Summary
In a world with superpowers and superheroes, not even the most peaceful, quiet and sleepiest of cities are safe from threats.
This is the case for Clear Lake, a little quaint city that, together with their own superhero Gravitas, is plagued by the presence of one of the strongest and wildest supervillains around: the fearsome Beast Master!
Or at least, this is what the villain thinks.
Without his knowledge, the rest of the city is not that scared of the loud and hunky supervillain, after all: why should you be scared when said supervillain is actually a himbo?
Many people were breathless when they first saw the “Wicked gains” gym. When they heard the name they imagined a building, perhaps an old industrial warehouse repurposed into a gym, with locker rooms and a main area with workout equipment and tools inside. A large and spacious place but no more so than others. But it would have been more correct to liken it to a real Olympic sports village: the gym spanned several buildings, with each area dedicated to individual different sports, including an indoor swimming pool and a whole area of sports fields, whether they were for basketball, soccer, tennis and more, even the outdoor area was interspersed with patches where, if one wanted, one could train during the warm weather, even getting some sun and breathing in the fresh air. Among the individual attractions was also a building devoted to martial arts, with special rooms with mirrors and tatami mats, and an entire floor dedicated to boxing and wrestling. Finally then there was also the first area, immediately after the entrance and reception counter, dedicated solely to those who wanted to work out, with weight-lifting benches, treadmills, gymnastic wall bars and more.
And all of this was easily accessible with a basically insignificant membership fee not to mention the many offers that were given to those who could not afford it and the events organized periodically and open to all.
In short, a real safe place, but few knew that a dark secret was hidden behind this impervious facade, and evil brooded within those walls, ready to strike...
§§§§§
It was early in the morning and “Wicked gains” had not yet opened its doors, however, activity was already buzzing inside. In the main hall, half a dozen of the gym's personal trainers were busy finishing their daily workouts, some focused on completing their routines, others chatting with colleagues, and still others cheering each other on. In particular, a fair crowd was gathered around a large man lying on a bench, his muscles darting as he moved the weights up and down, the veins evident on his neck, his lips from which only animalistic grunts came out as around him the other employees chanted “Boss, boss, boss, boss...”
Finally he lifted the weighted bar one last time and with a roar secured it on the hooks, being celebrated with a roar of joy, the man sitting up and flexing his muscles in front of his chest, shouting, “Let's go! Fuck yeah!” then standing up and high-fiving everyone else while laughing out loud, even going so far as to grab one of them and clutch his head in a head-lock, his hand going to friendly muss up his hair.
The giant was approached by another man, perhaps in his early twenties, his sandy hair all tousled and his face covered with freckles, who quickly handed him his water bottle and towel: “For you, boss.”
“Thanks, man - he took the pair and ran the towel through his short dark brown hair before downing a greedy swig of the energy drink, his golden eyes going to examine the guy who had handed him his stuff - Aaaah, that's the stuff! You're Dustin, aren'tcha? The new guy.”
The young man felt his cheeks flush with happiness as he stammered, “Y-yes, boss! D-Dustin at your service!”
“Fuck yeah, bro, gimme five! - and raised his hand being reciprocated weakly by the young man, who was sure he was about to faint from happiness-I saw you earlier at the rope, you're a fucking squirrel! Keep it up and you'll do great things, I assure you!” and gave him one last wink before walking away, giving him a manly slap on the ass as a reward for his hard work, leaving behind a Dustin who had to sit down somewhere, his head lightly spinning, a dumbfounded grin on his face from the euphoria of having just been recognized by his personal idol.
The man paused in front of the mirror and looked at himself, moving and flexing his muscles to make sure he had a complete view as he critically judged his own accomplishments: with his height approaching two meters, broad shoulders and powerful muscles, Manuel Davila could safely say he had reached the pinnacle of physical fitness. The man turned around again and flexed his arms, his muscles bulging, his tight black T-shirt with the gym's logo, the neon green outline of a roaring bear, stretched so tightly over his mighty physique that he feared he would rip it off - and that's where he would get a good scolding from one of the girls in the secretary's office, since it would be the third pair that month that ended that way and they weren't exactly cheap -, the sweaty fabric clinging like a second skin, perfectly outlining not only his sculpted abs but also his gigantic pecs and hard nipples. The shorts wrapped two hairy legs as thick as tree trunks, sweat stains gathering in the area of his ass, round and inviting, the perfect balance of soft and muscular, running down the crack. The man smiled, teeth standing out against his bronze skin, his square face covered by a slight stubble, before running a hand through his dark brown hair, shaved at the sides and left long over in a faux hawk. The 30-year-old turned and flexed his butt muscles, looking smugly over his shoulder and casting a wink at his own reflection.
He took out his cell phone and was on the verge of taking a selfie in the mirror in that exact position, perhaps even slightly lowering the elastic of his shorts so that his jockstrap and part of his butt could be seen, to send to a certain someone, confident that he would appreciate it, when the ringtone went off, causing half of the newcomers to jerk, who looked at each other confused for a second, wondering where the Dragon Ball theme song was coming from.
The personal trainer turned and answered the call, exclaiming cheerfully in his deep voice, “You've reached Manny. Yello?”
“Manuel! Where the hell are you?”
The voice on the other end was similar to a hiss, and the man could hear all the urgency and ill-concealed annoyance it expressed.
He frowned as he walked away, entering one of the locker rooms dedicated to employees so he would have some privacy, “Archie? Woah, dude, what's up? Did we have a meeting for today?”
“Yeah, you two-legged walking oaf! Today is the day of the plan.”
The man shook his head, convinced, “Nah, you're wrong, Archie. The plan is scheduled for this Thursday.”
Silence fell and it went on for so long that Manuel was sure the line had dropped, “Archie? You there, bro?”
“Manny?”
“Yes?”
“You know I love you, right?”
“Aww, bro, thanks. I love you too!”
“But that doesn't change the fact that you are THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF ALL TIME! Today is Thursday, you moron!”
Manuel frowned and raised his hand as he repeated the jingle to remind himself of the days of the week, before raising his ring finger and widening his eyes in panic, “Oh no”
“Oh yes”
“Oh no, Archie: today is Thursday!”
“Yes!”
“Today we have to carry out the plan!”
“That's what I've been trying to tell you for half an hour!” exclaimed his deputy in exasperation on the other end of the phone.
Manuel hurriedly approached his locker, “Listen, I'm at the gym, you start all the operations and I'll join you as soon as possible.”
“I hope so. And don't waste time on useless things!” and closed the call.
Cursing through his teeth, Manuel pulled out his things. Costume, mask, yes it all seemed to be there. Practically hopping on one leg, he simultaneously took off his shorts, T-shirt and sneakers, remaining only wearing a pair of socks and his jockstrap in the same colors as the gym - a product that customers could buy for a modest price - and grabbed the shower gel. Now he just had to take a shower and....
He froze as he remembered Archie's angry words advising him not to waste any more time. Did he then mean no shower? But he had to take a shower, he hated wearing his suit when he was all sweaty, it would start to stink right away, and he didn't want to walk around in a stinky suit!
Maybe he wasn't so bad though, he thought as he lifted his arm and took a quick sniff under his armpit before shifting his face with a snort. No, he definitely needed a shower, there was nothing to be done.
At that moment he also felt a discomfort, as if the jocstrap had suddenly become one size too tight, and he lowered his gaze, before letting out a groan: and now he had even gotten a hard-on, what the fuck!
He had to take care of that otherwise he wouldn't be able to concentrate for the rest of the day, but he also had to find a way to wash himself quickly!
What the fuck was he going to do?!
At that moment the door opened and a hesitant voice exclaimed, “Boss? Is everything all right? Me and the guys saw you come in and we were worried, is something wrong?”
Manuel turned around and saw three men standing still in the doorway, all three dressed in “Wicked Gains” T-shirts, watching him worriedly.
The man recognized them instantly: on the left, black-brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and a leaner, snappier physique, was Justin, the swimming teacher; next to him, who had spoken, was Brandon one of the boxing class instructors, dark and imposing, his black curls pulled back in dreads; closing the trio was Lee, the chubbiest of the group, shaved head and blond beard, who oversaw all the weight workouts.
They had been among the first men he and Archie had hired, and they had experienced so many adventures together that Manuel knew he could trust them with his own life.
For that very reason he lit up, knowing that the answer had just dropped in front of him.
Because after all, he didn't need to wash himself completely, all he had to do was remove the sweat and that was it! Then he could quickly take care of his other problem, but that would be dealt with later.
He snapped his fingers and motioned for them to come closer, “You three! Come here, now.”
His men immediately snapped, approaching the imposing mountain of muscle still half-naked that was their boss, not at all disturbed, though, by his state. The closer they got, however, the more they could sense the heat emanating from the other, as well as the intense, penetrating smell of sweat that surrounded him like a cloud. Instantly they unintentionally began to pant as they felt their pants getting tighter, their eyes unable to tear themselves away from his body made shiny by a coating of sweat.
With difficulty they managed to bring their attention back to the words the chief was directing at them, “So, I forgot that the plan was scheduled for today, so Archie scolded me by telling me to go to the lair right away, but not to be late. The problem is that I'm all sweaty, and you know I don't like to walk around sweaty in my suit! A shower would waste too much of my time, so I need your help.”
