Lincoln's Pride Ch. 02

"You're not trying, boy, struggle Lincoln, fight for yourself. You need to learn to defend yourself," He had his lips against my ear, encouraging me and occasionally pulling at my earlobes with his thick, Arab lips. It didn't feel sexual, more like adding humiliation of a man taking another by force. He was playing with me.

"Against who, sir? The only one attacking me is you," I struggled against his hold as he had me pinned back against his chest. I thought of kicking him but that wasn't ok to do to your boss and he was still my employer. I tried to do the move he showed me, but he was holding me so tightly against his chest. Yet he didn't seem strained in the least.

*********

Over the next few days, Mr. Hamad went through the list of everything I was responsible for with him. He was a very organized man and seemed to know exactly how he wanted things with his business and exactly what he expected of me. He was impatient and didn't like showing me how to do something again. I quickly learned to follow the patterns of his workday and I surprised him by how quickly I caught on to how he wanted things done. I was finishing work in less time than he expected and I was earning his respect.

Outside of work was the other Mr. Hamad. He was very chill and didn't try to crowd my space too much. I had some times to myself to go swim or hit the hotel gym while he finished up business calls. At times he was playful, especially when he had his nightly drink. He would do things to prove his strength with me. I'd never had any problems keeping up in competitions, but he lived for the element of surprise.

Sometimes he would pass by me and pull me into a hold. He had shown me a few times some of his wrestling moves. He loved wrestling. The competitive raw nature of using only your body with the intent to fully subdue the opponent. "You don't need balls, goals, hoops, weapons, or anything other than two bodies," he explained. "You have nothing else on which to rely than your strength and cunning." He liked wrestling, and so we wrestled.

I wasn't usually prepared for it and sometimes he would just fake me out. He would pass me slowly, give me an eye, and then laugh and pinch my nipple or clap my shoulder. One time he was pacing slowly behind me, talking on the phone in Arabic using his little headset. I was sitting at the table in his hotel room working on my laptop, entering his data.

Suddenly, I felt two hands reach from under my armpits and pull me backwards. The chair flipped over and I was on my feet suddenly. He pinned me back against his chest, his hands pulling my arms painfully back.

It was a hot afternoon and we had the sliding doors to the suite open to catch the Pacific breeze. We both had on tank tops and shorts. My smooth back was against his hairy, rippled chest. It was unexpectedly soft for chest hair. I don't have much, but for some reason I assumed his would be wiry like pubes. His chest was moderately covered with the thick, dark short hairs.

He was holding on to me, but didn't seem too disappointed when I couldn't move away. I was certainly trying, but that sweat and cologne smell hit me, the same smell I'd jerked off to with his jock on the bathroom floor. It hit my nose again and distracted me from my struggle.

"You're not trying, boy, struggle Lincoln, fight for yourself. You need to learn to defend yourself," He had his lips against my ear, encouraging me and occasionally pulling at my earlobes with his thick, Arab lips. It didn't feel sexual, more like humiliation. Like a hazing game some players did with younger teammates or with teammates they saw as lesser. He was playing with me. He was toying with me to find out where I fit on the totem. I wasn't too far down from him and I wanted to prove it.

"Against who, sir? The only one attacking me is you," I struggled against his hold as he had me pinned back against his chest. Using one hand to rub my tummy gently, again to show that he only really needed one hand to restrain me. I thought of kicking him but that wasn't ok to do to your boss and he was still my employer. I tried to do the move he showed me, but he was holding me so tightly against his chest. Yet he didn't seem strained in the least.

He pressed into my ass like you would do to a girl you expected to fuck. I swear I felt his bulge harden as he rocked against me a few times and laughed. That laugh is what did it.

I decided struggling wasn't going to get me out of this. If he wanted to toy with me and make me feel less than, well I could give it back to him. I relaxed back against his chest and went limp in his hold. He stopped rocking against me, but I still felt him hard. I reached a hand behind me and squeezed between his legs at the thick snake that went unexpectedly far to the right in his pants.

"Does that turn you on... sir?" I used my best gay impression.

It worked. He released me and spun me around to face him. I kept a straight face, widened my eyes as big as they would go and stared into his eyes with a slight, inquiring smirk.

He froze and the look in his eyes changed from playfulness to hunger. We stared into each other for a minute before I couldn't hold out any longer. I busted out laughing and backed away from his grip.

