Trapped at the Gym

I was visiting Brisbane for a few days and staying near Fortitude Valley, the night-life filled part of town. I wasn't after the night-life, but I had found what looked like a really good gym there to work out in, as I was being very serious at the time.

The equipment really was good, but when I arrived to work out, it was very, very busy. This was a bit annoying, because it made it hard to get onto the equipment I needed in the right order. But I got into my routine, chest and back, and didn't pay attention to anything else until I had finished the chest section, when I suddenly realized that almost everyone else had left.

I went out to the desk to check I had the closing time right, which I had thought was 10 pm. "Yes, that's right. You have another hour and a half," the muscular, but lean blond guy on reception said. "Don't worry. It's the first State of Origin game tonight, so everyone's gone home early to watch the football."

"Great," I said happily, glad I had the gym to myself—almost. I wasn't that into Rugby myself, but I knew that the Queensland and New South Wales state sides, best-of-three games were an institution in the states of both New South Wales and Queensland, and I was in Queensland.

As I returned to the free weights area to start my bent-over rows, I saw him. He was bench-pressing with four 20-kg plates on the bar, about 180 pounds, and he made it look easy. He was a big white guy with lots of tattoos and a shaved head, of what was probably dark hair, that also had something tattooed on it.

I have to say I keep clear of guys who looked like him, and as I am serious when I am training, it was easy to forget he was there. Until I had to go for a piss.

I was going to finish my session with half an hour of running on the treadmill, but I had to go to the men's room first. And it was as I was tucking myself back in and turning to leave that I was confronted by him, the tattooed hulk from the bench press, blocking the doorway. He was filling it with his arms spread and his hands hanging on to the top of the frame and his legs parted while his big skull tilted to one side as he studied me.

"You new here?" he asked.

"Just visiting," I replied, tidying my shorts. "Nice gym."

I moved towards him, wanting to leave, but he just hung there in the doorway, looking me over. "Visiting," he said as if thinking about it.

"Yes, just visiting. I have some treadmill work to do now so . . ." I said, making it clear I wanted to get past him.

But he didn't move.

"Nice ass you've got there. Are you a taker? I reckon you are. Nice piece too, but I reckon you take it up the ass," he said. Then he dropped his arms and stood to one side of the doorway, leering at me. I still had to brush past him to get out, and I felt his hand pat my ass as I squeezed by, getting a lungful of his sweaty musky body odour.

I was shaking as I hurried past him. He was scaring me. But I was in a big gym, I reassured myself, and once I was out of the men's change rooms, I just wanted to finish my programme and get out. And there were still a few other people about. I hit the treadmill and tried to keep my mind on the TV up in front of me.

After a few minutes I had almost forgotten the guy, just noticing him coming out and moving onto the Smith machine for some incline work. Muscles bulged all over him as he pumped the loaded bar up and down. Then another guy, almost as big as him and with almost as many tatts, and also a shaved head, appeared to spot for him.

Pain in the asses, I thought, but only twenty minutes to go and I am out of here.

After that, though, I felt I was being watched, and I made sure I didn't look their way. I wasn't giving them any encouragement. But, unfortunately, they didn't need any, because a few minutes later the pair of them came over and stood, one on each side of me, as I jogged into nowhere. I didn't' know what to do and just kept jogging and looking at the TV as if they might go away if I ignored them.

But out of the corner of my eye I saw the first one's hand drop, and he reached into his shorts and pushing the waistband down freed an engorging rod that matched the size of all his other body parts. "How do you like the look of this?" he asked me, pulling the half-hard monster out. "I think he likes you."

I admit it, I couldn't not look. I took just a quick glance at that big piece of meat he was holding before I fixed my eyes back on the TV.

"I'm sorry. I am not interested, mate," I said, between pants, but looking about and discovering the gym was empty except for the three of us.

Now his spotting partner was on the other side of me, stripping off his T-shirt and leering at me. " I reckon that monster of yours sure does like this new guy, Buster," he said, still leering and pushing down his own shorts and grasping a hard rod as big as his mate's. "And this fella here likes him too," he added, stroking himself.

