Vaccinated - A Continuation

[mmvmgo2011]

6 hours ago, Ripped said:

ooooo, this should be good.

Reminds me of another Sicilian.

Let's hope so!

Smith is an arrogant fool. If he stopped to think for two seconds, and wonder how this hunched over old woman that can barely walk managed to get into his house without leaving any trace... but, as we've already seen, he's too arrogant and obsessed.

2 hours ago, panama said:

Impressive from every point of view ! What a great story.

Thank you. Glad you're enjoying it.

[Wrestlejock646]

There aren't enough likes to give to this story. Thanks mmvmgo2011!

 

 

[mmvmgo2011]

~~FIFTY~~

Diego paced back and forth like a caged animal. He needed to know more, and he wanted to see him… and, if it came to it, say his goodbye in person. NO! he thought - he’s going to be fine. He IS.

He decided to go to the hospital. On the way, he called Brad.

“Hi Brad, any update?”

“That’s a relief. Sounds promising.”

“Oh, me too. I have to see him.”

“Okay, see you there. Between the two of us we should be able to convince them to let us see him. And if they won’t, we’ll do it anyway.”

“Thanks, be there in about 20.”

Even through all his concern and anxiety over Jake, his dick swelled at the idea that he and Brad would need to do some ‘convincing’. His aggression was off the charts, and he hadn’t yet had any outlet - he was about to head to the gym when he received the call from Brad about Jake.

***

Mina logged into her computer, plugging the phone in.

With the tools at her disposal, it was a cinch for her to determine which cloud service, and the login username. She didn’t need anything else. Her team already had a backdoor to that ‘encrypted’ cloud service, so she didn’t need to try and brute force the login details. Their backdoor incorporated the master key, enabling them to decrypt any file stored with the service. If people knew half the things they did, she thought.

She traversed the service’s directory, locating the one storing Jake’s files. Curious, she thought. There were only two files. A video file and an audio file.

Her curiosity got the better of her, her eyebrows raising as she watched the video. To each their own, she thought. They weren’t supposed to snoop into the contents of files, of course, but they weren’t supposed to hack into random citizen’s data as personal favours either, so she figured she didn’t have anything to lose. If they caught her, she was fucked either way. Might as well slake her curiosity.

She then listened to the audio. If her eyebrows raised before, they were almost off the top of her head now. Dale, what the fuck?

***

“Mr Robertson, I’m Doctor Mercier.”

“Hi Doctor, very nice to meet you.” And it was, she was stunning. Plump lips, sparkling blue eyes, blonde hair tied up in a sensible bun. And she had a slamming body, too. If you could tell even through her medical garb, then it must be smoking in something tighter and more revealing. Or, better yet, with nothing on, he thought. Her voice was mellifluous and ever so slightly accented. Not-so-little-Jake wanted to meet her too, raising his head for a better look.

“You’re extremely lucky to have survived. Frankly, we’re not really sure how. Your lung has re-inflated, but will be sensitive for a while, you might find yourself coughing up foamy blood, it’s nothing to be alarmed about in small quantities, that’s just the lung clearing the airways and healing. We’d like to give you a transfusion, to get your red blood cell count higher, are you opposed to that?”

“No, but I’d rather avoid it if possible. I just need food, I’m starving.”

“That’s your body signalling its need for protein to produce new cells. We’ll hold off on the transfusion, for now, but your levels are critically low.”

“Understood.”

“And it’s because of that we haven’t gone in to repair your artery. Surgery is extremely risky right now. If we had to, we could operate, but the clots are holding. Again, I’d rather hold off for now.”

“Agreed.” Jake would know as soon as there was any internal bleeding.

“I’ve put in an order for a meal, which should be arriving any minute. Make sure you eat every morsel. I’ll come back to review in a few hours, in the meantime, rest up. Your body is remarkable,” the way she said it, her tone and inflection, indicated she meant that in both the ‘you’re a hot fucker’ and the ‘the body has an incredible capacity for healing’ senses, “and will heal on its own given time and the right nutrition.”

“Thanks doctor. I look forward to seeing you in a few hours.” Yes, ‘seeing’, he thought.

***

Brad and Diego happened to meet up in the hospital entry. They headed up towards Jake’s room in the secure wing of the hospital.

“Diego, I need to tell you something, and it has to stay between us for now.”

