*** SLITHER INTO RUIN ***
*** Chapter 7 ***
*** High Fashion ***
"Get a fucking move on, man," Ken said, jogging ahead, back toward Marina del Sol where he had seen a place to hide.
"I... I can't keep going," Bryce said. "My legs are fucked and I'm an athlete, dude."
"Same, bruh," Marsh said. "I think it's the sex more than the ass-burns and pain-gasming."
"Ugh, don't call it `sex'," Bryce said. "We're not a bunch of faggots. We're just... helping each other."
"Right," Ken said. He looked down at himself where the oriental ouroboros was wrapping around his legs. He was turning semi-hard in his thong. "Give me your shirt, Bryce. I need to cover my boner."
"Fuck you, I still got a semi, dude."
Marsh handed over the backpack to Bryce. "Keep it all. I'll be `helping out' anyway. So, where do we hide?"
They had made it back to an area with pedestrians regularly crossing their path. Ken's `dragon tattoo' had traveled up to his shoulder blades. He found the tarp he had been looking for but it had been stacked with boxes from a van that guys in overalls were still unloading.
"Fuck, man. What do I do? Maybe we ca-gllrhh." The choking was instant and Ken's eyes widened in shock. He was out of time and grabbed the hem of his thong, ready to pull it down amid the loose crowd.
"Come here, bro," Marsh said and rammed his fist into the tenting crotch from below. He pulled the shorter muscle guy along.
They entered a Split Tongue Shack – a store for beach clothing, backpacks, surfing and biking gear all themed around `dual personality'. It was dark and moody inside, with loud punk music blearing.
Marsh dragged Ken past a fishing net full of sandals and nodded toward the bored young gal behind the counter. "Bryce, distract that bitch. Ask about surfing or flirt with her or some shit." He nodded at the cooler. "And get me more Mutant."
The woman behind the counter looked at the nearly naked bodybuilder with an obvious semi-hardon in his thong and the buff gymnast with the same issue, carrying only a little spice bottle and a phone on a selfie-stick.
Luckily, Bryce was the most charming person in the universe if he wanted to and despite his guts being filled with the pain of hell he had the woman's attention with just one casual smirk.
Ken was dangerously red-faced, tending to purple, by the time Marsh closed the curtain of the changing booth that just about fit them.
The Asian gymnast drummed on his nuts, thong down at his knees, and turned on the livestream to drive the serpent off his throat.
"Gotta keep quiet," Marsh said. He looked forward, meeting Ken's eyes in the booth's full length mirror. Ken was biting his lips, mildly cross-eyed, quivering. His rock-hard seven incher bounced aggressively.
"Bruh, you look so pathetic," Marsh said and chuckled. He rolled his condom on and took over filming duty.
"Spread for me, you little bitch. You want this, don't you?"
"F-fuck you, cocksucker," Ken said but raised his ass with thighs apart. "Just ge-... get it over wi-... with already. No h-... homo."
Marsh slathered the condom in Python's Kiss. They were almost out. He lined up with the muscled glutes before him, looking back and forth between his dick and the mirror ahead.
Ken tried to pull away the second his ass was entered. The choking was more sporadic, depending on the camera angle. "Ughhh, it hu-... hurts so bad... uh uh ...it hurts so mu-... much more... uh uh uh ...fuck bitch cunt shit ass whore fuck-"
Marsh put a hand over Ken's mouth and sped up the humping. The gymnast fought with himself to stay quiet. Soon his face was reddening again.
Marsh was so horny he could barely think. He wanted to fuck harder but he knew they couldn't afford to get interrupted.
He pushed Ken to move 90 degree and the boy complied while furiously nut-tapping himself. Marsh raised the selfie-stick above the curtain and glanced at the screen. Bryce was trying novelty sunglasses at the entrance, keeping the sales person engaged and far from the booth.
Marsh lowered the phone, filming himself fucking into Ken's ass in the mirror again and dared to hump harder.
"Hmmmmnnngg," Ken made, no longer muffled by the bodybuilder's hand. "Uh uh uh, I'm getting there..." He kept slapping his nuts from different directions. "Uh uh almost... fuck I'm so close, fuck uh uh... Keep it up, stud."
Marsh flexed his arm at the camera. "Hot-sauce-gasming in the ass, dicklover? Or is it the nuts?"
"Fuck you. Uh uh but yeah, I'm going in-fucking-sane."
"Shush, you're too loud."
"Fuuuck," Ken said, no quieter, his breath close to hyperventilation.
He was tightly flexed, only his forearm moving at the speed of sound, drumming on his balls. "It's like I'm cumming foreverrr. Hmmmmng, nut-pain-gasmmmm, holy shit, man, this is crazyyy."
"Uh relax, bruh, you're gonna make me cum."
"Uh uh... don't uh uh... fucking dare uh uh... cum in my ass again man uh uh uh... I'm n-not a f-faggot uh uh..."
Marsh didn't respond, too preoccupied with orgasming as he filled the condom, stifling a grunt.
Ken somehow tensed even further. He was sucking his lips in, whining.
The shorter boy sprayed a load at the booth wall in two long squirts with a third one drizzling down his untouched shaft to the floor.
Marsh relaxed and tapped the bottom's shoulder. "Good job, FitKing."
"...Marshmallow?" Ken asked, voice weak.
