s what he needs. To be with a man he can own.”

I nodded. I reached up with my big hands and pulled her strong, smooth hands away.

“It’s what I’ve always wanted.” I was harder than I’d ever been. And content while I freaked out. My ass clenched and unclenched. Maybe now I’d finally have a reason to own all those butt plugs I’d bought and never used.

She nodded. Satisfied.

Thor’s Training 6 – Outing

I’d been floating in a heightened state of relaxation and awareness since my Training Night with Lan.

Everything was the same: I cooked, I worked, I worked out, I read, I jogged with a friend.

Everything was different: I cooked the food that was perfect for the body that Lan had put into my head. I worked out to get the shape and the bulk and the definition that Lan had instilled in me. I had intense sexual feelings toward the men around me at the gym, but there was no need in it, just pleasure that ran everywhere in me without borders. I … and I couldn’t believe I thought this word without freaking out about it, but I belonged to Lan. My ass, my cock, my balls, my body, everything that I was was included in him somehow, and so… everything was amazing. There was nothing to do but what I was doing. There was no boy going to give me sex or pleasure even in the region to what thinking about Lan gave me, so all the hunting and scanning and wanting and planning and work I had done for years and years to get sex with men was gone. And god damn had that taken up a lot of space!

I got comments at work asking if I had gotten a coach, or management training, or…a personal trainer. I just laughed and smiled slyly, “I’m not sure that’s work-appropriate!”

I had to buy new pants and new shirts for work for different reasons. My pants were starting to look like I got them from a larger brother, and my shirts were starting to look like they were gonna burst across the chest and were an empty tent around my middle. I was so happy with how I looked, that I just relaxed into it. I was so happy with how I felt that I could feel it. My body was humming and clean and energetic and I loved the touch of my belt across my thinner waist, the hug of my shirts across my shoulders. It made me smile a dozen times a day.

I met Rhonda at the Village restaurant – an old gay haunt on the west side. She got there early as always, and waved as I made my way between the rows of queens and boy toys that spotted the booths. I was smiling my huge, infectious, bearded smile, and Rhonda grinned back. She stood up before I got to the table, holding her hand out like Donna Summers. I stopped and cocked my head at her. She made a turn-around twirl with her fingers, and I laughed and turned slowly around.

“Well. Coming and going,” she smiled looking around around my waist at my ass. I laughed out loud, but for the first time in my life felt a little stirring of sexual excitement at a woman’s attention. Interesting.

We embraced and the sexual excitement drained out of me.

Over my salad and her steak, or role-reversal meal as she called it, she looked pointedly at the little brass lock nestled among the chest hair of my open work shirt above the definitely-squarer and fuller mounds of my pecs. “So… this seems to be going well.”

I actually blushed and I felt a warmth in my asshole that made my balls churn and my mouth water as my mind filled with an image of Lan’s long, veiny, hooded dick. It took Rhonda 2 minutes to stop laughing – at and with me.

My hot embarrassment and her laughing and my feeling like Lan was all around me and inside me had me squirming in my chair to make a space in my tight slacks for my hard dick. Fuck, was I turning into a faggot. And loving every minute of it.

She caught me up on her boy toys and I found myself sharing my being conquered with a gusto I’d never had talking about boys I’d used. Even my lowered tone didn’t keep nearby tables from going quiet to hear more of our sex conversations. God, I love queers.

“I hear you’re going out tonight,” she said , sipping the last of her wine as I polished off my sparkling water. My heart enlarged a size and my dick jumped in my jock (yes, Lan had me wearing a jock under my slacks, and I fucking loved it, the smooth slacks rubbing against the fur of my big muscular bubble butt).

I gulped, “I bought … a thong?” Which only made my dick throb trapped in my pants and Rhonda smile like it was Christmas.


I stopped at the barber shop across the street from the bar whose card Lan had left for me. I looked at myself under the streetlight: ripped jeans, a t-shirt 2 sizes too small, which rode up over the dark blond hair on my belly if I raised my arms. My neck felt weird without the chain with the lock, but Lan had left the key and told me to unlock myself before coming tonight. I was horny and uncomfortable. Not knowing what was going on was harassing the buzz I’d been cruising since Lan helped me with that massage night weeks ago.

I cruised myself: the outside changes that Lan had brought into my life… had it been 3 months now? I’d dropped almost 15 pounds. My biceps swole in the indecently tight white t. My ass looked huge in the tight jeans with my smaller waist and the big swells of my quads. Lan was of course right, I looked amazing. I still had a bodybuilder’s round swell of belly below my square pecs and hulked shoulders, but I was firmly in the “anyone would fuck me” category. Wow, I thought of myself as a bottom now. That was new. My dick lurched visibly in my pants.

I imagined I could feel the cum he’d left inside me last night after a short massage and a hard, intense fuck where he pinned me down so strongly, I didn’t have any way to work my cock or get close to orgasm, as the brutal pressure on my prostate killed my boner even as I nearly passed out with pleasure at the pressure. After he’d fucked that load into me, he laid inside me, still mostly hard, for a while, and I loved the feeling of him pushing me into the mattress, of the fullness inside that was what made me really happy. He slapped my ass hard and told me to not jerk off, and be a good boy until tomorrow night. That he wanted me “fresh” when he met me out. He made out with me like a whore while he put my underwear back onto me like a boy. It was weird and I was hard the whole time – and normally I went soft immediately after sex, whether I came or not.

“Damn, daddy,” the man’s gay voice broke me out of my reverie.

He was maybe 22, a chin-hugging beard, skinny, big shoulders. He was staring at my bulging package. I smiled at him. I was old enough to be his father. “Sup, man? But I’m definitely not a daddy.”

He stepped closer, pawing me with his eyes. He ran his hands down his washboard abs and rested them on his ass, “But you could be,” his lips were boy red between the black hairs of his beard. He was tan, but unfreckled – Italian, maybe. I could imagine the fur around his asshole matched his beard, probably making a trail up toward his lower back, but not escaping between his luscious, round butt cheeks.

I stretched my big arms upward, exposing my furry belly to his eyes, and pulling my pants to bunch up around my big package. His eyes lasered in on my crotch, my beard, my big shoulder muscles bunching. I was walking across the street by the time he got back to looking down, and all he got were my big, rock-hard ass cheeks flexing in my tight tight jeans.

Weakly, I heard, “…or whatever?” from the poor, horny boy. I was so happy in that moment.


Lan was sitting at the bar in his thick jeans, the crotch worn pale in the middle of all that blue and the lack of his leather riding chaps and his olive flesh, pulling my gaze like a magnet. He had on a black form-fitting t-shirt, his triceps bulged obscenely out of the rolled-up sleeves. His clean-shaven jaw cut through me, his slightly sweaty skin. All I could think of was him near me, in me, around me. There were 3 twinks in spandex and collars hovering nearby, ignored; I at least got now why they would linger near real men and wait.

Lan was talking to a couple of hairy daddies in leather vests with their bellies hanging out over their leather pants. That type had always grossed me out before, but tonight, as I stood there looking at their big chests, and the hairy swell of their bellies, their easy nature, I felt an aura come off them that pulled me toward them, made me want to be near. Not like the black hole that was Lan, but a pull that was new.

“There’s my boy Thor!” Lan graveled through the crowd. The two daddies turned and fixed me with hungry gazes, and I felt a little weak in my belly. Me, who towered over them, and could probably pick both of them up with my giant ass legs and strong shoulders….I felt small and my big hamstrings felt watery. Something about Lan’s words had my head swimming; I felt myself getting dumber, like the lights turning down in my head. I felt my dick swell in my jeans again.

The words that are always in my head were nowhere to be found, just a huge comforting emptiness, I walked toward Lan, pushing guys big and little out of the way. “Yes, sir,” I growled back, my eyes locking on Lan’s. His hazel eyes seemed as big as the room; I was walking toward him, I was falling toward him, falling into him. By the time I got to him, my ass was warm, and I felt a little unsteady on my feet. I wanted to drop to my knees and open my mouth, but some command of Lan’s also held me up. I felt like a fucking faggot. I was his fucking faggot. I loved being a fucking faggot. I was muttering this to myself in my mind. These were my words now.

