This is an erotic fiction story about gay men and boys with emphasis on muscle worship and domination. There is both consensual and nonconsensual sex between characters in this story. If this is not your thing or you are under legal age of consent, please stop now.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not practice safe sex, but keep in mind that this is fiction. In reality, safe sex should always be practiced. This story is entirely fictional and is not meant to depict any characters or places or actual events in real life. Any similarity to reality is entirely coincidental.
This story is for your personal use only. Any other use or transfer to another site is prohibited without the consent of the author. (gladiatorkid@hotmail.com)
BUFFALO BOB
PART TWO
So, where did that leave me? Was I going to be Buffalo Bob's slave? That's what he said, he said I would be his slave. My mind was going a million miles a minute and I didn't have a clue how to deal with this.
I've studied psychology, hell, my doctorate is in psychology, but Bob was better at it than I was. He knew exactly what he was doing as he took control of me. I was terrified of him and what he was doing to me, but I'd never been so turned on in my life. I didn't know what to do but as scared as I was, I wanted more. Yes, I wanted to worship that demigod. He was gorgeous and powerful, and in some ways, I was actually feeling honored that he was interested in me. Me, the mild-mannered college professor, and him, the magnificent giant.
Yeah, Bob was special, and I knew he deserved entitlement and privilege. I mean, can you even imagine what it took to build that stupendous body of his? Was he the better man? Of course he was. I may be his professor and well educated, and he may be my student, but Buffalo Bob is a god.
However, I don't think it mattered what I thought, because Bob was clearly in charge, and he was going to make the decisions, and I knew I was going to acquiesce.
I was nervous as hell before my next lecture, wondering if I could even function with him sitting there in front of me. But when he arrived it became even worse because he was making a statement to me. He was wearing the same shirt he'd torn the sleeve off of in my office.
His standard uniform had always been the same, a tight wife beater with a mostly unbuttoned long sleeve shirt over it with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Now, for the first time, he was wearing a shirt with both sleeves torn off showing enormous round deltoids and massive, glorious arms. And those arms were massive, and they were glorious, and everyone in the room noticed.
He was clearly making a statement to me since I was the only one who knew. My assistant Claire said wow' while Jerry said, Jesus' and even Larry, my other assistant said, `no way'. I swear, half the students in the room swooned when he walked down to his seat right in front of me.
My assistants sat down as I cleared my throat to begin the lecture. I knew my face was red and I was starting to sweat, but what could I do about it? I could only hope the students wouldn't make a connection, but that was probably a forlorn hope. What did Judy think, having seen Bob in that shirt in my office on Friday? I think everyone in the class could see something was going on, even though the only change in the room was Beefcake Bob's arms.
But...., I'm a professional. I'm a good teacher and I love my subject matter and I love lecturing to young people.
So, I started my lecture and after a couple minutes I calmed down enough to act normally.
When I reached the end of class period, and with my three assistants standing next to me, I started discussing the term paper they had to write.
Bob raised his hand and stood up. This was unusual because the students didn't standup until I called on them. It was also unusual because Bob had never raised his hand. And today, because of the way he was dressed, everybody knew something was up.
I almost stopped breathing; I was so nervous He was going to embarrass me, I knew it, and maybe even out me right here in front of the class.
"Ah.... Bob" I said and the instant I said it I knew it was a mistake. There were sixty-five students in the lecture hall, and I was not supposed to know their names. Some of the students were going to question why I knew his name.
"Ahhh, teach" he said. Rudely? You bet. I'm his professor and you don't call your professor: teach. "My term paper is about health and athletics, and .... ah .... bodybuilding in the sixteenth century." That got a laugh from the class since who else would think of writing about bodybuilding. "Can you recommend some references for this subject?"
I took a deep breath; I was off the hook. He was making a point, but he wasn't going to embarrass me.
"Jerry" I said, turning to my assistant, Bob's instructor.
"I don't think you'll find much about bodybuilding in the sixteenth century" Jerry said, and everybody laughed. "But I can give you some ideas about health and fitness. We'll talk about it in class tomorrow."
"Ah, teach ...." Bob started to talk.
"Okay, that's all for today" I said quickly before Bob had a chance to continue. I took a big breath of relief as everyone got up and started to leave. I gathered my papers, put them in my briefcase and as I looked up, Bob was standing in front of me.
