“Memories of Tortures Past” by Steve McHalperin, Chapter 3 (of 14)

Chapter 3

Memories of Paul

During your stint in Basic Training, you developed a strong friendship with a muscle buddy, Paul Svenson, and often weight lifted with him, spotting each other. You remember the view facing up from a bench doing heavy presses. Your face was inches from his bulging crotch as he leaned over to help you with the bar. The gear for the gym was friggin’ tight PT shorts, sneaks, no shirt, and you could see the perfect outline of his big hardon and balls. He grinned a bit in one of those “I know what you’re looking at” kind of looks, but you stared anyway. He did the same and you gave him the snarky smile.

Paul was a big Nordic type. He was a few years older and taller than you. He was also more developed muscularly. You discovered in the showers, however, that you had the bigger dick. He was built like an ox and you laughed when he told you his nickname when he was young was Oxe, Swedish for ox.

“Yeah, and mine was Dickie,” you shot back, grabbing your crotch and grinning at him.

You remember when you were younger and fantasizing about POWs and medieval dungeons for your JOs, you had discovered a fantastic internal wiring between your nipples and your cock. If you flicked or pinched your nipples hard, they snapped to attention and became erect. Then there was a surge, a spasm of energy, which shot from your chest to your abs. They writhed and ridged to attention and then passed the electricity to your dick, which responded by quickly getting hard, just like your nips and abs. Then full speed ahead to a JO with your mental POW pals and their torturers.

You remember that night with Paul. The two of you were in the showers after an intense workout. Paul heard you moaning in the shower stall next to him. He walked around into your stall and saw you twisting your nips between your fingers. Your hardon was jutting from your crotch.

“Whoa, bro, that’s a new one!” he joked, moving in close to you. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Electricity, man, electricity,” you remember answering. “If I give these little guys a work out, you get a hundred volts of sex energy to your cock. Feels fantastic!”

“Really? Can you show me how it’s done?” he asked.

“Sure can,” you answered, temporarily abandoning your pre-JO foreplay. “Here, move in under the water with me. That feels good, too.”

You remember moving up close behind him as he faced the back shower wall. You reached around his chest and started to slowly rub each of his nipples. He had thin chest hair, so you had easy access to his pec pegs. This position, however, moved your still-hard cock right into his ass crack, pointing up between his bubble butt cheeks. You’d never fucked a guy before, but the thought had crossed your mind.

But then you focused on Paul.   You rubbed his nips more forcefully and then changed over to squeezing and pinching. You could feel them getting hard, so you upped the ante and began scratching your nails across them. You remembered from your own experience how this went from simple pleasure to a stranger mix, pleasure/pain. That generated the sexual electricity.

Paul started to moan as his own dick hardened up. You also felt his abs tensing, slightly pulling his torso over. The electricity was on the move. You vividly remember how you slowly increased the pressure as the warm shower water cascaded over your bodies, now pressed tightly together, your hairy chest and belly against his broad back. You remember being surprised when Paul reached behind you and grabbed your ass cheeks in his big hands.

Then the main event: you strongly pressed a finger nail into the center of each pec peg, pressed down hard against his ribs, and pulled each nipple up and out to the side. You knew this caused excruciating pain; you had done it on yourself many times. Felt like your pecs were being ripped apart.

Paul was breathing heavy at this point. When you pulled his nipples apart, he yelled out and pressed his hips against the shower wall. He yelled and bucked against the tile in a frenzy of pleasure as he shot his man-juice straight up the space between his chest and the wall. He dug his nails into your buttocks, pressing your own hips against his ass, forcing your cock deeper into his crack. You were surprised when you felt one of his hands migrate to your ass crack, then press in. You felt him work his hand between your shower-wet cheeks. This was followed by two fingers forcing their way into your hole. Then you felt a strong pull sideways, roughly stretching your asshole muscle. The pain was all you needed to push you over the top. You passed the point of no return, yelled, and shot a huge load of splooge up out of the top of his crack. Both of you had cum hands-free.

After the cum, you remember hanging there, clutching his chest. He was slumped against the wall, still holding your ass cheeks in his hands. The warm shower water continued to fall. It was quiet except for the water and your breathing, the quiet after climax. The thought again crossed your mind: maybe this would lead to a fucking. No, not yet, but maybe later. You weren’t sure at this point who would be fucking who.

Then you remember he finally stirred. He released your ass and you released your hold around his chest. You both straightened up and he turned around to face you.

“Where the fuck did you learn that trick!” he grinned.

Before you could answer, he reached around your shoulders and pulled you tight against him, mashing your chests and hips together. You were worried he might try to kiss you, but he didn’t. You weren’t into that. He just held you close, muscle bud to muscle bud, soft dick to soft dick.

Finally he released you, grinning again. “Yeah, that was some trick,” he said. He reached out and squeezed your nips with his fingers. “So that’s how you grew those suckers,” he added. You did have larger than average nipples.

“Yeah,” you grinned back. “All it takes is a lot of heavy workouts. Guess they’re muscles, too.”

Then the two of you toweled off and went to the barracks for a good night’s sleep. Paul’s bed was close to yours and you were the last two to hit the sack that night. You heard him breathing through gnashed teeth and the squeaks from the cot said he had another JO, hands-on this time. Four strong grunts, then half a minute later he was snoring.

You remember that after this initial training in pec work, he would often come up behind you in the gym, lock his arms around your chest and play with you nips until you were begging for release as your dick tried to burst through the thin PT shorts.



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