u/ObviousThrowAway0435

Disclaimer: All people involved are over 18 and this is a work of fiction.

People we've met:

• Cody (me) 19 years, 5'6, 130 pounds with a lean swimmer's build, white with freckles, short-black-curly hair, and green eyes.
• David (boss at local swimming pool who just force-fucked me multiple times). Somewhere near 50 years, around 6'0, over 240 pounds with a weathered dad bod, slightly tan complexion, thick hair on his arms and legs, some greying in his otherwise black, short hair with a receding hairline.
• Kitt (random jock-dad that asked me out before he left the pool, turns out he's good friends with David). Early 40s, silver haired, jock.

- After Kitt had played with my feet and then tag-teamed my feet and ass with David. David has left to spend time with his family. (Part 3 here) -

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Sweat smeared across a silver chest glistened in the late morning sun, which snuck rays of warmth through the mostly closed blinds. Kitt stood there drinking his water, eyeing me up and down as I lay there naked and covered in my own sweat and 3 different people's semen, one of them being my own.

We sat in silence as the distant noises of a gate and then a car door opening and closing transitioned into an engine purr until David drove off to his wife to pretend all was well with a water leak, when in reality, he had kidnapped one his employees and was taking all his frustration out on him. I let myself go and relax into the thin mattress on the pull-out-bed. The odor of chlorine from the closed pool seeped in, mixing with the smell of cement, old paint, and all our collective odors and juices. It somehow felt nostalgic, despite all of this being very new and mostly nightmarish.

Just as my eyes were about to close, Kitt broke through the uneasy ambiance, "You look like you could use a shower." My eyes opened and peered down my body and across the room towards him, keeping myself flat on the bed. He continued while tossing a water bottle into the trash in the corner, "I won't cuff, tie, or bind you, if you play nice. Come 'on. Get up." It was refreshing to be commanded without a constant threat of physical harm, and... he wasn't wrong. I totally could use a shower. Last time I had one, David had spanked, choked, and beaten me during and right afterwards, so I never really felt clean, even if all the grime and dirt had gone.

I nodded and stood up. Kitt picked up a neon green sports bag and tossed it over his shoulder, and in the nude, together we walked into the hallway, down the stairs and into the locker room. I had only every been in this building in uniform, yet somehow this now felt like an apartment. Our feet pattered and gently smacked the tile, vinyl and cement as we made our way to the locker rooms. Kitt grabbed towels smoothly as he walked by the shelves that held them, and draped the two of them on hooks on a wall outside the bay showers. He flicked several faucets on, allowing them to heat up and fill the bay with steam. As it did, he walked to a bench and dropped the bag. A quick and high-pitched ZIIIEEEP shot through the vast room as he opened it and pulled out some toiletries. 3-in-1 shampoo/body wash combo was the first item, of course. But then he also pulled out a multi-bladed razor and shaving gel. He brought it all over to me and pulled me along into the shower bay, placing his belongings gently onto the floor.

My situation almost instantly faded from the front to the back of my mind, as the hot water hit my broken and bruised body. I felt the sticky cum drift away from my legs, feet, stomach, and every crevice wherein it had slid and slithered. I felt my tender skin caressed by the heat and pressure. I felt my throat and nose fill with the steam. It's amazing what a hot shower can do. I all but forgot where I was until I felt the thick and muscular hands wrap around my smaller chest, and rock-like quads and hips pressed against my backside.

"Doesn't that feel better?" Kitt was gently speaking in my ear as he rubbed me up and down. His hands lingered on my bubble butt-cheeks before stepping away and leaning down to pick up his combo body wash. Gosh, why couldn't this guy just be... like this. Why did he have to be in some sexual devil's deal with David. Kitt looked like what most boys like me dreamed of: A firm chest and stomach, but not a dehydrated Marvel star. Short and cropped grey hair, still clinging to the original black pepper in there sprinkled about. His muscles didn't bulge, but his veins did, and there was more than enough mass in his arms, shoulders and legs, to highlight his physical prowess.

