logo-mini

Oil wrestlers – conclusion

Gay erotica, massage, forced arousal, CBT

A teenager decides to make some money naked wrestling.

If you want to encourage me to write more stories like this, you can find my Patreon here

 

Oil wrestlers – conclusion

Petr continued to grind his groin against Franta’s until he could tell that the other boy was hard as stone, then, he finally gave up his position and allowed Franta out from underneath and moved away so that they could reset again. Franta looked at him with an expression between embarrassment, betrayal and annoyance.

They gripped each other’s shoulders ready to grapple again, but now Franta’s boner was so high, the head almost touched his belly. Petr looked down at it.

“Nice boner!” he said with grin again.

Franta didn’t need to look at himself to know how hard his dick was. He could feel his balls tight and his dick straining. His cheeks coloured.

“Ha ha,” he said with no humour in his voice.

Petr jiggled his eyebrows up and down in a playful gesture, smirking as he did so. Franta knew the boy had got him good.

“Nice boners,” Otik said, “score is nine three to Petr. Tell you what, let’s make it interesting. 5 points if you can make the other boy cum. 10 if you can make him cum twice. Automatic win for three times.”

Petr stared at him. This was getting a lot more sexual than he had expected. He didn’t exactly object: he knew that he should have requested a more detailed clarification of what they would be doing before they began. Now that the cameras were rolling, it was too late to complain. He was certain that Petr would never be able to make him cum in any case. But then, he would never have thought that he’d have gotten a boner wrestling with another boy either. Well, probably never. He admitted to himself that his dick had a mind of its own, but he still felt comfortable that Petr would be unlikely to even be able to HOLD his dick long enough to jack him off, much less make him cum…

 

Two minutes later, Franta lay on his side, his back to his opponent, his limbs entangled in Petr’s as the playful boy jacked his fiercely hard erection. Franta struggled like a dolphin caught in a net, but nothing he did could get him free. Petr seemed to somehow have too many arms, using the ground to trap one of Franta’s out of play, and then locking them both behind his back with a single arm. Even Petr’s legs were entangled around and between Franta’s.

Petr’s hard cock was pressed between the cheeks of Franta’s bottom, and he thrust his pelvis  forwards, forcing Franta’s hips out. With his free hand, Petr gripped his boner and pounded it mercilessly.

Franta quickly realised that he was wrong in his belief that another boy could not make him cum. The moment he felt Petr start pumping, he felt almost unbearably horny; just like he did when he happened upon a piece of new porn that pressed all his buttons.

There was absolutely nothing Franta could do to extricate his cock from Petr’s rapidly pumping fist. He didn’t want to be seen on video, made to cum so easily, milked like an eager cow, but this was what he had, albeit unwittingly, agreed to. He struggled as though his life depended upon his escape but that only made his balls churn more, and he didn’t think his dick could possibly GET any harder.

He growled with exertion and defiance, then the vocalisation changed into a primal grunt of ecstasy as his seed spattered onto the blue mat. He tried to hold it back; to stop it mid-squirt, but Petr’s fist would not be denied. He grinned as he forced the newcomer to give up his cream. He knew that Franta would likely be annoyed; disgusted even, that he had been made to cum; milked of his male juice. It was thick and sticky. It didn’t fly far; less than a foot before landing gloopily on the mat, but there was a lot of it.

Otik watched with satisfaction. Some boys came like they were pissing, others launched huge watery fountains 5 feet away in geyser-like eruptions. Others still, like Franta, came in thick, but extensive surges, repeatedly erupting like slow-moving lava, as though their balls wanted to drain themselves to empty husks with every pump.

He counted as Franta came; it was something he liked to do. There were seven, eight, NINE pumps of thick, white nut-jelly, and the boy was STILL going.

 

Petr was superb. He was an excellent wrestler, cute and playful, and the viewers loved him. That was why Otik had paid a lot of money to have him trained by a world-renowned expert in male stimulation. And the boy had learned well. He was a master. No boy could resist his skilful touch. It was simply a matter of how hard they would cum and how many times.

To the untrained eye, it looked as though he was simply jacking his opponent. Indeed, they would not even realise that they had been drained by a master. But there was so much more going on under Petr’s skilful fist. He applied pressure in just the right way, ensured that his victims’ foreskin was fully retracted, allowing his knuckles to rub against the sensitive fraenulum, simultaneously stroking with the pad of his thumb on the glans. And with each stroke, his fingers brushed against the rear of the corona, raising his partner’s arousal level to undeniable heights.