"Was that good, sir? I got away. I win?" I beamed at him and saw his coffee eyes sink for just a minute.

"That is not how men fight," He seemed disappointed for a minute and then shrugged it off. "If stroking cock is your only survival move, then you really shouldn't get into a fight outside of West Hollywood."

With that, he went to change and headed off to the gym, giving me another small pile of work to do while he worked out. Sometimes his trainer would walk him back up to the room and they would go into Mr. Hamad's hotel room in the suite to measure his progress or weigh him or something. All I knew was they spent some time while I finished work and then the guy would leave and Mr. Hamad would head to she shower.

I'd gotten into another routine the last few days, a filthy one. He always left his gym clothes in a pile on the bathroom floor crowned with his sweaty jock on top. I knew I shouldn't do it, but every night when it was my turn in the bathroom, I'd grab it and jerk off to it's scent.

The second to last day before we were to leave for Satra, his home country, Mr. Hamad came back from his workout with his trainer in tow. He introduced me to him as I was finishing up work. His name was Derek and he was huge, maybe 6'5' with big green eyes and tousled red hair.

This man was solid steel and had a slight California tan. He had on a thin, tight, grey tank top that hugged every contour of his physique and green camouflage workout tights that didn't camouflage his bulge. He gave me a disinterested nod but came to shake my hand. It turned into another competition of strength as he squeezed my hand too hard and I returned his grip.

For some reason he didn't like me. He towered over me and eyed me like yesterday's trash as he gripped my hand and pumped it harshly. I squeezed his hand back as hard as I could, I'm an alpha too We froze there for a minute staring each other down with a mutual "Nice to meet you, bro."

I looked past him to Mr. Hamad who gave a smile and a shrug but then pulled Derek away from me with a firm, "That's enough, boy." Mr. Hamad's tone was low and soft, but it made Derek stand up straight and snap his eyes away from me and back towards the voice.

He backed away under Mr. Hamad's hand on his steel shoulder, but soon returned his eyes to stare me down as if to say, "I was here first." I shrugged it off, I wasn't sure what we were competing for. I turned my eyes back towards the work I had finished.

The two of them retreated to Mr. Hamad's room and he told me to join them. I followed behind, not sure what was to happen. He told me I had five minutes to get ready for bed and get out. I quickly grabbed my sleep clothes and went into the bathroom, brushing my teeth under the shower head to combine jobs.

I came back out in loose, jogging shorts. I skipped the t-shirt to show off my own proud muscles to Derek. I puffed up and flexed as I lumbered across the room. Mr. Hamad and Derek were going through a workout plan. Mr. Hamad was lounged back in a captain's chair and Derek was knelt beside him going through a folder. Mr. Hamad ignored me, but Derek looked up and I swear I heard him growl as I passed.

I gave him an odd look, but headed for the door.

"You can watch a little TV, but get to bed early, we have a full day tomorrow," Mr. Hamad said to me with a hand raised. Derek flashed annoyed green eyes at me and raised a middle finger towards me against his side where Mr. Hamad couldn't see.

"Yes sir," I paused and looked at him to show I was listening to his instructions.

"And Lincoln, sleep well," he added with a very parental tone that elicited another low growl from Derek. That dude looked fucking crazy.

"Thank you sir, you too," I nodded at Mr. Hamad and gave Derek a little wave. Something about that dude just wasn't right, but I was excited about having a night on the couch with TV and no work. I closed the door behind me, got my blanket, and laid on the couch.

The TV in the small living room had endless channels. I found an action movie my dad took me to see a few summers ago. Every few minutes in the movie something was blowing up. A boat, a building, a hot dog stand, even the park bench where the hero had been sitting blew up. It was awesome! I didn't watch the ending, I passed out under the warm blanket.

*********

"Aww fuck please, please put it in me, daddy please," I woke up to hear pleading from the next room.

"Yeah, stretch that white pussy for this big brown cock. Beg for it in your little pink hole," growled another voice that sounded like Mr. Hamad.

What the hell was going on. I sat up and scratched my chest.

"Please daddy, please fuck me," the voice whined in Derek's low growl. It sounded strange, the words didn't match the voice. He was begging like a bitch from behind Mr Hamad's bedroom door.

