The Cerise boys are doing fundraising for their all-bottom pack. They go to the local gay gym and offer up their pledge’s beautiful ass. $20 for a 2-minute rimjob – who’s in? The queue of drooling tops send the money without much thought before sinking to their knees and burying their faces into his hairy, muscular, manly, superior hole.
The tops are such ass pigs that the 2 minutes feels like 2 seconds. They moan and whine into his ass, unwilling to leave. “You can suck on his ass for as long as you want, man,” says the Cerise jock in charge of the fundraiser. “Just gotta pay up.”
Cerise leaves the gym 1000s of dollars richer that day. The pledges got to takes turns having their holes worshiped by the grateful dog tops, which was fun for them. It really gave them a taste of the bottom-power that Cerise was built on.
Mark is well aware he’s supposed to face the other way on the hack squat machine. But he’s also well aware of how intoxicating his ass is to all the slack-jawed gym bros. Hitting squats like this still works his glutes, and he gives the fellas a show. No downside.
You want that closet dick, you gotta play their game. Mark was always in control, always running the room, but he was perfectly willing to play along with the delusion that his boys were domming him. A lot of straight-identifying men can only be with another man if it’s clear he has all the power. That he can say no or stop whenever he wants and just leave. That he isn’t expected to reciprocate the “giving” of gay sex. And that’s all fine with Mark. It’s just a game. And Mark always wins.
“You wanna be a jock like me? Join the program, bro.”
There’s no better propaganda than success. What man doesn’t want this? If all it costs is your individuality, your independence, and your heterosexuality, then so be it.
Coach has this jock on thrice weekly back workouts. His ass was getting so big that it was throwing everything out of proportion. Obviously Coach doesn’t want the player’s ass to shrink. That’s insane. So the back must grow to compensate.
Mark, like a predatory cat, surveying the savannah looking for his next meal. Which lucky unassuming gym bro will be hilt-deep in that peach within the next hour? My boy has a way of sniffing out the willing game.
When you see some useless fuckmeat perving on you in the locker room and you stop a minute to decide whether to ignore, beat or fuck. You were an awesome bully when you were young, so you’ve got plenty of experience putting faggots in their place. Still, gyms have all these PC rules these days, so it might not be worth the hassle of pounding on the little bitch. Would be fun though.
For Daddy’s sluts, “never skip leg day” isn’t just a dumb broism, but a hard and fast rule they never break. They all learn quick how much Daddy cares about leg day. And they all learn quick why.
If slut here wants continued access to that free juice, he has to make sure he builds something Daddy wants to leave a gaping, cummy mess.
Mark in a pair of shorts that accent his fabulously fuckable ass. He’s a shameless slut, clearly. But here’s the thing about shameless sluts – they get dick. Which is why people resent them so much. While women are on Twitter complaining about patriarchy, or gays are in the club bitching about each other, the sluts of the world are out there slaying dick and taking names. Don’t resent my boy Mark just cause he knows what he wants and actually works to get it.
Dustin contemplating Mark’s offer. He told the lunk that if he wanted a piece of the best pussy he’d ever have, then don’t be shy. Now he’s just staring at Mark doing his Romanian deadlifts in his jockstrap and booty shorts and can’t believe he’s actually thinking about it.
When it’s a few months into the jock conditioning, and coach’s newest star is ready for the next phase. He’s gonna learn what it means to enjoy his whole body. For these repressed jocks, getting their ass played with is a big no-no. But coach has a foolproof system. No fucking right now, just some good old rimming to start. And the rimmer is the rookie’s mentor, which helps with the discomfort. They’ve spent the past few months intensely bonding.
Coach’s jocks owe so much to Coach’s special shakes. Coach has been feeding his boys it for decades and has fiddled with the recipe to make it perfect for hypermasculinizing his boys.
The jocks are good boys, so they don’t question Coach. To them, the shakes – their “jock juice” as they call it – is just a potent protein shake. Sweet vanilla, thick and creamy. It helps get them pumped for the gym and makes them crazy horny. There’s no downside.