 

Franta rapidly lost the strength to keep struggling as Petr continued to draw the juice from his balls. His head span at the force and duration of his orgasm. He couldn’t believe he was coming so hard, and it felt like it was going on and on. Stars whirled in front of his eyes as he momentarily blacked out.

Franta could feel Petr’s small log sliding back and forth between the cheeks of his bottom, and he knew that his groin was thrust forwards, perfectly presented to the camera and the viewers.

Petr kept pumping his fist for a full minute before he finally released his opponent. Franta lay, shell-shocked for a few seconds before slowly looking down at the tarpaulin. There was a streaked puddle of jizz on the blue plastic, larger in diameter than a dinner plate.

Had that really come from him? It hardly seemed possible yet his pleasantly aching balls were evidence to the contrary.

He glanced up and Otik was smiling at him. Otik was happy with the performance. The boy was certainly not well hung, although Otik had a huge clientele who would appreciate his more compact dimensions, but the kid had cum like a porn star after 3 months of abstinence. Otik smiled and nodded in approval like Mr Miyagi after the finals.

“That’s five points to Petr.”

 

Franta didn’t know how to feel. This was not what he had signed up for, and he certainly felt a measure of embarrassment, but he also felt undeniably euphoric in the afterglow of such a monumental orgasm.

Petr rose to his knees.

He said, “Let’s go again.”

“Already?” Franta said in a voice thickened with exhaustion.

Petr grinned at him, and watched as Franta rose slowly to his knees.

“What about that?” Franta asked, gesturing towards the cum puddle. “Shouldn’t we clean it up first?”

“Nah, it’ll be hotter to leave it there. Just be careful not to lay in it,” Otik said.

 

Three minutes later, Franta was laying face-down on the puddle, his cheek pressed against it, with Petr on top. He was disgusted to the core. Yet as disgusted as he was, he couldn’t help but notice Petr’s penis sliding back and forth between his buttocks again. He was sure that the other boy was deliberately humping his ass-crack.

Petr lifted off him and then Franta felt the head of the boy’s cock pressed against his hole. There was steady pressure, then the slender penis was inside him. He felt the oiled dick sliding in, burying itself. Then he could feel Petr’s pubes and groin pressing against his bottom.

“Ahhh!” he yelled.

Petr started fucking him slowly.

“What’s up?” Petr asked, playing innocent.

“You’re fucking me. Your dick’s in my asshole.”

“My what?” Petr said delaying. “Oh my…” he exclaimed, as though suddenly realising. “Oops sorry.”

But still he didn’t remove his hard penis.

“Take it out, take it out!” Franta screamed at him in a muffled voice, his own cum on the mat caking his hair and the side of his face.

“Oh yeah,” Petr said again. “Sorry.”

Only after he had apologised the second time, did he remove his penis. Vasek’s camera caught everything in 4K detail.

Petr slipped his hard cock between Franta’s legs at the top of his thighs. His glans prodded at Franta’s swollen nuts.

Then suddenly, he pivoted 180 degrees, locking his legs underneath Franta’s torso, and continuing to prevent him from escaping. As Petr span, Franta at last managed to squirm a little, lifting his upper body so that his face was at least out of his own cum puddle. Now his chest lay on the sticky pool. The liquid was cool beneath him.

 

Petr jammed his elbows between Franta’s thighs, forcing them apart, then he reached beneath and between the boy’s legs and dragged Franta’s still-hard cock downwards. It did not like being pulled down when it was so hard, and Franta groaned in discomfort. His high-riding balls were displaced backwards and to either side by his cock, and his tight nut-sack was wrinkled into deep grooves across the back of his boner.

Petr started to stroke the back of Franta’s exposed glans, rubbing the two hemispheres and running the oily pad of his index finger across the fraenulum. Yet again, Franta was powerless to prevent his boner from being stroked. How the fuck did this guy know so much about dick stroking? His fingers were driving him crazy. Franta squirmed, desperate to remove his super-sensitive dick head away from Petr’s fingers, but with Petr’s full weight on him, and his dick pulled down between his legs, resting against the mat, he was helpless once again.

