The Joystic Joust

*WARNING*

Contains explicit M/M and non-consent narrative. Proceed with caution if these themes disturb you.

*WARNING*

The Joystick Joust

An unexpected twist occurred under the mantle of night, leaving me hovering between disbelief and curiosity. Wanderlust had seized us, as my team and I journeyed nomadically from city to city, mesmerizing eager college students with our competitive Super Smash Bros. gameplay. We were not the epitome of financial success, yet we were gratified by the growth of our fan base, which was as vibrant and robust as the energy-drink-fueled enthusiasm that filled the dorms we stayed in from bet to bet, game to game.

In the midst of this gaming journey, we landed in a particular dorm, a monument to college male whimsy. The walls bore the marks of many late-night gaming sessions, with its worn-out appearance barely holding up under the strain of a top-tier gaming setup. Their priorities were undeniably clear.

As our eclectic squad of six blended effortlessly with the twelve residents, we were crammed like Tetris blocks in a living room that reeked of adrenaline and independence. Each of our bodies left imprints on the well-used couch and recliner, as the potent mix of energy drinks and pizza gradually lulled us into a deep sleep.

When I awoke, the room was still heavy with the scent of stale pizza and energy drinks, the post-game of the post-game. The only signs of life were the rhythmic clicks of game controllers, the conductors of which were Kieran, our emo-gothic specialist in defensive play, and Joe, a resident of our temporary dwelling.

Kieran was a canvas of youthful rebellion, adorned with various piercings that decorated his face like a constellation in the night sky. His hair, a curtain of black threaded with streaks of neon green, framed a face that seemed to magnetize our sparse female fans. Kieran's eyes, usually filled with playful defiance, were clouded with irritation as he sat on Joe's lap.

Joe, on the other hand, was a stark contrast to Kieran. His burly frame, covered by a striped polo shirt and board shorts, was like a tower compared to Kieran's slender build. His face bore a smug grin, a testament to his apparent victory in their silent gaming battle.

"Damn it!" exclaimed Kieran, his frustration evident.

"Ha, bite the dust again, bitch," Joe jeered, his voice dripping with a mix of condescension and playful mockery.

Kieran muttered a colorful array of expletives under his breath as he took a hit from the bong and passed it back to Joe, who was reveling in the moment. The first light of dawn was creeping in, highlighting their silhouettes in the soft glow.

"Time for your victory dance, sweetheart," Joe teased, his voice echoing with a lecherous undertone.

Kieran rolled his eyes, "You're just a asshole, Joe."

"Then prove me wrong, little Princess," Joe retorted. Despite the derogatory language, Kieran remained unfazed. The rules of a friendly bet were sacred to him, and he wouldn't dream of backing out. With a resigned sigh, he began to move rhythmically on Joe's lap, his tight jeans rubbing against the rough fabric of Joe's shorts. It was an absurd sight, an unintentionally hilarious spectacle of a bet gone awry.

"Give it your best shot, pansy," Kieran taunted, but as he spoke, he began to bend over, presenting himself to Joe. Though the situation was ridiculous, Kieran was a man of his word. An 18-year-old, still abiding by the unspoken rules of adolescent games. A bet's a bet, after all, and he would see it through. His tight black jeans stretched over his buttocks, a sight that would have been comical in any other circumstance. But not tonight, not in this game of humiliation.

Joe caught my eye from across the room, putting a finger to his lips in a silent plea for discretion. I returned the gesture with a sly wink. A part of me wanted to burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. The stakes of their game had escalated to such a point that each loss required a greater sacrifice of dignity. The lapdance had been the pinnacle so far, but who knew how much further they would push each other?

The television screen flickered from above, reflecting the light onto Kieran's face. He lost again. Joe smirked. "Jesus Christ, what now?" Kieran grumbled in defeat.

"Seems like you really suck at games, Kieran. Makes me wonder what else you suck at," Joe teased, a devilish glint in his eye.

Kieran shot back a glare. "Screw you. I can beat you at any game!"

"Guess it's time to up the ante," Joe declared, a mischievous tone in his voice. "You lose, you striptease."

Kieran's face was drained of color. "What?!"

"You heard me. It keeps getting better until you win one. Thought you played this before."

"I have, but..."

"Nothing to debate," Joe's voice was firm, commanding, his eyes fixed on Kieran. "Time to honor your part of the wager. Remove your trousers, and mine too, while you're at it, little bitch." Kieran complied, albeit reluctantly. A sense of unease had painted itself on his face, hinting at a conflict of emotions within him.

