Training Lust

'Come on, man! You can do it! Give it to me, baby, come on, give me all you've got!'

I glanced up at my trainer feeling a mixture of desire and hatred. I desired him totally, because he was so fucking hot. And I hated him for what he was doing to me.

The incredible pain I was going through was caused by him. It was all his fault. Of course I'd asked for it, not realizing what a masochistic thing it was to do.

When I'd asked my friend who looked great how he'd gotten his body in such good shape, he raved about his trainer, who he said had turned everything around for him.

Inquiring further, I got the trainer's name and phone number. One call on the phone was all it took. The guy was nice, friendly, easy to talk to. He even agreed to train me for free, seeing as I was such a good friend of his favorite client's.

If only I'd known what I was in for.

'Don't be a little wimp, dude, come on, I know you can do better than that!'

I'd worked out more or less regularly since high school, and considered myself in decent shape, but nothing could have compared me for the torture that Marc would put me through.

And it's not like I'm into pain, or anything. I know some guys are, and they'd be happy as a pig in shit if Marc got a hold of them.

But he didn't.

He had a hold of me.

And I thought I was going to lose my fucking mind.

He was maddening to be around, so good-looking and such a taskmaster at the same time. From the moment I saw him, I thought, Oh God this can't be him, I'll be spending all our time together staring at him and imagining all kinds of wild sexual things.

I should've known Marc had encountered that a lot before and knew just how to counteract it. Work 'em and work 'em hard. I'd never worked out harder in my life. Marc totally changed my life, altering the foods I ate, designing exercise program after exercise program for me, taking total and complete charge of my health and fitness.

It was wonderful, I knew -- what he was doing for me normally cost guys hundreds and hundreds of dollars, so I kept my mouth shut.

'One more set, come on, I know you can do one more set, it's only fifteen reps, I know you can do it! You don't want all the guys here to think you're a weakling, do you?'

But he was so hard to be around! So good-looking, so hot, and yet so arrogant and cocky that I wanted to smack him upside the head. Well, why shouldn't he be? He was one of the top trainers in the city, and he knew it.

He had every right to act the way he did.

But it didn't make him any easier to deal with. The fact that he was so knowledgeable and such a fucking expert at what he did made it all the more infuriating.

Every day we trained I would take in his image: dark skin from a mix of black and Hispanic blood, short jet-black hair that perfectly framed his beautiful cover-boy face, sparkling white teeth, an absolutely stunning body, every muscle developed and toned to the perfect degree, his skin smooth and hairless as a baby's, round succulent butt-cheeks, each one a mouth-watering handful...and the way he carried himself, proud, strong, confident, even pompous -- a perfect body amid so many merely beautiful bodies.

'Pump it, man, pump it! Give me one more, come on, give it to me, give it to me, give me all you've got!'

Now it wasn't that he would see me lying on the floor, and then say something like 'Just one more set, man, I know you can do it.'

Fuck you I'd want to say, but didn't, and got up to dutifully follow my trainer's directive. After all, he was the expert, right? He was the one with the degree in health and nutrition and the body that every gay guy in the city lusted after and the hourly rate higher than any other trainer, wasn't he?

Yeah, and it didn't make it any easier to take his prodding and poking, his needling and cajoling, his remarks that rode the border between serious and sarcastic.

I had to do something.

I knew I couldn't let it go on like this.

Something about his training was demeaning me, making me feel less than a man. Somehow this guy who I had never known before a few months ago was invading my dreams at night, making me feel like a pathetic worm next to him, reducing my confidence and self-esteem to nothing as every day he broke my ego down in front of the mirrors at the gym, stripping away my defenses until all that was left was my pure naked self, just waiting to get abused by him.

No Army drill sergeant could've worked me or pushed me as much as Marc did. And I was no softy either, that was the killer. No one else could get to me like this trainer did. I knew I was a serious piece of manmeat -- 5'11', 175 pounds, pale Norwegian skin, short light brown hair, my facial structure a mixture of my mother's delicate beauty and my father's gruff masculinity.

Anyone's else insults and jibes would just roll down my back. I didn't justify anyone's digs at me, because I was hot and I knew it. But Marc...something about him made it impossible for me to do that. Somehow I just took everything he had to give, letting him goad me and prod me until I felt like exploding in anger. But he had been nice enough not to ask me to pay him, so I just took it from him, took his bullshit like I had never taken anyone's before. I'd have knocked their block off sooner than take the crap I took from Marc.

But still I took it.

And took it.

And took it -- his constant stream of verbal abuse, his killer good looks and the horrifically hard training he was putting me through all combining to drive me absolutely out of my fucking mind.