He leaned forward and removed his jockstrap, showing off his semi-hard cock that instantly attracted the attention of the three. Manuel raised his arms and put his hands behind his head, exposing his fur-covered armpits and darting his pecs, which danced in place, “Justin, Lee, you are on top. Brandon, you are on backside duty, everything clear?”
“O-on it, boss!” exclaimed the three men unable to hold back the desire that seeped into every word, before approaching with their hearts in their throats and taking their positions. Justin and Lee flanked him while Brandon knelt and then sat down and slid with a lump in his throat between the open legs of his boss until he found himself with his back pressed against the lockers behind them.
The two athletic trainers still standing exchanged a glance, barely managing to look at each other from beyond the giant pair of man-boobs between them, before nodding, ready to meet their boss's needs.
They were his henchmen, and they would follow Manuel to the ends of the earth if he asked them to!
Lee was the first to take courage in his own hands and act. Clinging to Manuel's shoulder with one hand while the other went to support himself on his chest, he brought his face closer, having to lift himself up on his toes to reach his armpit properly. He felt his legs trembling as he inhaled the man's aphrodisiac smell, his cock throbbing in his shorts before his nose came in contact with his sweaty skin, burying itself in the thick fur. He took a deep breath and felt his inhibitions leave him, his tongue automatically coming out and taking to licking the man's armpit, reveling in his manly scent, his beard covering itself with his scent and causing a faint chuckle to escape the other man's lips. As if in an automatic response, the hand that was resting on his pecs tightened and took to groping him, the fingers going to touch and play with his nipples in an almost possessive manner.
Hearing that his friend had started and not wanting to be outdone so as not to embarrass himself in front of the boss, Justin also got busy. Instead of leaning on Manuel's upper body, his hands went to his hips, and immediately began with a direct approach, with his tongue out licking the area all around the bush of hair. The boss had said that he was in a hurry, so the swimming instructor's idea was to leave quick, precise strokes so that he would be quick and efficient and get praised by him, but his plan failed as soon as he inhaled a deep mouthful of his sweat, and within seconds he began to leave deep, sloppy licks, covering the personal trainer's skin with spit, trying to cover as much area as possible, repeatedly going over several spots he already went through and even going so far as to pause often to inhale Manuel's aroma thoroughly, his hand taking to caressing his granitic abs before moving down and wrapping itself around his boss's cock, slowly taking to moving up and down and jerking him off, the pre and cum flowing down his shaft making the man's grip slippery.
Meanwhile, Brandon stood still and watched in awe at the breathtaking sight of Manuel's ass in front of him, jerking and wiggling, dancing hypnotically in front of his eyes. It was so perfect that the man lost himself in studying with an analytical eye the fruit of so many hours spent training, while inside he made the solemn decision to increase his squat hours so he could achieve the same result. The more he watched the more, however, something inside him stirred, and suddenly he felt an urgent hunger take hold inside his chest, the musky smell coming from the rear of his boss that was even more intense than what his colleagues upstairs were experiencing. He reached out his hands in an almost reverent manner and placed them around his buttocks, squeezing them and assaying under his fingers its firmness, moving them up and down and watching them jiggle in front of his eyes. He would have stayed watching them all day if he had not been abruptly brought back down to earth by a guttural cry that came out of Manuel's mouth. Mistaking it for urgency and remembering the warning he had given them before they started, Brandon was caught up in the rush and, without a second thought, lunged forward, his face slapping against Manuel's firm ass cheeks, ready to get busy, but just then he was hit full force by the pungent smell emanating from the jock's skin and his brain short-circuited. Within seconds he found himself licking, sucking and kissing him, his hands taking and squeezing his flesh, occasionally delivering mighty slaps that echoed through the empty locker room. At one point, with much effort, he managed to separate them and saw his hole winking at him. Without even thinking about it he lunged forward with his face, burying himself between the two mountains of flesh, taking to kissing and sucking his entrance, his tongue out and stroking it, stimulating it.
At first, Manuel had tried to stay focused, to think that he had to hurry, but the more he felt the soft tongues of his mates against his skin the more he felt his head spinning, giggles, moans, and grunts of pleasure escaping his lips. He tried at one point to open his mouth to tell them to stop and focus on their task, that he had no time to waste, but just then he felt Brandon's tongue go beyond his barrier and penetrate his sensitive hole . A moan of pure pleasure escaped from his throat, his arms lowering and pressing Lee's and Justin's faces against him, his hips bucking back, knocking his ass out and trapping Brandon where he was, almost preventing him from breathing.
The mouths of the three of them took to work furiously, Lee's hands not letting go of the darting pecs, Brandon fucking him with his tongue, and Justin not letting go of his grip on the cock, his hand now moving fast, making Manuel gasp.
Within seconds the personal trainer came, shooting ropes after ropes of white cum that covered the locker room floor, the other three grunting unable to form coherent sentences.
As everything cleared up in the post-orgasm peace suddenly Manuel straightened up, releasing his three employees. Lee and Justin fell down to sit beside their friend, their legs no longer holding them up, their faces completely covered in sweat, an identical grin of dazed pleasure on all three of their faces, and the red tips of their cocks peeping out from beyond the waistband of their shorts.
Manny cursed a couple of times and picked up his backpack, “I'm late, I can't waste any more time! That's good, thank you very much for your help guys, now clean up things here and I'll entrust you with the gym. See ya!” and, still naked, he hurried out of the locker room, heading for his private studio from where he could join Archie.
Left alone, the three coaches took a good minute before they fully recovered. As they looked at each other they realized that they weren't going anywhere until they had taken care of their “little problem,” the smell of Manuel's sweat still present like a fume hood in the locker room.
“So what do we do with these?” asked Lee as he took to palming his erection.
“Well, if it's the three of us, I'd say Brandon can take care of it, right?” asked Justin turning toward his friend, his hand already going to touch his leg, shivering at the other's muscles.
“Hell no! The last few times I was always the top, this time it's Lee's turn!”
“Forget it man, I need to feel someone inside me, I don't want to be the top today,” complained the friend.
The three of them would have continued to argue for hours on end, concluding absolutely nothing, had it not been for the fact that at that moment the door opened and a tentative voice reached them, “S-sorry, are you all right? I-I saw the boss come out all weird and I thought... What the fuck happened here?!”
The attention of the three turned to the newcomer, a young man with sandy-colored hair and covered in freckles who was watching them with wide eyes. They watched each other for a couple of seconds in silence before their attention went to the young man's shorts, which were slowly beginning to rise as in his panic he inhaled more and more of the smell of sweat and sex that lingered in the room.
The three looked at each other and smiled as they slowly stood up. It was Brandon who spoke, “Hey you, you're Dustin, right?”
“Y-yes, sir, I'm Dustin,” stammered the blond as he tried to look anywhere but in the direction of the three men in front of him, muscular and covered in sweat and with a strange light in their eyes.
Brandon smiled and then, under Dustin's disbelieving gaze, the three turned at the same time and knelt down, leaning their chests against one of the benches, presenting their asses to him, their hands going to lower their shorts and exposing their backsides to the other, different but equally solid and inviting, framed by three different jockstraps.
“How about lending a hand to a couple of your seniors? The spirit of the 'Wicked Gains' is always to help comrades in need. Are you ready to do your part, rookie?” asked Brandon, his hands going to touch the behinds of his buddies at his side, his fingers reaching down and grazing their entrances and making them moan like bitches in heat, while in turn he moved his hips slightly, making his own buttocks bump against those of his friends in an inviting sound.
In response Dustin swallowed, reached over and pulled down his shorts.
§§§§§
Archie walked back and forth in front of the elevator, his hands behind his back, cursing in a low voice at his boss's sloppiness. From time to time some of their men, curious, would look out to see where the noise they kept hearing was coming from, except to retreat immediately, not wanting to draw the deputy's anger upon themselves.
The young man paused and took a deep breath to calm his nerves, before raising his wrist and taking a quick glance at the time. Compared to the other members of their organization, burly big men who gave the impression that they could bend steel with their bare hands, Archie was nothing much, a simple young man in his early thirties, his facial features and skin betraying his mother's Filipino origins, his black hair kept long and usually slicked back by hair gel. He was currently wearing his uniform, a simple dark blue tight shirt with purple and white hexagons as decorations, baggy black pants and two combat boots. His dark eyes were covered by a pair of aviator goggles with yellow lenses, and a studded belt completed the look.
Despite the petite appearance that disappeared in front of those mountains that were his colleagues, no one dared to contradict the deputy of the evil association “Bear Pack” - no one had had the heart to tell the boss that bears were solitary animals and that they did not form packs like wolves when, with eyes full of excitement, he had proposed the name, receiving instead only nods of assent and half-smiles -: first because he was probably the smartest person in the entire group, second because he was in fact the one who kept the entire lair from collapsing on their heads. It was Archie who kept them on track when they crossed the line, and again he was in charge of all the logistics behind carrying out their plans. They were all grateful to him and reminded him repeatedly, especially the boss.
Just then a “DING” was heard echoing and the man turned, seeing the doors opening. Archie crossed his arms in front of his chest and huffed a simple, “It's about time, can you tell where you've been?”