“Okay.”

“Jake has regained the sperm ability.”

“What? How?” A sharp spike of arousal flowed through him.

“I don’t know. But somehow after he regained consciousness from bleeding out, he woke up with the ability restored.”

“Fuck.” Yes, he thought.

“Yeah, I don’t know if he has any memories of what he did, what he became. I can’t tell that. But it’s possible he’s back on a sadistic power trip and, if so, you and I would both make perfect targets from his point of view. We need to be careful.”

“That sounds…” Diego had no memory of his previous stint as one of Jake’s minions. But in his current state, it sounded fucking hot. He imagined Jake taking him over, dominating him, forcing him to be his sex slave. “…terrible.”

“Diego. This is serious. I know you don’t remember what Jake had become, and I know you’re currently amped up, ultra-horny and you have the hots for him, but - trust me - you do NOT want to be one of his victim’s again.”

Diego heard the words, and the logical, intellectual part of his brain agreed. But the part that was currently dominant, the part swelling his dick and leaking pre from its tip, wanted it. Wanted it so bad.

***

A prison guard was standing outside Jake’s door.

“No visitors!”

“Step aside,” said Brad, invading his personal space. His barrel chest touching the guard’s. Brad inhaled, expanding his chest, forcing Galloway to take a step back.

“I said, no visitors,” he said as he removed his baton.

Brad, unconcerned, grabbed him by the arms, his huge mitts wrapping around Galloway’s biceps and triceps, and picked him up, setting him down to the side and out of the way. Galloway was agape - how had he done that? And make it look effortless? He was shaken out of his reverie and used the baton to smash the hulking visitor across the back. If Galloway was stronger, he could’ve broken the baton across Brad’s back.

Brad growled, and Galloway backed off, shaken. Who WERE these super men impervious to batons and tasers?

Diego and Brad entered Jake’s room.

[mmvmgo2011]

~~FIFTY-ONE~~

Mark was dropped off at the entrance. The place was massive, he thought. He knew it was, but it was one thing to see photos and read descriptions, another to see it in person.

He walked in and surveyed the entry foyer. The first thing he noticed was the bloke behind the reception desk. And HE did not make a good impression on Mark. HE was tall, nearly as tall as Mark, and HE was handsome - square-jawed, with amazing blue eyes. But HE was a stick. As a gay guy, Mark was all for equality and non-discrimination — fuck knows his kind have struggled, and continue to struggle. But, come on. What sort of gym employs a tall, lanky stick - albeit a hot stick - to work behind the front desk?

***

HE was working front desk reception, covering for Charlotte who requested the day off. Rather than try and organise one of their other front desk staff, HE decided to work it himself. It was a good way for HIM to get to know the members. Unlike Brad and Jake, HE hardly knew any of them.

HE was distracted, worried about Jake. Worried for him, and worried because of him. How had he regained the ability? They barely stopped him last time. If he went on another rampage…

HE looked up as someone walked through the entrance. HE didn’t recognise him as a member, but he looked very familiar to HIM. Then, it clicked. Mark Hudson, an up and comer, rumoured to be working towards his pro card.

“Mr Hudson! Welcome to BJ’s. I’m one of the owners, nice to meet you.” HE held out HIS hand.

An OWNER? What the fuck? thought Mark. Who owns a gym and doesn’t work out? What the fuck IS this place? So far, he was not impressed. To be fair, a tick in their favour was that he was recognised - they obviously kept their ear to the ground in bodybuilding circles.

“Uh… thanks, YOU too. YOU own this place?” He asked, as he shook the outstretched hand. The emphasis was not lost on HIM.

“Co-own. I just bought in a few weeks ago. The owners wanted to expand and I bought in as a way to help fund that expansion.” Mostly true, HE thought. “Would you like a tour?”

“Sure.”

***

Mark’s impression of BJ’s improved markedly as the tour continued. Top-notch, new-looking, ample equipment. Concierge service, with top coaches, physiotherapists, sports physiologists, doctors, the works. It was clear that it was set up to cater to elite-level athletes, in all but one aspect.

“This all looks amazing. But one thing I’ve noticed - your free weights don’t seem to go very high. 50kg/~110lbs dumbbells are the heaviest you have? How do your bigger guys cope?”

