Beauty in the Beast
by Chester and Wrestlr
Disclaimer: There’s sex, hypnosis, sodomy, and maybe a few other minor perversions in this. If you don’t like that sort of thing, go elsewhere.
Copyright © 1999 by Chester and Wrestlr. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of “Adult Verification”) is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can’t use this without the express permission of (and payment to) the authors. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.
Comments to Chester (chester44@iname.com) and Wrestlr (wrestlr@iname.com)
Beauty in the Beast
Part 3. Day 2 (Morning).
| Ron | Brock |
| Ron awoke the next morning feeling the weight of a hard, warm body pressed tightly against him, one leg over his. It felt so good and a warmth came over him. The closeness and the cuddling, he thought—the best part. Slowly he turned, not wanting to wake Brock, but wanting to look at his beautiful body in a state of repose. Brock moved ever so slightly as he turned. Ron stared for only a few seconds and the eyes of the man next to him flickered and opened. | I didn’t get much sleep that night. I never do in a strange bed. I mostly just lay there with my legs entwined among his, one arm thrown proprietarily over him, enjoying the heat of his skin against mine. I felt Ron start moving around a little beside me, so I pulled him closer to make him be still. But instead he kept shifting around and trying to prop himself up on one elbow. Sheesh! What the heck was he doing? So I decided to open my eyes and officially wake up. |
| Brock smiled. Ron felt a tension and a passion run through his body. He roughly rolled on top of the boy and kissed him hard, forcing his mouth open and forcing his tongue deep into Brock’s mouth. There was no struggle, but the passion Ron felt for the “boy” was now overwhelming. He raised his body enough for his hard cock to have room and pinned Brock down by holding down his wrists. Deeper and deeper he penetrated the honey-mouth. Harder and harder his cock. He lifted himself up until his cock and balls were right above Brock’s mouth, still pinning him down with his hands. | He smiled, and I smiled, and he seemed to relax. His expression turned mischievous, like a kid with a new toy, and he rolled over onto me and kissed me full on the mouth. I didn’t fight back—I let him do what he wanted. I had my usual morning hard-on, and when I felt his pressed against my hip, I nearly shot right then and there. Ron took my wrists and pushed them over my head, pressing his weight down on them. He was kissing me hard then, smirking, he slid his hips up along my body, never letting go of my wrists. So he wanted to play rough, huh? Okay, I squirmed a little bit. |
| Brock tongued his balls and slowly licked his cock until in his own passion he swallowed it whole and sucked Ron into a frenzy. Ron listened to himself as though from a distance, screaming ... “Oh, fuck! ... yeah ... suck that, boy ... goddam, that feels good ... yeah ... oh, fuck!” He came dramatically, bruising Brock on the arms where his body pushed down so hard. Brock did not seem to care. Just as quickly it was over. | So what was I supposed to do? There was his cock nudging my chin like a friend, and Ron was grinning at me. So I kissed the head of his rod and, with a twist of my neck, managed to get it started into my mouth. He pushed in and I sucked him. He was loud, moaning and yelling and cursing, and that just made me work harder. He got a little rough as he fucked my face, then suddenly pulled out and came all over my chin and neck. |
| “God ... Brock ... I’m ... Shit. I didn’t mean to be so ... Hey! I’m sorry, I ...” Brock said nothing but lifted himself to Ron’s face and kissed him. Nothing more needed to be said. | He immediately had a guilt trip, with “I’m so sorry,” and “I didn’t mean to.” I was like, so what? It was fun, so I slipped my wrists out from under his hands and sat up to kiss him. |
| Ron wanted to get some breakfast for the two of them but his hardness didn’t go away. He couldn’t remember when he had sustained an erection this long. He kissed Brock on the forehead and went into the bathroom. | I hadn’t cum yet, and I was hoping he’d get the idea, but he looked so pleased with himself I decided it could wait. Maybe I’d make him suck me off after breakfast, right? Or maybe he’d let me fuck his ass. |
