It's a few weeks later that we have our next opportunity to go to the gym together; we usually have to go on different schedules because of our jobs. We like our gym (which is good because we're there a lot); it strikes that rare balance of being very gay-friendly while still caring about quality equipment and not just the mirrors on the walls. The owner, Frank, is a friend; we pay our membership like anyone else, but he lets me whore you out to other guys there, as long as I keep it VERY discreet. When it's been quiet enough, you've sucked off countless guys in the showers, toilet stalls, even a few times right in the main locker room. You've swallowed plenty of workout-fueled piss, down on your knees in various places. And of course I've let more than a few have a go in that incredible pussy of yours. Frank even has an out-of-the-way storage room that he'll unlock for me, so I can put you through your paces with a bit more privacy. The price of this special treatment? Frank gets to use your mouth and cunt whenever he wants (which is pretty often), as long as the timing works. We have a signed contract stating as much, which I had no problem agreeing to.
Frank is a dark-featured, muscle bear of a man, not the type that really gets your juices flowing personally (though I stopped caring years ago whether the men I make you serve are your type or not), but one of those undeniably manly men that tempts lots of guys to branch out from their usual type. He's tall but not amazingly so, just large and solidly built, with thick, muscular arms and legs, an ample bubble butt, a strong, broad chest whose pecs have a sexy, beefy curve, and the biggest, meatiest man-nipples I've ever seen. I tell him often that he should get them pierced, and he always jokes that the metal wouldn't even go through. He goes fucking nuts when I twist or chew on them, though. Add in an expertly-kept, thick beard halfway to his chest, strong sapphire eyes, a solid beer belly that makes his otherwise-muscular build even hotter, and a dense forest of thick soft fur all over his entire body, front and back... and he's one fucking hot bear. I've got a thing for big furry men (honestly, I almost never meet a man I don't want to plow for one reason or another... I was simply born to fuck). When he's wanted to bottom, Frank and I have had amazing sex a bunch of times. If he takes it face-down, his beer gut pushes his furry ass up in a seriously seductive way; when on his back, my fuck moves though his bulk in visible waves as I slam into him, and when I lay on my back it's hot as hell to watch this giant hunk of a man climb on top and fuck himself senseless on my cock, his furry belly bouncing up and down, my hands working hard on those nipples like an operator's switchboard, hearing his deep primal growls when he finally erupts all over my stomach and chest. He cums like four men put together; we usually need a full bath towel to clean up after him... if he doesn't lap it all up and swallow it first, along with mine. Although once I painted rope after rope of cum all over his face, and told him to wear it home. Now THAT looked fucking hot, his handsome lumberjack face with my cum coating that ample beard.
But as hot as fucking Frank is, it's even hotter seeing his furry gut resting on your rock-hard, totally smooth six-pack (your tiny dicklet buried far underneath), your legs splayed out and held in his big hands, watching his belly and your perfect pecs undulate back and forth as he pounds you hard with his meaty, hairy cock... I always bust an extra big wad in your mouth watching that. Several other gym buddies of ours have, too, or plastered your face and chest with their spooge if I wanted to be the one cumming down your throat.
