Disclaimer: This story deals with mature subject matter and involves intimate gay sex. If it is illegal for you to read such material, due to your age or location, then please don't. If you are offended by acts of sexuality between consenting and non-consenting adults, then Do Not Read this story.
The author does not necessarily condone or subscribe to the behavior discussed in this story. It was written strictly as a form of entertainment and acts described should not be attempted by anyone that does not know what the hell they are doing. Any similarity with existing persons would be accidentally as the whole story is pure mad fantasy.
The Mission (Part 8)
Chuck was sulky. Ever since Brock Rowley had dismantled him, the hunky marine was pondering his revenge. However, he had been kicked from the team and instead Taylor and Lee had done the job. Chuck disliked both of them. Why did the Corps have to hire a gook and a beach bum to pursue their matters? Brock had just been lucky; if he had been given another chance, he would have served the Rowley's to Dwight on a silver platter. Chuck toke on his joint and inhaled the weed deeply.
Taylor spotted the base's hunky wrestling champ at the bar. Chuck was dressed in a skin tight white T-shirt that was perfectly outlining his sculpted pecs, the big man tits and the chiseled abs. He wore his camo pants and high-polished black army boots and he was obviously in a sullen mood. Carefully, Taylor approached the brawny marine, who was sitting with one cheek of his bubble-butt on a bar chair, balancing his beefy body on the foot-rest. A half-empty bottle of Bourbon was in front of him.
"Trying to get wasted, huh?"
Chuck turned his mohawked head to Taylor. His eyes narrowed. The surfer boy, just what he needed.
"Buzz off!" the marine took another drag from his joint.
"Hey man, I just want to say, I am truly sorry, that we started badly, honestly ... I ... I mean we are a team after all, huh?" Taylor sputtered. He was still dressed in the chauffeur uniform. The jacket was open. He had removed the tie and the white shirt was unbuttoned half way down to his waist, revealing his smooth, tanned chest. The 22-year-old had put the cap backwards on his head. The bleached hair was hanging loosely down to his shoulders -- no pony-tail today.
"Forget it! I am not part of the fuckin' team anymore." Chuck grunted sullenly and slurped from the Whisky.
"Don't be like that, man. Hey, can I have a drag?" Taylor showed a wry smile.
"Get your own weed and leave me alone, will `ya?" Chuck barked loathing.
"Ok, ok. At least I had to try," Taylor sighed," I just wondered, whether you'd like to get even with the Rowley hunk."
Taylor was about to turn away, when his shoulders were seized. Chuck pulled him back.
"Brock? What's it about him?" Chuck asked sharply.
"Ah! Now you want to talk with me," Taylor smirked.
"Don't push it, surfie. What is it, you wanted to tell me about Brock?" Chuck demanded. His fingers were digging painfully in Taylor's shoulders.
"I want a drag first. Aww, man you're hurting me!" Taylor was writhing in Chuck's strong grip.
"Fuck you, sissy! Toke it!" Chuck pushed his hand into Taylor's face and stuffed the joint between the grinning lips. Taylor inhaled luxuriously.
"Ah shit! That was good!" he moaned exalted.
"Now!? Chuck's face was very close now. Taylor could smell both booze and drug in the marine's breath.
"We have put him upstairs in a sling. He is out cold ... whoa...w-what?" Taylor's shoulder was seized again and he was pushed towards the stairs.
"Show me!" Chuck said calmly, while he was hustling Taylor up the stairs.
"I don't know. Dwight might not like that," Taylor winced.
"Fuck Dwight! Tell me where the fucker is! Do I have to beat it outta your fuckin' mouth?" Chuck threatened.
"There!" Taylor pointed to a door on the left of the aisle. A red `occupied' sign was on, but Chuck didn't care. He barged inside the room.
Walls, floor and ceiling were painted black. Spot lights were focused on the heavy buck-naked body of Brock Rowley slowly swinging in the center. Wrists and ankles were securely attached to the four chains suspending the all-black leather sling into which the beefy body was forced. The hunk was still out cold. The head was lolling down, the long wavy hair almost touching the floor. Duct tape was covering the mouth. The eyes were closed.
"Fuck!" Chuck took in the sight of the V-spread brawny thighs, spreading the cleft between the melon-shaped butt cheeks vulnerable for any attack.
"Pay back time," Chuck muttered. He peeled the T-shirt from his torso. Without turning around, he ordered Taylor: "Shut the door and don't let anybody in until this is finished!"