“There’s my good boy!” Lan said, his deep voice cutting through the noise. My ass clenched and relaxed, clenched and relaxed, and I could feel the coconut oil he had had me work up inside me smooth and hot. My hands went behind my back, and I spread my legs, like a military parade rest. I’d never been military, and I had no interest in the uniforms and all that. But all I needed was the camos to be a good, mindless soldier.

Lan was chatting with the two daddies, whose eyes were raking over my body, and I saw one of them rubbing his fingers together, and I could almost feel his thick fingers on my big, firm ass. He stepped off his stool and moved toward me, “I wouldn’t, if I were you, Dan,” Lan warned. And I knew if that man put his hands on me, I would do something bad – because of how much I wanted it?

He got close to me, and leaned up on his tip-toes, breathing a frothy beer breath on my ear that excited and repulsed me. “You want daddy to feel you up, don’t you, boy?” I bet he could see my face muscles bulge as I clenched and unclenched my jaw.

I looked at Lan, deep in his eyes, he was taking me in. He was the only man in the room. He was inside me; I was inside him.

“If you touch me without his permission I’ll break your arm,” I said quietly and without malice.

I could see out of the corner of my eye the man’s eyes go wide and he took a quick step back, looking at Lan. Lan’s chuckle made my balls churn, “I told you,” he said to this big leather daddy.

Lan and the other bearded leather man laughed, and the one who had breathed on me thought for a long, hot second about slapping me on the ass. My big fists clenched, and I breathed a deep breath in, swelling my hard round belly, and my big pecs in the way too tight t. The man sighed against my shoulder and ambled back to his seat. The twinks were staring at me, not sure what to think.

“My good BOY, Thor,” Lan said, and another wave of sexual emptiness washed over me, a black pleasure that emptied me out and got me rock fucking hard in my pants. I sighed and my back straightened; I knew exactly who I was.

He said something to me that slipped out of my head immediately. I had walked over and was standing behind him, back in parade rest. I was directly behind him where he sat up on his high chair, watching the two daddies argue about something nerdy.

I could feel the twinks step closer in behind me, but keeping a distance. One of them was standing in Lan’s eyeline, licking his lips, the little slut. But what did I care? I was standing behind Lan, I was hard as a fucking rock. Lan signaled me with one of his thick fingers and I leaned down. He whispered to me, and I drifted into bliss at his voice and his hand stroking my beard. I think I whimpered a couple times, and I could feel some men in the back part of the bar staring at my ass as it was cleft in half by the extremely tight jeans.

My head was swimming. I was so aroused, I was a little bit afraid I was gonna pass the fuck out. Lan stopped stroking my beard and there was a command in my head. I stood up, I crossed my arms. The veins in my neck were bulging, I’m sure I was red in the face. I was flexing my pecs and my glutes and my biceps like a king. I glared at the twinks. I was acting on command. I was acting on autopilot. I was doing what another man wanted. That made my dick harder and harder and harder. Lan turned and looked at me, brushing his big shoulder over my crotch; I almost moaned like a bitch in heat. Then he looked away at the leather daddies who were boring their gazes into my flesh again.

Lan’s big hand moved behind him and its hot bulk settled directly on my cock where it was sitting sideways in my jeans, barely able to stretch out to its fat length. I’m not sure, because I’ve never leaked precum before ever, but my junk felt wet. The extremely light pressure of his hand had me on edge. If I was the man I had been, I would have pulled my cock out and fucked his hand and cum in his hair and laughed and left.

But I was a fucking faggot now. I was his faggot. So I stood stock still, flexing, my breath fast, needing to cum more in this moment than I ever had in my entire life and doing absolutely nothing about that. Happier than I’d ever been in my entire life, content with whatever this man decided. Not pretending, not playing, not resigned, but genuinely happy.

“…fuck off, Lan. You can not,” Dan the Leather Dad said. Lan chuckled, “Let’s make it interesting,” he said, leaning back against my hard on. I kept my stance. It took everything that was left of me not to fuck myself to completion on his palm through my jock and jeans.

“You pay him a hundred dollars each if I can get him to cum on command with all his clothes on,” Lan growled at the two men. I nearly came in my pants him just saying it.

“Okay…” said Dan, grinning, and punching the bigger-bearded and bigger-bellied daddy beside him, who grabbed his admittedly-large package, “but if you can’t within… 60 seconds, he sucks both of our dicks.”

“Are you okay with that, Thor?” Lan growled without looking, his hand pressing on my cock.

“Yes, sir!” I said without thinking, some deeper conditioning in my brain kicking in. I was buzzing, I would do anything for the man with his hand on my cock. I would do anything for the man that was in my head.

“So, Thor, you would suck these men’s cocks like a GOOD BOY if your SIR can’t make you cum?”

“Yes, SIR, I will suck their dicks like a champ if I fail you!” I said way too loudly.

“Good BOY. Now, LET GO,” Lan said turning to stare into my eyes. His pupils were dark wells, and I fell in.

The world faded out. Lan’s hand on my crotch was like a burning poker in the best possible way. I felt the sweaty coconut oil in my ass being pressed by the tight jeans.

I leaned in even closer toward him. He was rubbing my dick languidly in my jeans. I was nowhere. I was right there. I couldn’t take it anymore. My balls were pulled up into my abdomen. My breathing was shallow and strange, rising and falling with his words, like my pleasure. I had never given a fuck about what people thought, but being stroked off in a bar was a new experience. I didn’t care about that either.

Lan was talking and I was lost in the waves of pleasure rocking through my body. I was almost falling over, and it was only his palm gently rocking across the length of my cock that kept me up. That and knowing he wanted me to stay up. Time stretched out. I would have stood forever in this bar with this man touching my cock. I would do anything for him. I would give anything.

I stood in response to his command, hands balled into fists at my side now, straining, red, not breathing.

I saw Lan turn and smile at the daddies. He slid his hand what felt like the mile length of my cock from the base of my groin to the tip and as he scraped the sensitive unsheathed head with his heavy palm, he said casually, “Obey, CUM NOW.”

I convulsed. I almost passed out. I grabbed the bar, I turned purple.

I came.

Only the tension held me up.

I could feel my cum in massive splatters soak the jeans and begin running down the inside of my leg, pushing through the thin fabrics over my dick and running down the outside of the jeans as it poured and poured out of me.

I heard the twinks gasp.

“Stand guard, Thor,” Lan said, letting go of me.

I snapped into parade rest. I was shaking. I was still having small convulsions of cum pushing out of my dick. I took a deep breath, very very quietly. Cum dripped audibly onto the floor.

“Fuck, Lan,” Dan said, “I need one.” He nodded at me as I ignored him, so wrapped in bliss I didn’t even know where I was.

Thor’s Training 5 – Massage

“We are going to help you get better,” he said as I licked my own cum off my lips and savored the slick salt rolling around my mouth. My body was humming and I could feel the bath water still drying on the fur on my chest. He led me to the bed, where he’d laid a big, red blanket I didn’t recognize. God, I wanted him inside me – even though I’d just cum. Especially because I’d just cum? Damnit!

I knelt down on the blanket, but he had me slide all the way down, lying flat, arms out to the sides. He was wearing his leather riding pants, open at the crotch with his fat balls and huge cock hanging out; it was plump and semi hard, the pale foreskin just covering the head with a buildup of some pre-cum. There were two pump bottles of massage oil on the side table.

There was an audible snap as he pulled on latex gloves. A thrill of apprehension ran through my relaxed brain. My cock jumped underneath me. What was this now?

He pumped a few strokes of liquid out of the darker brown bottle, the oil smearing the gloves a deeper blue. I didn’t really like massage. They always ended up pulling my body hair, hurting me and not pressing enough into my muscles to get me really relaxed.