A bunch of people we know are there when we arrive, and we both wave hello and smile, calling out a few names of friends as we walk back to the men's locker room. We're both wearing tank tops that show off our upper bodies; yours leaves plenty of sexy chest exposed, and frames your padlock and collar nicely. Quite a few men-- and women-- have made passes at one or both of us; there are plenty of other muscle studs who go there too, some of them unbelievably hot, but we make quite the handsome pair and have turned lots of heads. Of course you're always wearing the collar, but people don't always know what that means-- especially the women. Or at least, they didn't at first. By now, basically all the regulars know we're married, most of the regular guys know you belong to me, and a good dozen or so know that you're my total faggot slave, having sampled your skills at some point or another. I've even gotten friendly with three straight men who eventually asked to try out your holes. They all complimented me on how your pussy wrapped so tightly around their cocks, massaging out their loads, and how warm and fluid your mouth was, how they never felt your teeth and you never gagged or pulled back. Only one of them has continued asking to use you again, but it makes no difference to me. There are plenty of guys who regularly ask me permission to use you. I try to make a point of taking you up to say hello whenever a guy is here who's fucked you. It's fun to watch, you still slightly embarrassed despite all the miles you've been ridden, as you try to say a normal hello to the man who has-- and likely will again-- pissed down your throat and made you suck his and my cum off of his sneakers, or the one who made you fuck your pussy with a spare bar attachment to the cable machine in the storage room while he and I made out, jacked off, and talked dirty about you as we watched, shooting our loads on you and making you wear them home. Another time in that storage room, I bet a guy that you could stuff the black knob of the tricep rope into your cunt in one go (you did), and then the metal plate at the end of the V-bar (you did; it took some maneuvering, but your pussy came like an avalanche when I gently probed it around inside you). That guy is here today, so I make sure we say hello before we put our bags away and begin our workouts. "You remember V-bar here," I tell him, running a hand over your shoulder with a wicked smile. He snorts. "Oh, yes. Yes I do. Best ten bucks I ever lost, buddy!" He gives me a fist bump.
While we work out, we move through our own routines, sometimes together and sometimes apart-- yes, you're my faggot slave, but not a mindless fucking robot who can't do anything unless commanded. You know your way around a gym, obviously, and I want you to have the freedom to work out the way you decide, growing and maintaining that sexy body for me. Besides, it's hot to watch other men scope you out, drooling over my gorgeous muscle hunk as you rack it up and lift hard, the impressed looks on their faces obvious as they watch your delicious bubble ass when you perform expert squats. I've joked with several guys who've expressed their admiration for your strength to me, that they should be extra impressed because my collar adds at least five pounds to the weights (certainly an exaggeration, but an effective one). You've taught several guys new exercises, traded workout plans, spotted each other... you're always perfectly polite, laid-back and friendly. The rule is, no flirtation or sex of any kind, not even a quick grope, without me there, and not in the gym proper. When we're here, I tone way down on the kinds of sexual antics I usually subject you to while we're out-- partly to honor my contract with Frank, but mostly because it would be way too easy for serious injury by mixing sex with weights.
I'm working just as hard as you, maybe even more so, because in addition to executing my own reps and sequences of exercises, I'm scanning around the gym, figuring out who I'll let use you afterwards, and how. It's really unlikely I'll luck out and find someone here who's interested in full-on feeding you (not to mention being able to), but I've got a couple of ideas on how to get delightfully close. Someday, I will make you beg to eat a man's shit here at the gym, and record the whole thing as you struggle to chew and swallow his filthy waste-log... but that will take some doing, and it'll need Frank's clearance too (and participation? I wonder... he definitely seems like a pig who doesn't quite realize he's a pig). In the meantime, as I move from one station to the next, I happen to pass by a buddy who's used you several times and always seems up for another go. "Hey, Matt, good to see you man," I say as I shake his hand. Matt is younger and a hot jock-- lean, mostly smooth, both arms sleeved in really sexy ink (I know there's more under his clothes too). He's the chillest, most laid-back guy, but he fucks like the goddamn Energizer Bunny when he's inside you: hard and fast, deep and long, never tiring out till his whole tight body just convulses in a giant orgasm. Anyway, I tell him now, "If you feel like a warm mouth next time you have to piss, give me the signal and I'll have my faggot take care of you in the stalls."
Matt reaches out and wraps my hand in his, arm-wresting style, saying, "Right on, man. I always appreciate the chance to use your boy."
I smile like I'm brushing it off. "Eh... he needs to stay hydrated." We both chuckle and move apart. It's only about 10 minutes later that he catches my eye, tugs on his right earlobe, and moves towards the men's locker room. I look around for you, and walk over. "Two minutes to get to the stalls. You'll be drinking Matt's piss, and thanking him for the opportunity." You nod your head, excited and flushed with anticipation of being used-- it's always hot to see you like this.
