The Gym Janitor Ch. 03

Story Info
The Janitor becomes a human barbell and gives a tongue bath.
2.4k words
4.63
8.5k
8

Part 3 of the 6 part series

Updated 06/11/2023
Created 06/23/2022
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*NOTICE* Everyone in this story is above the age of 18. Never participate in foreplay of this sort without any formal consent of any parties involved. Language used may be offensive.

***

I arrived to work the next evening contemplating on actually not going in.

Sitting in my car I realized, nothing is going to be the same. Nothing.

If I walk in there, I'll just be reminded of it all.

Cause what the fuck happened last night?

First off, the usual was me gawking at the muscular daddy during his workout.

Then, me stuffing his oh so tasty jockstrap down the depths of my mouth.

Leaving him to catch me in the act and doing it himself?

"See you around, faggot."

The phrase rang in my ear during the day, even in my sleep.

'See you around.'

I see him then what? What will he do?

Tell Kyle? Call the cops? What exactly did he mean?

I was eager to know but too afraid to actually find out.

***

The front desk clerk often just clocks in and goes back to her car to sleep since no one besides him ever really comes in. Regulars get the privilege of not having to strictly check in.

Like yesterday, not much cleaning besides ass stains left on certain machines and very few plates laying around.

I look over to the dumbbell area and reminisce of his smirk.

That's damned smirk.

A little tweak on his devious smile that exuded alpha, as if in he knew why I was so starstruck.

He did, in all fairness. My question was, why would he further feed into my creepy intentions? Cause let's be honest, what I did rummaging through his belongings was perverted as hell and he could easily call the police and file for sexual harassment or something but no.

He shoved his crotch-scented jockstrap further down my throat...

Since she's in her car I often just lounge around the front desk, making an accordion out of sticky notes, play snake on the computer, or just take a nap as well.

Today I just felt very philosophical in a sense. Last night's encounter changed my perspective on...well me.

Why the fuck did I let him degrade me like that? And why the hell did I enjoy it so fucking much?

I grabbed a sticky note and wrote:

What would life be if submission didn't feel so instinctive? I got degraded by a muscle god in the most disrespectful way and I liked it...?

What am I to do if he'd take more control of me? Am I just another faggot of his? Or am I of upmost importance that he'd reuse me?

Somewhat of a poet when life brings no meaning. Except that's what I'm questioning.

Meaning.

The wondering is what aches me. The lingering question of whether that is my purpose, eat, shit, work, sleep, repeat. Or if my purpose was to enhance the life of someone far superior than I am?

My epiphany gets cut off as the front doors open.

All of a sudden, life went slow motion. Think of the shorty shot of the lifeguards in Baywatch but slow motion, only this was dirt in comparison.

From the floor up, I gazed as I took in the massive frame of the man who vulgarized me.

He walks in with his gym bag strapped over his shoulders and chewing gum.

"Hello," I quaked,"welcome. Just sign in a-and go r-right ahead."

FUCK. Why was I shaking? Stand your ground. Your legs may turn to jelly when you're near him but don't give him that much control.

"Oh what,"he smirked,"you don't recognize me?"

"I'm sorry?"I asked.

"Don't act hard to get you runt," he affirmed.

I simply looked down at the computer keyboard. Why was I so turned on right now?

"Now,"he begun,"where's that little miss priss that's usually here?"

"In her car, napping."

"Excellent," a devious smile formed on his face.

"Now,"he continued," I'm assuming since you aren't tidying up the place you have some free time?"

Before I said a word he stuck his hand out in motion to cut me off.

"Never mind that, get up."

I followed him over to the dumbbell area, the same place as yesterday. He turns and hands me his gym bag.

"Hold this."

He dropped the bag on my held out arms and turned around to adjust the seat on the bench to an inclined angle.

Him leaning over caused a plump on the back of his shorts. Fuck his ass was plump, firm, round. You can easily tell he does not skip leg day.

"Go fetch me a towel rag, boy."

'Boy.' What the hell? I know he's more mature than me but as far as me being such a low for him I would not drag me to being deemed as such a fragile person.

Regardless, I did not want to get on his bad side. One punch would send me flying to next week I fear.

I "fetched him the towel" then he placed it on the seat of the bench.

He went to grab a set of 65s from the rack.

Woah. Incline 65?