Taylor watched the big marine unbuckling his leather belt. The camo pants were sliding down on the tops of the army boots. When the jockstrap was pushed down, Chuck's already throbbing shaft encircled by accentuated veins was falling heavy into the marine's open palm.
"Come on baby," The stud spat on the dark-red swollen mushroom head. He was already so turned on, that it took Chuck only a few strokes to pump his man meat to full stiffness.
"Yeahhhhh!" ramming his fuck pole brutally up Brock's relaxed chute he let out a guttural roar. This was the moment he had longed for. Now he would get even.
Taylor was licking his lips. Brock was a mountain of bulky muscle. Even bound and controlled by strong chains of stainless steel he was a prime sample of an alpha male to behold. The younger marine although well-muscled looked almost dwarf-like in front of Brock's exuberant virile physique. However, what ever Chuck was lacking in substance, he made it up by his agility. The chiseled body of the wrestler was relentless in his attack on the prone giant. Chuck's smooth beefy butt was thrusting back and forth as he humped the tethered hunk. The young marine stood steady his legs spread wide apart. With flexing biceps he was holding the muscular thighs and pulled the swaying body, impaling the helpless ass until his swollen dick disappeared up to the hilt. Taylor couldn't but admire the marine stud. Despite his macho ego, he was a great fucker after all. Taylor started to undress.
Determined to savor every second of his revenge, Chuck took his time. Again and again his now glistening slippery cock slid almost out of Brock's tight ass. He waited a few moments and sank his dick again into the moist hole, savoring every instant of his revenge. Although he had not used any lube, Brock's anal passage felt incredibly juicy. Inside the warm ass, the stimulant had completely dissolved and created a slippery film coating the entire of Brock's rectum. With each trust, Chuck's hefty shaft was coated as well. The stimulant was absorbed by the swollen mushroom-head and made it increasingly sensitive.
"Huh...huh...huh," Chuck started to gasp, when his juice started churning inside his bouncing nuts.
Taylor stripped from his trousers. Searching the pockets he found the small pouch of coke he had taken from Brock's jeans earlier.
"Oh yeah, fuck...huh, that feels sooo good!" The studly marine had never enjoyed a fuck like this before in his life. Brock's ass seemed to get hotter by the minute and each thrust made him hornier.
"Now you get it, motherfucker," Chuck changed his position. Plunging as deep into the tight hole as possible he bent forward and reached for Brock's shoulders. He steadied his body as firm as possible and started to buck. Only his hips were hammering now. The pleasure was intense. His dick was on fire working the ass-hole like a piston. His hunky body was sweating heavily.
Taylor, who had stripped naked by now, moved closer. He had a good view on Chuck's puckered hole that appeared between the flexing buttocks. Taylor spat in his hands and distributed his saliva generously over his quickly hardening dick.
"Mmmmm...", a moan from Brock signaled that the hunky foreman was finally coming around. His head rose slowly until his eyes met with Chuck's triumphant eyes.
"How does it feel, motherfucker? I've got your ass and this time I'll fuck you raw," Chuck gloated. He was breathing heavily and a thick layer of sweat had formed on his back.
"Mmmpph..."muffled groans emanated from Brock's taped mouth. Regaining his senses he was thrown into a whirl-pool of animalistic lust. His ass was plowed relentlessly and his prostrate seemed to sizzle. His eyes almost popped from their sockets, when his body contracted in uncontrollable spasm of ecstasy.
"Oh, shit!" Chuck's hypersensitive dick was sending shockwaves through his system. First contractions of his balls told him he was close to shoot his cum inside the guts of his nemesis. He surrendered uninhibited to his lust and indulged into the sweet weakness that preceded the climax.
"Fuck! Oh yes! It cums...." Chuck gasped.
Taylor's well-lubricated cock stood at attention. He let it flip several times against his nice abs to test that it was hard. He tore the pouch open with his teeth and rubbed the white powder into the palms of his spit-coated hands.
"Uhh! Fuck! I'll fill you with my fuckin' load!" Every muscle in Chuck's body was pumped by now. The whole muscular frame was rigid and the sweaty skin had turned into an almost crimson color. Taylor knew by experience that the hollering muscle-stud was weak in this aroused state. With his entire mind focused on carnal lust he could be taken, same as he had taken his big brother many times.
Taylor took a short startup and took a flying leap landing flat on top of Chuck's sweaty back. The impact made the marine's feet losing their hold. At the next instant the three bodies were swinging wildly.
