Hey everyone! Huge thank you to everyone who played the keyword game. You guys went some places I did not expect, and I am loving the creative exercise. I ended up going a bit dark, thanks to what you all voted for hehe. The top five vote-getters were:
Luke Brown (Tricked)
Evan Pettigrew (Accident)
Danny (Cockfight)
Londonfxg (Rewards)
MkBare (Sensitive Bully)
Instead of just one, I decided to give ALL FIVE of you a free paperback of your choice from my collection! If you already have them all, then I’ll give you the next one ;) I'll DM you guys to sort it out.
Below is a preview of the story, since I'm still working out the final touches.
This one's for all of you guys!
Cheers,
Cody
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Everyone is 18+ and fully consenting.
Jock Friend Tricked Me Into Being a Freak
I started going to the campus rec center in September because I've got some hair on my balls now and I thought it was time to get my muscle game going.
That's the honest version. The longer version is that my roommate slept until noon, the dining hall didn't open until eight, and I had an hour to kill before my first class. The gym was free with my student ID. I had a base from soccer through high school, decent enough that a couple small programs had looked at me before I decided I didn't want my whole college experience to be about a sport. So I had an athletic base, but zero general skill to just “work out”. I didn't know anything about actually lifting, about programming, about how to get giant arms or look like a model.
When I got to the gym, the first thing I felt was a slight flash of fear. I was alone, I didn’t know what I was doing, and there was a certain smell that made me feel like a bully might be around any corner.
But I didn’t exactly encounter a bully. I encountered Charlie.
He was doing Romanian deadlifts in the free weight section when I came in, and I noticed him because he stood out. He was tall, but not heavy, lean and defined rather than big. He looked like he had put in years of actual work. He had dark brown hair, slightly curly, cut short enough to stay out of his face, a slight tan that looked year-round. When he moved, I could see everything working underneath, no excess anywhere, just defined muscular form, the human body the way artists sculpt it. His arms looked bigger every time he bent down and came back up. His chest filled his tank top in a way that made me self conscious of my own body, but also motivated.
I made a quick plan to copy him without being obvious about it. I grabbed a smaller version of the weights he was using and posted up two stations down from him. The gym was mostly empty, so it was really just us on this side of the room. I started doing reps, with poor form, and kept an eye on him out of the corner of my eye, trying to self-correct my form.
He caught me watching immediately, and instead of ignoring it he just said, "Hinge at the hip, not the lower back," and went back to his set.
I had no idea what he was talking about. I did another rep, slightly differently, when he chuckled like I was a little boy trying to copy his older brother.
He came over. “I’ll show you. I’m Charlie.”
He put his hands on my hips. “These go straight up and down. Bend here.”
He put a hand on my lower back and pressed his palm against me. The physical touch of a stranger who looked like a god was part embarrassing and part exciting. It felt good just getting attention from him, even if it highlighted my awkwardness.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Now bend,” he said, getting on with it.
I did one rep slowly, as his hands followed my body, holding me steady.
“That’s it,” he said.
I was already out of breath. It was hard doing it correctly, even with the small weights.
“I need to move down on the weights.”
“No shame in that,” he said, shooting me a wink and returning to his impressive stack of steel, landing a few more reps.