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The Swim Destruction - Part II

by Merlin

The Swim Destruction – Part II

After defeating Kevin in the swim race, Ming ran back to his apartment to complete preparations for the next phase of Kevin’s destruction. So much to do, so little time, Ming thought to himself.

Deep down, however, Ming was ambivalent regarding his prior usage of the powerful elixir on Kevin. For the first time in his relatively short life, Ming seemingly had some degree of power and control over another individual. This, of course, was something Ming neither expected nor anticipated; it was foisted upon him by the merciless mistreatment to which he had been so wantonly subjugated. While the elixir clearly worked, Ming weighed whether his overall plan of destruction was necesssary, reasonable and proper; was it, more precisely, a proportionate response to the mental abuse to which he had repeatedly suffered at Kevin’s hands.

“Fuck proportionate,” Ming concluded, “the champ is going down for the count.”

Upon entering his apartment, Ming quickly grabbed the book of elixirs and carefully studied the table of contents. “Hmmm,” Ming uttered in a reflective voice, “what should I do next.”

Meanwhile, back at the swimming pool, Kevin repeatedly replayed his run-in with Ming countless times. The previously undefeated champion simply could not fathom how he could have lost the race – especially to Ming of all people. More importantly, why had he gotten so tired and cramped? This had never happened to Kevin before. Skin and bones can’t beat muscle, he thought, especially the power of a championship buffed muscle body such as his own.

Mired in defeats daze, Kevin tried desperately to keep it together. The champ hit the locker room to take a hot shower and clear his mind. Upon reaching his locker, Kevin removed the speedo; wrapped a green bath towel around his waist; and headed toward the shower stalls.

Stopping in front of a wall mirror, Kevin examined his hard-body physique. He flexed his washboard abs, chest and biceps, revealing the full glory of his perfect hard body.

“Fuck’n yeah,” the champ muttered forgetting about the bet. “So, I was tired…that’s it…no…I …I…I let the little freak win…that’s it…No fuckn’ way can that pygmy freak beat me…I’m the champ,” Kevin mumbled, flexing his shoulder muscles for added emphasis.

“I let him win…since…fuck…I’m a nice guy,” Kevin observed. “I’ll still get some hot pussy-action tonite,” Kevin concluded. The thought of pussy caused Kevin’s eight inch pussy-stabber to twitch beneath the protection of the soft bath towel.

Still in front of the mirror, Kevin struck a double bicep pose; tightened his rippling eight pack; unwittingly causing the bath towel wrapped around the champ’s narrow waist to fall to the ground. The champ muttered, “Fuck yeah,” releasing one of his biceps; letting his hand drop down to his dangling but still flaccid pussy-stabber; the champ gently grabbed it in his hand and starting rubbing softly, causing the pussy-stabber to quickly rage to its full length.

Unknown to Kevin, Federico was watching Kevin’s posing routine from behind the lockerroom equipment shelf.

Federico, at age 20, was the lockerroom towel boy. Standing 6’1, Federico weighed approximately 105 pounds. Federico had been unceremoniously dubbed “The Rail” by Kevin and other members of the swim team due to, you guessed it, Federico’s low body weight and disproportionate height.

Federico was a sophomore at the university and took the towel boy job to earn some extra cash. As a fringe benefit, of course, such position allowed Federico to watch the hot swim team members shower and change. Federico particularly loved Kevin the most; his amazing hot muscle body combined with his arrogant personality; Kevin was routinely the subject of many of Federico’s most private body-worship fantasies.

Stunned by Kevin losing his towel mid-pose and fondling his man meat, Federico dropped the can Pepsi from which he was drinking, causing the bottle to crash to the ground; spraying its contents everywhere.

Federico had just observed the ultimate of his fantasies come true; Kevin’s naked muscle body striking a magnficent pose while jerking his hot eight inch cock; the unvarnished beauty of the swim champ’s powerful, hot, and tanned muscle body free from the encasement of either speedo or towel; all parts of the buff champion so clearly and vividly displayed for Federico gazing eyes.