HE laughed. “This is the light side of the gym. We’ll head over to the heavy side, which is twice the size of the light side. Follow ME, please.”

Marks eyes widened as he surveyed the seemingly endless array of weights and machines as far as the eye could see.

“Hopefully this is more your speed?” HE asked as they walked through the space. ”You should find everything you need here, equipment to work out every conceivable muscle. And, if there is ever anything you think is missing from the gym, just let us know.”

Mark noticed an unusual looking barbell. Unlike the others it and the plates on either side were matt black. “500kgs?” Mark asked, incredulous.

“Yes, custom barbell and weight plates made from a custom tungsten alloy. The bar and plates each weigh 500kg/~1,100lbs. You’ll also find many of the cable machines customised with a second stack of the matt black weights, again each at 500kgs.”

“And you have members that need that kind of weight?”

“So far, just the one. But we’re working on that. But all of this, even the custom weights, is something you could find at any other gym. You won’t, but you could. We have two factors that truly set us apart from our competition, something that they cannot emulate, and you really won’t find elsewhere. The first is our attitude to steroids and anabolic agents. We’re pretty open about them here, and our concierge service can even arrange to supply you with whatever you need. We regularly test samples to ensure we only supply the finest quality, legitimate product.”

“Incredible,” said Mark.

“Yet even this you could conceivably find at another gym, somewhere. But our coaching service is truly unique, and guarantees superior results - as good as your genetics can possibly achieve - drug free.” HE looked at Mark’s face, “I know, it sounds too good to be true. Like a scam. We’re not in the business of selling scams, I assure you.”

***

Jake’s face lit up in a huge smile as he saw Brad and Diego. Brad was wary, Diego mooned. He was fucking gorgeous, and when he smiled, Diego’s whole world seemed to light up, to brighten.

“Brad! Diego! Come in, please!”

Jake looked… good. Compared to the last time they saw him in the infirmary, he looked incredible. There wasn’t a trace of that attack and, apart from a pallor and odd bluish hue to his skin, he looked well. The pallor and blue tint were both caused by his lack of red blood cells - he was suffering from hypoxia, a systemic lack of oxygen. His blood just didn’t have enough red blood cells to transport oxygen from his lungs around his body. It was potentially deadly, and certainly dangerous for anything but the very short term. If things did not improve, then he would need a transfusion to avoid permanent damage to his organs.

Diego tried to push Brad aside. He should’ve known better. He stepped around the behemoth and stepped up to the bed, bending in for a kiss. Jake reciprocated at first. Diego was looking mighty fine, he thought. The changes HE had made were working remarkably quickly. It must be because his body was already primed for those changes when I amped them all up, he thought.

As the kiss continued, the combination of his dick swelling with arousal and his reduced lung capacity had him feeling light headed. He pushed Diego away. At least, he tried to. He was still too weak to actually push him away. Diego broke off the kiss reluctantly, adjusting his swelling bulge, his tight jeans leaving little room for his growing cock.

“Jake! I–” his voice broke, “I’m so glad you’re okay. If anything had happened to you–”

“Thanks Diego. It’s good to see you. You too, Brad, bring it in, big guy.”

Brad hugged his friend. He didn’t know what he would do without him. Best not to think about that.

“How are you feeling?” Brad asked.

“Good. Tired, weak. But, considering…”

“Glad to have your ability back?”

[mmvmgo2011]

~~FIFTY-TWO~~

Smith prepared for bed. After ridding himself of the old woman - he wondered who she was? He didn’t think she was related to Robertson - there seemed to be no familial resemblance, and he didn’t look like he had any Italian heritage - he’d ordered some delivery for dinner as he considered his next steps.

It all depended on Mina. If she came through - she always did - then it was business as usual. But in the meantime, he needed to lay low, to let Robertson think he had the upper hand.

Smith grabbed some fresh underwear and a towel and headed for the bathroom. He turned on the shower and stripped while he waited for the water to heat up. He looked at himself in the mirror. Not too shabby, he thought to himself. He was handsome enough - being good looking always helped when trying to sway a jury. As much as trials were about the facts and the law, when it came down to it, they were a popularity contest. Whoever could win over the jury would win the day. The facts and the law be damned. So much for truth, liberty and justice for all.

One aspect of his life he was not happy with was his body. He was not fat, he tried to watch what he ate, but he did not work out, did next to no exercise. He often worked late nights preparing for cases, which didn’t leave a lot of time for exercise.