An immense figure emerged from the elevator, tall and muscular, wearing a tight sleeveless shirt showing off arms covered with scratches and scars, giant hands covered by fingerless gloves, defined abs and powerful pecs pressing against the elastic fabric, the same dark blue as the other, violet decorations of animal claws decorating it, giving him an even more dangerous look. He wore leather overpants of the same color and shorts that barely contained all his bulk, with what appeared to be for all intents and purposes a zipper going from the back to the front, cutting them in two. Combat boots, a chocker and studded bracelets around his biceps made his figure even more unsettling.
“Sorry dude, I got here as fast as I could,” sighed Manuel as he donned the black mask with marks like fangs running down to his cheekbones, thus covering his eyes and upper face, concealing his identity and leaving behind the super-criminal who had been terrorizing the city for years: Beast Master.
Archie, code name Beta - and each time the man made it clear that he had not chosen the name himself but that it had been forced on him and that he hated it from the bottom of his heart, always making sure, however, that Manny was not within earshot since he was the one who had insisted that he use it -, only nodded as he walked alongside him and the two of them headed for the command room, walking through the sterile corridors and passing the various staff members who stopped to give him a greeting, being reciprocated with a nod of the head and a triumphant smile from the supervillain.
The Bear Pack's secret lair was hidden below the city in a system of tunnels, underground passages and giant halls. The place could be reached either from an entrance located on the side of a mountain in private and artfully hidden terrain, or from several entrances from the “Wicked Gains” gym, accessible only by the staff and only with one's biometric data. Mostly “The Den”, the official name of their base, consisted of a few large rooms, often community places such as the canteen or barracks for sleeping or training or the armory, connected by wide corridors, which centered on the “Arena”, the command room for all of their operations.
The two men entered and, from the top of a platform, Beast Master looked at the screens that decorated the walls, projecting images of their targets, complicated graphs and numerical sequences that followed one another at a dizzying speed, giving the man a headache, who instead focused downward. Beneath them stretched rows and rows of computers and other machines that Manny in his head simply classified as “complicated-looking scientific gizmos”, around which their men busied themselves, exchanging brief messages and then scurrying from one end of the room to the other, worrying that everything was ready to kick off the operation. They were all wearing the same dark blue and violet uniforms in various shapes and fashions, plus a hood that completely covered their faces, leaving only their mouths and eyes uncovered. The uniforms were differentiated by stylized decorations in various colors, all associated with the animal world.
Beast Master took a couple of steps forward and stopped in front of the handrail surrounding the platform. Noticing his imposing figure, all the men stopped and turned toward him, letting out a triumphant roar of welcome.
The supervillain sneered before raising a hand to shush them and announcing in a deep, rumbling voice, “Gentlmen, and ladies, I promise you that today is the day! Today we will finally succeed: the city will bend to our demands! For too long they have thought that they are safe, that we are nothing but a sleeping dog, only barking without ever attacking! But we will show them. Oh, if we will show them. This dog is awake and now it will bite, making its dominance felt and showing who is the top dog! And as for Gravitas - a series of “boooh!” and whistles made their way through the men - That wimpy hero won't stand a chance. Today is the day he will finally be defeated, and when he is out of the way we, the Bear Pack, will triumph! Strength and honor!”
“Strength and honor!” roared the invigorated henchmen before returning to attend to the last chores, the excitement flowing palpably among them, anxious only to put their leader's plan into action.
Silent at his side, Beta had been watching his boss's speech, rolling his eyes a bit at the clichés and hyperbole used, but not daring to intervene. Once the other had finished he stepped forward and cleared his throat, “Well, I'd say the boys are taken care of. As you can see from the screen we have our targets under surveillance. As we have calculated the opening window will go off in fifteen minutes, and then we will be ready to act. Our men are in position and just waiting for your orders. We have also ensured our guests upstairs and secured the facility in which you will face Gravitas. All we need now is... are you even listening to me?”
Beta turned, somewhere between annoyed and concerned, seeing that his boss was leaning forward, hands gripping the handrail, knuckles clenching tightly around the cold metal. Beast Master's breathing was erratic and he was shaking his head. He looked up at him and Beta noticed that his pupils were larger than normal.
“Oh no” he only thought as inside he realized what was actually happening to the other.
Immediately after the speech, Manuel had suddenly felt weak and had to lean down to keep from falling, his head spinning, his breathing suddenly heavy. He had tried to focus on his deputy's words, to follow his speech, it had seemed important after all, but these it had become only a noise in the background as a sensation of heat spread throughout his body, his throat suddenly becoming dry, an unfamiliar discomfort at the base of his back.
When he shifted his gaze to the other his golden eyes quickly passed over his face to focus instead lower, on the area of his crotch. He ran his tongue over his wet lips, lust taking hold of him as he straightened and stared at him like a predator.
Beta merely sighed, “Look, maybe we can get to a private place and...”
“No, no private place - growled the other in a low voice as he grabbed his arms with his massive hands to hold him down and let himself fall to his knees in front of him, reaching quietly to chest height even so - Here and now is fine.”
Having said this he leaned forward even more and rested his face against his crotch. At that point he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, managing to smell him even through the fabric thanks to his supersenses. He moved his face to the side and took to rubbing his cheek against his bulge, like a cat marking its territory, a moan of pure pleasure escaping from his lips combined with a trembling sigh. He remained still, basking in his scent for about ten seconds before opening his mouth and taking to sucking and leaving kisses all along the bulge, feeling the other man's cock slowly hardening under his expert mouth, tensing his pants.
Above him Archie had to hold on to his head and mighty shoulders, his legs growing weaker and weaker, his mind cursing his boss's powers. Manuel possessed a fairly common superpower, an almost animal-like physique with far greater strength, agility, endurance and senses than a normal human being. However, his hormone production was unbalanced, and his body required regular consumption of certain substances in order to maintain a semblance of sanity and intelligence, all of which could easily be found within male sperm. What most exasperated Archie, however, was the fact that when he did not consume these substances on a regular basis, his friend's body would enter a state of “withdrawal,” and his personality would undergo a sudden and radical change, making him a hunter who only wanted to get his prey. And as if that were not enough, he would become more submissive than a bitch in heat, offering his mouth and ass to whatever “ unfortunate person” happened to be in the vicinity, ready to serve and worship them, sometimes not settling for just one simple shot but continuing to use his body until his partner was completely drained of any fluid he could produce.
While he was thinking these things, Beast Master had continued to keep busy sucking him through his pants, even helping himself with his hand that had gone to grasp and grope his testicles - one of the reasons they all had such tight pants was for just that, so that the boss if he needed to could take to work right away as well -, while Archie was panting on top of him, trying to ignore the fact that they were perfectly visible to the rest of their men, who could thus watch the sight of the most dangerous super-criminal in town serving his deputy, less than half his size, as he swallowed his cock like an expert whore.
Finally Beast Master grew impatient and decided it was time to feel the real deal between his lips. With a violent motion, he lowered his pants, exposing the other man's hard cock, the tip already covered with translucent cum.
“Finally...” he whispered ecstatically as he took it in one hand and gave it a couple of strokes, feeling it throbbing under his fingers, before opening his lips and half swallowing it. A guttural cry of pleasure came out of the giant man's throat as he greedily sucked the tip of the cock, like a child with his favorite candy, Beta having barely managed to hold back a moan of pleasure at feeling the other man's wet mouth surrounding him. After ecstatically sucking and licking the tip for a good minute, Beast Master made his head go slightly forward and then stop and go backward, thus finding himself in no time blowing him, swallowing a little more of the other man's rod with each thrust, the liquid noise of his mouth at work joining the mechanical sound of the monitors and keyboards, the thugs continuing to operate beneath them. Occasionally someone would stop and stand still for a couple of seconds to admire the show they were putting on, before resuming work, the walk slightly stiffer. By now they were accustomed to such scenarios, and it had happened to all of them at least once that the boss, whether in his civilian or secret identity, had approached them and asked if he could consume their cum or give them some relief. Often, if they were at the Gym, he was a bit more discreet and they either locked themselves in a closet or went to the showers or bathrooms in the staff locker room so as not to attract anyone's attention, but when they were at the lair it was not unusual to hear the moans of Beast Master being fucked in a hallway by one of his thugs, while others gathered around, hard cocks in hand waiting their turn, and the fucking quickly turned into a gangbang in which one by one all the men deposited their loads inside their leader's hole, still tight despite all the dicks he had taken. Or another typical scene was the boss walking out of a room looking frustrated, usually because he couldn't think of any good ideas for his next evil scheme, singling out a random person, approaching him, lifting him up, and carrying him into the room, locking the door, and then presenting him with his own ass and ordering him to fuck him while he worked, saying that the physical activity would stimulate the bloodstream by bringing more oxygen to the brain and help him concentrate. It was always hilarious to see the rookies looking terrified and confused all around from over the chief's shoulder as he carried them off, only to come out half an hour later, pants-less, legs shaking, their now limp dick dripping cum on the floor, and the expression of someone who had just had a mystical experience. It was a rite of passage for all of them, and when it happened usually the rookie was offered a drink - of course, an energy drink, alcohol was bad for the body - to celebrate being officially in the Bear Packs.