Instant shock! What was he going to do? Students were still in the room, and my assistant Jerry was standing right behind me.
He raised his arm, that enormous muscular hunk of muscle, and rubbed his fingers through his hair, pretending he was not deliberately flexing it in my face.
"Gimmy your address and your cell number" he said as he rubbed his fingers through his hair a second time, getting a good bicep flex.
"Ah .... Bob....?" I said, startled.
He just looked me in the eye for a few seconds, clearly intimidating me, and then said: "do it."
Here we go again. I was frightened (was he going to come to my apartment?), but I also felt a shot of heat-lightening shoot through my body from head to toe (he was going to come to my apartment !!!). Instant hard-on. I looked around and saw Jerry giving me a questioning look and a few students looking our way.
But I wanted this. I did. Hell yes, I did. I was excited.
Looking at Jerry, I just shrugged my shoulders and turning back to Bob, I pulled out a business card. I wrote my address and phone number on the back of the card and handed it to him.
"My hands are full, coach" he said which was absurd because he'd just been fluffing his hair with an empty hand. "Slip it into my pocket." As I reached for his shirt pocket he said: "my pants pocket." Jerry was still looking, but fuck it. I looked down and saw what his left hand had been doing all period; an enormous bulge showing off to the left.
And, believe it or not, even a mild mannered professor can be daring, because I gave that big lump a good squeeze as I slipped the card into his pocket. I swear to God, that was the most daring thing I'd ever done in my life. He gave me a smile like you wouldn't believe. No smirk, just a glorious smile.
"Thanks coach" he said as he gave me a wink and turned away.
Jesus, what had I done? I grabbed the cock of one of my students. What the hell was I thinking? And Jerry? What could I say, he had seen everything? I avoided looking at him as I picked up my briefcase and left the room.
I had my weekly meeting with my grad student instructors the next morning and was worried how Jerry would react. He heard everything and had to wonder why I would give away my address and phone number, but he didn't say anything. No reaction at all. Jerry might have been gay, but I didn't know, and I didn't care. But whatever, I was surprised that he didn't say anything, but I was also relieved. Evidently, he was just going to ignore it, pretend it never happened.
I was on pins and needles for the next few days but nothing from Bob. In class he reverted to his normal activity: his legs spread wide with his left hand busy in his crotch. He only wore the torn shirt that one day, then went back to the rolled-up sleeves. I knew something was going to happen and I was on edge but as each day went by, I got less apprehensive. I was of two minds because he scared me. Hell yes, he did. Partly because he was simply so enormous physically, and partly because he seemed to have no limits on his actions, but in truth, every time I even thought of him, I got a hard-on. Remembering him making me kiss his bicep blew me away and gave me chills; chills of excitement. After all, I'm gay and he is simply spectacular, and anybody would want him. I wanted him. I had wet dreams imagining him taking me to bed and .... and .... abusing me.
After a week went by, I relaxed somewhat and faced the reality that I couldn't let this continue, so I decided to discuss it with Jerry. After all, he was the instructor.
"Start pushing them on their term paper" I said to my three grad students. "Pin them down on the subject this week and see if they can get going on a first draft. Time's flying."
"Okay" they all said as they gathered up their papers and started out of the office.
"Jerry, would you stay behind for a few minutes?" I said. "I'd like to talk to you about one of your students." Jerry looked startled as he turned back and looked at me.
"Bob" he said.
I laughed aloud; we were on the same wavelength. "I call him Buffalo Bob, or maybe Beefcake Bob" I said. Jerry laughed along with me, but he didn't sound like it was funny. He had a frown on his face not a smile.
"Are you having a problem with him?" I asked, noticing the frown.
"No, no, not at all."
"But you guessed he was the one I wanted to talk about."
"Well, he does stand out among the crowd, and he's very aggressive."
"Oh, aggressive? Is he a problem?"
"No, no, no not at all. No, not aggressive. I didn't mean that. Sorry, I didn't mean aggressive. I meant, he .... he's different, he stands out. I mean really, no, not a problem."
Now he had me wondering. His face turned white, and he was stuttering and obviously being defensive and way over-reacting. Something was going on. Was Bob coming on to him the way he was coming on to me?
"What's going on Jerry. What's Bob doing in your class? Has he got you buffaloed?" I chuckled as I said it.