"And faggot," I growl in an undertone low enough so only you can hear it, but loud enough that there's a risk. You look up nervously and glance around. "Don't spill a single drop."
"Of course not, Sir. Thank you, Sir." you reply softly. I head immediately to the locker room, letting you lag behind so it's not obvious. I've had to have a serious talk with one or two guys who try to figure out when I'm going to have someone use you, so they can follow us in and watch-- or join. "Strictly by invitation, boys," I've told them. "I know you just want a piece of his amazing faggot pussy, but only when I say so." They usually nod, basically understanding if a bit dejected. "If you become a pain in my fucking ass, I'll have Frank kick yours to the goddamned door. My bitch, my rules, my choice. Got it, lads?" After they agree, I shake their hands and give them a nod, so they know I'm serious, but a good man. "If I say yes to you, guys, that pussy will never say no... that I can promise. The fucking slut is always craving cock, but it all follows MY say-so."
When I walk into the restroom part of the locker room, Matt is pacing around, trying not to look like he's there for a hook-up. He's a good kid, fun to hang out with, and he gets the vibe between him and us just right. I go over and give him a quick kiss, briefly holding the back of his head. "Is there an open stall?" I ask him, and he nods, heading towards it. "Same as usual, then. You and him inside with the door open, me standing outside so I can enjoy the show, and I'll warn you if anyone comes near." The urinals are close by and in the right direction so that I can give a warning to you two while moving immediately towards them, so it just looks like I'm going for a piss.
When you come in and see me, you walk directly over. I pat your cheek and give you a quick kiss too. "There's my fag. Matt here has a full bladder, and you're going to take care of him. Aren't you boy?"
"Yes, Sir, of course Sir." You turn towards Matt.
"Ask him politely, faggot. He's a good friend, so he gets the royal treatment." Not that I let you give sub-par service to anyone.
"Sir... may I please drink your piss for you, Sir?" you ask him, looking at him at approximately chest-level.
"Look at me, boy," he tells you, and you take a breath and look him in the eye. "You want to guzzle down my jock piss, boy?" Matt asks, for extra humiliation.
You stare directly into his eyes, unblinking. "Yes please, Sir. Please allow me to be your urinal." He nods, and you go in and get down on your knees. First you kiss the crotch of his shorts and say, "Thank you, Sir. If I spill any, please spank my faggot ass to teach me a lesson." Matt gives me an appreciative smile. "He is amazing," he tells me.
"Damn right he is! But he means it, too, Matt, and you should tan his faggot ass if he spills. Though I'll warn you, he gets off on having his butt hauled over a man's knee and blistered. Once before I caged that useless dicklet of his, I made him cum-- the way a man does-- just by paddling that hot muscle ass."
"I believe it," Matt says. Then he whips out his dick, aims perfectly at your mouth, and gushes away, a fucking fire hose of steaming hot jock piss flying right towards you. From the first drop to the last, you swallow like a whore dying of thirst, never missing a beat. The chub you've given me in my shorts is tenting them big time, but at such a busy hour we'd be pushing our luck that there's time for a fuck or a spit-roast without someone walking in uninvited.
So, when you've finished drinking at top speed and you ask me, "Master, should I ask Sir if he wants to fuck my pussy?", I tell you, "Not now faggot, but you're a good little slut for asking. Matt and I are just going to jack off and you can gulp down our sperm before you go." At this point it's not going to take either of us long; I loop an arm around Matt's shoulders, then let it slide down to his waist so I can grab his dick with my other hand; he turns towards me and I kiss his sexy mouth deeply as I jack him off. He takes my cock in his hand, returning each kiss with increasing heat, and we soon pull each other off to two thick, steaming-hot cum wads, all obediently swallowed down by you.
You kiss each cock head once and say, "Thank you Sir, thank you Master." Then we try to go back to our workouts and act normal, pulses racing from the adrenaline. As we walk back out, I decide what Act Two is going to be, and I head towards the front desk and Frank.