Beta was struggling to hold on to Beast Master's head, his hands having gone to grasp the dark strands of his hair as he had inadvertently taken to bobbing him back and forth, his hips moving in sync, humping his mouth with deep strokes that had him gagging. Archie always tried to maintain a modicum of demeanor when he was being dragged along by his boss's primitive impulses, but, as always, he had ended up losing his cool, helped by the fact that, when the boss was in this frenzied states, his hormones acted up, starting to produce an aphrodisiac through his sweat, that made every male who inhaled it much hornier than usual and made them produce more cum, so they could satisfy his “hunger”. The young man give one thrust, heard his boss gag beneath him and whispered through his teeth: “Oh yeah, forget the motivational speeches, you should just concentrate on giving each of your men blowjobs before the missions, I bet for that bunch of meatheads it would be even more effective as a method. They already look at your ass all day long, I bet most of them forget what a first-class mouth you have. Oh! Oh yes, move that tongue, collect my cum. You like that, huh? You like choking on my cock, tell the truth? Hearing your deputy tell you what a hot bitch you are. Next time you're going to be late I'll wait for you with my cock out and as soon as you step out of the elevator I'll put you on your knees and shove it straight down your throat until I deposit all my frustration directly into your stomach, so maybe you can get it right in your head to keep on schedule, how about that?”
Beneath him Beast Master groaned, his eyes rolled into his head, his throat widening to accommodate the other's rod, spit and cum spurting out haphazardly wetting his face and giving him a pathetic look, dripping onto his chin and falling in drops onto his suit, moans of pleasure and agreement accompanying the other's words as his full balls beat with a regular rhythm against his throat, his nose being punctually buried against his pubes, inhaling the spicy smell of his skin.
The giant supervillain held on to his deputy's leg with one hand, while the free one had gone to the back of his pants, past the waistband, where he had taken to teasing his entrance with his fingers, before penetrating himself with one and taking to fucking himself, coordinating Beta's force and speed with his own, making sure to touch his prostate each time.
The deputy squinted slightly and saw that Beast Master was fingering himself while chocking on his dick, and that was too much for him. With one firm movement of his hips, he buried himself completely in his mouth and came with a roar, spurting out so much cum that with difficulty the super-criminal managed to drink it all, while the latter closed his eyes and let out another moan, milking the other's sensitive pole as much as he could, greedily collecting every single drop so ardently desired from his body.
After about twenty seconds Beta felt faint pats on his legs and came back down from his post-orgasm daze. Quickly he sucked his cock out of his leader's mouth with a liquid suck, who coughed a couple of times before picking up the traces of spit and cum that decorated his face with one hand and greedily licked his fingers, savoring every last drop. With slightly stiffened legs he pulled himself to his feet and stretched before exclaiming, “Phew, thanks man, that was just what I needed, I can think a lot better now. You're always the best - and patted him on the back, giving him a wink before turning back to the rest of his men, ignoring the pants stretched to the extreme by his hard cock and the cum stains decorating his suit shirt in the chest area - All right, boys, let's get this dance started! Soon the city will tremble once again upon hearing the name Beast Master.”
§§§§§
The day for Calvin Dobbs had been, all things considered, in the ordinary.
Wake up early, a note left beside his breakfast with a smiley face by his boyfriend who had left earlier than him for work, breakfast, a quick shower, and then straight to the library, where a day of tidying up the archives and customers seeking his help awaited him.
Sure enough, as soon as he arrived his boss, Mr. Gray, had spent about twenty minutes giving him directions on retrieving a couple of books requested by the local university, which completely contradicted what he had told him a week earlier, and then peremptorily ordered him out of his office, leaving him more confused than before about what he should do. In addition, a couple of times the elderly and curmudgeonly Mr. Harrison had come to complain to him about the arrangement of the books and to tell him that there were young people disturbing his reading - that is, students who had sneezed a couple of times because of the dust three aisles away from where the retired man was stationed - but all in all it had also been a pleasant day for him, not exceeding in the number of people walking all over him treating him like a doormat.
After all, if you saw him, Calvin was the epitome of a magnet for bullies: average height, a lean physique always hidden by sweatshirts at least two sizes wider, light eyes always turned downward, long black hair covering his forehead, a shy smile, and a quiet, polite demeanor. He was the preferred prey for all those people who just wanted to vent their frustration on someone, to have an emotional punching-bag so to speak, first and foremost his boss, whom many colleagues suspected was turning the frustrations of his private life on him, showing him all their sympathy.
More than once his friends - and not to mention his boyfriend - had asked him why he was so submissive, to which he responded with a laugh, saying that it was fine by him and that he did not resent the bad words with which he was apostrophized. People like Mr. Gray or old Harrison were not really bad, but just someone who needed to vent, and if he could help them then that was fine with him.
The young man was finishing checking some books that had been delivered to him for that day when a gruff, high-pitched voice exclaimed, “ Listen, young man.”
Calvin mentally sighed before putting on a broad smile and turning around, “Is there some other problem, Mr. Harrison?”
The wrinkled elderly man stared at him suspiciously from behind his bottle-bottomed lenses, his mouth set in a frowning expression under his white beard, before leaning his prominent belly against the counter and taking to exclaiming, “Can you please tell me how the hell you manage the books here? I can never find what I'm looking for, this can't go on!”
“Mr. Harrison, our cataloging criteria has not changed in the last six years, if you need a hand I can always...”
“Bah, humbugs! Back in my day...”
Calvin silenced the man's words completely, merely nodding and responding with absent “ah-ha,” “no kidding,” and “yeah, I totally understand, I'm sorry for the inconvenience,” while inside he thought they were in danger of breaking the record today: this was already the third time the man had come to complain to him about something, and it wasn't even lunchtime!
He was so lost in his own world about what he would do once he was let free that it took him a couple of seconds before he registered that Mr. Harrison had stopped talking and was now gazing in amazement at one of the computer stations a short distance from them. Calvin followed his gaze and paled, his hands closing into fists in a natural reaction, his face suddenly turning deadly serious.
From beyond the screen a square, fierce face sneered, its eyes covered by a black and white mask, its hair wild.
“Citizens of Clear Lake! You thought you'd seen the last of me, didn't you? - and let out a grim laugh that sounded a lot like a howl - I feel sorry for you, but my defeat has only made me stronger! As we speak, my troops have stormed and gained control of the main distribution points in the city: parcels, letters whatever you ordered is in my hands. Every kind of package, valuable or not, is now under my control; mobility is blocked. My demands are simple: deliver 100 million to me and no one will get hurt, don't comply with my demands, and, well, let me just say that I have a couple of guests who are in danger of paying the price - and here the screen split, as next to the figure of the Beast Master half-bust appeared the scene of two men, journalist and local small-screen celebrity Bruce Nolan, and another frightened-looking man, perhaps a colleague or a technician from the TV studio at which the anchorman worked - After all, what is 100 million in the face of two human lives? I urge our dear mayor to think hard about his moves. You know what I am capable of doing. And now I 'm talking to you, Gravitas - the screen returned to focus only on Beast Master, the smile gone replaced by an expression of pure contempt - I know you're listening. I guess you want to stop me, am I right? If that's the case then I dare you! Find me, there are clues scattered all over the city and guarded by my men, if you can put them together you will find me waiting for you along with the hostages. I am waiting for you," and he bared his gritted teeth and then burst into thunderous laughter again.
Everyone at that moment expected the screens to go dark, but instead they continued to broadcast the image of Beast Master as he turned and spoke to someone from behind the camera, all traces of menace disappearing from his face, leaving behind a kind of mild anxiety, "I think that went well, don't you? The laughter wasn't too much, was it? I wouldn't want to have frightened some of the children listening... - he frowned - Of course I'm not going to kill them, who do you take me for?! A psychopath? You should know that Bear Pack does not kill! Why did I say that? To give them a little fright, that's the basis of any self-respecting supervillain threat! I mean, it almost seems like you don't know how things work when you're a superpowered criminal. Hmm? What's that? Wait, what do you mean we're still on?! Of course, you were supposed to turn it off right away! Shut the damn thing off right now...!"
The screens went black as a slightly exasperated sigh passed between the various people in the library who resumed their work as if nothing had happened, not at all bothered by the threats of their local supervillain.
Mr. Harrison muttered, “Youngsters these days, always wasting their time...hey, young man, where are you going?!” he shouted as he saw Calvin walking away headed for the back storeroom.
“I'm not feeling well, I'll send you one of my colleagues,” the young man replied quickly, his hand going to his pocket, clutching around something.
" I say, does this sound like the way to treat an honest citizen?! It's my taxes that fund this place, and you...!" the man's sour protests were silenced when Calvin turned and gave him an icy stare, his face suddenly hard, as if it belonged to someone much older than a mere young man who was not even in his 30s.
