Chapter 2: The Shower Awakening: A Lesson in Submission
The slap of wet flip-flops echoed down the corridor from the sauna towards the showers. Brad walked slightly ahead, shoulders bunched, radiating a restless energy that hadn't been there before the heat. The awkward silence from the sauna clung to him like the steam still rising from his skin. Brad needed release, and Josh would give it to him. Eventually.
"Fuckin' saunas, man," Brad grunted, his voice too loud in the tiled hallway. He slapped his thick thigh, the sound sharp. "Good for sweating out toxins, I guess, keeping us prime. Unlike some people." He shot a sideways glance at Josh, a flicker of unease quickly masked by aggression. "Place is getting soft. Saw that new trainer, the one with the man-bun? Probably teaches fuckin' Zumba." He snorted derisively.
Josh kept pace, his expression neutral, hands loose at his sides. The familiar irritation simmered beneath his calm surface. Brad’s bluster was always loudest when he felt cornered, vulnerable. Like now.
Brad pushed through the swinging door into the shower area. The humid air hit them, thick with the scent of cheap soap, chlorine, and the raw, damp musk of exertion. Brad stalked towards an empty stall near the entrance, his movements stiff.
"Women," Brad declared loudly, peeling off his towel and tossing it onto a nearby bench with unnecessary force. He stepped under a powerful jet, the water instantly plastering the dense red hair on his chest and back flat against his skin. He tilted his bald head back, letting the water pound his face. "Overrated," he yelled over the spray, his voice bouncing off the tiles. "Seriously. Nagging, spending your cash... only good for one thing." He smirked, a cruel twist of his lips. "And even then..."
Josh moved to the stall directly opposite Brad’s, their doors staying open. He hung his towel on a hook, the movement deliberate, unhurried. He stepped under the hot stream, letting it cascade over his broad shoulders and blonde chest hair. He watched Brad through the steam haze. The big man was slowly lathering at his arms, his muscles flexed. Performing.
"And don't get me started on the other shit," Brad continued, louder now, as if trying to drown out his own lingering disquiet. He slammed a fist against the tile wall beside him. "Fuckin' faggots." The word cracked like a whip in the humid air. "Don't belong in a man's gym. Place for lifting heavy shit, pushing limits, not whatever the fuck they do." He spat onto the wet floor, the globule quickly dissolving in the runoff. Josh smirked, knowing what those fluids contained. "Should stick to their own spaces. Ruin the vibe."
Josh’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. The casual venom, the sheer arrogance of it, scraped against his nerves. Brad’s eyes darted towards him, seeking validation, seeking to reassert dominance after the strange vulnerability in the sauna. Josh met his gaze. Held it. His expression didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes. A cool, assessing focus replaced the neutral mask.
He turned slightly, adjusting the showerhead. The water stream intensified, hitting his chest with a drumming rhythm. He took a slow breath, the steam filling his lungs. Then, his voice cut through the roar of the water, low and smooth, pitched just for Brad’s ears beneath the ambient noise. It wasn't loud, but it carried, vibrating with an unnatural resonance.
"All that tension, Brad," Josh declared, his gaze locked onto Brad’s across the aisle. "From the weights. From the heat." He paused, letting the words sink into the humid air. Brad’s gentle scrubbing slowly continued. His head tilted slightly, listening despite himself. "You carry it deep. In your shoulders." Josh’s voice dropped another fraction, becoming hypnotic, a current pulling Brad under the surface noise. "Feel it? That ache? That pressure?"
Brad blinked, water streaming down his face. His brow furrowed, not in anger now, but in a dawning confusion. He stopped moving entirely, his hands hanging limp at his sides under the spray. His gaze remained fixed on Josh, drawn like a moth to a flame.
"It builds," Josh continued, his voice a velvet purr that seemed to resonate inside Brad’s skull. "Needs release. Like sweat. Like..." He paused, letting the steam thicken the silence between them. Brad’s mouth opened slightly, slack. "...drooltastic."
The word landed softly, but its effect was instantaneous.
Brad moaned. His entire body went rigid for a split second, then slumped, shoulders rounding forward. The aggression, the bluster, evaporated like the steam rising around him. His eyes glazed over, pupils dilating wide, swallowing the irises. They stared blankly past Josh, unfocused, lost in the sudden fog descending upon his mind. A low moan escaped his slack lips, a sound of pure, helpless surrender. His cock, already stirring unconsciously beneath the hot water, twitched visibly against his thigh.
Josh watched, a predator observing prey succumb. He stepped out from under his own shower stream, water sheeting off his muscular frame. He moved slowly, deliberately, across the wet aisle towards Brad’s stall. Brad didn't react. He stood utterly passive under the pounding water, head slightly bowed, mouth hanging open. A thin line of saliva began to seep from the corner of his lips, mingling with the shower water dripping from his chin.