Petr rapidly started polished Franta’s glans with the tips of his middle three fingers, moving in rapid strokes from its coronal flare to its tip. Petr could see Franta’s nuts, trapped between his legs, starting to tighten. Franta redoubled his struggles, but to no avail. And then his cock was spitting again, almost as powerfully as the first time, despite its constrained position.

Franta couldn’t believe that Petr had made his balls cough up another load. He only managed to do the double on rare occasions himself, and then only when he’d gone a while without orgasm and he was feeling super horny.

He could feel another puddle spreading between his thighs. How could his balls be producing so much? Frantr was starting to feel like a horse, forced to empty its enormous balls whenever its owner demanded. Except his balls were NOT enormous, and they’d surely ALREADY been emptied?!

 

Petr continued stroking the ultra-sensitive back of his cock long after the spasms of Franta’s second orgasm had passed; long after it ceased to be pleasurable. Petr was keeping him hard, refusing to allow his cock to recover. The stroking became uncomfortable.

“Ahh ahh!” Franta moaned. “Petr no! No more please!”

Petr chuckled but continued stroking, taking a mischievous pleasure from his opponent’s genital discomfort. Franta had claimed to be straight, but Petr effortlessly forced him to give up his sperm.

“No STOP NOW!” Franta commanded, squirming beneath Petr.

But Petr was unimpressed by his tone. Franta was not calling the shots, nor could he prevent Petr from toying with him. He flicked each of Franta’s balls, hard enough to make the boy yelp, leaving him with a mild ache, but not hard enough to kill his boner. His balls tucked up tighter to the sides of his cock.

“Whaaaat was that Fran – ordering me about?” he said with mock seriousness. “I guess I need to remind you who’s in charge.”

He pushed a slippery finger into Franta’s bottom.

“Ahh fuck, Petr, what are you doing? Come on, play fair!” Franta whined.

“Haven’t you heard Fran, everything is fair in love and war!”

He massaged Franta’s prostate with his finger, and thick fluid leaked from the eye of Franta’s cock.

“Okay, okay, I get it Pete, you win!” Franta said, remembering that he had a way out.

He slapped the mat with his palm and Petr hesitated, considering whether or not to honour the surrender. Then he withdrew his middle finger from Franta’s bottom, wiped it on the cheeks, and climbed off him.

 

Franta rolled onto his back and, finally freed, his hard cock sprang back up, slapping off his belly. He looked at Petr with amazement, then down at the new puddle his balls had created, then down at his own chest. It was shiny with his own thick jizz.

Franta looked to Otik.

“Can I get a towel or something?”

“Sure. No problem.”

He threw Franta a small bar towel.

“That’s 24 to Petr. At this rate, you’re never going to catch up. Then you’ll have to pay the forfeit.”

“The forfeit? What forfeit?”

Otik grinned.

“I don’t know. We’ll think of something.”

Franta frowned. It sounded ominous.

“Oh, don’t look so nervous. I’ll just get you to suck his dick or something.”

“His… w… w…”

Franta’s lips moved soundlessly for a few seconds.

“I’m not sucking his dick.”

“Just for 30 seconds.”

Franta shook his head emphatically.

“Nope, not doing it.”

“Not for another 3k?”

Franta paused. It was a lot of money.

“How long for?”

“No longer than a minute.”

“And you’ll give me another 3000 korunas?”

“Sure. In fact, why don’t you just do it now, then we can get it out of the way.”

“You said if I lose?”

“Sure, but you don’t want to lose the money though right?”

Hesitantly, Franta said, “Noooo, I guess not.”

“Attaboy. Might as well get right to it then huh?”

Petr reclined on his elbows and spread his legs a little to give Franta space to get close. Franta turned and looked at him; Petr was grinning. Franta looked down at his dick; it was hard. He leaned forwards and took it reluctantly in his fist.

“30 seconds,” he said.

“A minute,” Otik countered.

Franta shot the man a dirty look, then he lowered his head towards Petr’s penis. Petr gripped his dick by the root and just as Franta was about to close his lips around it, he unsheathed the glans. Franta frowned.

“Always better without the skin,” Petr explained.

Franta swallowed then wrapped his lips around Petr’s glans. He started bobbing his head up and down.

“Mind your teeth,” Petr said.

Franta curled his lips over his teeth and continued.

“Use your tongue,” Otik said.