Day after day, night after night, session after session.

Until something snapped.

It was late at night when it happened. Marc was friends with the guys that owned the gym, so they let him and his clients use the facility after hours sometimes. We were alone in the place, which had closed hours before. Even the janitors had finished their rounds and were gone. It was just him and me, alone in that huge building. Every clank of equipment and every word we said echoed back and forth between the concrete walls.

And I wasn't going to take any more bullshit from Marc.

I had just finished three sets of bench-presses, and I felt like I was made of KY. My arms felt loose and flabby, I didn't know how I could do any more. It was the end of a long day that had been hard enough before coming here and getting reamed out by my asshole trainer.

Marc had been particularly vicious that night, calling me wimp and pussy and weakling when I didn't perform up to his standards. I was just about to blow my top. My temper's fuse was so short I didn't know what I'd do if he pushed me any further.

Whatever I did, it wouldn't be pretty.

'Come on, pussy.' Marc said, standing over me with his arms folded. 'One more set. You can do it.'

I jumped to my feet, seeing red like a bull in a rodeo. With both hands I shoved him away from me, and he fell backwards against the mirrored wall.

'I can do it, all right!' I snarled. 'But I'm not gonna do another set, all I'm gonna do is you!'

'What the hell are you doing?' he shouted.

'I told you what I'm doing!' I said, fury making my voice sound like a madman's. 'I'm sick of your fucking bullshit, and now I'm gonna take it out of your ass!'

'You're out of your fucking mind!' Marc said, but his eyes had widened in fear.

'You got that right.' I said as I lunged at him, covering the distance between us in seconds. Grabbing his arm, I pulled him up to his feet and hurled him across the room. He tripped over a pile of weights and crashed to the floor again.

I don't know where my sudden strength came from. Seconds before I'd been totally tired out, but now -- the intensity of my rage must have been driving me, finding new reserves of energy to fuel my attack on my tormentor.

'I've taken your crap for three months, Marc!' I yelled at him. 'I'm not taking any more! Tonight you're gonna pay for what you've been putting me through!' I lunged for him again.

'You can't do this, Ryan!' he said as he tried to scramble out of my way.

'Oh yeah? Watch me!'

I tackled him, jumping on top of him and holding him down with my heavier weight. He struggled beneath me, my cock hardening as it felt him through the fabric of our gym clothes. Being so close to him for so long, being at such close intimate range with him for all this time without ever touching him, had started a fever in my blood that had reached the boiling point.

'You're a fucking asshole, man!' I screamed down at him as I held him in place. 'Who in the hell do you think you are? What makes you think you can treat people this way?'

He maneuvered himself so he was on his back, his gorgeous face looking up at me.

'I don't treat people this way, Ryan,' he said. 'I just treat you this way.'

Roaring with rage, I slapped Marc across the face as hard as I could. His head flew to one side from the impact, but when he turned back towards me, he was grinning.

It was a sultry, sexy grin.

A grin that made an already attractive face heartbreakingly beautiful, even with a hand print on one cheek.

It was a grin that said fuck me.

'Oh, you goddamn cocktease!' I yelled. 'You're finally gonna get what you deserve!' I fumbled with the elastic band of my shorts, yanking them down so hard I ripped the fabric.

My erect dick popped out, poised and ready for action.

Straddling Marc's body with my own, I grabbed the back of his head and slammed my cock into his mouth.

He didn't try to resist me, he just lay there and let me do what I wanted to with him.

'Suck my big dick, you fucking asshole!' I commanded him, and obediently his mouth started working me, stroking and massaging my organ with his tongue and the inside of his mouth.

My trainer's eyes rolled back in his head and then closed, his whole concentration on my hard dick. I glanced behind me and was amazed to see his shorts being tented by his own erect member. Somehow his fear was alternating with excitement, switching back and forth and mixing together.

'You little fucker,' I said, hardly believing my eyes. 'You get off on this, don't you? You've probably been pushing me on purpose, pushing me so hard you knew I'd snap and just take you like I'm doing now!'

Marc didn't answer, his mouth stuffed with cock and his eyes clenched shut.

'You've worked me harder than I've ever been worked before, well now I'm gonna fuck you harder than you've ever been fucked, you bastard!'

My balls were churning, the jizz within heating up as my dick got a hot workout in Marc's mouth. It was so fucking hot, whatever else I could say about him, this man had one talented mouth. He swirled his tongue all around the cut ridge of my organ, stimulating every single nerve with delirious pleasure.

I could've cum right then and there, shooting my load down my trainer's throat, but then it'd be over.

