This story was written in collaboration with Master Primus. If you’re a Thorne or Bowen type, and fancy being a slave, then hit him up.
Jack swiped his new membership card, and the electronic beep echoed through the gym like a familiar greeting. He stumbled slightly as he walked into the gym, his eyes scanning the room for a familiar face amidst the sea of muscles and determination. As a fresh addition to the gym's landscape, Jack was a college twink with a sprinkling of freckles across his nose, trying to bulk up in the shadow of giants. His hands trembled slightly as he clutched his water bottle, and he almost dropped it as he tried to take a sip. He fumbled with the lid, spilling water all over his shirt.
In the corner, a man caught his eye. The man's presence was commanding, with broad shoulders and bulging biceps that exuded an aura of power and confidence. He strutted around the gym like he owned the place, his eyes scanning the room with a sense of mastery. His hair was a rich, dark brown that curled slightly at the nape of his neck, and his piercing blue eyes seemed to bore holes through the air. His face was a masterpiece of rugged masculinity, with sharp cheekbones, a strong jawline, and a nose that was slightly crooked, as if it had been broken at least once. His chest was covered in a thick layer of hair, and his abs were chiseled, with a clear definition of the six-pack muscles that rippled beneath his skin as he moved.
As Jack watched, the man walked across the room, his long legs eating up the distance. His thighs were thick and muscular, with a clear definition of the quadriceps and hamstrings. His ass was a sight to behold, with well-defined muscles and a clear separation between the different muscle groups. As he moved, his ass cheeks flexed and relaxed in a way that kept Jack transfixed. Jack's eyes widened, and he felt his face grow hot with embarrassment as he realized he was staring. He stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet, and almost fell to the ground.
Just then, a voice rang out across the gym, "Nice lift, Thorne!" The man's head turned, and he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Jack's eyes widened as he realized that the man's name was Thorne. He felt a shiver run down his spine as their eyes met, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. Jack's legs felt like jelly, and he stumbled slightly as he tried to take a step back. He bumped into a nearby weight machine, causing it to clatter to the ground.
Jack's eyes landed on a guy across the room who made him do a double take. He was a solid 6 feet tall, with a physique that was undeniably hot, even if it didn't quite hold a candle to Thorne's chiseled perfection. His sandy blond hair was cut in a stylishly messy way that made him look like he'd just rolled out of bed, and his bright blue eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. There was an air of confidence about him that was hard to ignore, like he was used to being the center of attention - but somehow, he wasn't. Instead, he seemed to be hovering around Thorne, trying to soak up some of the admiration that everyone else was directing at the bigger guy. It was almost like he was trying to ride Thorne's coattails, and Jack couldn't help but wonder what his story was.
As Jack watched, the guy began to do squats, his legs bending and straightening with a fluid motion. His ass was a sight to behold, with the muscles flexing and relaxing with each repetition. Jack's eyes were glued to his ass, watching as it flexed and relaxed with each squat. He felt a surge of excitement mixed with trepidation as he watched, unsure of what to make of the man's captivating presence.
Jack’s first day and the gym did not go well. He approached the bench press with a mix of excitement and trepidation. He had been watching YouTube tutorials for weeks, preparing for this moment. His heart hammered in his chest, and his palms grew slick with sweat as he adjusted the weight. It was heavier than he was used to, but he wanted to make a good impression. He took a deep breath and lay down, his eyes locking onto the barbell above him. He reached up and gripped the cold steel, feeling the weight through his shoulders.
As he pushed up with all his might, his arms quivered, and his vision blurred. He managed to get the barbell to hover a few inches above his chest before gravity took over. The weight plummeted, and Jack's breath left him in a rush as the barbell came crashing down. The sound of the metal hitting the supports echoed through the gym, and the smell of fear filled the air. For a moment, everything stood still, and Jack felt like he was in a nightmare.
Then, like a knight in shining armor, Thorne was there, his massive frame looming over him. He quickly and easily lifted the barbell off of Jack's chest, setting it back on the rack with a thud that seemed to shake the ground. The sudden relief washed over Jack, and he gasped for air, his chest heaving with the effort. He looked up into Thorne's eyes, expecting to find judgment or ridicule, but instead, he saw a flicker of concern and something else - a spark of kindness?
"You okay?" Thorne's voice was a deep rumble that seemed to resonate in Jack's very core. He nodded, still too stunned to form coherent words. Thorne offered a hand, and Jack took it gratefully, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. The contact was electric, sending a jolt of something new and thrilling through him. He felt small and fragile beside this colossus of a man, his own body suddenly feeling inadequate.
Jack stumbled away, his face aflame with embarrassment. He tried to focus on his workout, but his eyes kept darting back to Thorne and the other guy, the one with sandy colored hair and the perfect ass. The two men seemed to be the centre of attention, with everyone in the gym watching them with a mixture of admiration and envy.