“I said: I'm sending you one of my colleagues,” he replied, spelling out each letter. The elderly man nodded, dumbfounded, and Calvin disappeared into the room. Hearing the door close he let out a sigh before sprinting toward the nearest exit. He hurriedly pulled out his cell phone and texted Heather to take care of Mr. Harrison, then pulled his suit, reduced to a stiff square the size of his palm, out of his pocket and returned it to its true size, before altering the density of the fabric so that he could slip out of his civilian clothes and into the suit without stopping, a trick that was the result of years of practice and exercise. He hurriedly grabbed his sweatshirt, pants and shoes and shoved them inside his backpack, which he then reduced to the size of a doorstop and quickly shoved it safely into a pocket of the suit. He felt the blue and green costume wrap around his body, clinging like a second skin, showing off a lean but well-trained physique, not muscular but definitely lithe, before he tucked his hair back, one single strand unruly strand popping out, uncovering his grayish green eyes, and donned the blue mask. Once he was ready he took a leap and floated through the walls and ceiling and out into the city sky, the air gently caressing his face and the sun warm on his skin.
Gravitas took a deep breath, before turning around and calculating where the nearest sorting center was. Once he figured it out he gave a heel strike and activated the mini thrusters hidden in his boots, then took off flying in that direction, ready for his daily confrontation with his nemesis.
§§§§§
Beast Master paced back and forth, looking literally like a caged beast, pacing the entire circumference of the circular room on the top floor of the old abandoned observatory, hands behind his back, an impatient expression on his mask-covered face.
Settled against the wall, on chairs that had been offered to them by the villain's henchmen, Bruce Nolan and his colleague, cameraman Ethan, sat waiting to see what would happen.
“Mr. Nolan, what are we going to do? Will we be harmed?” asked Ethan terrified.
The man turned to him and flashed the smile that had been the secret of his success. Although he was now in his fifties, Bruce Nolan continued to be a well-known heartthrob, with a shaved face, a seasoned good looks, salt-and-pepper hair that was always perfectly combed, gray eyes, and a physique that was now starting to wear a little, with the first traces of a belly obscuring what used to be sculpted abs but which he hid perfectly under the stylish clothes he so loved to wear. There couldn't have been more contrast between him and the cameraman: Ethan appeared to be in his mid-twenties, black curls escaping from under his cap with the TV corporation's logo with the visor kept backwards, his full face was covered by a shaggy stubble, and he wore a simple black T-shirt and cargo pants. His dark hands kept going to his badge and nervously playing with it to vent his tension, while to himself he kept regretting his life's choices. It had not even been a month since he had moved to Clear Lake that he had already been kidnapped by the local supervillain, could anyone be more unlucky? And to think that he had left Costal Central specifically so that he would never get involved in such situations again!
Mr. Nolan patted him on the shoulder and whispered in a calm voice, “Don't worry. I know you are from the city and that things are not exactly easy there, but there is nothing to fear here. Beast Master seems dangerous, but you will find that your presence here may be more of a blessing than a curse,” and he gave him a wink that left him quite confused.
He was about to ask for an explanation when the supervillain stopped in the center of the room and shouted to the sky, “Graaaagh! How long is it going to take?! It's not like I have all day!”
In a frenzy he once again approached the panel at the side of the room and took to checking that everything was ready. As soon as Gravitas arrived he would trigger the cameras scattered around the perimeter of the room and project the hero's defeat throughout the city. It was going to be epic, the ultimate humiliation for his most bitter enemy! He was just checking to see if he remembered the start code when the radio he kept on the panel spoke, letting out the voice of one of his men, Douglass: “Boss! I saw him, he's getting closer!”
Beast Master, who had leaned against the control panel frightened by the outburst, straightened up with a triumphant smile before picking up the radio and ordering, “Good. Give him the welcoming committee, and let it be one he will remember for a long time.”
“You bet it, boss!”
Beast Master put the radio away and approached his two hostages. Ethan swallowed, unable to stop shaking. He did not understand how Mr. Nolan could be so calm; the guy was absolutely huge! He could have with ease picked him up and thrown him out the window, yet his boss not only sat calmly by his side but also held his gaze!
“Well well well. It looks like we'll be parting ways soon, Mr. Nolan. I hope you have found your stay here to your liking,” Beast Master exclaimed with a grin.
Bruce cleared his throat and crossed his legs, “Absolutely delightful.”
“Glad to hear it. And now! - Ethan was expecting who knows what, instead the super villain leaned toward them and muttered -How does my hair look? Should I comb it back a little? Do you think it will look good on camera?”
“Your hair is fine Beast Master,” replied Mr. Nolan reassuringly.
“Oh, thank goodness. What about the suit? We've made some changes recently and I wouldn't want it to be too much of an eyesore,” and he took to flexing his muscles, making his chest pop out even more, stretching the thin fabric layer, making his round pecs jiggle in all their glory, his nipples perfectly visible. Ethan felt a warm sensation as he covered his crotch area with his hands, confused as to why he was feeling such a thing in front of a man.
“Hmm, yes, I had noticed that. I would say it's okay, the colors blend well together, it's not a problem.”
“Phew, thank you Mr. Nolan. Well at this point I am ready to fight Gravitas! Although...”
A conflicted expression passed over the super-criminal's face as he cast a glance out the window. It was now early afternoon, several hours had passed since he had announced his plan, and in all that time he had not trained or kept in shape, doing only a little stretching as soon as he got there. There was a strong risk that he would arrive at the confrontation depleted, not at his peak physical fitness, and he could not allow that!
He nodded solemnly and turned once more to his hostages, “Well, now, go ahead and say no if you want, but I have a favor to ask of you.”
Ethan frowned, even more confused. Since when did supervillains “ask” for anything instead of just taking it by force?
“In a little while there will be my final confrontation with Gravitas. It will be broadcast in real time throughout the city, and I want it to be epic, unforgettable! Therefore I have to be at my best, and I need your contribution so I can reach my full potential and crush that pesky little rat!”
Ethan looked at him in disbelief, widening his eyes. It was ridiculous! No sane person would set out to help a super-criminal, it was out of the question! He was prepared to object and tell him that he would never, ever help him, and that he could hurt him and threaten him but he would not relent, when Bruce anticipated him by exclaiming, “Of course, help yourself.”
Beast Master smiled, “Thanks, man,” and, before the astonished eyes of the cameraman he knelt down positioning himself exactly between the open legs of his boss and with quick fingers he took to undo his pants and unzip them, revealing the man's already taut boxers. He slid them down with a quick motion and released his cock, not particularly long or large but with the curiosity of being slightly curved upward and uncircumcised, and judging by the state of his pubes and balls it was more than likely that he was manscaping. Ethan sensed as a change in the thug's expression, as if he had suddenly become more ravenous, and he could have sworn that the smile had all of a sudden become sharper. He wrapped one gloved hand around the other's pole and slowly started to move it up and down, his head drooping and settling against his balls, taking a deep breath. A dumb grin formed on his face as he stuck out his tongue and took to licking and sucking the TV host's balls, reveling in their scent.
Bruce let out a moan as he let go against the backrest, his hand going to stroke the other's dark hair and pressing it against himself as he murmured, “Oh yeah, put that tongue to work. Oh, suck me good, clean my family jewels.”
Ethan watched wordlessly at the scene of the villain, big , thick and fearful, who was now serving adoringly his superior, his lips not pulling away from him, his nose rubbing against him. Noticing his gaze, Mr. Noal winked at him complicitly before exclaiming, “How about we speed things up and let my young friend take care of your other entrance?”
Beast Master brightened and turned his face away, turning a lust-filled smile to the other, “Yes, you would be doing me a great favor. I need to have the tank full if I'm going to defeat Gravitas,” and from his kneeling position that he was in, he got up on all fours, raising his generous ass and taking to moving his hips, making it wiggle in his tight pants.
Ethan took to coughing before exclaiming, “H-have you lost your mind? I'm not gay, I like girls!”
Beast Master took on a frown at his outburst, but simply shrugged, “Whatever, suit yourself,” and went back to focusing on the reporter's cock. This time he held it steady with one hand and pointed it at his face before opening his mouth and leaving a kiss on the tip. He made his tongue dance along the head, running it under the foreskin and picking up every single trace of pre before lifting his eyes to the other and meekly opening his mouth into an O in a silent invitation, his eyes watching him filled with expectation. Bruce only chuckled as he grabbed his cock and smacked it on the villain's square face, exclaiming, “I don't think I've ever known a cheekier slut than you. You are so cute.”
He picked up the traces of pre that he had left on his rough cheeks with his fingers and forcefully put them inside the other man's open mouth, making him suck them greedily, before pulling them out, telling him, “say aaaah” and resting the tip of his rod against his lips. He stood still for a couple of seconds like this, not moving, teasing him only with his prize, then, without making any effort, he slid it in, going so far as to put it in halfway, a moan of pure pleasure coming out of Beast Master's throat as he closed his eyes in an ecstatic expression.
In no time, all by himself the super-criminal began bobbing his head back and forth, soon reaching the base, deepthroating that cock like a true slut.
“Beast Master? Maybe I'd better change your name to 'Bitch Master' next time a cover a story about you, how about that?” grunted Bruce with a smile as he grabbed the sides of the other's face and took to moving it with speed, fucking his mouth, the criminal simply looking up at him with an obedient expression.
Ethan watched them, his breathing suddenly heavy. He looked down and noticed, to his horror, that a hard-on now stretched his pants. He tried to ignore it, to think about all those thoughts he usually used to delay his orgasm, but such an erotic sight only aroused him more and more, and if he even tried to close his eyes the obscene noises produced by the supervillain's mouth combined with the prodding from Mr. Nolan only aroused his fantasy even more.