Kieran's hands trembled slightly as he reached for the hem of his jeans. His gaze flickered towards Joe, seeking some hint of mercy. "You do realize what this looks like, right?" he questioned, his voice carrying a nervous undertone that was hard to miss.

Joe's response was a laugh, deep and rumbling, that echoed around the room, filling the space with an aura of invincible self-assurance. "Perhaps you should have considered that before losing, Kieran. Otherwise, anyone who walks in gets an eyeful of your generous, round backside." The words were punctuated by a suggestive wink in my direction. I bit my lip, holding back a fit of laughter.

As Kieran bent to the task, a sight unfolded before Joe's eyes that drew his breath away. Kieran's jeans slipped down, revealing a bubble butt that was far more enticing than he had anticipated. It was round, plump, and firm, a pleasing contrast to Kieran's otherwise slim figure. Joe's heart skipped a beat, a rush of adrenaline fueling his anticipation.

Meanwhile, Kieran was facing his own revelations. As he reached for Joe's belt, he couldn't help but notice the significant bulge in his boxers. Even through the fabric, it was clear that Joe was impressively endowed. Kieran swallowed hard, estimating it to be around eight inches even in its flaccid state. A sense of obligation to uphold the bet compelled Kieran to proceed, even as the reality of the situation set in.

Kieran sighed, bracing himself as he lowered his bare buttocks onto Joe's coarse, hairy thighs. He tried in vain to avoid Joe's crotch, but the slick sweat between them made his attempts futile. He finally surrendered to gravity, resigning himself to the awkward position.

The game resumed.

"Hey, don't just sit there," Joe prodded, a wicked grin on his face. "You haven't earned the right to stop moving. You lost. Now dance."

Kieran began to move again, his body rolling in a rhythm that was more desperation than seduction. It was a ridiculous sight, and I would have laughed if not for the sight of Joe's growing arousal. The sight of it was impressive, intimidating even. I suddenly felt a twinge of sympathy for Kieran. Being this close to Joe in his current state must have been daunting.

Kieran's expression shifted from defeat to resignation as he lost yet another round of the game. His body, slick with sweat from the stimulating lap dance, tensed in anticipation of Joe's next demand. Joe, reveling in the intoxicating power of the moment, fixed a predatory smile on his lips. His eyes fell on Kieran, the latter's hairless body under the soft glow of the ambient light. Joe's cock outline, visibly throbbing through his boxers, was an ominous sight. It was a beast waiting to be unleashed, a testament to the virility that was Joe's dominance and attitude.

"Alright then, Kieran," Joe commanded, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down Kieran's spine. Kieran, trying to steel himself for what was to come, slid Joe's boxers down, revealing the monstrous size of his manhood. Veiny, thick, and intimidatingly large, Joe's organ was a sight to behold. It stood proudly like a monster can, a symbol of his dominance, pulsating with unabashed desire.

The sight was overwhelming for Kieran, his eyes widened as he took in the enormity of Joe's dick. Sweat trickled down his forehead, his breath hitched, and a sense of terror mixed with a perverse fascination washed over him. He was about to step into an uncharted territory, a place where he was no longer in control. A place where Joe reigned supreme.

Joe, relishing in Kieran's reaction, allowed a triumphant smirk to form on his lips. He moved to straddle Kieran, his massive dick grazing against Kieran's face. The contact sent a jolt through Kieran's body, his heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel the heat radiating from Joe's engorged member.

Joe then lowered himself, forcing Kieran to experience the humiliating intimate act of teabagging. The lewd intimacy of the act was a stark contrast to the power dynamics at play. Kieran, submitting to Joe out of a twisted sense of obligation, was on his knees, his face pressed against Joe's huge manhood. Joe, the dominant asshole he was, reveled in the sheer power he held over Kieran.

The situation escalated as Joe, driven by the thrill of the moment, slapped Kieran with his thick meat, the smack resonating in the room. Kieran jolted, his face flushed with shock and embarrassment. The sheer size and weight of Joe's cock made the weightful impact sting more than Kieran had expected.

As the night wore on, the tension between the two men heightened, their bodies intertwined in a dance of dominance and submission. Kieran, although horrified at the turn of events, found himself unable to break away from Joe's commanding presence. And Joe, basking in the intoxicating power he held over Kieran.