You’d been studying English lit. You remember that. But, like, why? Or fuck, was it history? Fuck knows, bruh. All you remember is meeting Ashton in the locker room and then suddenly you were buff and horny and fucking dudes. Huhuhu. Sweet, dude.
Nah, wait. You met Coach first, right? Fuuuck. You fucking love Coach! He’s like a dad but better cause you get to fuck around with him. Huhuhu. Fucking Coach with your bruh after lifting.
Lifting, you remember! Holy shit, lifting is life. In the gym twice a day, every day, bruhs. No excuses! Yeah. You don’t remember much, but you remember lifting.
Fuuck. You’re so fucking horny. Coach has got you in a cage to help with your lifting. Makes you stronger. Keeps your testosterone high. You don’t understand all that science shit. Coach is smart, he’ll keep you right. All you know is that Coach says you’re locked, you’re locked. You wanna fuck so bad though. Maybe you can get Ashton to fuck you with a dildo and that’ll make you bust. Huhuhu. Dildo.
He’s a year into the program, and jockboi just can’t fucking believe the results. The daily gym grind, the supplements, the bulking, the chastity, the weekly check-ins, the sacrifices he’s made – it was all worth it. He’s now fully and truly a jock. He’s only gonna become more powerful.
When Mark’s feeling especially confident and rocks his workout wearing nothing but his stringer thong. The attendants would say something to him, but their comments always fall on deaf ears. Besides, who’d complain?
Mark just gave up his hole to this gym daddy and now he’s getting the usual spiel.
“You tell anyone about this, you’ll fucking regret it!” “I don’t wanna see your fag ass around here again, slutting it up like some dirty whore!” “Just cause I fucked you don’t make me gay. Let’s get that fucking straight!”
Sure thing, daddy. Mark might’ve believed it if this wasn’t his third time round the racetrack.
Poor closeted daddies hopped up on roids and desperate to bust.
There’s nothing more satisfying to jock or Coach than when a jock truly starts to look the part. When the months of training, eating, hypnosis, indoctrination and drugs begin to pay off. Jockboi has completely forgotten who he used to be. Whether skinny, fat, thicc, meek, fem, or just invisible – gone! It no longer matters. All that matters is that he is now jock.
Someone just asked the bull his name and he’s trying his best to remember. He really is trying to think. Problem is, he’s forgotten how to think. Good. Thoughts just get in the way. Now he just needs Coach to direct him to the dumbbells so he can continue his session. His memory’s wrecked, but his muscle memory is stronger than ever. That’s how he still knows how to fuck so well.
Daddy teaching his protégé what it takes to be a true alpha dom. They’re staring down a cute boi with ass for days. If an alpha wants, an alpha gets. Go and get it bro!
Your gym has a policy that fuckmeat is welcome IF it makes itself known at all times. That way, you and the other fellas know who to harass, fondle and fuck when the feeling strikes. Obviously you don’t want fuckmeat in the gym pretending it was equal with the men, but so long as it knows it’s inferior, it can stay. Men want fit, lean fuckmeat anyway.
Such pro-fuckmeat policies have been extremely popular with the fuckmeat themselves. They’re prancing around the gym in their jockstraps, happy as can be, baiting the men to use and abuse them.
The gay guy at the gym is awful friendly. He keeps helping you with your lifts, and has tons of advice about diet and self-care. One day, on his way out, he pulled down his shorts and gave you this signal. You didn’t know what it meant, but you didn’t care. You were too busy staring at his impeccable ass and straining to keep your boner down. You failed.
When you’re alone in the gym with your gay bud and he keeps waggling his gorgeous ass at you while you’re doing your curls. You push him onto the bench and start ploughing. You promised yourself the last time would be the last time. Funny how those promises always went to shit when faced with your pal’s warm, tight, beckoning hole… Fuck. You know you’ll be here again, a few days from now, doing it all again. And the thought of that makes you even harder.
When you ask bro if these shorts make your butt look big, and he texts back that you look fucking perfect. You can always rely on your bud to give you a confidence boost. You pull them up a little more and start your squats.