I wasn't going to get distracted by pleasure and expel my spunk too soon. Not when I had an agenda like I did that night. Marc was going to pay for what he'd done to me, I wasn't going to let him off so easily.

I wanted to savor this, as I used him and demeaned him and made him the object of my scorn and ridicule like he'd been doing to me so long.

What he was doing was fucking awesome, probably the best blowjob I'd ever had the pleasure of receiving.

But I wasn't going to let him know that.

When had he ever praised me? When had he ever told me that I had done good? That he was happy with my progress?

Never, that's when! True, I'd seen results in my body, I had made definite strides as my musculature and strength increased under his expert training.

But that almost made it worse.

I knew I was doing good -- but my trainer never said it, never praised me. He just kept telling me to do one more set and called me names like wimp and pussy. Damn him!

Well, now I was getting my revenge, and was it sweet!

Gripping a firm handful of his luxurious hair in my hand, I forced Marc to bear down on my dick even farther.

'Come on, man,' I said. 'Can't you do any better than that? I know you got more in you than that! Make me feel good, you little cocksucker!'

I fucked his face savagely, forcing him down on me and then off, then down on me and then off, again and again, over and over. But I kept myself from cumming.

With Zen-like concentration, I willed myself not to shoot off, not to acknowledge the incredible sensations Marc's mouth was bringing to me.

I wasn't going to give him that pleasure.

At least not yet.

I stood up then, letting go of his head. He started to get up, and I shoved him back down with my foot.

'Get back down there!' I grunted at him. 'Stay on the floor, you fucking asshole. It's where you belong.'

I started stripping out of my clothes then, letting my shorts fall to the floor. I stepped out of my jockstrap and tore my shirt off over my head. Then I turned around, and shoved my ass in my trainer's face.

'Lick me, you son of a bitch. Lick my ass!'

His tongue was there in a second, burying itself between my cheeks and sending shivers of electricity through my body. It felt so fucking good.

'Goddamn you!' I said. 'Can't you do any better? Come on, you wimp, give me everything you got! I wanna feel it! Give it to me!'

Incensed by my taunting, he tried harder, licking and slurping at my asshole with all his might. I wet my hand with my tongue and stroked my hard dick a few times.

Mmmm, was that good.

But not yet.

Denied again, the cum in my ballsack boiled in anticipation -- hopefully, anxiously, desperately waiting for the moment it would be released and fly down the canal to spray out of my cockhead.

'Come on, trainer boy, you can do it, yeah, come on, don't give up, you little wimp! Work harder! Harder!'

It was heaven to torture him like that, absolute heaven. I loved it. It was the best revenge I could have. Pushing my butt back further and further, I pinned him down with my bigger weight until his head was flat on the floor.

Suddenly I flipped over, so I was facing him. I dropped down on top of him, keeping him down. With both hands I grabbed the front of his tank top and pulled. A loud ripping sound filled the gym as I tore his tank apart.

'Hey --' he started to say, but I slapped him again, hard.

'Shut up!' I yelled in his face. 'Shut the fuck up! Just keep your goddamn fucking mouth shut! I've heard enough from you. We're gonna do things my way now, whether you like it or not!'

Tossing aside what was left of his top, I grabbed the front of his shorts and yanked them down. Marc stopped fighting me then, slipping out of them obediently. Too revved up to care about his shoes, I let him keep those on.

But not his jockstrap. No way! One yank of my fist and it was history. But that gave me an idea...

I picked up my own discarded jock off the floor and brought it up to my trainer's face.

'Smell it, Marc.' I said. 'Smell what you do to me, what you've been doing to me for months. Smell it!' He inhaled deeply, sucking in the rank scent of my exertion.

Seeing that made my skin flush with blood. But I wanted more, so I stuffed my jockstrap in his mouth.

'You better keep that in there, man,' I said in a warning voice. 'I've heard enough out of you today. That'll keep you shut up.'

Now we were both naked, and I couldn't help but pause for a second to admire the incredible beauty of the man I was tormenting. He was every bit as flawless with his clothes off -- his gorgeous hairless skin, his wonderful muscles, his full hard cock...he lay at my feet like a sacrificial victim in a horror movie, laying there waiting to be taken by the monster...

...to be taken by me.

The time had come.

The time was now.

I reached down and grabbed him under the armpits, yanking him up to his feet. Then I shoved him over to the bench press that he'd been working me on before.

I pushed him stomach-down on the bench, so his luscious butt was facing me, his asshole winking up at me like a twinkling star in the sky.

The frenzy in my blood was at a fever pitch now.

It was time to do what I'd dreamed, wanted and desired since Marc had first started training me and making me the object of his abuse.