“Yeah!” Petr agreed.

 

This was way beyond Franta’s initial boundaries or expectations. He was not happy about it but he needed the money. He stopped bobbing his head and instead started licking Petr’s glans. He could taste mild saltiness and something else; something musty.

“Faster!” Petr said after a while.

Franta moved his head back and looked Otik.

“That’s got to be a minute?”

“Nope, just 30 seconds,” Otik lied.

Petr guided Franta’s head back to his dick.

“Bounce up and down AND use your tongue!”

Franta reluctantly complied. Suddenly he felt something hit the back of his mouth. He realised immediately that Petr was coming. Franta made to lift his head off Petr’s dick, but Petr grabbed the back of his head before he could escape, pumping his hips up and down, face fucking the teenager. Franta started struggling and spluttering as he felt Petr’s cum repeatedly hitting the back of his throat. And now Petr was jamming his penis all the way to the back of Franta’s throat, seeding his stomach directly, and denying him any chance to prevent the spunk from sliding down.

He struggled frantically, but Petr refused to let him free until he was done. 20 seconds of urgent thrusting was enough to empty his nuts. Then, finally, he released the back of Franta’s head. Franta pulled away, disgusted and angry. It felt like he had an entire mouthful of cum; a huge swig worth. He spat it out onto the mat.

Otik smiled. He knew that his customers would enjoy the boy’s response. There were so many porn sites with boys who acted out fake scenarios, but with a little planning, Otik was able to create far more realistic videos and his audience would appreciate Franta’s furious expression as a sign that this was not what he had agreed to.

Franta glowered at Petr but Petr grinned at him.

“You came in my mouth!” Franta snarled.

“Of course,” Franta replied matter-of-factly.

“You didn’t say you were going to do that!” Franta said still spitting Petr’s cum onto the mat.

“Dude, it’s a blowjob, what else did you think I was gonna do?”

“But it was less than a minute!”

“You’re a great dick sucker.”

Petr’s grin widened into a full-blown open-mouth smile with his lips drawn back to show his teeth.

It wasn’t a compliment Franta was happy to receive. He scraped his tongue across his teeth, trying to scour the taste of Petr’s cum from it, but the fluid had gone everywhere and he could not erase it.

He looked to Otik.

“Are we done? Can I get paid now?”

“Course not. You have to wank yet, and you haven’t even finished wrestling. I don’t suppose you’d let Petr fuck you if I gave you another 3k?”

“Nope, no way man. Nobody’s fucking me!” Franta said emphatically.

“But you already had his dick in your asshole. Then you sucked it.”

Franta suddenly realised what the other taste was on Petr’s dick – it was musty ass sweat. He was appalled but also profoundly grateful that he’d gone to the lavatory and showered thoroughly before coming here.

“Nope, no way. Definitely not happening. There’s no amount of money.”

“5k?” Otik said.

Franta hesitated. It was a lot of money for a boy with no skills.

“Still no,” he said, but he was less aggressively emphatic.

Otik could afford to have raised his offer to 10k and he was certain that Franta would accept, but he was confident that the boy would be back in future, so he didn’t want to raise the expectation that 10k on top of his other salary was the going rate for sex on camera. Franta had hesitated in all the right places during their dialogue, and Otik had subverted too many fiercely heterosexual boys; turned too many into cock-loving faggots who now enjoyed nothing better than getting reamed on camera, to lay all his cards out on a first meeting.

“Okay then, last round of wrestling.”

 

Otik gestured to his bodyguard Lojza to join them. Franta looked at the large man looming over them nervously.

“Okay, in this round, I want you to grab each other’s balls. If you manage to grab them, I want you to squeeze as hard as you can for 30 seconds, or until your partner escapes. No surrenders this time.”

“What?! I’m not doing that. I don’t wanna get my nuts squeezed.”

“You agreed to do what I asked you,” Otik said.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you were gonna ask that. No way I’m doing that. He’s much better than me at wrestling.”

“You’ve got a choice; you can play with Petr…”

Otik turned to his muscular body guard and ominously said, “Or you can play with Lojza.”

Lojza grinned unpleasantly. Franta’s eyes widened. He was pretty certain that if Lojza grabbed his balls even once, that would be the end of them. He turned back to Petr and the boy grinned at him.

“Okay, ready?” Otik asked, “Let’s start!”