He wouldn’t admit it to himself, but he was jealous of Robertson. He had a phenomenal body. Massive, vascular, powerful. He exuded sex appeal. Dale’s cock was swelling just thinking about him - yet it wasn’t *him* that was turning him on, it was his body. He despised Robertson, which made his arousal all the more confusing.

As he was getting older - now in his late 30s - it was harder to maintain a trim figure, his body constantly trying to grow a paunch.

He stepped into the shower, grabbing his swelling cock and slowly stroking, imagining himself with a body like Robertson’s. Muscle piled atop muscle, massive veins feeding them with blood, pumping up as he’d flex. He groaned as his dick hardened, and a glob of pre leaked from the tip, washed away by the water.

He imagined himself standing before a jury with that rig, wearing a skin-tight shirt and pants that were painted on. As he’d move, his flexing muscles would stretch the fabric, stress the seams, huge pecs pressing outward, biceps balling up and threatening to tear the shirt, his arse sitting up and out, bulging like his package. Jurors would swoon and fawn over him, overcome by the power of his body, his muscles. When arguing before the judge, he'd pop a pec or subtly flex his bicep at the judge, encouraging a decision in his favour.

He stroked faster now, his heart rate and breathing increasing as he neared the precipice. He’d have his pick of the hottest fucks whenever he wanted. He groaned as he came, further cementing the link between his arousal and muscle, his arousal and Robertson. The spray of hot, steamy water washed away his hot jizz, his tension draining away just like his hot cum.

***

As Smith showered, he failed to notice the balaclava-clad man enter his home. He was not there to kill him, not yet, anyway. No, he was there to leave a message. To make Smith understand that he had no clue who he was dealing with.

***

Miguel was back in his cell, alone.

His cock was throbbing, achingly hard. He could feel his heartbeat through his dick, the veins rising along the shaft distending ever so slightly with each pump of his heart.

His whole body pulsated and tingled with arousal. It felt like his whole body was an erect cock, every muscle exquisitely sensitive, the merest touch firing off torrents of pleasure running through his body and to his cock, his balls.

He stripped and posed, each flex of his muscles setting off waves of pleasure, causing his cock to twitch and flex, pre-ejaculate leaking from the tip. The harder he flexed, the better it felt, the more erotic. He groaned as he flexed, partly through effort, partly in arousal. He’d already ejaculated five times, each time his orgasm crested higher, lasted longer, his balls and prostate churning overtime to produce loads, each larger than the last.

Each muscle felt so pumped, so hard, so dense, he was worried he’d split the skin. The feeling was unreal. His veins swelled with each flex, rising up from his skin in a freaky display of strength and power.

As he crunched down into a most muscular, his cock began pumping out his sixth load, bouncing with each pump, sending cum arcing across the cell, splattering against the wall. Nnnnggghhh, yeah. As he continued orgasming, his entire body throbbed, the pump in each muscle unreal.

Fuck, Jake, he thought. Everything he said was true. He had not yet tested his strength, but he had no doubt he could smash personal bests. He felt like he could smash the world. His cock swelled again as he imagined his Hermano brothers all jacked up like he was. NNnggggghhhh, a massive glob of pre travelled up his shaft. He let it collect on his fingers and brought them to his mouth, savouring his taste.

Speaking of smashing, even six times was not enough to satisfy his arousal, his need to smash.

“Guard!”

***

“What the fuck happened?!” Johnny was furious. “You were supposed to take him out!”

“Johnny, I swear, I shanked him five times, right up to the hilt. I even felt it pierce his lung.” Stevo had never seen Johnny so angry.

“Well, either he’s fucking Superman, or you fucked up. Get the fuck out of my sight.”

Stevo, wisely, left Johnny to stew. He could’ve asked Johnny the same question - what the fuck was he doing on the bench after the pause? Why did he cum? He should’ve just smashed it out and owned him.

Stevo sensed an opening. Johnny’s standing was now under threat. Just the hint of a challenge was enough to threaten his position as leader, the fact that he didn’t decisively own the cunt had weakened his position markedly. The time for Stevo to step up and take the reins may be here sooner than later. His bulge tented at the thought.