In the distance I could hear the sounds of the State of Origin game on TV and knew the guy on reception was too busy watching that to care what was happening in the gym. And he wasn't likely to go up against the two muscular giants blocking me in any more than I was.

But it was time I did something and stopped just being a wimp and scared of them I decided. "Hey guys, I have to go," I said as firmly as I could and moved to slow the treadmill. But a big hand landed on mine and turned up the speed instead till I was having trouble going fast enough to keep up. Finally, I had the sense to hit the safety stop, and the treadmill came to a jarring halt that unbalanced me.

The big one, Buster, had leapt up behind me with shocking speed and lightness before I had even regained my balance, and with a big firm hand, he pushed me forward and over the control panel of the treadmill. I struggled to wriggle out from under him, but his mate had a steel grip on my right wrist and pulled my arm forward and under the panel I was leaning over. Then I felt something at my wrist and, fighting to pull myself free, found he'd tied that arm off to something on the machine. Frantically, I reached my other arm to try and untie whatever it was, as I felt Buster slide my shorts down off my ass.

"Hmmmm," he rumbled, "nice pale ass," and while one big hand pressed hard between my shoulder blades, the other one palmed my naked butt and squeezed it hard.

"Leave me alone," I shouted, struggling, really scared of what they were going to do to me. I was not into men. No way was I into men. "Hey. In here," I shouted loudly, hoping the blond guy on reception would hear me. But I heard the crowd at the State of Origin game surge into a great roar at the same time, a roar that told me someone had kicked a goal in the big game just when I was screaming for help.

Then Buster's mate was stuffing his shorts into my mouth and had grabbed my other wrist, and I was in a real panic. I was having trouble breathing as he stuffed the shorts in and was scared shitless of what they were going to do to me. Given the size of both of them, my virgin ass was in danger of being split open I was sure. I lurched upright, suddenly struggling free of the hand holding me and . . . I felt Buster stepping off the treadmill. I was free to lift my head up because he had removed his big hand and his mate was pulling his shorts back on and bouncing onto another nearby treadmill and starting it up. In less than a moment they were acting as if nothing had happened, and as I hurried to free my wrist, I looked around, expecting to see the guy from reception had come in. But instead I saw a lean tall man staring at me and then at my attackers.

"Bryce, Hosea," the new arrival called out, and two huge honey-skinned men with Polynesian faces, Islanders, who made Buster and his friend look like undernourished weaklings, ambled in. "The white boys are here, and a stranger, who they seem to have been thinking of playing with."

"Hey, man. We weren't doing anything. Just working out," Buster shouted angrily.

I just wanted to get out of there. And jumping off the treadmill as I pulled my shorts back up, I literally ran past the new arrivals while leaving as much room as possible between us.

I hit the reception area only to be grabbed by the arm and swung around the intervening wall.

"Fuck man, I didn't realise you were in there alone with them," hissed the blond from reception.

"I shouted," I hissed back at him as he held on to me, and we both stood up against the low dividing wall, hidden from the men in the gym by the wall and the glossy, green indoor foliage that grew up and over it.

"Anthony is going to make them pay," the blond said, his eyes big, and staring at me in an odd way. "It . . .it will be awesome." He seemed to be moaning the words, and I was totally confused as he continued to hang on to me. Then I looked through the plants and back into the gym, and my jaw dropped.

Bryce and Hosea had in a few moments turned the tables on the two muscular hulks, and Anthony was giving them backup, or maybe telling them what to do.

Buster's mate was now getting the same treatment I'd had, but from Bryce. And it looked like Buster himself had almost got away, because he was out of the treadmill area and being dragged to the Smith machine by the Islander, Hosea, and the tall man, Anthony.

"Fuck," the blond whispered. "Hosea and Anthony will kill Buster. And Barney too, geez, this will be murder. But it has been coming for a while. The New Zealanders against the local boys."

I tried to be invisible as I watched, stunned at first by what was happening in the gym.