When bro needs a little extra motivation to get out in the gym today and kill it. Bros helping bros go gym and get bigger is true bro. Whatever it takes, fucking do it.
When Mark dresses like this, it must be leg day. Can you blame my boi for wanting to show off?
The amount of dudes who paw at his ass when they walk by, at times blatantly rubbing their chubbed dicks while they do. Some of them are his regulars, some of them Mark’s never spoken to. Doesn’t matter. He’s a good boi, and a good boi’s body is a permanent source of pleasure for other men. Mark welcomes their molestation.
The gym attendants would say something about his attire, but Mark has most of them wrapped around his finger. It’s hard to tell a guy to show some propriety when he was lapping at your balls not two days ago.
Mark waiting in one of the toilet stalls at Sparta for the, uh, “straight” bro he’s been wooing to sneak in and fuck his perfect ass.
Mark’s path always begins with flattery. Gym bros are universally vain and self-conscious and in constant search for validation. Mark gives them what they want. He compliments their bodies, their lifts, their clothes, and he does it with a warming smile. A few weeks of building the bro’s confidence with his words of affirmation, and Mark starts dropping hints about his sex life. It’s planting the idea in the guy’s head – an idea that he has perhaps never truly let himself think about. Men have sex with men. He knows about it intellectually, but he’s never really seen it in the wild.
The dude starts to look at Mark’s mouth differently. All of a sudden, he sees it as a potential house of pleasure. And every now and then, Mark will catch him looking at his butt. So strong and perky and spankable; so much what men want to stick their dicks into. And once Mark’s drops the old “Oh yeah, I fucking love bottoming. I let dudes fuck me as hard as they want”, the guy’s a lock.
And so, the toilet stalls. Lured in by Mark’s brazen, confident sexuality and his genuine love-bombing, and the guy proves something Mark has known his whole life – most straight men… aren’t. And Mark gets to be the beneficiary of the dude’s sexual re-awakening.
Luca – Mark’s rival at Sparta. Not many good bois can compete with Mark. In terms of sheer fuckability mixed with all the good boi charms, Mark comes out on top. Then there’s Luca. Beautiful, fit, strong, ass for days and five years younger, he’s the one for Mark to beat. His greatest strength is the strength of all assertive good bois, which is that he knows he’s beautiful and he knows how to use it to get what he wants from men.
Mark sees so much of himself in the boi. His smouldering eyes, his pouty cocksucker-lips, his untameable donk, his go hard or go home attitude when it comes to showing off, and his insatiable, unself-conscious flirtation with any and all men who interest him. Like all good rivals, Mark admires Luca, and resents him. He wants him to fuck off, to leave his hunting ground alone, but he also appreciates his beauty, grace and game.
And the feelings are mutual. While Luca may be younger than my boi, he sees in Mark a skilled competitor, with an even hotter body and a strong claim to the Sparta territory. It’s rare for Luca to bed a man that Mark hasn’t already fucked.
The best days for both are when they’re both on the field, and both in heat. Mark advances on one man, only for Luca to undercut him. Luca begins his oral service of one bro in his go-to cubicle, Mark drags another bro into the cubicle next door and gives the dude anal. Mark’s with a small group of bros, flirting and laughing and gassing them up, only for Luca to swan over, right up to Mark, and begin making out. The bros will scatter – they do homosexuality in private, but they’re not comfort with it in mixed company – and the two bois will be left sucking on each other’s lips until an attendant tells them to stop.
Mark would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit in love with Luca, with his rival. He does everything Mark does, and Mark is kind of in love with himself.
It’s late, close to midnight. Mark’s back at Sparta for the third time today cause where else would he be? And he’s all but alone with this beast. Huge and rippling, sweating and topless, lifting dangerously heavy weights and screaming out as he does; this is the man for Mark. Now is his time to serve.