Lan’s firm hands started simple, and on the best place: my legs. My hamstrings are fucking mountains of muscle, and he rubbed the sweet-smelling oil firmly into those big bulges with long, slow, strokes. His hands left warm streaks on my skin, and the warmth seemed to slowly be sinking into me as he continued to slowly stroke and knead my legs. My brain became more and more and more focused on his hands in their gloves. As he moved onto my ass, I found that even the craving in my hole that Lan had literally bred into me was not there.

Everything felt warm and open and I felt so fundamentally good, I had stopped thinking about thrusting my hips up to encourage Lan to touch my hole. His warm legs against me, his breath on me occasionally were heaven. My cock was plumped underneath me but not hard. My balls hung super low. I’d never been more relaxed than this in my life.

Lan was working on my big, beefy glutes now. It felt so good I realized I was moaning low and steady. His hands kneaded, pushing harder and deeper into the muscle, irresistable. They were all warm and the warmth was spreading like icy hot. The warmth was working its way into places in my butt that’d been tight for years, even as Lan’s voice wormed deeper and deeper into my mind. Always before I had a sense of following his words and kind of keeping watch, but the watcher inside me had dissolved already, and I was forgetting and giving in…. Warm tendrils relaxed my pink asshole, making me realize how often I walked around clenching my butt like that was my defense against… something….

Lan’s voice was running through me, the cadence rising and falling like breath. I was hard again, but didn’t need to do anything about it, I just enjoyed the hardness under me, the basic pleasure of being a man.

I was going to learn that I had absolutely no understanding of the pleasures of being a man.

I drifted, warm, safe, empty, happy, hard, there were hot towels sluicing me off and Lan’s voice asking me questions to which I moaned answers. The questions and the answers melted away like snow in California. I knew my secrets were slipping out of me, I knew I was laying bare the real self that my macho swagger had hidden all my life.

There was a new smell – lavender – and Lan was stroking from my now-relaxed glutes up my back with some new oil. I could feel the callouses on his hands, so the gloves were off . All pleasures were equal now: his weight on my legs, his hands on me, the log of his cock pushing my ass cheeks apart as it sawed back and forth with his movements.

My legs and ass were a warm throb of intense relaxation. The oil on my back was warm and cool together. I felt like I was part of the mattress, part of Lan, like ‘Thor’ was expanding…maybe dissolving….

I didn’t even quite realize it when the beautiful heart-shaped flange of Lan’s cock head slipped past the throbbing lips of my ass so it was inside me. It was the best fullness there ever was. Gently pushing and sliding. My exhales now were just a long, slow groan of pleasure. I was clueless why I had shied away from this exquisite pleasure my whole fucking life.

But that thought didn’t, couldn’t last long. My attention came back inside of me as Lan had almost without me noticing worked his whole hard thick length deep. His short, muscular arms were wrapped around my thick body. One of his hands was rolling one of my big pink nipples between his rough fingers, making a kind of white lightning inside me running from my nipples to my cock, my balls, up into my hole and back to his fingers. Maybe he told me that’s what it was doing. I didn’t care. There was no difference between what he said and did and what I felt.

My whole body was lit up from within as he crushed me in his embrace and as my big butt muscles relaxed, he had more throbbing length of fat cock to work deeper into me. I moaned like a whore.

I was empty, and he was filling me and emptying me both. Making more space deep, deep inside me, burrowing pleasure into me in ways I’d never even imagined were possible. Making me aware that my idea of myself – the macho, big dick-swinging man I had been – was made up.

I realized all those boys I had used my cock to make happy, they weren’t serving me giving up their asses, taking my cum deep inside them, I was pleasing them, serving them, with my mouth, hands, tongue and cock. I realized I was a pleaser, a giver, a servant, even when I was pretending to be in charge. I felt how Lan was creating pleasure between us but without it being in service of me. His goal was not to make me cum, or make me happy. His goal was to empty me out with pleasure, to scour away the false remnants of who I was.

He was a god converting me to his true religion.

His cock was my whole world now, his hard grip the bounds of my reality. He had one paw on my throat, squeezing, narrowing my breath, making the blood thud in my head. My hands trembled and let go of the sheets, relaxing and relaxing.

I was thinking only of Lan. I felt like I could feel his body, feel his insides. I felt what it was like for him to have his cock inside me, how much pleasure he took from me letting go to him, how it engorged his dick. I could feel the rhythms he setup in my muscles with his stroking and clenching and thrusting, and how pleased he was with my submission.

I could feel how he was moving his cock slow in my ass so that he could feel my hole clutching and unclutching. Every time I let go more he groaned with me, and got harder, and more excited, stretching my hole more and more and more, compressing my prostate more and harder. My cock had at some point gone soft underneath me.

I was full. I had no wants… I had no volition. i could not have chosen to do anything even if I had wanted to. I was becoming a vessel for this man. I wanted nothing but what he wanted; I wanted nothing for myself, only pleasure for him to use me – fucking me if that was his pleasure. For the first time I understood my pleasure would be him fully enjoying me and emptying himself into me. I was a space carved for his pleasure – it was only this incredible opening and opening and giving up to him that brought him to the peak of ecstasy.

Everything about me was open and relaxed and there was only a baseline drone of intense pleasure. I was his pleasure, I was pleasure embodied without need. I could feel that my soft cock and big balls were wet and sticky as Lan’s strong butt muscles clenched to thrust his cock all the way inside me and then pull out, groaning, and push it back in.

I, who’d never pre-cum before, had not orgasmed , but my balls had drained fully out of my cock, soaking the bedspread and coating my package in my thick goop, unnoticed while it happened. It wasn’t a thin, slick liquid like I’d seen leak out of boys as I used my cock to pleasure their prostates, this was creamy, thick, cum – and a fucking bucket of it.

Lan’s big paws were on my fuzzy back, crushing me into he bed, and I loved it. Gravities of weight were welcome, and my big body felt released by them, freed by Lan’s intensity on me. There was a slap-slap-SLAP-thud-SLAP-slapslapSLAP of Lan taking his pleasure with his cock deep inside me, smacking his beefy thighs into my hamstrings, driving his cock deep into me. The impacts brought an intense pleasure, and I wondered idly if it would please him to spank my ass later, because I thought I would love it.

I was not my body. I was the cumsoaked bed and the sweat in the air. I was Lan’s groans, and his heavy rhythms pounding my hot ass lips. I was the cum boiling in his balls. I was my hole aching from his thrusting and needing his soothing seed. I was a lack of self needing definition from his weight and holding and how his cumming deeply inside me would free me to be no one, nothing, to be pleasure. I was the smell of mansex with nothing held back, I was Lan’s hot sweat falling onto my furry ass, and the scent of leather and sweat from him filling me.

Then he exploded into me, and I disappeared. I was nothing but pure floating happiness, given the space to be empty and nothing and everything.

I was full of his cum, and his cock, still hard, was deep inside me. He was heavy softness, lying on top of me. I was cooling sweat.

I was wholly owned by Lan now.

Now everything had changed.

I was the happiest man on earth.

Thor’s Training 4 – the Tub

The days piled on with Lan.

I was in my right mind. I kept telling myself that. I texted on and off with Rhonda. There was a smirk and a concern in equal parts in her messages. She offered to meet for drinks, but I had to tell her I was staying away from the bar. “Oh, Lan’s on a campaign to get rid of your belly, huh? Good for you, you fat fuck,” and I laughed and shook my head as I read the text. I got hard as I remembered Lan’s beautiful cock slapping my belly from the side. “I want it hard like I am. Do you want that?”
He never let my dick get near his ass. I agreed that was for the best, staring at the floor, getting hard.

Was I in my right mind? How did I get here? I was going to the gym for this man. I was making food for this man. I wasn’t drinking. I was wearing a discrete lock around my neck with his name for me, Thor. I was staying away from the bar. I’d met Rhonda for a big salad lunch today. She looked me up and down like she always did, smirking at the old kilt that I had lost 15 pounds to get into. “About time we got you kilted up again!” and then her breasts were against my pecs, which I could feel were bigger – not her, Rhonda had always been blessed, but a man’s blessing depended on his effort.

