This story is entirely fictional and the characters therein are fictional and any association with persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. The story may contain sexual references or behavioral descriptions as well as graphic descriptions that might be considered pornographic. If such things are offensive or distasteful to you, the reader, please cease reading immediately and destroy this data.
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Part III
It was early Sunday morning when Mark pulled into the parking spot in front of the Westside Gym. He noticed that the only other vehicle there was his brother-in-law Frank's Land Rover. He took a deep breath, grabbed his kit bag and walked slowly to the door. Mary had held true to her promise that he would be punished for his dalliance with the ladies at his crossfit box, but he had no idea that she would ask her brother to administer it. Frank was older, 40ish, and very protective of his little sister. He had given her away at their wedding since their dad had passed and, on numerous occasions, Frank had made half-jokingly veiled threats to Mark regarding his treatment of her. Mark wasn't afraid, just apprehensive about what Frank would have in mind as a punishment. They did not spend much time together even though they were both in the fitness industry. While Mark was a 6' tall, 180# lean and mean crossfit instructor, Frank was 6-4 and 260# of almost pure heavyweight MMA muscle. Aside from their age difference, Frank was pretty much a loner and had never married. His gym was also far more successful than Mark's and he had recently expanded it to include a fighting ring so that he could draw the MMA folks.
Mark went in and no sooner had he entered the lobby he heard Frank's deep voice bellow, "In here, Mark!". Frank's office was just off the lobby and Mark found him behind his desk doing paperwork.
"Hi Frank," Mark said, walking up to the edge of the desk with his hand outstretched.
"This isn't a social call Mark, you know that. From here on out address me as Sir and only Sir."
Mark was a bit taken back by this and Frank hadn't even looked up from what he was doing. He muttered a confused "Yes sir" and stepped back to sit in one of the chairs Frank had for visitors.
"You'll sit when I tell you to sit!" Frank barked, "Throw your bag on that chair behind you and get your ass to attention."
Mark did as he was told, knowing the drill from being in the Army. Frank had been in the Marines and so the sudden slide into an authoritarian and military scenario didn't seem unusual given the circumstances.
"Now then, I see this as an inconvenience and I don't like to be inconvenienced. I also don't like it when my little sis sends her husband to me for discipline. I have some ideas about that, but I want to be fair, in fact, I don't even know the details of what you did. No matter, here's the deal. I am going to give you a fighting chance to get out of your punishment, mano-a-mano, in the ring. In fact, if you best me I will submit to you and you can punish me instead. If I win, you submit to what I have for you, deal?"
"Uhh, I guess so," Mark was confused, "uhh, Sir!" he added quickly.
"Good, let's go to the mat, just leave your bag where it is, you won't need it. Follow me." Frank stood up from behind the desk, his massive size towering over Mark, and led the smaller man out the door. Frank wore a skintight, sleeveless exercise shirt and pair of loose workout shorts. Mark marveled at his size and how cut he was, which was not how he remembered him from the wedding given that Frank had been wearing a loose suit and did not stick around for the reception. As they walked Frank peeled off his shirt and when they got to the ring at the other side of the building he pulled his shorts off as well. He knew Mark was staring at him so he paused for a moment with his fists on his waist, legs spread. Mark gasped as he took in the perfect physical specimen of mature alpha-male that Frank revealed. Under his shorts was a pair of skintight white MMA briefs that left nothing to the imagination. The inverted v-shaped patch of brown fur framing his pecs traveled down across his abs and disappeared behind the waistband of his boxing briefs. From his tight glutes to the huge bulge at his crotch he was the picture of raw masculinity.
"You'll be wearing this Mark," Frank said as he tossed Mark what appeared to be a dirty jockstrap and climbed into the ring.
"Uhh, Sir," Mark stammered, staring at the dirty jock in his hand, "I don't think I like where this is going." The jock made him uneasy as he had always wondered about Frank's sexuality. As far as he knew there had never been a woman in his life and he was a loner. Mark had suspected that Frank was gay and now he was sure of it.
"I see," Frank replied casually. "You are concerned that at some point I might bugger you up the ass, right?"
Mark nodded slowly. Then Frank continued "That's one thing that won't happen unless you want it to happen. You'll need to beg me and even then I may not do it. You have a choice, get your kit and head back to your wife, or get that jock on and get into this ring."
Mark thought for a minute and then decided that if he left now Mary would no doubt kick him out and that was the last thing he wanted. At least with Frank's assurance that he wouldn't be buggered he felt a bit better. So he peeled off his clothes and pulled the dirty strap on, noticing that it smelled like it had never been washed. He climbed into the ring and faced Frank.
"Good Boy! Now there are some rules Mark, as I want this to be a fair fight, but the rules only apply to me. I will not hit you with a closed fist or strike your nuts in any way. You, on the other hand, can hit me, punch me, grab me or kick me anywhere you like and as hard as you like to try and take me down. Both of us will signal that we are about to break a bone or dislocate something to give the other man the opportunity to tap out. There is only one round and it goes until one of us yields. Agreed?"
"Yes Sir!" Mark said excitedly. He knew exactly how he was going to take Frank down and it wouldn't be painless for the big man. It was clear that Frank was not wearing a cup, and the size of his dick was staggering as it was sharply outlined under the tight fabric of his shorts. Mark estimated 8" and lying atop a pair of balls that were the size of lemons. Those balls made an easy target and he began thinking about what punishment he might give Frank after he won. "I wonder how Frank would look coming into the gym tomorrow dressed like a cheerleader?" he mused, "Or maybe have to sprint naked around the building a few times."
"OK," Frank said, "let's go."
The big man just stood in place as Mark charged him from the other side of the ring. Frank knew what Mark was going to try to do and that was incapacitate him with a hard hit to the groin. Mark's plan was to ram his head into Frank's crotch before he knew what hit him. He thought he was faster than Frank, and besides, he had the no rules advantage. Suddenly Frank sidestepped and Mark was astonished at how quickly the huge man could move. As Frank stepped aside he landed a loud smacking slap to one of Mark's ass cheeks causing Mark to run into the ropes and let out a loud yelp of pain. Turning around, he charged Frank again, wildly. This time Frank did not step out of the way, but instead he crouched and slapped Mark roughly across his face. "Owww! Unfair, you said you wouldn't hit me in the face!"
"No Mark, I said I wouldn't hit you with a closed fist, that was a slap, like this one." Frank slapped Mark hard on the other cheek, hard enough to snap his head sideways. "If I hit you with my fist you'd be knocked out--I want you awake," Frank grinned. Mark was starting to feel dizzy from the slaps, which might as well have been punches from the beefy paws that Frank wielded. Angrily, he tried to kick Frank between his legs, but Frank just grabbed his foot and flipped him over onto the mat.
"Time to end this, boy" Frank growled as he pounced on Mark. Mark's breath went out of him as Frank rapidly crawled over him like a huge spider, lifting his legs up to his shoulders and locking Mark's muscular arms against his own thighs.