"What the fuck....?" Chuck yelled in shock, when he felt the weight of Taylor's body on his back. The brat had set up a trap and he had walked into it like a naïve schoolboy.
"Motherfucker! I kill `ya!"Chuck roared. He shook his head to reset his mind from fucking to focus on the attack. Taylor felt the muscular body beneath tightening.
Despite his training, his muscles and his fury, the marine never had a chance. Taylor was rubbing his coke-powdered hands over Chuck's face trying to force as much as possible up the flaring nostrils. Simultaneously he wiggled his hips driving his dick inside Chuck's sweaty crack.
"Mmmphhh...nnnoooo...shitt," Chuck huffed and coughed. The coke stung his eyes, forcing tears out of him. There was a bitter taste in his mouth, numbing his tongue. He clenched his buttocks as he sensed what Taylor was up to, but the young jock was an experienced fucker. In no time Chuck felt the pressure against is pucker.
"No! Get off me, sonofabitch, I'll kill you!" Chuck hollered.
"Why don't you push me off, soldier boy? Your little puckered pussy wants it, huh? Open up your fuckin' cunt!" Taylor held on to Chuck's slippery bucking body for dear life. A few concentrated thrusts from his tapered waist and the sphincter gave in.
"Shiiiitt!" a wild bluster confirmed Taylor's latest marine conquest. Chuck howled in helpless fury when he felt himself opening up inside. The beach bum was fucking him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. His legs were kicking helpless, still unable to regain a firm hold. He knew that the coke would turn him into a fuck toy. He could only wear it out and get even with Taylor later. What else could happen? He would beat the brat to a pulp, no matter what Dwight or Kyle was saying.
"Uuurgh! Fuck!" He was already to close to cumming, unable to muster his legendary stamina. His cock was twitching in Brock's ass. Through his blurred view he caught the sneer in Brock's eyes. But before the humiliation could fully sink in, the drug hit his system. A rush of heat flushed his body and left every square inch of his skin in a state of hypersensitivity.
"Ohh yeah...." the drug-dizzy marine moaned.
"Yes baby, give in to it, squirt your grunt spunk." Taylor reached with one hand around the heaving chest and started to massage the erect nipple.
"Uuuh..nnnoo", the squirming marine moaned in loathing pleasure.
To make matters worse, Taylor got help from a totally unexpected ally. Realizing what was going on, Brock clenched his ass tight. He liked the cock in his stimulated shit-chute. The cocky muscle-boy, whom he had plowed so well, had delivered himself again into a humiliating predicament. He had planned to fuck Brock raw and as it looked he would shoot his fucking load up Brock's ass, but not the way he wanted.
"Huhhhh," Chuck shuddered when his dick was kneaded by Brock's anal muscles. Although he knew it was futile he tried to hold back. There was no way he could spill his man juice, screwed by the beach bum. But Taylor knew exactly what he had to do. He was humping the wrestler slow and steadily. With each thrust he changed the angle to find Chucks pleasure zone. His other hand traveled down, reaching for the tight abs and started to rub them gently.
"Cum for me baby, shoot your load," Chuck heard Taylor's whispering and felt him nibbling at his ear.
"Nnooo..." Chuck groaned and then Taylor's dick touched his prostrate. Sparks were flying through the aroused marine's mind.
"Ooohh nooo! Fuck!" Chuck's back arched. There was no holding back now. Chuck's aching balls tightened and attached themselves to the base of his man-hood; ready to release his juices. Taylor's dick was gliding in and out with an agonizing slowness. Each time he hit the stud's pleasure button, Chuck's body contracted. Soon the spasms occurred in shorter intervals. A finger probed his belly button and then his vision blurred.
"Aaaarghh! Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuckkkk," Chuck shrieked and erupted helpless inside of the equally aroused Brock Rowley.
"Yeah, I'm fucking your grunt spunk right outta your fuckin' nuts," Taylor cheered.
"Urrgh..huhh..huh..uhhh," Chuck's shrieks turned into gasps, while load after load of his cum pulsed through his shaft. Suddenly Brock's sphincter tightened even more.
The chains rattled when Brock's arms and legs pulled at his restraints, while the climax was shaking his body. The construction worker's cock was spewing cum between his and Chuck's belly. Taylor felt warm spurts against the back of his hand while he was massaging Chuck's shivering abs.