Hearing Federico’s mishap, Kevin quickly turned and observed Federico gawking at his naked muscle body; the can of Pepsi rolling under the counter in a puddle of itself.

“You like what you see, fuckn’ faggot,” Kevin scolded, releasing his grip on the rock hard pussy-stabber..

Nervously, Federico stuttered, “Umm…I..ah…I was just getting a towel…and...”

“Fuck you asshole” Kevin hammered, picking up his lost towel and heading into the shower stall.

Federico quickly found his astray soda can and ran out of the lockeroom, dashing home to replay what he had just observed in a new jack-off fantasy. “Fuck,” Federico sighed, “the champ has one hot body…his abs, chest, legs, and…wow..his fuckn cock and balls…one word…amazing. Fuck, Yeah!”

After showering and changing, Kevin hopped into his black Porsche and headed back to the frat house to get some rest. Thoughts of pussy were quickly cast aside as Kevin suddenly remembered the earlier bet with Ming. “Fuck,” Kevin stammered, “Fuck..Fuck..Fuck!”

The thought of being spanked by Ming blazed through Kevin’s mind. Kevin debated whether or not he would show; but something in the back of his mind kept telling him that he was a champion, and champions don’t welsh on bets.

At exactly 7:00 p.m., Ming heard a knock on his apartment door. As expected, Kevin arrived promptly and was a genuine site to behold. Dressed in black tear-away adidas track pants and a tight red fitted tank-top, it was for little wonder Kevin was easily the hottest guy on the university campus. The tank-top fitted Kevin’s bulging chest muscles as a second skin and accentuated the champ’s peaked biceps. The ripples of Kevin’s eight pack midsection were still very pronounced notwithstanding the fabric in which they were engulfed. Underneath the fabric of the tank-top and track pants stood one very hard, hot, and buff muscle body.

“I’m glad you’re on time,” Ming mentioned, inviting Kevin inside. “I was concerned that you wouldn’t show” Ming feigned as he sat down on a black vinyl sofa in the living room.

Looking up, Ming observed that Kevin had a look of sheer disbelief and denial on his face. Ming cracked a modest smile while signaling with his hand for the champ to approach the sofa.

For his part, even though he was physically there, Kevin still could’nt believe he was standing in Ming’s apartment about to be spanked. Nevertheless, Kevin was for some inexplicable reason resigned to his fate Indeed, in a hurry to get over with payment on the bet, Kevin muttered, “Pygmy…I’m getting some hot pussy-action in a bit…so…let’s just get this over with…OK?”

“Well, if you insist” Ming mentioned, “we should certainly get on with the show.”

With a rapid hand-movement which caught Kevin completely off-guard, Ming grabbed at the champ’s track pants, quickly tearing them away from Kevin lower body; revealing the taught muscular legs of the swim champion.

Ming’s boney hand touched the front of Kevin’s rock-hard thigh and mentioned, “Wow…champ…you must do lot’s of squats.”

Kevin’s surprise at having his track pants ripped away from him was further compounded by Ming’s probing hand. Kevin fecklessly stuttered, “Yeah,” while taking a small step backward to avoid Ming’s unwanted touch.

Ming approvingly observed the hot champ was wearing the blue speedo as previously instructed. The speedo clumsily hid Kevin’s bulging pussy-stabber and oversize ball sack while perfectly fitting the champ’s muscular glutes.

“Ok.” Ming mentioned, “now lay down across my lap.” With some hesitation, Kevin got across Ming’s knees and rested his arms and head face down on the sofa as instructed.

Ming felt the muscle striations in Kevin’s lats and back. Ming was very impressed by the champ’s powerful muscle body. Kevin was certainly one ripped stud; his body was phenomenal. Ming gently slipped his boney left hand under Kevin’s mid-section and grabbed hold of the tight red tank-top. In doing so, Ming felt up Kevin’s rockhard eight pack.