I did my job. Better than usual. Dudes checked me out on the train. I smiled, and just looked down knowing those pups would never, ever give me what Lan was giving me.

He’d been out of town. I thought of him ferociously. I felt like I needed a mental version of a no-lick dog cone.

He was coming tonight.

I hit the gym with a fucking vengeance. I was that red-faced guy in a rugby jersey doing squats til he shook and his neck bulged with veins. The pained yells letting the weights crash on the rack were real. I was that older guy who ignored your pretty ass as you did bent over rows, and his jock bulged as he did skull crushers set after set.

I chafed at the woman smell of lavender in the bath salts Lan had bought for me. But the thought of Lan and the fact he’d bought me a big box of salt to soothe my tired muscles made my dick twitch and my hole feel warm – which frankly still annoyed me on some distant level. But fuck levels, and fuck me, and oh, God, I wanted him to fuck me before I forgot how fucking good it was, and I didn’t want anyone to find out that I couldn’t get enough of this little dude’s huge dick up my ass.

And I was hard. And not touching myself. My fat pink dickhead poking up above the water, telling me like it usually did that I was a viking and I should take what I want. And the feeling in my smaller belly was that I was taken now and needed to be good to get the real pleasure I deserved.

Lan’s shadow fell across me. I’d left the door open for him. I was soaking as instructed. The water had gone from scalding to just warm. The water on my face was half sweat.

“Good boy,” he gravelled warmly in my tiled bathroom. My balls twisted in their sack. My hole opened and closed, opened and closed. My dick drooled slime across the surface of the water. I hadn’t gotten off in days. As per instruction. I told myself I liked what it got me, that I was choosing it. I wasn’t sure I really believed myself.

“Stand for me,” his accent was thick in my ears, buzzing in my head already. I wanted him to take me.

I stood, dripping, my fur plastered to my chest, belly, arms, legs. My cock pointed at him like an exclamation. I was proud of my cock, and part of me was embarrassed how this man being in charge of me made me hard.

His gaze was a hot thing all over me. I stared at the tile floor, smelled lavender, smelled the leather sweat smell of Lan in his riding jacket.

He ran a warm finger from my shoulder blades down my lats. I shivered, and precum started drooling off my cock. His finger traced the curves of my ass which I knew were tighter. My balls pulled tight as his finger slipped between my ass muscles. He stroked my tight pink anus, teasing it. He chuckled as I groaned lightly and my hole kissed his finger.

He dropped the towel he’d used to dry my body. “Lean over the tub now,” and I heard the clank of his belt coming undone. I was imagining the obscene bulge in his pants as I knelt down for this man, bending over so my furry, pale ass cheeks parted and my pink hole winked in the light.

His finger worked something warm onto the sensitive flesh of my hole. I moaned, and my cock thumped against the tub. I moved to grind my dick against the porcelain. “No,” he said, low and kind. I obeyed, stopping.

The warmth increased, and he slipped one of this thick fingers inside of me, working the warmth deeper into me. As he started to caress my prostate, I groaned louder, fingers going white on the edge of the tub.

“You’re making me happy, good boy” he growled, his finger pressing harder into me, deeper inside me. That made my heart warm the way my ass did, and my thoughts of ever not wanting this slipped farther away.

“You’re going deeper for me, as I go deeper into you,” his voice took on its hypnotic cadence. My muscles were relaxing. My cock was hardening. Part of me was slipping away.

“The deeper you let me in, the deeper you go, the more you let go, the more PLEASURE,” and he pushed hard along the length of my swollen prostate, “you get.” I moaned like a bitch.

My head dropped against the warm tub, my hands opened, fingers twitching.

“Deeper and deeper,” he said, stroking rhythmically inside me along with his voice. The warm was spreading over my balls, my lower belly, my cock.

“Letting go to me more and more, more and more,” I moaned, my nipples were hard. The soft rhythm made the chain around my neck clank in sympathy. My brain was going fuzzy with pleasure, and giving in.

The rhythm picked up. I could feel the heat of his cock near my ass, I could smell his funk. I wanted… I wanted anything, everything. Nothing.

Each word now was punctuated with his two fat fingers moving deep into my hole, hot, crushing my prostate. “When. You. Let. Go. Completely. Give. In. Completely. Empty. Out. You… Will… CUM.”

And everything went out of me, a long moan, my cum hitting the tub in 8 fast splats, dripping to the floor. His fingers came out of me. I groaned a long breath.

My cock was warm and stayed hard, which was unusual, as I usually shrank down right away.

“Lap up that cum for me now,” and the way he said it moved through me without resistance. I licked my own huge load off the tub, off the floor. It made me want to swallow his cum, to suck it out of him for hours – me who had never let a dude cum even on my face before.

Thor’s Training 3 – In Bed

I had a hazy memory of getting into the passenger side of my Barracuda, the old bucket seat harder than my driver seat. I felt my shirtless back, sweaty in the cold air, stick to the leather.

I handed Lan my wallet. He asked me if I still lived where my license said. I nodded. God, my car was awesome. 424 engine with the raised inflow in the hood. Fresh smell of Armorall. I was so relaxed.

We drove for a while and the city bled by. Why didn’t I go shirtless anymore? Was it fear? I loved the cool air ruffling my chest and belly hair.

“Good boy. So happy to be naked in any way. Proud to show off all that fur,” Lan growled, like he was reading my mind. There was a musk rising off Lan that made the arteries in my neck pulse.

It felt so good to have someone else drive. Like I’d always wanted this. I put my big hand out the window and played with the wind as the pure sex rumble of the Cuda’s engine rumbled in my ass, making my cock start to climb in my pants again. It felt good. There was no shame, I didn’t wonder who was looking or not looking.

We were at my house. Lan was opening the door, talking on the phone. “Yes, it’s going very well, Miss R. We are at his home. You are welcome to chaperone if you have any concern,” Lan’s accent seemed thicker. I liked it. I stood in my living room. My house smelled a little like Cinnamon. It didn’t look like a man lived here. I’d slowly replaced all my shit with something from catalogs.

Lan’s hand was on my ass. I was standing tall, and I realized he had to go up on his toes to reach my ear. “You still want to be my Thor, to belong to me?” His small heavy hand felt like a warm anchor to life where it touched my big butt muscles.

I just nodded, smiling as the blood rushed to my cock and I became aware of my skin.

Lan brushed fingers across my left nipple. It had stood up, hard as a nail. My nipples are pink and about an inch and a half across, looking big even on my large frame. “Good boy,” he said and there was something about that word, boy that sent a dark thrill from his warm hand stroking my asshole through my pants, to my nuts, my cock, up through my belly, and into my heart where it blossomed.

“Think you can clean yourself?” he asked.

I nodded again. I smelled. If He wanted me clean, I’d be Mr. fucking Clean.

“Good. Go, boy,” the shiver of his voice tickling the back of my brain.

I smelled like soap. My taint smelled like soap. I kept checking, rubbing my finger down below my balls and smelling it. It smelled a little bit like me, still. I was laying on top of the sheets, warm everywhere. There was a candle on the chest at the foot of my bed, and a shadow that smelled like mansweat on my right side.

“Look into the candle,” Lan said. I was staring at the flame, but I wanted to be looking at him.

I was clean, he was dirty.

“Stop worrying about your cunt,” he growled. I bristled down inside my warm cocoon. “Yess, that’s right,” he hissed, seeing me tense. “Take all that you have left and pour it into the fire. Pour all that heat from having to be so in charge, so separate, when all you’ve ever wanted was to be a puppy to a real man…”

My heart was hot. I was glaring into the candle. As he talked, all the rage inside me, all the ways I had used boys because they demanded that I be in charge and i resented them poured through me. I expected the candle to flare up. It just burned there, steady.