"Grab my lock combination and take my bag to the same locker as last night," he said,"DON'T go through my shit, I'm giving you thirty seconds, if you're not back by then you'll see."

I pace rapidly to the locker room which wasn't too far. The same locker as last night, how could I forget.

I grabbed the already lock combination and opened the locker. Jammed. SHIT. I yanked as hard as I could until it finally budged and I tensely place the gym bag in and managed to click the lock combination closed.

I RAN back out there and headed towards the dumbbell area.

"THREE...Two...one," he barked.

Fuck.

"Oh,"he said sarcastically," you JUST missed it."

I was panting, man I'm out of shape.

"Get on the ground now, runt, facing down."

I did so.

In anticipation, he lifted the pair of dumbbells from his sides and placed them flat on my back.

FUCK. HOLY SHIT. I CAN'T BREATHE.

He leaned forward to meet eye to eye.

"Here's what e gonna happen alright you cunt,"he ordered," anytime you disobey me I'll have you do far more humiliating shit than this and last night combined, is that understood?"

I nodded.

"IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?"

"Yes sir."

"Good,"he smiled.

He began hawking then he spat on my face.

He then grabbed the weights, leaned back, and began pumping his biceps.

I gasped for air and managed to get less light headed enough to fully see. I look up and behold the sight of his bulging biceps getting meatier and redder with each rep. Slowly, the skin surrounding his muscle began glistening.

"Yeah I see you staring,"he said,"you like that fucking view?"

I nodded.

"Say it."

"I like the view."

"Why do you like the view what's so great about it?"

"Your body,"I said.

"What about my body?"

"Your biceps, they're...getting bigger, like a football."

"What else, faggot."

"Your chest, it's nice and firm."

"Oh this?"he began to bounce his chest as he set the weights down on my back again.

"You like that shit?" He smiled.

"Yes sir, very much!"

"Get up,"he ordered.

He grabbed the weights and I immediately stood at attention.

"Take these back to where they were and grab me the 80s."

I did so.

I paced back nearly passing out in carrying these dumbbells. I grab the 80s one on each hand.

DAMN. My arms feel like they're about to fall out of their sockets because these shots are heavy as hell.

"Yeah you're struggling huh,"he chuckles,"look at this."

He grabbed the 80s off me and began to do hammer curls with ease at a steady pace.

Each rep he looked at his biceps and grunted.

Mesmerized by his pump, I stood there eyeing his biceps.

"You see that,"he gestured to his left bicep as he kept pumping,"it's getting bigger huh?"

I nodded.

"Go ahead,"he kept pumping,"feel that shit."

My jaw quivered. My legs started moving on their own, almost as if I was in a state of hypnosis. My arms levitated forward, reaching out for his bicep.

Then. Skin to skin.

Holy shit.

"Hell yeah boy!"

I cupped the football sized arms with both hands and felt hit firm skin growing against the palm of my hands.

He set the dumbbells down and my hands remained on his bicep.

"Watch this,"he said. He removed my hands from his bicep and rose his arm up to my face and began to bounce his bicep.

"Wow,"I whispered.

"Damn right wow,"he said,"isn't that shit beautiful?"

"Yes sir."

"Not many can do that."

I didn't move my hands to touch it even though I deeply wanted to, I awaited for his approval.

"You wanna taste it faggot?"

Oh goodness...

"Yes,"I pleaded.

"We'll have room for that later,"he said,"grab my phone for me faggot."

I reach for his cellphone that's on the floor.

"I want you to record this next workout and tell me how beautiful I am, got it?"

"Yes sir!"

He reached around the inclined bench and took on of the dumbbells with him.

I held up the phone horizontally as he was checking his form through the mirror, I assume he was about to make concentrated curls.

"Start recording,"he barked.

I did so.

"Get closer to my bicep."

I made sure to not block the lighting because as he slowly concentrated his curl, the vein on the side of his bicep began bulging, almost appearing like it's about to bust...just like my cock in watching this all happen.

"How great does that shit look?"

"Amazing sir!"

"You like how much my shit is growing faggot?"

"Yes, very much sir?"

"You like me getting nice and pumped and riled up for ya?"

"Fuck yes sir!"

"And are these the biggest biceps you have ever laid eyes on bitch?"

"Yes sir, no other biceps that I see in this gym let alone in my life have ever amounted to the grandeur of your muscle."