Eventually he gave up and aimed his gaze at the scene taking place to his right and his eyes landed on Beast Master's ass, round and tempting, and he suddenly felt the need to feel its firmness under his fingers, to see those fantastic buttocks jiggling without the bother of the pants in the way as his hole opened to accommodate him, a pathetic squeal of pleasure escaping from the villain's lips while he was still busy serving and sucking Mr. Nolan's pole as he went back and forth, until...
“Looks like someone changed his mind.”
Bruce's sing-song voice brought him back down to earth. Ethan looked around before looking down to see that he had unzipped his pants and now had his cock clenched in his fist as he jerked off, the tip already covered in pre.
He nearly fell out of his chair as he straightened up and hid his shame with his hands, trying to come up with an excuse as to why he had been caught, literally, with his pants down.
The older man chuckled, “Relax, Ethan. Take a breath and enjoy this opportunity. I'm not gay myself, but no one in this town has ever said no to 'Bitch Master's' body. Go ahead. Let yourself go,” and he pulled his spit-covered cock out of the other man's mouth before taking to slapping him again, Beast Master merely panting like a dog in heat, his tongue left out, his lips swollen after that abuse. His eyes from behind the mask fell on the other man's cock and focused completely on him. He let out a pathetic yelp as he readjusted and raised his ass even higher, the message clear.
Bruce laughed, “He seems to like you. Come on, don't make him beg, even if he loves to do that, don't you, boy?” and laughed slapping him once again.
Ethan met the gaze of the supervillain who exclaimed in a rough voice, “Please sir, use your amazing cock, put it all in me, I can take it. Ruin my hole completely. Teach this bad boy a lesson. Only your cock can bring me back to the right path. Fuck the evil out of my body.”
Each word was so laced with erotic charge that Ethan finally relented. He stood up, took off his pants so fiercely that he almost ripped them off and positioned himself behind the other man's ass. He swallowed: it was so imposing that it was awe-inspiring, the taut fabric of the pants making it if possible more erotic than if he had been naked.
In the meantime Beast Master had gone back to focusing on Bruce's cock and balls, taking to licking and sloppily cleaning them. Sensing that the cameraman was not moving behind him, he interrupted and exclaimed, “Th-there's a zipper,” before the other man's hand went to grab him and force him to worship his balls again.
With his heart pounding in his throat, Ethan reached out a hand and lowered the zipper. The fabric easily slid aside, pulled back by the erection the villain was sporting at having his mouth violated by the handsome host, and soon his bronze ass was revealed before the young man's astonished eyes. His nose also caught a faint acrid smell of sweat and arousal, emitted from the other guy's rear end, and in a second he felt his doubts vanish as his cock took to throbbing and leaking pre on the floor. He leaned forward and gave him a resounding slap on the ass, which generated a deep groan from the criminal. Bruce smiled and drew him to himself, having his cheek pressed against his cock, the thug's arms going weakly to his sides as the anchorman took to lovingly stroking his hair, “Sssshhhh, it's okay. You're doing great.”
Ethan felt even more aroused by that scene and took to giving harder and harder smacks, making the sound of his hand against the other man's ass resound throughout the empty room, combined with his moans of pleasure and the criminal's half-hearted exclamations.
Finally, after another couple of minutes, he deemed himself satisfied. He reached out a finger to see what the situation was back there and whether he should intervene with his mouth before the supervillain was ready to welcome him inside, but he was surprised to feel that the other's hole was already wet, as if it had prepared itself to receive him. With a shiver of pleasure he watched his finger disappear down to the knuckle, managing to move easily inside the other's tunnel. At that point he experimented with a second and a third, until he had no less than four fingers inside him, with Beast Master merely moaning pathetically. Ethan was sure that, if he wanted to, he could welcome his entire fist inside him.Feeling that he couldn't hold back any longer, the cameraman stood up, spit a glob of saliva on his cock and smeared it well along his length, repeating the operation a couple more times until he was sure it was slippery enough, then took it with one hand, pointed it firmly at his gaping hole, begging to be filled, and, in one smooth motion, thrust it in, easily reaching two-thirds - and he had at least a couple of inches more than Mr. Nolan - before stopping with a moan of sheer pleasure, certain he would cum on the spot at feeling the other man's tunnel tightening around him, sucking and drawing him greedily inside.
A scream of pain and pleasure escaped the thug's lips as he felt himself being invaded. before he exclaimed, “Oh yes, fill me! Fill me to bursting! Fuck, it's so big, I can feel it in my stomach!”
Ethan smiled and gave another spanking before exclaiming, “You like it, huh? You like to feel my big black cock violating you, huh, bitch? And to think I was scared of you, when all I had to do was pull it out to have you at my feet. That's right, moan you slut, I know you like it when I call you that, you useless cumdump. Fuck, if all super-villains were like you I would become a hero in no time, just so I could have your ass ready at every hour and I could fuck you day and night.”
The cameraman's every word was accompanied by a forward thrust of his hips as his rod penetrated deeper and deeper inside the other man's hole, until he found himself fucking him with fast and intense movements, every trace of reluctance gone, replaced only by the primal need to mate.
The supervillain was so engrossed in the assault in his rear area that he had forgotten the presence of his other partner, until in the midst of a groan he felt the other's cock pressing against his lips. In an automatic gesture he opened them and felt his shaft sliding inside his mouth and the man's hand pressing on his head forcing him to swallow it down to the base, coughing and spitting.
He looked up teary-eyed at Bruce and saw that the handsome reporter was smiling at him, a lust-filled light in his gray eyes.
“You're making a little too much noise. Why don't you make yourself useful with that mouth instead?” and without even waiting he pressed his face between his thighs, pinning him in place as he took to moving his cock in faster and faster motions, fucking his face and witnessing the sloppy masterpiece he was creating, his rod hitting the back of his throat each time.
In the meantime Ethan kept going, fingers gripping his firm, trained buttocks, grabbing full force, giving the occasional spanking, as his cock went in and out of the other man's ass, now so wide open that he could safely get it out almost all the way by having only the tip remaining in, and then give a sharp forward thrust and have his balls slamming against him in a pop that brought him closer and closer each time. They were all three sweating like pigs, the words slowly turning more and more into guttural, animalistic cries, Ethan mounting the giant supervillain while in front of him Bruce used his mouth as his personal sex toy.
And Beast Master? Through it all, the super-criminal had already cum twice inside the costume without ever even touching himself, just from Ethan's relentless assault on his prostate and the feel of Bruce's cock opening his throat, a small pool of cum had formed beneath him, the costume taut and stained, while his thoughts were focused only on giving pleasure to his masters and using his body to serve them until they deemed him worthy of his prize, their delicious essence injected directly into him from the source.
Finally the criminal's efforts were rewarded. First came the host, who had been brought so far to the limit by his expert mouth, planting his hands on the back of his head and exploding with a howl, Beast Master obediently swallowing it all, his tongue even in the midst of orgasm teasing him by licking the underside of his rod. Then feeling his hole clamping down and milking him in an automic reflex, Ethan came too, with one last thrust of his hips planting himself inside the other and moaning he poured all his cum inside. He had never produced so much and felt that if the other had been a woman he would surely have gotten pregnant. The idea was so erotic that it generated one last spasm and one last gush of cum inside the other's hole before he let his dick slip out with an obscene sound.
Announcer and cameraman had cum so much that they both fell to the floor out of breath, light-headed, unable to reason, suddenly tired.
Beast Master, now finally free to breathe again, stood up on shaky legs and smiled, exclaiming, “Thank you very much for your contribution.”
He was about to add something else, perhaps a comment that he would be ready for a second round once the fight was over and he had finally secured victory against his enemy, when someone cleared his throat. Beast Master turned, fists raised, and saw standing waiting for him, his face perhaps slightly red, was Gravitas, arms crossed in front of his chest.
“Gravitas! - a fierce smile passed over the villain's face as he clapped - Well well well, so you finally found me. Well, that won't do you any good! I know you by now, your tricks no longer work on me. I have trapped you here, and soon the whole town will witness your defeat in real time. Prepare yourself, you wimpy hero, for this observatory will also be the site of your ultimate defeat!” and burst into cruel laughter.
Through it all Gravitas looked at him, not at all impressed. It had to be said that as a monologue it wasn't even bad, straight and to the point, and he hadn't stumped once this time; the rehearsals in front of the mirror had really helped him a lot. Too bad there were two problems: first, that without knowing it, when his henchman had alerted him of his arrival, the villain had activated the observatory's cameras, so the whole city had just witnessed the show of the giant, muscular super-villain reduced to a moaning whore as he was being simultaneously fucked by two men half his size - not that it was the first time this had happened -; second, the hero was having a little difficulty taking him seriously with the ripples of spit and cum still running down the corners of his mouth, his pants stretched by his boner with the stain on the front, and the cum deposited by the cameraman inside his ass dripping onto the floor from the zipper left open.
Gravitas cleared his throat and took a fighting stance, praying that the other would not notice his hard-on.
§§§§§
“Gravitas, this way!”