“Good! Letting it all go,” he purred as the mansweat smell settled around me. He was kneeling behind my head, and i could feel the long snake of his cock unfurling against my hair, my beard. God I wanted to suck it. The heat pouring out of me starting slowly being replaced by desire, like an old pipe running clean.

He was working on my nipples, I realized. Stroking and tugging – alternating between the two. There was a deep sound in the room. I wanted to look for it, but the candle had snared me. I was melting down into the heat of his thick fingers as they started to grind my nipples slowly between them.

“Good boy,” Lan said. My cock was bouncing against my belly up and down with my heartbeat.

“Yes, and remember, every time I say good boy,” and heat shot from my nuts and ass through my cock as it jumped and leaked precum for the first time I can remember. The heat hit my heart, between where he was pulling and pulling on my big pink nipples, and expanded as I expanded and melted. Boys felt pleasure. That’s what they did. They surrendered, and opened, and felt pleasure.

The sound, the low grinding sound, was me moaning as this slab of masterful muscle worked and worked on my nipples as they slowly flared hotter and hotter.

“That’s right. Gooood boy,” he growled over me. Again, warmth from my nuts, my ass up my cock like a rocket – more precum oozed out into the golden fur of my heaving belly. My heart opened, I sank into the bed. Every time he said that word, this happened, and every time he said it he worked a little extra hard on my nipples, then eased back.

“Gotta get you a lot of endorphins for what’s coming, boy,” he said, leaning over me so his musk filled my mouth. The muscles of his belly flexed above my nose. He was using his mouth, sucking hard, and biting at my left nipple, nipping over and over as he used my precum to lube my right nipple as he worked it hard and and harder and harder.

“That’s it, good boy, good boy, good BOY. CUM NOW! OBEY!” and he pulled my nipples in a vicious vice grip.

My nipples have always been big and sensitive, but I was never that interested in them. Dudes could pull on em a little, but… now. The flood of heat from my tits down and back up. Feeling totally open, loved, vulnerable, taken care of… with someone in charge of me. He wanted me to obey him by cumming… I’m not sure I could have done anything else.

It hurt a little, the way the 2nd cum sometimes does. It was hot, spasms showing my abs over and over as I dumped muck up between my pecs, then on my belly, then drooling down to filter through my curly bush.

I remember Lan murmuring and murmring to me, and his hands on my body, my belly, my cock. I may have passed out for a little bit. In a dream, the warmth spread to my ass, some force lifted my knees ineluctably. Something cleaned my belly.

“…come back to me now, boy. Into my eyes,” he said in a soft deep voice that melted something in my chest and set fire to something else in my belly.

My green eyes were locked on his dark ones. There was a strap around the backs of my knees connected to the headboard. I was thoroughly warm and relaxed, my hips relaxed with a pillow under my ass and my knees in the air. Lan was there, between my legs in the middle like he was in the middle of my head now, dominating my thoughts.

His sweat smell was musky and amazing. There was the smell of my cum in the air, and the soft tang of soap.

I wanted him to fuck me like I had never wanted anything before in my life. I groaned.

Unbelievably, my cock was climbing toward hard again.

“That’s right, boy. Your new boss, your new master, is going to mark your beautiful formerly-free white ass now. Down the throat, replacing your will, up the ass, replacing your drive to do anything but obey.”

I groaned again. My ass was warm and open and full of some kind of lube. I could see his massive cock thumping, feel it pushing softly onto and away from my anus that was pulsing to try and pull him in. I hadn’t been fucked in a decade.

“Understand this. Letting me in is letting me in. It’s not your ass,” he leaned in a little and there was pleasure and pain as his foreskin stretched back and the thick meat of his cockhead stretched my hole. “It’s everything. When you open to me, you take me all the way into you,” his black gaze scoured through me. My heart sang, hot, my belly burned with horny passion. My cock bounced, looking way more than it’s 8 1/2 sturdy inches.

“All this PLEASURE,” and his voice scoured my nerves with pleasure. I almost came as his cock stretched my hole. My balls pulled up, “is giving in. Changing, now, as you always wanted. Just submission now. Leaving your self behind, existing just for Master Lan,” God I wanted him to shut the fuck up and fuck me, but I couldn’t even move my head, and the big muscles of my arms lay uselessly above my head.

“Opening now, opening more and more, more and more,” he set a soft rocking in the bed springs. Pressure. Release. Pressure. Release. The pressure of his cock almost inside me was heaven. The release of it almost slipping wetly off my anus was hell. I needed. I was just need and pleasure, my heart pounding in my chest. I wanted him to shove his cock up so far I choked on it. I wanted every kind and degrading thing he ever wanted.

“Aaaah!” I cried out, as everything let go at once, as his fat dick head slicked inside of me, the foreskin pulled back and taut. More precum from my cock slicked my belly all over again.

Lan leaned over me as his incredible thick huge veiny pole slid past my guard and deep inside me where I had always needed cock. His shoulder muscles bulged with veins; his pectoral muscles were perfect slabs, his ridged abs rippling with his breath. I could see the little muscles of his traps and his lateral abs.

He was fucking me. There were words but I was in another country in his dark eyes, and as they rewrote my thoughts, I didn’t know or care. Just his dark eyes and the cock that I never wanted out of me ever again, the cock I would do anything for, give anything to.

“… NOW!” and I could feel the splurge of his cum painting my insides. My whole body was lit up. There was a steady stream of cum being crushed out of my prostate by his massive dick.

I woke up to my alarm buzzing away.

My ass hurt vaguely as I walked into the bathroom. I stretched as my long cock unleashed a huge torrent in the bowl.

I looked up.

There was a chain around my neck with a brass lock on it. In small letters it said “THOR”.

My cock got hard and my piss went all over the bathroom as memory flooded in from last night.

Initiate 1 – The Novice’s Beginning

Sweat poured over my thin blond brows, stinging my eyes. I strained, veins bulging along my arms and throat. My breath huffed, hot. I thrust with my legs and felt the burn of my tired buttox round and release. I cried out like a gull, “ah!” The chunk of granite I had dragged across the yard arced over the briar hedge. There was a loud crack as it pounded into the stones down below the hilltop monastery.

The Mediterranean sun was hot on my shoulders. I would burn soon, but I had to get this done, and the robe was too heavy for this kind of work – plus the proctor would beat me if I stained it with my ‘excessive sweat’ again. I ran my my hands down the work-trained muscles of my torso. I had become firm, rounded from labor in a way that hunting and fishing in the forests of the North had not done. The sweat rolled in little rivers past the red gold coins of my nipples.

“You seem to be doing quite well, Brother,” the quiet voice of Rector Atto move through me with a smoky note I didn’t know how to interpret. I stiffened. In more ways than one. I turned to face the squat Greek. Long dark chest hairs peeked through the neck of his robe as if pushed up by his massive frame. My gut went warm when I saw him; as always I wanted to make him proud of me, but the warmth went deep.

“Th-thank you, Rector,” I said, lowering my head, blond curls falling in my face, blocking some of the merciless sun.

“The Abbot has emerged from prayer, and he will meet with you,” it was softly spoken from his thick lips, but it was a command. I looked at the bucket of water I’d brought out with me, grimacing at the smell under my arms.

“I can wash and – ”

“You will come now, as you are,” gesturing with one thick hand, the hairs on his knuckles dark and curly. I thought about what his hands could do. He had already turned to walk toward the monastery, and I just stood there, watching the thick moons of his ass appear and disappear under the robe as the real moon does in the sky.

My cock was beginning to uncurl in my loincloth. I bit the inside of my lip and grabbed my robe. Rector Atto was disappearing into the monastery. I raced after him and toward some much-needed relief from the sun.

We were in the Abbot’s tower, high atop the cloister. The climb didn’t give my sweat a chance to dry and I tried to pull parts of the robe away from my body as I entered the receiving cell outside the Abbot’s private chapel. I unlaced my sandals and did my best to brush the dirt from my feet. The abbot’s sandals were next to mine, and a smell of oil and man wafted off them. Although with my northern blood, I was a head taller than the abbot, his sandals were wider and inches longer than my own.