Josh stopped directly in front of him, blocking some of the spray. Brad remained oblivious, lost in the trance, breathing shallowly. The steam curled around them, isolating them in their own private, humid world.
Josh reached out. Not touching Brad yet. His hand hovered near Brad’s face. "That pressure," Josh murmured, his voice low and intimate, resonating deep within Brad’s hypnotized core. "Deep inside. Not just muscles. Deeper." His gaze traced down Brad’s wet, hairy torso, over the swell of his belly, settling lower. "A different kind of ache. A fullness."
Brad whimpered. His hips shifted minutely. His unfocused eyes seemed to stare at Josh’s abdomen.
Josh’s fingers, slick with shower spray, traced the line of Brad’s jaw, tilting his slack face upwards. Brad’s unfocused eyes blinked slowly, water droplets clinging to his lashes. Josh pinched his nipples and Brad let out a long, deep moan. A thick strand of drool stretched from Brad’s lower lip to his hairy chest.
Josh leaned in, closing the humid gap between their bodies. His lips met Brad’s, not gently, but with a demanding pressure. Brad’s mouth yielded instantly, pliant and wet. Josh explored the hot cavern, tasting sweat and the metallic tang of the gym’s water, his tongue sliding against Brad’s, his response almost instant. He pulled back just far enough, deliberately, letting viscous saliva form glistening threads that stretched, thinned, and finally snapped, falling warm onto their damp chests and groins.
One of Josh’s hands drifted lower, knuckles brushing through the coarse auburn hair covering Brad’s belly. His fingertips grazed the base of Brad’s hardening cock, a feather-light, teasing touch that made Brad’s whole body twitch. A choked groan vibrated in Brad’s throat. Josh’s fingers traced the thick, hot length, circling the swollen head, slick with pre-cum and shower water. “Yeah, that's my boy,” Josh murmured against Brad’s open mouth, his voice thick with lust. “Fuck, look at you. So hard just from my voice. What do you want, Brad? Tell me.”
Brad’s breath hitched, his hips pushing weakly towards Josh’s teasing touch. The command resonated deep within the hypnotic fog. “Pi-Piss,” he slurred, the word thick and desperate. His cock throbbed against Josh’s fingers. “Need. Piss.”
A predatory smile curved Josh’s lips. “That’s it, bro,” he breathed, his hand closing more firmly around Brad’s shaft, turning it up and sandwiching it between them. He gave the head a slow, deliberate stroke. “Let it go. Give it to me.” He pressed his lips back to Brad’s, swallowing the man’s whimpering moan. As their tongues swirled, Josh moaned into Brad's mouth, "Piss, boy. Release it. Piss on us. Cover us. Piss." Brad’s body tensed, then a shudder ran through him. A hot, powerful stream erupted from his cock, a jet of warm fluid peaking just under their chins and cascading back over their bodies and the wet tile floor between their feet. The acrid smell of urine mixed with steam and chlorine.
Josh kept stroking his cockhead firmly, playing with the stream, the piss flowing and spraying warm and steady, soaking his hand, dripping down Brad’s legs. Brad pushed harder and the jet of urine finally reached their mouths, intermingling with the copious amounts of saliva drenching their faces. He deepened the kiss, their tongues sliding wetly together, enjoying the bitter tang as piss-slicked skin pressed against skin. Brad’s free hand, moving with clumsy, hypnotized instinct, found Josh’s own thick, rigid cock. Fingers, slippery with piss, wrapped around Josh’s shaft and levered it between them, next to Brad's still leaking meat.
“Good fucking boy,” Josh growled against Brad’s mouth, pleasure sparking as Brad started to thrust, rubbing at their piss-slicked lengths with surprising coordination. He felt a surge of dark satisfaction; Brad wasn’t just obeying, he was adapting, leaning into the depravity the hypnosis had unleashed. Brad’s hands gripped Josh’s shoulders for balance as he continued to thrust and piss, although it was weak now, the stream lessening but still trickling over their frotting bellies.
"What do you want now, boy?" He demanded, between tonguings. "Y... you... your... p... piss" he stammered in response. Josh smiled and relaxed into his own flow. Brad moaned as Josh's wetness splashed up between them both, cascading over their chests and stomachs, down their legs, as they slowly kissed and licked each other, sucking each other's tongues, collecting and delivering saliva to each other's mouths.