"Atta boy,"he smirked,"you crave to suck on them don't you?"

"With everything in me sir!"

"And you crave to please your alpha?"

"Absolutely sir!"

"Atta boy, why don't you go ahead and give my bicep a nice slap?"

I carefully made sure the camera captured my tiny hand slapping the mountain of a muscle this man carried on his arm.

"Again."

I slapped.

"Again."

I slapped.

"Again, harder!"

I slapped with everything in me.

"Graagh!"he exclaimed,"atta boy, that shit feels good don't it!"

"Yes sir,"I beamed.

"Stop recording faggot."

I did so.

"Now, put the phone down and follow me here,"he nodded to the pull up bars.

We walked over a few feet behind us where the joint cable rows and pull up area was.

"Stand right there,"he pointed right bellow the pull up bar.

"Now,"he continued,"what I'm gonna do for this last workout are supinated pull-ups, know what those are?"

"The one's that concentrate on your biceps?"

"Atta boy,"he laughed,"you know that from all that time you spend gazing at others don't you faggot?"

"Well,"I admitted laughing.

"Of course you do,"he continued,"now, I usually attach the weighted belt on me but since I knew I'd require assistance I left on my gym bag so, I'll use you as my extra weight for today."

He gave me a knowing look as if he knew I'd love this. A devious smile formed on his face that exuded pure alpha dominance.

"Now I'm gonna turn around,"he began," and what I want you to do is to jump on my back and wrap your legs around my waist, your arms carried under my pits then lick your hands locked at my shoulders, understood?"

"Yes sir."

"No funny business,"he commanded,"I catch you trying to fondle me and I'll let go of the bar and land my entire weight on you so fast you'll crack a rib, understood faggot?"

"Yes sir."

He stood facing away from me and I was facing his wide back.

"Get to it faggot!"

I climbed on top of him in one light jump and wrapped my legs around his waist, arms under his pits, hands locked behind his shoulders.

"We'll damn,"I said,"you'll do just fine for this weight."

As soon as I was set, he breathed in and jumped with his hands held high, and caught the bar.

Just like that, he began the pull ups.

With each pull I leaned my ear on his back, hearing his thundering heartbeat, feeling the heat of his body, made full by the loud roar of each of his grunts.

So much of this was turning me the fuck on. My crotch pressed against his ass working up and down assured my blood flow to head to the tip of my cock.

"You like that shit faggot?"he barked,"I can feel you getting hard!"

"Yes sir, this feels amazing!"

"Yeah? Look at my arms you see that?"

I look above me and holy shit! His biceps looked as if they tripled in size from the first workout. Each pull up only furthering the growth, droplets of sweat running down his shoulders.

"Lick my sweat bitch!"

I lathered up his shoulders with my tongue, catching drift of the sweat that was cascading down the mounds of muscle on his arm.

"Fuck yeah,"he grunted,"lick my shit."

I kept devouring the glorious sweat that sparked my addiction to him.

He landed on his feet as he finished.

"I'm not even gonna finish this,"he caught his breath,"get off me."

I landed behind him, he turned around.

"You got me all riled up boy,"he said as he grabbed the bulge in my pants,"and I see I'm having the same effect on you."

Gosh I felt like I was going to explode when he did that.

"How'd I taste?"he asked.

"Fucking delicious sir!"

"Yeah,"he rubbed his fingers over his armpit and brought them to my mouth,"open up!"

I let his gigantic calloused hand invade my mouth, dominating it. In one motion he slid his hand in and out.

"That's right,"he smiled,"take in all of my essence, all of my testosterone, all of my power, boy."

I began to suck on his fingers, i taking as much of his sweat as I could.

"Oh shit,"he laughed,"you're hungry for it aren't you boy?"

I nodded as I was busy sucking his hand.

"There's more where that came from,"he said with a cocky grin,"you want it?"

I nodded.

He pulled his hand out.

"Follow me."

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AnonymousAnonymousalmost 2 years ago

The muscle god is clearly into the man’s sexual adoration. His worship is turning the god on and he’s as into the homo shit as the janitor is.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 2 years ago

Well, it's obvious that both of these guys are getting off on the prospective dom/sub rolls. And clearly, I'm finding this hot, or I wouldn't be back here for chapter #3. But isn't funny how many times muscle head called the janitor faggot when he was the one acting so gay. Just another pumped up bully closet case. MLF

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