GAY FRIENDLY HOUSE OF TORTURE
Eli made his way inside and was relieved to find the attorney already waiting for him. He waved the boy away from the lobby and into an adjacent room where they were alone.
"There you are boy! Here, I forgot to give you these." He handed over the tiny belt-like underwear from when Eli had first dressed in gear. "You can wear them again for now. Should make things less awkward."
Eli slipped into the thin ring of stretchy fabric and did his best to cover the head of his dick with the pouch. The silk pressing against his pierced, ultra-aroused tool was highly erotic. Eli knew that the sex hormones in his body were probably the only thing keeping him on his feet.
"What now?" the boy asked. "Please tell me I don't have to work out. I can't. I'm decimated."
The man shrugged. "If you want to die, it's your call. I'm doing my best to help, but I can't force it."
"Fine, I'll do anything. Just get it over with. I want to go back to my old life."
The man handed him a small towel and a small bottle of water. "You have to exercise using some equipment. Any equipment will do as long as you do a proper, exhausting exercise. This task is normally in the middle of the whole thing, so people aren't usually as destroyed as you are now. Here is the important bit. If you mess up a single rep, or quit, you fail. If you can't do an exercise anymore, switch to the next as fast as you can. As long as you're always doing something, you'll be fine. I'll tell you when it's over."
"But... If I go out there like this, I'll get arrested or beat up."
"Don't worry. This is a very gay friendly gym. I admit you look a lot more scantily clad and sexed up than the other patrons. But there's a simple solution. Just be nice and flirtatious and no one will be the wiser. With your big muscles, it's highly believably that you're just showing off to attract a good fuck."
"I have to flirt with the fags? Are you crazy?"
The attorney completely ignored the complaint. "If anyone engages you just give them the most logical answers and no one will give you trouble."
"Engage me? What logical answers?"
With an eye roll, the man answered. "Look at you. You have your contact data and a list of perverse preferences on your back. Not to mention all the other stuff. Just play the part. I promise things will go much more smoothly."
Eli was pushed out the door, back into the lobby. He got three pills. "Those," the man said, "are the caffeine pills from before. I guess you need the boost. Good luck."
Even though the boy knew fair well that the pills had to be a much harder drug, he swallowed them all with a sip from his bottle. The effect kicked in almost instantly. He was still in pain and his muscles were still trembling with weakness, but his blood was pumping. That pump gave him power, but it also made him hornier. He oozed a drop of precum through the pouch.
He passed through the lobby and went up to the reception desk. A small, skinny, blond boy who was obviously, flamboyantly gay greeted him with a broad grin. "Well hello there. The older gentleman told me you'd be quite the looker, but my oh my, what a stud. I love your attire. Very risqué. It's not often we get someone so... confident."
"Th-thanks, man. I'll just... uh, start working out, kay?"
"Sure, sure. If you need someone to show you around, let me know. But I'm sure you'll make a lot of friends."
Eli entered the main area of the gym with his towel across his shoulders. The bright light made his oiled up muscles shine and cast deep shadows on the tan skin where his definition made the individual fibers pop. His dick twitched.
The gym was pretty packed, but a solid selection of machines was available. The clientele ranged from twenty-somethings to seniors, from fat to muscled and from seriously working out to just sitting around. They all were male.
More and more eyes turned to him. And more often than not, to his thick erection. Nobody wore less than a tank top, shorts and shoes. Eli was practically naked. But he couldn't allow himself to give a fuck.
The boy moved along, nodding at everyone who stared at him from close up. The men were smiling at him, greedily devouring the sight. He did his best to smile back. Maybe this was all the flirtation he'd have to do. Just train hard and fast and get out.
Of course as soon as he sat down at the pull down machine, the observers saw his back tattoo. Several phone cameras went off but Eli couldn't afford to turn around. He had begun to work out.
His tired muscles were screaming for mercy. He had even given up on his pride and chosen the lowest weight possible but it was still a strain after all that torture. Working out with very little weight also made it even more clear to the men around that he was only here to present his body. No one seemed to feel any shame in staring hungrily at him.
"So, you're name's Eli?" A man of average build, about thirty, approached from behind. "I've never seen you here before."
The boy did his best not to let his voice give away how exhausting the simple exercise was. "Someone recommended the place to me. Thought I'd check it out."
"I see. Should I call you Eli, or do you prefer Anal Whore?"
"Um... Eli's fine, thanks."
"Nah, come on. We all know what you really want."
"Sure. Whatever."
His shoulders were in too much pain. He would let the bar slide from his grip any second. He got up, smiled at the man and went to the next machine. It was the abdominal bench. No one could see his back while he was on it, but he had to do crunches for as long as he was using it.
A few guys surrounded him. One sat down on the next bench over without doing the exercise. "Hey Anal Whore, those are some nice tats and rings."
"Thanks, man." Eli had to keep talking all while continuing the exercise.
"Great body. I bet you know how to use it."
"Sure do."
Shamelessly, the man pulled out his phone and filmed Eli from close up. The boy did his best to focus in the crunches and his pulsing erection. Those pills had really dialed up his horniness.
"What do you say, Anal Whore," said another man, "If you come back to the showers with us and show us how good you are as using your body. In particular your mouth and ass."
"I'd actually like to get in a workout for a little while."
"Ah, I get it. Need to get the blood pumping before you can please dicks. Sensible. But Anal Whore, you could at least entertain us a bit. Tell us how you'd show off what you can do."
"Sorry, gotta switch equipment."
What could Eli do that would let him get away from those questions? While the men complained that he was a tease and playing hard to get, he saw the ideal solution.
Eli walked over to the dumbbell stand, grabbed two fairly light ones and did lunge steps. With every step he bend down all the way. His knees screamed for mercy but he focused his thoughts on his horniness from which he drew strength. The silk of his pouch rubbed his dick with every lunge, which helped a lot, sending pleasure signals to his brain to compete with the aches.
The men didn't follow him as he went around the gym, but every single patron was staring at him openly.
Finally it got too much for his legs and he began to waver dangerously. Just before failing the rep, he chose a new exercise. Sitting in front of a wall sized mirror, Eli used the dumbbells he was still holding for biceps curls. Those were surprisingly easy, due to the low weight.
Eli could see his mirror image I all its glory. Especially the `faggot anal slave' on his forehead was prominent. That one was probably the worst one.
He felt his muscles tire quickly but he could manage for a while. A few men sat down around him again.
"Don't hold back, Anal Whore. We can see how much this training excites you. Let's hear it. Don't worry, we're fine with men who make some noise when they train."
Eli figured it was better than having to talk to them. He let his breathing get louder until it turned to groaning. More other men had stopped exercising to watch him so he was the main source of sound. A few hands touched him, gently rubbing his pecs and abs, but he couldn't stop exercising or complain for fear they'd make him stop.
He thought he could ignore it by focusing on his arousal and the biceps curls. But then one daring man slid under Eli's ass and fingered his hole. The sore sphincter shot pain up his spine and he dropped the weights.
The tingling happened in his throat again. Was he getting his gag reflex back?
He wanted to leave, but the men blocked his way. "Not so fast, Anal Slave. If you won't stay and suck or fuck, that's fine. We have your address now anyway. But at least tell us what you'd do to please us. You're not getting out of here any sooner."
Let's hope Eli is a good actor. What might that new mark be?