[mmvmgo2011]

On 6/2/2023 at 11:08 AM, Wrestlejock646 said:

There aren't enough likes to give to this story. Thanks mmvmgo2011!

 

 

Thank you, you're too kind. You're welcome. Glad you're enjoying. Hopefully plenty more to cu– ah, come.

[mmvmgo2011]

~~FIFTY-THREE~~

“This place is incredible.”

“Thanks,” HE said. “But I can’t take any credit, it’s all my two co-owners.”

“So, I have to ask… YOU own a gym, but YOU don’t work out?”

HE blushed, “I’ve just recently started working out, and I sort of fell into ownership. It’s a long story.”

“I’m intrigued. Maybe YOU can tell me over dinner?”

Oh, you smooth fucker, HE thought. Well, HE would’ve thought, if HE wasn’t completely embarrassed and out of his element. HE might’ve gotten HIS rocks off a few times, but that didn’t mean HE was suddenly a Casanova.

“ME? Uh, sure, okay.” HE blushed again. It was endearing. Enhancing HIS boyish charm.

“Pick me up at 8, I’m staying at the Grand, Room 4218.”

“No problem. What do you feel like for dinner? I don’t want to ruin your diet. You look amazing, by the way.”

“Thanks. Anywhere is good, I’m in a bulking phase right now, so not too concerned. I’m happy with my physique overall, the shape and conditioning, I just need to be bigger. Same proportions, just more mass.”

“Well, you’ve definitely come to the right place, even if I do say so MYSELF. Let ME introduce you to one of our first coaching clients, Mike.”

***

Mike was in one of the squat racks, he had the bar loaded up, seven plates a side, and was about to drop, starting his second set.

He was shirtless, and wore a skimpy pair of running shorts, split up the side to give his thighs the space they needed to flex and pump without restriction. His growing balls were securely tucked into a jockstrap, though his cock would often escape as it got hard. He preferred squatting and deadlifting barefoot.

His conditioning was unreal. It looked like he had no skin, and not a single gram of fat on his body. His proportions were such that he looked wider than his already wide frame. A tight, tiny waist broadened out to outrageous shoulders, topped with massive traps and a pillar of neck, forming a yoke that looked like it could support the earth. He looked imposing, intimidating. Exactly the look he was aiming for.

HE and Mark stood quietly to the side waiting for Mike to finish his set, but Mike noticed them in the mirror and stepped out from under the bar. Was that? It was! Mark Hudson! He’d been a fan ever since the kid first hit the scene.

“Mike, I’d like to introduce you to–”

“Mark! No need for introductions. I’m a big fan. I follow you on all the socials. Great to meet you! You look even better in person, if you don’t mind me saying.” He held out his hand to shake, his forearms writhing with pumped vascularity.

Mark accepted the shake, watching Mike’s entire body ripple and flex as they shook. It was mesmerising.

“Thanks, you’re too kind. You’re looking phenomenal yourself. Which comp are you preparing for? I wasn’t aware of any coming up so soon.”

“Oh, I don’t compete. I’m just a regular Joe looking to keep fit and strong.”

Mark’s mouth gaped. He didn’t compete? And he looked like THAT?! A ‘regular Joe’ squatting seven plates a side?!

HE and Mike noticed his reaction and both smiled, “I work as a bouncer, so it helps to keep the riff-raff in line if you look like you can tear them in two,” Mike said, as if that somehow explained his phenomenal rig. “Helps, too, if you actually can rip them apart,” he laughed. As he laughed, muscles across his entire body flexed and undulated, his abs, obliques and serratus coming into stark relief. Fuck, thought Mark.

“Wow. I mean, I don’t know what to say - there are professional bodybuilders that don’t look that good competing on stage.”

“Yeah?” Mike was proud, and enjoyed the complements. He worked hard in the gym. Jake’s jizz helped too, of course. Jake’s Jizz™ - maybe they should also bottle it and sell it that way.

“Fucking oath, mate. Seriously, you could step onto almost any stage and place, if not blow away the competition. Who’s your coach?”

“Coach? Uh, Jake, I guess.”

“Jake’s one of the other co-owners, a co-founder,” HE said.

He had to meet this Jake, he thought. If he could achieve these sorts of results with an ‘average Joe’… FUCK.

“I bet the cutting is brutal, though? Hours of cardio?”