"Sorry Professor, I didn't mean to sound defensive. Bob's okay. He's a hunk and he knows it so he tends to be arrogant. But he participates in class just like everyone else."
"Are you sure?" I asked. "You're keeping him in line? You have no problems with him in class?"
"No Professor. Everything's fine. No problems. None at all. Nada." From the way he was reacting I still had my doubts, but I had to accept his assurances.
It was the very next day that was the beginning of my undoing.
It was just before ten o'clock in the evening and I was in my living room going over my lecture notes when there was a knock on the door. I literally jumped to my feet in shock because very seldom did anyone knock on my door, and never at ten o'clock at night. I knew who it had to be. No one else would come to my door at that hour, so it had to be Buffalo Bob.
What was I going to do? My heart started beating a mile a minute as I slowly walked to the door. What should I do? He was my student; I was his teacher. I could handle him, couldn't I?
But I knew I couldn't. I knew I couldn't handle him. I opened the door.
"Don't lock your door in the evening anymore" he said as he came in, pushing past me. "I'll be damned if I'll knock and wait at the door of my peons."
"Huh?" was all I said. Totally flabbergasted by this kid as he pushed me aside.
He turned to face me. "Close the damn door" he ordered. I was breathless and shaking as I looked at him in shock. But I closed the door.
He was dressed in his normal outfit, the wife beater with an unbutton shirt and rolled up sleeves. As I stood there in shock, he gave me a big smile; no, a big smirk, definitely a smirk. He pulled the shirt out of his pants, unbuttoned the bottom two buttons and started pulling it off. As to be expected the shirt was so tight around the biceps that he literally had to peal it off. He dropped the shirt on the floor and walked over to me.
"You loved it so much last time, I thought I'd give you another chance" he said as he flexed his right bicep and pushed it in my face. "You know what to do."
This was going way too fast, and I was still in shock at his being here. He hadn't even been here for a minute yet, and he was already intimidating me.
"Listen ...." I started to say. He slapped me across the face, hard.
"Do it" he snapped at me. "Put your lips right here."
But I was angry. Twice my size or not, nobody had the right to hit me. Nobody had hit me since I was on the playground in elementary school.
"Now just a god-damn minute" I shouted. "You son-of-a ...."
That was as far as I got before he rammed his elbow against my throat and slammed me back against the door, my head banging violently against it. Looking down into my face from almost a foot above me, he snarled: "If you ain't kissing my bicep in about ten seconds I'm going to tear you a new asshole." He rammed his arm against my throat again, then pulled back and slapped me again.
I kissed his bicep.
Bob is huge. I can be angry all I want but he could squash me like a bug if he wanted to, so of course I kissed his bicep.
He let me continue for a couple minutes, allowing me to continue kissing. Then he put a big hand around my neck, pushed me back against the door and lifted me off my feet up to his height so he was looking me straight in the eye.
"I can be rough on you if I have to," he said softly and calmly as he held me up off my feet with one hand. "In fact, it's kinda fun." Then he smiled at me. Not a smirk, but a real smile. "It's up to you." He let go and I slid down the door to the floor. Continuing to smile he said: "If you ever shout at me again, I'm going to hurt you." I found that smile and his soft-spoken voice scarier than if he were shouting at me. It sounded chilling, bloodcurdling.
I stood there frozen as he stepped away into the middle of my living room and turned to me, still showing that big smile. "You don't mind if I get comfortable, do you?" He pulled his wife beater up and off showing his massive upper body. I was terrified. Of course, I was terrified, he was a giant. This kid was out of control and there was no question he could do anything he wanted to me, and it was obvious he had plans.
Even as gorgeous as he was, I was not lusting for him. I just wanted to do whatever was necessary so he wouldn't hurt me. I just wanted to survive and get him out of my apartment.
"Come here" he said as he stretched, forcing his enormous muscles to bulge everywhere.
"Bob. Please" I said, actually whispering, whimpering. "Please ...."
Showing that big smile on his face he raised his hand and gave me the `come-hither' motion with his finger. I hesitated for only a few seconds before I walked over to him. I was shaking but I knew I had no choice but to obey him.