He probably coached some local sports league and definitely played whatever sport he coached. Probably tennis, basketball, or baseball. I caught myself fantasizing him teaching me to play when I first met him. Turns out, he did have a fantasy in mind for me, just not one I had imagined. My drift between worry and arousal shifted to the latter as Kitt lathered suds in his hands and onto my body. At first I thought this was all foreplay, but eventually Kitt started really, really scrubbing me up and down. His forearm veins pulsed as he gripped, rubbed, and scrubbed everywhere. Eventually he dropped to his knees to get my legs, and even lifted one foot up at a time to soap and wash me there as well. Even when he went in-between my toes, it did not tickle like I expected it to. I had to place a hand on his shoulder and head, to maintain my balance as he continued tossing my body parts about to leave no flesh unclean.

When he turned his attention to my genitals, I expected his energy to change. But nope. He was gentler here, but scrubbed and cleaned me down there as well, cupping my balls and ass, not to fondle them, but to properly massage and clean them. Eventually he did slip a finger gently inside me, but after a few quick probes he pulled out and stood up, turning his attention to my face and hair. Even if he wasn't trying to warm me up for round... whatever number we were on, the effect was still the same. I was still popping a full-on boner as he now massaged the soap into my scalp.

I caught myself moaning for a brief second, and he let out a brief chuckle in response. This man knew his way around the body, and I was all for it.

Without missing a beat, once he was done, he spun me around and made sure every speck of soap washed away down the drain as the water powered down my soft, peach, and freshly cleaned skin. "Now you smell like you should." I let out playful and acknowledging scoff and responded, "Well that really hit the spot. Want me to do you next?" Kitt shook his head, "I got myself plenty while I was doing you." He spun me slightly out of range of the faucet and went under water himself, washing away what little soap was left to notice on himself. The steam filling the bay prevented me from feeling too cold, at the edge of the spray of the nearest shower head.

Kitt bent down once more, but now picked up the shaving gel and razor, walked over to me and started placing. smearing, then lathering the gel into a fluffy and puffy cloud on my face. The thick and white cream sizzled as he placed it all along my lower face and a little around the eye brows. I had very little facial hair, but if I didn't touch it for a couple of weeks, it would look like a light "five o'clock shadow."

He lifted the 5-blade razor to my cheeks and my head cocked back as my hands slightly raised to guard myself from whatever this was. Kitt slightly lowered the razor and shook his head with a partially annoyed smile. "If you can't tell, I've done this several thousand times. I know what I am doing." My eyes darted around 'til they focused on Kitt as I replied, "Yeah, and I have never had another man shave me before. So, sorry if I don't trust a guy with sharp blades at my neck."

"I'm not David," Kitt said cold and matter-of-factly as his shoulders dropped stiff. He continued, "I like to take care of my toys before I play with them. Simple as that. I've taken care of you this far, I will continue, whether you wish it or not. So... easy way?" Reluctantly, with a second-guessed raise, I eventually dropped my guard and lifted up my chin to give him a better angle. The cream was more wiped away than it was cut or scraped, as there was little to be shaved off. But I felt the pull of what little hair there was as it was cut away. Kitt was focused. Attentive. With just a hint of tenderness.

With my face fresh and even smoother, I watched as he did a final spot check, before nodding approval and then grabbing my left arm at the wrist and raising it up high, exposing my armpit as he lathered it with cream as well. It was so abrupt it kept me off guard. "Surprising, for a lifeguard with a background in swimming, I would expect you to ritually shave yourself."

I wasn't sure if he was insulting or being curious, but I responded coyly with, "Well I haven't raced since high school. And I maybe jump in to save someone once a week as a life guard, and its never strenuous. Except one time there was an obese lady that fell in when chasing her brat." I held back a giggle as he lathered the very ticklish area of my armpits. I never shaved my armpits, even back in high school. But we would all shave our legs, arms, and facial hair. So this was... new.

