Rugby Pup Part 1

“Rugby Pup” Part 1

“How the hell did this happen?” i thought to myself in between my panting and laboured breathing. I realised it was a rhetorical question as I subconsciously or consciously knew the real answer. The reality was, here I was at dusk on the front porch of a house in the suburbs, shirt off, standing in front of the peephole of the front door flexing my muscles giving an almost bodybuilderlike show, as best I knew how to, to no one or so it would seem if anyone was watching. No one probably could as the driveway to the house is about 200 yards from the street creating a great sense of privacy behind the tall hedges and row of trees. I had always been thankful for that - especially in the beginning.
I wasn’t as muscular in the beginning or even the end, but these last two months i had dieted and worked out with a ferocity and discipline that puzzled everyone, even the show bodybuilders at the gym. I flexed my bulging biceps, puffed out my chest, turned and showed my ripped back and shoulders before I stripped to my shorts to show my tight 6-8 pack abs and cut waist. It's was the tightest i had ever been. All the while a huge tent forming in my pants.
Being this fit and muscular along with my good natural form made me feel incredibly horny when i looked in the mirror and secretly when I was made to feel like an objectified piece of meat. That's what I was to him I'm afraid, a lot of the time, nothing more than a muscular object, slavemeat . Curiously it turned me the hell on. A feeling I had fought to admit, then accept.
I had to accept that this was going to be one of the biggest battles of my life but I have always had tenacity and determination. It was the same determination that had gotten me into and through the Wharton School of Business, made me a successful Wall Street guy with an enviable income and great apartment, an amateur sports champion with a fit body and handsome face that women liked - in fact I had a life most would kill for. Yet here i was now sweating & posing desperately on a dimly lit porch fighting to get another.
The desperate battle for his attention, the strength and pride of my muscles and body did turn me on but after an hour I began to sink into despair and give up. I stopped and sat on the ground on the porch facing the door. I was going to have to go back to my original life. Hey, It really wasn't half bad but for me there was something better which no one would probably understand.
I sighed, stood up, played with the tent in my pants a little since I thought no one was looking, heaved my pumped chest, picked up my tank top and bag and begun to walk down the steps - a few tears forming in my eyes. At the last steps to the driveway I suddenly heard a click of the door and I swiveled my neck around with an adrenaline rush I had never felt before. The door was ajar but he was not in sight. I went up the stairs cautiously, my mind flooding with memories and fear. I knew it wasn't going to be easy. I would get it in the neck and be punished for sure. How, i couldn't say. He liked to whip sometimes and would probably do so even more severely with the increased muscularity and definition of my back and body. That was the whole conundrum with him, you were damned if you did and damned if you didn't. If he didn't feel you gave it your all in his prescribed workouts and training you could be whipped, but the more muscular and fit you became the more he seemed to want to use the whip. I hated being whipped, I wasn't a masochist who got off on the pain. The humiliation of the way he would make you fetch it and place it before him with your teeth was to me worse than the pain. Just the sight of it struck me with hatred and I would seethe with resentment in my mind But you just had to suck it up if you wanted to be owned...by him. And now in a way that was completely different from the beginning I did.
It all started about a year ago at the beginning of the spring. I was on a field in a city park playing a game in my amateur rugby league….