"Beg for it, bitch, beg for the cock," Mr. Hamad's voice was deeper than usual, forceful, impatient.

I got off the couch and crept towards the bedroom door. I saw light coming from under the door but also from the sides. The door was ajar. I remembered closing it to give Mr. Hamad his privacy while I watched the movie. I hadn't heard anything going on, but now the door was cracked an inch or so and all of their noise filtered through.

I got closer and there was enough room in the crack for me to see the bed. Mr. Hamad was beside it, waving the biggest, darkest cock I'd ever seen. It had to be at least a foot long. It was thick, fat and heavy. It arced up towards his stomach and he would grab it, lower it down and then let it go. It would bounce a few times, so heavy it struggled to raise up.

Derek was on his hands and knees in front of him with his head tilted up towards the cock. He had his tongue stretched out as far as it would go, but Mr. Hamad was swinging his cock just out of reach. Derek was whimpering and the sound filled me with disgust.

Derek was naked except for the gold tie Mr. Hamad had worn that day tied in a tight knot around his neck. Mr. Hamad held the long side in his hand, yanking Derek hard by the neck.

Derek coughed as Mr. Hamad raised it upwards, pulling back on his neck to choke him. It was the strangest scene I ever beheld. Mr. Hamad pulled back hard, choking the man who was gasping for breath with his mouth open wide. He would hold it just enough for the color to drain from Derek's face and then let it slack a bit so Derek's head fell forward as he gasped for air.

But Derek didn't move, didn't fight for himself. His hands were free but he kept them clasped behind his back. "What a freak," I thought to myself.

In between these attacks on his air, Derek would regain his breath and resume begging to suck Mr. Hamad. What made a man his size go down like that? How could he be into this?

This huge mass of man was whimpering on the floor in front of Mr. Hamad, begging for his cock. Mr. Hamad swiped it across the beggar's lips. Derek lapped excitedly at the tip.

"You'd better hope that pussy is ready for this meat," Mr. Hamad told him. He leaned down and put his hands on Derek's chin, lifting him up by the head and then spitting into his open mouth.

"Thank you sir," Derek simpered. It was pretty disgusting. How could this big tower of manhood be on his hands and knees begging for cock.

"Up," Mr. Hamad ordered and pulled Derek by the leash. He had his hands up on the bed, his chest against a towel someone had laid out against the comforter.

Derek arched his back and wiggled his ass. "Please fuck me sir, please fuck me."

"Why would I waste my seed on a dirty whore? You see the boy I have in training." Mr. Hamad said in a low, calm voice.

I stepped back at that. Was he talking about me? I was no one's whore. I certainly didn't want his seed. Sure his dirty jock got me off, but that was different. I don't know how, but my mind sorted it out as being different. Taking a cock is definitely gay. Sniffing a jock is... questionable.

"Please sir. I can take you like that little bitch never could. I can take you as deep as you want to go sir. Please fuck me," he was practically crying now. It was pretty gross, but I started to tent in my shorts. It wasn't the scene, it was the way Mr. Hamad exerted himself over the trainer. How did he get a guy that size to whine like a bitch?

"Shut the fuck up. You talking does nothing for me." Mr. Hamad ordered and pushed Derek down against the towel on the bed. "Stick that pink hole out for me, spread your legs."

And then Mr. Hamad slicked up his cock and started shoving into him. I didn't know how this was supposed to go but it looked painful. Derek let out a cry to indicate this wasn't the normal pace of things. "Please sir, Ow, sir," he started whining.

"The fuck did I tell you?" Mr. Hamad reached down to the floor and grabbed Derek's sock and shoved it into the whiny mass of muscle's mouth. He slammed into the man and I heard a muffled scream and saw tears stream down his cheek.

Seeing the jock go into his mouth, that was mine. That was for me. I felt an odd jealousy fall over me. I was leaning against the door frame in the shadows, but that caused me to lean forward a little and the door cracked open more.

Derek turned and saw me, but Mr. Hamad didn't notice. Derek let out a muffled scream to try to let him know I was watching, but Mr. Hamad had the sock fully in his mouth and had tied the other sock around Derek's head and knotted it tightly in the back. It pulled his cheeks in and had wet tear stains on it. He had Derek's arms pinned behind his back, holding him firmly as he continued to forcefuck him.