“Father Abbot?” Atto asked, dark eyes under his dark brows glued to the sweat stains spreading through my robe. He mouthed “OFF” to me and made an over-the-head gesture. As I pulled the robe off, hanging it on the hook inside the door, I wished again for hair – like even the other Novices had – to cover myself. I stood quietly, breathing in my own smell, willing the sweat to dry.

“Thank you, Rector, you may send in the Novice and go,” came the rich voice of the Abbot from the next room.

Atto’s thick shoulder muscles bulged as he bent his head and withdrew. Before he closed the door, he ran his eyes over me like a rough hand. I felt him judging my pale skin, the freckles on my shoulders, the betraying blush on my cheeks. I wanted to fall to my knees by the time he closed the heavy oak door.

“Come to me, boy,” the Abbot’s voice drew me toward the smell of frankincense.
It was hot in the Nave. The shutter doors leading into the chapel itself were partly closed. Candles and the smell of beeswax came to me.

The upper wall of the Nave was a stained glass window of St. Michael – the sun behind it burned the room red and gold, and made it hot as a Turkish bath. St Michael held a sword up before his body like a great phallus of burning light.
The Abbot sat on a bench in a prayer booth, eyes hooded, his tall, dark body covered in beads of sweat like worshipers. His hair was cropped short, salt creeping in along his temples and down into his beard like adoring fingers of time. His back was straight, and I could see the small muscles along his ribs holding him upright. His dark feet were planted on the warm stones. My pale eyes were magnets to his loincloth. Sweat had soaked through it everywhere. It bulged with his manhood, edges dangling down over the edge of the bench. I swallowed and prayed for strength as my smaller pink cock continued its lengthening in my own loincloth.

I was so confused by my arousal that prayer was my only refuge.

I knelt to hide my excitement, and kissed the Abbot’s gold ring. His fingers were thick and strong, with much smaller hairs than Atto’s along his knuckles. The smell of his manhood filled my nostrils and my head swam. My traitorous penis began to ooze.

The Abbot’s dark eyes were burning over me when I rose to my knees, back straight.

The length of my cock throbbed with my heartbeat and I prayed to St. Michael for strength, but his phallus seemed to throb too with the sunlight.

I swallowed, my mouth going dry, looking down at the floor, trying to look at anything but the bulge under the Abbot’s loincloth, or the masculine roll of the man’s abdominal muscles above it, the fine, fatless cuts of his body from his fasting and sweating sharp enough to cut my heart.

“How may I…” I swallowed, flicking my gaze up at the Abbot, “serve you, Lord?” I asked quietly, unable to look away from the mounds of his loincloth. I licked my lips… to… whet them?

His deep voice like a drum, “Brother Finn, how is the monastery treating you? I see Rector Atto has not spared the labor.”

I nodded, intensely grateful for something to focus on. I was a little confused and my face was a map to my heart, as my father always said before selling me to the Brothers. I nodded ferociously. “Yes, Lord Abbot, I love it here, and…” I felt scrawny and hairless and sweaty, but I saw there was a swell of arms and shoulders that my father’s failed attempts to teach me the sword had not instilled. “Yes, I am getting stronger.”

“Stand up for me,” the Abbot commanded.

I was terrified I’d be thrown out, but I could not bring myself to resist. I subtly adjusted myself, and stood. The bulges of my quads were also new, and the sun had already reddened them. My calves were tight. My modest cock pushed obscenely against my loincloth, resisting my efforts to shove it to the side. It was hidden only by its shortness and the bunching of the cloth around my waist. I turned a deeper shade of crimson.

“Yes, things have gone well for you.  You’re 20 summers now, is that right?” he asked, licking his thick, mediterranean lips.

My brows knit, “21 as of this very night, sir,” I muttered, praying to any listening saint to hide my erection that was profaning this holy place. If anything, it made me even harder.

He nodded as though that made some kind of sense I could not fathom.

“You know,” he said, rising suddenly from his seat. I was one of the tallest men at the monastery, my Viking heritage strong in me even if my father disowned me, but he made me feel short, feet shorter than him. He continued, “I was on retreat here for 21 days to pursue an inspiration.”

“I did…not?” I muttered as the Abbot moved past me, illuminated in the golden glow of Michael’s stained glass. I turned to follow him, but he laid one heavy hand on my shoulder, and turned me back to face the prayer bench.

“St. Michael came,” he said close behind me, “to me each night for the last 7 nights.” It was definitely getting hotter in here. The abbot’s big hands were running across my bare shoulders, somehow raising goosebumps. I think I might have gulped audibly.

“He revealed to me many things, wondrous and challenging,” he said against my hair, the fierce heat of his body against mine. He ran his hands down the lines of my lats toward the new swell of lower back muscle above my buttox. He sighed as he ran his hands across my exposed buttocks. I had been asking Atto for a year for a new loincloth and he had just smiled and shook his head.

“Oh, God,” I groaned.

“Yes,” the Abbot said as he slowly massaged his way down my big round pale buttocks, pushing the loincloth down. “He has plans for you. such wondrous plans. And it is my duty to begin getting you ready for them.”

I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I had several women back in our village, and lusted after them hungrily from the time I was 13 to when I bedded Lorna for the first time when we both reached adulthood at 14.

But it had been years since I had been touched by a woman – a lot of years – and over a year since I’d even seen one. And the sweaty cells of the young novices were a constant miasma of man smells. Of course, we were supposed to be celibate, but the funk indicated either we were not all following our vows, or these adult men were having nocturnal emissions. I admit, my sins were many, and although I arrived longing for women, now all I tended to think about was my cellmates all around me, smelling of sweat and lying naked in the dark.

“Oh, my Lord!” I gasped. I had drifted off and my loincloth just hit my feet, all wet with sweat and my precum. It wasn’t my smaller, large-finger-sized cock bobbing free that brought me back. It wasn’t the Abbot’s hands digging fingers into my hip flexors and my high rounded butt cheeks that made me off balance forward a little bit. It was the 21 day beard on the roman Abbott’s face scratching back there between my cheeks as his hot tongue snaked out and licked and lapped against my virgin rosebud.

It was a sweet pleasure I have never known. I tried to contain myself. His tongue lapped and lavished against my secret entrance as the templars called it. My instinct was to hit him, to use my Slavic strength, to run. Instead, my rosebud opened to my Lord. His tongue slipped inside and I bit the calloused ball of my hand hard to contain the whimpers as my other hand braced against the wooden prayer stall where St. Francis was holding his hands out toward me and gazing into my eyes with a look of sweet ecstasy.

My balls shuddered hard and slipped inside my body, and the ramrod length of my cock began to unload. I hit St. Francis right in his halo, splashed across his body, down the nave, across the seat cushion, on the kneeler, and on the floor.

The Abbot’s big hands held me fast and his moan moved deep and secret places inside me. Another line of my seed dribbled from the end of my pulsing pink penis down onto my loincloth below me.

My head didn’t clear as it had before when I unleashed with Lorna and Detta and other girls – or even alone. Instead, a deeper intoxication moved me. I leaned my other hand against the wall as the Abbot pulled me hard toward him, and buried his entire face between my round, pale cheeks. He was humming deep up into me and his impossibly long tongue was fully inside me and touching something in me that had never been touched before.

I groaned and moaned and found that I was pushing on the wall, pushing back on that big Roman nose of the Abbot, against his devil’s tongue up inside plundering my secret treasures. My thoughts were filled with service to this man, and heat and sweat and light – St. Michael burning in the glass, his great sword throbbing in the open air – like a much, much bigger version of my own.

I was having difficulty thinking – and breathing. I was sweating freely, though surely it could not be as hot in here as it had been out in the sun. I was losing my grip on myself.

The Abbot was up and against me , the hair on his chest scratching my bare white back, the thick hairs of his legs against the slender gold hairs on the backs of mine. I was blinking a torrent of sweat out of my eyes and pulling in several full breaths to still myself.