"Joe, this is just wrong," Kieran protested, his voice barely above a whisper. His skin was smooth, hairless, a stark contrast to the rugged masculinity Joe was known for. This was a boundary they had never crossed, and yet, Kieran found himself on his knees, fingers grappling with the buttons of his controller as Joe's fleshy monster draped his face, effectively blocking his vision as he struggled to win his dignity back.

The room was thick with tension, my heart pounded in my chest as I watched the scene unfold. Part of me wanted to intervene, to stop this madness, but I remained silent, frozen in disbelief at what was unfolding. This was going crazy far. I was resigned to watch as Kieran lost.

Kieran's wide, innocent eyes were locked on Joe's exposed baton at full size. His expression was a mix of fear and fascination as his gaze landed on the imposing appendage in front of him. Joe's cock was intimidatingly large now, it must be about 10 inches, and thick like a Monster can.

"What's the matter, bitch? Dick got your tongue?" Joe taunted, a sadistic smile curling his lips.

Kieran, never one for confrontation, merely muttered a whisper, "Screw you." His eyes never leaving Joe's crotch.

They found themselves in another game, the intensity of their naked bodies glistening with sweat adding an extra layer of tension. Joe wore a victorious grin as Kieran's focus was torn away from the game. His eyes were glued to the monstrous dong in front of him, the sight of which was admittedly quite distracting.

"No," Kieran breathed out, his voice barely audible. But it was too late. Joe was already in position, his balls and massive dick dangling against Kieran's contorted expression. The weight of them on Kieran's chin and nose sent an unexpected thrill through his body.

Kieran lost yet another round. His eyes flickered up to meet Joe's, a silent plea in his gaze. But Joe was relentless. With a swift movement, he guided Kieran's lips towards his waiting cock. And just like that, the game was forgotten. The room filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, glucks, glacks, and muffled moans as Kieran took Joe massive girth into his mouth.

The taste was foreign, the texture even more so. But as Kieran adjusted, he found himself growing harder. The sensation of Joe's cock sliding against his tongue, the weight of his balls slapping on his chin as Joe thrusted with wild abandon, it was all too much. His own cock throbbed in response to the intimate act, a reaction that left him both confused and intrigued.

"Shh, just relax, little bitch. Take it easy," Joe cooed, his voice a low, sultry growl that reverberated through Kieran's body like a tuning fork. His hand, firm and warm, cradled the back of Kieran's head, guiding him with a gentle yet unyielding pressure.

Kieran's heart hammered in his chest, an erratic tempo that echoed his mounting fear and excitement. His mouth opened wider to accommodate Joe, the taste of him flooding his senses. It was a hint of saltiness, a touch of musk, and an essence that was uniquely Joe. His tongue explored the velvety texture, a stark contrast to the hard length it veiled. The heat radiating from Joe was intoxicating, consuming him in a wave of desire he had never known.

The sound of Joe's pleasure, low rumbled moans, filled the room, bouncing off the bare walls in a symphony of indulgence. The grip in Kieran's hair tightened, the sweet sting sending a jolt of arousal straight to his core. His own desire was a relentless throb, a constant reminder of the carnal act they were engaged in. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions - embarrassment, confusion, but also an odd sense of rightness.

Joe watched Kieran, his eyes half-lidded and clouded with pleasure. His chest rose and fell with each panting breath, the sight of Kieran on his knees before him sending a thrill of dominance coursing through his veins. He wanted to see more, feel more. The sight of his dick disappearing into Kieran's mouth was a sight to behold, a sight that would be forever etched in his memory.

As Joe's hips began to roll, Kieran found himself surrendering to the rhythm, his mouth moving in sync with Joe's. The primal dance was a language of its own, and Kieran was a pupil eager to learn. The taste, the feel, the sounds - it was a sensory overload that was both overwhelming and exhilarating. The room spun around him, but Kieran didn't care. He was lost in the moment, lost in that fat veiny cock in his mouth.

"Good boy," Joe murmured, his voice husky with arousal. The praise sent a shiver of delight down Kieran's spine, emboldening him to take more, to give more.

Joe's groans of pleasure filled the room, drowning out the incessant beeping of the forgotten game. His hands found their way to Kieran's head, guiding and controlling the rhythm. Kieran was a willing participant, allowing Joe to have his way. The power dynamic had shifted, and Joe was reveling in it.

"Mmm, you're doing good, Kieran," Joe praised, his words sending a thrill down Kieran's spine. "How does it feel?"