The realization that he had fucked two macho studs simultaneously into climax was overwhelming. Brock's head was hanging limp. Chuck's cheek lay on the matted fur of Brock's chest. His glassy eyes stared without focus. He was breathing heavily. The two bodies were slowly swinging in the sling. Apart from an occasional spasm in the aftermath of the subsiding orgasms rippling through the muscular frames, the two marines were motionless.
Taylor who had already recovered crossed Chuck's wrists behind his back and tied them securely with a nylon wrist strap of the same kind they had used on Brock. He fetched the last of the equestrian stimulants and fed the pink pill into the still gaping ass hole. It took a few slaps on the bubble butt until the puckered hole shrank closed. Then he seized the dazed marine's shoulder and pulled him back on his feet. Taylor knew that the coke was rendering Chuck defenseless. He was a sexual basket case soon and would agree to any kind of sex Taylor wanted to.
As if spellbound, a confused Chuck allowed Taylor to pull the jockstrap up and tuck him into his camo pants. But then, watching what Taylor was holding in his hands, his eyes opened wide in shock. With a sudden understanding he realized, that he was going down exactly like Kyle. He wished he hadn't bragged about never submitting to Taylor and he wished as well he had never provoked the brat. Taylor had produced a studded collar and looped it like a choker tightly around Chuck's throat. The marine's face flushed.
"Now, as we know each other a bit more intimate, baby," Taylor grinned while attaching a leash to the collar," we are going to have some real fun. Marines like parades, huh? Well -- let's parade the bar then!"
"N-no!" Chuck struggled against the wrist restraints. There was no way he would allow the brat to parade him through the bar.
"No?" Taylor pulled the leash tight. "Your times to boss people around are gone, soldier boy. Either you will behave, or I'll tie you into that sling and have a fuckin' vibrating butt plug screw you silly. It's your choice!"
"Y-you can't ...," the marine's eyes blinked now fearful.
"Fuck it!" almost in panic he made another futile attempt to break his restraints, the big biceps were bulging. Somehow though, the collar was sapping both his strength and his will to fight. The tight leather strap was cutting into his throat. He was still able to breath, but the choking told his mind that he was trapped and conquered.
"No!" Chuck winced and pulled back.
"You asked for it," Taylor picked up the pouch and emptied the remaining coke in the palm of his hand.
"No, don't ...please nooo!" Chuck realized what was about to happen and flinched back, but Taylor strained the leash.
"Nnnnooawwwmmphh...," his protests were quickly stifled when Taylor forced the drug again up his nose.
"Lucky you, that I didn't ask Billy for the butt plug," Taylor sneered.
"No ma-an, pleazze don't do th-hat." Chuck's voice slurred as the drug was kicking in. "You wonna say me-e I...I...am s-sooorryy, I...I do all that, I'm sorryyy man, but no don't do thisss...oh shit no...noooo."
Chuck's knees buckled and he found himself kneeling and sobbing in front of the brat.
"You are so pathetic, you know," Taylor laughed. "Look what Billy gave me." Taylor presented a dickhead-shaped mouth gag to the startled marine.
"Noommpffff..." Chuck virtually fell apart when Taylor forced the black-colored silicon cock gag inside his mouth. His eyes were pleading, but Taylor showed no mercy and locked the gag's leather strap behind the back of Chuck's head.
"Let's move, baby!" He strained the leash again and forced the marine up on his feet. He laughed when Chuck stumbled after him like an obedient dog. The coke was ravaging his nervous system and his guts were churning. Worse, his body was betraying him utterly by throwing a raging boner that his jockstrap could barely contain.
There was a lot of whistling and hooting when a grinning Taylor dragged the gagged, bare-chested, sweating marine hunk downstairs and paraded him across the bar room to the exit.
A couple of hunky college football players could hardly believe their eyes. The cocky marine had been hanging out with them a couple of times before.
"Shit! I always thought Chuck was 100% top," Blake the Quarterback was talking to Billy, who watched the humiliating spectacle from behind the bar with a broad grin.
"Not anymore," Billy shrugged," judging from his bulge he is having the time of his life."
"Shit, I still can't believe it," Blake sipped his beer and shook his head, watching Chuck and Taylor leaving the bar.
Caught in a state of horny apathy Chuck slumped in the passenger seat of Taylor's Wrangler Jeep. After a 20 minutes ride Taylor stopped the car in front of a shop lot. A signboard above the door read `Foxy Productions Inc.'.
"Hi Taylor, good to see ya," a fat, toad-like man welcomed Taylor who was pulling the choking marine behind him.