They stood locked together under the relentless shower spray, water diluting the piss but unable to wash away the sheer filth of the act. Their mouths moved in a lazy, open-mouthed kiss, saliva and shower water mingling freely. Brad’s hand started to work Josh’s cock as he finished his release with a slow, possessive rhythm, while Josh moved his hands to Brad's tits. Josh wanted him at peak arousal. Drool escaped the corners of their joined mouths, tracing paths through the mess on their chests. It was unhurried, almost lazy now, a shared release of tension and taboo, bathed in steam and their own fluids. Brad’s eyes remained glazed, lost in the blissful haze Josh had woven, his body responding perfectly to the corrupted desires now dominating his mind. The only sounds were the drumming water, their wet, sloppy kisses, and the slick slide of skin on skin, slick with piss and pre-cum. Josh’s own release built steadily under Brad’s surprisingly adept touch, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Brad was incomprehensible in his moans and mutterings, but his pleasure was clear. His eyes rolling back into his head, filthy smiles spasming across his lips as their tongues flowed around each other.
Josh clenched his teeth, the rough drag of Brad’s piss-slicked fist pushing him towards the edge. Steam thickened the air, carrying the sharp tang of chlorine mixed with the musky, bitter scent of their shared release. "Fuck, yeah," Josh grunted, his hips jerking into Brad’s grip. "Squeeze it, you dumb slut." Brad’s glazed eyes stared blankly ahead, his mouth slack, drool dripping onto Josh’s shoulder as he obeyed, milking Josh’s cock with a hypnotized rhythm. "I'm almost there." Brad quickly squatted down. Josh roared, thick ropes of cum erupting, splattering hot and white across Brad’s swollen tongue and lips, mixing with the piss and saliva already present. Brad stood up and they spent the next few minutes passing Josh's load, mixed with the other fluids, back and forth. Spitting, drooling, licking.
The water drummed relentlessly, washing diluted fluids down the drain. Josh’s breathing slowed, the fierce grip of orgasm fading into a dull throb. He watched Brad, utterly passive under the spray, coated in their shared filth. A predatory calm settled over Josh. He stepped back, breaking the humid connection. "Alright, bro," Josh commanded, his voice firm but laced with the hypnotic resonance that still held Brad’s mind. "Clean that shit off. Soap. Everywhere." He pointed to the bar of cheap gym soap perched on a ledge. Brad moved with jerky, obedient motions, picking up the soap. He began lathering his thick, red-haired torso, rubbing the suds over the streaks of piss and cum. His movements were mechanical, his expression vacant as the suds foamed white against his skin, erasing the evidence.
Josh watched, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He returned to his stall and lathered himself up. The hypnosis pulsed subtly. "Absorption," Josh called back, the word a key turning a lock deep within Brad’s mind. Brad’s scrubbing hands paused for a fraction of a second. The vacant look dissolved, replaced by his familiar, slightly vacant arrogance. He rinsed the suds off vigorously, shaking his head like a wet dog. He grabbed his towel, drying off with loud, careless slaps. "Fuckin' Monday," Brad grumbled, walking past Josh towards the locker room without a second glance, as if the past ten minutes had been wiped clean. "Boss riding my ass about the quarterly report like it's my damn fault the numbers suck."
Josh followed at a distance, anticipating their final act of the day. The locker room was cooler, the air thick with the smell of damp towels, cheap deodorant, and the underlying funk of sweat. Brad stood naked by his open locker, vigorously rubbing the towel over his thick neck and shoulders. He preened subtly, flexing his broad back muscles as he reached for his clothes. "Seriously, Josh," Brad continued, oblivious, turning slightly to face him, his thick, short cock swinging heavily between his legs. "It's bullshit. And the dry spell? Man, months. But these chicks?" He snorted, bending over dramatically to pick up his boxers off the floor, presenting his hairy, muscular ass and the tight pucker of his hole directly in Josh’s line of sight for a prolonged moment. "They stare. At the grocery store. At the fuckin' gas station. Like they wanna climb on right there." He straightened, pulling the boxers up roughly and cupping at his junk. "Just gotta find one worth the effort, y'know?"
Josh leaned against a locker, towel still wrapped around his waist, observing Brad’s obvious display. The arrogance, the casual homophobia echoing his earlier rant in the showers – it was ripe. Josh let a slow smile spread across his face. Brad turned, reaching for his t-shirt, his chest puffed out. Josh pushed off the locker, taking a single step closer. His voice dropped, low and resonant, cutting through Brad’s bluster like a knife. "Drooltastic."
The effect was instantaneous. Brad froze mid-motion, his eyes glazing over completely. The shirt slipped from his fingers as his body went slack, mouth falling open, that perfect, dumb himbo smile spreading over his lips. A thick strand of drool immediately began to wind its way down his chin. He swayed slightly, utterly entranced once more. Josh closed the distance, standing chest-to-chest with the larger, hypnotized man. He reached down, wrapping his hand around Brad’s flaccid cock. Under Josh’s touch and the hypnotic command, Brad’s dick surged to life, thickening rapidly in his grasp, hot and heavy. Josh stroked him hard, rough fingers sliding over sensitive skin. "Cum," Josh ordered, his breath hot against Brad’s ear. "Now. On my face."