"Hands behind your back" he said sweetly. "I'm going to tell you some things and I think it's better if you don't talk. I don't like having to argue." He reached up and stuck a couple fingers between my lips. "Open." Forcing my mouth open, he stuffed his wife beater in and kept pushing until my mouth was full, the rest of it was hanging down over my chest. "There, that's better, I like you this way." He gave me a couple `friendly' pats to the cheek and kept smiling. I knew I needed to argue with him, reason with him to try to stop him from doing what he was doing, but that would have to wait, because I knew I didn't dare pull the shirt out of my mouth.
"Pick up my shirt and fold it nicely" he said as he walked over and sat in my easy chair, my TV chair. After I picked up the shirt and folded it, he sent me to the kitchen to get him a beer.
"Stand here in front of me and pay attention," he said as he took his first slug of the beer. "First off, I'm not going to hurt you. In fact, we're going to have fun together. I know you're a fag and we're going to do things that fags enjoy, like sucking and fucking and stuff. A skinny old guy like you, you're going to be thrilled to get it on with me. Hell, I'm a fuckin demigod. Anybody would give their right arm to get it on with me. So, you got that? We're going to have fun. Nod your head."
I nodded my head yes. In truth, it didn't sound near as bad as I expected. Evidently, he's going to fuck me, but since he's the hunk that I've had the hots for since day one, why would I object? I know he'll be rough, but rough sex ain't all bad when you're getting it from the hottest guy on the planet.
"Now, let's settle up. The way if figure, you owe me a hundred bucks."
"Mmmm?"
"Yeah, a hundred bucks. Forty for me and sixty for the shirt you tore. Cough it up." The shirt I tore? He didn't mention that he still owned the shirt and had worn it to class and looked incredibly sexy in it with his arms bare.
I just stood there looking completely bewildered. Did he really mean this?
"I said cough it up" he snapped at me. "Go get it." Luckily, I had been to the bank, and I had just under two hundred dollars in my wallet. I got a hundred dollars from it and handed it to him, and he put it in his pocket without a word.
"Good. Now get that damn thing out of your mouth and get down here on your knees." I just looked at him. What? Did he really mean .... "Move your ass, I ain't got all night. Get down on your damn knees."
He was going to let me suck him. I had no doubts the hottest kids in this university would jump and the chance to get on their knees in front of this Greek god, but it looked like he was going to let me do him. Hell, forget the student-teacher relationship, I wanted him. My fear of him was quickly changing to lust. I pulled his shirt out of my mouth and got on my knees in front of him. I waited for him to tell me what he wanted.
"Well?" he finally said as I sat there waiting for direction. So, I went ahead and undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and pulled the zipper down. He didn't object.
"I hope you're better than Jerry. He gives a shitty blowjob." That got my attention. So he was into Jerry, intimidating him and taking control just like he was doing with me. "Making Jerry blow me is kind of fun because he thinks he's straight and doesn't want to do it, so I have to put the screws to him." He laughed. "But his choking all the time is a real pisser. You're a faggot so I'm expecting great things from you."
As expected, Bob's cock was big and beautiful; some guys have it all. I'm not sure if it was fully hard yet but it looked to me nine or even ten inches already. It was the most beautiful uncut cock I'd seen in my life, and as I glanced up at him, I recognized that it was attached to the most ruggedly handsome muscled kid I'd ever seen.
"I knew you'd like it" Bob chuckled as he saw the amazed look on my face. "I've had plenty of schoolteachers blow me, but never a college professor, so this should be good. So go ahead cocksucker, show me what an experienced faggot can do."
He was doing his best to humiliate me and in the back of my mind (way in the back) I still had a picture of how bad this was for me, a college professor, on his knees in front of his student. But in the forefront of my mind that image was completely blown away because I wanted him, I wanted to suck the most beautiful cock in the world on the most beautiful guy in the world.
I licked up and down Bob's fat cock.
Bob laughed, a big belly laugh. "Oh, shit yeah. Go to it teach. Kiss it for me. Kiss my big dick. Make love to it."
So, I kissed it. I was totally into it now, lust having completely taken over. I kissed up and down the big shaft.
"Oh, yeah. Now lick it, lick that big dick. And rub your nose against it, rub you nose up and down while you lick. I want to see it in your face." Bob was obviously into giving instructions and was not going to let me do my own thing, but that was okay. I was so caught up in the moment that I would do anything he wanted. So, I licked it, and I rubbed my nose against it.
"Doin good fag. Doin good," he said as he let me continue licking for a couple minutes. Then he grabbed me by the hair and pulled my head up. "Look at me faggot." I looked up.