| Splashing water on his face, he looked in the mirror and could see Brock laying on the bed and looking at him. He pretended not to notice, but he could barely take his eyes away. When he did look in the mirror he was pleased to see that he could still be happy with his figure and his face seemed positively refreshed by the “workouts” the last twenty-four hours—it even seemed younger to him, the lines less severe. He rolled around some Listerine in his mouth, still peeking at the beautiful young man staring at him outside the room, and then wiping his face, he turned to leave. | So I wasn’t too disappointed when, instead of paying attention to my dick, he climbed off and went to the bathroom. I sat up, leaned back against the headboard, hands tucked behind my head, and watched him try to pretend he wasn’t watching me. He went about his morning rituals, washing his face, using some minty mouthwash to kill off his morning breath. My hard-on was making an obvious tent under the covers, and I could tell Ron was staring at it out of the corner of his eye. I grinned, innocent as a dog, and gave him an exaggerated wink. Damn, I thought Ron was going to choke on his mouthwash! |
| He couldn’t resist. “Hope you slept well. The Coach wants you.” | He came back to the foot of the bed, asked if I slept well. |
| He loved the way Brock’s eyes sort of rolled forward and then snapped shut, the way his body lost all muscle control and went into immediate relaxation, the way his face took on that robotic, peaceful glow. Ron moved over to the bed and sat next to the Brock. | “Coach wants you,” he said, and I felt myself starting to ... slip away somehow. I tried to fight it, tried to stay awake, but it felt too pleasant, too relaxing, like fading back into that half-conscious way you feel right as you’re starting to wake up but aren’t quite there yet. |
| He worked for a few minutes reinforcing a number of the wrestling images that he had worked with yesterday. He really did want to help Brock do better in wrestling. But soon his passion overwhelmed him and he gave further instructions to Brock. | I floated in that gray place I was starting to enjoy so much. Just drifted, weightless, while Coach’s voice swirled around me, telling me things that were very, very important, things he wanted me to do and that I wanted to do for him. |
| He told him to dress only in his wrestling uniform and gave him further instructions to tease and seduce Ron over breakfast. As soon as he had finished his juice he would feel very warm and strip naked. He would think that that was quite normal and not think twice about doing it. Every time Ron said the word “wrestle” in any form he would think it quite natural to get up and give Ron a deep kiss. | It was very important that I remember all of his instructions, but I couldn’t quite grab onto what he was saying. His voice lulled me and all I had to do was let it wash over and through me. Peaceful. All I had to do was follow Coach’s orders as he told me what to wear, what to eat, what to do. I was hard, and he was saying something about Ron, something that made me feel tingly and very sexy all over. |
| Immediately after, Brock would have an overwhelming desire for a cup of coffee, and as soon as he was finished drinking it, he would get up and go over to the sofa and put on the leather jacket he found there. As soon as he put on the leather jacket, he wouldn’t be Brock any more, he would be Brick—a young hustler, a tough street prostitute that was hired by this rich dude. Brick knew he would get very rich if he gave this guy what he wanted. | Coach told me a lot of things, and it was all very important. I had to listen, and I had to remember it. Coach knew what to do, and all I had to do was follow his orders. He would make me better. Make me happy. Make me rich. Coach would take away all the negatives in my life and free me to be who he wanted me to be. Who I wanted to be. All I had to do was want it badly enough, trust him, and follow his commands completely. |
| Ron went over the scenario a couple of times and had Brock repeat the instructions. Then he woke him as if nothing had happened and excused himself, with a quick but loving kiss, to go and make them breakfast. | I opened my eyes. Must have dozed off, I thought. Must have all been a dream. Ron was milling about, and he bent over and gave me a little kiss before he left to go start breakfast. I got up to pee and hit the shower. |