“Gravitas, may I ask you a question?!”
“Gravitas, how did you feel about the fight?!”
“Gravitas, an interview about your victory over Beast Master?!”
Calvin forced himself to smile. He had just turned Mr. Nolan and the cameraman over to the paramedics, and now he found himself, as he always did, facing the hordes of reporters looking for a front-page scoop, anxious to get an interview with the elusive hero of Clear Lake.
Gravitas took a couple of steps forward and raised a hand. Instantly silence fell as reporters pulled out their notebooks or pointed their tape recorders at him, determined not to miss a word.
"The fight was tough, Beast Master was more determined than ever to win, but fortunately I managed to prevail, albeit with difficulty. The hostages are now safe, but I ask you to wait to get any kind of information from them. A kidnapping can leave one shaken; please respect their privacy. Unfortunately Beast Master, and his henchmen, managed to escape, however I think he will be licking his wounds for quite a while. I have nothing more to say about this, have a nice day,"
And as more questions rained down on him Gravitas slowly rose into the air before flying away.
When he was fairly sure that he had distanced them and that there was no one behind him who had had the unhealthy idea of following him, the young man headed for his apartment, anxious to set foot inside and aware of what awaited him. Once he was sure there was no one there to see him he perched himself on the roof of his apartment building, took off his costume, folded it and used his powers to make it into a thin square of fabric and then hid it safely in an inner pocket of his backpack, now normal size again. At that point he descended the fire stairs until he reached his floor, made sure there was no one along the corridors, and walked through the wall. Arriving in front of the door he made sure he was okay and had everything stashed in his backpack before entering and exclaiming, "I'm home! Babe, are you here?"
A familiar grunt made its way to him in the hall, confirming his suspicions. Calvin merely sighed as he set his backpack down in the hall and took off his shoes and then made his way up to the bedroom. His boyfriend was lying on his stomach, wearing only an old black tank top and a pair of pajama pants in a delicate pastel pink - which in Calvin's opinion perfectly highlighted his partner's ass -, his face buried in one of the pillows, leaving only his messy dark brown faux hawk peeking out, while his giant arms held a stuffed teddy bear tightly to his chest.
Calvin sighed and sat down next to the other, one hand going to his back where he took to rubbing it, “Bad day?”
Manuel raised his head and shot an angry look at him before sitting up, "You could say that! And everything was going perfectly, too, if it hadn't been for...!"
The personal trainer froze abruptly, his eyes wide, before coughing and exclaiming, "I mean: it would have been going perfectly if it wasn't for a client. Yeah, that's right! A client!"
Calvin sighed internally but merely nodded, “Always that one client bothering you?”
"Yes, that's the one! You should have seen him, he was absolutely unbearable today. Ugh! If only I could teach him a lesson: make that smirk disappear with my fists..." he muttered as he crossed his arms in front of his generous chest, the teddy bear always clutched in his hand.
His boyfriend chuckled as he reached out a hand and stroked his hair, his eyes going over his body, noting one by one the blows and wounds they had exchanged, wincing to see that he had left a pretty nasty-looking one on his forearm when he had parried one of his super-dense punches, instantly feeling guilty.
He reached out a hand and brushed the purplish bruise that was starting to form, “And he did this to you?
”"Hmm? Oh no, don't worry, that's... I bumped into one of the equipments while tidying up the gym's storage room," Manuel hurriedly lied.
"Well, whatever it is it looks bad. Hang on, I'll go get the necessary to treat you“
Calvin stood up when he felt the other's calloused hand gently take his wrist, ”Hey, don't worry. I'm fine“
The librarian turned and bit his lower lip, before sighing and sitting back down, ” Maybe so, but I'm not convinced..."
"I'm fine, Cal, really. You don't have to worry about me," and he smiled at him, one of those smiles so tender that it melted him inside every time.
The two boyfriends stood still looking into each other's eyes, golden in green, before simultaneously, drawn as if by an invisible force, they leaned toward each other and their lips joined in a tender kiss. They stood still like that for a long time with their eyes closed, savoring the taste of each other's lips, reveling in feeling the presence of their loved one close by, sucking and nibbling on each other, generating merry chuckles.
And while they were engaged in that exchange Calvin felt the usual weight in the pit of his stomach. As he did every time after a battle, he felt guilty for keeping such a big secret from his boyfriend, especially when one took into account that he, on the other hand, had been fully aware from day one when they had met in person that Manuel was his self-proclaimed enemy number one - not that it was hard to find out, the personal trainer was as subtle as an oversized bull in the proverbial china shop, a bull completely unaware of his surroundings, to boot - but he also knew it was for the best if things stayed that way. He didn't want to put the other in front of the choice between him and his super-criminal business, and he didn't consider him dangerous enough to reveal the truth to him, not to mention that he also did not want to hurt him. Moreover, the fact that they were together granted him the advantage of being able to quietly keep an eye on him without him getting suspicious and being aware of his plans. without ever being caught off guard by his boyfriend's unusual schemes, allowing him to minimize whatever kind of damage the other could do.
Sure, every time they fought he also had to calibrate his strength and had to give him little treats from time to time when they faced each other to keep him from getting too down on himself, but all in all it was small stuff.
And then there was, of course, the giant elephant in the room: Manuel's constant need to ingest cum to keep what Calvin called ‘the Beast’, his wilder, more primitive side, the one constantly seeking physical satisfaction, his truly dangerous side, under control. At first, when they had first started dating, he had expected to be jealous of seeing his boyfriend being fucked by other men, but he soon realized that he actually did not mind it and, in fact, perhaps even found it hot.
The thought of the threesome he had witnessed that afternoon flashed through his mind, the image of Manuel, in his tight Beast Master costume, being violated by the cameraman's giant black cock while his face was covered in cum and sweat and being fucked by none other than Bruce Nolan, one of the librarian's personal gay awakenings, presented itself in his head, causing him to moan in the midst of the kissing.
He pulled away and stared into his eyes, being returned by Manuel's confused expression. Fuck, how could such a mountain of a man also be so fucking cute, it was unfair!
He took a deep breath and tried to calm his heartbeat before smiling at him, one hand going to caress his cheekbone, “Are you still in a bad mood, babe?”
Manuel shifted on the spot, “A little bit, why?”
“Well, you know what always makes you happier, don't you?” and slowly took his hand and then brought it to his crotch, where his cock was slowly hardening, his free hand reaching out to cup around one of his ass cheeks, squeezing it lightly in a possessive manner.
Manuel's eyes widened before his expression turned ravenous, his pupils widening slightly.
“Fuck yeah, jackpot...” whispered the personal trainer before dropping the stuffed animal on the floor and drawing the other to himself in a hug, throwing himself onto the bed. Calvin laughed as he found himself on top of his boyfriend's body, before smiling at him and leaning forward, the kisses turning into a tongue fight, a slow, sloppy make out session, hands going to explore their bodies, slipping under their shirts and brushing against their skin, sending shivers of pleasure.
Soon Manuel surrendered, deliberately losing the fight for dominance, and he took to moaning as, from his mouth, Calvin's lips descended, going to suck and kiss his neck, where they took to leaving slow hickeys, biting him even lightly, imposing his mark on his partner's bronze skin. Calvin's body moved, his hands going to grope and squeeze Manuel's giant man-tits as his bulge rubbed against his body, making his presence felt.
Suddenly the younger man straightened up and looked down at the figure of his boyfriend beneath him, losing himself in gazing at his face contracted into an expression of desire and submission, his arms abandoned upward, exposing his armpits, his chest rising and falling out of breath, his glazed eyes looking up at him filled with adoration. Calvin swallowed and gripped the old tank top tightly, whispering with a growl, “Let's get comfortable, because I'm not going to go easy on you tonight.”
Manuel lit up at those words and hurriedly did as he was ordered while in front of him Calvin also removed his shirt and pants remaining completely naked, his hard cock pointing in front of him.
Once free of that obstruction they returned to making out, pressing their bodies on each other, until they returned with Calvin straddling his chest, only this time he had his cock aiming proudly in front of him, the reddened tip leaking drops of pre. Manuel stood still for a second, staring at him before leaning forward with his face and placing a single kiss on the tip, then bringing his hands to his chest, pushing his pecs from the sides and squeezing them together.
“Your friend seems to be cold, luckily I have a warm and comfortable spot just for him,” the man teased him, opening his mouth in an O as well.
Calvin swallowed and, without even thinking, secured his knees tightly on either side of his chest, his hands going to grasp the headboard for support. Holding his cock with his right hand as if it were a paintbrush, he ran it along all of Manuel's pecs, leaving behind a translucent trail of pre and cum, lingering on his nipples and teasing them, covering them thoroughly and hardening them, making Manuel moan beneath him. Once he deemed that was enough foreplay, the young man positioned his pole between the two slightly hairy mountains that were the other's man-boobs. At that point the personal trainer wrapped him up using his soft, trained pecs and began to go up and down, starting to give him a pec-job. Initially Calvin closed his eyes and let the other take care of him, reveling in the feel of his sweaty skin enveloping him in a wet grip, but then he decided to take matters into his own hands. He put both hands on Manuel's shoulders, leaned forward with his back and began to move his hips in increasingly fast and erratic motions, and in a few minutes he found himself fucking his boobs. Seeing that the other had taken the reins, Manuel simply kept his hands still where they were and raised his head, opening his mouth so that from time to time the tip of his boyfriend's cock would enter and he could suck his cum, and each time he did so he let out a moan of pleasure.
