Presentation
CHIEF blew smoke on the glowing embers of his cigar, hardly noticing the slaveskull blowing his 10 inches. CHIEF gestured to one of the tongueshines, who sat up on all fours. With its bootpolish-tongue still out CHIEF casually dropped the still glowing ash off his Methuselah into the human ashtray's mouth. "Ready MUIR?" the Commander shouted.
Immediately the lights went down. Sarge FLEX, who had been absent from the proceedings, appeared on stage, barechested but in still in breeches, and grabbed the ceiling mike.
"Gut evening COMMANDANT - men. Tonight we have a very special guest - Last night's Olympia champ Ray Butler will guest pose. In view of this special honour, if I could ask to put away your toys and behave HAHAHA."
The ranks of Officers grumbled, but realized the secret signal indicated was a civilian in their midst, and that nefarious activities, such as slave fucking, had to be suspended for an ulterior motive. Even CHIEF briefly unsheathed his cock from its skull-holster and forced it back into his cod, putting his gold-trimmed Cap over his pouch to hide the tent. And in the interests of deception, his three slaves standing up, briefly, by his sides. All the other Officers also removed their caps, to hide their decal.
Ray Butler, who had competed with FLEX many times, and beaten him twice at the Olympia, had heard a rumour that FLEX was a member of a biker gang, with its own gym. It was idle curiosity that had led him to agree to accept the handsome appearance fee. FLEX had met him at the door of the ordinary-looking building barechested and wearing leather biker pants with a funky-looking flap at the front. This did not put him off, as he had seen FLEX arrive at Gold's on his Hog wearing these, and nothing else, many times before.
In the smokey dark he could make rows of bikers, heavily uniformed like police, who looked big enough to be amateur builders, with barechested smaller guys standing next to them, some in posers - presumably straight from the in-house gym. Odd that all these guys smoked cigars. There was also a big biker guy sitting on the stage (maybe the leader of the gang?) with some other gym guys standing next to him (maybe other guest posers?).
"Maestro - musik, bitte". FLEX called, as the favourite posing music of all bodybuilders, the Krautrock Rammstein classic "Du Hast Mich" boomed out. Butler for an instant looked puzzled as FLEX chuckled to himself as the music started for Butler's freestyle routine....
Butler performed his routine in the black shiny leatherette posers he wore when he won the Olympia as a request from FLEX "so the guys really know you Mr Olympia HAHA". He was also asked not to oil up, as their would be no shower facilities.
In keeping with the all-male, testosteroned atmosphere, Butler performed a more macho rendition of his prize winning-routine, to loud roars from the bikers especially when he flexed his trade-mark barrel-chest lat-spread. But oddly he was more deafened by WOLF's whistles whenever he did a rear shot...
Halfway through the second rotation, Butler noticed out of the corner of his eye two guys come on the stage behind in what looked like riot police uniform. For a split-second he thought one was FLEX, wearing uniform, and carrying some rope...
Suddenly the spotlight went out. Butler heard the two cops rush him from behind and a powerful whack on his torso, as he was wrestled to the ground face down on the mat. Before he could move, his arms had been pulled behind his broad back as he felt the cold metal of cuffs on his wrists, and rope being rapidly tied round his shoulders arms and back As he kicked his legs, he felt them forced down and cold metal clamping his ankles. When he tried to shout out, he felt a metal gag snapped over his mouth, rendering him speechless. The 275 pound 5'10" Pro was pulled up to his feet, by the equally powerful cops.
When the lights came up the world-famous Pro was completely bound. In the audience he could see the bikers were actually some kind of police force, now all wearing peaked caps, and shades. And he thought he saw one with one of the naked guys blowing him.
Butler had been expertly roped by SARGE ACE in barely 1 minute flat. A nasty 4-legged spider gag had being swiftly inserted in the muscleman's spluttering mouth, which ACE had recently brought in from his sideline porn business. The Pro was trussed up in bastino, struggling desperately, unaccustomed to his musclemass being overpowered.
SARGE FLEX reached up for the mike. The meathead beamed from ear to ear.
"Not so big now, BLONDIE" roared FLEX, swaggerring up to the humiliated pro. FLEX's voice as different as he had a voice modifier in his riot mask - part of Cellblock Riot uniform: helmet, flak jacket, kevlar gauntlets, PR24, facemask, shades and Kalashnikov, badge hidden by a black leather patch.
"Won't be coming first now. Guess, what - I AM a bad loser boi" the psyched out riot cop growled through the mask. "I always thought you were a cheating buttboi, and now we will all see it BLONDIE."
Butler was turned round by SARGE ACE and OFFICER FREAK, the newest Officer from Russia - only 18 but already the same 275 pound mass of Butler.
"CHIEF, on behalf of the Command, I give you your presentation.". FLEX, ACE and FREAK saluted the big man on the throne. Butler was kicked to the floor in front of the Commander's boots.
"What hole would you like, BOSS?" Laughed FLEX. "And what one can I have...HAHAHA."
"I need a new fuckskull, FLEX" CHIEF smirked. The Pro's head was lifted of the mat. Butler saw the biker chief was wearing a peaked Officer cap. On demand, CHIEF punched his sheathed cock again through his cod-pouch slit. His frightening massive weapon stood cocked sticking out of his leather breeches, twitching and salivating hungrily with cock-spit.
CHIEF reached forward with a heavy gauntlet. And smiling down at his cheering posse, plunged stabbed the pro's skull with one hard cock-blow. The pro's muffled screams were drowned out by FLEX, FREAK and ACE's roars, as they stroked their cock meat ready for their part in the presentation rape. One by one, the cops fukked the world-famous pro.
When the ritual was finished, the bound muscleman was put to a final, humiliating use.
"ACE, pull the panels from under CHIEF's throne," SARGE MUIR called over the intercom. A low, flat cage had been built in the podium under CHIEF's throne. The mumbling bodybuilder was unceremoniously bundled in head first like a dog.
"You can keep him there ready for when YOU want to fuck him CHIEF!" laughed FLEX. The Commander was truly sitting on top of the (MR) World....
Two punchbags were lowered from the ceiling....CHIEF was invited to try out some right hooks. After five minutes., the bags were unzipped, revealing the two heavily-muscled, bruised pain-pigs., tumbling onto the mat.
"Our newest Officer FREAK's tribute". MUIR announced. Some of the SARGE's upstaged, thought they best keep an eye on the young giant..."
SARGE WOLF ON CELLBLOCK DUTY DESK.
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