| Ron was a good cook and soon there was a breakfast of pancakes with yogurt pear sauce, sausages, muffins, and juice. A steaming pot of coffee completed the picture. Brock looked appreciatively pleased at the repast and sat down with eagerness. He was dressed only in his blue lycra tights. He wore no shoes or socks. | I pulled a singlet out of my bag and put it on. Nothing else—no jockstrap, no shoes. When I sauntered out to the kitchen, Ron had laid out quite a spread. I said something about the good food and pretended I didn’t see how his gaze devoured me. He had this hungry look, couldn’t get enough of me, and I admit I liked it. |
| Both Brock and Ron ate hungrily and talked about many things. Occasionally the talk would turn to wrestling and Brock would rise and kiss Ron and thank him for his hospitality. All the while, Brock would look up, chew, and smile in that cute, seductive way he had. He finished the last sausage and drained his glass of orange juice. He sat back and looked at Ron. | I ate like a pig. Ron jabbered on and on about this and that, and we talked a little about my life in college and the dorms and wrestling. I’d get up and go to the refrigerator and pour myself some more milk or O.J. As I’d pass by him I’d bend over and give him a little kiss. He really seemed to eat up the attention, and I felt really good giving it to him. |
| “Getting hot in here!” Again the smile as he stood and stripped out of his suit. “That’s better. Hey, that coffee smells good. I don’t usually drink coffee much but since you are such a good host and the coffee smells so good, I’ll wouldn’t mind having a cup.” | I downed the last of my O.J. It felt kind of warm in there, so I figured I’d give Ron a show. “Kinda hot in here,” I said, and I stood up, slipped the shoulder straps of my singlet down, then shimmied out of it and draped it over the back of my chair. |
| “No problem.” Ron rose and got a cup from the kitchen and started pouring him a cup. Brock rose, went over to the cabinet and took out a cigarette from the pack there, lit it and came back to the table. Ron’s hand shook as he placed the cup and saucer down next to the smoking jock. | “Coffee smells good,” I said, giving him a grin. “I don’t usually drink coffee, but ... could I get some?” Ron stammered that he’d be glad to pour me a cup, and while he busied himself fumbling with a cup and the pot, I took a cigarette from the pack over on the counter and lit up. |
| Brock inhaled deeply, let out the smoke, smiled and took a sip of coffee. “Mmmm,” he said, “That’s good!” He took another drag and seductively blew it into Ron’s coffee cup. | I sat down again with my chair turned so he could see my goods. Ron nearly dropped the hot coffee cup in my lap as he handed it to me. I took a deep drag on the cig. “Mmm, that’s good.” |
| “I find it odd that a wrestler would smoke”. Ron’s voice cracked a little. On the word “wrestler” Brock took a deep drag, rose and kissed Ron hard on the mouth, slowly letting the smoke escape into Ron’s mouth, enclosing his mouth completely so that when Ron breathed he would be forced to draw in the smoke. It was a long passionate kiss that gave Ron no choice but to breathe the delicious smoke which went immediately to his cock. Brock’s hand reached down and held it tightly. He came up for air, laughed a little, and went back to his chair drawing in deeply before putting the cigarette out. “Nice,” he said, smoke billowing from his mouth and nose. He finished his coffee. The smile faded. | You’d think he never saw a naked college jock smoke a cigarette before. He mumbled something about it being odd for a wrestler to smoke. I eyed him and thought, I’ll show him odd. I drew the smoke deep into my lungs, stood up, and clamped my mouth over Ron’s. I started to exhale the smoke into his mouth. He resisted a little as my tongue and the smoke invaded his mouth. He tried to fight it, but he had to breathe, and then the smoke flowed from my lungs, across our tongues, and into his. I reached down and found his cock. Hard. I knew it would be. I gave it a lingering squeeze before I pulled back and sat down. “Nice,” I said as I snubbed out the cigarette and reached for my coffee cup. |
| He rose as though in a trance and walked over to the couch where Ron had lain out a worn biker’s jacket he had picked up at a garage sale. Brock put the jacket on. | I swallowed the last of it and felt ... suddenly light-headed. I stood up and walked over to the couch. There was the jacket, right where Coach had said. I put it on. |
| A hardness came over his face. | Just get this job over, I thought. |
| “Okay, fucker. Where we gonna get it on?” | “Okay, mister. Wanna get it on here, or where?” |