With all that stimulation and also seeing how repressed he was after the scene of Manuel being treated like a pig on a spit, it took a short time before Calvin came with a groan, covering his partner's square face with white cum and wetting his tits as well.
They stood still for a couple of seconds before the superhero moved. Manuel had initially thought that his boyfriend would only need one round, and even the trainer himself had to admit that some of his bad mood disappeared as soon as he tasted his delicious nectar, but the librarian surprised him when he got down until he was behind him, with strong hands lifted his legs, and without hesitation, stuck his face between his cheeks, taking to eating his ass, his tongue caressing his entrance before penetrating him forcefully as he slowly took to making out with his second mouth.
"Oh! Oh yes, papi! Oh, I don't know what's the matter with you today but don't stop! Oh, yes, move that tongue! Ah, gobble me up, papi!"
Calvin shivered with pleasure as he felt his cock throbbing. Hearing Manuel call him a nickname in Spanish was always a turn on for him, especially in bed, especially if he called him “papi”, aka “daddy.” As soon as those words reached his ears his hands went to separate the two buttocks and thrust even deeper into him, his head bobbing to the side as his throat emitted a guttural moan that reverberated throughout the personal trainer's body making him groan, his cock leaking cum onto his abs like a broken pipe as the giant jock brought his hands to his chest and took to squeezing and pulling his sensitive nipples, one of his major erogenous zones. Manuel didn't know it, but when he completely let himself go to 'the Beast' he could even reach orgasm by just having someone play with his nipples, and in those instances he also produced milk, which obviously had the same aphrodisiac effects as his sweat.
Calvin had been guilty of taking advantage of this on a couple of occasions.
All of a sudden the superhero pulled away and took a deep breath before admiring his result, watching his lover's spit-covered hole opening and closing, eager only to have him inside him.
His cock was hard again - also aided by the effect of the supervillain's aphrodisiac sweat - so Calvin knelt down and stood over the other, his hand giving his tool a couple of strokes, his eyes lifting to Manuel's face, “So, you ready, baby?”
The personal trainer, aroused and on the verge of breaking, merely nodded as he hooked his hands behind his knees and lifted and opened his legs to allow the other to penetrate him, his breathing shuddering.
Calvin chuckled and thrust his hips forward, but instead of entering him, he merely paused first, touching only his hole with the tip and taking to teasing it, before whispering mischievously, "Come on, baby, you know the drill. You have to use your words. Otherwise how do I know if you really want it?"
Manuel looked at him for a second, lost, then whispered, “Fuck me...”
"Hmm? Did you say something, big boy? I don't think I heard you," the other teased him, and seeing how reluctant he seemed, he decided to give him extra incentive by pointing his cock and putting in just the tip.
A shiver ran through his body as the super-criminal arched his back and exclaimed, "Fuck! Fuck me, papi! Fuck this bad boy until tomorrow morning! Use me completely! Brand me with your cum until I smell only of that! Fill me so full with your milk that my stomach is going to burst! Open me completely with your cock until I remember only your shape and can take you inside without any problems!"
Those words were enough to make Calvin lose control and he thrust his hips forward and put his rod halfway in. He stayed still for a couple of seconds as he felt every single nerve ending in his body scream in pleasure, before grabbing his lover's raised legs and taking to driving his hips back and forth, fucking him and making him moan beneath himself, his pecs bouncing up and down accompanying his movements, the personal trainer's cock swinging from side to side, slamming against his sculpted abs and leaving behind a wet puddle of cum, tying the tip to his stomach with a translucent thread.
At one point Calvin looked at him and felt a shiver run through him and decided to use his secret strategy. He leaned forward and put his hands on his boyfriend's sides, preventing him from any escape, Manuel's eyes rolling up at him as he moaned in pleasure, focusing only on his lean face. Once he knew he had his full attention Calvin focused on his cock, which he slowly infused with his power. One advantage of being able to alter the mass of things was that he could also change his own size, and after many attempts, he had managed to do so with individual parts of his body as well. He diverted all his attention to himself and let his power flow, reaching down to his reproductive system. With each forward stroke he felt his cock grow, as if it was being pumped, and soon it had almost doubled in size to the point that he was sure he could see it swelling Manuel's stomach, deforming his abs.
Lost as he was in pleasure the other did not even notice the blatant change, thinking instead that it was just his overexcited state and sensitive hole that made him particularly responsive, as it always was when he was being fucked by his boyfriend: "Fuck, you're so big, papi! Shit, if you keep this up I really risk getting pregnant!"
"Yes, you would look absolutely beautiful with a belly full of my seed, as you walk around proudly carrying the sign of my ownership - whispered Calvin in a rough voice as he leaned over until they were face to face, taking to making out sloppily, the superhero growling fiercely between kisses - You take me so well. Say, do you work out with others by any chance? Do you make sure your ass is always so open so that you can take me in any time I want? Is this one of the classes you teach at your gym? 'How to bottom 101: learn how to be a pro slut and take even the biggest, juiciest cocks, by Manuel cumdump Davila?“
”Mgh, no, I swear I don't... I..."
The other man's words were interrupted when, with one firm stroke, Calvin penetrated him completely, his balls now the size of golf balls pounding against his firm buttocks with a liquid noise.
"Don't lie to me. Even before I took to eating you out I could feel that you were so open and wet that at least a couple more cocks have been inside you. How many have you taken today alone, huh? Three? Six? Ten? And how many of those have been together? Hmm? - as he continued to speak he pulled slightly back his hips, slowly thrusting out his cock now made huge by his powers, before he gave another forward thrust, feeling Manuel's body trembling beneath him as he hit his prostate, his nipples leaking milk, joining his sweat, the expression on the personal trainer's face one of ecstatic pleasure, as if he was about to cum from the intensity of their encounter, his hands going to grasp at his shoulders -And, tell me, is this how you deal with your problematic client, too? The one who always makes you angry? Maybe if I offered him your ass and let him fuck you you'd get along fine, what do you say? That would be a good way for you to make up“
”Mgh, no...! Not with him...!" Manuel whined, his fingers digging in his shoulders, almost leaving scratches on the other's pale skin.
"Hmm? You don't want to do it with him? You take everybody's dicks up your ass but with him not? Ah well, happy you. I can assure you, though, that if the gym ever gets into trouble, all you'd have to do is add a little membership bonus and you'd be on a roll: 'Join Wicked Gains, for every month you stay with us you can fuck the owner for a week at no extra charge'. You'd be the hottest hit of the year, you'd be the new advertisement of the moment, everywhere in town there'd be your image or, rather, the image of your ass in the close-up, open, spewing hot cum just deposited. Fuck, you'd be so hot, a perfect cumdump."
Both of them were panting and completely drenched in sweat, lost in their own fantasies, Manuel so overdosed with cum and excitement that his brain no longer worked or understood what his boyfriend was saying, only gurgling out words like "yes, papi", "as you wish" and "I'm proud to be your cumdump slut", until they both came.
Calvin's movements had become increasingly erratic and violent, similar to a piston at work. He was no longer pulling out of the other's hole, limiting himself to frequent and continuous strokes until he lifted his head and roared, cumming inside his boyfriend's ass. His cum was so much - after all, having increased his mass had also increased his sperm production - that he felt it in part even coming out of his ruined hole while, losing control, his cock shrank in size with each spurt, deflating until it returned to normal and came out with a liquid gush from the personal trainer's ass, accompanied by a literal flood of cum.
Manuel came at the same time as his lover, his hands that had returned to his chest, squeezing his nipples between his fingers and spraying milk everywhere as his cock shot strands of white cum everywhere between their bodies without him having ever touched it, on his face a dazed expression, as if suddenly he was no longer capable of rational thought, every ounce of intelligence he might have expelled from his body as a result of the most intense orgasm he had had in weeks, to the point that when he felt Calvin's cock leave him he could not hold back disappointed whine.
Calvin slid from atop the other's body, and the two of them found themselves lying on the mattress gasping for air. The two boyfriends remained lying side by side, Manuel with arms wide open as he felt his partner's cum slowly pouring out of his abused hole, Calvin with eyes closed, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend's huge figure, his head resting peacefully against his soft chest. The room reeked with a penetrating smell of sweat and sex, and they would surely have to throw the sheets in the wash, but neither of them minded, too busy enjoying the peace after that intense intercourse.
Calvin was just about to fall asleep when he felt his partner moving and his powerful arms gently wrapping around him, making him feel secure, before the personal trainer's lips settled on his head and left him a gentle kiss,
“I love you, querido” whispered only Manuel, making him smile.
"I love you too, babe. You're the best thing that ever happened to me,"
Manuel only giggled as he held him close and soon they were asleep.
Calvin had thought several times about the nature of his relationship with Manuel and how cruel fate had been to make two people who loved each other sworn enemies. However, he was also certain of one thing: Manuel Davila was his soulmate and he loved him with all his heart. Secret identity or not.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