"Hey, man, how's it going?" he asks me in his deep bass voice. He holds out a hairy paw and I shake it firmly. That thick thatch of fur spills up from the open collar of his button-down shirt, dense and curly up where it's visible now, becoming soft and straight lower down. I have the urge to run a hand through its tangles, from the top of his broad chest all the way over the taut curve of his stomach and down into his thick bush. He says, "I see that delicious piece of ass you're lucky enough to own is still every inch the handsome stud."
I laugh. "And still every inch the slutty cock whore, man! Mind if I join you a moment?" He nods, and we walk down to the end of the counter so we can talk with less distance between us. "He's such a total slut for use and humiliation, Frank. I am one lucky man indeed, to see his potential and shape him into what he was born to be." I give him a level look. "You'll never guess what I've got him doing now."
"What's that?"
"Total toilet." I flash a big, satisfied smile.
He thinks for a second, then his eyes widen. "No fucking way. Like TOTAL toilet?" I nod. "You made him eat your shit?!?" I nod again.
"The dirty little fag begs me for it now. I've made his pussy cum a bunch of times just from making him chew down my dump. It's amazing. And I want you to be the next one to shit in his mouth."
Now Frank is the one smiling. "Man... that's... I've never done anything like that before, but I won't deny that I've thought about it, or that I'm turned on by your offer." He reaches under his shirt and gives his belly a scratch and a slow, considering rub. I'd reach under and do that to him with my own hand, if we weren't here. "You really think he'd eat my shit?" He adjusts his jeans as if he's getting a hard on in there, which I'm sure he is. Looks like I was right that Frank is not just a muscle-bear stud, but a pig waiting to be unleashed. Luckily, that's one of my many talents.
I tell him, "A few weeks ago he ate my entire dump, then wolfed down my buddy's not ten minutes later. All it took was plenty of cock in his cunt and lots of degrading talk. I'll show you the pics and video sometime. That faggot is a fucking pro, now that I've broken him in and set the desire in him. When those green eyes look deep into yours and he politely and earnestly asks to eat all of your shit? It's amazing."
"Fuck, man, I'm in. But not here." He pauses a moment and his grin turns devilish. "At least not my first time. Even in the storage room at a really slow time, I don't want it to be here until I know what I'm doing. And it's way too busy now to have time for a feeding, I think." He considers. "Besides, I don't even know if I can shit right now."
"How about this. You go to the restroom and see what you can do. If you can get some shit out, don't wipe afterwards." I think for a second. "In fact, you should store whatever you produce between those delightfully furry ass cheeks of yours. I'm sure all that hair can hold onto a lot of filth."
"That's true. Even when I take the time to wipe thoroughly, it's usually a little funky back there. Which, by the way," he adds with a laugh, "I'm usually too lazy to do. I always give it a thorough washing beforehand if I'm planning on getting fucked." A pause, while we're both remembering our last hot, sweaty fuck. It's been a while... I make a mental note to breed this hunk again soon. Maybe I'll have you on hand to lick out Frank's sweaty pits, munch on those nipples, clean up all that cum, even suck my load (and whatever else) out of Frank's butt. Frank breaks my reverie by saying, "I'm sure there will be plenty for your boy to clean up."
"Want to feel him going at it, then? See that all-American military face smeared with your filth and hear him thank you for the honor?" Frank barely has to think before agreeing.
I return to the weights and do a few cool-down type exercises; it looks like you're basically done with your workout, too. I go over to you and say, "Good work in there. I'm pleased. And as always, good work out here, too. You are amazing to watch working out. You're just about done, right?" You nod, saying softly, "Thank you, Sir. I live to please you."
"Frank is going to meet us in your playroom in a bit. It's time you thanked him again for the use of his gym and for your... special privileges." I leave it at that.
Like I said, Frank lights my fire big time, but he isn't the type of man you'd lust after on your own. But your holes go where I say they go, and that always turns you on big time. In fact, being made to service men who aren't fully your type awakens the degraded slut in you; once I get you in that mind space, you go to whatever the task is with gusto.
"Yes, Sir. Absolutely, Sir."