So he approaches. Wearing his best slut-stud gear – stringer vest to reveal his nipples, shorts with a 4-inch inseam that hug his donk, and a backwards cap to make sure this alpha knows Mark’s intentions – he meets the alpha’s eye. He gives him his best good boi attitude. A boy’s frown and a pouting lip; Mark looks like a puppy you’ve just scolded.
“Hey,” says Mark.
The alpha looks him over, breathing heavy from his last set. “Cocksucker?” he says.
Mark’s eyes light up and he nods.
Without hesitation, the alpha stomps to Mark’s side and gives his body a proper examination. His large, unfettered hands molest Mark’s ass and he only sticks his butt out further to give the man full access.
“You get fucked too?” he says. His voice is bass-deep.
“Oh yeah,” says Mark. “Anything you want, bro. Anything.”
“Is that right?” His eyes continue their exploration. He pulls Mark’s shorts down to reveal his strapped ass and he digs around Mark’s hole to make sure it’s worth his time. It is.
“Most of the cocksuckers who hit on me aren’t as fuckable as you,” he says.
Of course, Mark loves that.
“Go wait in the locker room. I’ll finish my session then come fuck you.”
“Fuck yeah, bro.”
The alpha swats his ass. “I’m not your bro. What I’m about to do to your pussy I’d never do to a bro. You call me sir.”
“Yes, sir.”
And Mark leaves for the locker room, rock hard in his jock. The fact that the alpha insisted on finishing his session only makes Mark more infatuated. It would soon be his time to serve, and he was gonna do whatever he could to make sure this king came back for more.
Mark’s gym daddy (one of them) strutting around with his usual confidence. Earned, clearly. Mark was enjoying the view while daddy was on the step-machine. He’s a total top to Mark and his other boys, but he’s got the glutes of a young god. Mark would bet money that some dom top is making good use of that daddy hole, and would think it a damn shame if he wasn’t.
Maybe Mark could be that dom top. Good bois aren’t necessarily bottoms and cocksuckers. Sometimes, the best thing a man can do to serve is to top. Maybe Mark will get a piece of that daddy hole.
The following is an excerpt from the first story (The Jock) in Gym Bros Volume 1: Straight Guys Gone Gay. Buy the full thing on Amazon:-
As the sesh was coming to an end, Mark knew he had to seal the deal. Otherwise, he’d have to wait until he and Hud were together again, and by then, the moment might have passed. Hudson might come to his senses and keep his distance. Mark caught Hud heading towards the water fountain. Now or never.
He ‘accidentally’ knocked into the bro’s shoulder. Hudson got set to apologize but when he saw it was Mark, he faltered.
“Oh, hey. You know, I just wanted to say sorry for-”
Mark pulled the dumb lunk round the corner and pushed him gently against the wall. He put his lips firmly against Hud’s and grazed the inside of his mouth with his tongue.
Hudson placed his arms on Mark’s shoulders as if to push him off, but the pressure he exerted was token; a necessary show of resistance from a man who identified as straight. Mark pushed his tongue in deeper and locked with Hudson’s own. At once, Mark got a rush of adrenaline and his dick spiked. Nothing got him going like a tongue war.
And Hudson was right there with him.
Mark giggled into Hudson’s mouth. These gym bros did make him laugh. They tried so hard to not be gay, but when crunch time came, heterosexuality fucked right off. Usually.
He slid his hand down Hud’s front and gently cupped his dick. “You feeling alright, bro?”
“Fuck. I’m just, you know…?”
“What?”
“You know…something, fuck, I don’t know.”
“Don’t worry about it, bro.” Mark rubbed his hard crotch against Hud’s. “I’ve got the same problem.”
The jock gasped and actually exerted pressure as he pushed against Mark’s torso. Their dicks separated.
“I’m not like… you.” He winced at the problematic implication.
“No,” said Mark. “Of course you’re not. But listen, I’m gonna head to the restroom for a sec. If you wanna be not like me in there, you’re more than welcome.”
Mark squeezed Hud’s boner, then sauntered off to the locker room. Hud watched him go. Mark made sure to really waddle his glutes with each step. He always wanted to give a bro a show.
