You didn’t think you would get away with meat gazing forever, did you? There were a lot of different possible outcomes; You could have been shouted at, reported to the gym management and banned, or even beaten up by one of the offended Alpha males who caught you. But somehow, you got away with it until that day. You did your minimal workouts, and spent double that time in the locker room and showers, tucking away images of muscular bodies and massive cocks in your mental spank bank. You would go home and suck or fuck one of your dildos while playing the stolen images back. But that day, you were trapped in a perfect storm that resulted in your becoming a captured slave.
He was an amalgamation of everything against which you were most helpless.
You’d seen plenty of muscular physiques you could imagine lending their strength to pounding your ass pussy. You’d seen plenty of big cocks you could imagine stuffing your holes. You had seen plenty of men who had that vibe of unconscious authority. But it was rare to see a man who had all three. It was a day and time when the place wasn’t too crowded, and the chances of being caught were the least. On that day, you’d been hanging around in the locker room, feeling more and more desperate for your fix as time went on. The slutty desperation is what made you drop your vigilance. You forgot yourself, slut, and the sexual universe conspired to make it such that on that day, he was in the market for a new cock whore.
Your destiny as a captured slave was sealed in the shower.
It was one of those open shower rooms, one of the reasons you chose that particular gym. You could pretend that you were just there to shower, like everyone else, while positioning yourself to get the best view of the most cock meat. You didn’t realize that he had you clocked, wasting time in your barely-sweated workout gear, as he walked past where you sat in front of your locker. His dark chocolate-colored body was athletic without being bulky, tall and ripped without being desiccated. The small white towel loosely gripped around his hips did little to conceal the mouth-watering package beneath it. When you heard the water hiss against the tiles, you ripped off your costume and scurried after him.
You’d never been picky about the race of the stud cocks about which you fantasized. As long as they were big, your fuck holes ached for them. But you couldn’t pretend that sex with big black cocks didn’t feature prominently in your fantasies. Maybe it was because when you spotted a truly impressive cock, it was most often attached to a black man, but you also loved the thought of your scrawny pale body contrasting with the skin of a rich brown Alpha, your vulnerable pink hole being stretched open wide around something thick and throbbing and dark. Like many white boy beta males, you watched football and basketball for far sluttier reasons than the scores, and maybe to a degree your white guilt over societal inequities made you long to provide pleasure and absorb punishment to atone for your unmerited privilege. All of these thoughts and motivations were consolidated into a singular longing as you turned the corner into the shower room.
His Alpha status included being smarter than you, fuck slut.
You wouldn’t know this until later in your tenure as a captured slave, but he knew exactly where to position himself so that in order to satisfy your meat gazing fix, you would have to be right next to him. You panicked a little bit when you first saw him at that corner shower head, the white suds running in rivulets down his broad brown back and muscular ass cheeks, your mind scrambling to think of a way you could get what you wanted so badly without revealing yourself. You startled when he looked over his shoulder briefly, and decided that you had to go somewhere, now that he’d seen you. Standing still would make you more suspect than just going to the nozzle next to him as if it were a normal thing to do. Of course, there was no universe in which that was normal, but your cock lust had already begun to make your brain fuzzy.
He glanced at you again with a bit of a sardonic half-grin as you took your place, and went back to washing himself slowly. You tried to mimic his casual, self-assured manner as you nodded at him, though you could feel the corners of your mouth quivering. Eyes on the tiles, you said to yourself. There will be plenty of time to take a look . . .
You’re going to have to stay tuned for part two of the tale of this captured slave, fuck sluts, even though I can see you drooling from here!