"Hey Bobby, are you ready to shoot?" Taylor grinned.
"Sure I am! That's the guy Billy talked about?" Bobby chewed on a cigar.
"Yeah, he is a bit shy, but he has potential, although he's not very bright," Taylor chuckled.
"He has a great bod' and after a shot of poppers he'll fuck like a rabbit in heat," Bobby agreed. "Take him to Studio B, Nick did already set up lights and cams. The guys are waiting. Ah, and don't take off his dog tags, he looks more authentic in those."
"O.K., I promised you a grunt and you'll get one," Taylor dragged Chuck inside the studio. He tossed the leash to Nick the camera man.
"Hi Nick, would you get him ready? I need a drink." Taylor went to the fridge and popped himself a can of Bud. He watched while Nick and his two crew mates were undressing the dizzy marine.
"Hey Tayl, your bloke is leaking." One of the men pointed at the wet spot on the bottom of Chuck's camos soaked by Taylor's cum seeping from the well-plowed ass hole.
"Shall we flush him an enema first?" Nick asked.
"No need to clean him out, it's my own juice," Taylor chuckled.
"Of course, you had your fun already," Nick grinned and pulled Chuck's jockstrap down. The marine's boner popped out like a jack-in-the-box.
"Wow, the boy is in heat," Nick watched the cock pulsing in rhythm with Chuck's heartbeat.
"Bobby wants you to leave the tags on him," Taylor said when the gag was removed.
"Sure," Nick nodded while he was applying baby oil on Chuck's body. The marine moaned softly when the oil was worked into his pecs. Nick twisted the fleshy nipples until they went hard. "Nice tits," he commented. He seized Chucks throbbing dick and oiled it up as well.
"Uhh..." Chuck moaned.
"You are doing fine baby, don't be afraid," Nick assured. He turned to one of his men.
"Joe, get him some poppers, to make the boy feel easy," Nick was working a generous amount of lube between Chuck's well-oiled butt cheeks. His fingers were sliding in and out the slippery sphincter. Chuck's head lolled back. Joe pushed two small flasks into his nostrils.
"Suck it baby. You'll like it," Joe grinned and Chuck inhaled deeply.
"Yeah!" Taylor changed into a pair of surf shorts. The baby oil had turned the chiseled body of the marine into a glistening sculpture of body art. While Joe was expertly jacking Chuck's dick to hardness, the crew was pulling the moaning marine to the center of the studio to a surf board. The confused jock was placed face-up on the surf board. Taylor kneeled down between his thighs. He pushed his shorts down and had Joe lube up his quickly hardening cock.
Taylor lifted Chuck's legs on his shoulders and mounted the marine in a missionary position.
"Aaaarghh," Chuck's body arched when Joe guided Taylor's cock up his shit chute. Taylor held his body in a push-up position. He sniffed the poppers Joe was offering, while Nick adjusted his camera. "Ready when you are," Taylor gasped, when the poppers hit him.
"Action!" Nick shouted and Taylor started to hump the hunky marine. The poppers made his skin sizzle. He had intended to go slow but felt a sudden urge to plow Chuck's tight butt with hard powerful thrusts. To his surprise the marine locked his thighs willingly around his waist.
Taylor met Chuck's serious gaze and suddenly the marine's arms shot up, pulling him down into a firm embrace. The marine couldn't help himself, but all of a sudden he felt drawn to the young surfer. He was attracted to his smooth face, his silky long hair and the freshness of his body. He was grateful for the intense lust Taylor had provided to him and he was eager to experience more.
"Give it to me! Fuck me hard," Chuck urged hoarsely.
"You like it, huh?" Taylor increased his thrusting. Sweat was forming on his forehead.
"Yeah, fuck that ass. Plow my tight marine hole!" Chuck hollered.
Taylor kissed the moaning marine. His tussled hair was shrouding Chuck's mohawked head. When strong heels were digging into is buttocks and urging him to buck faster, Taylor realized that he had forgotten to use a rubber.
"Shiiiiit!" he groaned when more and more of the stimulant was absorbed by his dick head. His boner was as hard as steel, pounding Chuck's pleasure zone without mercy.
"Fuck me!" Chuck screamed, reduced to a throbbing horny marine muscle cock.
Both men groaned in primal lust. Nick realized that neither Taylor nor Chuck were still able to control their bodies as their sexual instincts had taken over.