“Cutting? Oh, you mean dieting? Pfft, nah, I just eat pretty much what I want, when I want. The food bill is brutal though. And I’m pretty hopeless in keeping up with any cardio. Don’t really enjoy it. Maybe a short jog every now and then, my focus is pretty much on the weights.”

Okay, now they were having him on, he thought. Nobody has a rig like that without a SERIOUS cutting diet and brutal cardio regime.

“Come on, we’ll leave Mike to finish his workout, and I’ll show you some of his before pics and we can discuss options for membership and, if you’re interested, coaching.” ‘If’ HE thought - the guy was practically salivating - of course he was interested. “Thanks Mike.”

“No problem. Nice to meet you Mark. Look forward to seeing you around the gym.”

***

“Get fucked!”

HE laughed, “I told you. We don’t sell scams here. It’s one hundred percent legitimate.”

“That can’t be the same Mike we just saw - and only a couple of weeks ago?”

“You’ve seen him with your own eyes - you can get the photos checked for authenticity if you want.”

“So, what’s the catch? There’s gotta be a catch, right?”

“Well… depends on your point of view. It’s expensive.”

“I figured that.” No real surprise there, everything at elite-level was expensive. It’s why most elite athletes needed sponsorship - somebody to pay for all the coaching, medicos, the food and, in his sport, the drugs.

“And, then there’s the delivery mechanism.”

“Go on.”

“Sex. In order to optimise your hormonal profiles, maximise anabolism and minimise catabolism, I will need to have sex with you. On a semi-regular basis, too, depending upon what tweaks you want.”

Mark burst out laughing, a big, hearty, belly laugh. Thankfully, HE didn’t put two and two together, otherwise HE may have taken offence at the idea that having sex with HIM was so funny.

“S- ex?” He could barely get the word out he was laughing so hard. Now he knew he was being pranked.

“Yes. It’s my sperm that gives me the ability to make changes. It’s all here in the documentation.” HE handed over a welcome pack that they had developed. It explained the process, the limitations, everything a prospective client would need to know.

“Why don’t you take it all away and read through it carefully, and if you have any questions, I can answer them for you tonight? Come on, I’ll get you your trial entry fob.”

[mmvmgo2011]

~~FIFTY-FOUR~~

Smith towelled off and put on the fresh underwear. He usually slept in only his underwear, he didn’t know how people could sleep in pyjamas. He brushed his teeth and headed to his bedroom.

Picking up his phone, he contemplated texting Mina. She looked particularly good, and she could certainly fuck. He wondered if she was single, though he wouldn’t really mind if she wasn’t. Despite the encouragement of his dick, he thought better of it. He couldn’t afford to piss her off. If she didn’t delete that file… his cock quickly deflated at the thought.

He pulled back the covers and noticed a small, flat food container. What the fuck? he thought. He opened it, and the smell was intoxicating. Tiramisu. And a particularly good one, from the smell. Rum-based, an interesting twist. That old bag was off her rocker, he thought.

He’d already brushed his teeth, so he shouldn’t eat it, but he couldn’t resist… it looked and smelt so good. He went to the kitchen to grab a spoon, never noticing the balaclava-clad man watching from his bedroom window.

After one spoonful, he greedily scoffed the entire thing - it was fucking delicious. If the stupid old bag thought it would intimidate him, or concern him, she was wrong.

***

HE knocked on the door, Room 4128. There was no answer. HE frowned, knocking louder. Still, nothing. Did the fucker stand HIM up? Maybe he was just running late, HE decided to wait for him down in the foyer for a while.

***

20:20, and still nothing. Did the fucker stand him up? Surely not. He’d never been stood up in his life. Maybe HE was just running late? They should have swapped numbers, he thought, and cursed himself for not thinking of it. He was too busy imagining himself with masses of extra muscle, unreal conditioning, all with next to no cutting.

***

HE sat and waited for thirty minutes. Nothing. On the small chance that there was a misunderstanding, or he was delayed or some other reason, HE thought HE would leave a message for him at reception. Why didn’t we swap numbers? HE thought. Because I was too busy checking him out and getting flustered when he asked ME out, that's why.

HE approached reception. “Hi, I was wondering if I could leave a message for Mr Hudson, Room 4128, please.”

“I’m sorry, sir, that room is currently occupied by someone else.”

That fucker, HE thought. Why would he bother asking ME out and then giving ME bullshit information?