Jack had had enough. He scooped up his stuff and made a beeline for the door, his legs feeling like jelly underneath him. As he stepped out of the gym, he couldn't shake the image of Thorne from his mind - the guy was seriously intimidating, but in a weird way, that only made him more attractive. Jack's heart was still racing from their brief encounter, and he couldn't deny the spark of attraction he felt. But let's be real, Thorne was way out of his league - the guy was a total powerhouse, and Jack didn't stand a chance. Yet, his mind kept wandering back to Thorne's friend, the sandy-haired dude with the killer smile, who seemed content to hang back and let Thorne soak up all the attention. There was something about him that had caught Jack's eye, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to get to know him better. As he walked away from the gym a tentative grin spread across his face. He was already turning a plan over in his head, one that could potentially flip the script on his interactions with these two guys.
The next day, Jack walked into the gym, his heart racing like crazy. He'd been thinking about the sandy-haired guy nonstop since the day before, and he was surprised by how much he'd gotten under his skin. Thorne, on the other hand, was still a perfect specimen of a man - chiseled, confident, and completely out of his league.
As Jack scanned the room, his eyes landed on the sandy-haired guy. Jack's heart skipped a beat as he took in the sight of the guy's bright blue eyes and charming smile. The guy was chatting with Thorne, and Jack's mind started racing with all the possible ways this could go down. What if he went over and introduced himself, and the guy totally blew him off? What if Thorne was somehow involved, and Jack ended up looking like a total idiot in front of him? Ugh, his mind was a mess.
But Jack had a plan, or at least, he thought he did. He'd been thinking it over in his head all night, trying to come up with the perfect way to break the ice and get the sandy-haired guy's attention. He was going to casually stroll over, mention something about the gym equipment, and then... well, that's where things got a little fuzzy. Jack was hoping to somehow steer the conversation towards a workout buddy situation, or maybe even a post-gym smoothie. It sounded simple enough, but as he stood there, watching the guy laugh and joke with Thorne, Jack's nerves started to get the better of him.
As Jack approached, he couldn't help but notice the man he had been crushing on laughing and smiling with Thorne. The man's eyes sparkled with amusement, and his perfect physique seemed to radiate confidence. He had his hand on Thorne's back, and Jack felt a pang of jealousy at the intimate gesture. The man's eyes flicked over to Jack, but he didn't acknowledge him, instead turning his attention back to Thorne. The snub was like a slap in the face, but Jack tried to brush it off, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. He felt a little stung, but he was determined not to let it get to him.
"Hey, sir," Jack called out, trying to sound respectful. Thorne's head jerked up, and he smiled. "Jack, drop the formalities. Just call me Thorne, okay?" His voice was deep and friendly, and Jack felt a little more at ease. "How's it going?" Thorne asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he waited for a response.
Jack swallowed hard, his grip tightening on his gym towel. "Good, thanks." He nodded towards the other guy, trying to sound casual. "I'm Jack."
Thorne's smile widened. "Jack, this is Bowen. He's a bit of a gym regular too."
Jack nodded, trying to keep his cool. "Hey," he offered, extending a hand.
Bowen barely glanced at him, his handshake firm but dismissive. "What's up, kid?"
Jack felt his cheeks burn with a mix of irritation and inadequacy. He gritted his teeth and said, "Just here to work out."
Bowen turned back to Thorne, cutting off Jack's attempt at small talk. "So, Thorne, you going to the game tonight?"
Thorne nodded. "Yeah, should be fun. You?"
Jack took a step back, his hand dropping to his side. He felt invisible again, a mere spectator. Bowen's eyes darted to him briefly, and Jack could almost see the calculation in them. He knew what Bowen was thinking - that he was just another admirer, a nobody trying to bask in Thorne's glory. It was a feeling Jack was all too familiar with from his college days, where the popular guys always had an entourage of hopefuls trailing behind.
He decided to focus on his workout, pushing aside the sting of rejection. Each day, he went to the gym religiously, hoping to catch a glimpse of Bowen to maybe get a nod of acknowledgement or, if he was lucky, some advice. On the other hand, Thorne did offer help here and there, mostly when Bowen was busy preening in the mirror or flirting with some of the female gym-goers. His instructions were brief and to the point, but Jack hung onto every word like they were gold. He learned to time his routines to coincide with Thorne's, eager to catch any scrap of information he could.
Thorne was always professional and friendly. He'd spot Jack on the bench press, correct his form on the squats, and give a gruff nod of approval when Jack managed to deadlift more than the previous day. They'd exchange pleasantries, with Thorne occasionally mentioning his high-school-aged kid, his words hinting at a life beyond the gym walls that Jack knew nothing about.