“Wow” Ming thought, “I could do laundry on this stud’s abs.” Moving quickly, Ming started to pull the tank top off Kevin’s body.

Sensing what was happening, Kevin resisted, objecting “pygmy…no..no…tank top stays on…”

Ming interjected, “Champ…you lost the bet…tank top comes off.” With that, Ming pulled the top over Kevin’s head without any resistance, leaving Kevin bare except for the tiny blue speedo. “After all,” Ming laughed “swimmers don’t swim with tank tops.”

Ming mentioned to Kevin that when young children are spanked, they usually get scared and start sucking their thumbs or wet themselves. Ming asked Kevin if he had ever been spanked before. Kevin meekly indicated that he hadn’t ever; not even when he was little. Ming wondered aloud, “I wonder which kind you are…a thumb sucker or a pants wetter.”

Kevin was confident he was neither. Moreover, Kevin quickly concluded that Ming was truly a fruitcake. There was no way he was going to start sucking his thumb or piss on himself. Ming was the little wimp; Ming was the pygmy; Ming had no muscle. On the contrary, Kevin was the ripped muscle stud; Kevin was the champion.

While laying across Ming’s lap, Kevin was certain that Ming’s so-called “spanking” would amount to nothing. Afterall, unlike Kevin, Ming was so small and thin; how could this hurt, Kevin surmised.

“Yeah..I think you’re still a thumbsucker.” Ming predicted. With that, Ming took his first swipe at Kevin’s muscular ass with his boney outstretched hand.

Whack!

A surge a fear ripped through the muscle stud’s mind. Kevin couldn’t understand why he was suddenly so scared; he just was. Ming was so much stronger than he looked, Kevin mistakenly concluded. “Fuck, no..no.” Kevin yelped.

Whack! Whack! Kevin grunted in response. “Fuck,” Kevin howled.

Suddenly, Kevin uncontrollably started to lift his right hand towards his mouth. The dazed swim champ stammered “no…no…no” but it was too late, the defeated champ inserted his thumb into his mouth and started sucking ferociously. Kevin’s mind was blown; he wasn’t a thumbsucker; he was the BMOC.

“I knew it,” Ming roared with glee, “you’re still a thumb-sucker.”

Kevin couldn’t believe he was laying across Ming’s lap sucking on his thumb while getting spanked. “Fuck” the muscle stud asked himself.. “what the fuck am I doing? This isn’t fuck’n happening.”

Unexpectedly, Ming quickly pealed down Kevin’s speedo, revealing Kevin’s unprotected muscular ass. Kevin was to busy sucking away on his thumb to put up any meaningful resistance. By the time Kevin noticed what Ming was doing, it was over; the speedo slipped off Kevin’s feet and he was naked across Ming’s lap; his ass raised up slightly; his powerful pussy-stabber and ball sack hanging freely between Ming’s two boney chicken legs.

Ming observed and gently squeezed the champ’s naked ass. “Wow,” Ming thought, “this stud’s ass is rock hard muscle.”

Ming further observed the legendary Kevin Marsh pussy-stabber. It was very large even though flaccid. Ming gently lifted Kevin’s ball sack and squeezed the champ’s pussy-stabber. Feeling Ming’s unwanted hand on his pussy-stabber, Kevin repositioned his legs in a hapless effort to escape from Ming’s lap and ultimately block Ming’s probing hand. Just as Kevin was about to roll from Ming’s lap, Ming instructed Kevin to be still.

“What the fuck…” the champ exclaimed. For some reason, Kevin couldn’t lift himself from Ming’s lap and the champ remained in place and exposed.

Ming casually mentioned that he was just repositioning Kevin’s man meat so the spanking could continue uninterrupted. “After all, champ,” Ming mentioned, “we don’t want any harm to come to the pussy-stabber now.”

“Besides” Ming callously mocked, “how big is it?…it doesn’t look so big.”

