Email: ebonart.gallery@gmail.com
BLACK TIGER'S TORMENT
by ebonart (ebonart.gallery@gmail.com)
Luis Mendoza stuffed his books into his locker, then fished out his crumpled gym bag for PE. The boys locker room at Iron Harbor High was filled with shouting youths, brushing shoulders and chests against each other in the narrow spaces between lockers. Luis stripped with casual ease, smiling just slightly as his powerful sculpted muscles caught the attention of most of the other dudes around him, even if it was just a glance and a head-shake.
His golden skin glimmered with light sweat in the un-air-conditioned locker room. It must be upwards of a hundred degrees in here, the boy thought. It would get higher in the summer, but thankfully most of them would be out and away during the hottest part of the year.
Luis fished out his gym clothes, careful not to disturb the rest of the bag's contents. His latex Black Tiger suit was there, carefully folded around his mask and gloves. He jumped as he was touched, then grinned as he felt the strokes and backslaps from grateful teammates for saving them in last night's meet with their crosstown rivals. Luis was the best wrestler in the school, the best they’d had in ten years, and he’d filled up the cases with trophies for his entire high school career.
All that was coming to an end. He was graduating in days and then going off to college. His eighteenth birthday, months in the past, saw him getting several letters of inquiry from various wrestling teams across the country.
They didn't know but he'd turn them all down. He couldn't be a crimefighter at night, college student by day, and still devote himself to a sports team at that level. They'd find someone else, but being Black Tiger was too important, to him and to the city.
Luis tied on his shoes, jumped up, and ran out of the locker room with his buddies and teammates for an hour of good, hard, physical activity.
He didn't see that his gym bag had gaped open while he struggled with his shoes, and that his rival Cal Rivers had gotten a good long look at the latex costume inside.
Cal stood at the entrance to the locker rooms, and watched Luis run out into the gym, watched that flexing muscle-boy ass in those skimpy little gym shorts. Luis was Black Tiger. Black Tiger was Luis. It made so much sense, once you knew. How he'd never seen it before, he did not know.
Cal's dad controlled most of the crime in Iron Harbor, and Cal was well on his way to being his father's right hand man. Black Tiger had been a major thorn in their side for years. Now, though… Cal watched Luis going through the gym routines, so careful not to show up the less talented boys around him. Cal licked his lips, adjusted his thick cock under his jock and cup, and wondered what he'd do with this new information.
***
Hours later Luis returned to the darkened locker room and shucked his gear. He was the last to leave. He checked the locker room to make sure he was alone, then locked the double doors leading into the area.
He took a slow hot shower, soaping every inch of his muscular young body, then leaning on the tiled wall to play with his half-hard cock. His dark-skinned penis rose heavy and strong in his hand, and he hissed as his fingers teased over the bulbous crown. He had work tonight, though, so he slid his hand to the shaft and took care of business. A minute later Luis bit back a cry of pleasure as his cock let loose a volley of sweet high-school boy-cream all over his broad chest, the ivory ropes glimmering pale against his dark-honey skin. He gasped as he worked six more long shots out of his cock, the last two hitting him in the face. He leaned back, panting, licking his own hot creamy boyspunk from his lips. Fuck, he felt ready to melt.
He gathered his wits again and finished his shower, dried, then went to change.
His Black Tiger costume top was gleaming neo-latex and matte-black rubber, and it conformed to his powerful body as his skin warmed it, tracing the contour of each iron-hard muscle. Leather pants followed, along with gleaming boots. Leather gloves and finally his black leather eye mask capped off his change into crusading crimefighter.
He checked out his uniform, then stowed his street clothes in his gym bag. Bag over his shoulder, he left the darkened locker room. Black Tiger headed for the waterfront.