The question left Kieran stunned. How could he possibly put into words the whirlwind of emotions he was experiencing? The taste, the texture, the feeling of being dominated, it was all too overwhelming. And yet, there was a strange sense of pleasure in it all. A feeling that was both foreign and exciting.

"It's... different," Kieran admitted, his voice muffled by Joe's cock. He was too far gone to feel embarrassed, lost in the pleasure of the intimate act.

Joe's laughter filled the room, a sound that was both teasing and arousing. "Different, huh?" he drawled out, his voice a dark rumble that vibrated down Kieran's spine. "I bet it is."

Joe's grip tightened in Kieran's hair, and he tilted his head back, forcing Kieran to look up at him. His eyes were dark, filled with a lust that made Kieran's heart pound. Joe's other hand moved lower, tracing a path down Kieran's spine and settling on his ass, fingers pressing into the soft flesh.

A gasp escaped Kieran's mouth as Joe's fingers found his entrance, pressing and probing in a way that made him squirm. It was a new sensation, one that was foreign and yet oddly enticing. It made him feel vulnerable, exposed, and yet, there was a thrill in that too.

"Isn't this enough?" Kieran asked, his voice shaky.

Joe only grinned down at him, his fingers pressing deeper. "Oh, we're just getting started."

Kieran whimpered, his body reacting in ways he couldn't understand. He was hard, so hard that it hurt, and the feeling of Joe inside him, dominating him, was driving him crazy. He could feel his climax building, an intense pressure that was ready to burst.

Joe's fingers, now slick with spit, returned to Kieran's entrance. They circled the tight ring of muscles, pressing gently but insistently. Kieran's body tensed, a gasp escaping him as one finger slipped inside. The sensation was strange, uncomfortable, yet not entirely unwelcome.

"Relax, Kieran," Joe murmured, his voice a low purr of command. "You're so tight."

Kieran's cheeks flushed a deep crimson at the crude words, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he took a deep breath and tried to relax, to allow Joe's finger to delve deeper. It was a strange sensation, one that was difficult to describe. It was a mixture of pain, pleasure, and a sense of fullness that was foreign yet not entirely unpleasant.

Joe watched Kieran with a predatory glint in his eyes, taking in his flushed cheeks, his wide, watery eyes, and the way his lips stretched around his cock. He groaned, the sight too much for him to handle. He added a second finger, stretching Kieran further. Kieran's eyes went wide, a choked whimper escaping him.

"Take it, Kieran," Joe growled, his voice filled with a dark, twisted pleasure. "Take my fingers like the good bitch you are."

Kieran whimpered at the words, the degradation making him feel small, insignificant. And yet, there was a part of him, a small, dark part of him that reveled in the humiliation. He was hard, painfully so, and the sensation of Joe's fingers thrusting in and out of him only added to his arousal.

Joe continued his assault, his fingers twisting and turning, seeking out that sweet spot that would send Kieran over the edge. His cock throbbed in Kieran's mouth, a constant reminder of the power he held over the other man. The room was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing, the slick sounds of Joe's fingers moving in and out of Kieran, and the muffled moans that escaped Kieran's throat.

"Feel good, Kieran?" Joe asked, his voice a low, teasing drawl. "You like getting fucked like this? You like being my little slut?"

Kieran's cheeks burned at the words, but he didn't deny them. Instead, he nodded, his eyes meeting Joe's in a silent plea. He was on the brink, teetering on the edge of a precipice that seemed both terrifying and exciting. He wanted to fall, to give in to the pleasure, but he knew he had to hold back. Joe wouldn't let him climax yet. He had to wait, to endure, to submit.

Joe's fingers picked up their pace, thrusting faster, harder. Kieran's body jerked in response, his mouth opening wider to take in more of Joe's length. His own cock throbbed with a desperate need for release, but he held back, focusing on the sensations Joe was eliciting from him.

"That's it, Kieran. Take it," Joe growled, his voice thick with arousal. "You're doing so good, so fucking good."

Kieran whimpered, his body trembling with the effort of holding back his climax. He was so close, so dangerously close. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. Not yet. He had to wait.

Joe slowly withdrew his fingers from Kieran, leaving him feeling empty and wanting. Joe's cock throbbed in Kieran's mouth, a constant reminder of the bet he made. He watched as Joe moved back, his cock sliding out of Kieran's mouth with a wet pop. The sight made Kieran's cheeks flush with embarrassment, but there was a part of him, a small, dark part of him that craved more.