Jack's clumsiness persisted, turning simple stretches into acrobatic feats and his gym sessions into a silent comedy routine for those nearby. He'd drop weights, trip over his own feet, and once, he'd even accidentally knocked over a rack of dumbbells, sending them clattering to the floor like a symphony of metal. Each time, Thorne would be there, a tower of stability, helping him up with a firm hand and a chuckle that seemed to say, "You'll get it, kid." It was both humiliating and comforting, like being caught in a cycle of awkwardness but knowing there was someone there who didn't expect him to be perfect.
As the days turned into weeks, Jack began to notice a pattern in Bowen's interactions with the female patrons of the gym. The man would draw in women with his charisma and good looks as surely as iron filings to a magnet. They'd flirt and giggle, often asking for his help with their workouts, which Bowen would give with a wink and a smile. Jack found himself both envious and fascinated, watching the flirtatious dance from the sidelines like a wallflower at a high school prom.
Bowen's eyes seemed to sparkle with a mischievous glint, and his smile could light up an entire room. Jack couldn't help but be mesmerized by the man's charisma and presence. He seemed to have an aura of invincibility around him, and his bright blue eyes seemed to bore into Jack's soul. Jack felt a surge of excitement mixed with trepidation as he watched Bowen, unsure of what to make of the man's captivating presence.
One day, Jack was stretching in the corner, trying to ignore the dull ache in his muscles, when he overheard a whispered conversation between two other gym-goers. "Did you hear about Bowen?" one of them said, her voice low and gossipy. "I heard he's into guys too."
Jack's heart skipped a beat, and he leaned in closer, his ears perking up like a fox on the hunt. "What do you mean?" the other replied, a mix of skepticism and intrigue in his tone.
"You know, he's not like, full-on gay, but he's not completely straight either," the gossipy woman continued, her eyes darting around the room before landing on Jack, who quickly pretended to focus on his stretch. "It's like he's got this wild side or something. He's been seen around town with some pretty... interesting company."
Jack's mind raced. Could it be true? His heart thudded in his chest like a drum, and he couldn't help the thrill that shot through him. It was like the universe had handed him a secret, a map to the treasure he'd been seeking. He pushed the thought aside and focused on his workout, but every movement felt heavier, his muscles protesting with each repetition.
As the weeks went by, the rumors and whispers about Bowen only intensified, but he remained impassive, never once acknowledging the attention. Meanwhile, Jack's infatuation with him continued to simmer, a constant ache in his gut that drove him to push himself harder in the gym. He wanted to be stronger, to be worthy of Bowen's attention, but deep down, he knew it wasn't just about physical strength. The chasm between them seemed insurmountable, and Jack couldn't shake the feeling that he was just an awkward, gangly college kid, why would Bowen be interested in him?
But Jack had a plan, and that plan involved Thorne.
One evening, Jack gathered all the courage he could muster and approached Thorne. He had to know if he had a chance. "Thorne," he said, his voice quivering slightly. "I need to ask you something... in private."
Thorne looked at him, his eyebrows raising slightly. He nodded towards the basement, where the changing rooms and showers were located. "Let's go down there."
Jack's heart hammered in his chest as they descended the stairs. The air grew heavier with each step, the sound of their footsteps echoing down the corridor. When they reached the bottom, Thorne turned to him, his blue eyes piercing through the shadows. "What's on your mind, Jack?"
Jack's throat constricted as he tried to form the words. He could feel his cheeks burning, and his gaze kept dropping to the floor, unable to meet Thorne's intense stare. "I... I just wanted to ask you something, in private," he finally managed to get out, his voice quivering like a leaf in the wind.
Thorne leaned against the wall of the basement, his muscular arms crossing over his chest. He raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "I've got a pretty good idea what you want, kid," he said, his voice low and amused. He reached down to adjust his shorts, his hand brushing against the bulge in his pants. The fabric stretched tight over his thick cock, which twitched at the touch.
Jack's eyes darted to the floor, his face flushing a deep red. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. "I just... I just wanted to ask you something,” he stammered, his eyes flicking up to meet Thorne's for a brief moment before dropping again.
Thorne's smirk faded, his expression turning curious. "Alright," he said, his voice softer, less boisterous. "What is it, Jack?"
Jack took a deep breath, his heart thudding in his chest. He knew he was taking a risk, but he had to get it out. "I want you to... tell Bowen that I like him," he blurted, his eyes still fixed on the floor tiles.
Thorne's expression changed in an instant. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched, his face darkening with a scowl. He looked away, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for something. For a moment, Jack thought he saw a flash of shock in Thorne's eyes.
Thorne's expression turned incredulous, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "You're interested in Bowen?" he asked, his voice low and rough, like a growl. He looked back at Jack, his eyes searching for something, but his gaze was laced with a mix of confusion and disappointment. Thorne just stood there, his massive frame towering over Jack, his face a mask of puzzlement.