Kitt lectured, "An athlete that's not doing everything they can to win, doesn't want to win at all." I playfully retorted, "How absolutist of you." The razor scraped, cut, and pulled away at the small, black bush of hair under my arm. Kitt eyed it after the final swipe of the razor, rinsed it, and repeated with the other arm. He continued, "Maybe you are comfortable with losing. Maybe, you like to lose." I distorted my chin and eyebrows in confusion and voiced, "Who likes to lose?" Kitt finished with right armpit and pushed my hand back down to my side.

He ran his hand all across my chest nodded with a tight-lipped approving grunt, and then traced down to my stomach with my faint happy trail made way to my short and groomed pubes. He dropped to his knees and started to lather them up and shave them as well, slowly bring the razor below my belly button and down to the pubes. I tensed up.

Finally answering my question, Kitt said, "Someone who likes it when other people have power over them. Especially when they flaunt it." As he spoke he was now stretching my ball-sack and gently shaving away at what little pubes I had missed or allowed down there. "And I think you like it, Cody." He turned me around and spread my legs, caressing my cheeks as he lathered them up and shaved them as well. "I think you like it a lot."

Gently, he slipped a finger in my hole as he shaved what little hair was back there on the cheeks. "And I think you are scared to admit just how much you like it." He pulled the finger out, and I felt a small shiver crawl up my spine and down my arms. He spread my cheeks and shaved so close to the hole, I could feel the metal touch my starfish ever so lightly.

Once done he moved to a single knee with the other propped up, and had me place my foot on his thigh. And from this Captain Morgan stance, he shaved each leg. I couldn't take my eyes off him as he finished preparing my body. He was methodical, precise, and focused. He knew exactly what he was going to do before he did it.

Kitt stood up and admired his handy work. I stepped back into the shower and let the heated water wash over me, before stepping back out into the steam away from the water. Kitt nodded and spoke, "And now you look like you should."

"You didn't like me before?" I asked Kitt slyly. "You looked fine before," he said, "but now you look like you care. Now you show discipline. And every man needs discipline in his life." He shut off the water and led me to the wall where our towels hung on hooks. We dried ourselves off and I put the towel back on the hook. Kitt stopped after he was dry, but then gave me one more pass-through with his own towel, making sure I was completely dry. I felt goosebumps all over as the chiller air hit my drying skin.

He then wrapped the towel around me and started to walk towards the door, "Wait right there. I need to grab something." I stood there by one of the benches in the locker room, staring at the dark blue, metallic lockers lining the walls of the room. I looked back at the shower bay as steam dissipates into the air, escaping through vents and even a small quarter-window.

Why wasn't I running?

David kicked my ass when I tried, but he was gone. And Kitt left me alone. There's a window there, an emergency exit down at the back of the locker room, and Kitt either walked outside or upstairs, so I had plenty of time to run. So why was I still fucking frozen. I spaced out into the distance of the room for who knows how long, until I heard the patter of Kitt's bare feet around the corner and eventually he strolled into the locker room. He was shouldering a large duffle bag, one from the closet in David's office.

He also had a step ladder with him, and brought it into the shower bay and placed it in the very center. He looked up at the ceiling and went back to the duffle bag. I stood there watching, slightly puzzled but slightly curious about his actions. The ZIIIUUUUP of this bag was slower and thicker. And from it, he pulled some leather cuffs with a metallic loop between them. He slapped them in his hand and motioned for me to come to him.

I obeyed and then he pulled each of my hands out and buckled them in the thick leather straps at the wrists. It was tight, but there was some soft lining on the insides, maybe fur or cloth, that made it tolerable. My hands were now bound in front of me at the wrist. "Well at least you aren't drowning me like David did and playing out a rescue fantasy with my life." I eyed the leather cuffs in a coy yet approving way. He pulled out a long and thinner but pure leather strap with a hook on each end, ones that resembled carabiners. He pulled me gently but directly by the cuffs over to the the step ladder and stopped me at the side of it and he in front of it.