Soon enough we are in the storage room-- Frank has clearly gone round already and unlocked it for us. It's down a back hallway that opens off a part of the gym that's usually pretty empty, so it's smooth sailing to get you-- and however many other guys I've invited-- in there. I walked by the front desk and gave Frank the nod, first, so he'll be there soon. In the meantime, I join you in the room and put you on your knees and fists like the obedient dog you are, facing the door.
Frank walks in, looks at me, glances around towards his back side, and tries to mouth the words "FEELS WEIRD" at me without you noticing. Bingo. I try not to laugh. Crossing the room, Frank hocks up a bit of phlegm, walks right up to you and spits it into your mouth, which has just enough time to open for his gift. He closes your mouth with a hand and lets you swirl the salty blob around a bit before saying, "Swallow that." Part of our contract is that, as long as we've worked out the boundaries beforehand, he can command you directly, too.
"Thank you Sir. My pleasure to service you," you tell him.
For your sake, he looks at me and says so you hear it this time, "Still the hottest piece of faggot ass in the city, man. I appreciate getting to use this handsome whore of yours, buddy. You've trained him so his skills surpass anyone else's I've been with." Which is saying a lot... Frank is a bit of a whore himself.
"Dirty little fuck has come a long way under my care and affection, hasn't he Frank?"
"Right fucking on, he has. But before I plow that sweet cunt of his in two, what's this you were telling me about his new skill?" I swear your ears perk up like a dog's, and I can see your breathing quicken and your heart begin to race. It was one thing to be made to eat Chris' shit in our own home, but to be used as a toilet at our gym? It freaks you out and turns you WAY the fuck on at the same time. But also, it's Frank. There's something about his sturdy solidity that makes guys feel... safe... with him. Like they know they're in good hands with Frank, that he'll take care of them.
I tell you, "Yeah, I told him what a shit-eating toilet fag you've become. How you beg and moan to consume my waste while I fuck your cunt. He's going to be the next man you beg to be his total toilet." Definite dicklet-drooling has started in your shorts, I see. I'm sure your pussy is juicing up, too, getting ready for what it craves, constantly. I throw you a bone. "But sadly he dumped earlier, so you'll just have to cream your panties imagining how it's going to go down when it does happen." I never make you wear panties or anything feminine, but the trash talk gets you hot.
Frank steps in before you can look too disappointed, or lose that hungry needy high we're working you up to. "Instead, faggot, you're going to show your appreciation for all I do for you in a somewhat different way. Your Master and I worked it out just now. What do you say, faggot?"
"Absolutely, Sir. Anything you and Master want, I will do to please you, Sir. Thank you for allowing me to service Sir Frank, Master. How may I please you, Sir?"
"Well eventually I'm going to fuck the lights out of you and blow my wad up your hot little pussy, faggot. But first, you're going to say thank you with that filthy fucking tongue of yours."
Frank is a natural at this when he's feeling dominant. He pulls down his jeans, then his boxers. He turns around and spreads his thick, muscled ass cheeks wide. "Get your face in my fucking shit hole, boy, and see what you can find."
You aren't really hesitating, but for emphasis I go over, bend down, and give your muscle cunt a hard, loud smack. "You heard the man, toilet tongue. Bury your face in his hairy trench and get him cleaned up like the shit-loving fag you know you are."
You stare into Frank's parted ass trench, and I know you can see how slimed with brown it is. Matted clumps of fur caked in shit, enough real estate to stuff your entire face into, enveloped by this stud's filthy butt-waste. I don't know if he's mashed a whole damn turd up in there, or had a big soft dump, or what, but you've got your work cut out for you.
I take out my cock and stroke it so you can see I'm rock hard and getting off on watching you debase yourself. You crawl over to Frank's ass, your hands replacing his holding his cheeks apart. And taking us literally, you put your whole face in that hairy stench-pit, rubbing it all around and making loud moaning sounds, quickly unable to hide that you like it. Your tongue is out soon enough, probing through the forest of shit-stained ass hairs, methodically loosening up the crap and sucking it out. Frank's got a hand around his pole, slowly working himself up, not wanting to get carried away. I know your expert tongue must feel like magic back there, working hard to get his filthy crack spotless again. Frank is moving forward and back a bit, forcing your face to dig deep into his ass; between your legs I can see your dicklet swinging back and forth, dripping useless fluid.