Josh took Brad's mouth in another deep, wet kiss. He let the collected drool cascade down over Brad's meaty, thickening cock. He stroked it slowly for a moment and then left it to Brad's ministrations. Precum began to mingle with the drool and the wet slaps and squelches were music to Josh's ears. His spent cock began to thicken again, his heartbeat rising. Hypnosis commands always hit more instantaneously and soon enough Brad’s body convulsed. Josh knelt before him as he gasped, a choked, strangled sound. His cock pulsed violently in his fist, thick jets of pearly white cum erupting with surprising force. Josh tilted his face up, closing his eyes as the first hot splatter hit his cheek, then his forehead, then his lips. Warm, viscous fluid coated his skin, the slightly salty, musky scent filling his nostrils. Ropes landed on his chin and neck, dripping slowly onto his bare chest. Brad groaned, a deep, guttural sound of release, his hips stuttering forward as he emptied himself onto Josh’s face.
Josh held still until the last shudder passed through Brad’s body. He opened his eyes, blinking away a drop clinging to his lashes. Brad stood trembling, panting, his cock still half-hard and slick in his loosened grip. Cum glistened thickly on Josh’s features. "Look at the mess," Josh murmured, the hypnotic thrum vibrating in his chest. "That you made." Brad’s glazed eyes focused dully on Josh’s cum-streaked face. "What do you want to do about it?" Josh queried. "Lick... clean... kiss..." Brad stuttered. Josh smiled and stood up to face him.
Brad moved with the clumsy eagerness of the entranced. His thick tongue, warm and wet, slid across Josh’s forehead, gathering a thick globule of white. He lapped at Josh’s cheek, moaning softly as he tasted himself. His tongue traced Josh’s jawline, then swept over his lips, pushing insistently into Josh’s mouth. Josh opened, letting Brad’s tongue delve inside. Cum mingled with saliva as their tongues tangled. Josh sucked, pulling the thick fluid from Brad’s mouth into his own. The taste was potent, bitter-salty, primal. Josh held the viscous pool on his tongue, then pushed his own tongue back into Brad’s mouth, depositing the mixed load. Brad gagged slightly but sucked greedily, taking it back.
Back and forth it went, a filthy communion. Josh gathered the cum pooling in Brad’s mouth, sucking it out, swirling it with his own saliva, then feeding it back. Brad swallowed none of it; his cheeks bulged with the thick, shared fluid. Their lips smacked wetly, breaths mingling, faces smeared with the evidence of their exchange. The large quantity of cum became a slick, warm paste passed between them, coating their tongues, their teeth, dripping down their chins. The locker room air hung heavy with the musky scent. Brad’s eyes were wide, unfocused pools of submission.
Finally, Josh pulled his mouth away, a thick strand of spit-and-cum stretching between their lips before snapping. Brad’s mouth was stretched wide, filled to capacity with the warm, viscous concoction. "Hold it," Josh ordered, his voice rough. He lay back on a nearby bench and raised his legs over his head. His exposed asshole, aimed at the ceiling, glistened faintly in the locker room light. He flexed his ring muscles and knew his hole was starting to gape open. "Fill me up, you hungry fuck," he growled over his shoulder. "Every drop of that warm spunk needs to be deep inside me."
Brad bent forward, mouth perfectly in line with Josh's open hole. He felt the rivulets of mixed fluids start to run down from his taint and into his mancunt. Josh felt the hot puff of Brad’s breath against his hole as Brad's puckered lips released a steady stream of their emissions. Then, the insistent, wet pressure of Brad’s tongue, wide and flat, licking a broad, filthy stripe right up his crease. Brad moaned around Josh's ass full of cum, the vibration making Josh shudder. Brad pressed his face harder, his tongue spearing past the tight ring of muscle, forcing its way inside Josh’s ass. Then, Brad opened his mouth wide against Josh’s hole. Josh felt the final remnants flood into him as Brad released the the last pooled mass of their combined fluids directly into his exposed opening. Brad’s tongue worked furiously, shoving, pushing the thick fluid past the relaxed muscle. It was an obscene slurping, gurgling sound – Brad’s tongue pistoning, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked and pushed, forcing the cum deeper into Josh’s ass. The sensation was overwhelming – the invasion of the tongue, the shocking fullness of the warm fluid being crammed inside him, the sheer, degrading filth of the act. Josh groaned, low and long, as Brad relentlessly fed him his own load, tongue plunging, ensuring not a drop escaped, stuffing him full.