Hosea had lifted the smith machine bar up almost as high as it would go in the machine's frame, while the lean guy, Anthony, was holding Buster in a head lock. Then Hosea grabbed both Buster's wrists and pulled his arms up so quick they looked like they might have disconnected. When he had tied Busters wrists off to the bar, Hosea gave it another shove, up another peg, and Buster was hanging down and stretched out like some prisoner in an old movie who was ready to be whipped.

But there was no whipping. "No!" I gulped, seeing what came next.

Hosea had stripped off, and Anthony was down on his knees in front of Hosea, sucking on the end of his massive pole. If Buster and his mate were big, they looked underdeveloped compared to Hosea. As Anthony sucked, Hosea ran his hands roughly over Buster's body, squeezing and pinching and flicking, making the big man shiver and tremble. And I realised the sounds I could hear over the noise of the big game on TV were Buster's whimpers and pleadings to be let go. His cries of "I'll never do it again, Hosea. Never, man. This is your gym. Just let me go, and we will never come back. I swear, man," were pathetic to hear, as Hosea's huge rod slid in and out of Anthony's mouth and filled out to a massive thickness and length.

The big honey-coloured man said nothing I could hear, just ran his hands up and down Buster's quivering chest and arms until Anthony stopped his sucking and stood up. Then Hosea turned Buster around and palmed Buster's firm round butt cheeks as Anthony moved around and began to suck him up. Then Hosea was swaying gently, and his hands were parting those ass cheeks and fingering between them, and Buster was struggling more noticeably, and shouting louder. But Hosea just kept playing his fingers around Buster's hole, and I was too fascinated to stop watching.

I didn't fully realize how fascinated I had been until I felt the blond's hand reaching into my shorts for my dick, which I realised I had already been stroking myself, and I groaned as he made contact and pushed my shots and briefs off me. Warm skin on skin, god, then he was kneeling before me and his wet warm mouth wrapped around my cock, and I was in heaven. I had no idea a man's mouth would feel so good on my dick and I was soon hard and throbbing and moving my hips instinctively, fucking his face. I couldn't help it. His mouth felt so darned good. For a while I lost touch with what was happening in the gym. When I dopily glanced back, through the foliage and over the shoulder high wall we were hidden behind, I saw in front of me and in the mirrors that Anthony was still sucking on Buster's engorged tool and that Hosea had moved closer to Buster's ass.

Hosea was moving his hips while reaching around and cupping Buster's pecs in his hands and squeezing and stroking them, and as he moved, I saw from where I was that he was dry fucking up between Buster's bulbous butt cheeks with his monster cock. Meanwhile, Anthony's hands were reaching around Busters hips and grasping those muscular mounds and spreading them apart. Hosea moved one hand down, and, grasping his own dick, he pulled Buster's hips to him and, to the sound of an almighty wail from Buster, entered him. The noise of the game on the TV in reception was now and again subsiding enough to hear the moans and slapping bodies of the men fucking in the gym. Including me.

Yes, I was moaning too, and when the blond rose up and took my mouth in a kiss, I couldn't resist, but all I wanted was to push him back down onto my throbbing cock, and it was only a brief kiss.

Anthony stood up and moved around behind Hosea as the giant plowed Buster's ass in big deep strokes; then he moved in close to Hosea's even more bulbous butt, and, taking his own long thin dick in his hand, he parted the giant's butt cheeks and moved in for the fuck. Hosea stilled and just pulled Buster back and forth on his cock as Anthony went into a wild fucking frenzy behind him.

I was too busy then face-fucking the blond from the reception desk to my completion to see what was happening to Buster's mate back in the treadmill area. But my head rolled in that direction as I moaned loudly and came, pumping my semen deep into the blond's throat, and I got another shock. Barney had somehow got the guy resting up on his shoulders with his legs wrapped around the arms of the treadmill as he fucked his great pole down into him.