Derek made eyes at me to fuck off, turn away. Knowing it bothered him to be watched brought a smile across my face as my cock filled out my shorts to full mast. I reached down and gave it a pet, mindlessly enjoying the scene in front of me.

"Oh fuck yeah," Mr. Hamad growled as he slammed in and out of the "whore's hole" with pleasure. I was cheering him on in my head. I hoped he was making it hurt.

"MMMMM!!!" Derek was moaning into the socks and kept eyeing me angrily. I watched as I stole his joy. He wanted this private, between him and Mr. Hamad. I reached into my shorts and stroked my cock, imagining myself conquering this big beefy bitch. He may have been built, but he was definitely not a man. Anyone who could take a cock like that and moan and beg for more was a full on bitch. I knew I would never do that. I would never lower myself like that.

I cheered on Mr. Hamad in my head as I watched his firm muscular ass push in and out as he destroyed the thick trainer's hole. It looked like it hurt like hell. Derek was squirming and screaming into the sock. There were tears down his reddened cheeks and spit coming out of his mouth. All the time his eyes burned at me.

Mr. Hamad gave one last slam as his body started to jerk and twist. A deep growl erupted from his chest as he slammed into the man, flinging his sweat down over Derek's muscled back.

"FUCK YEAH, take my seed. Take it while I breed your little pink hole. I own that pussy," Mr. Hamad growled and it sent me over the edge. I creamed in my shorts, bucking back against the door frame and trying to keep my noise level down. Behind me, the last explosion of the movie sounded on the tv.

I lurched forward as my cock fired off in my shorts. My knees gave out as my body twisted and I fell back against the wall and slid down to the floor. I landed with a thud. It was the best fucking cum I'd had in a long time.

I looked back up from the shadows and Mr. Hamad was looking out towards the door, but over my head. I scrambled away from his view and I didn't hear anything. I looked back and saw Mr. Hamad lay down on the bed and kick Derek off. The muscle mass landed on his feet but fell down on his ass. His knees must have been weakened from holding that position too long.

"Mmmf," I heard him whine again. I saw him untie the sock gag from around his head. His red hair was messy and matched his teary face.

"Thank you sir," he said rising up from the floor.

"I thought you left. Why are you still here? I'm finished. You should go... and don't wake the boy," Mr. Hamad said coldly and I heard him flip on the TV.

I crawled away from them and got up on my feet. I went to the little kitchen area and washed my hands and cleaned the cum off my shorts.

Derek came out just as I was wiping my hands dry on the towel. He had on his clothes but held his shoes. He didn't look at me or say a word, but he gave a sniffle when he went to open the door.

"You're awake," Mr. Hamad's voice sounded back from the bedroom doorway. I snapped my eyes to him and swallowed hard.

"I woke up from some explosion scene in the movie and I got thirsty, needed water," I reached for a glass and filled it under the tap. "Would you like some, sir?"

"No," he was wearing a small pair of boxers. "Thank you. You're sleeping ok?"

"Yes sir," I adjusted myself in my jogging shorts.

"It's cold out here. Would you like an extra blanket?" He offered and moved towards me. His dark furry chest heaved a sigh as he closed in on me. I looked in his eyes in the dim light. He looked at me with a little sadness. I got the feeling he didn't entirely enjoy what he'd just done with Derek.

"I'm ok, thank you. Derek left?" I asked with a soft tone.

"That is none of your concern," Mr. Hamad growled and stiffened his back. He didn't like my question. He turned back towards the bedroom and walked away from me. He paused at the door frame. He turned back towards me, putting his hands on the insides of the doorframe and leaned forward, stretching his arm and chest muscles.

He did a few pushups against the door frame. It pushed his hard chest out to regain his pride. His voice softened again, "Let me know if you need anything in the night, Lincoln. If you need the bathroom, come through. I realize you need your own space. You'll have a little more personal space when we get home."

"Thank you sir. I'm ok sharing your space. I'm used to a lot of people in small quarters. It doesn't bother me, sir... It's comforting to hear you snore like my brothers... good night," I sipped my water and gave a half smile. He nodded to me with a smile and pushed back from the door frame.

************

The next morning we had breakfast and Mr. Hamad said we should do a workout outside today. "There is a park close to here. I got you new workout clothes. Shower up and they are on the dresser." He told me as I was setting our plates outside our suite door.