Hearing Ming’s taunt, Kevin blurted, “Fuck you…it’s fuckn eight inches…probably at least twice as big as yours…faggot. You are such a fuck’n”

Whack! Whack! Kevin’s thumb immediately returned to his mouth interrupting his diatribe.

Whack!

As if the thumbsucking wasn’t bad enough, Kevin felt a dribble of liquid coming out of his still flaccid pussy-stabber.

Whack!

“No..fuck…no” Kevin yelped as he proceeded to stream clear piss on to Ming’s lap.

Thinking fast, Ming quickly grabbed a nearby large yellow bath towel and soaked up the piss as it trickled from the dejected muscle stud.

Ming roared with laughter, “Wow..i knew it…the champ is a thumbsucker and a pants wetter… ha ha ha…”

Kevin buried his head into the sofa in disgust. This couldn’t be happening. He was a buff champion not a thumbsucker and pants wetter.

Ming continued to taunt Kevin, “champ from know on instead of Kevin…maybe I’ll just call you Kevie…since you are such a weakling.”

Ming’s words raced through Kevin’s mind. Kevin was a buff hot shot. He had always been one since high school. Being called a weakling by Ming turned Kevin’s mind on fire. Kevin tried in vain to resist Ming’s dilatory suggestions, but the elixir was just too strong.

“Fuck” Kevin sobbed… “I’m not kevie…no..i’m not a weakling…I’m a man…no…I’m kevie..wait..kevin…fuck…no.”

Ming interjected, “Pathetic…the hot shot is just a wimp…ha ha ha.”

In response to Ming’s taunts, Kevin flexed his chest, biceps, and abs, clearly showing Ming the bulging muscle striations of his body in an effort to demonstrate to Ming once and for all that the champ wasn’t a wimp. Kevin managed to flip himself over so that he was was kneeling upright on the vinyl sofa and quickly did a double bicep pose, demonstrating the exceptional power peaks of the champ’s biceps and showing off his brawny muscle packed chest.

Ming placed his hands on the champ’s biceps, feeling the overwhelming intensity of the muscle power contained within. Kevin whooped, “See this pygmy…I’m not fuck’n weak boy…I’m a man.”

Ming soon realized that Kevin was somehow successfully resisting some of his suggestions, contrary to his earlier expectations with regard to the exilir’s power. “This stud is confident and arrogant,” Ming thought “I’ll have to change my approach, adapt and improvise.”

Thinking fast, Ming instructed the muscle stud to lay down on his lap again, after all, a bet was a bet, and Ming had not finished the spanking. Kevin contritely complied.

Whack! Kevin’s thumb returned to his mouth. Ming was intoxicated with the thoughts of his impending victory over the champ.

“You know what, hot shot,” Ming observed, “I bet you like this. In fact, I bet that you shoot your spunk.”

Kevin repulsed in disgust. He wasn’t into cock action. He hated the gawking fags that often cheered for him during swim meets. The earlier encounter with Federico flashed into Kevin’s mind, further confirming his revulsion at Ming’s suggestion.

Whack!

The champ finally managed to pull his thumb out of his mouth and roared, “No fuckn’ way…I’m not a fag…No way, I’m not shooting my load. Fuck no!” Kevin had always been in firm control of his pussy-stabber. He prided himself on being able to come at will; and hold back until the exact moment he was ready – even with the hottest sorority chicks.

“No way!” Kevin confirmed to himself would he ever shoot his stud-spunk as a result of Ming’s spanking.

Whack!

As soon as Ming’s hand hit the flesh of Kevin’s bare muscle ass, Kevin’s thumb promptly returned to his mouth. Ming started to laugh. “Hey champ, ha ha…keep sucking your thumb…like the weak little boy you are.”

Ming’s taunts continued to explode in Kevin’s mind.

Whack! Whack! Kevin started sucking his thumb harder. Of more concern, the champ’s legendary eight inch pussy-stabber started pulsing. Ming felt the champ’s sword poking at his leg. At first, it wasn’t much…but then…

Whack! The champ’s pussy-stabber started twitching violently and growing rapidly.