After a few minutes I tell you, "Pull back a second, faggot. I want to see what a fucking brown-noser you are." When you comply, your whole face is stained brown, from your hairline to the sexy stubble on your jaw. It looks disgusting, and very hot. I take a few quick pics and show them to Frank, and then to you. You whimper and buck at the sight of your handsome face totally shit-smeared and sweaty, and your dicklet is drooling all the way to the floor. "Thank you, Sir and Master," you practically whisper, totally turned on at how we've degraded you.
Frank whistles in appreciation. "SUCH a dirty little slut, isn't he? The body of a Greek god, the face of a Marine... and a total faggot born to serve men like us, aren't you?" You're so humiliated, and so turned on by it, all you can do is nod, eyes on the floor.
"Look at Frank, faggot." I tell you. "Tell him what's on your face."
"It's your shit on my face, Sir."
Frank picks the dialogue right up. "Do you like sucking the shit out of my hairy ass, faggot?"
"Yes, Sir! Please let me be your faggot asswipe, Sir. I can't wait till you put me underneath you and make me your toilet, Sir. I'll swallow all of your hot shit, Sir, and beg for more."
"And the dirty little faggot absolutely will, when I order him to," I tell Frank. "Meanwhile, I think you've got more cleaning up to do, asswipe... finish your dirty job, bitch." I grab the back of your neck and push your shit-slimed face back into Frank's crevice. For good measure I smear it all around in there, listening to you moan and pant. I lay my cock on your shoulder so you feel how turned on I am. Damn, now I have the strong urge to push your face out of the way and shit-fuck Frank. I won't do it, of course, not now, but I file it away for later... it would be so hot. I bet I could get Frank to suck me clean afterwards. Seeing his sexy bearded lips wrapped around my shit-covered pole, watching it get all into his beard as he cleans his own shit off me with his mouth... I'd blow another wad easily. But now, his nasty butt furrow is your responsibility. "That's it, faggot. Make out with that shit-coated ass. It's your first date, and you know you want a second one, you dirty slut. Go on... you're not done till you've cleaned every molecule from my friend's back end, faggot."
"And then I'm going to watch your toilet of a face moan like a bitch in heat as I cunt you good," Frank adds.
I move around to Frank's front and unbutton his shirt. I start kissing him deeply as my hands roam wild over all that fur-covered muscle, rubbing his bulging stomach and hefting its bulk, roaming up higher frequently to play with his substantial nipples. It drives him wild, and makes his rub his ass all over your face even more as he and I make out. After a minute he takes his shirt completely off and we're really going at it, my hands all over his large, strong body just as much as his hands caress my hard, smooth muscles. My big, thick pole slaps back and forth against his, our dicks trading cock snot like they're kissing too. Occasionally I aim my cock upwards, to slide through the forest of fur on the underside of his belly and leave my wet trail on him.
He reaches down to take my cock in his hand for a minute, and breaks off the kiss to say softly, "You have SUCH a hot dick, man. Fuck, you have a hot everything, my hot muscle buddy. Including that pig working miracles on my shitter back there."
I smile, holding the back of his neck with my hand. "I always suspected you were a dirty pig in addition to a fucking stud, Frank." He smiles, still grinding every crevice of his ample ass into your face. "Aye aye, Captain," he says with a grin. "Damned if you can't draw out a man's inner desires practically on sight." That's when I form my plan to get Frank to eat shit too. I bet I could do it in a month, if he has enough occasions to play with us. First I'll shit-fuck him like I'm already intending to, and have him suck me clean. Eventually, after enough small steps, I'll drop a big fat turd and have you two share it, shit-kissing mouthfuls back and forth, chomping down on both ends until you meet in the middle with shit-crammed mouths making out madly, getting it smeared in his beard and on your clean-shaven cheeks. I'd certainly have enough time to fuck each of you at least once, if it's a big enough shit log. Which I can arrange.