He looked over at me popped his eyebrows high and his eyes wide, then looked up at a large hook screwed into the ceiling. Promptly he took his stride up the steps and tossed the long leather strap over the hook, and pulled down the other side of the strap. He stayed on the stepladder and reached down for my hands.

Reluctantly I gave him my bound hands and he lifted them to meet the straps. He hooked each carabiner into the loop of the cuffs and then started adjusting the length of the strap. As he adjusted it pulled my arms up towards the ceiling. At first, it was too much, and I had to stand on my tip-toes. I let out a, "uhhhh..." and Kitt took notice and gave some more slack. Eventually it was to where I could stand upright, but my hands would need to be at my face's height and could not drop any further. It allowed me to bend my arms at the elbows 90 degrees.

I had done some BDSM stuff with a few guys in the past, but it was mostly just tying to a bed and then fucking, and they rarely lasted more than a few minutes. So I wasn't worried about standing for a few minutes if that's what Kitt wanted.

Finally, Kitt spoke up and said, "Well, unlike David pretending to save a drowning twink in the pool, this isn't a fantasy of mine. This is for you."

I let out a little laugh and said, "Okay sure. Well this ain't my scene."

"No Cody, you misunderstand. This is to help teach you. To train you. This is to give you discipline."

"Discipline?" I decried. "You're joking, right."

"No. I am not. Just like you aren't or weren't disciplined with your body enough as an athlete, you aren't disciplined enough to take my cock."

"Oh really?" I said. "I've taken dicks just as big as yours before."

"Oh have you?" Kitt continued, "I imagine it probably takes you what, 5, 10, maybe 15 minutes of fingering and rimming before hand. Maybe some training butt-plugs before that. And that's all after you clean out as well."

I stood there silently as he continued, feeling like my sexual history was being psychoanalyzed by a literal psycho. Whatever charm we had was all but faded.

Kitt went further, "That's how it is with most guys. Because most guys lack discipline. And that's okay, for an okay sex life with okay guys. But I'm not an okay guy. I'm the fucking best. And I fuck like the best. And I only fuck the best. You aren't the best, Cody. But I'll make you the best when I'm done."

"Come again now?" His narcissism was bleeding out so much the floor was wet again. I asked again but this time I no longer hid the sarcasm, "How, oh master, can I learn this skill from you?"

"Simple," Kitt said. He went over to the bag and pulled out his golf shorts, unfastening and pulling out the belt within them. As he walked back over to me, belt in one hand, and starting to rub his cock to attention, he spoke, "Every time you wince, whine, shirk, shrug, or react in anyway to my cock inserting itself into you, I will pull back out and give you 1 lashing on the ass with this belt. This will continue until I can walk up behind you, fill you with my cock, and you refrain from any reaction whatsoever. Discipline, Cody. Control your body. A good boy should always be able to take Daddy's cock on demand."

He walked back to the bag, popped open a bottle of lube, and lathered his surging cock. Then he walked over to me, and disappeared behind me. A hand placed on my hip. I felt his massive mushroom-head plant against my tight, pink, and now hairless and clean hole. He pushed in gently enough, but it still felt a little sharp. "Hmph," I sharply let out with an attempt to muffle.

The tip pulled back. I felt his warmth leave me.

WHACK!!!

A sting morphed into a burn. My toes curled then straightened as I reactively attempted to escape the pain, but the leather binds from the ceiling and around my hands kept me so close, I could walk no more than a couple of feet away. In the chaos I spun around and faced my attacker.

Kitt stood there, as cold as ice, and said, "One." Then he raised a hand, pointed a finger down, and twirled it, commanding me to spin around. His cock flicked and stood at nearly 45 degrees with anticipation.

Kitt knew exactly what he was going to do before he did it.

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To be continued...