Whack!

Kevin realized his pussy-stabber was springing; he tried to ignore the throbbing to no avail. “Just stay focused” Kevin instructed himself… “this is almost over. Stay focused.”

Whack! Kevin’s pussy-stabber began to rage crimson; becoming a rockhard full eight inches almost instantaneously.

Kevin’s mind was spinning. His pussy-stabber was out of control. Kevin pulled the thumb from his mouth; “No way…fuck no…” Kevin flailed, quickly returning the thumb to his mouth.

“Yeah, I knew it, champ, a thumb sucker, pants wetter..and, to top it all off, no control over your tiny boy-cock. Ha ha ha…pathetic,” Ming laughed while placing his boney hand around Kevin’s throbbing pussy-stabber.

Kevin’s pussy-stabber started to pulse more rapidly; he felt his balls pull tight; Kevin knew he was losing control. The champ shifted his legs in a bungling and desperate effort to exert some discipline over his previously obedient, but now mindless and hard-raging, pussy-stabber.

“Stop…no…no…,” Kevin begged.

Whack! Whack!

“That’s right, champ, keep sucking your thumb and shoot your juice,” Ming instructed.

Kevin tried his best to hold back; it was finally just to much for him to contain; the buff champion was way over the edge; his balls were ready to explode; it was lost. “Fuck…no…no..fuckn’ no…”, the buff champ moaned in the agony of pleasure, splaying globs of hot man juice all over his chest, Ming’s lap and sofa.

Kevin was in a defeats daze for the second time today, first the swim race, now this. He couldn’t believe he had just shot his muscle spunk as Ming had predicted.

Kevin turned on his back, resting his head on the sofa’s arm; his ass still propped up on Ming’s legs. With the champ far to exhausted to resist, Ming carefully rubbed his left hand on the champ’s washboard abs; tweaking them; rubbing the defeated champ’s man juice into the ripped crevices of the defined midsection. Not finished, Ming roughly fondled Kevin’s still hard 8 inch pussy-stabber and mentioned, “I think a little boy like you…who has no self-control, shouldn’t have such a large cock.” Ming smiled at the defeated champ and started to laugh at the cum covered champion.

Ming grabbed at the white towel which he had prepared earlier and placed underneath the sofa. The towel was laced with a small quanity of an ancient Chinese rubbing compounded called Xemish. Like the earlier elixir recipe, this dry elixir was prepared from herbs and ordinary household items. It was absolutely odorless and looked and felt like talcum powder.

Ming handed the towel to the defeated champ and instructed that he wipe down his man juice creamed pussy-stabber. Overwhelmed, Kevin mindlessly proceeded to clean off his still rock-hard pussy-stabber, unknowingly rubbing the powdery elixir into his most sensitive skin.

Kevin immediately started to feel an unusual tingling sensation on his pussy-stabber. He continued to brush himself with the towel, trying to get all the man-juice off of his ball sack, and stop the tingling, the source of which remained a mystery.

Almost instantaneously, the champ’s pussy-stabber started to shrink rapidly beneath the towel. At first, Kevin didn’t notice, he thought he was just returning to a more flaccid state in light of the huge quanity of muscle-spunk that he had just spilled.

Unknown to the champ, even though he was still rock hard, the elixir had reduced his pussy-stabber to about 4 inches in length. Kevin put the towel on the floor, fully revealing his shrunken pussy-stabber.

Ming started laughing uncontrollably at the site of Kevin’s miniaturized pussy-stabber. Kevin mocked, “Champ…is that the legendary pussy-stabber? I’ve seen five year old’s with a bigger equipment. Ha ha ha.”

Kevin looked down at his once glorious man package and was stunned in disbelief. “What the fuck” Kevin blurted… “My fuckn’ pussy-stabber…No..no..no.. What the fuck…no..no.”

To Be Continued…

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