"Yeah?"
"Get the fuck out of my ass."
"Hehe, can do, bro."
As Marsh pulled out, Ken threw his head back, feeling the last stroke of the hot-sauce dick, now oversensitive. The livestream ended with him whimpering cross-eyed.
"Feeling all right, bruh?"
Ken gave him a `you can't be serious' look. "I've got a reverse volcano back there. I want to fucking kill someone."
"Hehe, reverse volcano..." Marsh shrugged. "Same, actually. But you got a nut-gasm, right?"
"Fuck you. That's not worth it. It's made out of pain. Do you like it?"
"I dunno, it was kinda... um. Let's just finish the fucking job."
Nearly unable to walk from the ongoing ass-burn and the aftermath of nut-torture, the boys emerged from the cabin to see Bryce waiting.
"Here," the blond swimmer said and handed over Split Tongue shirts, each half white, half black, separated by a jagged diagonal line. The tank tops hung low enough to cover their deflating hard-ons that were badly tugged into their thongs.
Bryce was still wearing his own red tank top, now complimented by a Split Tongue snapback, the serrated black-and-white hat sitting atop his blond mop.
They made it out of the store, Ken waddling now, while Bryce's walk was almost normal with only a remnant of the spicy swagger. Marsh chucked the condom on the road, then wet-wiped his hands.
Bryce handed out peanut butter protein bars and Mutant Energy Ultra. Not their usual flavor but they gulped it down for the extra caffeine boost.
Marsh pulled appetite suppressants and fat burner pills from their inventory. "Anybody else?"
"I'm not on a cut," Ken said. "Thanks for the reminder, though."
The gymnast pulled a box of his own supplements out and flushed them down with Mutant alongside the bar.
Marsh swallowed his vitamins. "Not loving this shit but I guess that's my fucking lunch today."
Bryce had been staring at his uPhone and angrily stuffed it into the bag. "My Hydra got fucking towed. How the fuck am I gonna explain this shit to my parents?"
Ken chuckled. "I'd be thinking less about the car and more about the public fagging."
"Fuck you. That car is my baby. Let's just go, you brainless gym addicts."
Ken gave them a direction and they filmed a short Mutant burping contest on the way.
Then Bryce said, "I'm collecting 12.99 for those shirts from each, by the way. Snacks are on me but I'm not gonna be your fucking piggy bank, dude."
"Okay," Ken said and scrolled through his phone. "Man, I got texts from Cindy, Yua and Tina. Literally every ex has seen my Clapper now, fuck. I'm... not even gonna read those messages."
"Same bruh," Marsh said. "Got a text from the chick I was talking to at the gym. Let's just say I've blown my fucking chance there, hehe."
"Uh dude," Bryce said. "Can we go back to where Ken The Cheapskate Lee just said `okay' to giving me money?"
Ken flashed his middle finger. "I linked my BuyBud account for tips on Clapper and by now my saving goals are checked off the fucking list, man."
Marsh laughed and slapped the gymnast's back. "That's the most Ken idea you've ever had, you brotherfucking bastard. Uh, where are we going, by the way?"
Ken pointed with his phone as if he could project the map in front of him. "The Fire Serpent lives at Sea View Boulevard. It's a 20 minute walk or a five minute ride and we look presentable for the moment so..."
"Dude," Bryce said with a sigh as he recognized their destination. "Haven't taken the bus in ages. I wish the shit snake hadn't locked me out of my own fucking car."
"So sorry for you, milord," Ken said and slapped the swimmer's abs.
Marsh grabbed Bryce's ass. "Haha. You're one of the peasants now, bitch."
"Fuck you, dude. Hehe."
The muscle boys hopped onto the Line 5 Shuttle. Sitting down made it obvious that they wore little underneath the black and white – or in Bryce's case red – tank tops. But aside from a light sheen of sweat, they didn't stand out any more than three hunks on the bus always do.
Two stations farther, looking out the window onto Market Street, Marsh felt refreshed enough from the energy drink to get introspective. He was as used to the ass-burn as he'd ever get, but still scooted uncomfortably in his seat, his massive naked legs bumping on Bryce's long lean muscled ones and Ken's thickly ripped, short ones. He kept expecting the serpent to show up, but for now he was in the clear.
There was a lot he could and should have been thinking about, but if he regretted anything about today the most it was missing his meals, messing up his macros, doing too much `unscheduled cardio' and if he was honesty he didn't see himself putting in maximum effort on chest day tomorrow.
As the bus took the corner at Market & Green the hunks were back to punching each other in the arms, pulling each other's tank tops up and generally being a public nuisance.
"Not even complaining, bruh?" Marsh asked, with his hand slipped down Bryce's top, groping his chest. "Learned to love getting manhandled, you little fag?"
Bryce laughed and struggled to escape. "Hehe, no chance, cocksucker. I'm just letting you distract me from, you know..." He lowered his voice. "...that brotherfucking ass-burn."
"Oh yeah?" Ken asked and evaded a nut-tap by crossing his ripped legs. "You can distract yourself by swallowing my giant shaft, baby carrot."
Bryce body-checked Ken in his seat, nearly driving them both to the ground as the bus braked for the Ophion Arc stop.
Marsh's grin froze when he saw the serpent's ink-like scales winding around his forearm. It was his turn again.