'I've waited a long time for this, Marc,' I said. 'Now, for once, you're going to be my pussyboy!'

And I fell on top of him, pinning him to the bench with my weight. Guiding my rigid cock, I found the magic spot between his ass-cheeks and slid inside him. My trainer screamed, the jockstrap shoved in his mouth only partially obscuring the sound.

'Go ahead and yell, pussyboy,' I said. 'There's no one to hear you.'

Marc struggled, but I wrapped my arms around him and held him close, like I would a lover. But I didn't love him.

I hated him.

Didn't I?

Or did I?

Did it matter?

Anchoring my feet on the floor, I started fucking him properly, shoving myself in and out of him with a vengeance. It was terrifying and wonderful at the same time. Part of me was shocked, appalled at what I was capable of doing. But this man had pushed me further than anyone deserved to be pushed. He had to be punished for what he'd done. The rest of me was delighted, ecstatic at the savagery of my actions, the pure carnal lust with which I was taking this man, whether he wanted to be taken or not.

Fucking Marc was an awesome experience. My thoughts and imaginations about it were nothing compared to the real thing. And the fact that he was moaning and squirming beneath me made it all the more electrifying. And the fact that I was fucking him on the same bench that he'd used to torture me so many times was fucking mind-blowing!

'Come on, pussyboy,' I snarled at him. 'Can't you do better than that?! I know this is what you live for. Throwing your legs up in the air like some little whore! Well, you're my whore tonight, and you're not getting away 'til I'm done with you!'

Something was changing.

Something about what was happening was shifting, metamorphosing into something else. What was happening?

When I realized what it was, I could hardly believe it -- but it was true.

Marc was loving every second of this!

His moans and groans had changed from mixed fear and excitement to total abandon and lust! He was getting off on this just as much as I was. The little fucker.

Leave it to Marc to change getting assaulted into the hottest sex of his life. But I didn't care, because my dick was getting the best ride it had ever had.

His whole body was so hot it felt like it was on fire. I couldn't hold back anymore. It was time to finish this.

'Come on, you motherfucker,' I said as I raped his hole. 'Give me everything, give me all of it, give it up to me you goddamn cocksucking son of a bitch!'

Marc's head arched back, and his body heaved. As it did I saw him slip his hand under himself. He must have taken ahold of his dick, because his whole body started quivering and shaking. I knew he was jerking himself off, but I didn't care.

I was too far gone.

'From now on you're my pussyboy, Marc, have you got that?' I yelled. He nodded his head rapidly to show he understood. 'I'm not taking any more shit from you. What I am going to take is you, wherever and whenever I want you. Is that clear?' He nodded again, frantically. We were both seconds away from cumming. 'From now on, I do three sets, and that's it! I'm never doing four again. You're never going to say 'one more set' to me, got it?'

'Yes, Ryan!' he yelled, the jockstrap muffling his words.

'You're never going to treat me like a piece of shit again! You're going to treat me with the respect and courtesy you should treat everyone with, especially one of your clients, whether he's paying you or not, you snot-nosed punk! Is that clear?'

'Yes, Ryan!' he yelled again.

'Now you're gonna take my cum, and thank me for it!'

The ecstasy overflowed inside me, and I grabbed Marc's hips with both hands as my dick machine-gunned into him. Jizz shot out of me with the force of a hurricane, the long-frustrated cum super-heating like volcanic lava. I roared with passion and primal release. As I did, I felt my trainer's body shudder beneath me, and I knew he was shooting too, oozing his load out onto the bench.

I expelled my seed into him, holding him tightly in place so he couldn't escape, even if he'd wanted to. Only when we had both drained our ballsacks, and were panting trying to catch our breaths, did I let go of him.

Marc slid off the bench, falling onto the floor like the mass of jelly I had felt like before. I leaned over him and yanked my jockstrap out of his mouth, then I put my clothes back on.

The whole time I did this, he just lay there, breathing heavily, not moving. When I got myself together, I went and picked up one of the janitor's brooms that was leaning against the wall. I tossed it at Marc, and it clattered to the floor next to him.

'Better clean up that mess, weakling.' I said, gesturing at the puddle of cum on the bench. 'Don't want to get in trouble with the management.'

Figuring I'd had enough of a workout for the night, I headed for the gym's exit. In the open doorway, I glanced back over my shoulder at the man I had just fucked.

'Same time tomorrow.' I said.

'Yes, Sir.' Marc said weakly.

Now that was more like it!

I walked out into the night, letting the door slam behind me and leaving my trainer lying on the floor of the gym, alone with his thoughts.