“Oh.”

“However, we do have a Mr Hudson staying with us at the moment, in a different room. Unfortunately, for our guests’ safety and privacy I can’t give you his room number, but I’m happy to pass on your message.”

Was that the answer? Was HE that flustered, that distracted that HE misremembered the room number?

“Thank you, please. Let him know that I am waiting down in the lobby for the next thirty minutes, otherwise I will see him at BJ’s the next time he is in. And apologise for the mix up.”

“HE is waiting down in the lobby until 21:15, otherwise HE will see you at BJ’s the next time you are in. Apologies for the mix up.”

“Perfect. Thank you.” HE sat and waited, counting down the seconds until Mark walked in.

***

“Honestly? It feels fucking FANTASTIC! I can’t really describe what it felt like to be without it. It was like I’d lost a limb. Orgasms were still great, ejaculating still felt amazing, but there was something missing… something incomplete about them.”

Great, thought Brad, sarcastically. “And what about your memories? Have they returned?”

“No.” Jake lied. “The last thing I really remember was fucking Mike in the posing room.” Now was not the time to go over it with him, and it was easier to lie.

The door opened, and Galloway entered with two armed police officers. As it happens, Brad and Jake knew them well.

“Mario, Rob, how are you both?” asked Brad. Galloway gaped. Not only were they super men impervious to his weapons, they were friendly with the cops too?

“Brad, you really shouldn’t be in here…” Mario began.

As Brad was distracted talking to the cops, Jake took the opportunity to signal Diego, who leaned in.

Jake whispered in his ear, a soft, deep, husky tone, “You’re MINE Rodriguez.” He growled softly.

Diego groaned and grabbed his throbbing bulge through his jeans.

“You better fucking grow and gather strength because the next time I see you, I’m going skull fuck your brains out, and split open that fucking gorgeous arse of yours.”

Diego growled, a deep gravelly sound, as his bulge twitched and writhed with his orgasm, a large wet spot forming on his jeans.

“And you will beg me, beg your alpha, your master, for more.”

Jake’s cock was swelling along with his arousal, the light-headedness adding to his arousal, recalling memories of Ralph and the breath play.

***

“Guys, listen, I know we’re not supposed to be in here, but it’s important. Please, just a few more minutes.”

“Sorry, Brad, if it were up to us, we’d let you spend the day - but Galloway here has made a formal complaint.”

Galloway blanched and visibly shrunk back as Brad looked at him. “Then Galloway better withdraw that complaint. He made a mistake, right Galloway?” Though Brad was just a big, soft teddy bear at heart, he looked like he’d rip your head off and shit down your throat, which came in handy from time to time. And, if it came down to it, he would - and could - rip your head off if need be.

Galloway swallowed and nodded furiously. “Yes, yes. As long as they leave now, we’ll all forget this ever happened.” Fuck knows Galloway wished he could forget about these super men walking among them.

Brad turned to Diego and swore under his breath. “Come on, Diego, we have to go. Rest up, Jake and get better. We’ll come visit you again as soon as we’re allowed to.” He grabbed Diego’s arm and pulled him away, noticing his cum-soaked jeans. Fuck.

[Ro20316]

LMAO HE mixed up the room number it was 4218 not 4128 . I wonder what was Mark thinking when He didnt show up.

Jake lied to Brad about remembering and Brad believed him but he should be cautios and even more so when he saw what happened toDiego when Jake whispered in his ear.

Diego is a willing sub when it comes to Jake and Jake remembers that. Things will be pretty interesting between them. 

And what is Nonna up to??????

[mmvmgo2011]

8 hours ago, Ro20316 said:

LMAO HE mixed up the room number it was 4218 not 4128 . I wonder what was Mark thinking when He didnt show up.

Jake lied to Brad about remembering and Brad believed him but he should be cautios and even more so when he saw what happened toDiego when Jake whispered in his ear.

Diego is a willing sub when it comes to Jake and Jake remembers that. Things will be pretty interesting between them. 

And what is Nonna up to??????

Diego has been enamoured with Jake, and submissive to him, ever since the orgy in the cells and being dominated with the batons. But, if you recall, he refused to be his slave, so we'll have to see how that pans out, and whether Diego's crush will overcome that.

Nonna? Haha... she's always up to something.