“Prepare to receive the first gifts the Arch Angel has ordained for you,” the Abbot murmured in my ear with such kindness I just melted back against him. He wrapped his arms around me and I was so happy just to be held, I didn’t pay attention at first to the massive hard object pressing into the cleft of my ass.

I sighed. I could have stayed in this tall man’s embrace, the scent of his oils forever.
Then I realized he was moving against me, holding me close, pulling my head back to rest on his shoulder. I could feel the length of his manhood sliding in all the sweat and spit between my ass cheeks, the arrow of it moving against the lips of my ass and then with a groan from me popping away and sliding up against my lower back.

“Relax, Novice, relax against me,” and his hands pressed my neck backward again so my gold curls fell finally across his deep olive skin. His other hand pressed my chest, and as I had seen Lorna do to herself, two of his big fingers began to slowly roll my left nipple. I’d never known that men’s nipples were like a woman’s, but I moaned against the Abbot’s neck all unwilling as he did that and the most wonderful feelings ran from my nipple down to my still hard penis, making it bob and throb and pulse in spite of release only moments ago.

I had no idea what was happening, and I hoped it never stopped. And then. And then as my whole body pressed and rocked back into the Abbot’s powerful embrace, his lean muscles hard in all the places my young body was soft and lush.
The Abbot’s long tube of a cock, slick with his own excitement and his spittle and my sweat, it slid past the guardian of my anus who had abandoned his post, slipped inside me. The pain was focused and intense.

“Relax, Novice, against me, let me into you, let St. Michael into you,” he murmured, pinching my nipple very firmly so that the pain and pleasure rose together inside me.

Then I was fuller than I have ever been. The Abbot pressed his hips against my hindquarters and he and I were one, like God and man. Like breath and flesh. He was inside me in places I’d never imagined were even there. The ropy muscles of his arms were around me, both working to twist the sensitive bronze red-gold tips of my nipples, holding me up, holding me against him.

His penis entered fully and deeply within me, the curls of his pubic hair grinding against my lower back, his planes and my curves fitting together in a way that would make Pythagoras’ head spin.

He withdrew from me and it was the most saddest thing that has happened in my short life. I was muttering, something profane, something like a prayer, something needful. The Abbot was muttering praise to me, telling me service was my calling and oh what a service I was performing for him.

He moved against me, his sweat was my sweat, his skin was my skin, I was his to use so completely, I could no longer tell where I ended. His pleasure was my pleasure, his movements were my pleasure – the deep thrusting of his member inside me, the way his balls struck my soft underparts. He was throbbing inside me, I was throbbing. He was pressing and pushing and battering away at the last little part of myself that was separate. I was coming apart into red and yellow light and sweat and the beauty of being held by a man.

His hands clamped down on my big nipples, hard and intense. “NOW,” he said.
I came again. Poor St. Francis’ face was covered by my man’s gift now. And the roman eagle on the back of the prayer seat. I heard it hitting the cushion that was still dark with the Abbot’s sweat.

And then. And then. The Abbot clutched me harder to him. He spoke in an ancient Latin I could not understand – my poor learning. He thrust so hard into me, I came off my feet.

Heat poured through me, and I felt him unleash a torrent within. Pleasure, ecstasy coursed through my body. It was too much. His pleasure was literally my pleasure and I could not contain it. There was light and burning sword before me and within me, and St. Michael in the glass turned his baleful gaze from the heavens to me, seeing me, seeing through me, speaking in words I could not hear.

I had never felt so clean, so pure, so loved. The Abbot behind me. Michael before me.

I awoke with a start. In my cell. It was night. I was cool, and I smelled like rosemary. The thin sheet I slept under was tented by my nightly arising. I felt a sweet pain in my nether region as I wondered… did my penis look bigger?

Explore…

Making love to a woman and making love to a man are very different.

Not that I don’t want intimacy and sweet lovemaking with my man. That’s how we bond over time.

But as a 6’5 dude, built, with a big dick and a big personality, it’s no shocker that half the dudes I’ve ever been with want it rough, intense, sweaty, stinky man sex style. No surprise my bf ends up moaning, “Sir, yes sir. Give me your cock, sir” over and over as I pound the cum out of us both – even though we have no bdsm component to our relationship.

After a couple decades, tho, being a man and a complex human, I start to hunger for more…. Do I want to go into extreme bdsm to keep that edgy hot male feeling? I had my little buddy tie me up one day and worship my cock until I was a sweaty, begging lump of meat, and he was just smiling and stroking my balls. When I came it was all him, it was all letting go. I stayed hard for the first time in a decade.

Let’s explore.

Thor’s Training 2 – Open Up Boy

She smiled. It wasn’t the devouring cat smile I’d seen so many times when she talked about the boys she trained, devoured, and kicked out. It was pleasure and kindness and a little hard certainty boring into me. I’d let her do me anytime. Maybe that’s why we were friends all along.

“Okay, David. I’ll see you again. I want to admire your body and your collar when you’re ready.” She smiled and kissed me on the cheek.

“Take good care of my man, Lan. Or I’ll fuck you up,” he chuckled, and I felt all warm inside.

“Come on, big boy, we need to start your training,” Lan said, grabbing the front of my Hawaiian shirt. I wanted to protest, but couldn’t pull my eyes away from the massive muscles of his shoulders bunching and his biceps bulging into softballs as he pulled me bodily from sitting to standing, towering over him. I was afraid the Tommy Bahama would split, but it didn’t.

“Enough of this bullshit,” Lan seemed to be reading my mind. He grabbed each side of the silk shirt and pulled, the wooden buttons popping off.

My mouth opened, but I couldn’t bring myself to object. I watched as he revealed the fuzzy gold mounds of my pecs, the small bowl of my belly, the abs still just visible like manicotti. The fur had crept onto my shoulders, I noticed. My body was shining softly with sweat, my body hair like old gold.

He was noticing me too, his eyes running over me like hunger. I loved the way he looked at me. It made me want to pose. I could see his cock hard in his shorts, and it seemed to be throbbing. But with my head swimming and the music hard in my ears, everything seemed to be throbbing.

He led me toward the back of the club, through a set of celluloid curtains. A thick Samoan stood there in a security t-shirt, watching us pass. He smiled at me like I was a sheep and didn’t know what was inside. I’d worn that grin before. My ass tingled.

Inside, darker music was pumping, and blacklights and bare red bulbs outlined flesh and hid detail.

We passed two men in their 20’s slowly fucking a woman between them, the woman suckling the wide nipple of the tall black man in front of her as he made out with the slender white guy grinding into her from behind. I wanted to be all of them.

Several dudes were leaning against the walls, groaning, eyes rolling, as an assortment of men and women sucked their cocks – small, large, cut, uncut.

Didn’t this only happen in seedy gay places? Where was I?

Lan steered us into an alcove in the back. “Too fuckin tall,” he muttered in a throaty voice. He yanked my shorts down to my boots. He slapped my big cock a few times, leaving red marks. My balls pulled up. He smacked my furry ass. “That’s gonna be delicious.”

He looked into my pale eyes with his dark ones, and I almost fell in. I opened my mouth slightly and leaned forward to kiss him, tilting my head to avoid the hawk of his nose. “Right,” he sneered. “On your knees for me, big boy.”

With massive strength he pulled down on my big traps. My knees buckled and hit the deck. I was facing his huge shaft pointing left inside his chinos, a wet spot near his left hip.

“Kiss it,” he growled.

I licked my lips. I leaned in. I kissed it. It was warm under my lips, and they throbbed together, the veins in his huge dick, and my red lips. A humiliating thrill ran through me. I kissed it again, tasting the precum from the thick cockhead. I licked it. “Yeah, clean my fucking pants of that precum you made me leak, boy. Soak it with your spit.”

I thought about how many guys had sucked my cock, and how I had prided myself on never sucking theirs. It had started out as a way not to get HIV, but then it was a power thing….

I was licking the outline of the fat bulbous head of his cock and the thick shaft, at least an inch longer and thicker than my own monster. I grabbed my cock to jerk off. He shifted and put one of his black boots on my nuts. I gasped and looked up.