He had this enormous grin on his face as he looked me in the eye. "Damn this is good. My college professor sucking my cock." Holding me there by my hair, he started banging his enormous cock in my face. It was fully hard now and had to be ten inches, and he started laughing as he banged it against my face. "You're loving this, aren't you?" he said. "Shit yes you are. Me banging my big cock against your face. Shit, you must be in heaven."
He kept banging it against my face of a couple minutes, and then holding it steady, pushed it between my lips, shoving three or four inches into my mouth.
"It's time baby. Here's what you've been waiting for. Get to it." I started sucking.
And, yeah, I'm a good cocksucker. Yes, I'm gay, and yes, I love sucking dick. And this dick was the most beautiful one I'd ever seen. In my mind, I tried to avoid thinking of him as my student, but to focus on him being anonymous and the most gorgeous man in the world. I was going to enjoy the moment and I refused to think of any possible repercussions from my sucking a student.
I concentrated on enjoying the moment and giving this demigod the best blowjob he'd ever had. He was going to love it and I was going to love giving it to him. I took a glance up and saw he had put his head back and his mouth was open, so he was clearly enjoying what I was doing.
I said I love sucking dick and this dick was like no other, so just as he said, I was in heaven.
I didn't try to take all ten inches, but I took a lot of it, and I gave him a hell of a lot of suction as I sucked away. I kept my tongue busy, sometime teasing just the tip, and other times slobbering up and down the shaft. It didn't take long before he started moaning softly as I worked on him. "Jesus, you've got a mouth on you" he whispered through the moaning. "Jeee-sus."
It was clear I was doing a good job and it wasn't going to take very long to bring him off, his dick was already throbbing. So, I decided to go for it, giving him one hell of a super blowjob. I sucked up a storm. It only took a couple minutes.
"Aaaaaaaaa, shit" he screamed. "Shit, shit, shit." He let loose and fired into my mouth and kept firing as I gobbled up his cum like there was no tomorrow. The only thing better than sucking on a cock is sucking up a guy's cock juice. I love it.
There was no question he was incredibly turned on because he was shooting enormous wads of cum into my mouth. I sucked every bit of it down and after he finished, I continued sucking on his dick. A beautiful guy, a beautiful dick, and a beautiful blowjob, what more could a guy ask for? No thoughts of him being a student, but just a gorgeous young man with a gorgeous cock that I could fall in love with.
"Shit, fag" he said, (which kind of burst my bubble), "that was terrific. I've never had a blowjob like that." He grabbed my hair and pulled my head up. "You were terrific. We're definitely going to do this again. Lots of times."
He just looked at me for a bit and then took a deep breath forcing that big chest to expand. "Oh, man, that was good" he said as he pushed me back onto my butt on the floor and stood up. "Get my shirt." He started fixing his pants.
"Ahhh, Bob ...." I started to say. Reality was starting to set in, and I was seeing a student standing in front of me again instead of a sex object. He certainly got my attention by saying we had to do this again, but no matter how much I liked it, there was no way I could let it happen again. I knew that.
"Ah Bob ...." I started again but he interrupted me. "Don't make me stuff my wifebeater in your mouth again, teach. I ain't going to argue with you so don't piss me off. Just shut up and get my shirt." I picked up his shirt and handed it to him without saying a word. He slipped into it without bothering with the buttons, keeping his sexy chest showing. "You can keep my wifebeater, maybe I'll let you wear it the next time you blow me."
"Bob ...." I tried again.
"Shut up. I said you're a good cocksucker but don't let it go to your head." He towered over me, looking down with an annoyed look on his face. "I don't give a shit if you're a professor, you're still just a faggot, you're my faggot, and you'll do whatever the hell I want you to do." He raised his arms, performing a double bicep pose, those huge biceps damn near bursting their way out of the shirt. "You're lucky the hottest stud on the block even allows you suck him. You should be kissing my feet in appreciation."
And I had to admit to myself that that was absolutely true. I should have been kissing his feet in appreciation. I'd never sucked a cock like that before, and I wanted to do it over and over again. Hell, it was an honor to serve a god. And Buffalo Bob was a god.
He walked over and opened the door. "Don't forget what I said about the lock." He walked out without closing the door.
to be continued
Duane (aka: gladiatorkid) `gladiatorkid stories'
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