"Poppers!" he urged Joe, who grinned while pushing he flasks in turn up Taylor's and Chuck's nostrils. During the following two hours Taylor fucked Chuck in a variety of positions. They ended up Taylor screwing the Lance Corporal doggy style, while milking a huge load of hot grunt spunk from his cock. The surf board was slippery from sweat and cum.
"Cut!" Nick stopped the camera.
"That stuff his hot!" Bobby looked down on the exhausted entangled bodies. It took Nick and his crew quite some effort to break Taylor's and Chuck's embrace.
"Fuck you!" Taylor groaned," don't you ever play me like that again." He was slowly gathering his senses.
"You were great," Nick's eyes grinned.
"Hey, I could use your muscle-boy in Studio E," Bobby said, looking at Chuck's semi-erect dick. "We need a stud for a straight threesome. Our fuckin' actor had a morning romp with his girlfriend and went limp during the shoot."
"How much?" Taylor asked.
"One grand,"Bobby replied slyly.
"Two!" Taylor grinned and offered his hand
"Deal!" Bobby shook his hand gleefully.
"I don't know, how much juice is left, though," Taylor pointed at the cum-covered surf board. Chuck had made quite a mess.
"Don't you worry. I just need a fucking boner, we can fill in the cum-shots later," Bobby replied," Joe, give the boy more poppers and feed him some viagras, just in case."
"Can I shave his head?" Bobby asked."...our actor is bald."
"He is all yours," Taylor replied waving his hand generously. He put on his shorts and fetched Chuck's camo pants. After he had pulled them up they were at least two seizes too big and hang low from his narrow hips.
"You look cool in those, man," Nick said admiringly.
"Guess, I did just join the army," Taylor laughed. He gave Bobby a high five and left the studio.
"And you have got a job to do, boy," Bobby pulled the marine up on his feet.
"No! Let me go, I am a marine....I," Chuck struggled feebly.
"Yeah baby, you are a marine of course," Nick laughed, "this is why a lil twink parades you in here on a leash. Now make no fuzz, we paid Taylor well, no matter where he picked ya up." The naked jock was hustled into an adjacent room not really realizing what was going on.
"What is this?" Chuck asked confused, when Bobby pushed him on a massage table. His head rested in a ring, while he was facing the tiled floor.
"What the fuck..?" he asked again and wanted to get up, but a Velcro strap across his neck held him already down. In no time Bobby had strapped the hunky marine to the table. He brought a red enema bag hanging from a chrome-metal stand and fetched the hose.
"Need to clean `ya out boy, before you're ready to become a star, relax now," Bobby was feeding the nozzle into the still slippery ass.
"What..nooo," Chuck was writhing.
"Don't be a sissy, Taylor has stretched your hole nicely already," Bobby munched with the cigar in the corner of his mouth. He made sure the hose was reaching deep into the colon and opened the clip. The mixture of warm water and mineral oil was slowly flooding Chuck's guts.
"Nooo!! Ahhh..uhhhh..shiiittt," unimpressed by the squirming jock's helpless squeaks, Bobby fetched a bottle of shaving foam. He applied it thoroughly all over the mohawked head. Chuck didn't offer much of a resistance. His body jerked occasionally, but most of the time he held tight while he was filled up. In the meantime his mohawk disappeared.
"There `ya go," Bobby toweled the bald head gleefully. 2 quarts of the cleansing liquid had seeped into Chuck's guts and he was desperately trying to hold it. The mineral oil was working inside of him.
"Oh no, ohhh shit, ohh please no more," the marine moaned helpless.
"Almost done," with a soft plop Bobby yanked the nozzle from the sphincter hole. He removed the straps and lifted Chuck up.
"Good boy," he led the grimacing jock to the bathroom and put him on the seat. It took almost half an hour and lots of sighing and moaning until Chuck came stumbling from the bathroom. Nick and Bobby were already waiting for him. The camera man held his head while Bobby pushed the flasks up his nostrils.
"Uuuhhhrgh," Chuck groaned when the poppers hit his brain. His mouth opened wide as he gasped. Bobby force-fed him two square-shaped blue pills and closed the strong jaws until the swallowing reflex gorged the viagras down.
The dizzy hunk was led into the next studio and placed on a large bed. His wrists and ankles were cuffed to the brass frame. Light-headed he lifted his now smooth head and giggled sheepish when he saw the two buxom blonds entering the room. His dick jumped to an instant erection.
"Action!" he heard Nick's voice...
(to be continued... )