I could see it, that brown slick cock moving in and out of him, as the guy's own erect cock flapped about and his arms struggled to balance him and stop his head being driven into the ground by the pounding he was receiving. As I was watching them, the blond pulled off my subsiding piece and pulled my hand to his own erection as he stood and joined me in looking over the wall through the conveniently placed foliage at the action taking place.

That hot pole in my hand was arousing, and I was swimming in such a sea of semen and lust that I stroked it eagerly and even fell to my knees wanting to taste it. I was desperate to discover the taste and feel of another man, something I had never done before, or particularly wanted to do before, but was now totally obsessed with.

I could feel the blond moving his hips as my mouth made an amateur attempt at sucking on him, nearly choking myself as I tried deep throating him before I pulled back and concentrated on holding his shaft and just taking the last bit of his dick in and playing my tongue and lips over the head and foreskin. He came quickly, and I let his come spurt over my hands and chest. I was filling out again myself, and, standing up, I joined him in looking over the wall again. His hand reached again for me, and my hand reached for him, and we began a mutual stroke session, watching the action going on before us.

Anthony was pulling out of Hosea, who was pushing Buster off his throbbing monster. And that was when the blond disappeared for a few moments and returned and crowned my hard dick with a condom. And as the men changed places and I was moaning at the thought of what was coming, the blond pulled my face to him and we kissed, a sexy kiss, and he whispered, "Fuck me man, I am dying to feel that piece of yours inside me,"

I was lost and ready to fuck anything, and as he turned around and bent over and spread his ass cheeks for me, I zeroed in on his puckered entrance and willingly did what nature demanded—I plugged the nearest tight, willing, hot hole. He was firm on me, and there was some resistance. "Oh, fuck," I gasped, as I had trouble working myself in, more from lack of experience and heat than anything else.

And he yelped, and was hissing at me, "No. Fuck. Oh, geez, gentler. Oh. Oh. Uh. Uh. Yes. Deeper. Ohhhhh," and writhed under me until I was finally in to the hilt, my pubic hair buried against his ass. And then I fucked him in a rapid-fire desire for release as he worked his hips in counterrhythm with me.

I glanced over to see Barney jerk as he came in Buster's mate's ass. I just hung there, overwhelmed, still buried in the blond's ass as Barney pulled out of Buster's mate and kicked him off the treadmill.

Buster's mate clutched his shorts and T-shirt to his chest and staggered towards us, and I was too dazed to move. When he came running unsteadily around the dividing wall, he almost stopped as he stared at us for a moment with wild eyes, his dick hard and erect. Then he half fell over, putting his shorts on before staggering out of the doors into the night.

I was aching or release and returned to fucking the hunky blond before glancing back into the gym. Hosea was standing by, stroking himself, as Anthony pulled Buster back and forth on his own thinner pole. And I wondered how long they would stay like that.

Closing my eyes as I got lost in the fuck, I was aware of moaning, and knew it was me, and didn't care. I had never even been given a hand job by another man before that night, but I was loving the tight feel of the blond's channel on me as I built to my next climax. Then I felt, more than heard, the movement of people and opened my eyes to find Hosea smiling at me and stroking his massive, still half-hard organ, as I fucked on helplessly, the come rising in me as I pounded the blond and pressed a hand firmly on his back to hold him down as he was trying to rise up under me. As I came, my glazed eyes saw Buster weaving bowlegged out of the gym and then Barney and Anthony were coming around the corner and stopping to watch us as well, and they smiled at me too.

"Oh shit," I said, as Anthony moved in behind me and I felt his long fingered hands part my cheeks and a finger slid into my ass. I knew what was coming, and I didn't resist.

Anthony was gentle with me. And when I had withdrawn from the blond, I found that watching Barney take my place and hold his massive rod and begin to work it into the blond's well opened entrance to the sound of his moans and groans was more than arousing enough to keep me in heat, as Anthony replaced his fingers with his long thin cock and I arched and cried out at the pain, but didn't try to get away.

It was quite a night. One I will never forget, and full of firsts. But I didn't go anywhere near a gym for the rest of my time in Brisbane.