The locker room was as crowded as earlier, though the bros had changed. Mark recognised most, but some were new. He made a quick mental note. He’d get started wooing those studs as soon as he could. Hopefully most were either proud gay sluts like him, or closeted basketcases like Hudson. Either way meant more dick.
As he entered the toilets, Hud entered the locker room. Mark smirked.
Mark just walked in the locker room at Sparta and his fuck buddy Chase caught his eye to share a naughty smile. The three men looked away pointedly. Some shit about shame. No matter. Mark will just enjoy the view and then enjoy a lot more when he gets them alone. Hudson on the right is due to get his dick wet by Mark any day now.
And look at them – his boys. His men. Such a beauty, such a work of art, so frustratingly misunderstood. Mark resents culture for its intense sexual focus on the feminine. Even his fellow gay men often frame sex and sexuality around woman and womanliness.
Not Mark. For him, it’s all about the man. His body of epic mountain peaks and deep, mysterious canyons; his hard cock and bountiful balls, always ready to achieve sex; his strength as both a tool of subjugation and protection; his complex mind and even more complex heart. Men are the world to Mark, and to good bois everywhere.
Mark guiding a gym bro’s hands to where they should be. He’s got a lot of patience for his boys. Many of them have never been with a man.
Mark is often the gateway drug for his bros. The first foray into androphilic sex that sets bro on a spiral of homosexual decadence. Mark loves it. One day, dude is pent-up, reserved and toxic. Six months in Mark’s safe guiding hands, and dude is a sexually liberated poly fuckboi – having sex with any hot thing that’ll have him. Mark’s producing an army of bisexual himbo sluts. The gay agenda made manifest. He is the solution.
Some of his boys reserve their androphilia just for Mark. They don’t wanna play the field once Mark’s broken the dam. They just want Mark’s body, Mark’s lips, Mark’s throat, Mark’s ass, and – eventually – Mark’s cock. They are Marksexual. And Mark does everything he can to keep them on side. He strokes their ego, he worships their masculinity and sexuality, he treats their cocks as objects of reverence.
Most men aren’t willing to just give up a delicious good boi who’s champing at the bit to suck his dick, while praising him for every masculine excess that wider culture condemns him for. That shit will mess with a dude’s brain in all the right ways. And all it takes is a firm guiding hand from a beautiful, talented slut.
Ari might be the biggest bro in Sparta. He has the genetics for it, plus 15 years of roids and bulking and lifting with an intense singularity that’s left him the envy of every bro there. And he has a secret shame.
Ari’s a bottom.
A total submissive nelly bottom who just wants another man to put him in his place. He wants to be called a faggot. He wants to be spat on. He wants to drink a man’s piss. He wants a group of bullies to tie him up and force him to lick their asses while they laugh and jeer. He wants pain. He wants humiliation. He wants a real alpha to find out who he really is, and exploit it. He wants to be conquered.
The muscles are all bravado; armor against any personal or social presumption that he’s not man-enough. He had the genetics for it, and he leaned in. Ari looks like a super strong bull, but he feels like a frightened mouse.
And Mark’s happy to oblige his submissive desires. Ari’s got an ass to match those legs. Huge and powerful and completely intoxicating. And Mark enjoys shoving his dick into it as hard as he can while he calls Ari a dumb little fag.
He’d give the bull after-care if he was allowed. But once Ari’s has his fill of dom cock, he’s out of there. You won’t catch this bro kissing another bro. That shit’s gay, dude.
Even total bottom cocksucking submissive fags like Ari fall prey to the same delusions and mental stasis that forces men in their millions to claim they’re not attracted to men.
Whatever. Mark’s not here to change the world. He’ll let Ari have his secret shame and just enjoy playing with his unbeatable body. That ass though, bruhs, fuuu~
Mark’s gonna cycle to Sparta today. This is what he’ll be wearing. There and back. Showing off comes naturally to a beautiful, thicc-assed good boi who’s brought hundreds of men to heel.