There was a wicked flush to his face. “Did I say you could touch your little cock, boy?”

“N-no!” I found myself whining. I pulled my hands away. On instinct, I put them behind my ass, the hairs tickling my wrists.

He smiled, but it wasn’t nice. “Good boy. Time to teach you how to please a man.”

I thought I already knew how to please a man. Maybe I only knew how to please boys.

I was wobbling slightly, but riveted as he slowly unzipped his khakhis. I thought he’d pull his cock out of it, which I thought would be hot seeing it bob and hang from a hole in his pants, but it was too big and his hips were too narrow to pull that off.

He had tight black undergear on underneath. The shining outline of his cock literally made me drool. Slowly, he peeled down his shorts. It seemed to go on forever.

His shaft was thick and olive-colored and completely straight. Big veins snaked along its length, from his huge, smooth nuts to the perfect round swell of the head. I started to lean forward. I had to get that massive beauty into my mouth before I drooled on myself.

Learn to suck itHe grabbed my jaw in his big hands and I managed to wrench my eyes away from his amazing tool. My ass clenched. He spit full in my face, and I closed my eyes just in time. The hot wet of it ran down my left cheek into my beard. I grunted. In surprise, maybe. I felt this swell of gratitude; my dick which no one had ever called ‘little’ jerked. I needed his cock in my mouth or to jerk off. I’d come in seconds, coating the floor. My loads were thick and big. I felt my hairy nuts brush the floor as my balls rolled around in the sack.

“You are the object, David. You need to learn how to please me and earn pleasing me before you get the privilege of even sucking my cock.” His boot tapped between my cock and my balls with the next words, punctuating each one. “You. Get. That?”

I knew what was expected. I kept my eyes closed. “Yes. Sir.” I said, my suddenly deep voice vibrating my belly.

“Good boy,” he said low and gravelly. His heavy cock thumped into my beard, rubbing precum into my hairy cheek. My cock lurched. He noticed and chuckled. His accent was thick as he said, “Your lady friend, she was so right about you. My god, you’re going to make me so fucking happy.”

His hand tightened painfully on my jaw and it opened wide. He said, “Say ‘ahhh’.”

I moaned out an ahhhh.

He slid the plum head of his fat dick inside my mouth. I wanted to close my red lips on it, lash it with my tongue. I’d always been afraid of precum since back in the day, they thought it gave you AIDS. I wanted his to coat my tonsils. I tasted it – salty, slick, as he rubbed the head of his cock on my tongue.

“There’s a good boy. Now close your lips and open your throat and I’m going to fuck your face. And if you open up real good, you’ll get my load down your throat.”

I moaned again. My big lower lip closed greedily on his glans. Under his fingers I extended my lower jaw to open my throat. I held my tongue still with an act of will as I felt a little spurt of precum hit the roof of my mouth. God, I wanted this man.

God I’d wanted this for a long time.

Slowly, he pushed his cock deeper into my mouth. I pushed my tongue forward, further accentuating the forward thrust of my jaw, making my mouth deeper and opening my throat. The long, straight shaft slipped along my lips, mashed my tongue down in my mouth. I moaned like a whore, and he chuckled.

“Open your eyes and look at me, boy, while I own your throat,” Lan’s voice and whatever I was on had me begging for anything he wanted to dish out. My green eyes flew open. His eyes were huge and black like magnets nothing could break free of. “Inhale deep,” he said, sawing his fat cock back and forth through my lips. His big balls were already pulling up in their hairless olive sack.

I took a very deep breath, chest and belly swelling.

“Stay with my eyes,” he said as his fat cock head pushed against my tonsils like I had a choice. “Just go deep into my eyes as my cock goes deep into you.”

I knew I was leaning forward. My throat muscles clenched on the huge plum of his cockhead. His precum was flowing now, slicking my throat. I swallowed around him and he grunted pleasure.

“Deeper now, we’re both going deeper and deeper now, aren’t we David,” he kept up a steady rhythm of speech, matching the steady and back forth of his massive cock easing down my throat. I felt like I was falling away.

I could already barely think. “Deeper and deeper, that’s a good boy. So happy to be so full of cock that owns you, the man that owns you, letting go of that stupid self-will,” I groaned and swallowed the full length of his rod, not even feeling the huge head buried down my throat. My nose was against the flat plane of muscle, that trapezoid at the bottom of his abs.

Both hands clamped on the side of my head. I just leaned there, locked to his eyes, unable to look away.

“Needing sir’s cock so badly you can’t look away, you don’t even need to breathe. The burning in your lungs is a need for my cock, isn’t it, boy?” My drool ran down his ball sack and hit my knee. There was a thrumming pulse running all the way through me now. The burning filled me more and more as his cock filled me as his eyes and voice filled me.

I realized I had never been happy before this moment.

His grip was iron. His cock was iron. He was fucking my face, slowly, deliberately, hard. Tears ran from the corners of my eyes. All I could see was the mountain of man that was Lan above me, the rolling of his muscles as he fucked my skull. The patter continued. The words were a river I couldn’t hold onto.

“All you need is sir’s cock inside you. You don’t need to jerk off to cum. You’re a good boy. Every time I remind you you’re my good boy, you will touch this need, this place, all that old resistance falling away, no need for it. Whenever you masturbate, you will think only of me, need only my cock, otherwise so empty,” he was picking up pace. Some tiny part of me in the back of my head was rolling my eyes, thinking, what, did this guy think he was fucking hypnotizing me? even as that part of me went down into the black need that was being released inside me. That would be realized inside me.

I lost the rest of what he said. My vision was slowly darkening, tunneling down, his thrusts were hard. My throat felt hot and raw.

“Now you’re going to take it, you’re going to remember doing it, needing it, how you submitted all for this, and when … I… cum inside you, you will cum… my … good …. boy… now … CUM!”

His boot scraped down my cock and pressed on my balls. His huge dick expanded inside me even more. It spasmed. I began to swallow as his massive meat unloaded down my throat. One jet. Hard pressure on my nuts and they jerked. Two jets as the plum head pulled back from my throat, bathing my tonsils. Three jets, and my vision was darkness and his eyes as his cum splashed my tongue and the roof of my mouth, salty and strong, like the drinks I’d been given. The pressure in my lungs was the pressure in my cock and the pressure of my jaw.

I came like I’d never cum before. Only Lan’s iron grip on my skull as his plum head rested between my lips kept me up on my knees. Over and over my nuts spasmed under his boot and my cock unloaded against the wall of the alcove, across the floor, across Lan’s boot. The last of his cum drained into my mouth and I swallowed and swallowed.

Something gave way inside me. I was so happy. I would never be this happy again.

I would do anything.

Lan sat down on the little board seat nailed gainst the wall, his muscles bunching and contracting, resting my head on his huge leg. His cock came out from my suckling mouth with a pop.

I was just staring at the ten inches lying there, thick, a darker purple than when he put it in. Lan leaned forward, one hand holding my head, the other my nipple. He began muttering in my ear.

I felt asleep but knew I was wide awake. His words poured into my mind….

What’s the fucking point?

Glad you asked.

I’m tired of being a good boy. Or not being enough of a good boy.

I don’t want to have to hold myself back and pretend that normal sex and bland relationships are interesting.

I know there are guys for whom the dressing up thing works. And, there are so many of us it doesn’t work for. I look at a dude in a leather harness and nothing happens. It’s drag, but with leather. The guy is hot or not, it has nothing to do with how much dead cow and chrome he’s got on. Some dude in shiny pants and a weird nazi-looking cap telling me to lick his boots I just find annoying. Some hot guy in shorts getting me on my knees to worship his beautiful feet – I can see that.

Maybe this resonates with you. I want to explore power exchanges between men. Not the tying up, dressing up way it usually gets done, but really between men directly. As play, as life, as intensity.

I’m going to use myself as a guinea pig. I’m going to write jackoff material.

Stay with me.