Petr dived at Franta.

“No wai… Oof!”

Franta let out as gasp as Petr hit him in the chest with his shoulder like an American football line-backer making a tackle. Franta flew backwards off his knees, landing on his back.

“No stop!” He screamed in alarm.

Petr was all over him, not even making a pretence at being equal. They were face-to-face, but Franta was in survival mode now. He wrapped his arms and legs around Petr like a koala bear clinging to a eucalyptus tree in a hurricane. His arms passed under Petr’s armpits, and his hands linked behind his opponent’s back in a tight gable grip in an effort to prevent Petr from using his own arms. Franta’s legs wrapped around Petr’s waist, drawing their groins together.

But with the oil all over their bodies, it was an impossible task. Petr squirmed and twisted, quickly creating space between them. Franta immediately pulled them together, then Petr would create another space, then another and another.

Franta peripherally noticed with alarm that Vasek, the cameraman was moving into position by their feet, ready to capture a close up as his nuts were squeezed. The man’s lack of confidence in his ability to deny Petr was disconcerting.

Despite his near-total exhaustion, Franta managed to find more reserves of energy, pulling Petr close again, but this was not Petr ‘s first rodeo. He had conserved his strength, wriggling just enough to encourage Franta to expend his own energy. Then, as he felt Franta’s energy and strength suddenly crash, he wriggled half free, and slid his right hand down between their bodies.

“No!” Franta screamed urgently, as he felt the hand moving downwards.

Petr ignored him. His palm slid across Franta’s now-flaccid genitals. Franta reversed his tactic, pulling his pelvis away from Petr, trying to create as much space between it and Petr’s hand as possible. He felt Petr’s hand exploring his groin, then the fingers closed around his sack, teasing his nuts away from his body. Franta felt them as Petr’s fist closed around them. He whimpered and pleaded.

“Please don’t!”

Petr squeezed, and Franta felt a mild ache in both of his testicles. He frantically twisted and turned, pushing at Petr’s fist before the ache turned into real pain, but his testicles were well-trapped. He knew that the pain was going to be intense. He braced for it even as he continued to struggle.

But it never came. Petr looked him in the face. Their eyes met and Petr’s expression was serious. Franta couldn’t read it. Then a huge smile painted itself and Petr released Franta’s balls.

“Ahhhh, psych!”

He moved away, and Franta scrambled backwards, cupping his testicles. He looked to Otik. He, Vasek and Lojza were all laughing.

“We’re just messing with you Franta.  He wouldn’t really hurt a superstar like you. We’re expecting to see you many more times in the future.”

 

Petr moved close again, scrambling over on his hands and knees. Franta’s hands tightened over his groin, but Petr was not interested in his nuts. He grinned, his face almost nose to nose with Franta.

“Anyway,” Petr said, “you’re FAR too pretty to hurt.”

He gave Franta an affectionate kiss on the nose, like a grandparent kissing a young child. Franta stared at him, then back at Otik. Franta was thrown by the sudden shift in reality.

“Don’t look so bewildered Franta,” Otik said, “It’s a just a joke for the new boy. I hope it hasn’t upset you TOO badly?”

Franta scanned the faces in the room one after the other, and they all wore good-natured smiles. He grinned sheepishly.

“You got me there. You got me good.”

Lojza roared with laughter. He spoke with a thick Russian accent.

“The boy thought maybe I vas going to sqvosh his nuts!”

He dropped the fake accent, returning to his much softer Czech tone. He smiled.

“I’m just a glorified driver kid. I’m way too out of shape to start rolling around on the mat!”

 

Petr touched Franta’s tummy gently to draw his attention. Franta looked down at Petr’s hands. The boy gently moved Franta’s hands away from his flaccid penis.

“Let me make it up to you. I’ll give YOU a blowjob.”

“Uhhh, no thanks Petr,” Franta said.

“Even after all we’ve done, you’re still uptight about your sexuality? Come on Franta, don’t be so boring. I’m REALLY good at it.”

“You are?”

Franta had never received what he would consider a good blowjob. A hot mouth and wet lips were enough to get him off, but a GOOD blowjob?

Petr grinned.

“Better than you would believe. Here, let me show you.”

He lowered his head to Franta’s groin and parted his lips.

The second Petr’s mouth touched his penis, Franta knew he’d done the right thing…


Leave a Comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.