But by now, you've transferred the rest of Frank's butt slime from his crack to your face-- that is, what you haven't licked up and swallowed, you little whore-- and he turns around, picks you up in his arms, and puts you on your back on a spare table, spreading your legs wide as usual so he can get his bulk on top of you. Not many men can make a muscular athlete like you look like a small boy, but Frank does. He's also an excellent top, taking you slowly at first, making you beg for more, then speeding up hard and deep for a while till you're almost screaming in pleasure, a few actual tears joining the sweat trickling down your shit-covered face. Then he slows down, almost pulls out, makes you beg over and over to be fucked like the faggot you are before he'll start again, makes you tell him how much you loved cleaning his filthy ass, how you can't wait to be his full-service toilet and eat his massive bear shit. You look so nasty, and so fucking amazing being used like this-- whoever the Greek god of toilet faggots is, you're his spitting image. It's so hot I blow my load twice. The first load, I squirt between you two, right where you're coupling, adding a bit of extra lube, though your cunt gets wet enough to not need it. He's spun you up and made you crash down something like four times, always stopping just before he cums, leaving you mad with the need to feel him explode in your guts. He finally does so, his whole hairy body shuddering on top of you, balls deep in your velvety pussy, your moans falsetto-high, 100% real, and loud enough to make a whole neighborhood of dogs bark. That's when I blow my second wad all over your face, out of breath myself from watching you be the nasty, dirty faggot you were born to be. I have you kiss Frank's feet after he pulls out of your pussy, thanking him for the abuse. It takes us almost 10 minutes for us to stop sweating and panting, and of course we make you clean us and the room up before it's time to go.
You don't get to clean up, though. With the literal sweat and tears you put out, a lot of Frank's shit-slime and my cum have washed off your face, but there are still definite traces. Your final, slutty reward will be having to walk out of that gym with those remnants on your face. Frank's load will ooze out of your cunt onto the back of your shorts, and I bet your dicklet will still be weeping enough to make a second stain in the front. Combined with my ever-present collar around your neck, the person who walked in like a total stud will walk out like a thoroughly used, dirty little faggot, which might be enough to carry your freshly-fucked pussy over the finish line and make it cum. Or leave you even hornier if it doesn't. I like leaving you horny and craving more.
Spoiler alert: it only took three weeks for me to unleash the shit pig in Frank; I'd always suspected he could get into it. The first two times, Frank was the one cleaning out my shitty butt crack after he gave me a blumpkin on the toilet so he could watch-- and smell-- as I shat; the first time my ass was just somewhat funky, but the second time definitely brown. Since I'm naturally pretty smooth and usually shave most of the rest to show off my physique, he could definitely see what he was getting into, and he barely hesitated, at least not with my strong encouragement. After that I did shit-fuck him as intended, and it didn't take much to get him to suck me clean afterwards; he swallowed small amounts of his own shit that time, and really got off on it.
You two eventually do share my turd, just as I want. He cums twice without ever touching himself, before you two finish the massive log I drop (I save up for two days); once in a gurgle of surprise after you pass him the first mouthful in a hot, shitty kiss and he swallows it, I think without really intending to... and the second time with my fat cock buried deep in his hairy hole, after he's swallowed many mouthfuls more and always seems ready for another. As for you, being ordered to be a shit slut alongside that giant gorilla of a man, feeling his hands all over you and being ordered to make love to that massive muscle-bear body... him pushing mouthfuls of steaming shit into your mouth from his, both of you holding my log in your hands as you bite off another inch from each end, you wrapped up in his sweaty body... all that degradation and toilet service make your pussy orgasm too, and your dicklet oozes so much it almost looks like real cum. Of course I am buried to the hilts inside you when I cum a second time, and afterwards I tell Frank to clean me off in his mouth, and suck everything out of your cunt, which he does with relish. So... another mission accomplished.