He’ll turn plenty of heads at the gym. Some of his fuck bros will be there, and they’ll each steal a glance at his perfect, cuntable ass – never knowing that the bro two machines down is doing and thinking the same thing. His dick will spike, his thoughts will turn from lifting to fucking, and Mark will just need to light one little spark – a quick flash of his bare ass, a wink and an air-kiss while bro’s off-guard, an earnest praising of a bro’s gym-honed body – and the bro of his choice will be in the toilets or the sauna of the jacuzzi giving Mark the androphilic pleasure he craves.
Mark loves the power he has over his boys. And it is power. Even when Mark plays the bottom or the sub or the slut, he is always in control. Any power a bro has is borrowed, never owned. Mark would never let himself become a man’s victim.
Either way, you can’t blame my boy for showing off.
Mark’s first meeting with Bruno at Sparta was an unforgettable experience. He got one of the best fuckings he could remember. He was left hunched over in the sauna, splayed and cummy and sweating; head mince from being in bottom-space. He’d assumed Bruno’s dick was off-limits – a strange thing for my boi to assume. But so spectacular was Bruno that Mark truly believed himself unworthy. But not so. Now, he and Bruno are regular fuck buds.
Mark loves spending a Saturday night at Bruno’s penthouse pad. The bro is 40, Brazilian, and a total top. Total top. The type of gay dude who won’t even let himself be rimmed. Which is a pity, cause that hunk has an ass worthy of worship. Almost as nice as Mark’s.
Almost.
Mark’s still recovering from Bruno’s first dicking down of the evening. He’s smoking a joint trying to relax, psyching himself up for round two. Cause Bruno always comes back for round two. Poppers will help. Though against a thirty minute, 2nd load pounding from Bruno’s 9-inch Brazilian cunter, poppers might be a necessity.
Out on the balcony, he gives Mark a little glimpse of what he can’t have. What’s off-limits. Bruno likes his cheeky little teases. He knows Mark’s desperate to get his tongue in there, if not his cock. But Bruno hates it. He’s pretty toxic, to be honest. Thinks bottoming is for lesser men. Cocksucking too. It’s beneath him. Doesn’t bother Mark. He makes room in his life for all his beautiful bros. Tops, bottoms, givers, takers, the selfish, the selfless – Mark begrudges none of them. Bruno waggles his butt back and forth, snaps a little wink to Mark, then comes back in to fuck him silly with his huge Brazilian dick.
Dustin and Chase. Two of Mark’s regular suck jobs who have no clue about each other’s little secret. They all know Mark’s gay though, and are easy and open about it. They’re modern men – homophobia’s sus, dude!
Mark loves it when they’re in together, cause they just get so fucking bro-y.
“Marky really has some fucking cake, though, Jesus!” says Dustin as Mark bends down to do his dumbbell rows.
“Yeah, dude,” says Chase. “Wish my girl had an ass that thicc.” He gets in close to Mark, presses his crotch up against Mark’s hole, and spank’s him. He backs off in a rush, groping his junk, tongue sticking out, and laughing. Dustin joins him. The bros think this is so fucking funny.
“You, eh, bottom though, right?” says Dustin, as he too gets in close to Mark and pets his ass.
“Well yeah, bro,” says Mark. “Look at my ass.”
“Good fucking point,” says Chase. “That’d be a crime against gay dudes everywhere if you didn’t bottom.”
“Exactly,” says Mark.
Both men are just freely pawing at his ass.
“Things alright at home, boys?” says Mark.
Everyone laughs and goes back to working out.
Mark heads to the toilet, and finds himself cornered by Chase. No preamble, they find themselves in Mark’s favorite toilet stall, making out. Chase gropes his ass freely now. Before long, Mark’s on his knees taking Chase’s hard dick to the hilt.
They return to the floor; Chase relaxed, Mark heated. He wipes the remnants of cum from his lips as they find Dustin again.
“Playing battleshits, guys?” he says.
“Eh, yeah,” says Chase.
Mark winks at Chase from behind Dustin’s back, fully knowing he’d have Dustin in the same stall later that day.
